Full text of "The Catholic world"

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

MONTHLY MAGAZINE

GENERAL LITERATURE AND SCIENCE.

. LXIV.

OCTOBER, 1896, TO MARCH, 1897.

NEW YORK :

THE OFFICE OF THE CATHOLIC WORLD,

120 WEST 6oth STREET.

1897.

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

CONTENTS.

Across Country. Dorothy Gresham, . 202
Ambassador of Christ," "The, . .824

Anglican Answers to the Pope's Bull.

Jesse Albert Locke, .... 686

Armellini, Mariano : De Rossi's Suc-
cessor. (Portrait.} Bona F.
Broderick, ..... 84

Arundel, Past and Present. (Illus-
trated.} A. M. Clarke, ... 54

Attack on the Church, A Recent. Char-

leson Shane, ..... 764

Authors, Authentic Sketches of Living

Catholic, 133, 277, 418, 561, 708, 854

British Evacuation of the Ionian Islands,
The. (Illustrated.} A Member of
the Embassy, ..... 790

Calvinism in New England, The Revolt
from. Rev. Arthur M. Clark,
C.S.P., .... .803

Chime Tower, In the. (Illustrated.}

Mary Boyle O'Reilly, . .. .285

Christabel's Conflict. The Author of

" Tyborne," 655

Church as a Geographical Society, The.

Charles H. McCarthy, . . . 602

Columbian Reading Union, The, 140, 280,

423, 569, 713, 857
Constantinople against Rome. Very

Rev. A. F. Hewit, D.D., ... 66

Convention of the Irish Race, After the, 511

Cooking vs. Drinking, Good. L. A.

Toomey, . . . . . . 480

Corfu, The Citadel at, (Frontispiece.}

Corsica, Life and Death in. (Illus-
trated.} -J. Wiseman Keogh,' . . 18

Coventry Patmore Dead, . . . 693
Crime to Education, The Relation of, . 322

De Lamennais, A New Work on. John

J. O'Shea, 634

Development, not Evolution. Rev.

Alexander McDonald, D.D., . . 104

Dr. Fulton's Answer to the Pope.; -Jesse

Albert Locke, ..... 777

Dwellings of the Poor and their Mo-
rality. George McDermot, C.S.P., 573

Editorial Notes, 131, 274, 416, 559, 706, 849

Election in Ancient Rome, An. F. W.

Pelly, 584

French Shepherds going to Christmas

Midnight Mass, (Frontispiece.}

Future of Catholicity in America, with
Reference to Mission Work to non-
Catholics. Rev. A. P. Doyle, C. S. P. , 206

Genoa and its Campo Santo. (Illus-
trated.} F. M. Edselas, . . .181

Ghosts, The Laying of. Henry Austin

Adams, M.A., 401

Great Assassin and the Christians of
Armenia, The. George McDermot,
C.S.P., 295

Holy Grail, The. (Frontispiece.}

Housing of the People in Great Cities.

(Illustrated.) . . . .no

Institutes for Parochial School -Teach-
ers. B. Ellen Burke, . . . 249

Intemperance and Pauperism. Rev. F.

W. Howard, . 647

Jesuit " Relations " in English, , 810

Labor Statistics of Russian Factories.

Hermann Schoenjeld, . . . 397

Lamarck. (Illustrated.) William Se-

ton, LL.D., 98

Languages and their Monuments. Mgr.

Charles de Harlez, .... 467

La Verna, Two Days at. (Illustrated.)

-G. S. M. M. 214

Life Insurance, The Ethics of, . . 816

Martinelli, D.D., Most Rev. Sebastiano,
the New Apostolic Delegate.

(Frontispiece. }

Missionary Outlook in Canada, The.

Rev. Walter Elliott, . . . 391

Monica. Easton Smith, . . . 172

Mother and Son. Lelia Hardin Bugg, 729

Mount Carmel and the Carmelites. (Il-
lustrated.} P. T. B., . . . 670

Newman, A Debt to. Charles A. L.

Morse, 430

New England and the Formation of

America. Rev. P. O'Callaghan, . 344

New Year's Dawn. Hildegarde, . . 440

Notre Dame de Fourvieres. (Illus-
trated.} E. Endres, . . . 623

Orange Lilies, Among the. Rev. Wal-
ter Elliott, ..... 256

"Peace hath her Victories." Marion

Ames Taggart, .... 328

Personality of a Favorite Poet, The.

{Portraits}, ..... 772

Pillars of Salt. Henry Austin Adams, 13

Pius VI. and the French Dictionary :
The Temporal Power. Right Rev.
Francis Silas Chatard, D.D., . i

Pompeii Reborn and Regenerate. (Il-
lustrated.} John J. O'Shea, . . 484
Pope Leo XIII. (Frontispiece.}

Potter, Bishop, and Anglican Orders.

Henry Austin Adams, . . . 236

Public Opinion and improved Housing.

George McDermot, C.S.P., . . 719

Raines Liquor Law, Tinkering the.

Robert J. Mahon, .... 540
Rationalism Enthroned at Canterbury.

Jesse Albert Locke, . . . 530
Repplier, Agnes. Lelia Hardin Bugg, 74
Righteous Mammon. E. M. Lynch, . 145
River of Death, On the. (Illustrated.}

Mary Boyle O'Reilly, . . .589

Road from Jerusalem to Bethlehem.

(Frontispiece. }

Rubinstein, Anton. {Portrait.} Rev.

H. G. Ganss 193

Russell of Killowen, Lord, and the Chief-
Justiceship of England. (Portrait.}
A Templar, . . .243

Samoan Islands, A Visit to the. (Illus-
trated.} 749

"Sam Slick" and Catholic Disabilities
in Nova Scotia. Mary P. F. C/it's-
holm, . . . . ' . . 459

Schafflertanz and Metzgersprung in Mu-
nich, The. (Illustrated.} Alguien, 306

Shakespearean Chronology, A Study in.

Appleton Morgan, . . . 610

Shakspere and the New Woman, . . 158
Southern Lilies are Trained, Where.

{Illustrated.) Eliza Allen Starr, . 357

CONTENTS.

Spiritual Ultima Thule, A. (Illus-
trated.} Rev. A. P. Doyle, . . 521

Talk about New Books, 119, 261, 406, 543,

697, 832

Under an Alien Sky. (Illustrated')

Helen M. Sweeney, .... 490
Vicar's Ham, The. Dorothy Gresham, 759

Village Cynic, A. Walter Lecky, . 366

What the Thinkers Say, 138, 421, 566

Woman's Work in the West of Ireland,
A New. (Illustrated.} Marguerite
Moore, ...... 451

Woof of Providence ; or, God's Fire-
Laddie. JohnJ. a Becket, . . 33

POETRY.

Ash Wednesday. William L. Moore, . 717
A Singer. Walter Lecky, . . .483
Ballad of Tyrone, A. Louise Imogen

Guiney, . . . . . . 320

Christmas in the Pines. Meredith

Nicholson, 294

Deus et Anima. Bert Martel, . . 748

Echoes. Bert Martel, .... 609

Firefly, The. John Jerome Rooney, . 815

Gladstone, To. Jo/in J. O'Shea, . . 170

Hidden Lights./. Willis Brodhead, . 466

Holy Brittany. (Illustrated.} John J.

O'Shea, . . . 387

Holy 'Grail, The.JoAnJ. O'Shea, . 73

Immaculate Conception, The. F. M.

Mullins, 355

Love that Overcometh, The. John Paul

Mac Carrie, 343

Mary in Egypt ; or, The Shadow of Cal-
vary. (Illustrated.) fames M.
Hayes, ...... 643

New Renaissance, The. Walter Lecky, 632
New Year, The. Charleson Shane, . 429

Numquam Revertitur Tempus. Bert

Martel, . . . . . .157

Purgatory. M. T. Black, . . .241
Repentance. Jessie Willis Brodhead, . 771
Sidney Lanier. Dr. Austin CfMalley, . 789
Summer i's o'er. Walter Lecky, . . 97
Vale. Bert Martel, .... 109

Winter of the Mind, The. Jessie Willis

Brodhead, ..... 583

Year at October. Edward A. Uffington

Valentine, . . . . 31

NEW PUBLICATIONS.

Ada Merton, 266

Animal Story Book, The, . . . 547
Autobiography of a Truth, The, . . 124
Barker's Luck, and other Tales, . . 410
Bequests for Masses for the Souls of De-
ceased Persons, ..... 839
Brief History of the Nations, and of

their Progress in Civilization, A, . 412

Christian Inheritance, The, . . . 264

Church and Modern Society, The, . 703

Clare Vaughan, 702

Claudius : A Sketch from the First Cen-
tury, ....... 125

Complete Manual of Canon Law, A, . 129

Demon Possession and Allied Themes, 553
De Sponsalibus et Matrimonio praelec-

tiones canonicae, 130

Elements of Plane and Spherical Trigo-
nometry, ...... 408

En Route, 543

Essays Educational, . . . 264

Essays Philosophical, .... 697

European Architecture : A Historical

Study, ....... 700

Fair, Kind, and True, .... 548

Few Events in the Life of our Divine

Lord, A, 411

Flora, the Roman Martyr, . . . 832

Gaston de Latour, ..... 407

God the Creator and Lord of All, . . 549
Goffine's Devout Instructions on the
Epistles and Gospels for the Sundays

and Holydays, ..... 264

Gospel for an Age of Doubt, The, . 847
H. De Balzac. The Country Parson

(Le Cure de Village), .... 261

History of Rome to the Death of Caesar, 266

History of the Hebrew People, A, . 835
History of the Protestant Reformation

in England and Ireland, A, . . 123
Italy in the Nineteenth Century, and the
making of Austro-Hungary and Ger-
many, 841

Leprosy and the Charity of the Catholic

Church, 837

Life and Letters of Father John Morris,

S.J., The, ...... 843

Life of Our Ladye, Scriptural, Tradi-
tional, and Topographical, The, . 699
Love Stronger than Death, . . . 704
Mademoiselle Blanche, . . . 833

Mr. Billy Buttons, 263

Monsignor de Solomon : Unpublished
Memoirs of the Internuncio at Paris

during thfe Revolution, 1790-1801, . 413

My Crucifix, and other Verses, . . 548

Notes on Christian Doctrine, . . 846

Our Little Book for Little Folks, . . 836

Palladia, 544

Passing Shadows, 546

Pastoral Theology, .... 845

Phantom Ship, The,' .... 546

Philosophy of Literature, The, . . 833

Pope Leo XIII. , ..... 264

Quo Vadis : A Narrative of the Time of
Nero, . . . . . . .411

Robert Southey's Life of Nelson, . .119
Round Table of the Representative

American Catholic Authors, . . 548
Science of the Spiritual Life according

to the Spiritual Exercises, The, . . 272
Secret Directory : A Romance of Hid-
den History, The, . . . 698
Sentimental Tommy : The Story of his
Boyhood, ...... 406

Sermons and Discourses, . . . 414
Sir Thomas Browne's Religio Medici

and Urn-Burial, ..... 834

Spirit of the Dominican Order illustrated

from the Lives of its Saints, The, . 552

Story of the Chosen People, The, . . 836

String of Beads, A, .... 838

Studies in Church History, . . . 267
Synopsis Theologias Dogmaticae Funda-
mentalis, ad MentemS. Thomae Aqui-
natis, Hodiernis Moribus Accommodata, 125

Taquisara, ...... 409

Three Daughters of the Revolution, . 836

Vocation of Edward Conway, The, . 263

Wizard, The, 414

Yorke-Wendte Controversy, The, . 123

Yorkshire Writers : Richard Rolle of
Hampole, an English Father of the

Church, and his Followers, . . 555

THE HOLY GRATI.. (See page 73.}

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD,

VOL. LXIV.

OCTOBER, 1896.

No. 379.

PIUS VI. AND THE FRENCH DIRECTORY. THE

TEMPORAL POWER.

BY RIGHT REV. FRANCIS SILAS CHATARD, D.D.

E are so much engrossed in the great
questions of the period in which we
are that no one can find fault with
the feeling, spontaneously arising,
that one's patience is tried by
bringing up things a century old.
We confess to having had some-
thing of this feeling ourselves when
we first saw the title of Monsignor
Pietro Baldassari's book : The Ac-
count of the Adversities and Suffer-
ings of Pius VI. But sober second
thought made one reflect that the
work was historical, and therefore useful ; moreover a brief
criticism in a Roman paper told of valuable documentary evi-
dence akin to that which made the memoirs of Cardinal Pacca
so interesting, and in fact necessary for the understanding of
the great ecclesiastical and religious questions of the latter
part of the last and of the early part of the present century.
We resolved to send for the work, and were rewarded for our
trouble.

The old poet once wrote : " Felix qui potuit rerum cognos-
cere causas." He appreciated the difficulty of finding out the
causes of things, and esteemed the man lucky who could suc-
ceed in doing so. The same difficulty ever exists, and what

2 PlUS VI. AND THE FRENCH DIRECTORY. [Oct.,

he said then is true now. Fortunately, circumstances arise,
quarrels between governments or between diplomats, a desire to
vindicate or exalt a great man, or a broad and noble view of the
mode of tre'ating historical questions such as in recent years has
manifested itself among the governments of Europe, and has
especially been shown by the present reigning Pontiff, Pope Leo
XIII., and the historian places before the eyes of men the
original papers, the " pieces justificatives ' that lay bare the
springs of action, and reveal the true causes of things.

THE REPUBLIC LOOKING FOR A CAUSE OF QUARREL.

All the world knows the animosity of the French Revolu-
tion to the Catholic Church, the massacre of many of her
priests and the exile of others, that sent to our shores devoted
missioners whose names are in benediction. The Directory that
followed the end of the Reign of Terror inherited the hatred,
while it condemned the blood-thirstiness, of the sans culottes.
In 1793, after having treated the church and the pope with ar-
rogance and insult, the Directory insisted that the Sovereign
Pontiff should recognize the Republic, and that the arms of
France should be erected on the houses of the consular agents
of France ; a thing not customary where a government had
not been duly recognized. In such a condition was France
with regard to the pope. Pope Pius VI. did not deem it pro-
per to accede at once to this demand. Whereupon the French
agents in Italy, at Naples, and elsewhere resolved to force him
to do so. From this attempt came about the killing of Hugo
Basseville. It must be stated first that this person was not an
accredited agent of the French government. He was in their
interest and co-operating with their agents, but was, after hav-
ing delivered a message to the cardinal-secretary of state from
the French agent at Naples, residing in Rome as a private in-
dividual to attend to his affairs, as he himself stated.

A SPARK IGNITES THE MAGAZINE.

In the meanwhile the French agent at Naples, though
not accredited to the Papal government, sent a message to
Cardinal de Zelada, secretary of state to his Holiness, by means
of a messenger by name La Flotte. The purport of this com-
munication was that the pope should put no obstacle in the
way of the French consul placing the arms of France over the
entrance to his residence, he having received an official order

1896.] PlUS VI. AND THE FRENCH DIRECTORY. 3

from his government to do so within twenty-four hours. The
cardinal-secretary replied that he would lay the matter before
his Holiness, and receive his orders. Basseville was with La
Flotte when he presented this dispatch on January 12, 1793.
La Flotte, full of arrogance, made known to others the purport
of his visit, and his determination to see the order to place
the arms of France over the door of the consul's house carried
out. As a matter of course the news spread like wild-fire, and
the people became aroused at this piece of French assumption,
and La Flotte and his friends were warned of the danger.
They did not heed the warning. To prevent an uprising the
government gave orders to have the troops under arms and
patrol the city. About an hour before sundown on January 13
La Flotte with Basseville and some others, in a carriage, en-
tered the Piazza Colonna, wearing the tri-color cockade, and
one holding alo'ft a tri-colored streamer. This was the spark
that set off the pent-up feeling of the people. Cries were heard,
and stones thrown at the carriage. Some one in or near the
carriage fired a shot, striking, however, no one. The coachman
whipped up his horses and took to flight, followed by the peo-
ple. The party took refuge in the house of the banker La
Moutte. The house was invaded by the excited men, and in
one of the rooms Basseville was found with a poniard in his
hand. He was attacked. He defended himself as best he
could, wounding some one slightly; but in the fight he received
a death-wound in the abdomen, from which he died next day,
regretting that he had become the victim of a crazy fellow
(La Flotte), asking pardon of the pope, and fortified with the
sacraments of the church.

This is the fact upon which the further aggressive acts of
the Directory and of Napoleon were grounded. The assassination
of " the ministers of France' is a phrase which Napoleon per-
mits himself to use in carrying out his unjust and tyrannical
measures against the Papacy, notwithstanding the pope had
done all he could to satisfy the French government and make
it evident that the death of Basseville was the result of a sud-
den and violent outbreak of popular fury, which his troops had
not even time to repress. The consequences were, nevertheless,
most serious and disastrous, as we shall see. For this unfor-
tunate occurrence was simply one of those facts of history
which, finding a state of feeling already existing, acted as the
spark which explodes the political mine and brings on mighty
ruin.

4 PlUS VI. AND THE FRENCH DIRECTORY. [Oct.,

INSOLENT LANGUAGE OF THE DIRECTORY.

The business which brought about Basseville's fatal visit to
Rome regarded two French artists, Rater, a sculptor, and Chi-
nard, an architect. These two had been gravely suspected of
conspiring against the government, and had been arrested. M.
Makan, minister of France at Naples, interceded for them, and
the men were eventually liberated. The letter which was ad-
dressed to the pope by the French government on account of
this arrest, and which bears date November 23, 1792, demon-
strates the animus of the Directory towards the pope. It
begins : " The Provisional Executive Council of the French
Republic to the Prince Bishop of Rome." " Some free French
citizens, children of art, who by their sojourn in Rome sustain
you, and show you their genius and the talents whence comes
the honor of which Rome herself boasts, have been by your
order subjected to unjust persecution. Arbitrarily torn from
their labors, shut up in close prison, pointed out and treated
as guilty, whereas no tribunal has pronounced sentence on their
crime ; or rather, while no reproof can be made them beyond
their having expressed their respect for the rights of man, and
their love for the country that rewards them, have been marked
as victims who are to be sacrificed to despotism and to super-
stition.

" Certainly if it were lawful to purchase the triumph of a
good cause at the expense of innocence, it would be necessary
to permit such an excess. The already shaken throne of the
Inquisition will totter to its destruction the day it will dare to
exercise its fury ; and the successor of St. Peter will cease to
be a prince the day he will tolerate such a thing. Reason has
everywhere made her powerful voice heard ; she has awakened
in the heart of man oppressed the knowledge of his duties and
the feeling of his strength ; she has broken the sceptre of
tyranny and the talisman of regal dignity. Liberty has become
the centre of universal union, and to princes vacillating on
their thrones remains only the part of seconding it, if they
wish to avoid a violent fall. . . . Pontiff of the Roman
Church, and up to the present prince of a state you are about
to lose, you can to-day no longer hold it unless by a disinter-
ested profession of those evangelical principles that inspire the
purest democracy, the most tender love of man, the most per-
fect equality: principles with which the successors of Christ
clothed themselves only to increase a power that is going to

1896.] PlUS VI. AND THE FRENCH DIRECTORY. 5

ruin through age. The ages of ignorance are passed away ;
henceforth men cannot be subjected save through their being
convinced. They can no longer be guided but by the truth,
nor can their affections be fixed on anything but their own
happiness."

In this impudent fashion did these men speak to the vener-
able Vicar of Christ ; and, confessing that whatever was sound
in their own views regarding the rights of man and his nature
had been taught by the Old Church, unblushingly accused her
rulers of having so taught to selfishly advance their cause and
aggrandize their power. Hearing them thus talk of high ethi-
cal principles reminds one of the remark of Charles I. when he
heard the noble but dissolute instructor of his son advocating
the cause of virtue. This letter was signed by Roland, Monge
(the regicide), Claviere, Lebrun, Pache, Garat, and the secre-
tary Grouvel.

The above letter was followed by another of like tenor writ-
ten by Lebrun, minister of foreign affairs, couched in lan-
guage as insulting. It seems to have no date but that of No-
vember of this year, 1792.

JUSTIFICATION OF NO AVAIL.

By order of the pope, Cardinal de Zelada replied in digni-
fied terms to these tirades, reminding the minister of what had
occurred in France : of the burning of the pope in effigy in
Paris, and of the fact that no reply had been given to the ex-
postulations of the nuncio, who on that account had been
obliged to leave France; of the violent seizure of territory be-
longing to the pope ; of the taking down of the Papal arms at
Marseilles, their being hung up to a lamp-post (a la lanterne),
and then being broken into pieces by the mob. The govern-
ment had taken no step to give satisfaction for this outrage
beyond promising a trial. He ended by remarking that marks
of honor on the part of nations must be reciprocal, and as
France had dishonored the pope and his arms, she could not
expect the sovereign of Rome to honor the arms of France.
Moreover, the house of the consul at Marseilles had been
invaded and searched by two public officials without finding
anything to compromise him. The Directory, however, were in
no mood to redress wrongs, and the letter failed of any effect
then. Its effect has been reserved for history. It was con-
signed to the French consul in the early part of January, 1793.

Having thus given the state of the relations of the two

6 PlUS VI. AND THE FRENCH DIRECTOR Y. [Oct.,

governments prior to the appearance of Napoleon Bonaparte
upon the scene, we shall find from what follows that the Direc-
tory kept on its way of hate and of destruction, and that they
had a thorough ally, if perchance more discreet from the fact
that he was on the spot, while they were in Paris.

After the battle or skirmish of Lodi Bonaparte entered
Milan ; no sooner was he master of that city when he issued,
on May 23, 1/96, a fiery proclamation to his army, in which
among other things he said : " There remain other rapid march-
es to undertake, other enemies to overcome, laurels to gather,
insults to avenge. Let those who have sharpened the pon-
iards of civil war in France, who cowardly assassinated our
ministers, who burnt at Toulon our vessels, tremble : the hour
of vengeance has struck." " To re-establish the Capitol, place
there in honor the statues of the heroes who made it famous,
awaken the people of Rome, lulled to sleep by so many centu-
ries of slavery, will be the fruit of our victories."

A CAMPAIGN OF LOOT.

On the 7th of May the Directory had sent secret instruc-
tions to Napoleon regarding his action against Austria and
central Italy. With regard to Pius VI. they write : " If Rome
offer to make terms, the first thing to do is to require the
pope to have solemn prayers for the prosperity of the French
Republic. Some of his fine monuments, statues, pictures, medals,
libraries, bronzes, Madonnas of silver, and also bells, will repay
us for our outlay."

Pius VI., seeing the storm gathering, bethought him of tak-
ing steps to ward it off. For this purpose he sent the Mar-
chese Antonio Gnudi and the Chevalier d'Azara to meet Napo-
leon and come to an agreement that might prevent the invasion
of the Papal States. They reached Milan after the proclama-
tion cited above. They had an interview with Napoleon, who
'told them that no resolution had been taken regarding Rome.
About the same time he told the Marchese Manfredini, who had
come to see him in the name of the Grand Duke of Tuscany,
to give himself no uneasiness, for if any movement of troops
took place, it was to be against the Papal States, not against
Ferdinand III. of Naples. On the /th of June he wrote to
the Directory : " From the conversation I had this morning
with M. d'Azara, the Spanish minister, envoy of the pope, it
seemed to me he had orders to offer us contributions. I shall
soon be in Bologna. Do you wish me, in return for granting

1896.] PlUS VI. AND THE FRENCH DIRECTORY. J

an armistice to the pope, to accept twenty-five millions (francs)
in money, five millions in provisions, three hundred pictures,
statues and manuscripts in proportion, and that I cause to be
released all patriots in prison on account of the revolution ? '
Other instructions were also asked for. The Directory, through
Carnot, on the I5th of June, wrote approving the plan. Later
on the armistice, with its onerous conditions, was accepted, and
the French agents sent to Rome took good care that the con-
ditions were fulfilled. In the meantime, in accordance with
the second article of the agreement, on granting the armistice,
the pope had sent Count Cristoforo Pieracchi, as his minister
plenipotentiary to the French government with instructions to
recognize the new government of France, with powers to con-
clude a definite treaty of peace. He gave him also an apostolic
letter in the form of a breve, dated July 5, 1796. In this the
pope says : " It is a Catholic dogma that princedoms are or-
dained and erected by the wisdom of God, that men, in the
confusion of things, may not find themselves tossed by the
waves and overturned like the sea in a storm. Therefore, St.
Paul has taught that all power comes from God, and he who
resists authority (or power) resists the ordinance of God. That
they (the people of France) should take heed lest they be de-
ceived, and under the appearance of piety give to the authors
of new things an occasion and pretext to blame the Catholic
religion. They should rather obey with alacrity and diligence
those who are in command, because by so doing they would
discharge a duty due to God ; and those at the head of the
republic, seeing that the orthodox religion is not seeking to
subvert the civil laws, would be led to favor and protect it.
They should not listen to any one announcing teaching other
than this, saying that it comes from the Holy See."

The Directory, however, did not want peace with Rome.
They exacted an impossible condition from the pope, "that he
should disapprove, recall, and annul all the bulls, breves, re-
scripts, admonitions, apostolic charges, etc., emanating from the
Holy See from 1789 to the present day." On this being de-
clined, Count Pieracchi was told that negotiations were broken
off and his mission was at an end.

It would take too much space to narrate the successive
steps that led to the final invasion of the Papal States and to
the treaty of Tolentino. The pope turned to Naples for help,
and to Austria. He began to prepare for defence, calling his
subjects to arms and asking them for assistance. They re-

8 PlUS VI. AND THE FRENCH DIRECTORY. [Oct.,

sponded nobly. But all was of no avail. The French troops
crossed the line, and at the Ponte di Faenza routed the Papal
troops opposed to them in a skirmish. This was the only
action between the two armies, and the enforced treaty of
Tolentino was the result. We do not propose to go further
than the conclusion of this compact ; it would be beyond our
scope. What we wish to do is to lay before the reader cer-
tain documents of what seems to us of first importance as
foreshadowing the history and the trials of the Papacy during
the past hundred years. Here are the papers ; our few deduc-
tions will close this article.

CRAFTY POLICY OF NAPOLEON,

Both the Directory and Napoleon labored to counteract the
influence of Rome, of which the latter recorded his opinion in
a letter to the former, dated October 8, 1796. Wishing to de-
tach Naples from Rome, he advised speedy peace with King
Ferdinand, as such an alliance would be formidable. He says :
" Diminish your enemies. The influence of Rome is incalcu-
lable. To break with this power has been a very bad step."
In consequence of this strong letter of Bonaparte the treaty
with Ferdinand was concluded at once. But it was policy, a
desire to gain time, not consideration for the pope and the
church, that caused any delay in his action against Rome. He
strove to isolate the pope, and he succeeded. To gain time,
and have his hands free to meet Austria, he carried out his
intention of so doing by the following letter to Cardinal Mattei :

"HEADQUARTERS OF FERRARA, October 21, 1796.

The court of Rome has refused to accept the terms of
peace offered by the Directory. It has broken the armistice,
suspending the execution of it; it is now arming; it wants
war and it will have it. But before looking in cold blood on
the ruin and death of those who are senseless and oppose the
phalanxes of the Republic, I owe it to my nation, to humanity,
to myself, by a last endeavor to bring back the pope to senti-
ments more moderate, more in conformity with his real inter-
ests, his character, and reason.

" My Lord Cardinal, you know the forces and the strength
of the army I command. To destroy the temporal power of the
pope I have but to will it. Go to Rome ; see the Holy
Father, and enlighten him with regard to^ his true interests,
etc., etc."

1896.] PlUS VI. AND THE FRENCH DIRECTORY. 9

Three days after he writes to the French agent in Rome,
Cacault, October 24, 1796: "The Directory gives me the
information that you are charged to continue the negotiations
with Rome. Keep me informed of what you will do, that I
may seize the moment favorable to carry out the intentions of
the Directory. You understand well that after the peace with
Naples and Genoa, after our harmonious relations with the
King of Sardinia, after the recovery of Corsica and our mani-
fest preponderance in the Mediterranean, I shall only await
the opportune moment to throw myself on Rome and avenge
the honor of the nation ; just now the great thing is to gain
time, etc."

THE REAL OBJECT OF THE QUARREL.

What the intentions of the Directory were about this time
are evident from a letter addressed to Bonaparte on February
3, 1797, by Rewbell, the president of that body:

" The Directory, considering all the obstacles to the stability
of the French constitution, are persuaded that the Roman cult
is that of which the enemies of liberty can, for a long time
to come, make a most dangerous use. Accustomed as you are,
citizen general, to reflect, you will certainly have become aware,
not less than ourselves, that the Roman religion will always
be an irreconcilable enemy of the Republic. . . . Certainly
there are means to be used here in France to render, insensibly,
void of influence the Catholic religion. ... It belongs to
the government to find them. Nevertheless there is one point,
which perhaps is not less essential to reach the desired attain-
ment of that end, to destroy, that is if it can be done, the
centre of Roman unity ; and to you, who hitherto have known
how to unite the most distinguished qualities of a captain with
those of an able statesman, it belongs to fulfil this desire, if
you judge it practicable. Wherefore the Directory invite you
to do what may seem to you possible . . . in order to
destroy the Papal government, placing Rome under another
power, or establishing (what would be better) a form of
national government that would render odious and contempti-
ble the government of the priests, and the pope and the Sacred
College could have no hope of residing in Rome, and would be
obliged to go seek a residence elsewhere, or at least would no more
have temporal power"

Bonaparte, however, did not judge that the time had come
to entirely destroy the temporal princedom of the pope. He

IO PlUS VI. AND THE FRENCH DIRECTORY. [Oct.,

wrote from Macerata, on February 15, to the Directory thus:
" I will grant peace to the pope provided he cede his right
of property to the Republic of France over the legations of
Bologna, of Ferrara and of the Romagna, the Duchy of Urbino
and the Marches of Ancona, and pay us, in the first place, the
three millions, the value of the treasure of Loreto ; in the
second place, fifteen millions due on account of the armistice ;
give up all horses and arms and send away (General) Colli and
all the Austrians. If these conditions are not accepted, I will
go to Rome. But I prefer to conclude an agreement for the
following reasons : First, in this way I shall avoid a discussion
with the King of Naples which might become serious.
Secondly, if the pope and his principal advisers were to fly
from Rome I could not get what I ask. Thirdly, Rome
despoiled of her fairest provinces will not be able to subsist
long, and the revolution will come of itself. Fourthly, since
the Roman court will have ceded all its rights over the said
provinces at the general peace, this conquest will not be con-
sidered as a momentary success, for it will be a matter definite-
ly settled."

* v

It is hardly necessary to make any comment on these
documents ; they speak for themselves. Nevertheless, by way
of conclusion we may be permitted to present one or two
reflections that spontaneously offer themselves.

The first is, that this hatred of Rome and of the temporal
power of the popes came from the very condition of things at
the time. It was once said in the Italian Parliament that there
was no possibility of conciliation between Rome and Italy,
because the constitution of Italy was but the substance of the
condemned propositions of the Syllabus. The French Revolution
was the incarnation of infidelity and of deism. The mutual
essential opposition of- naturalism and of revealed religion
necessarily gave rise to the ideas expressed by Rewbell and
by Napoleon. Reason had been deified, religion had been
cast out, Freemasonry had done its work.

FREEMASONRY AT THE BOTTOM OF THE CONSPIRACY.

We note another interesting fact : that the plan the revolu-
tion has been carrying out during the past century, from 1796
to 1896, was thoroughly laid out by the French Directory
speaking through Rewbell, the president the destruction of the
centre of Roman unity, by taking away the temporal power
of the popes. What is the reason that there has been such

1896.] PlUS VI. AND THE FRENCH DIRECTORY. II

consistency in carrying out this means to an end deemed so
efficacious in overthrowing the Catholic Church ? The answer
is an easy one. The secret societies conceived the idea, and
set the machinery in motion. A moral body, the sect of Free-
masonry does not die. It lives on to carry out its purpose,
and the same spirit it had in 1796 it has had during the
whole century, and it has it to-day ; and the proof of this is
before our eyes in the complete spoliation of the pope, who,
from September 19, 1870, to this day has remained a prisoner
in the Vatican, out of which, during these twenty-six years just
passed, he has never put his foot. It seems to us that what is
revealed by the letters just quoted should convince us that if
the clear insight of the avowed enemies of the Catholic Church
made them appreciate the importance of "destroying the
centre of Roman unity," by doing away with the temporal
power of the pope, Catholics should appreciate the importance
of preserving the centre of Roman unity by the restoration of
the temporal power. It is useless to cry out against this, that
the times are not suited to the restoration of the temporal
power. Who made these times such as they are ? Naturalism,
hostility to Catholicity on the part of non-Catholic churches,
unconsciously sympathizing with the efforts of naturalism, and
finally indifference on the part of Catholics to their religion,
the assistance of which they care not to have during health,
but earnestly seek in time of sickness or when in danger of
death.

THE DUTY OF CATHOLICS.

As for the times, are free institutions going to take pos-
session of all the kingdoms of the earth ? For our part we
do not feel justified in answering affirmatively. One thing is
certain : there is nothing intrinsically evil in a monarchical form
of government, and the present Pontiff has explicitly said that
there is no special form of government that has the monopoly
of right, and that the form of government is best which, the
law of justice being observed, best suits the people who are to
live under it. Italy is a kingdom. It was not a republic
despoiled the pope ; it was a kingdom, backed by an empire,
both obeying the behests of Freemasonry. This is the simple
truth that cannot be gainsaid. In view of this we see no incon-
gruity in the restoration of the Pope to his sovereign temporal
power; while, with the Freemasons of France and of Italy, we
recognize the possession of that temporal power as of vital

12 PIUS VI. AND THE FRENCH DIRECTORY. [Oct.,

importance for the maintenance of Roman or Catholic unity.
How such a restoration is to come about it is not in the
power of any one to say, nor can the form of that temporal
sovereignty be outlined. Moreover it pertains to the Sovereign
Pontiff himself, when the time comes, to say what it is to be,
what he will accept, and what he will refuse. The part of a
good Catholic is complete harmony of view with the Vicar of
Christ in what vitally affects the interests of the church ; a
harmony of which in these days of ours we have had a noble
and grand example in the Catholics of Germany, led on by their
distinguished leader, Windthorst, when, in obedience to the
wishes of Pope Leo XIII., they laid aside their opposition to
the Septennat, thus gaining, as far as could be, the good will of
the Emperor and of Prince Bismarck.

NAPOLEON'S FAULTS AND MERITS.

As for Napoleon, though he was at first an instrument of
the French Revolution, and is shown by this work of Mon-
signor Baldassari to have been a man of undoubted duplicity,
it is generally said he never lost his faith. We believe this.
He forgot his duties to it, and warred against the pope ; and
God, in his mercy, chastised him for it, perhaps in reward for
what he did for religion in France, once he became its ruler.
It is human to err, and men are very human. We may cast a
veil of pity over their wrong-doings, and give them praise for
what they did well. So with Napoleon, as we see him in the
bitterness of his trials condemning himself for what he did
wrong, we may look only to the many good deeds performed
for the preservation of the greatest gift God has given to man,
the faith and hope that for these he has received an eternal
reward.

1896.] PILLARS OF SALT. 13

PILLARS OF SALT.

BY HENRY AUSTIN ADAMS, M.A.

is the day of the convert. How to make one,
how to develop him when made, then how to
make more converts these, it would seem, will
presently be the questions most discussed by the
Catholic press. There possibly was never a time
before when one heard so much about non-Catholics as such.
Nor, indeed, is this to be wondered at in view of the growing
company of pilgrims pouring across the Campagna of bleak
negation, by every highway, into the Eternal City.

" All roads lead to Rome ' -eventually. The world is likely
to find this out quite soon, thanks to the new sign-posts which
Leo XIII. is setting up. Every encyclical of his is one, and
set up, too, at the perplexing cross-roads of our modern
thought.

It may be that his reign will most be celebrated in the
days to come because of just this motley concourse of those
whom his compelling love has won to God : strangers at Rome,
and proselytes innumerable, and the dispersed.

At all events, it is a time of conversions and of converting
energy. Hence the peculiar prominence given the subject. To
every phase of it attention has been called not only by news-
papers published by Catholic authority, but (in a different tem-
per) by the non-Catholic religious press.

The latter frequently has that to say which, ludicrous as it
must seem to us, nevertheless throws light on, let us not say
the facts, but what is quite as useful, namely, their own inter-
pretation of phenomena which from our safe, near side seem
clear enough.

Of late, for instance, it has become the fashion among these
journals to say of converts,

" Leave them alone,
And they'll come home," etc.

The Episcopalian Bo-Peep, whose sheep are for ever being lost
in the adjoining Papal pastures, does presently much comfort
herself with the above refrain. So much so, indeed, is she sus-
tained by that hope that the editor of her foremost paper, in

14 PILLARS OF SALT. [Oct.,

commenting upon the return of a " pervert ' the other day,
jauntily declared that " most all of them return, anyhow, after
a year or two."

We know, as does also the reverend editor, that hope and
prejudice between them beget a delicious indifference to facts,
and that nothing is easier than hasty generalizing, unless, per-
haps, hateful generalizing. At Charleston the first earthquake
seemed an awful exception ; the second shock had a familiar
look ; the third fixed the earthquake habit, and for months the
negroes looked for the cataclysm as regularly as for sunrise.

Given our cat and another cat on the roof, and the imagi-
nation of the boy at once prompts the statement of the old
nursery tale, " There must be a million cats on our roof."
Editors will be boys.

No, not " most ' converts fall away. One can count those
that do, but not those that do not. Moreover, such a spiritual
revulsion is quite the most inexplicable movement that one
sees. It stands out above and apart from the conceivable ; it
is exceptional, singular, disquieting. Hence two, three, half a
dozen cases, and our editor flies off into his " most of them."

Not most ! Infinitesimally few. But inexpressibly sadden-
ing these few, are they not ? And full, moreover, of signifi-
cance to us and our day of convert-making.

To the average Catholic mind it seems strange beyond all
else that devout men and women, earnestly striving to face
God and the light, can live and die outside the church. How
utterly beyond comprehension must it seem, therefore, that any
one who has once passed the stormy trials inseparable from a
conversion to the Truth, can deliberately retrace his steps and
choose again the city of confusion for his soul's abode ! And
yet this "looking back' to the abandoned city does occur at
times, and the ineffably sad spectacle is seen of some one hur-
rying across the plain to enter once again the very Sodom or
Gomorrah from which he had but yesterday escaped with fear
and anguish !

When these relapses shock us by their nearness to us we
feel, as possibly at no other time, our Blessed Lord's swift,
terrible injunction : " Remember Lot's wife ! ' But to no Catho-
lic can these pathetic derelictions speak as to such Catholics as
have themselves come from the desolation that is doubt. The
present writer knows no subject quite so full of pain, no problem
so perplexing and saddening withal. A few thoughts bearing
on it may not be now amiss.

1896.] PILLARS OF SALT. 15

First of all, then, the reasons commonly assigned for these
reversions are superficial and anything but charitable. We
hear that " So-and-So," having " turned Catholic ' a year ago,
has just thought better of his ill-digested step and has returned
to his former church. And in explanation we are told that he
had found that all is not gold that glitters ; that he has found
things behind the scenes not as fair as in front of the foot-
lights ; that now that the glamour and tinsel are seen close by,
their cheapness is discovered ; and that " the human element '
under saintly robes and back of spectacular mysteries has now
been felt too palpably!

The re-vert who declares these reasons have actuated him
only echoes the statements of an unthinking world or, if he
does so earnestly, degrades himself unspeakably.

Either in leaving his first position or in deserting his new
he confesses that he has acted in the most humiliating lack of
the only motives which can for a moment be held sufficient
for so unspeakably important a step.

Look at it. It is inconceivable that any one would think at
all of putting every sacred tie in life to the perilous strain in-
volved in a change of faith except for some compelling, funda-
mental, vital reason. A conversion to the Catholic religion
means, usually, the giving shame, heart-ache, anxiety to parents,
friends, fellow-Christians. It involves the repudiation of all
that is held sacred by those who love one most. It scandal-
izes, disturbs, disgusts those whose respect has been one's chief-
est measure of satisfaction. It seems to be a betrayal of honor
in its very soul, when the convert is called and thought to be
a priest of God. And since man is still an animal it nearly
always costs him suffering. In nearly every instance it means
a loss of comfort, influence, respect, money ! Therefore it
would most certainly not once be thought of but for the voice
within which will not down. Some lofty, powerful reason must
be sought for a self-injury so grievous.

The Holy Spirit moves in many ways. Perhaps no two re-
count the same impelling motives ; but surely, coming from
whatever point, the panting pilgrims when they fall within the
bosom of the dear old church all know and say that they have
come from doubt, confusion, and uncertainty, in quest of the
" City which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God"
Yes ! they have come for these two things Certitude and the
Presence ! For these only was the sacrifice made ; these alone
were before father or mother or wife or lands or houses.

1 6 PILLARS OF SALT. [Oct.,

Nor is it conceivable, furthermore, that a man could take
the awful responsibility, and inflict and incur so much pain, un-
less the negative untenableness and untruthfulness of his present
position had first prompted the search for the positive good of
some other. Only after the heart has starved, and the soul has
fainted, and the mind grown bewildered by the discord and
godlessness of a church, is it to be thought possible that a
man can think of escape. Even then he searches diligently for
reasons for remaining ; he calls aloud for some one to comfort
and to reassure him. Oh ! the pitiful clinging to the house
where one's faith lies dead. Oh ! the hungering quest of those
who, though abiding in the tents of their fathers, " show plainly
that they seek a country."

They remain, God knows, till they cannot ; some even till
they die. To those whose escape we take note of comes an
hour when they must go !

Now, is it credible that one so harassed and constrained by
the lack of truth where he is, and having at infinite cost and
pain sought it in the despised Nazareth of Catholicity, can
for any of the commonly alleged causes return to the city
of the plain ? Never !

And yet some do return. Why? God only knows! But
that a soul so turning back can possibly be anything less piti-
ful than was Lot's wife I cannot think. Pillars of Salt, at best,
whose bitterness is this they found no refuge.

Of these are also doubters, troubled souls, who for some
cause have not received that " Margarita preciosa ' -Faith !
These re-verts stand out from the dreary plain quite the most
needy of our prayers and pity.

Think of it ! Theirs was no soul to take its ease amid the
Babel of confusion and the death of truth. They heard and
heeded when the Voice bade them flee ! They broke their very
heart-strings for the sake of Truth, and fled from home and
friends and good repute. And we rejoiced to see them reach
our sweet walled city. And then, to our unutterable amaze-
ment, we saw them leave. Whither ? Apparently to go whence
they had come ; but fancy to what bitterness the soul has sunk
when, having thought God had a place and home where man
could know him, it has come to think there is not such a place
nor home and so, heart-sick, chagrined, plods back to that
which was a hell of torments. The man may reach it his joy
and peace do not ; they are congealed, a very monument of
dried-up tears, there on the trackless plain. God pity them !

1896. PILLARS OF SALT. 17

All this talk about " the human element in the church'
scandalizing the raw convert, and the disappointment on find-
ing human nature under Catholic conditions, is nonsense. As
if there were any lack of the human element in the Protestant
denominations ! I was constantly amused when I was first
thrown with Catholics, after becoming one myself, by their ef-
forts to explain and apologize for this human element, finding
myself thought to be a very tender, not to say squeamish, sort
of a Miss Nancy who would be shocked by the downright
common sense and lack of cant found, thank God ! among
Catholics.

So far from this precious human element scandalizing the
recent convert, I believe that nothing is more refreshing than
this very naturalness of Catholicity, after the long suffocation,
artificiality, and emotionalism of Protestantism. Poverty, plain-
ness, simplicity, bluntness, downrightness are glories, and they
seem so to the convert fresh from the plush and unction of
official Protestantism.

Nor can we find any sufficient reason for a relapse in the
experience of the convert as a practical Catholic. No. There
is one reason his faith is dead. It was given to him ; he has
lost it. What can he learn of the history of the church, of
the doctrines, of the life, after becoming a Catholic, that he
could not before ? Nothing. In fact, it is beyond belief that
any one could possibly endure the throes of a conversion, unless
and until all that is included in the Catholic faith burned itself
into the conscience as God's inexorable truth. What happens
is the death of faith. And so the wretched soul creeps back
to the familiar faces and accustomed scenes of the old Babel
from which while faith remained he fled at any and all costs !

It is not logical to say " he found Rome wanting, therefore
he returned "; for he did not seek Rome till all else failed.
Does the Episcopalian din turn into God's own order during
the temporary absence of some convert? Certainly not. Why,
then, return ? Ask of Lot's wife.

VOL. LXIV. 2

1 8 LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA. [Oct.,

LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA.

BY J. WISEMAN KEOGH.

A I'odeur seule je devinerai la Corse les yeux fermes." Napoleon.
\

'O those who have once visited Corsica this well-
known saying of the greatest among her many
great sons at once vivifies past memories. The
scent of the multitudinous aromatic plants of
the deep and flowery brushwood the Corsican
maquis is so strong that it is often perceptible many miles
out to sea. It is this maquis which yields shelter to Corsica's
famous, and still existing, bandits. The Corsican system of
brigandage is (and more especially was) very different from
that of Italy, Sicily, and Greece. Originally it had nothing to
do with robbery; and the Corsican outlaw still takes to the
maquis, not for the sake of plundering indiscriminately but
because he has put himself under a legal ban. He has com-
mitted murder, in obedience to the strict code of honor of
his country. His victim may have been his family's hereditary
foe, or his own enemy, of yesterday's making ; but if there
were an insult or a blood-feud to avenge, ancient or recent,
Corsican opinion holds that the avenger has fulfilled a duty,
rather than committed a crime. The frame of mind that rules
the laws of the vendetta is not difficult to realize for any one
who has entered into the spirit of continental armies, of
German students' corps, or of polite society in the English
duelling days.

In one period of thirty years 1821 to 1850 there were no
less than 4,319 murders in Corsica. The duel recognized a
hostile meeting and bloodshed as the only " remedy ' for deep
insult. The Corsican code is infinitely more deadly, because
the last victory always calls for renewed violence. This terri-
ble vendetta has been attributed to two principal causes : the
first, early misgovernment (under Genoese rule redress for
wrongs was almost unattainable, and private vengeance for
homicide or insult was the natural consequence) ; the second,
the Corsican's immemorial custom of wearing arms in every-
day life. This habit led to the bloody termination of many a
quarrel.

1 896.]

LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA.

The vendetta, alas ! is fast losing much of what has been
called its " ancient morality." It is often now a cloak for mere

spite, or un-
justifiable re-
prisals.

A RUS IN
URBE.

At Ajac-
cio, whence I
write, " one
lives, at one
and the same
time, within
a town and
in the midst
of nature.
D. W. Fresh-
field, of the
Alpine Club,
writes : " I
at any rate
know of no
such combin-
ation of sea
and moun-
tains, of the
sylvan beauty

of the north with the rich colors of the south ; no region
where within so small a space nature takes so many sub-

LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA.

[Oct.,

lime and exquisite aspects as she does in Corsica." The bay
of Ajaccio resembles a vast Italian lake. " From the snow-
peaks of the interior to the southern extremity of the bay,"
says a writer in the Cornhill Magazine, " peak succeeds peak,
and ridge rises behind ridge in a line of wonderful variety and
beauty, while the sea below is blue and rarely troubled. In
the early morning Monte d'Oro sparkles like a Monte Rosa
with its fresh snow. In the evening violet and purple tints,
and the golden glow of Italian sunset, add a new lustre to this
fairy-land. In fact the beauties of Switzerland and Italy are
curiously blended in this landscape." The town itself is simply
a healthy, fairly well-appointed winter resort, the only one in
Corsica offering the comforts, or even the mere accommodation,

THE BAY OF AJACCIO RESEMBLES A VAST ITALIAN LAKE.

needful for a lengthened stay. The " Cours Grandval," or
strangers' quarter, possesses some good hotels ; one of which
is really excellent, and both for beauty of position and for
comfort can quite hold its own with any on the Continent.

1896.]

LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA.

Private dwellings are few and difficult to obtain. The older
town, the principal streets excepted, is very dirty ; and it is
really inconceivable how a prosperous municipality, anxious to
attract strangers, can tolerate its present condition. The

GROTTOES OF BONIFACIO.

interior of the island is in many parts also of great beauty.
Valleys of alpine verdure are succeeded by tracts of chestnut
woods, or pine and beech forests. Large parts of the country
are left in their primeval wildness. In spring peach and
almond blossoms abound, and the roadsides are bordered with
asphodel and violets. The maquis blazes with cistus flowers,
red and silver ; and golden brown mixes with the dark purple
of the great French lavender. Over the whole mass of blos-
soms wave plumes of Mediterranean heath and sweet-scented
coronilla. At this season, indeed, the home of the bandits is
fair to look upon.

A CORSICAN EXECUTION.

Ajaccio had been astir from 3 A. M. The crowd and the
cries were increasing under the windows, and I dressed and

22 LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA. [Oct.,

sallied forth in the gray dawn to examine a historical machine
about which I felt some curiosity the guillotine. Deibler, his
son, and two assistant executioners had just erected it. A plat-
form stood on the ground, on a level with the lowest step in
the flight leading up to the court-house. On this platform is
the important bascule, the movable portion which jerks the
condemned into position. And the lunette, which supports his
neck at the proper angle to the great knife. Above the plat-
form rises the gibbet-like structure from which descends the
bevelled steel blade. Below the lunette stands the black box,
half full of sawdust, ready to receive the head. The bascule
drops the headless trunk of the victim into a long, black,
wicker, coffin-like receptacle, which is also half filled with saw-
dust. As I walked toward the ghastly scaffold, outlined upon a
whitening sky, a bridal procession streamed out into the street.
The niece of our femme de menage had been married at the
mairie the day before. The local custom ordains that feasting
and dancing shall be kept up between the time of the civil
ceremony till about the hour for the couple to go to be mar-
ried in church. The bride swept the muddy street with her
trailing white wedding dress. A procession of maids and
bachelors followed her. The roadway afterwards wore trace of
their passage like the track of an English brush-fitted mud-
cart. The wedding guests looked rather wan and weary in the
gaslight and the dim dawn.

A few steps nearer the guillotine the last noisy revellers
from a masked ball were pouring into the thronged street.
Some still wore their dominoes. Some were dressed as Pierrots
and others had various flimsy calico disguises. All the door-
ways and windows, as well as the thoroughfares, were crowded
with the people drawn by the grim spectacle of an execution.
Presently the wedding guests, the masked keepers of carnival,
and the throng of Ajaccions, were driven forward, and to right
and left, by a large body of soldiery, marching, as it seemed,
with muffled tread. Till the soldiers came the crowd had
yelled greetings to distant acquaintances ; had argued loudly ;
and protested against neighbors' encroachments ; the half-tipsy
masks had shouted snatches of song, and had taken noisy fare-
well of each other. Had not Bonelli's execution been watched
for daily during the last three weeks ? The feeling was abroad
that Sunday morning might furnish the morbidly curious with
their twenty-second disappointment. He might be reprieved.
But with the quiet appearance on the scene of the two hundred

1 896.]

LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA.

soldiers a change came over the spirit of the crowd. Men
held their breath ; and women, of whom there were a majority,

became silent and awe-struck. Not having any turn for
slaughter-house sights, I was leaving the Place Palais de Justice

24 LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA. [Oct.,

when some gentlemen at a window beckoned me, insisting
vehemently that I should come to where they stood. It took
some time to thread my way through the crowd in the street,
through a tightly packed entrance, and then an equally full
hall, and when I found myself face to face with the men who
had summoned me with such insistence, the troops had formed
three sides of a square facing the steps of the court-house,
and surrounding the scaffold ; mounted gendarmes were posted
at intervals ; the prison door opened, and Bonelli appeared,
preceded by the prison chaplain, holding aloft a crucifix. The
executioner and his assistants issued forth from the same door
at the same time. Prompted by an irresistible impulse, officers
and officials all uncovered as the condemned man passed. The
priest prayed and exhorted. The unfortunate man responded.
He walked as firmly as is possible to one whose hands are
tied behind his back, and further attached by a cord to one
heel. Bonelli fixed his eyes upon the uplifted cross. It was
broad daylight now, and there were floods of early sunshine.
The man was handsome, tall, lithe, and thirty years of age.
His bare breast was startlingly white. A growth of soft dark
beard fringed his chin. His face was pale. The upward glance
gave his countenance a lightsome, inspired expression ; and I
was compelled to think as I looked at him of a mediaeval saint,
painted by some great Italian master.

He advanced as rapidly as his constrained position per-
mitted. When he appeared there was one great sobbing cry
from the crowd. Then a perfect stillness fell.

The chaplain embraced the prisoner in farewell ; a jerk from
the assistant executioners placed him, face downwards, upon
the bascule ; another touch was needed to bring the head to
the precise spot in the lunette. Deibler touched a lever, and
the glittering knife severed the neck. From his prison door to
step to instantaneous death was the affair of a moment one
long, agonizing moment for the spectators.

The first impression was one of wonder and relief that the
death penalty could be exacted so mercifully, so decently.
And every soul present seemed to live through the supreme
moment in unison with the condemned man.

There was a sort of gasp, or groan, which went round the
dense crowd when all was over, and then a solemn silence fell.
The crowd broke up, white-faced and deeply impressed. What
a contrast the street presented (as I made my way home) from
its early aspect, with the gaping populace, the somewhat faded

1 896.]

LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA.

and weary wedding procession, and the noisy revellers from
the ball!

The crime for which Bonelli suffered was the murder of a

beggar-man, whose half-burned remains he tried to pass off as

ON THE ROAD TO BASTIA.

the corpse of Casanuova, or " Cappa," a bandit on whose head
the authorities had set a price. A cowardly and sordid crime,
in which it was impossible to believe while I gazed at the come-
ly young fellow, who had left the army with the rank of non-
commissioned officer, who was a municipal councillor, a house-
holder, and the father of a family.

DISPUTATIVE PREACHING PLANTING THE CROSS.

I was in Ajaccio cathedral when a charming old lady
pretty and sprightly though white-haired came towards me
whispering : " Will you help us to plant the cross ? There is no
fund available for such a purpose. It rests with us ladies to
collect a sum." I had then no notion what "planting a cross'
meant, but speedily discovered that a new cross is erected wher-
ever a "mission' has been held. Six members of a preaching
order had taught, held conferences, and lectured during Lent.
During the Easter holidays they gave " Dialogues ' every even-
ing in the cathedral. Their plan is this : one of the reverend
brethren mounts the pulpit; another is seated in one of the can-
ons' stalls. As soon as the congregation inclines to be drowsy the
cleric in the stalls takes objection to something that has fallen
from the pulpit. Politely, but with decision, he protests that

LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA.

[Oct.,

the preacher goes too far. Instantly the congregation wakes up,
and is attentive to the very end. Let us say the sermon is
against theft. The preacher has been ten minutes laying down
the law in a rich southern voice. The day's end is near ; the
light is dim. Soft sleep has settled on several of those present.
A new voice from another quarter cries : " Pardon me, rever-

ASCENT OF MONTE CINTO.

end brother, but is it not straining the law to say every theft
is sinful?' The preacher quotes: " Thou shalt not steal."
The objector continues : " Supposing I take, meaning to give

1896.]

LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA.

back." " Borrowing may be lawful ' is the reply with a dis-
sertation on the " borrowing ' that is not lawful. And the lax
view is upheld spasmodically from the choir-stalls until the

H^fe;.V-
/" t "~ "*^ ^5

.<;-r;;:^^PP

A PITEOUS PICTURE OF THE OLD BEREAVED MOTHER.

objector is forced behind his entrenchments, whence he hurls a
case : " Suppose I am starving in a rich master's house ; may
I not lawfully take food enough to save my life ? ' Whereupon

28 LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA. [Oct.,

the preacher says : " Here enters the duty of self-preservation
and the rights of labor " ; whereupon both clerics admit that
they are of one mind as to essentials, but that there is a slight
margin of difference open to theologians, even in the mat-
ter of theft, and amongst those high above all suspicion of un-
orthodoxy. Then the occupant of the pulpit sums up, and
perorates without further interruption. The preaching campaign
wound up on Low Sunday with a remarkable procession, intent
upon cross-planting. The new cross was first erected on a plat-
form on the Place du Diamant, the great square where Napo-
leon rides in effigy, with his four brothers (who were kings of
his creating) walking, two at either side.

Ten men carried the cross northward to the little church of
St. Lucie, above the railway station. The procession was headed
by the clergy of St. Roch parish, with their red-robed acolytes,
cross-bearer, and suisse (a verger in effective livery and cocked
hat). Next followed the various guilds, or confraternities, in
their parti-colored " habits"; and after them came several hun-
dred school children. Behind these walked the missioners, local
priests, the students of the clerical college ; and next came the
great cross itself. The municipal band marched after this mon-
ument, and was immediately followed by the chapter of the
cathedral, preceded by a unique specimen of a sacristan an
old man in skull-cap and dressing-gown-like garment, trimmed
with broad red bands down the front. The venerable bishop,
crozier in hand, followed his canons. The whole population
" processed ' too ; and the windows overlooking the Cours
Napoleon were gaily decorated with bed-quilts, colored table-
cloths, carpets, and odds and ends. Such is the local notion
of high state and ceremony !

THE VOCERO.

Some years ago I heard the Irish Caoine, now so rare.
There was talk of war in Africa, and some artillery militia from
Waterford were ordered .to Malta. To the ignorant women
this meant little short of certain death to their sons, husbands,
or brothers. And the railway station for a whole hour rang
with the Caoine. It was most painful to hear, and my ears
can still recall the sound.

Among the old Corsican customs, which are fast dying out,
is the Vocero, or funeral chant, improvised by women over the
bodies of the dead. This dirge is not unlike the Caoine, but it
can be fiercer, to match the ferocious temper and savage pas-

1896.]

LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA.

sions of this strange race a song pouring forth vengeance
and imprecation. At times, again, it shows tenderness and
poetical imagination difficult to surpass. Many of these Voceri
have been written down and preserved.

Imagine a cheerless house in the mountain village of Bocog-
nano, overshadowed by mournful chestnut-trees, and the corpse
of a murdered man lying inside. " The Gridata" or wake, is
assembled in a dark room. On a wooden board, called tola, the
corpse is stretched, and round it are women, veiled in the
black-blue mantle of Corsican costume, moaning and rocking

MOUFFLON.

on their chairs. Round the room are men with savage eyes
armed and keen for vengeance. The dead man's musket and
pistol lie beside him, and his bloody shirt is hung up at his
head. Suddenly, above the groans and muttered curses, rises
a sharp cry. A woman starts up the sister of the dead man.
She seizes his shirt, and, holding it aloft, gives rhythmic utter-
ance to her grief and rage. " I was spinning, when I heard a
great noise. It was a gun-shot, which went to my heart. I

"/..

} -" '

30 LIFE AND DEATH IN CORSICA. [Oct.

ran to the room above. I took the blow to my breast. He is
dead ; -and -there is nothing to give me comfort. Who will un-
dertake his vengeance? When I show thy shirt, who will vow
to let his beard grow till the murderer is slain ? Who is there
left to do it ? A mother near her death? A sister? Of all
our race there is only left a woman, without him ; and a poor
orphan, a girl! Yet oh, my brother! never fear; for thy ven-
geance thy sister shall suffice ! Give me the pistol ; I will
shoulder the gun. My brother, heart of thy sister, thou shalt
be avenged ! ' And, still fiercer in her maledictions, she prays
Christ and all the saints to extirpate the murderer's whole race ;
to shrivel it up till it passes from the earth !

But all the voceri are not so murderous. Some have been
composed for unwedded girls. Perhaps the best of these dirges
is one which celebrates the death of a certain Romana. It is
a pretty picture of the girl: " Among the best and fairest
maidens, you were like a rose among flowers ; like the moon
among stars ; so far more lovely were you than the loveliest.
The youths in your presence were like lighted torches, but full
of reverence ; you were courteous to all, but with none familiar.
In church they gazed at you, but you looked at none of them ;
and after Mass you said, ' Mother, let us go ! ' Oh ! who will
console me for your loss? Why did the Lord so much desire
you ? But now you rest in heaven, all joy and smiles ; for the
world was not worthy of so fair a face. Oh ! how far more
beautiful will Paradise be now ! ' Then follows a piteous pic-
ture of the old bereaved mother, to whom a day will seem a
thousand years. She must wait for death that she may again
join her darling.

YEAR AT OCTOBER?

BY EDWARD A. UFFINGTON VALENTINE.

WAS red October's ruined reign :
Leaves a-falling ;
Swallows calling, calling,
Through the wild winds of the

year ;

'Twas October, blear and bane,
Who, with torches lurid-bright,
Sets the very world alight ;
'Twas October, sad and sere !
She, my love, and I, together,
Stood within the woeful weather.

Tell me, sweet, why thy dear eyes
Hold the dew of autumn skies?
The flowers are fallen, the flowers are dead !
Weeping she hath answered.

Ah, dear heart ! their seeds are sown
On the dreamlands all our own ;
Thou may'st pluck them there for asking,
Fresh in memory's sunlight basking :
Love within his golden clime
Knows no waste of winter-time.

But the leaves, the leaves are flying,
Leaden leaves, ah ! watch them lying,
Hither, thither, in our way.
And, my love, how bright were they !

What, oh ! what are loosened leaves,
That thy spirit sorely grieves ?
They were like a darkened glass,
All too dim for eyes to pass,
Keeping soul to earth's short measure,
Forfeit of the purer pleasure,
When we gaze on open skies,
Where God looks into thine eyes.
Leaves, that were a darkened glass !
Nay, but note the withered grass ;
Withered, whitened, though it lingers,
'Neath the touch of frosty fingers !

Ah ! the eye may pierce the deeper,
Find the headstone of the sleeper,
Where lies love forgotten of time,
Knowing naught of rain or rime,

YEAR AT

OCTOBER.

[Oct.

Naught of fever or of fret,
Nor the joys that we abet !
(Who remembers in June closes,
When the brow is bound with roses,
And the grasses tangle green,
Of the dead that lie between ?)
Is it better, sweet, to know
They are sleeping there below,
They whose lips like ours were red,
And who now are dumb and dead ?
It is better, sweet, to know
That our love may warmer grow,
That we both may learn to give
More to each the while we live !
Were it best that we forget,
Until tears the eyes bewet ;
Letting love grow careless, colder,
(Ah, perchance, a turning shoulder!)
While the olden lips refuse
Love's qld favors, love's old dues?

Nay, but see the fleeting swallow,
Fleeing, while his kindred follow ;
Fading fading lost, alas !
To the purple south they pass ;
Hearken, how the last notes burn,
Falling as from summer's urn !

Even thus, when time doth order,
We shall go to death's dream-border,
Borne along like yonder swallows,
Soul with soul that closely follows,
Borne with singing lips and wings
Unto Love's perpetual things !

1896.] A WOOF OF PROVIDENCE. 33

A WOOF OF PROVIDENCE ; OR, GOD'S FIRE-
LADDIE.

BY JOHN J. A BECKET.

lOCTOR FARNHAM tore the letter in pieces and
impatiently flung the fragments into his waste-
paper basket. Another day - - perhaps two or
three ! He had been heavily taxed as it was in
holding feeling and reason down to an even gait,
that his Car of Life should not be too rudely jarred. So even
this delay irked him intolerably.

Almost a fortnight ago he had received the rudest shock
he had ever known. His sister had left him in the morning
for her wonted round of errands of mercy to suffering humanity.
Beneficence to her less fortunate brethren of the human family
was the mission of her life. Doctor Farnham had not the
slightest objection to this. He didn't believe in human nature
very much, and in God or religion he did not believe at alL
Without qualifying helpfulness to the needy by any epithet, he-
regarded it as one of the best things that could engage human
activities. He only laid down inflexibly that his sister should
not personally care for any infectious case, and that she would
have a reasonable restraint in her altruism. He would not
hear of her giving more than just so much of her time,
strength, and sympathies to others. He insisted that one of
her primary duties was to be a benefactress to herself and also
to him.

"It is unreasonable not to consider one's own self as the
primary and most important beneficiary of personal action,
just as it is to make self the one engrossing term of our
activity," he said sententiously, with the courage of his con-
victions.

This was Doctor Farnham's creed, and his ambition was to
live up to it. His sister was also a believer in the same
school. But they experienced diametrically opposite difficulties
in practising this religion of theirs. Miss Farnham was always
prone to neglect herself in care for others. Doctor Farnham,
with his cynical feeling for mankind in general, was often dis-
inclined to do a favor or a good action because the meanness
VOL. LXIV. 3

34 A WOOF OF PROVIDENCE ; [Oct.,

or offensiveness of the man, woman, or child made it distaste-
ful to him to help them, even while admitting their need.

Music, literature, and quiet dinner parties to some two or
three chosen friends were the recreations of their lives. Doc-
tor Farnham would not permit his sister to trench on the time
which he felt should be given to these. . In his calm, masterful
way he adored his sister. In her sweet, intensely clinging, wo-
manly way she worshipped him. Their lives were ideally con-
tent and rich in happiness.

This until a fortnight ago. The doctor was awaiting the
return of Miss Farnham. The lights in the dining-room were
lit and the two great chairs stood on either side of the table
elegantly laid for dinner. Doctor Farnham liked plenty of
light, tasteful appointments, and good living. Their dinners to-
gether were always very pleasant reunions after the occupations
of the day. They had paid their debt to outside humanity-
" the mean, cheap people that are not as nice as ourselves," as
Doctor Farnham put it and could with reason and quiet con-
science devote a measure to their own tastes and requirements.

There is no need to dwell on Miss Farnham's return on the
evening in question. The doctor had to lift her lifeless body
from her brougham. She had been seized with a paroxysm of
pain, at the close of her day's work for others, and entering
her carriage ordered the coachman to drive home as rapidly as
possible. But death is of quick foot, and he caught up Miss
Farnham on the way. As the carriage rattled over the pave-
ment, the lights flashing in at the window, the clang of street-
car bells, news-boys' cries, and the whole symphony of New
York out-door life sounding its hurried, jarring chord in her
ears, the good lady had passed away.

True, there was a look of the deepest calm on her face ;
such a sweet, placid, contented expression when Doctor Farn-
ham raised her in his arms that the abruptness and the sur-
roundings of her death seemed less horrid. But it had shocked
Doctor Farnham to his depths.

After the funeral he felt the need of change, the excite-
ment of travel. He tendered his resignation as physician in
the New York Hospital. It had been reluctantly accepted.
The letter he had just torn up was a note saying that the doc-
tor who was to succeed him was prevented from doing so on
the day appointed, and asking Doctor Farnham to remain a
day or two more. It was annoying, because he longed to tear
himself away from the scenes to which he was accustomed.

1896.] OR, GOD'S FIRE-LADDIE. 35

He was going to devote more thought to himself, as a duty
imposed on him by his carefully elaborated creed in this exhaust-
ing drain suffering had made on his being.

Poor soul-aching man ! Why some noble natures should
seem to lack only one thing for their admirable perfection, and
that thing the faith which the Son of God brought to man as
his most blessed possession, is a trying mystery of life. Doctor
Farnham's faults were superficial ones. He was brutally honest.
That his barren creed brought him happiness he did not even
pretend. But he regarded the comfort and support derived
from faith and religion in the same light as he looked on the
calm procured by morphine or opium. It was a peace bought
by surrendering the faculties to subjugation, an ignoble slavery.
At all events, an impossible one to his mind.

But he was a fearlessly, even aggressively, upright man. If
life was a cul de sac one could dignify its brief course. There
was not a page of his existence that could not have been bared
to the whole world. Nearly all of its consolations were con-
nected with his sister. The most subtle bond of sympathy had
always existed between them. Almost morbidly sensitive and
exacting in his fastidious views of woman and her relation to
man, he had put aside matrimony as something incompatible
with his own self-satisfied, coldly intellectual temperament.
His sister had met and soothed any permanent need of the so-
ciety of her sex that he entertained. How fully he did not
realize till she was so rudely torn from him. Sometimes he
felt that if he believed in God, and regarded events as his per-
sonal dispensation, he would hate him for dealing this unneces-
sary blow at the harmless happiness of his life.

He could not endure the clamorous repetition of his loss
which her absence from the familiar and luxurious home was
continually sounding in his heart. Sometimes he wondered
whether there had been any presentiment on her part of this
approaching doom, any warning pang which had sounded to
herself a note of foreboding. She had certainly surpassed her-
self in that subtle sense of sympathy and love with which she
had surrounded him in those last two or three weeks before
her death. There had been a more thrilling tenderness in her
sweet, gay smile ; a deeper look of steadfast love in her won-
derfully calm eyes ; and the touch of her delicate hand had
been like a blessing. She had seemed to hover over him with
a more devoted and encompassing yearning.

It was not that he felt this only now in the retrospect, nor

36 A WOOF OF PROVIDENCE ; [Oct.,

was it that the sweetness of her presence had been sharpened
to relief by the desolating void of her loss. No ; he remem-
bered almost the day when he had first marked the change.
Not that it was a change either, for she had not altered in the
number or character of her deeds. There was only added a
subtle something in their quality. It was a sort of spiritual
aroma which exhaled from her a sweet, ethereal perfume to the
heart. He could not account for it then. Now he was almost
tempted to think that the near presence of death might have
exercised some occult influence on her. He could fancy no
other cause.

But the remembrance of this added charm was a poignant
grief. It made her loss doubly unendurable. Life was very
wearisome to him. The Cui bono ? repeated itself insistently to
his mind. The thought of self-destruction was abhorrent to his
most radical ideas. It was the part of every human being to
endure as nobly as he could. But it was equally rational to
avoid all fruitless pain. So he would travel, scour the earth
for new scenes, new peoples, in order to distract himself from
his sorrow. He had made all his preparations for this, and to
be delayed at this juncture by the inability of his successor to
assume his duties at the hospital vexed him. It might be only
for a day, probably at longest two or three days ; but even this
goaded him. He wanted to be off at once.

He was wending his way home the morning following the
day he received this letter when an engine tore out of the
house in swift response to a fire-call. A young fireman was
hastily buttoning his coat and adjusting his helmet as the great
machine rattled along, the three horses in a gallop. A simple,
honest-looking young fellow, clinging with one hand to the rail
as he completed his fireman's toilet.

" There are a few things that redeem the wretched higgledy-
piggledy condition of affairs in this anything but best possible
world," thought Doctor Farnham, as he took in the spectacle.
" An heroic fireman is one. But the cheapening touch is that
this heroism is hired out for pay. That sturdy-looking chap
has to do this or he will not keep his position. But they some-
times do fine things that are not necessarily in the bond," he
added, with his strong sense of justice, as he walked on and
entered his lonely house. To cross its threshold was always to
have the dreary burden of his sister's absence oppress him anew.

A cry of horror broke from the crowd. The attention of

1896.] OR, GOD'S FIRE-LADDIE. 37

everybody had been centred on a daring young fireman
he had got as near the flaming church as the fierce heat would
permit, and was fighting the fire with such determined hearti-
ness. It was a spectacle of great interest for the crowd. All
the world loves a lover, but nearly all the world loves a fighter
too, especially a young fighter who is holding his own when
the odds are against him, though his cause is just. That is
what the fireman looked as the clouds of smoke would rush
upon him and swallow him up, while the flames would leap out
venomously as if straining to lick his firm body with their thin,
deadly tongues.

It was after a sudden puff of thick smoke which burst over
him and instantly cleared that the cry rose from the spectators.
In the effort to recover from the choking onset the fireman
had slipped on the narrow ledge, covered with snow and ice,
where he stood, and came tumbling down. The building was
a five-storied one, next to the blazing church. The windows
had heavy iron shutters to them, which were all tightly closed
except one. This one was on the first floor and for whatever
reason was open nearly at right angles with the wall.

The cry of involuntary horror that broke from the crowd
when the fireman fell was succeeded by a moan and murmur
of sympathetic anguish. For, by the irony of fate, he fell
athwart this one open shutter ! The pity of it was heightened
by the low, intense groan which the gallant fellow uttered, a
gasp of agony torn from him by the riving pain which furrowed
his being. Two or three of his comrades below rushed to catch
his limp body as it dropped from the shutter which had so
terribly broken his fall. His helmet had tumbled off onto the
sidewalk.

He was carried to the hospital, a helpless mass of agonizing
pain. He was hastily undressed and laid in a cot, his face with
the waxy whiteness of death on it, and his eyes seemingly
glazed with the film of dissolution. But the pulse in his stout
wrist still beat slowly, like the tick of the pendulum in an old
colonial clock, and his stanch heart fluttered feebly.

Doctor Farnham was summoned at once, made such examin-
ation as was possible, and prescribed something to allay the
awful pain. He recognized the young fireman as the one he
had seen that morning. In slipping his hand underneath the
blue flannel shirt to feel for the pulsation of the heart his
fingers had become entangled in a string. He pulled it out
and saw that it was a tape that went around the fireman's

38 A WOOF OF PROVIDENCE ; ^ [Oct.,

neck. To it was sewed a square of brown cloth, on the white
linen front of which was a print of the Blessed Virgin and the
Divine Child. Fastened also to this tape was another little
square of white linen, on which was stamped in red a heart
from the top of which flames were bursting. There was some
lettering which the doctor did not take the trouble to read.

"That brown rag is what they call a scapular," he thought,
" and the other is probably some fireman's badge. It would
have been better for the poor chap if he had had a parachute
fastened to him instead of these things."

When he called to see his patient the next day the fire-
man's eyes were open. They were clear gray eyes, filled with
pain. But there was also a look of quiet, iron endurance in
them. The fireman's face was not comely, yet there was some-
thing in its expression that could only be classed as beauty :
just as some of Botticelli's virgins are beautiful. The thin, long
visage, with high, strongly-marked cheek bones, was drawn into
tense lines by the acuteness of the young man's suffering. He
was a spare, wiry fellow, not more than twenty-two, with a se-
rious though frank and boyish character to his face. A light
fringe of brown mustache added to this expression, it was so
soft and fine.

Doctor Farnham had a physician's hardy, professional insen-
sibility to suffering in a patient. It was something to be ap-
preciated and to be alleviated, not a thing to have unnecessary
weight in the emotions. He was not insensible, however, to
the fine moral quality of heroic endurance. He read it here in
this young fireman in the highest degree, and it enlisted his
sympathies at the start.

"Well, my boy," he said in his fresh, calm voice, "how do
you feel now ? '

The heavy lids slowly uplifted from the gray eyes and a
brave smile flickered for a moment on the drawn lips flick-
ered and then died. The effort was too much. It was as if he
could not distract his force even so far from the suffering which
held him closely gripped. He made a plucky effort and said
with a faint voice :

" Send for Father Vaughan."

"All right," replied the doctor, "I will see that he comes.
But we must see how you are fixed first. Here is some brandy.
Drink that. It will brace you up while I make an examination."

The lids closed over the honest gray eyes and there was a
slow movement of refusal with his head.

1896.] OR, GOD'S FlRE-LADDIE. 39

" I don't drink," he said after a moment to gather his
strength. " Go ahead. I can- the effort cost him something,
but after a slight pause he concluded, " stand it. I want Father
Vaughan first."

Doctor Farnham's quick sense of humor was moved so that
he could hardly refrain from a smile at this reply. " Anybody
would think I had asked him to take a cocktail," he thought.
But this inward smile was succeeded by something like a sneer
of indignation. " He is a game young fellow and it is a pity
to see him so smothered in superstition. Here he is calling
for his priest before he even asks what his condition is, or
how it can be helped. It is a surgeon that he wants more
than a priest."

Doctor Farnham's naturally materialistic bias had been
deepened in him by his medical studies and practice. He re-
garded religion as a phase of sentimental feeling, mainly affect-
ing weak or narrow minds, and finding the best field for its
development in women and children. He was too broad and
too busy to harbor any strong intolerance of it. Theoretically
he deprecated its existence and resented its presence as a
slightly annoying obstruction. But he felt that the young fire-
man was not one to be easily handled on his religious side.

The sturdy pluck and youth and simplicity of his charge
appealed to him powerfully. He made a careful examination.
It revealed no hope for the man. He had been piteously
shattered. There was only one chance in a hundred for re-
covery, and if his iron will were to pull the victim through, he
would be a cripple for life. The fireman had not groaned or
winced as the doctor made the examination, but tiny beads of
perspiration on his forehead, and his face dinted with the acute,
knife-like pains, told his agony.

"I will go for Father Vaughan myself," said the doctor, in
his even, cheery tones. " Try and get a little sleep in the
meantime, my boy."

The physician found the priest on the point of going to
the hospital when he called. Father Vaughan was a tall,
ascetic-looking man of thirty-eight, quiet, direct, and energetic
in his movements, but of kindly and quick sympathies. He
had an air of breeding about him which Doctor Farnham had
not looked for in a Catholic priest.

" Some of the firemen told me of poor Joe Farrell's acci-
dent, and I was just going to see him," he said. " How badly
is he hurt, doctor ? '

40 A WOOF OF PROVIDENCE ; [Oct.,

" There is only a ghost of a chance for him," replied the
physician with decision. " He has a complicated fracture of his
bones and the shock to his system was tremendous. How he
escaped being instantly killed is the wonder. The fact that he
was not, and that he has such nerve and vitality, are the only
points in his favor. Do you know anything about him, Father
Vaughan ? '

" I know him thoroughly," the priest answered, with a quiet
smile. " Joe is one of the consolations of a priest's life. You
can almost see grace work visibly in him. I do not think he
has ever lost his baptismal innocence."

" Indeed ! ' said Doctor Farnham. He was not open to
enthusiasm on the subject of baptismal innocence, and the
" workings of grace ' did not come into his 'field. He had
trained himself to translate terms of emotional feeling into
pathological states of liver, circulation, or brain, which he re-
garded as their equivalents. Had he been obliged to give off-
hand the best preservatives of " baptismal innocence " he would
have said, on general principles : " Good digestion and plenty
of exercise."

" I confess I feel interested in him," he said to the priest,
"-he is so plucky. He had a sort of badge on him," he con-
tinued. " It had a blazing heart on it. I suppose he belongs
to some fire association, and as he will have a siege of it, in
any case, perhaps the members of the association will help
him, if they know of his condition."

"They certainly will," replied Father Vaughan, with another
slight smile at the physician's remarks. " You are right so far.
But the association whose badge you saw on Joe Farrell is
not a firemen's association exclusively. It is the Apostleship of
Prayer, or League of the Sacred Heart. One of its principal
aims is to offer reparation to the Heart of Christ, a human
heart with human feelings, and make atonement for the
neglect and insults which men heap upon it. Joe is one of the
most edifying members of this league. In fact, his simple,
strong devotion to the Sacred Heart led to this accident. It
was his day off ; but when he heard that the fire was next to
the Church of the Sacred Heart he went to it, and was one
of the most active workers. I shall be glad to tell him that the
church was saved."

" Somehow the reward for his devotion does not seem
specially encouraging," the physician said bluntly. He could
not forbear from the slight sneer, as he reflected on the broken

1896.] OR, GOD'S FlRE-LADDIE. 41

fireman. u I should have thought the Lord might have looked
after his own a little better. This young fellow was the only
fireman injured. I can't say that I admire the Lord's way of
treating his employees."

" That is probably because you don't see the reward or the
treatment either," replied the priest calmly. " You need have
no fear that the good Lord will let himself be outdone in
generosity. But the accounts are not made up until the end
of the day, and the end of the day is not until death. I can
promise you that Joe will not complain."

"No; I do not believe that he will," returned Doctor
Farnham curtly. " He seems one of those absolutely simple
souls that are completely under the subjugation of religion.
I've no doubt you realize, father, how your church appeals to
the ignorant and uneducated."

" Yes ; Cardinal Newman, for example, Manning, Orestes
Brownson, the present Pope, St. George Mivart, and many other
illiterate bigots whom you probably can recall yourself."

Father Vaughan smiled good-naturedly. He was evidently
far from being offended by the doctor's plain speaking.

" Well, of course, we view the matter from different stand-
points," replied Doctor Farnham evasively. " There is no
need, father, of letting the young fellow feel that his case is
hopeless, or nearly so. It would only worry him to know he
is in such a bad way, and would impair the small chance in
his favor."

" There, again, my dear doctor, we view the matter from
different stand-points. You may rest assured of one thing," the
priest added with some emphasis, "that nothing I shall do will
interfere with any success you might gain by your skill. It will
contribute to it. If there is no hope, positively none, of Joe
Farrell's recovery, he would be the most anxious to know it,
and I shall tell him. If a ship were suffering from a mortal
wound, you would hardly commend the captain for concealing
it from the passengers for fear it would worry them. It is his
duty as soon as the ship is doomed to tell them, that they may
have a chance for their lives by getting away in the life-boats."

" There is a little sophistry in your remarks, if you will per-
mit me to say so, Father Vaughan. The very reason why I
did not want you to tell the young fellow was because it will
hinder his chance of getting into the life-boat."

"You do not understand, my dear doctor," replied the
priest with the same smiling but calm earnestness, " that to a

42 A WOOF OF PROVIDENCE ; [Oct.,

dying Catholic the Sacraments of the church are the life-boats.
When his body is going to be swallowed up by death, his soul
must get into this life-boat to be carried to the shore of heaven.
But it is natural and kindly in you to feel thus, and I can
assure you again that all I shall do or say to Joe Farrell will
only increase the likelihood of his recovery by strengthening
what is strongest in him. Don't imagine, either," the priest
continued, "that I shall not do everything I can to help him
to get well. Such good fellows as he are needed more on
earth than they are in heaven. You cannot be more interested
in him than I am, and I will co-operate in every way possible
with you for his comfort and recovery. I should like you to
feel that I am your strongest ally."

The heroic young fireman had really enlisted Doctor Farn-
ham's sympathies to an unwonted degree, by his undaunted
and quiet courage and his perfect simplicity in bearing his
affliction. Farrell had not once expressed a regret, as he had
not once uttered any groan that could be repressed. There
was something in this finer than stoicism.

The physician's interest was much enhanced when he learned
on inquiry what a hard, cheerless lot the young fireman's
whole life had been. Born in poverty, his parents had died
when he was too young to appreciate what parents are, and he
had been reared by a woman friend of his mother, since he had
no relatives of his own to care for him. Joe had received only
the most rudimentary education, as he had been put to work
almost as soon as he was old enough to work for hire. He had
struggled along in this forlorn, barren existence, a clean, whole-
some, honest, and cheerful boy, until he was twenty. Then he
had entered the fire department. This was the beginning of
what seemed a career that promised to his sturdy fidelity pro-
motion, a certain dignity, and a comfortable maintenance.
This prospect had been blasted now by the accident which
Doctor Farnham felt would mean the fireman's death. That
worthy physician's heart was deeply stirred by the thought of
such a gaunt, bare life, and so cruel an ending of it.

" Trying to save a church when he had no need to go there
at all, and then, when he had accomplished this service to the
good Lord, to come tumbling down five stories, scapular, Sacred
Heart, and all, and plumping on the one shutter of the whole
building that was open ! All the other firemen escaped. Not
a complaint out of him ; and his first thought is to send for
his priest to help him, I suppose, sing thanks to the Lord for

1896.] OR, GOD'S FIRE-LADDIE. 43

his tender mercies toward him ! The Christian religion is cer-
tainly an effective thing sometimes, whatever one may think of
the effects."

Doctor Farnham relieved himself by this commentary on
the fireman. Whatever he thought of the religion that marked
Joe Farrell for its own, he felt that the young fellow himself
was entitled to all respect. The sunny, earnest nature of the
fire laddie, whose sweetness seemed to have thrived on priva-
tions and hardships that so often engender callousness if not
vice, made a notable impression on Doctor Farnham. He had
never had quite this emotion before. His own life had not
lacked struggle and sorrow, but he had found himself at thirty-
five with a lucrative practice and possessing a comfortable,
luxurious home.

There was a soothing pleasure to this man, whose life had
been so richly filled out, in trying to invest the poor, broken
fireman's miserable condition with what comforts he could. He
brought him books and magazines and illustrated papers, besides
supplying him with fruit and wine and jellies. He came fre-
quently to see him and stayed long by his side.

One day, when he had brought a fresh supply of dainties,
the fireman turned his honest gray eyes on him and said with
childlike simplicity: "I don't see why you are so good to me,
doctor ; you're mighty kind. I didn't think doctors were like
this. I never had one before."

" Yes, I am a wonderfully good man," said Doctor Farnham,
with playful sarcasm. " It's just as well you should think so.
It runs in the family, so I can't help it. My sister got most
of it. I am a brute compared to her. To tell the truth, Joe,
I don't do this to everybody, even when there is as much rea-
son for it, perhaps, as with you. So don't give me too much
credit. But I like your pluck. She used to do it all the time
and to everybody that suffered. How she would have liked to
have known you ! ' he uttered involuntarily, as he looked at
the wasted form and the thin, resolute face of the young fire-
man.

" Why ? ' asked the sick man, with a sense of curious
wonder.

" Well, she liked helping people that suffered. You would
have gone straight to her heart, because you take your pains
and grit your teeth and bear them, and don't get out of tem-
per over them. Then she would have been interested in you
because you got hurt doing what you did."

44 A WOOF OF PROVIDENCE ; [Oct.,

" There's no use in hollerin'," said the fireman, as if it were
merely a question of philosophy. " She liked to see plucky
things, did she ? She ought to have been a fireman, doctor."

"Yes, it was a great pity that she wasn't," replied the doc-
tor, with mock regret that brought a smile to his patient's
lips. Joe was getting to know the doctor, pretty well, and liked
him.

The next time he came to the cot where the fire-laddie
lay he found him rigid in a paroxysm of pain. Doctor Farn-
ham watched for a moment silently the features so warped
with the struggle, and wondered that through that mask of
anguish such a strange placidity found expression. Joe was
resisting the attack of pain just as he used to fight a fire, with
all his might and main. As a particularly poignant pang rent
him there was a slow, hardly perceptible movement of the lips.
Doctor Farnham bent his head and caught the words softly
breathed: "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph." The spasm passed
away. He raised the lids of his sunken eyes slowly. When
he saw the doctor he greeted him with a faint smile. His gaze
rested on him for a few moments in an absent way. Then he
said, as if prompted by his line of thought :

" What is her name, doctor ? '

"Her name?' replied Doctor Farnham, with a look of sur-
prised inquiry. "Who oh! my sister's name? Florence."

The fireman turned his eyes away. The doctor saw him
softly fashion the name with his lips. It seemed to soothe
him. " How do you know she would like me ? ' he asked,
after a moment, with unwitting wistfulness. It was a shy, art-
less note.

" Oh ! I know to a ' t ' what would please her," replied the
doctor with assurance. He was touched and gratified to see
that the thought of his sister had lodged in the mind of this
deserted fire-laddie, and was blossoming into pleasant reflec-
tions. His sister's sweet beneficence seemed to be still exer-
cised even after her death. The fireman had taken her as
tenant into his big, simple heart, so bereft of objects on which
love could dwell, and was artlessly fostering this novel and
grateful inmate.

" Does she ever come to the hospital ? ' he asked pensively,
a new light coming into his eyes.

Doctor Farnham recalled Father Vaughan's remark about
the workings of grace being almost visible in Joe Farrell. " I
don't know what the 'workings of grace' are," he thought,

1896.] OR, GOD'S FlRE-LADDIE. 45

"but you can see his thoughts and feelings almost as you do
the fish in an aquarium." He said aloud, quietly, but with a
slight repression in his voice : " She used to come regularly.
She is dead." He checked himself at the simple statement.

" Oh ! ' murmured the fireman, with an expression of sorrow
on his face. It was something of a loss to him evidently.
After a moment he said simply : " I hope I didn't hurt your
feelings, doctor."

" Oh, no ; not at all ! ' replied the physician quickly. He
would not show that it had, but the death of his sister had
taken out of Doctor Farnham's life the strongest stay and con-
solation it had ever known. Her odd association with this
young fireman whom he was so interested in stirred a strange
sweetness in him.

"Well, she's in heaven if she was so good," the sick man
rejoined after a moment more of thought. He evidently looked
on that as the most supporting consideration when one who
was dead rose in the mind. " Do you mind speaking about
her?' he asked, turning his eyes sympathetically on the doc-
tor. " I never had a sister, nor a brother. I never had no-
body but Mrs. Megargee." He smiled a little, as if he had
never realized it in quite that way before.

" My dear boy, I like to hear you talk about her," returned
Doctor Farnham emphatically. " I know just how she would
have felt toward you. If you like to talk about her, it looks
as if you felt that, and it gives me a happiness you cannot
know."

" You see the way you spoke about her made me feel as if
I would like to know her. Of course I'd have liked her if she
was your sister. You've been pretty good to me. I'll bet she
was good," he added, with the most artless conviction. " Did
she look like you, doctor ? ' He raised his gray eyes to the
doctor's clean-cut, handsome face.

"People said so. They thought we were a good deal alike,"
replied Doctor Farnham. " But she was a good deal better
than I'll ever be."

" You needn't say that," protested the young fellow loyally.
" You're good enough."

After a moment's silence he asked, with diffidence in his
manner: "You haven't got a picture of her, have you?'

"Yes; would you like me to bring it and let you see it?'

" I'd like first-rate to see it."

When Doctor Farnham got home he sat down at his desk

46 A WOOF OF PROVIDENCE ; [Oct.,

and took from a small drawer a package of photographs. There
was a set look to his face as he looked at them in turn. Then
he picked up a small miniature on ivory, in a frame of Russian
enamel. It was one that he kept always on his desk. It repre-
sented a beautiful young girl not more than seventeen. There
was a dainty sweetness in the small oval face, and the hair
seemed like a golden aureola. There was such a pure, sympa-
thetic expression in the smiling countenance. The deep blue
eyes rested with tranquil content full on the one looking at
the miniature. For some moments the doctor dwelt on the ex-
alted beauty of this face. Then he wrapped the miniature in
tissue-paper and put it carefully in his pocket, returning the
photographs to the drawer.

" I don't know what Father Vaughan would think of this,"
he said to himself. " But I know what you would want to do,
Florence, for a poor fellow whose life has been so starved in
affection. If you are where you can see and know what goes
on here now, you will not disapprove of this. We are work-
ing together still."

When he saw his fireman the next day he noticed that he
had changed for the worse. The plucky, hard fight in the
young fellow was giving way before too powerful an adversary.
But there was a marked feeling of resignation in his expres-
sion. A touch of exaltation shone [in the worn, white face,
while the unvarying clearness of the gray eyes seemed more
steadfast than ever.

"How do you feel to-day, Joe?' the doctor inquired.

" I'm weaker. I'll be off soon, I guess. Father Vaughan
gave me the Last Sacraments this morning, so I'm ready to
start any time."

" Well, don't lose heart. You are too game for that," re-
plied Doctor Farnham, with professional cheeriness.

" I sha'n't lose heart," he answered quietly. " I'm not tired
of living, but I guess it's just as well. It's better than living
a cripple." He smiled, a smile that did not seem forced at all.

" Did you bring the picture, doctor ? '

The doctor took the miniature from his pocket, unwrapped
it and gave it to the wasted fireman. He took it in his big,
brown hand and looked at it. His face, gaunt and furrowed
by the inroads of pain, softened into a brightness that the
doctor had never seen on it before. For a moment or two he
looked at it without a sign or word. A faint, sweet smile
came to his lips and his broad chest rose with a contented sigh.

1896.] OR, GOD'S FlRE-LADDIE. 47

"You didn't say she was such a beauty!' he murmured at
last. " Any one would know she was good by just lookin' at
her. She couldn't have been more than eighteen."

He continued to look at it, his face wistful and happy.
Still holding it carefully in his hand, he said : " I don't suppose
you'd like to leave this here a little while with me, would you,
doctor ? It makes me feel good to look at it. It kinder eases
and helps me. Ain't it strange she. used to like to visit hospitals
and do good to poor people when she was so young and such
a beauty? You can see she was a perfect lady. I'll be very
careful of it," he added, with a touching desire to win the favor.

" Why, yes. Keep it, my good fellow, if it will be a pleas-
ure to you. Florence would have come to see you if she were
living ; so she can't object to her picture coming, can she ? I told
you that she would have liked you. You feel that now, perhaps."

"You don't think she would care, doctor.? I'm only a fire-
man and she is such a lady, and so fine, and so like a little flower."

" I know she wouldn't care," replied Doctor Farnham, taking
out his handkerchief and blowing his nose vigorously.

The worn face lit up with pleasure. There was no mistak-
ing his serene content in the miniature. After lying for some
moments with his eyes fastened on it, and a smile half dawning
on his lips, he said to Doctor Farnham, with a new accent in
his voice : " You've been awful kind to me, doctor. I wish I
could do something to show how grateful I am. But when I go
up yonder I can do more. What shall I tell her for you, doctor?'

Dr. Farnham was startled. He had never been brought in
contact with such a practical, vivid sense of communication be-
tween the two worlds divided by the grave.

"Tell her," he said, falling into the fireman's mood, "that
you have done her brother good, and that she must be good
to you because you are my friend."

The look in the gray eyes was a limpid one as they turned
with their frank honesty upon his.

" I'll tell her," he said quietly.

" Joe," said Doctor Farnham, after a moment's pause,
" there's one little thing you might give me. I am not much
of a man for souvenirs, except those that one carries in his
heart and mind. I don't know whether I ought to ask for
this ; but when you were first brought in and I was examining
you, I found a small badge with a picture of a blazing heart
on it. If you would like to, I'd be pleased to have you give me
that. I don't know why I should have taken such a peculiar
interest in it. There's no reason for it, except that it seems so

48 A WOOF OF PROVIDENCE ; [Oct.,

identified with you as a fireman. I thought - it was a fireman's
badge. It looked like it."

"Why, I'll give it to you with pleasure," said Joe warmly.
"But, doctor, you ought to wear it. Will you do that? It
oughtn't to be left around careless. Of course I wouldn't
say that only that you don't know that it's the picture of the
Sacred Heart, and people that wear it try to make up for
those that don't care much for the Lord. I'd die happier, I
believe," continued the fireman with his wonderful simplicity,
"if I knew you were going to wear it. Will you? For my
sake? And for your sister's? She'll be gladder than I to see
you with it on. It can't do you any harm, can it?' The
wan face lighted up with a smile.

"No, Joe," replied Doctor Farnham. "Give it to me, and
I'll put it on to-night. I don't want to lose the impressions I
owe to you, and this badge will be a sort of seal to them."

Joe felt in his shirt and pulled out the badge. He gave it
to Doctor Farnham with a pleased look.

Doctor Farnham pressed his hand warmly and went away.
The whole episode had been sweetly solemn. He looked back
as he was passing out. The fireman's eyes were again riveted
on the sweet face of the miniature. When Dr. Farnham got
into the corridor he rubbed his eyes with his handkerchief
with a quick, impatient air.

The next morning when he came to the hospital they told
him Joe Farrell was dead.

"Why wasn't I sent for?' he asked sharply.

" He did not think he would die before you got here this
morning," said the nurse, " and there was nothing to be done.
He suffered no pain. He has seemed very quiet and happy
since you were here yesterday. As it was, he really died alone,
so he must have passed away very quickly and easily. Father
Vaughan gave him Communion this morning. And, doctor,
they found him dead, clasping a miniature in his hand, which
Father Vaughan says you lent him. Father Vaughan thought
you had better get it yourself from him. So we left it in his hand."

Doctor Farnham walked slowly and pensively up to the
fireman's cot. There was- a simple majesty about the dead
form of the fireman ; it looked so like peaceful sleep for his
resolute, strong nature to be so still. His large right hand lay
on his breast over a crucifix that had been placed there.
The fingers, dead and cold, were clasped on the miniature of
the beautiful young girl. Doctor Farnham had to force them
open to get it away from the tenacious hold of the dead

1896.] OR, GOD'S FIRE-LADDIE. 49

fire-laddie. A strange feeling stirred in Doctor Farnham's
breast at the thought that perhaps Joe Farrell had already
delivered the promised message to his sister. If there was a
heaven, they must both be there.

When he got home, he opened the small drawer in his
desk again and took out the bundle of photographs. He had
set the miniature back in its accustomed place on his desk.
Running through the photographs slowly, he picked out one
of a woman about fifty-four years of age. The thin hair was
brushed plainly back from the noble forehead, and in the
meek, soft eyes there was a look that told of suffering and
patience and a beautiful sympathy for those who needed human
help. A sweet, benign face. He glanced from the venerable
dignity of this grave, thoughtful woman to the dainty, girlish
grace of the face in the miniature. For two or three minutes
he gazed attentively at them.

Then he pressed the photograph reverently to his lips and mur-
mured : " Florence, if he does meet you there, you will probably
look now as you do in the miniature. He can't blame me."

Doctor Farnham was not through with Joe Farrell yet.
Doubts that he thought he had laid for ever, not perhaps
as he would, but as he had fancied that he must, rose in
his mind with a new and imperious insistence. A purer life
than his sister's he had never known. In this young fireman
he had found a spiritual kinsman of this idolized woman
who had touched him deeply. Could it be that a life so clean
and innocent, so simple and strong ; a life that had been
barren of the commonest pleasures of existence could it
be that such a life had gone out in pitiless nothingness?
If it had, was not the universe void of justice ? His sister,
despite her steadfast devotion to suffering and want, had
moved in an atmosphere of refined and comfortable surround-
ings. She had been cherished all her days by an affection
every touch of which was a sweet and supporting consolation
to her. Whatever befell beyond the grave, her days this side
of death had been the very ones she would have chosen.

But this poor fellow, without kin, whose warm, strong heart
had been so starved of all that such a heart must crave that
it had grasped with childlike yet manly earnestness the ethe-
real human love that had breathed into his soul from the min-
iature had he cast away with the most generous heroism his
young life through love of a myth ? Had he buoyantly, confid-
ingly, nobly gone forth to extinction ? perished as does a foul,

cruel hyena ?

VOL. LXIV. 4

50 A WOOF OF PROVIDENCE ; [Oct.,

Was the strange leaven of peace that had come to soothe
the stoical calm of his own being into a sweeter acquiescence
only a feeble, material exhalation, as puerile as it was sooth-
ing? Argument and reason had stripped the universe of mean-
ing and of beauty. What had it proved to him ? That life
was only a gigantic ant-hill, in which struggle and reward were
blindly apportioned. If it was his faith, his religion, that had
made Joe Farrell uneducated, impoverished fireman that he
was one of the finest-fibred men he had ever, encountered,
there must be something in it. What if that something should
be Truth, the answer to the riddle of the universe !

His intellectual pride fought hard against this warring sense
within him. Courage and reason in him should mean enduring
in his own position, no matter what its desolations. Was this
crude, untutored fireman stronger than he? Could he not sus-
tain so much lesser burdens with courage as great ?

Doctor Farnham was fair above all. He felt that, in justice
to his own ideal of rectitude, he should study thoroughly this
faith which had counted Joe Farrell as so stanch an adherent.

It was not an easy task for him. The steps that lead up-
ward to the Light are often bloody ones. But Doctor Farn-
ham took them with stern, unwavering purpose. In such case
God may try a soul ; he does not desert it.

It was not long before he could murmur, as his eye rested
on the dainty miniature which he had taken from Joe Farrell's
dead hand : " Florence, pray for me. Joe, pray for me."

But it was three months after the fire-laddie's death that
he presented himself at Father Vaughan's house. When he
was ushered into the study he said, with his wonted contained
air : " Father Vaughan, when can you receive me into the
church ? I want to be baptized."

" I can receive you at any moment if you are properly in-
structed and fully accept the faith," the priest replied. " I
have been waiting for you."

'* I have carefully studied it for three months, and I am
forced to say that I believe it with all my heart and mind. I
am glad that I do."

He was baptized that evening he had never received the
sacrament before. After this spiritual birth he spent an hour
before the altar of the Sacred Heart an hour whose meaning
and joy only he could tell.

"Joe Farrell used to slip in at odd moments and pray at
this altar," said Father Vaughan softly to the doctor as he
left him there. " Seeing you here will be a new joy to him

1896.] OR, GOD'S FlRE-LADDIE. 51

even in heaven. When you are through I wish you would
come into the house again for a short while."

When Doctor Farnham was seated there later, Father
Vaughan said to him smilingly : " Doctor, I wanted to see you
that we might dissect a Providence together. I have learned
that you had thrown up your position in the hospital, and but
for delay in your successor's arrival you would not have been
there when Joe Farrell was brought in. In other words, you
would not have seen or met him at all."

Doctor Farnham gave a sign of assent.

" The Sunday on which Joe met his injury was his day
off," continued Father Vaughan. " One of his companions was
to be married on that day in Brooklyn. He had intended go-
ing over early, and had gone some distance on his way to the
bridge when he suddenly remembered that in changing his
clothes he had forgotten to put on his scapular. He went back
to the engine-house to get it. While he was there the alarm
was sent in. Some one said that it was next to the Church of
the Sacred Heart. That was enough for Joe. He got into his
fireman's rig, dropped the wedding, went to the fire, saved the
church, and, fatally injured, was brought to the hospital, where
you, contrary to your hope and expectations, still were. I do
not think I am assuming too much in believing that this sturdy,
upright fireman was the instrument God used for your con-

version.'

I have no doubt of it myself," said Doctor Farnham with
feeling.

" Had I not felt almost certain that this would be the case,"
Father Vaughan resumed, " I would have told you before this
something which will now be a matter of surprise to you, and
I may add, of the deepest consolation. Miss Farnham died,
only a fortnight before Joe Farrell was taken to the hospital,
from a sudden stroke from which she never rallied. Doctor
Farnham, what I tell you now will be a great happiness. I
baptized your sister with my own hands a month before her
death! The last time I ever saw her she was kneeling at one
side of the rail of the altar of the Sacred Heart where you
prayed to-night, and on the other side, in one of the five
minutes he would snatch for it every now and then, was Joe
Farrell ! Neither of them, of course, knew the other. That
was on a Friday morning after she had received Communion at
my hands at the morning Mass. It was on that same day that
she was stricken with this fatal attack and died so suddenly.
You do not know the Litany of the Saints, Doctor Farnham,

52 A WOOF OF PROVIDENCE ; [Oct.,

as yet, perhaps. In it there is a prayer to be delivered from
' a sudden and unprovided death.' Your good sister's death
was sudden, not ( unprovided.' I have never known a sanctity
of life which was so deep, so simple, so winning. She and
this poor fireman, Joe Farrell, were wonderfully alike in their
soul-life and spirituality, though socially and in education
they were the antipodes of each other. Grace leavens to a
marvellous similarity, my dear doctor."

The priest paused with a quiet, thoughtful smile on his fine
face. Doctor Farnham had listened to him with deep, breath-
less attention. Now he spoke, his voice trembling a little with
emotion.

" You could not have told me anything that would have
been more sustaining, Father Vaughan. It seems so natural to
me, now that this hard, stubborn mind of mine has been
brought to the only truth of God's revelation, that my sister
should have been led to it. But there is one thing I cannot
understand. Why did my sister not tell me of this ? '

" That was pure human weakness in her," replied Father
Vaughan. " I advised her to tell you and she fully intended to
do so, later. But she dreaded that if she told you and you
refused to give the subject consideration, or were to do so,
and should fail to be converted, that her own faith would be a
barrier between you. She dreaded, with almost morbid fear,
that any strain of dissonance should come between you two.
She prayed and offered every breath of her life for your con-
version. She felt that God would not leave you out of the
fold. You see that he has not, and that the means he used to
convert you, in your pride of intellect and perfect self-con-
fidence, was an illiterate fireman, aflame with the Holy Ghost.
Truly his ways are wonderful and he uses the weak things of
this world to confound the strong," concluded Father Vaughan
with deep feeling.

" Father," said Doctor Farnham, rising, " La Place re-
marked that he could never find God at the end of his tele-
scope. Many a doctor, myself included, has dissected the
human frame and found no trace of an immortal soul. But in
this dissected Providence every seeming accident is a strand of
the Holy Ghost in the net that was to catch my soul. Strange,
that Joe Farrell should have forgotten his scapular, and that
his return for it should have brought him into this fire where
he met his death. Strange, that an unexpected delay kept me
at the hospital just that one day longer which meant my having
this poor fireman fall into my hands. Strange, that my dear

1896.] OR, GOD'S FlRE-LADDIE. 53

sister should have come into the affair as she did. Strange, and
beautiful too, was that one association of my sister and poor
Joe at the altar of the Sacred Heart, and not so strange, but
even more beautiful, that later, unknown association with his
sweet, tender, hungry heart. I can imagine what she was
asking of the Sacred Heart as she knelt there then. And only
a few feet away from her was the instrument with which God
meant to answer her prayer ! Father Vaughan, I thank you
for tracing with me the wonderful woof of this Providence of
God," said Doctor Farnham, rising and pressing the hand of
the priest with emotion. " I must go back to the altar of the
Sacred Heart to thank our Lord again for his wonderful mercy."

" You will all three of you be there this time," said Father
Vaughan smilingly. u Say a little prayer for me, for I have
some right to be in the company."

In the great, dim church Doctor Farnham's sinewy form
was bent before the altar of the Sacred Heart as motionless
as if of stone. He seemed to be living another life. Never
had he dreamed that it was possible for the soul of man to be
so overwhelmed with sweetness. He felt so near his sister and
Joe Farrell that had he heard their voices it would not have
been strange to him.

What he did hear. was God's voice; that voice whose fiat
called all that is into being. When he so wills, God speaks to
the human soul so clearly that the conviction arising in the
mind is one to which doubt or question is not even possible.
In the exalting sweetness of those moments at the altar, out
of the loving heart of Christ which Doctor Farnham was
humbly adoring, came that absolutely clear word. Like the
voice of God to most chosen souls it was a call to love
through sacrifice. When Doctor Farnham rose from his knees
it was with a "yes' in his soul, a "yes' which he felt was ir-
revocable, because not only the call but the reply was from God.

Within the next fortnight he disposed of all his earthly
possessions, except a few hundred dollars, in charities, just as
one who, feeling the touch of death, prepares to leave the
world. Then, with his sister's miniature over his heart and the
badge of the Sacred Heart which the dying fire-laddie had
given him on his breast, he left New York for ever, one of
God's poor, with the heroic serenity of a martyr in his soul, to
go and devote all that remained of life to the stricken lepers
of Molokai.

54 ARUNDEL, PAST AND PRESENT. [Oct.,

ARUNDEL, PAST AND PRESENT.

BY A. M. CLARKE.

fMONGST the Catholic laity of England his grace
the Duke of Norfolk occupies the foremost
place, not merely because of his exalted rank
(he is the first peer of the land), but also on
account of his fervent piety, his munificence, his
zeal in promoting the cause of religion and furthering every
good work. He has been described as a nobleman whose life
is devoted to laboring for the benefit of others: whatever his
grace puts his hand to, whether parliamentary, municipal, edu-
cational, religious, or charitable work, in all he is a leading
figure. In this he proves himself a worthy descendant of a
long line of illustrious ancestors. The earls of Arundel and
dukes of Norfolk were always conspicuous for loyalty and
patriotism and diplomatic talent. The personal history of the
bearers of this title forms, in fact, an integral part of the his-
tory of England. Few, if any, families have distinguished
themselves so much in the service of their country ; few have
suffered so severely for religion through confiscation of their
property and loss of their lives ; none have been more closely
connected with the political and religious life of England than
those of Fitzalan and Howard. A brief mention of some of
the more distinguished statesmen and confessors whose names
shed a lustre on the annals of their house, and an account of
the castle which for many centuries has been their proud pos-
session, may not be without interest for the reader.

EARLY ORIGIN OF THE FORTRESS.

The town of Arundel is very ancient, for it was a military
post in early British times. It is supposed to take its name
from the river on which it stands, the Arun ; but more proba-
bly it is a corruption of the British or Celtic words Arran,
a high place, and Dahl, a valley, a description which accords
well with the position of the town. Another rather fanciful
derivation is from Hirondelle, a swallow ; this bird forms the
armorial bearings of the borough. The earliest notice of Arun-
del occurs in the will of King Alfred, who bequeathed it to
his nephew, Athelm, from whom it passed to Godwin and his

1896.]

A RUN DEL, PAST AND PRESENT.

son Harold, earls of Sussex. In that document it is termed a
manor ; but there is no doubt that it was a stronghold in the
time of the Saxons, as the keep, a massive circular building
of enormous strength, bears signs of Saxon work. Before the
time of Alfred the architectural achievements of the country
were confined to ecclesiastical purposes, the houses being con-
structed of wood, while the fortifications were little more than
loose ramparts of stones piled one upon another. The castle,
castrum de Hirundel, is mentioned in the Doomsday Book, but
how long it existed previously to that survey is matter of
conjecture. It occupies a commanding position on a richly-
wooded height overlooking the town of Arundel and the vale

ARUNDEL CASTLE.

of the Arun. In former times it was impregnable, the hill on
which it stands being precipitous on one side, while on the
other it was protected by a deep fosse. The venerable keep
is the only remnant left of the castle as it existed before the
Conquest ; erected on an artificial mount, it commands the
adjacent country in every direction. The walls, ten feet thick,
were without loopholes or openings of any kind, the apart-
ments being ranged round the walls, and receiving their light
from within, v the centre being uncovered. This building, now
in ruin, comprised the principal feature of the Saxon strong-
hold ; from an artistic point of view it is the principal feature
of the castle at the present time.

56 ARUNDEL, PAST AND PRESENT. [Oct.,

A LEGENDARY GIANT WARDER.

On the ramparts of this fortress a funnel may still be ob-
served, curiously constructed for pouring molten lead and other
deadly materials on the heads of an enemy. The tower on
the north-west side is supposed to have been the dwelling of a
giant named Benis, at one time warder of the castle, who is
said to have consumed two hogsheads of beer, a whole ox, and
several loaves of bread every week. The giant's sword,
" Morglay," a ponderous weapon, is still shown at the castle,
and a mound in the park is pointed out as his grave, the
legend being that shortly before his death, standing on the
keep, he flung away the sword with all the strength of his
powerful arm, expressing the wish to be buried where it fell.
Beneath the centre of the keep is an immense subterraneous
chamber, to which a flight of stone steps gives access. It has
been imagined that this curious, dismal room served as the en-
trance to some secret passage, by which egress from the fortress
could be obtained, or as the ancient prison of the castle.
Examination of the walls has, however, led to the opinion that
it was used to contain the stores of the garrison. The dun-
geons of the castle are two caverns some twelve or fifteen feet
below the bottom of the fosse. They are entirely dark, and, as
may be supposed, exceedingly damp ; in them not only the
military captives of the earls but every civil delinquent was in
former times confined.

The keep was at? one period the habitation of a noble
species of owl, Bubo maximus, but within the last few years
they have all died off. An amusing anecdote is told of these
birds, which had been imported from North America and
were highly prized. " One of these owls, or owlesses, rejoiced
in the titled appellation of Lord Thurlow, and it happened at
a time when the celebrated chancellor of that name was ill,
and his condition was causing much political anxiety, that the
attendant upon the birds kept in qualified captivity at the
castle advanced hastily and out of breath to their noble pro-
prietor, saying : ' Please, your grace, Lord Thurlow ! ' ' Well,
rejoined the duke, ' is he better or worse ? ' 'If you please,
my lord/ the man answered, 'just laid an egg!'

ROYAL VISITORS AND CLAIMANTS.

At the Norman conquest the castle and lands of Arundel
were bestowed by William the Conqueror on his kinsman,

1896.] ARUNDEL, PAST AND PRESENT. 57

Roger de Montgomery, who commanded the Breton contin-
gent of the victorious army at the battle of Hastings, in return
for his services. They were held by him and his two sons
successively. In 1097 William Rufus on his return from Nor-
mandy landed at Arundel, and celebrated Easter within the
walls of the castle, for that monarch, wicked and unscrupulous
as he was in many of his actions, did not fail to attend the
services and observe the rules of the church. In 1102 the
Earl of Arundel and Sussex revolted against Henry I., and
the royal arms were directed against the fortress. A three
months' siege produced no effect, such was the strength of
the place ; but the earl at length capitulated, and the property
was forfeited to the king, who settled it as a dower on his
second wife, Adeliza, or Alice. It was in her possession when
the Empress Matilda landed in England to assert her right to
the throne, and the widowed Queen Adeliza received and en-
tertained in regal fashion the daughter of her late royal con
sort. King Stephen thereupon threatened to demolish the
castle unless she were given up to him ; but on Queen Adeliza
assuring him that she had afforded shelter to Matilda not as
an enemy of the crown, but as her step-daughter, Stephen
raised the siege, and the royal guest was permitted to join her
adherents at Bristol. Henry II. on his accession granted the
castle and honor of Arundel to William de Albonia, whom
Adeliza, the widow of Henry I., had married, and to his heirs
in perpetuity. In 1247, on the failure of a direct heir, the
earldom passed to John Fitzalan, son of a daughter of the
fifth earl. It remained in that family until 1580, when the last
earl of the line left an only daughter, who married John
Howard, Duke of Norfolk, and thus the estate passed into the
hands of the illustrious family which now holds it.

UNDER EXCOMMUNICATION.

For nearly five centuries Arundel enjoyed immunity from
scenes of war. But the contest which, during that period, was
almost continually waged between church and state found an
echo amid the grassy slopes and spreading beech-trees on the
bank of the Arun. In the thirteenth century Edmund, Arch-
bishop of Canterbury, claimed as an appurtenance of the
bishopric the right to hunt in the forest of Arundel. The earl
would not acknowledge this privilege ; his foresters were
ordered to seize any dogs that might be found on the grounds.
The primate declared this to be an encroachment on the im-

ARUNDEL, PAST AND PRESENT.

[Oct.,

munities of the church, and excommunicated the nobleman. The
case was referred to Rome, as the supreme authority and
court of appeal, with this result, that the sentence of the
archbishop was reversed. Still the successors of Edmund urged
the claim ; and it was finally agreed that once in the year the
archbishop, in going to and returning from his manor at
Hindon, should be allowed to hunt with six grayhounds, and
if more than one stag were taken, the prelate might select one
and give the remainder to the keeper of the forest. Mean-
while the earl was to deliver thirteen head of deer annually

THE KEEP, ARUNDEL CASTLE.

to the archbishop. While the excommunication was still in
force King Henry III. married Eleanor of Provence ; the
nuptials were followed by the coronation of the bride, and
Arundel claimed his hereditary prerogative of acting as the
monarch's cup-bearer at the ceremony. It was stated that an
excommunicate person was incompetent to discharge the office ;
and consequently Lord Warren, the earl's father-in-law, per-
formed the function, receiving, as the perquisite of office, the
gold goblet out of which the king drank. It was this mortification
that induced the earl to appeal to Rome for the removal of
the sentence.

1896.] ARUNDEL, PAST AND PRESENT. 59

RELIGION AND EDUCATION AT ARUNDEL.

In the ages of faith religion was a matter of paramount
importance ; the lord of the manor grudged no outlay in order
to provide for the spiritual needs of his family and dependents,
and to furnish the means of celebrating divine worship with
all the reverence which the ceremonial of the church demands.
The Earls of Arundel were not neglectful of this duty.
Mention is made of a Chapel of St. Martin as existing in the
venerable keep of Arundel Castle ; and it is recorded that, as
early as 1094, Roger de Montgomery granted the Benedictine
monks permission to found a house within the precincts of the
town, and bestowed on them extensive tracts of land in the
county of Sussex. During the civil wars of the fourteenth
century the greater part of the monks withdrew to the Abbey
of Seez, in Normandy, whence the foundation had originally
been made; and in 1380 Richard, Earl of Arundel, founded
on the site of the priory a college " for the furtherance of
divine worship and study," with a superior and twelve canons.
It was dedicated to the Holy Trinity. The monks inhabiting it
were bound to celebrate in turn, each day of every month, one
Mass for the souls of the Earls of Arundel deceased ; and one
Mass every fifteen days for the earl for the time being. Pro-
vision was also made that a Mass of the Blessed Virgin should
be sung daily by one of the members of the college at the
altar of the Chapel of Our Lady in the adjoining parochial
Church of St. Nicholas ; the revenue of the chaplains being
four pounds per annum. The college buildings, which adjoined
the parish church, were in the form of a quadrangle ; the
principal gateway is still remaining. It had the right of sanctu-
ary, and the ancient register of the bishops of Chichester
records that a severe penance was once passed on a constable
of the castle for having removed by force a prisoner who,
having escaped from his dungeon, had been fortunate enough to
lay hold of and cling to the sanctuary-ring of the college door.

The services performed in these chapels must have assumed
a degree of splendor to which the private oratories of Catho-
lics were little accustomed. Both the collegiate chapel and
Our Lady's chapel were of more than ordinary magnificence.
The windows, filled with stained glass, shed a dim and varied
light on the frescoed walls, the escutcheons, the oak stalls of
the monks, and the brasses on the pavement ; the carved roof
was splendidly painted and gilded, and beneath, on tombs of

60 ARUNDEL, PAST AND PRESENT. [Oct.,

marble and gold, reposed the effigies of the earls and coun-
tesses in their last long sleep. At the time of the Reformation
the figures were mutilated, the walls defaced, the stained
glass and delicate masonry wantonly destroyed.

CHARITABLE FOUNDATIONS.

To the munificent piety of the same earl Arundel was in-
debted for the Maison Dieu, the ruins of which are still to be
seen. It was established to provide shelter for twenty poor
men who, from age, sickness, or infirmity, were unable to gain
their living ; preference being given to the servants and re-
tainers of the founder and his heirs. The qualifications required
for admission were to have led a moral life, and to be able to
say the Pater, Ave, and Credo in Latin. Over these a priest
presided, with the title of master, in the capacity of superior
and chaplain. The bedesmen were clad in brown woollen gar-
ments like a monk's habit, with hoods of stuff thick and warm.
To each one useful employment, according to his strength
and skill, was assigned. At the dissolution of the monasteries
the building was dismantled and left to crumble away.

A Dominican priory was also established at Arundel shortly
after the introduction of the order into England (1221). It is
mentioned in the will of St. Richard of Chichester.

Another charitable institution was a hospital for lepers : 5.
Jacobus ad Leprosos. The prevalence of this terrible disease in
England during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries rendered
lazar-houses for the reception of those who were afflicted by
it most necessary. An Augustinian friar was chaplain to the
hospital, the endowment being forty shillings per annum.

NOBLE MARTYRS.

At the period when theological controversies distracted Eu-
rope, and the doctrines of the Reformers gained ground in
England, Henry, the then Earl of Arundel, showed himself a
staunch adherent of the ancient faith. He took a prominent
part in raising Mary the Catholic to the throne, and thus re-
gained the favor at court of which his refusal in the preceding
reign to acknowledge the royal supremacy had deprived him.
On his death, in 1554, his title and the principal part of his
property were transferred to the house of Howard, his only
child, Lady Mary Fitzalan, having married Thomas, Duke of
Norfolk. This nobleman, distinguished for his attachment to
the Queen of Scots, and his sufferings in the cause of that un-

1896.]

A RUN DEL, PAST AND PRESENT.

happy princess, was beheaded on Tower Hill by order of Queen
Elizabeth.

Philip, his son and heir, was another victim of that relent-
less monarch. Born in the reign of Queen Mary, he was bap-
tized with great pomp, in presence of the court, by the Arch-
bishop of York, a golden font, used only for christening princes
of the realm, being employed on the occasion, and King Philip
of Spain acting as sponsor. His career is erne of singular in-

terest and pathos; he is described by a contemporary as " the
idol of all who knew him, the admiration of Europe, the
object of the sympathy of the world." At an early age he
threw himself into all the amusements, the revelries, the vices of
Elizabeth's licentious court, and shone among the most honored
competitors for the favor of his sovereign ; but after five years
spent in the pursuit of pleasure he generously sacrificed inter-
est, fame, and honor to follow the voice of conscience and re-
turn to the religion of his forefathers. This was an offence
Elizabeth could not pardon ; from thenceforth he became the

62 ARUNDEL, PAST AND PRESENT. [Oct.,

object of incessant and rancorous persecution. Betrayed by
spies when about to escape to France, he was captured, cast into
prison, tried before the Star Chamber, and condemned to pay
a fine of ;io,ooo, besides imprisonment at the queen's pleasure.

For upwards of eleven years Arundel lingered in the Tower,
bearing the hardships and misery of this long incarceration in
a " foul and noisome dungeon," and the inhuman treatment he
experienced at the hands of the lieutenant of the Tower, with
most edifying patience, constancy, and cheerfulness. In vain
did he entreat to be allowed one interview with his wife and
children. " If he will go but once to the service of the Estab-
lished Church," the queen replied when his request was laid
before her, " not only shall this be granted him, but he shall
be restored to honor and estate, with as much favor as I can
grant." " To such conditions I cannot agree," the prisoner an-
swered ; " and if that be the cause for which I am to perish,
sorry I am that I have but one life to offer." Philip may
rightly be termed a martyr for the faith, though he was not
publicly executed. He died in prison, with his rosary in his
hand, and the names of Jesus and Mary on his lips.*

On his attainder in 1585 the estate of the earl had been
seized, and his property confiscated to the crown. The inven-
tory made on this occasion by the commissioners who were
appointed to make a return of the castle and the furniture of
its twenty-one rooms to the exchequer is still preserved in
the British Museum. It is a very curious document, showing
the state and manner of living of a nobleman in the reign of
Elizabeth. The walls appear to have been profusely hung with
tapestries, described as " pieces of hanging of sundry ancient
stories "; we also read of " turkey carpets, embroidered cush-
ions, low stools, tables on tressels, etc." The bed-rooms seem
to have been furnished with special magnificence.

A miserable pittance, irregularly paid, and, often not to the
full amount, was doled out to the widowed countess for the
support of her two children. The property was restored by
James I. to her son, who, although he had been educated in
the doctrines of the proscribed faith, for the sake of gaining
the king's favor conformed, at least outwardly, to the estab-
lished religion. His son followed his example.

* The walls of the cell in which he was confined in the Beauchamp Tower still bear this
inscription, carved by his hand in the stone over the fireplace :

Quanta plus afflictionis pro Christo in hoc sceculo,
Tanto plus gloria cum Christo in futuro.

1896.] A RUN DEL, PAST AND PRESENT. 63

BRITISH VANDALS.

The Castle of Arundel was of too great importance on
military grounds to escape notice in the civil wars of Charles
I.'s reign. It was besieged by the Parliamentary army during
the absence of its owner and forced to capitulate, the water
supply of the garrison being cut off by the besiegers, when it
met with the fate of all fine structures that fell into the hands
of the psalm-singing followers of Cromwell. The great hall and
the adjoining buildings were destroyed ; the soldiers were quar-
tered in the chapels, and the castle was left almost a ruin.
No attempt was made to rebuild it until 1720, when Thomas,
Duke of Norfolk, partially repaired the dilapidated apartments,
and his successor made a more complete restoration. The
keep has remained in its ruined state until the present day;
but numerous additions and alterations have been made during
this century to the castle itself, and .the old keep does not har-
monize with the modern work. In connection with some re-
cent alterations a fire occurred last autumn which occasioned
some alarm, the whole surrounding country being lit up by the
flames. The efforts of the duke's private brigade sufficed, how-
ever, to subdue the conflagration before much harm was done.

The town itself is full of antiquarian interest. The very
road from the modern railway station is an old Roman cause
way, and directly the bridge is reached the ruins of the Domini-
can priory are seen. It was built in the commencement of the
fourteenth century, and in the time of the Parliamentary wars
is described as a ruin ; a portion of the materials of which it
was built were used in reconstructing the bridge. The parish
church of St. Nicholas is, as we have seen, of great antiquity ;
the Fitzalan Chapel, screened off from the rest of the church,
is the private property of the Duke of Norfolk, and was the sub-
ject of a law-suit some few years ago, on an attempt being made
to recover this part of the church for the use of the public.
Notwithstanding its connection with the main building, it was
declared by the lord chief-justice to be a distinct edifice, and
the ownership awarded to the duke. It contains some fine
monuments of the ancestors of his grace, illustrious members
of the Fitzalan and Howard families. They have all sustained
considerable injury, and in some cases the effigies have been
removed from the tombs.

In the centre of the chapel stands the tomb of Thomas,
Earl of Arundel, son of the founder ; and of his wife Beatrix,

6 4

A RUN DEL, PAST AND PRESENT.

[Oct.,

daughter of John I., King of Portugal. It is composed entire-
ly of alabaster and blue marble ; a canopy of exquisite work-
manship covers the effigies of the earl and countess, in their
robes of state, their hands folded in the attitude of prayer ; a
horse, the cognizance of the Fitzalan family, is at their feet.
Besides this, there are five other monuments which retain more
or less of their original beauty. One of these, raised to the
memory of an Earl of Arundel who died in 1435, is a very
singular one. On the slab that forms its covering lies the
effigy of the earl, clad in plate armor, with helmet and sword ;

ST. PHILIP'S CHURCH, ARUNDEL.

beneath this, enclosed within the arches that support the slab,
a representation of the same body lies stretched upon a shroud,
emaciated to a skeleton. This figure is in the best style of the
stone-cutter's workmanship. Other members of the family are
interred in the vaults ; the floor was formerly inlaid with a
number of brass figures and inscriptions, but almost all of
these have now disappeared.

ARUNDEL AND ITS PRESENT OWNER.

The churchyard has in it some splendid old trees, and is
approached by a triple gateway. Somewhat further, on the
summit of the hill, stands the Catholic church dedicated to St.
Philip Neri, erected by the present Duke of Norfolk at the

1896.] ARUNDEL, PAST AND PRESENT. 65

cost of ;ioo,ooo, and opened in 1873. It is an imposing struc-
ture, cruciform in plan, composed of a nave ninety-seven feet
long, two aisles, and a large chancel. No just idea can be
formed of this building from photographs, as from the position
it occupies it is. impossible to place the camera at the proper
distance. Placed as it is on an eminence overlooking the town,
from an artistic stand-point it interferes with what used to be a
very picturesque view of the town and castle combined. From
many parts it appears the principal object in the landscape ;
and on account of its size and prominence is thought to have
the effect of somewhat dwarfing the castle, close to which it
stands. On one side of the eminence on which the castle
is situated is the park, comprising upwards of eleven hundred
acres, and well stocked with deer. It contains some magnifi-
cent trees, and, being open to the public, is a favorite resort
in summer for tourists, as are also the beautiful woods which
clothe the adjacent hills. In front are vast tracts of meadow-
land ; through these the Arun meanders on its way to the sea,
which forms a broad belt of azure on the horizon.

In concluding this sketch of Arundel and its eventful his-
tory we must revert to the present noble owner of the vast
property, who has done so much to make Arundel what it now
is. Enough cannot be said of the exemplary virtue and the
unostentatious piety of this worthy descendant of heroes and
confessors. Under the present government he holds the office
of postmaster-general, and it is universally acknowledged that
never were the duties of the office more ably and conscien-
tiously fulfilled. The municipality of Sheffield has found his
rule as mayor? so beneficial that he has been entreated to pro-
long his term of office for another year. It is an old custom
in the city of Sheffield that on the first Sunday after his elec-
tion the new mayor should make a public act of homage to
God by attending divine worship in his robes of office. The
duke on his acceptance of the post, deeming this a suitable
opportunity for openly asserting his religion, instead of waiving
the ceremony, announced his intention of going in state to
High Mass at St. Mary's, and invited the members of the city
council and others connected with the corporation to accom-
pany him thither. All these gentlemen were Protestants, yet a
large number availed themselves of the invitation ; each one
found in the seat reserved for him a copy of the Ordinary of
the Mass, in Latin and English, printed and elegantly bound

at the duke's expense.
VOL. LXIV. 5

66 CONSTANTINOPLE AGAINST ROME. [Oct.,

CONSTANTINOPLE AGAINST ROME.*

BY VERY REV. A. F. HEWIT, D.D.

'HE title of this pamphlet is a misnomer. There
is no such body as the Orthodox Church of the
East. There are several autonomous communions
calling themselves Orthodox, but they do not
compose one organic, ecclesiastical corporation.

Only one of these societies is under the jurisdiction of the
patriarch of Constantinople, viz.: the collection of bishoprics
in the Turkish Empire. He calls himself still Ecumenical Pa-
triarch, but he is nothing of the kind. The only title which
he claims to any kind of primacy has lapsed.

" The divine Fathers, honoring the Bishop of Rome merely
as bishop of the capital city of the realm, granted him honor-
ary presiding primacy, and regarded him simply as the first
bishop in point of order, i. e., the first among equals. But
they also assigned the same prerogatives to him of Constanti-
nople, when that city became the capital of the Roman Em-
pire ' (p. 9). His city having become the capital of an infidel
empire, and his episcopal see a mere dependency of the same,
his primacy has ipso facto lapsed. " Each particular auto-
cephalous church, both in the East and the West, was, during
the ages of the Seven Ecumenical Councils, entirely indepen-
dent and self-governing ' (p. 9).

The patriarch can only speak for himself and the thirteen
bishops who have signed his Letter. The prelates of Russia
and Greece have not commissioned him to speak for them, or
given their sanction to his pronouncement of his own au-
thority ; he has no more right to issue an Encyclical in their
name, than has the Archbishop of Baltimore to issue a Pastoral
Letter in the name of the Bishops of France and Germany.

However, his fundamental plea, that what by courtesy we
will call the Oriental Orthodox Church is the Church of the
Seven Ecumenical Councils ; is, no doubt, one which all the
churches classed under that name will accept and ratify. They

* Reply of the Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church of the East to the Encyclical of Pope
Leo XIII. on Reunion. Literally translated from the Official Greek Text. Second edition,
entirely revised. London and New York, 1896.

1896.] CONSTANTINOPLE AGAINST ROME. 67

must all stand or fall with Constantinople. And the only pos-
sible claim which Constantinople can make to a canonical and
Catholic position is founded on the assumption that it stands
on the basis of the First Seven Councils, viz., the First of
Nicsea, the First of Constantinople, Ephesus, Chalcedon, the
Second and Third of Constantinople, and the Second of Nicaea.

The first Council of Nicaea was resisted and opposed by
emperors and prelates throughout the East for fifty years. A
council held in Constantinople restored Arius. Eusebius of
Nicomedia, the chief of the Arians, surreptitiously erased his
name from the list of subscriptions to the Nicene Creed and
obtained possession of the patriarchal chair. After him, St.
Paul, the orthodox patriarch, was banished and put to death.
Macedonius and Eudoxius, Arians, succeeded him. There were
great champions of the Nicene Creed in the East, Athanasius,
Basil, the Gregories ; but it was not Constantinople, it was
Rome which protected them ; it was the Roman Church and the
popes who fought the battle of the faith and conquered. When
St. Gregory Nazianzen came to Constantinople, the orthodox
church where he preached was a mere private chapel, and it
was only by the Second Council and the Emperor Theodosius
that he was proclaimed patriarch. The special heresy con-
demned by the council, together with Arianism, was the inven-
tion of Macedonius, one of the patriarchs of the fourth cen-
tury. This council was made Ecumenical only by the appro-
bation of the Pope and the general acceptance of the West.

The Council of Ephesus was convoked to condemn Nesto-
rius, the patriarch of Constantinople, with his heresy, and was
carried through to a successful issue by Rome and Alexandria.
The Council of Chalcedon condemned the heresy of Eutyches ;
and in both these councils, the supremacy of the Roman pon-
tiff as the successor of St. Peter was emphatically proclaimed
with the universal consent of all the prelates.

The Fifth Council was an appendix of the Fourth. The
most salient fact in its history is the barbarous conduct of the
emperor toward Pope Vigilius, but there is nothing to lend
support to the pretence that the Eastern patriarchates were in-
dependent of the Roman See.

The Sixth Council condemned the Monothelite heresy.
This heresy had its origin in Constantinople and Alexandria,
from the patriarchs Sergius and Cyrus, who so far deceived
Pope Honorius that he failed to discover its true significance
and to condemn it, for which oversight he was severely cen-

68 CONSTANTINOPLE AGAINST ROME. [Oct.,

sured by subsequent Councils and Popes ; censured, that is, for
failing to exercise his supremacy by condemning the patriarchs
of Constantinople and Alexandria, and their heresy.

The Monothelite heresy ruled at Constantinople, Alexandria,
and Antioch for about sixty years, headed by Sergius and
several of his successors, and sustained with force and violence
by the emperors. Although Sergius had succeeded in hood-
winking the honest and unsuspicious Honorius, he was no
Monothelite, and his unfortunate letter to Sergius, in which he
endeavored to hush up the controversy between him and
Sophronius of Jerusalem, who detected and denounced the
heresy, was unknown in the West. Honorius having soon after
died, his successors, being better informed, condemned the
heresy and defined the faith. Martin the First called a coun-
cil in which a clear and full definition of the faith was made.
The consequence of this was a cruel persecution in which this
great Pope, the Abbot Maximus, and others suffered martyr-
dom. At last a new emperor, Constantine Pogonatus, wishing
to put an end to the troubles in the East, proposed the call-
ing of a general council. Pope Agatho caused several councils
to be held in the West, and among these, an English council
at Heathfield. The most important of these was the Lateran
Council held in Rome. Thus sustained by the entire Western
episcopate, Pope Agatho sent his legates to Constantinople to
preside over the Sixth Ecumenical Council. In his instructions
to the legates, and his letters to the emperor and the council,
he affirmed his supreme doctrinal authority in the strongest
terms, and demanded that the dogmatic decrees of the coun-
cil should be framed in accordance with the rule of faith
which he prescribed. This was done, the Monothelite heresy
was condemned and the Catholic faith defined by the Sixth
Council, which sat for the space of a year. Thus Rome
gained a complete victory over Constantinople, and its supre-
macy was confirmed.

The Seventh Council was jointly convoked by the Pope
and the Emperor to condemn the Iconoclastic heresy, which
ravaged the church of Constantinople and the Eastern Empire
for a hundred and twenty years, lasting even for a time after
the council. This heresy was the work of the emperors, with
whom some patriarchs and many bishops connived. It was
marked by the most cruel persecutions of the orthodox and
many martyrdoms. It was the Popes who opposed and re-
sisted its progress, and it was the doctrine and authority of the

1896.] CONSTANTINOPLE AGAINST ROME. 69

Roman Church which subdued and suppressed the Iconoclastic
heresy and caused the Seventh Council to be universally re-
ceived as ecumenical.

What are we to think, now, of the right of those Eastern
prelates who are in communion with the patriarch Anthimus
to call themselves the Church of the Seven Councils? The
Catholic Church receives all those councils as ecumenical, and
professes the entire, undiluted faith of the first nine centuries.
That collection of bishops, with their clergy and people, which
we will call by courtesy the Oriental Orthodox Church, should
more properly be called the Church of only Seven Councils,
because they reject all the subsequent councils, and have never
ventured to celebrate any synod by themselves claiming the
title of ecumenical.

What special right have these Orientals to call the first
seven councils the councils of their church, in distinction from
the Church of the West ? It is true that they were all cele-
brated in the East, in cities which were all finally included
within the limits of the patriarchate of Constantinople, and
three of them in that city itself. These councils were mostly
composed of Eastern bishops. I have no wish to extenuate
the merits of the saintly patriarchs and orthodox emperors of
Constantinople ; of the great Greek fathers and doctors, pre-
lates and confessors. Athanasius, Basil, the Gregories, Origen,
Sophronius, the Cyrils, Chrysostom, Tarasius, John of Damas-
cus, Ignatius, are among the brightest stars in the Catholic
firmament. Yet, it was chiefly by the Roman Church and her
pontiffs that the first seven councils, to which we must add
the eighth, were brought to a triumphant issue. The East
furnished the heresies and the heresiarchs condemned and
anathematized, and in Constantinople nineteen heretics sat in
the patriarchal chair during the course of five centuries. It
must be remembered that these are all anathematized by Con-
stantinople and all the adherents of the Greek schism, as well
as by Rome. By canonizing St. Ignatius they have practically
condemned Photius and countersigned the sentence of Rome
on all their own schismatical proceedings.

It is true that they receive all the dogmatic decrees of the
first seven councils, but they have wholly abjured their loyal
submission to the supremacy of the Holy See. They are not
in unity with the Catholic Church of the first ten centuries,
any more than the Nestorians, Monophysites, and Russian Old
Believers. The Eastern councils., fathers, and patriarchs are the

70 CONSTANTINOPLE AGAINST ROME. [Oct.,

clearest and strongest witnesses to Papal Supremacy. It is
enough here to cite the formula of Pope Hormisdas, who
reigned from 514 to 523. The formulary is as follows :

" The first step to salvation is to keep the rule of faith, and
by no means to deviate from the Constitutions of the Fathers,
because we may by no means disregard the words of our Lord
Jesus Christ, who said, ' Thou art Peter, etc.' These things
which were said are proved by their effects, for in the Apos-
tolic See the faith has always been preserved without spot.
Therefore, wishing never to be separated from this See in hope
and faith, and following in all things the Constitutions of the
Fathers, we anathematize all the heretics, etc. Wherefore, as
we said above, following in everything the Apostolic See, and
making all its decisions our own, we hope to be worthy to be
with you in that one communion which the Apostolic See sup-
ports, and in which the whole and true solidity of Christian
faith is found. And we promise also not to mention during
the Sacred Mysteries the names of those who are deprived of
the communion of the Catholic Church, that is to say, of those
who do not agree with the Apostolic See."

This formulary was subscribed by all the bishops of the
West, by three patriarchs of Constantinople, by twenty-five
hundred Eastern bishops, and by the Emperor Justinian. The
patriarch Anthimus has therefore placed himself in opposition
not only to the Roman Church, but to his own predecessors,
and to the entire Catholic Church, both Latin and Greek, of
the first nine centuries.

Nevertheless, he seems to imagine, in spite of his declaration
of the equality of all bishops, and of the fact that Russia and
Greece have disowned his authority, that he is still an ecumeni-
cal patriarch, and that his see is the Apostolic See. He ad-
dresses his letter " to the entire pious and orthodox community
of the Most Holy Apostolic and Patriarchical Throne of Con-
stantinople."

Not content with the more modest plea that this communi-
ty should be recognized as one branch of the Universal Church,
the patriarch claims that it is the One, Catholic Church, and
that all the churches of the West are in schism and heresy.
Our Anglican friends can derive no comfort from this Encycli-
cal, for they also have the " Filioque ' in their Creed, and are
not even allowed to have the sacrament of baptism. We can,
therefore, only sympathize and condole with one another, un-
der the anathema of the "Apostolic Throne.'

1896.] CONSTANTINOPLE AGAINST ROME. 71

The ecumenical patriarch does not, however, leave us en-
tirely without hope, on the condition of our repentance.

" We feel now urged by a sense of duty to address the
peoples of the West, who have been credulously led astray, and
remain torn away and afar from the one Holy, Catholic and
Apostolic Church of Christ. How great, then, is the need of
your conversion and return to the ancient and unadulterate
teaching of the church, in order to the salvation sought in
Christ, you will readily comprehend if you diligently consider
the precept which the heaven-soaring Paul addressed to the
Thessalonians : ' Therefore, brethren, stand fast, and hold the
traditions which ye have been taught, whether by word or our
epistle '; or again, what the same divine Apostle wrote to the
Galatians, saying : ' I marvel that ye are so soon removed
from him that called you into the grace of Christ, unto another
gospel : which is not another ; but there be some that trouble
you, and would pervert the gospel of Christ.' Turn, therefore,
away from such perversions of the truth of the Gospel ; ' for
they that are such, serve not our Lord Jesus Christ, but their
own belly, and by good words and fair speeches deceive the
hearts of the simple '; turn away from them, and return hence-
forth to the bosom of the one Holy, Catholic and Apostolic
Church of God, which is composed of the several holy churches
planted by the hand of God in the orthodox universe, in the
manner of luxuriant vines, and bound inseparably together in
the unity of the saving faith in Christ, and in the bond of
peace, and in the Spirit. Thus will you attain to the longed-for
salvation, and thus also shall be glorified in you the exalted
and praised name of our Lord and God Jesus Christ, who suf-
fered to save the world."

Of course, this absurd rhapsody needs no reply. The pa-
triarch has the spirit of his schismatical and heretical prede-
cessors. Every heresy has pretended to have the pure Catholic
truth, accused Catholics of being innovators, rejected the coun-
cils which condemned them, and demanded that the church
should become Arian, Nestorian, or Monophysite, as Anthimus
now demands that it should become Photian. There is no hope
of any return to unity on the part of the patriarch and his ad-
herents. He is not, however, the spokesman of any part of
the Eastern clergy, except those of the Turkish Empire. His
encyclical is not an official document which can be regarded as
representing the concurrent judgment of the bishops of Greece
and Russia, and the Slavonian nations.

72 CONSTANTINOPLE AGAINST ROME. [Oct.

I do t not believe that the bitter, Byzantine hatred of the
Roman Church which breathes in the encyclical is universal
among the Eastern Christians who are separated from her com-
munion. Father Vincenzo Vannutelli, who lived many years in
the East and has a personal knowledge of the state of things
there, writes as follows :

" What has become clear is this ; that the religion which
the dissenting Christians of those parts profess does not sub-
stantially oppose or deny the Catholic faith, but that the dif-
ference in belief is, on the whole, but a difference in words.
Moreover (and the fact is very noteworthy), the schism has
never been explicitly formulated after the public act of Union
subscribed to at the Council of Florence. Hence it may be
said, that juridically speaking, the schism does not exist. If
the Orientals have hitherto failed to accept the dogma of the
primacy of the Roman Pontiff, it was not because they failed
to recognize the necessity of union under the supreme head
represented by the successor of St. Peter. . . . Not only do
they pray daily for the union of Christendom, but the dogma
of St. Peter's Primacy is formulated most clearly and explicitly
in their liturgical traditions ; and the desirable consummation
would simply be that they should realize in fact what they
profess in words."

We must all agree with Father Vannutelli, that

"It remains for all sincere Catholics to unite with the hopes
of the Sovereign Pontiff, and to lend our help to the divine
plan of unity. The union of the East and West into one
Catholic Church would revive anew faith, hope, and charity,
and also bring us nearer to the prosperity and peace promised
to the children of God's kingdom on earth."

I desire most ardently to see the Cross again surmount
the dome of St. Sophia, and a truly orthodox successor of St.
Chrysostom and St. Ignatius seated on the patriarchal throne.

* Article on the Religious Union of the East and West. American Ecclesiastical Review,
December, 1894. The same Review contains an excellent and complete Rejoinder to the Pa-
triarch, by Father Brandi, S.J., number for January, 1896, and the five following numbers.

THE HOLY GRAIL.

(See frontispiece.}
BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

EEKEST thou the golden bowl, the heavenly

escuelle,

Held on high by angel hands, in a realm unseen ?
O'er thy sword and armor thou must keep thy

vigil well,
For three tasks confront thee will test their worth, I ween.

Look o'er all the universe : what is fairest there ?

Is it gems that deck the night, flowers of the field ?
These are wondrous beautiful, yet none of them compare

With the spotless heart of Mary, to its God revealed.

Make thy heart as pure as hers nay, start not in dismay :
By election, true, she shines ; grace gives thee the prize :

Bear in mind the Blood she gave takes all stains away ;
Not the stainless, but the contrite, gladden paradise.

Having won the foremost fight, look not for applause

From thy pride or from the world, but to God give praise.

Heeding not the morrow's needs, to thy neighbor's cause
Ev'ry aid and succor bring that can cheer his days.

Then the last and greatest work thy constancy to prove :
By the roots all earthly loves from thy bosom tear.

If with me thou wouldst abide, from ambition's snares remove ;
All thy heart is my demand, earth can have no share.

Greater is the task, say'st thou, than thy strength to do?

Brother, no ; the justest God asks only what we can.
If at last thy work appear insufficient in thy view,

Comfort thee ; the Father knows all that's possible to man.

Glory's wreaths are woven both for those who win and fall
In the last fierce escalade of the heights above :

Thy desert is measured by thine aim the most of all ;
Fuseth deed with purpose in God's crucible of love.

74 AGNES REPPLIER. [Oct.,

AGNES REPPLIER.

BY LELIA HARDIN BUGG.

HEN our mothers were little girls a pastime much
in vogue produced the u album of favorites."
This was a blank book showily bound, in which
the victim was asked to write the name of her
favorite poet, general, reigning monarch, recipe
for plum-pudding, and a variety of other useful information.
Were I asked to write the name of my favorite essayist, I could
inscribe it in a small library of albums while a doubting one
with a divided allegiance was arranging an intermittent foun-
tain-pen, and the name I should write would be AGNES REP-
PLIER.

This gifted daughter of old Philadelphia has been delight-
ing a chosen few for a decade of years and longer, but it is
only in more recent times that she has become the genial friend
of the English-reading world. Thomas Bailey Aldrich intro-
duced her to Boston in the fastidious pages of the Atlantic
Monthly, and Boston took her to its heart. A discriminating
great lady of that city of beans and fads and philosophy lured
the young writer to her drawing-room, and she became at once,
without having any say in the matter, the very especial lion of
the day.

But with all her popularity the world has not been told a
great deal of Agnes Repplier. I have just been seeking her
biography of the usual cyclopaedic kind, and even so admirable
a work as the Century Dictionary of Names failed to reward my
search. No one who knows anything about such matters need
be told that the blame or the praise for this dearth belongs
at Miss Repplier's own door. One can readily conceive of the
printed slips of flattering invitation to contribute a sketch of
herself, not exceeding hundred words, for the Distinguished
Women Series of Stylus, Penn & Co.'s American Biography in
ten volumes, and her writing a courteous little note in reply,
saying that her achievements did not entitle her to a place on
the famous roll.

It is said that even Philadelphia had not " discovered ' her
until her fame was ripe and rich, and one can imagine her

1896.] AGNES REPPLIER. 75

wicked delight in hiding eulogistic press-notices, and concealing
all the spoils of her social conquests, dinner-cards and luncheon
favors and programmes of matinee readings. The author of an
imitation erotic novel, the poet of Dobbs City, all the bewilder-
ing array of Roes and Does who have attained mediocrity in
the pages of a cyclopaedia by writing unread and unreadable
books, leading innocuous cults, or founding moribund educa-
tional institutions, may be depended upon to place their candles
on the highest available molehill ; but real genius does not
need to discover itself.

All the positive information we have of Agnes Repplier out-
side of her books information gleaned in bits from periodicals
and the " literary column' of the Sunday papers is, that she
was born in Philadelphia on the proper side of Market Street,
and still resides in the beautiful Quaker City; that she comes of
good English stock, with a liberal dash of French blood to liven
up the sober Saxon current ; that she was educated at the
Sacred Heart Convent at Torresdale and at Miss Irwin's private
school ; and that her first contributions to literature were in
THE CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE and the Philadelphia Times.

As to her looks : I have a picture before me published by
a syndicate a year or so ago, but it is rather indefinite. One
might guess from it that the original is erect and graceful in
carriage, with hands dainty and beautiful, mouth sensitive, nose
small, coloring blonde, or what the French call chataine. One
cannot tell much about the eyes in the picture ; one can only
imagine them looking with humorous appreciation through nar-
rowing lids at the foibles of a world that yet contains much
that is lovable. The age is not given ; but the picture is of a
young woman, and a woman with so sunny a soul has no age.
In the course of time, as Januaries follow Decembers, Agnes
Repplier will be, like Dr. Holmes, so many years young. Her
place in the niche of fame will be in the neighborhood of her
dear friends, Jane Austen and Charles Lamb, Matthew Arnold
and Andrew Lang, and she will have to bend in her own grace-
ful way to converse with the shade of Augustin Birrel.

As for the woman limned in her books, one might construct
a personality from certain cabalistic, subtle touches in her es-
says as the palmist reads character from the lines in one's
hands, and this reading, unhampered by a mythical past, a
vague present, and a problematic future, might be the truer of
the two tests.

And I have not yet read all of Miss Repplier's books; think

76 AGNES REPPLIER. [Oct.,

of the delight in store for me two books waiting, and the
twenty still unwritten ! Not long ago I asked for Essays in
Idleness in a big dry-goods emporium where books are sold at
a tremendous discount but the volume was "not in stock'
feeling all the while as mean as if I had gone to a bargain-
counter to get a birthday present for my dearest friend. Imagine
one's wanting nearly three hundred pages of Agnes Repplier
for ninety-nine cents ! Only the sight of a prosperous matron
in an imported gown complacently buying Charles Lamb in
cloth and silver for seventeen cents partially restored my self-
respect.

One might safely put forth the opinion that the woman who
wrote Books that have Hindered Me, Pleasure : A Heresy, and
Literary Shibboleths is an independent thinker. Scanderbeg indi-
cates the hero-worshipper, the sympathetic friend of the doer
of brave deeds. These words, penned about certain volumes
found among English Railway Fiction, reveal the loyal, warm
heart : " These Titans, discrowned and discredited ; these cap-
tives, honorable in their rags, stirred my heart with sympathy
and compassion. I wanted to gather them up and carry them
away to respectability, and the long-forgotten shelter of library
walls. But light-weight luggage precluded philanthropy, and,
steeling my reluctant soul, I left them to their fate."

Everywhere one sees the results of that clear mental vision
of a thinker who is eminently sane. No other writer can be de-
pended upon so confidently to prick the bubble of a popular
craze, or to show the innate absurdity of the undermining theo-
ries of life and society which pervade, like a poisoned leaven,
so many of the novels of the day.

And few can discriminate as does Agnes Repplier between
the good and the bad in a book ; can select so unerringly the
real gold from a lot of mental dross, and see the humor, the
tragic heights where nature in sorrow's crucible reveals itself,
the agony and the rapture, the limitations and the failures of
life, and not be affected by the false or the vicious which may
come from the same erring yet gifted hand.

We have too many who praise or condemn in lumps, so to
speak ; rigid keepers of an index of their own, who put George
Eliot and the aberrant author of The Heavenly Twins, Herbert
Spencer, Anne Hutchinson, Ingersoll, and Madame Blavatsky
in one malodorous heap censure as indiscriminate as a Janu-
ary clearing sale of Christmas wares. An eminent clergyman
once told me that The Mill on the Floss is idiotic. I am sure

1896.] AGNES REPPLIER. 77

he never intended to have his remark repeated, and condemna-
tion so sweeping made me question my own taste and judg-
ment until Agnes Repplier in a few swift strokes revealed new
charms in Maggie Tulliver and restored a pleasing confidence
in both.

Can any one read the paper on " Sympathy ' and not be
the kinder in judgment, the more catholic in appreciation ?

" On the other hand, it is never worth while to assert that
genius repeals the decalogue. We cannot believe, with M.
Waliszewski, that because Catherine of Russia was a great ruler
she was, even in the smallest degree, privileged to be an im-
moral woman, to give ' free course to her senses imperially.'
The same commandment binds with equal rigor both empress
and costermonger. But it is the greatness of Catherine, not
her immorality, which concerns us deeply. It is the greatness
of Marlborough, of Richelieu, and of Sir Robert Walpole which
we do well to consider, and not their shortcomings, though
from the tone assumed too often by their critics and historians
one would imagine that duplicity, ambition, and cynicism were
the only attributes these men possessed ; that they stood for
their vices alone. One would . imagine also that the same
sins were quite unfamiliar in humble life, and had never been
practised on a petty scale by lawyers and journalists and bank
clerks. . . . It is possible, then, to overdo moral criticism,
and to cheat ourselves out of both pleasure and profit by nar-
rowing our sympathies, and by applying modern or national
standards to men of other ages and of another race. . . . As
for the popular criticism which fastens on a feature and calls
it a man, nothing can be easier or more delusive. . . . Marl-
borough may have been as false as Judas and as ambitious as
Lucifer, but he was also the greatest of English-speaking gen-
erals, and England owes him something better than picturesque
invectives."

Women who have lost their bearings in an heroic effort to
keep up with that will-o'-the-wisp, the Woman Question, might
read with much profit to themselves, and peace to their mascu-
line relatives, Aut Ccesar aut Nihil and A Curious Contention.

" Why should I be asked to take part in a very animated
discussion on ' What constitutes the success of Woman ? ' Wo-
man succeeds just as man succeeds, through force of character.
. . . Patchwork quilts in fifteen thousand pieces, paper flow-
ers, nicely stitched aprons, and badly painted memorandum
books, do not properly represent the attitude or the ability of

78 AGNES REPPLIER. [Oct.,

women. . x . . And surely, the first and most needful lesson
for them to acquire is to take themselves and their work with
simplicity, and to be a little less self-conscious and a little
more sincere. In all walks of life, in all kinds of labor, this
is the beginning of excellence, and proficiency follows in its
wake. . . ."

" Mr. Arnold has ventured to say that the best spiritual
fruit of culture is to keep man from a self-satisfaction which is
retarding and vulgarizing, yet no one recognized more clearly
than he the ungracious nature of the task. What people really
like to be told is, that they are doing all things well, and have
nothing to learn from anybody. . . . This is the tone of
all the nice little papers about woman's progress and woman's
work and woman's influence and woman's recent successes in
literature, science, and art. * I gain nothing by being with such
as myself,' sighed Charles Lamb, with noble discontent. 'We
encourage one another in mediocrity.' This is what we women
are doing with such apparent satisfaction ; we are encouraging
one another in mediocrity. We are putting up easy standards
of our own in place of the best standards of men. We are
sating our vanity with small and ignoble triumphs, instead of
struggling on defeated, routed, but unconquered still, with
hopes high set upon the dazzling mountain-tops which we may
never reach ' (Aut Casar aut Nihil).

11 Life is not easy to understand, but it seems tolerably
clear that the two sexes were put upon the world to exist har-
moniously together, and to do, each of them, a share of the
world's work. . . . It is not convincing to hear that ' man
has shrunk to his real proportions in our estimation,' because
we are still in the dark as to what these proportions are. It
is doubtless true that he is ' imperfect from the woman's point
of view,' and imperfect, let us conclude, from his own ; but
whether we have attained that sure superiority which will en-
able us to work out our salvation is at least a matter for
dispute. . . .

"And, indeed, though it be true that in civilized communi-
ties a larger proportion of women than of men live lives of
cleanliness and self-restraint, yet it should be remembered that
the great leaders of spiritual thought, the great reformers of
minds or morals, have invariably been men. All that is best
in word and example, all that is upholding, stimulating, purify-
ing, and strenuous, has been the gift of these faltering creatures
whom we are now invited to take in hand, and conduct with

1896.] AGNES REP FLIER. 79

1 tenderness and pity ' on their paths. It might also be worth
while to remind ourselves occasionally that although we women
may be destined to do the work of the future, men have done
the work of the past, and have struggled, not altogether in vain,
for the physical and intellectual welfare of the world."

When we make our own her irresistible Plea for Humor, and
follow her victorious quest for " simple delight ' in fiction, we
feel that we are for ever her debtors. Nor do our obligations
cease when, wearing Agnes Repplier's colors, we have wrested
from the Realists, and the Degenerates, and the novelists with
a formidable purpose, our American right to be happy in books
in our own frivolous way, so long as our happiness is innocent
even if not oppressively wise ; those of us who have cut strings
rather than untie them, valuing string by the penny and time
by the pound ; discarded half-worn frocks simply because we
were tired of them ; have been wildly extravagant in the way
of pins, and have not lived up to our theories as to the treatment
of gloves what balm to our souls is Esoteric Economy! How
genial our smiles at " the great, and wise, and mean Duke of
Marlborough, . . . who did not disdain to bend his mighty
mind to the contemplation of his candle-ends. . . . Who
understood so well as he how to spend a thousand pounds and
save a shilling ? ' And our smiles are more frequent at his im-
perious and beautiful duchess, who wrangled over the price of
the lime that was to go into the stately triumphal arch at Blen-
heim, and who commissioned the English ambassador in Paris
-the poor man knew better than to disregard the all-powerful
Sarah's commission ! to buy her a dressing-gown, giving pages
of directions as to price and color. Fancy one of our ambassa-
dors wrestling with the mighty problem involved for the mas-
culine mind in brocades with silk linings to match ! It seems
a little unkind even to a duchess who might be supposed not
to mind the opinion of commoner fyolk that a letter of hers
should be quoted over a century after she has laid aside the
strawberry-leaves, as she thus puts herself on dubious record :
she will wait for the things until " no one need be troubled
with the custom-house people." " This," Miss Repplier adds,
"is a euphuism worthy of an American conscience." What flesh-
and-blood people seem these great ones of other times when this
genial pen lays bare their " esoteric economies " ! Queen Eliza-
beth calmly appropriating Raleigh's gorgeous waistcoat ; King
John quartering his retinue for a fortnight on the monks of St.
Edmundsbury, and on the morning of his departure when his

8o AGNES REPPLIER. [Oct.,

pious entertainers were doubtless o'er ready to " speed the part-
ing guest' -presenting a silk cloak for St. Edmund's shrine,
which cloak quintessence of meanness ! was promptly " bor-
rowed back by one of the royal train and the monks beheld it
no more." And what a real little boy is the sturdy lad who re-
fused to kneel and kiss Queen Charlotte's hand, not from any pre-
cocious sentiment of democracy, but to avoid soiling his new
breeches by contact with the grass. George I. and his expense-
book how little dreamed this thrifty, prosaic monarch that an
Agnes Repplier would ever scan his household accounts : " Think
of it : twenty-six people to cook and only two to wash ! But
one half-penny-worth of bread to this intolerable deal of sack !
. . . Yet the chances are that of all the officials in that snug,
jolly, dirty, lively Hanoverian court those two washerwomen
alone led comparatively idle lives. When balanced with the
arduous labors of the seven officers of the cellar, I am convinced
their position was a sinecure."

Of a cartoon representing Bismarck as a discharged pilot,
the young emperor in sole charge of the ship and leering at
his old pilot, it is the philosopher that speaks. It " is in itself
an epitome of history, a realization of those brief, bitter mo-
ments which mark the turning-point of a nation, and stand for
the satire of success." The satire of success !

But for a crystallized gem of satire, a veritable jewel of wit
to be embedded for ever in the amber of a nation's classics,
some three lines in Literary Shibboleths stand unmatched.
Mr. Frederick Harrison is their reason for being, or, rather,
some words of his which he would probably like to see sup-
pressed. He is railing against " the incorrigible habit of reading
little books," seeking desultory information from the rank and
file of literature, and declares that " systematic reading is hard-
ly possible for women./' This is the pebble that our feminine
David flings: "I do not*know why systematic reading should
be hardly possible for women, any more than I see what
is to become of Mr. Harrison if we are to give up little
books."

It is hard to quote from Agnes Repplier because everything
she says is so eminently quotable. Here is an epitome of. a
sermon on bad books : " There is no room for self-conscious
realism picking its little steps along ; nor for socialistic dramas
hot with sin ; nor ethical problems disguised as stories ; nor
heroes of ' complex psychological interest,' whatever that may
mean ; nor inarticulate verse ; nor angry, anarchical reformers ;

1896.] AGNES REPP LIE R. 81

nor dismal records of vice and disease parading in the covers
of a novel."

And how quick is Miss Repplier to see an inconsistency :
" While Clarissa Harlowe is writing on some tiny scraps of
hidden paper letters which fill a dozen printed pages."

Now it is the poet that speaks : " Keats belongs to dreamier
moods, when, as we read, the music of his words, the keen,
creative magic of his style, lure us away from earth. We leave
the darkness of night and the grayness of morning. We cease
thinking and are content to feel. It is an elfin storm we hear
beating against the casement ; it is the foam of fairy seas that
wash our shores."

Here is a definition not given in any of the standard
dictionaries, but which we all recognize as the true one: " A
puppy is but a dog plus high spirits and minus common

sense.'

Under what happy star did one little puss come into the
world that it should be singled out from the nebulous region
of kittendom, and given a place among the immortals? Only
one is puzzled to discover why felines so charming should be
named after humans so repulsive. " Agrippina ' and " Claudius
Nero ' are not names sweet to the lips of historians. There
can be but one explanation, and that is that the sympathetic
biographer has attributed a deal of mendacity, intentional or
not, to the historians, and regards their lurid chronicles of
Nero as campaign tales from the opposition.

None other but a woman not too methodical to be feminine
would have yielded to Agrippina : " After a few weak re-
monstrances, the futility of which I too fully understood, her
persistence carried the day. I removed my clothing from the
closet, spread a shawl upon the floor, had the door taken from
its hinges, and resigned myself, for the first time in my life,
to the daily and hourly companionship of an infant."

The mother-cat herself is deemed worthy of many trenchant
touches: "Agrippina had always been a cat of manifold re-
serves. . . . Even in moments of self-forgetfulness and
mirth her recreations resembled those of the little Spanish
Infanta, who, not being permitted to play with her inferiors,
and having no equals, diverted herself as best she could with
sedate and solitary sport. . . . Claudius Nero, on the con-
trary, thirsted for applause. Affable, debonair, and democratic
to the core, the caresses and commendation of a chance visitor
or of a housemaid were as valuable to him as were my own."
VOL. LXIV. 6

82 AGNES REPPLIER. [Oct.,

Victims of that pompous dogmatism with which certain re-
formers the word should be spelled with a d are trying to
deluge the world should read In Behalf of Parents, and take
heart. A child who had removed the pendulums from three
family clocks in his passion for analysis, so commended in the
text-books for mothers, is presented deliciously: "It is hard to
attune our minds to a correct appreciation of such incidents
when the clocks belong to us and the child doesn't." What a
summing up of life's philosophy " when the clocks belong to
us, and the child doesn't '

Apropos of a reformer's theory that one should not say dont
to children : " But this protest reminds me of a little girl who,
being told by her father that she mustn't say I won't , innocently
inquired: 'But, papa, what am I to say when I mean / wont?

Ah ! if all the idiotic mothers in the world could be
assembled in a Texas prairie nothing smaller could contain
half of them and have this clever Philadelphian sweetly show
them just what fools they are !

So well does Agnes Repplier know human nature, so
sympathetically does she know it, that were it not for the
terrible fear that the essayist would be lost in the novelist,
one could wish for a story from her facile pen. One can
imagine the characters she would like : Lily Curtis in The
Anglomaniacs would be one of her favorites, the sweetness and
honesty and loyalty of the girl appealing to her irresistibly.
Grace Amory would be among her friends, and Grace's clever
lawyer husband.

One can fancy her smile in passing at Mrs. Curtis, but Mrs.
Vernon, in Sweet Bells out of Time, would delight her not as
a friend, oh, no ! but as a curiosity dare I say as a freak in
the humanities? The consummate cleverness which took an
untrained, ignorant girl from Judd's dining-room into the pene-
tralia of English aristocracy, and put a coronet on her very
level head, would be worthy of intelligent curiosity on the part
of a woman who openly admires genius. It is safe to say that
Miss Repplier would not find it convenient to leave cards on
the second Mrs. Irving who makes the woes of a very womanly
Bachelor Maid, and it is to be feared that she would discover
a previous engagement when besieged with Mrs. Romaine's
invitations. In foreign society Corona, the queenly Duchess
d'Astradente, occurs high on the list of her favorites, although
it may be guessed that Marie Stuart and Flora Mclvor, and
their kinswomen in heart and spirit, would rank easily first.

1896.]

AGNES REPPLIER.

83-

One may hazard a conviction that none of Mrs. Burnett's
women would be sought after. One can imagine Miss Repplier
sending Bertha Amory, did she get to know her sufficiently
well, a Christmas gift of The Following of Christ, and breath-
ing a right hearty prayer that its words of inspiration might
do her some good. And Marie Bashkirtseff but poor Marie,
genius though she was, would not have understood the clever,
clear-sighted American, or realized how accurately her own
limitations had been measured.

Agnes Repplier is young, very young if one remembers
her high place in literature, and one cannot tell what direction
her genius may take. We have an example at our door of a
man's leaping into the front rank among the great novelists,
just in a night, so to speak, after being an artist for a life-time.
But whatever her work, we who love her warmly hope that it
will be in pleasant paths : that she will never have to live with
people who are crude without being picturesque, or too exalted
to be brilliant ; that her hostess at a luncheon for women will not
place her next to a matron whose literary tastes go no further
than Watson's Annals and the morning paper ; that the roses in
that little back garden of which we get a glimpse will ever
bloom luxuriously, and that a successor to Claudius Nero will
gambol joyously amid their fragrance ; and that literary aspir-
ants will not write to her asking how to become essayists in
ten lessons. The larger gifts of life are hers love, appreciation,
friends, home, the delights of travel, books, pictures, music,
and the rich heritage of faith and a noble soul.

84 MARIANO ARMELLINI: DE Rossi's SUCCESSOR. [Oct. y

MARIANO ARMELLINI: DE ROSSI'S SUCCESSOR.

BY BONA F. BRODERICK.

[ HEN young De Rossi began his career as an
archaeologist, nearly fifty years ago, men smiled
and said he was a dreamer. The first encourage-
ment he received was from the kind-hearted
Pius IX., and even this was granted more in
the spirit of indulging the young man's noble enthusiasm than
in the hope of his attaining any practical results. But De
Rossi pursued his investigations, convinced that his inspirations
were not misleading, and after a lapse of a few years the most
renowned universities in Europe considered themselves honored
in conferring their academic degrees upon him whom the world
once regarded with good-natured pity. When, at the age of
seventy-one years, the pen dropped from his paralyzed right
hand, the left took it up and continued the scarcely interrupted
work. Sinking to rest two years later, he left to the world a
legacy of erudition in a long series of volumes that seem rather
the work of a nation than of a single individual. The founder
of the Science of Christian archaeology and the new school of
historical criticism was dead, but his spirit lived on. A school
of young disciples had grown up about him whom they re-
verently called : // gran maestro. To these the scientific world
looked for a continuation of De Rossi's work ; the hopes enter-
tained of the disciples compensated for the loss of the master.
The light of this little band was Professor Mariano Armellini.
In him all recognized the successor of De Rossi, in him were
centred the fondest hopes. His sudden death on the 24th of
last February cast a pall of grief over thousands of hearts and
caused a sigh of regret wherever the science of Christian
archaeology is cultivated.

A NOTABLE ANCESTRY.

Mariano Armellini was born in 1852 of an illustrious Roman
family. As far back as the time of Leo X. a member of this
family, Cardinal Armellini, was held in the highest esteem by
that learned pontiff, and as camerlingo presided over two
consistories that of 1522, which selected Adrian VI., and that

1896.] MARIANO ARMELLINI : DE Rossf s SUCCESSOR. 85

of 1523, when Clement VII. was chosen. From his mother's
side, too, the professor inherited his devotion to the Holy See.
It was his maternal grandfather, at the time proprietor of a
printing establishment in Rome, who printed, and performed the
famous strategy of posting, the bulls of excommunication issued

PROF. CAV. MARIANO ARMELLINI, ROME.

by Pius VII. against the haughty Napoleon. Titus Armellini,
the father of Mariano, was an architect of considerable distinc-
tion in Rome, and also a scholar of note, who for a long period
filled the chair of history in the Roman University. At the
early age of six years the child Mariano began to show the

86 MARIANO ARMELLINI : DE Rossfs SUCCESSOR. [Oct.

bent of ingenuity he had manifested from earliest infancy.
Surrounding Rome in a vast network of underground galleries
and chambers lie the catacombs of the early Christians. Here
the bodies of the saints and martyrs of the Apostolic Church
were laid to rest ; here the disciples of St. Peter and St. Paul
came to venerate the relics of those brave men and women
who had died for their belief in Christ ; here were the holy
mysteries celebrated above the martyrs' tombs ; here were the
psalms chanted and the hymns sung; here these faithful wor-
shippers in turn found sepulture, sealing their faith with the
martyr's crown ; here generation after generation of Christians
glorified God in life, and rested as martyrs, or beside martyrs,
in death. When the grace and favor of Constantine called the
church forth from the underground chapels of the catacombs,
and imperial munificence and private generosity planted the
cross triumphant on the summit of grand basilicas, the glory of
the church still remained beneath the ground ; for those echo-
in,g vaults and rudely frescoed chambers were holy shrines.
Blood shed for Christ moistened that earth ; bodies, mangled
till the very soul was wrenched from them rather than a denial
of the true God, reposed behind those rudely-carved slabs.

A YOUTHFUL ARCHAEOLOGIST.

Towards the end of the eighth century the barbarians,
who descended into the catacombs for the purpose of profana-
tion, had to be content with defacing the shrines. As the
shades of ignorance fast falling enveloped the outside world,
Science withdrew into the cloister and there trimmed her lamp
during the dark night that followed. No more now the psalm
of the cleric or the hymn of the pilgrim awoke the echoes in
the crypts. Time completed the ruin that the Vandal's club
and the Lombard's spear had begun and carried far. Terror
and gloom brooded above the abandoned shrines. Perhaps it
was the glad awakening from this long sleep of desolation and
neglect, the awakening that young De Rossi was bringing to the
catacombs at the time of Mariano Armellini's birth, that first
caught the child's fancy. More likely it was the spirit of God
inspiring him that so early fixed the love of Mariano upon these
holy places ; but certain it is, that from the age of six years
the child's heart began to be inspired with a tender devotion
towards these ruined and neglected shrines, coupled with a
zeal to restore them to the veneration of the faithful.. Thus,
while his playmates drew on their slates and exercise-books

1896.] MARIANO ARMELLINI : DE Rossfs SUCCESSOR. 87

those aimless caricatures of men and horses and birds so char-
acteristic of childhood, the gentle, earnest Mariano amused
himself by reproducing the symbols and inscriptions of the cata-
combs. This love of the martyrs' shrines grew with his growth,
so that it was soon evident that his life was to be devoted to
their exploration, restoration, and illustration. With this inten-
tion he began and finished his education. In his intellect he
cleared a broad lawn of classical culture Latin, Greek, Italian,
French ; into this he cast deep the foundations of philosophy,
above which he reared high the superstructure of theology.
Whether he spent days and nights in the catacombs, or tra-
versed, with critical eye, the broad centuries of history, it was
always with the mind to bring back some treasure to adorn
this sacred temple of theological learning. Nor was it his in-
tellect or his senses alone that he trained, but his heart also.
He not only knew the truths of our holy religion ; he felt them
also. He won the degree of doctor of divinity with such hon-
ors at the Gregorian University that such men as Cardinal
Mazzella and Father Ballerini were proud to claim him as their
pupil. As he stands before us at the age of twenty-eight, a
newly created doctor of divinity and a prodigy of historic,
patristic, and archaeological learning, one might think that his
life had thus far been spent in the quiet enjoyment of his
studies, far removed from the distractions and cares of the
world. Such, however, was not the case. He had already
done a hero's part. Ten years earlier his good and learned
father died from a stroke of apoplexy. Thus Mariano was left
at the age of eighteen years with the care of a family of
eleven. His mother soon followed her beloved consort. Mari-
ano closed her eyes in peace and laid her body to rest. Then
a brother became a Passionist monk, and is now a priest of
that order in Bulgaria. One after another his seven little sis-
ters, as they grew up and finished their education, left the
happy home that Mariano's care had provided for them, and
went to serve the Lord by lives of perfection as professed
nuns in various convents. At last he was left alone with the
baby of the family, his brother Camillo. Mariano had culti-
vated his brother's talent for mathematics till he became a
civil engineer of great promise. Then God called him. For
some time he had determined to join the Society of Jesus.
One day last December the professor returned from his lecture
at the Propaganda to find his loved Camillo gone to enter
the Jesuit novitiate at Castel Gandolfo. He had taken this way

MARIANO ARMELLINI : DE Rossfs SUCCESSOR. [Oct.,

of avoiding a sad parting scene between two hearts that loved
each other so well. There were tears in the poor professor's
eyes as he called me aside, after class the next day, and asked
me to pray that the shock might not injure his health. What
a noble heart it must have been that prompted Mariano not
only to spend his patrimony, but to labor himself to educate
his brothers and sisters for God alone ! He was not to have
even the joy of their company.

THE TEACHER IN THE CATACOMBS.

Mariano Armellini's youth gave no promise that his public
life did not fulfil. His zeal in exploring the catacombs was un-
tiring. It is about three years ago that I was one day enter-
ing in his company the catacomb of Priscilla, on the Via Sala-
ria ; turning to me he said : " When I was younger I remember
to have come here one morning to copy inscriptions, and be-
coming absorbed in my work I did not notice the flight of
time. When I came out again it was the afternoon of next
day." Yes, he had actually spent more than thirty consecutive
hours here without rest or food ! Such zeal did not remain un-
rewarded, for we are indebted to him for several important dis-
coveries in the catacombs. As long as Christian archaeology is
known the name of Mariano Armellini will awaken a grateful
thrill in the student's breast, because of his connection with
the discovery of the crypt of St. Emerentiana, the foster-sister
of the gentle St. Agnes. Scarcely a week passed that Professor
Armellini did not deliver several public lectures on his beloved
catacombs. Whether these were given on the feast of some
saint beside his tomb in the bowels of the earth, or before
some one or other of the learned societies of which he was a
member, or before the Working-men's Society of which he was
the general secretary, they were always suited to the occasion,
and always listened to with delight by the crowds that flocked
to hear him. Yet his delight was to impart his knowledge to
the little ones of Christ, to the poor and to the young. He
was a true apostle, with all an apostle's love for the spread of
Christian truth and morality. Like Peter, gold and silver he
had none, but what he had he gave freely his love of Christ
and his knowledge of his church. In the name of Jesus of
Nazareth he commanded the weak in knowledge and faith
to arise and walk; and teaching them, they received strength
and walked with him into the temple of understanding and
charity, praising God themselves and all the people who saw

1896.] MARIANO ARMELLINI : DE Rossf s SUCCESSOR. 89

them. To give but one illustration : during the four months of
the year that he spent in the Campagna it was his delight to
gather together the children of the peasantry that surrounded
his little vineyard, and forming them into regular classes, hav-
ing regular days of meeting, he taught them Christian doctrine.

The same zeal for the love of God shines forth in all his
writings. The thing that always surprised me was how a man
who did so much other work, and who was always at the beck
and disposal of his friends, could find time and quiet to write
so many and such books. Great and small they number over
twenty. Besides these he published for nearly twenty years
Arme Hints Monthly Chronicle of Archeology and History. His
Descriptions of the Catacomb of St. Agnes, The Ancient Ceme-
teries of Rome and Italy, Popular Lessons on Christian Archeology,
The Antiquity of the Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, Life
of St. Francesca Romana, Civil Government of Rome under Leo
X., Visit to the Seven Churches of Rome, The Churches of Rome
from their Origin to the Nineteenth Century, are all valuable
volumes attesting remarkable qualities of head and heart in
their writer. Our Holy Father Leo XIII. acknowledged the
last named by an autograph letter to its author, and by en-
rolling him among the Knights of the Order of St. Gregory the
Great. Death overtook Armellini with three manuscripts almost
ready for the printer. One of these, a work of great value, in
three volumes, contains all the professor's lectures on Christian
art, epigraphy, liturgy, and archaeology. Another smaller but
scarcely less valuable work treats of the dogmatic importance
of the paintings in the catacombs (illustrated). In all his writ-
ings, historical as well as ascetical and archaeological, one finds
the characteristics of the ancient Fathers of the church.

There is not an old student of Professor Armellini in any
angle of America who will not feel pleasant recollections rush-
ing back upon him as he reads even this feeble portrayal of a
teacher held dear by all. You, his old students, remember the
charm about his manner, to which succumbed alike the grave
and the gay. You have often seen him in the Prefettura, sur-
rounded by all his fellow-professors. Where professors of Holy
Scripture, of dogmatic and moral theology, of ecclesiastical his-
tory, of canon law, of philosophy, of languages, were gathered
together, there stood Mariano in their midst like the Christ
Child among the Doctors, the wonder and delight of all. Per-
haps some of you were among his pupils desirous of asking
him some question as he passed from the friendly gathering of

90 MARIANO ARMELLINI : DE Rossi's SUCCESSOR. [Oct.,

the Prefettura to his class-room. You are, then, another wit-
ness of how kindly was his greeting, how ready and satisfactory
his answer. Which of us will not remember with pleasure to
our dying day the humble, pious way he entered the lecture
hall and said the prayer ? that smile, that bow from side to side,
that motion to be seated ? With a master's skill and by simple
words he transported us as living witnesses of the foundation
and growth of Christianity and of the church. Every chord of
the human heart was struck, and the emotion elicited directed
to the honor of God. Was it a scene of martyrdom ? Before
us stood the Nero or the Domitian whose wicked edict had
caused the persecution. Indignation and loathing fill the soul
at sight. A few words more, and we see the Christian seized
and dragged before the judge. There sits the prefect in all
the majesty of the Roman law ; the grim soldiers, the instru-
ments of torture, the smoking altar all enter into the picture.
Shame and horror now prevail. But look ! listen ! there is the
martyr ! To-day it is the calm dignity of the youthful deacon
Lawrence that sends the blood of admiration and triumph
bounding through the veins ; yesterday it was the noble Ce-
cilia's virtues ; the day before the purity and courage of the
gentle Agnes. Which of us was so dead to noble aspirations
that as we gazed on those pictures, drawn with such .clearness
of outline, warmth of color, and beauty of motion, we did not
feel the martyr's spirit within us, imp'elling us at God's bidding
to follow Peter or Paul or Lawrence or Cecilia or Agnes or
Sebastian or Felicitas to suffering and death ? Thus it was
that we saw all the early struggles of the church, the provi-
dence of God ruling over its growth and its triumph. We de-
scended with the professor into the catacombs ; saw them in
their inception, in their development, in their glory, in their
ruin, in their neglect, in their restoration. He explained to
us the dogmas of our faith painted upon their walls, chiseled
upon their graves. He taught us how the early Christians
loved their brethren while living, how they honored them in
their death and burial, how they celebrated their liturgy, what
vestments the priests and others wore. The soft, sweet accents
of his native Italian flowed from his lips with all the rhythm
and beauty of a poem. The more majestic Latin was equally
at his command, and apt quotations from the Fathers were al-
ways given with scarcely a glance at his notes. Hundreds of
Greek and Latin inscriptions were likewise quoted from mem-
ory. His hour's lecture seemed to pass only too quickly ; but

1896.] MARIANO ARMELLINI : DE Rossi's SUCCESSOR. 91

his obedience commanded enthusiasm. At the first sound of
the bell he would stop, say the prayer with the same devotion
as at the beginning of class, and go down the aisle with the
same bow and smile that marked his entrance. Who does
not remember with feelings of gratitude Professor Armellini's
quiet thoughtfulness on the board of examiners ? Not only
was he kind himself, but he would plead with his fellow-pro-
fessors when they were inclined to administer justice untem-
pered with mercy.

AN AFFECTING INCIDENT.

And now that his form lies still and cold in death, there
comes rushing back the memory of the many deeds of loving
kindness that had passed between us ; how he had spent hour
after hour and day after day showing myself and my friends
through the dark, silent, and solemn catacombs, and about all
the monuments of ancient Rome. How often that voice, now
hushed in death, had sent a thrill of sublimity through my
frame, as the flickering torches cast distorted shadows into the
very graves and athwart the dust of martyrs. Now I remem-
ber the inspiration of that moment when, standing upon the
very spot where it took place, he so feelingly read, from
the ninth book of the Confessions, that sublime and pathetic
conversation between St. Augustine and his mother, Monica, on
the eve of her death in Ostia. I thought of how often he had
visited me in my little room and what a kind interest he showed
in me : how, when I was ill, he called nearly every day to in-
quire from the porter how I was ; how, when he was sick and
I inquired for him, he insisted that I should be shown to his
bedside. And then rose to my mind a little incident which I
reproduce to show how child-like was his manner and heart.
Two years ago he was going with myself and a party of other
students to visit the catacombs of Sts. Peter and Marcellinus
on the Labican Road. Rev. Dr. Farrelly, who formed one of
the party, kindly consented to bring his camera along and take
our photographs. Having grouped us within the ruined mauso-
leum of the Empress St. Helena, he photographed the group
with the professor in the centre, and then the professor alone.
This was the first picture the professor had ever had taken.
The first time I called upon him in his illness I merely inquired
at the door and left a card. The next time I came Mrs. Armel-
lini was waiting to tell me that when the professor learned that
I had called before, he made them bring over this group that

92 MARIANO ARMELLINI : DE Rossfs SUCCESSOR. [Oct.,

he might point me out so that they would recognize me next
time and insist on my coming in. All this touched my heart
as I gazed on the face that seemed to smile even in death.
But the thought that brought the keenest anguish was the
recollection of our last meeting. But three short days before
it took place in that very room where his body now lay so still
and silent. On that afternoon he had come over from his
house, more than half a mile distant, for the sole purpose of
bringing me some ancient silver coins of Rome. Having sent
into the lecture hall for me, I came and chatted with him for
fifteen minutes in the very room where I now knelt beside his
bier. How little, alas ! I thought as we parted then that we
were never to meet again in life. And then I recalled my two
visits to him at his little vineyard near St. Paul's-outside-the-
Walls. With the memory of these came back the charm of his
conversations, always sincere, sometimes grave, frequently en-
livened by delicate wit and apt quotation; oh! such rare wit
and such refined wit, that sparkled but never scorched.

A TRUE CHRISTIAN FAMILY.

It was on the occasion of the earlier of these two visits
that I first became acquainted with his children. Having come
unexpectedly, I found them all around a table at their lessons,
two of them, after their father's example, drawing the symbols
of the catacombs. Not till he had provided for his brothers
and sisters, as we have seen, did he think of himself. Feeling
that God had not called him to serve at his altar, he took to
wife Signorina Elena Santambrogio, a pious and learned young
lady of his own station in life. Four children blessed this
happy union a daughter, now in her ninth year ; Tito, a child
now about seven ; Saverio, about five years ; and little Maria,
perhaps just past her third birthday and oh ! what a happy
family this was. It was his desire to form an ideal Christian
family, and in this he was certainly succeeding. Even at their
early age his children were growing up about him in great
promise. He himself undertook their education. Besides the
regular technical instructions, it was his wont to gather them
all about him as a little audience, while he discussed with his
loved consort, in a manner suited to their intelligence, some
story of Christian virtue or the glories of the church and of
the papacy. Thus early he instilled into their young souls a
love and enthusiasm for their holy faith.

1896.] MARIANO ARMELLINI : DE Rossf s SUCCESSOR. 93

FOREBODINGS OF DISSOLUTION.

But for a year past his health had not been good. Always
willing, however, to hope for the best, his loved ones expected
to see him grow strong again. He alone felt the melancholy
presentiment of his approaching death. Often of late he would
pause in the middle of a conversation with his wife, and after
a sad and thoughtful silence, during which the tears would fill
his eyes, he would exclaim : " O cara sposa, tu presto rimarrai
senza di me con questi poveri bambini orfani." All too soon,
alas ! for those that loved him and for the church were these
terrible forebodings to be realized. On the afternoon of Mon-
day, February 24, having gone to give his lecture to the stu-
dents of the Propaganda, he was as usual the centre of attrac-
tion among the professors in the Prefettura before going to his
class-room to teach his young disciples. That day he was prov-
ing to his scholars the antiquity of the canonization of saints, or
the " Vindicatio Martyrum" as it was called in the early centuries.
He stepped from his platform to write upon the black-board

the inscription, fyg/AfrdC 777- AJ*, of Pope St. Fabian, found in

the crypt of the popes in the catacomb of St. Callixtus. He had
mounted his chair again and was showing how the above mono-
gram (martyr) was an argument for the " Vindicatio Martyrum"
because it had been engraved on the marble slab later than the
other words and after the slab had been put in place over the
martyr's grave ; that is to say, after the church had declared
upon his martyrdom. The last words of his lecture were, "A
terra ad martyres," when, oppressed by a sudden dizziness, he
excused himself to his class, saying that he must go into the
fresh air. Alas ! that mighty brain had burst. As he descended
from his chair he staggered, and would have fallen had not the
ready hands of his loving scholars sustained him. While they
were supporting him down the aisle, with that kindness which
always marked him he kept repeating : " Grazie, grazie." Hav-
ing arrived in the corridor he knew this his hour was at
hand, for, turning his thoughts from earth and lifting his eyes
to heaven, he exclaimed: " Iddio, mi ainti ! muojo ! ' Continu-
ing to invoke God, his Blessed Mother, and the saints, he was
borne by kind hands into the Prefettura, where absolution was
at once pronounced over him by one of the reverend professors.
Having revived a little, he requested leave to make his con-
fession, and was heard by Professor Pennacchi. His old school-

94 MARIANO ARMELLINI : DE Rossi' 's SUCCESSOR. [Oct.,

fellow, Father Camesseo, rector of the Propaganda, adminis-
tered Extreme Unction to the dying man. It was a sad scene,
indeed, that was enacted that afternoon in those solemn halls
of learning. The classes were all dismissed, and the kind pro-
fessors went about with sorrowful faces, doing evetything pos-
sible for one they loved so well. Those grave, learned men
cast aside all dignity in their grief, and ran as boys on mes-
sages of mercy, some for doctors, one for poor Mariano's wife,
another for his uncle, Father Torquato Armellini, S.J., still an-
other for his parish priest. But alas ! for all love could do.
He soon lost consciousness by the flooding of his brain from
the ruptured blood-vessel, and as the shades of evening were
closing in upon that dreary day his pure, noble soul went out
from the body, and taking its flight " A terra ad martyres,"
rested in the bosom of God.

HIS LAST LECTURE.

Sad, indeed, was the blow to us all ; but more especially sad
to his loving wife, who arrived too late to meet with any sign
of recognition. For two days the body lay in state in the
Prefettura, now made a temporary chapel. His disciples, young
ecclesiastics from every region under the sun, formed a guard
of honor about the dead apostle, and recited the office of the
dead while the crowds surged in to take a last look at that
loved face. Let me quote now from the funeral address of
Monsignor Bartolini : " Surrounded by the future missionaries
from even the most inhospitable quarters of the earth lay the
master and the apostle of Christian archaeology. It was fitting
that the grand athlete of the religious idea, the noble explorer
of the monuments of our faith, the forcible and learned writer
on the memories of the catacombs of the Eternal City, should
repose among those whom Rome sends to Christianize the
world ! It was fitting that his last lecture on sacred archaeology
should thus end ! It was fitting that death should interrupt his
discourse while his word, fruitful in Christian memories, formed
the apostles of distant continents ! His body, composed upon
the bier and surrounded by the funeral torches, seemed that
of a martyr. From out the lines of that white face appeared
the gentle smile of peace. An inspired painter might have
drawn therefrom the figure of a Saint Sebastian. He who
knelt beside that bier felt a sense of profound reverence come
over his heart, felt his anguish tempered by a sense of peace-
ful calm."

1896.] MARIANO ARMELLINI : DE Rossfs SUCCESSOR. 95

AN IMPRESSIVE FUNERAL.

As a hero he lived, as a hero he died, and as a hero he
was borne to his rest. It was on a cold and dreary afternoon
that all that is learned and noble in Rome gathered about the
Propaganda to transport to the parish church near the Trevi
Fountain the lifeless form of him whom they revered as a mas-
ter. The chill Roman rain drizzled down upon the heads of
those who crowded the Piazza Mignanelli, rilled the Piazza, di
Spagna, and overflowed into the adjoining streets. The rectors
of the universities in which he lectured, prelates, savants, no-
blemen, were named as his pall-bearers, but the members of
the Working-men's Society claimed and obtained the honor of
bearing their secretary to the church. I consider it one of the
honors of my life that, as his friend, I was chosen among those
who bore torches beside his bier. As we moved across the
piazza, and along the streets, no less than ten thousand friends
of him who went about so unobtrusively in life followed after
with bared heads. All traffic was suspended in that section of
the city. It is said that King Humbert, driving through a
neighboring street and seeing the multitude, stopped in alarm
to inquire what it all meant. Walking in that vast throng were
archbishop,* prelate, priest, and simple student, Roman princef
and poor working-man, men the fame of whose learning is
bounded only by the limits of civilization side by side with
those to whom the letters of the alphabet would be a puzzle.
Mariano's funeral march was a real Christian triumph, grand be-
yond any pageant that Rome's civic glory had ever known be-
fore. It was not the captive's wail that accompanied this tri-
umphal procession, but the hopeful prayer of ten thousand
loving hearts and throats that, by common impulse, recited
the Rosary as they followed after the body of this gentle cham-
pion of their faith. I myself saw men struggling but to touch
the bier. It was pathetic to see his poor laboring friends try-
ing each to have a part in carrying the remains of one they
so revered, and when they could not actually support the cof-
fin, they clutched the pall that covered it, so that they might
tell their children they had been among Mariano's bearers.

The body rested over-night in the church, and on the mor-
row we mournfully laid him in the tomb. A solemn Mass was
chanted, and the great singers of Rome gathered there to pay
their tribute of respect to him who was the noblest Roman of

* Archbishop Grasselli. t Prince Lancelotti.

g6 MARIANO ARMELLINI : DE Rossfs SUCCESSOR. [Oct.,

them all. It seemed to me as if Capocci never sang so well as
at that Mass. Monsignor Bartolini ascended the pulpit and
pronounced an oration in which his own sorrow mingled with
that of the public, while high above the lower tones of grief
rang out a clear and sustained note of hope and confidence
that Mariano's soul was at peace, at rest among the martyrs.
" Live," concluded the orator, " O truly Christian soul, in all
. the vigor of thy faith and of thy works ! Live joyously among
the martyrs, whose glories you have made known here on earth,
oh ! devout restorer of the catacombs ! Enjoy the immortal
brightness that their sufferings won them, and rejoice at the
unfading beauty of their palms ! O untiring visitor of the cata-
combs ! O master of the symbols of death ! enjoy now the in-
effable splendor of that Eternal City to which the dark and
mysterious corridors of these same catacombs conducted such
a multitude of witnesses to the faith. But, alas ! leave not
without comfort your friends, your admirers. As Tertullian
wrote, ' From the blood of martyrs other martyrs sprang up/
so, too, from the memory of fervent Christians other fervent
Christians arise. Although the battle we now fight be unbloody,
it is none the less terrible. Obtain, therefore, from God for
our youth, and especially for the youth of Rome, steadfastness
in the faith, and cause a fresh phalanx of defenders of the
Christian idea to spring up. Bring it about that the generation
of the brave never grow less. We, on our part, shall ever re-
member thy gentle smile as that of St. Philip Neri, thy vigor-
ous speech as that of an Apostle."

North American College, Rome, Italy.

1896.]

SUMMER is O'ER.

SUMMER IS O'ER.

BY WALTER LECKY.

THE flowers are dead and gone ;
Their yellow stems live on,
Awaiting kindly frost,
Then nipt and tempest tost.
Summer is o'er.

The leaves have lost their sheen
And shed their summer green,
In russet garb to dress,
Thus pass, a loveliness.
Summer is o'er.

The birds in snatches sing,
They fly with leaden wing,
All fun and chatter fled ;
Their laughing spirit dead.
Summer is o'er.

And youth, my youth, is past:
Its flowers, its leaves, its song;
And wintry age at last
Has rule, the wreck among.
Summer is o'er.

VOL. LXIV. 7

J. B. P. A. DE MONET, CHEVALIER DE LAMARCK.

LAMARCK.

BY WILLIAM SETON, LL.D.

EAN BAPTISTE PIERRE ANTOINE DE MO-
NET, otherwise known as the Chevalier de La-
marck, was the eleventh child of Pierre de Mo-
net, a gentleman of birth, who traced his ances-
try back to an ancient family of the South of
France. Lamarck was born in the village of Bazentin, in the
department of Picardie, August I, 1744, and as his parents
were not at all rich it was deemed best that he should become
a priest, and to this end he was sent to make his studies with
the Jesuits at Amiens. But, fortunately, he discovered in time
that he had no vocation for the priesthood ; the blood in his
veins called him to be a soldier. Three of his brothers had
joined the army, and already the eldest one had been killed
at the siege of Berg-op-Zoom. But it was not until his father's

1896.] LAMARCK. 99

death, in 1760, that, Lamarck was able to have his own way
in the matter.

Once free to do as he pleased, he bade adieu to his fellow-
students in the seminary, and, mounting a broken-down nag, he
made his way to the seat of war in Westphalia. Like many
another youth, he saw, as he jogged along the high-road, only
the golden side of life. And surely he would meet with no
obstacles, for did he not carry in his pocket a letter of intro-
duction to a Colonel de Lastic, who of course would receive
him with open arms? This letter had been given to him by a
kind-hearted lady, Madame de Lameth, whose country-seat ad-
joined his own dear home in Picardie. Nor can we wonder at
his high spirits, for when she had patted his cheek for good-
by she had said to him: " Vous serez bientot officier."

Perhaps the happiest part of Lamarck's long life was this
very journey to the seat of war. But like everything else it
had to come to an end, and all too soon he came in sight of
the French camp and handed his letter to Colonel de Lastic.
Imagine Lamarck's feelings when De Lastic, after surveying
him a moment a delicate youth of seventeen, thin and pale-
waved him off, exclaiming that he would never do for a sol-
dier. But, keenly as these words smote Lamarck, he was not
to be rebuffed; and turning his jaded horse loose, he went to
mingle with the grenadiers of De Lastic's regiment. He learned
that on the morrow there was every likelihood of a battle, and
when he told them his story they all agreed that he might, if
he chose, fight in their ranks as a volunteer.

We may picture to ourselves Colonel de Lastic's surprise
the next morning when he reviewed his regiment and discovered
Lamarck standing in the front rank ; there was evidently no
getting rid of this puny youth. At any rate he was not a
coward : already the cannon were booming ; and so they went
into battle. But fortune did not favor the French. They
were beaten and driven back. But the beardless volunteer
from Picardie refused to retreat, and, rallying round him a
handful of kindred spirits, he fought like a lion. Nearly all
were killed except himself; how he escaped was a miracle,
and on the morrow he was publicly complimented for his brav-
ery, and within a short time he was made a lieutenant.

We have now reached a turning point in Lamarck's career.
The war soon came to an end, and the young officer found
himself stationed with his regiment at Toulon and Monaco. A
garrison life is a dull life at best, and time might have hung

ioo LAMARCK. [Oct.,

heavily on his hands except for a fondness for nature. He had
already read Chomel's Traite des Plantes usuelles, and he be-
came very much interested in the flowers and plants which grew
in that part of the country.

Nevertheless, he might never have become a great natural-
ist ; his active brain might have contented itself with giving
the world a new book of tactics and some interesting essays in
botany, had not a severe surgical operation on his neck
obliged Lamarck to leave the army on a modest pension of
four hundred francs.* This was barely enough to support him,
and he was obliged to eke out his income by a meagre salary
earned as a banker's clerk in Paris. But as in the army he
had not given his whole time to drilling soldiers and reading
novels, so now when his desk-work was finished, instead of
strolling along the boulevards, he would betake himself to the
Jardin du Roi (now the Jardin des Plantes), and in six months
he had written La Flore fran^aise a work which is even to-day
of prime importance for the flora ojf France. It might, how-
ever, have attracted little notice in those frivolous times had it
not been for the happy fact that Rousseau had made botany
fashionable ; the veriest dude at court, buried under his
powdered wig, was supposed to know something about flowers.
Buffon, too, used his influence to have Lamarck's first scientific
work printed at the royal printing-house, and the following
year Lamarck was admitted to the Academy of Sciences. Nor
did Buffon's good will towards him end here. Wishing to have
his son complete his education by travel, he placed him in
Lamarck's care ; then, having obtained for the latter a com-
mission from the government, the two made an extended tour
through Holland, Germany, and Hungary; and during the
course of their travels Lamarck formed the acquaintance of
several distinguished naturalists. On his return to Paris he
gave himself up with increased zeal to his favorite study, and
the first fruit of his renewed labors was the addition of four
volumes to the Encyclopedic methodique, which had been com-
menced by d'Alembert and Diderot, and in these volumes he
described every then known plant the first letters of which ran
from A. to P.

By this time Lamarck's name had become known in the
world of science, and the humblest worker in any of its branch-
es was not too lowly for him to speak to and encourage ;
and when Sonnerat came back from India, in 1781, with an

* Eighty dollars.

1896.]

LAMARCK.

101

immense collection of plants, Lamarck was the only one who
called on him and welcomed him home. In fact, Sonnerat was
so stung by this coldness and neglect that he made Lamarck
-his only friend a present of his whole herbarium.

But neither Lamarck's genius nor his noble qualities of
heart helped him much to earn his daily bread, and for fifteen
years he had hard work to pay the rent of his room and to
get enough for himself and wife to eat for his half-empty
purse did not keep him from marrying.

It is not easy to say how it might all have ended for
besides his wife there were coming into the world a number of
children had he not been given a position in the Museum of

LAMARCK AS A MEMBER OF THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCES.

Natural History, which had just been founded by Lakanal.
These were stormy, and in a certain sense glorious, times for
France ; and while Carnot, the great war minister, was organiz-
ing victory for the Republican arms, Lakanal, the minister of
public instruction, was determined to organize the natural
sciences.

Lamarck was now in his fiftieth year, and his whole atten-
tion thus far had been devoted to botany ; here he found him-
self unexpectedly called on to teach zoology, of which he
knew comparatively little. Yet so great was the application
which he brought to this to him new branch of natural his-

102 LAMARCK. [Oct.,

tory that in the space of a twelvemonth his lectures became
well attended, and it is to him we owe the grand divisions of
the animal kingdom into vertebrates and invertebrates. And
now at last Lamarck was in a thoroughly congenial atmosphere.

Geoffrey Saint-Hilaire a kindred spirit held a chair in
the same museum, and these may be considered not unhappy
days in Lamarck's struggling life. It was not, however, until
1809, after fifteen years of patient investigation, that he pub-
lished his world-known work, La Philosophic Zoologique. But
hard study, oftentimes protracted far into the night by the
light of a tallow candle, and the too frequent use of the micro-
scope, began to tell upon his eyesight. Yet he would not
abandon his labors in natural history, and no sooner had
he completed La Philosophic Zoologique than he commenced
UHistoire des Animaux saris Vcrtcbres which some authorities
consider his greatest work. It is in seven volumes ; but before
he finished it, in 1822, he became totally blind, and the last
volume might never have been written except for his elder
daughter, Cornlie, his devoted amanuensis.

It is interesting to know that Lamarck's life-long strait-
ened circumstances did not hinder him from having four wives ;
and he outlived them all, and the last ten years of his exist-
ence were passed alone with his two daughters. What would
the blind old man have done without them ?

For several years before his death he was too infirm to
leave his room. But CorneUie sat by him and read to him, and
during this whole period she did not take a single breath of
fresh air herself.

Lamarck died on December 18, 1829, aged eighty-five.
To his humble funeral came all the scientific men of France.
All lamented him and many eulogized him ; but tears and
praises cost nothing, and when he was under ground his daugh-
ters were left to shift for themselves. Had they been the off-
spring of some fawning courtier, the government would no
doubt have allowed them a pension. But they were merely
the children of a distinguished naturalist, and what better
could they expect than to be forgotten ? The venerable
Charles Martins, professor of natural history of Montpellier,
tells us :* J'ai vu moimeme, en 1832, Mile. Corne"lie de Lamarck
attacher pour une mince salaire sur des feuilles de papier blanc
les plantes de 1'herbier du museum ou son pere avait e"te pro-
fesseur. Souvent des especes nommees et decrites par lui ont

* Revue des Deux Mondes, March, 1873.

1896.] LAMARCK. 103

pass sous ses yeux, et ce souvenir ajoutait sans doute a 1'amer-
tume de ses regrets."

Nevertheless, one thing France, or rather the people of
Paris, have done to honor him ; after waiting more than a
generation they have given his name to the highest street of
the capital. As we mount the hill to visit the grand and
costly church of the Sacred Heart on top of Montmartre, we
wind along the rue Lamarck.

And now, having briefly sketched the life of this great man,
the reader may ask what is his chief title to fame ? Well it is,
in our opinion, La Philosophic Zoologique, which, next to Dar-
win's Origin of Species, is the most epoch-making book of the
century. No book had ever before so profoundly moved the
scientific world.

As we know, the idea of evolution is not new ; it comes
down to us from the Greeks. But no one before Lamarck had
so genuinely interpreted nature and given such good reasons
for believing in creation by evolution. Hence all who held the
theory of direct creation and they were in the vast majority
attacked Lamarck without mercy. Cuvier threw his great in-
fluence against him, while those who were not able to under-
stand his hypothesis turned it into ridicule. Nor did these
attacks cease until the aged naturalist sank into the grave.

But time, which sets many things right, has vindicated La-
marck, and the Lamarckian factors are to-day accepted by not
a few of the most eminent men of science.

Lamarck tells us that species are not fixed and immutable ;
that since the beginning of life on our globe the environment
has been often and profoundly modified, and that many or-
ganisms which have not been able to adapt themselves to
changes of climate, food, etc., have become extinct, while other
organisms have changed with changed conditions. These have
become adapted to new surroundings. Their forms have be-
come suited to their habits, because the habits through the
effects of use and disuse created the forms, and these through
heredity have been transmitted to their descendants. And
hence, according to 'Lamarck, have arisen new species. Such
in brief is what is known as the Lamarckian theory of evolu-
tion, in opposition to the Darwinian theory of natural selec-
tion. But for a better exposition of it we refer the reader to
La Philosophic Zoologique.

IO4 DEVELOPMENT, NOT EVOLUTION. [Oct.,

DEVELOPMENT, NOT EVOLUTION.

BY ALEXANDER McDONALD, D.D.

N an article contributed to a late number of the
London Tablet Dr. St. George Mivart, F.R.S.,
discusses the best and readiest way of convinc-
ing non-Catholics, especially of the Anglican
High-Church type, that no appeal can reasonably
be taken from the Church of to-day to the Church of the Fathers,
or to the Primitive Church. " Some Anglicans," he says,
"speak as if we ought to be able to show that processions of
the Blessed Sacrament were made in the catacombs, and that
St. Peter was carried about in Rome on a Sedia Gestatoria
between fans of peacock's feathers ! ' Of course there would be
little use arguing the matter with men of this stamp. And yet,
even to earnest seekers after the truth, the seeming divergence
between the church of to-day and the early church doubtless
proves a stumbling-block. What these must be brought to
realize is, as Dr. Mivart well observes, that "the church is a
living body, with as much authority now as at any previous
period, and that, in spite of apparent external differences, she
is essentially unchanged since the day of Pentecost."

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH IS THAT OF A LIVING ORGANISM.

Now, to get this conception of the church into the mind of
any intelligent believer in a divine revelation ought not, after
all, to be a difficult task. The religious society founded by
Jesus Christ, as set before us in the pages of Holy Writ, bears
plainly about it all the characters of a living organism, en-
dowed with perennial life. The conception of the church as an
organic body, united with Christ its Head and vivified by
the Holy Spirit, runs through the writings of St. Paul', and is
beautifully developed in the fifteenth chapter of his First
Epistle to the Corinthians. In his great work on The Develop-
ment of Christian Doctrine Cardinal Newman has shown how
the church, taken as a whole, must, conformably to the law of
all organic beings, while remaining essentially the same, expand
its ritual and grow into a riper knowledge of revealed truth in
all its bearings, as time goes on. But Dr. Mivart tells us that
there was need of something to make this idea of development
familiar to the popular mind, and that something, he is per-
suaded, is the doctrine of evolution. He says :

1896.] DEVELOPMENT, NOT EVOLUTION. 105

" It is by means of the idea f evolution, now almost uni-
versally diffused and regarded with the keenest interest, that we
may succeed in impressing on many people the Catholic
doctrine concerning the church's continued vitality and develop-
ment, far more effectively than could have been the case
antecedently. We can now appeal, as we never could before,
to the harmony which exists between the development of
dogma and ritual, and that process of evolution which has
come to be recognized as taking place in every department
of nature, from the formation and distribution of the celestial
orbs to the due unfolding of the wonderfully complex mechan-
ism of the simplest insect, and from the lowest organic form
to the physical framework of man himself. This conception
will greatly aid us to explain, in a way at once popular and
scientific, the orderly evolution of the Catholic Church as it
exists to-day ; the church having implicitly contained from the
beginning, in a latent state, all the majesty and harmony we
behold in it at the present time as the beauty and symmetry
of a butterfly was latent in the humble grub from which it was
developed. By means of the doctrine of evolution, already
familiar and accepted by those we shall address, we may be
able, much more easily than without it, to convince them that
the church of our own period must be (not in every detail but
on the whole) above all glorious, above all authoritative ;
because evolved, and so perfected, beyond all preceding states
and conditions, though preparing the way for a yet more per-
fect condition to be attained later."

ORGANISMS THAT LIVE MUST DEVELOP.

The assumption which underlies these words of the distin-
guished scientist is, that before the doctrine of evolution be-
came known and widely diffused, it was hard to bring home to
the minds of men that the religious society which was cradled
in Jerusalem and nurtured in the concealment of the catacombs,
is really and essentially the same with that which to-day
spreads itself over all the earth, challenging the admiration of
the world by reason of the perfectness of its organization, the
majesty of its ritual, and the loftiness and consistency of its
teachings. But surely this assumption is without warrant. Our
Lord himself likens the church which he established to a grain
of mustard-seed, which is the least indeed of all seeds, but
which, when sown in the ground, grows up and becomes a tree,
so that the birds of the air come and dwell in the branches
thereof. There is nothing which is borne in with greater force

106 DEVELOPMENT, NOT EVOLUTION. [Oct.,

on the minds of even the rudest men than that process of
growth and development which is ever going on within them-
selves and in all the world around them. The few grains of
seed thrown into the earth in the spring become by autumn a
waving field of corn ; the slender sapling planted a few years
ago is now a stately tree ; the child of yesterday is the full-
grown man of to-day. And the identity of the living organism
throughout all these changes, is it not a thing plain to the senses,
and in the case of man attested by his own consciousness ?
What more apposite illustration, then, of the identity of the
church in all the stages of its development can be found than
that which our Lord himself pointed out to us in the ever-
present phenomena of the organic world ? Shall we be told
that an apter means of impressing this great historic fact upon
the popular mind is now at hand in the evolutionary hypothesis,
that brilliant conjecture of modern science? But the evolution-
ary process, if such a process there was, went on in the silence
of geological epochs, remote from all possibility of man's
observation ; whereas the process of organic development,
along definite lines and within certain fixed limits, is going on
daily around us, before the eyes alike of the man of science in
his laboratory and the peasant in the field or forest that sur-
rounds his humble home. Who would delve among fossils, or
grope in the dim and shadowy domain of the prehistoric past,
when there lies open here and now unto all a broad highway
to the desired goal, so that even the fool shall not err therein ?

IN DEVELOPING ORGANISMS PRESERVE THEIR IDENTITY.

The new path by which Dr. Mivart would lead men to a
sensible realization of the church's permanent identity through-
out the ages is thus beset by two great difficulties, its remote-
ness and its uncertainty. And, what is matter of graver
moment, the path itself is tortuous and full of pitfalls. Ob-
serve that the great point to be made clear to those without
is the fact that the church, " in spite of apparent external dif-
ferences, is essentially unchanged since the day of Pentecost."
On the other hand, it is the doctrine of evolution, brought to
bear upon this fact by way of illustration, that is to clear up
the obscurities in which it is supposed to be involved. What,
then, is evolution ? Mr. Herbert Spencer, the great master of
the evolutionist school, has, with his wonted lucidity, defined
it as " a change from an indefinite and incoherent homogeneity
to a definite and coherent heterogeneity, through continuous
differentiations and integrations." Happily we are not now

1896.] DEVELOPMENT, NOT EVOLUTION. 107

greatly concerned with evolution in the broad sense in which
it is defined by Mr. Spencer, and so may leave to others the
task of elucidating what these learned words mean. The
Church of God, as has been already observed, is a living
organism ; hence the only form of evolution in which a paral-
lel for its development mi'ght be sought, with at least a show
of reason, is that which is known as organic evolution. This
implies, as Dr. Mivart himself explains it in his work On
Truth, " that new species new kinds of animals and plants-
have from time to time arisen from antecedent kinds, which
were different, by a process of natural generation." It will be
apparent at a glance how ill-suited such a conception would be
to bring home to the minds of men the fact that the church-
to quote once more the words of Mr. Mivart " in spite of
apparent external differences, is essentially unchanged since the
day o'f Pentecost." Essential unchangeableness is the note of
the church ; the very opposite is the characteristic of the
species, in the evolutionary hypothesis. The church grows and
expands without losing its identity, " like a tree planted by the
rivers of water"; the species, according to the evolutionist,
merges its identity in that which comes after it, and is anni-
hilated in its offspring. The identity of the church throughout
the manifold phases of its growth has its parallel, not in a
hypothetical evolution of species, but in the development of
every living organism within the limits of its kind. And this
is, after all, if not the only form of organic development, at
least the only form of it that we can know aught of with cer-
tainty ; the only form of it that ever has come within the reach
of human observation since men began to people the earth.

COMPARISONS LIMP.

Dr. Mivart gives us, in the course of his article, one or two
samples of the way in which the doctrine of evolution lends
itself to the elucidation of certain phases of historical Chris-
tianity. " The so-called ' Orthodox ' Church of the East," he
tells us, " may be compared to a chrysalis struck by a paralysis
which hinders it from attaining the Imago (or fully developed)
state, and keeps it unchanging like a fossil. The various
heretical communities may be likened to species which have
undergone a retrogressive metamorphosis (as is the case with
various crustacean species), the lowest of which drag on a de-
based life sans eyes, sans ears, sans limbs, sans everything."
These comparisons are ingenious, but purely fanciful. Similar
brilliant flashes of the scientific imagination have served to

io8 DEVELOPMENT, NOT EVOLUTION. [Oct.,

throw a sort of glamour over many a dark gap in the record
of evolution itself. The comparison of the schismatical Greek
Church to a palsied chrysalis may be forcible as a figure of
speech ; but it fades away before the searching light of bio-
logical and historical facts. A chrysalis is an organism in the
transition stage, having a principle of life within itself indepen-
dent of the parent organism. The Greek Church, on the other
hand, was in organic union with the parent organism the
Church Universal during the first eight centuries and a half
of its existence, and never had an independent principle of
organic life. In like manner, the comparison of the various
heretical bodies to species that have undergone a sort of retro-
gressive transformation is singularly inept and misleading when
viewed in the sober light of history and fact. How much more
truly and aptly are they likened, as they have been from old
time likened, to limbs lopped off from the parent tree, which,
having no longer any common bond of organic life, keep ever
breaking up into smaller fragments that are tossed to and fro
with every wind ! And then, too, might not these same hereti-
cal bodies shelter themselves behind the very principle which
is thus confidently invoked to discredit and confound them ?
The principle to which you appeal, they might with reason
retort, makes for us, not against us. For we, however mani-
fold our divisions and differences at present, are descended by
process of organic development from Christianity in its primi-
tive form, just as the multitudinous species of living organisms
that now inhabit the globe have come by process of evolution
from one primitive type.

CARDINAL NEWMAN'S GREATEST WORK.

Cardinal Newman has traced out the laws of the church's
development, and put the word " development ' on the title-
page of his great work. No man knew better than he the use
of words, as even his adversary confessed. It is best to hold
to the word that he used, as fittest to describe the growth of
that divinely organized society wherein no evolutionary pro-
cess, no shadow of transformation, ever can have place. What-
ever may have been the origin of species, " the Church of the
living God, the pillar and ground of the truth," is certainly
the product of a " special creation," fashioned by the hand of
God, quickened with life by God's Holy Spirit, ever adapting
itself indeed to its environment in this changeful world, yet
never varying by a hair's-breadth from the primitive type-
semper eadem, unchanged and unchangeable to the end.

1896.]

VALE.

109

VALE.

BY BERT MARTEL.
I.

ES, I am dying, dearest ;
This world is all a-cloud,
And yet a splendor not of earth
My darkling soul doth shroud.
Love, put thine arms around me,
For I must .leave thee now ;
Kiss, kiss away the pain from

death,
The grave-damp from my brow.

II.

Yes, I am dying, dearest ;

Still wherefore shouldst thou weep ?

For death is only happiness

Won by a strange, sweet sleep.

Then sorrow not, beloved ;

The years are passing few

For thee to live the old, old life,

The while I live the new.

III.

Yes, I am dying, dearest ;

I feel the warning chill,

And yet a fire that's not of earth

My thirsting soul doth fill.

'Tis God a-whispering to me,

/ come, my Love, I come :

Farewell, my child, I cannot stay ;

My Lover calls me home.

no HOUSING OF THE PEOPLE IN GREAT CITIES. [Oct.,

HOUSING OF THE PEOPLE IN GREAT CITIES.

T is earnestly to be desired that the attention of
the Greater New York Commission shall be given
to the last Report of the Commissioner of Labor.
The fact that this report, which is the eighth of
the series since the department was started, is
occupied exclusively with the question of the housing of the
people in great cities, gives it a special interest. Much has
been done by legislation to promote the public welfare in
this vital matter, but all those who have had experience of
what has been done and is doing in the great centres of popu-
lation in other countries must confess that in questions of civic
government and beneficent administration we here in the United
States, so far from leading the world, are sadly behind the age.
Members of the Greater New York Commission have gone to
Europe to study the systems of municipal government which are
bringing contentment and better health and longer lives to the
urban populations there. They cannot but be struck by the im-
mense differences which they shall find between the way in
which the great problems in economy and sanitation have been
handled in the leading European cities and their American
competitors.

No one can deny the valuable character of this report. It
affords proof of the zeal and capability of the commissioner, in
its carefully prepared statistics and lucid analyses. Mr. Wright
has had the invaluable assistance of Mr. E. R. L. Gould, Ph.D.,
in the preparation of the work. This gentleman's claims to
speak on the subject are too well known to need any exposi-
tion. He is an expert in this department of sociology, as noted
for his acumen as for his philanthropic spirit.

What are the main defects in the existing arrangements for
the housing of the working classes ? There are two principal
ones. These are : disproportion of rent to the wages of the
tenant, and disproportion of air and light to the absolute wants
of the individual. These are the primary faults which are to
be found in every large city. Other faults there are, inciden-
tal to the desire of those who get the houses for working peo-
ple built to make the most they could of the space, the air,
and the light to which they had acquired the right. It is only

1896.] HOUSING OF THE PEOPLE IN GREAT CITIES. in

necessary to go carefully through the concluding part of this
report to gain an idea of the amount of evil inflicted upon
the general community
by the unfettered indul-
gence of this avaricious
desire. It is fatal to the
morality of large cities ;
it gives a bloated mor-
tality bill ; it entails a
tremendous expense, in
the cost of police and
public relief and the pub-
lic mortuary, the end of
it all ; besides the nega-
tive cost of the loss of
so much labor as is an- <
nually caused by un-
' healthy conditions of
living twenty days out
of the year, according
to one eminent authority, ffi
in some of the worst con-
gested localities.

Regarding the fault of
high rents, it is safe to
say that there is no other ]
city where the rent
charged is so much out
of proportion to the
wages of the earners as
in New York ; . and no-
where, furthermore, is the
rent so much out of pro-
portion to the accommo-
dations for which it is
exacted. Now, this is
one of the weightiest
problems which the com-
mission will have to con-
sider. It is not, of course,
within its scope to inter-
fere in any way with the freedom of private speculation or the
right of private contract, or the legitimate course of business in

ii2 HOUSING OF THE PEOPLE IN GREAT CITIES. [Oct.,

house-traffic. But it is unquestionably one of its functions to
encourage in every possible way the erection of a better class
of dwellings for the mass of the people, to provide facilities
for the carrying-out of philanthropic designs in that direction,
to recommend such legislation as would enable associations of
working-men to erect houses, to become in time their own pro-
perty ; to discourage the present system of herding hundreds
of people within the four walls of one huge structure, and to
aim at the separate home system instead. This is of the very
essence of modern civilization, and therefore ought to be the
grand object, to which all other things are subsidiary, in the
opening of this important new chapter in the history of New
York.

There is one very surprising statement in the course of this
report. In chapter nine, speaking of Mr. Alfred T. White's
model tenements in Brooklyn, the remark is made that " domes-
tic privacy seems to be regarded of greater importance in
American life than elsewhere." If so, there has been the least
respect shown for the sentiment by the builders of the old-
fashioned flat and tenement-house systems of New York, of
any city in the world. The destruction of all privacy seems to
have been the primary end in view when these ingenious tor-
ture-places were being constructed. Every facility was given,
by a peculiar system of air-shaft contrivances and the arrange-
ment of windows and corridors, for the inquisitive-minded to
become fully possessed of the secrets of the family beside or
beneath them. In the rear flats especially it was impossible
for neighbors to live without knowing a good deal about each
other's business, unless they were deaf mutes. To the tired
toiler, seeking a well-earned spell of repose, this propinquity is
at times a fearful infliction, when his neighbors in the next
house happen to have noisy children, or keep irregular hours,
or be of that loquacious turn and high-pitched voice not at all
unusual in American cities. Concealment or seclusion seems to
be the thing never once thought of by the usual dwellers in
New York flats; so that the more domestic virtue, if it ever
existed here, has been long forgotten. This fact may be due
more to the architectural system than the social tendency.

Were it proposed by any one in this country that state
help should be given to the workman's efforts to house himself,
the proposition would probably be met by the cry of " Social-
ism ! ' We are too easily scared with shibboleths. In Eng-
land for the past forty years, under Conservative administra-

1896.] HOUSING OF THE PEOPLE IN GREAT CITIES. 113

tions as well as under Liberal, there has been state interven-
tion from time to time, in the way of helpful enactments, far
removed from officious meddling, in the housing of the wage-

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earners. The most important of these enactments are the
Artisans and Laborers' Dwellings Act of 1875, and the Muni-
cipal Corporations Act of 1882. By co-operation with the
Local Government Board, municipal authorities are enabled,

VOL. LXIV. 8

ii4 HOUSING OF THE PEOPLE IN GREAT CITIES. [Oct.;

under the provisions of these acts, to purchase ground for
building blocks of suitable dwellings for people of moderate
resources, to level dilapidated and unsanitary tenements, and
to lease ground for definite periods to private companies for
the carrying out of the same objects, on providing certain
guarantees for the protection of the tenants. When the Local
Government Board was satisfied that a scheme proposed was
bona fide, sound as a commercial speculation, and calculated to
prove of practical benefit to all concerned, it was empowered
to recommend the imperial treasury to grant a loan, at an
exceptionally low rate of interest (generally about one and one-
quarter per cent.), and for a long term of years, for the effectu-
ation of the scheme. Under this salutary system a wonderful
transformation has been wrought in many great English cities.
Miles of tottering and sodden fabrics have been swept away in
London, Liverpool, Manchester, Glasgow, Dublin, and many
other -places, and rows of neat cottages, as well as squares of
artisans' dwellings on the "flat* system on the civilized plan,
have sprung up in city and suburbs. It is the principle stead-
ily kept in view, by the municipal authorities, that large re-
turns must not be looked for from these undertakings. In
Liverpool two great blocks of buildings, the Victoria Square
and Juvenal Dwellings, are available for working-men at a rent
which represents fifteen per cent, of the average wages of the
head of a family ; and yet the corporation gets a steady return
of four per cent, on the original outlay. In Glasgow the aver-
age proportion of rent to income, in the case of the Work-
men's Dwellings Company, is only ten per cent, on the original
outlay. How different a state of affairs from that in New York !
From thirty-three to fifty per cent, is the usual proportion of
rent to the toiler's wages.

Philanthropists here are not sufficiently insistent upon this
point. The amount of rent which the working classes have to
pay is an element of the highest importance in this great
problem. If there is one place in the United States where
state or municipal interference is demanded, even in defiance
of a deep-seated sentiment against such methods, it is the
municipality of New York.

It is extremely difficult to arrive at any safe basis for a
comparison between the conditions here and those in Euro-
pean countries. There is so much difference between the rates
of wages, the cost of materials, value of land, the purchasing
power of money, transit facilities, and other elements, in each

1896.] HOUSING OF THE PEOPLE IN GREAT CITIES. 115

case, that one may be easily led into fallacious conclusions by
the omission of a necessary factor or the assumption of factors
which have no existence. Still there is some means of forming,
a rough idea of the respective conditions. A census of the
tenants of the Workmen's Dwellings Company in Glasgow, for
instance, revealed their respective employments and their aver-
age weekly earnings. They ranged from machinists and iron-
workers down to dressmakers and charwomen. The average

weekly earnings amounted to twenty-three shillings and six-
pence, or five dollars and sixty-four cents. All were people
who could live either in one room or two rooms, into which
two classes the houses of this company are divided. Forty-
three cents per week is the rent paid for single rooms, and
from sixty-one to sixty-five cents for two-room tenements. A
little over nine per cent, is, therefore, the proportion of rent to
wages which this class of tenants pay.

Now take the case of New York. Let us take at random
the rents of the Tenement House Building Company. They
have a number of Hebrew tenants in their two-room apartments
-shirt-makers, cigar-makers, and others of like class. Two-
room tenements in these buildings pay rents ranging from six
to eight dollars per month. That is to say, the tenants are
charged about three times the amount they would have to pay
in Glasgow for similar accommodations.. The earnings of this
class of tenants, on an average, cannot be more than twice the
amount made by the people in the Glasgow tenements ; the
probability is that there is very little difference at all, taken
year in, year out. The additional cost of labor, materials, and
ground cannot surely account for such an enormous disparity
as we find in a ratio of three to one. And this ratio, it will
be found on investigation, is pretty well preserved in all the
gradations of house accommodation, between New York and
the chief English cities.

Many reasons are put forward for the maintenance of
this high scale of rents. The most rational of these is the
increased cost of labor within recent years especially in the
building trades. Mr. Alfred T. White, of Brooklyn, a well-
known authority on tenement-house affairs, puts this increase
down at forty per cent, within fifteen years. Still there is no
sufficient reason for the enormous advance in rents during the
same period. To affirm that these have at least doubled with-
in that time would be to take a very safe position. There is
an increasing tendency toward the construction of barrack-like

ii6 HOUSING OF THE PEOPLE IN GREAT CITIES. [Oct.,

buildings for the crowding within four walls of hundreds of
people. No doubt this plan has much to commend it to those
who have money to invest in house-building, as it is much

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easier to keep one large building in repair and operate the
tenancy under a uniform system of regulations than a cluster
of separate homes. But from the point of view of the tenants'
interest the system is most pernicious. It destroys that sense

1896.] HOUSING OF THE PEOPLE IN GREAT CITIES. 117

of freedom and temporary ownership which the payment of a
large rent ought to bring, and gives the sort of notion of life
that comes from dwelling in a public institution. It insures
congestion, no matter how liberal the air-space allowed each
tenant. It insures discomfort and undesirable association, in a
thousand ways, no matter how careful the supervision. It de-
stroys, in fact, the theory of home the home which ought to
be a man's own castle and makes him pay the highest amount
of money for such conditions of existence as he does not relish
and would not accept if he could help himself.

This state of things must still prevail, to a very large ex*
tent, until the great problem of rapid transit shall have been
solved. Then it will not be a matter of so much moment that
workers should live close to the places in which their work is
needed, and the ample dimensions of the enlarged city afford
plenty of space for the erection of real homes for the people
instead of the present pigeon-hole structures. The most that
.can be expected for the present is that the mammoth tene-
ment arrangement shall keep pace with the progress of tfre time
in the science of structural improvement and the laws of hygiene
and sanitation. Those buildings put up by Mr. Albert T.
White in Brooklyn may be taken as examples of a good
American standard. They show many improvements, in their
internal arrangements, over the older style of flats and tene-
ments, and differ very materially in many matters of detail
from the corresponding grade of flats in the English and Scottish
cities. Those gentlemen who are now studying the subject on
behalf of the commission will, however, be the best judges of
the .relative merits of both systems, when it comes to a ques-
tion of enabling the artisan tenant of a great " flat ' house
to realize a sense of security, comfort, and isolation when he
gets back to his dwelling after his day's labor has terminated.

Even in places where the model block system is the most
suitable, it will be seen, by reference to the illustration of the
Familistere building in Guise, that much may be done by the
adoption of an intelligent plan, to make such edifices some-
thing more than mere prisons of brick and mortar. The Fami-
listere is a little town unto itself. It contains nurseries,
schools, a theatre, a gymnasium, pleasure grounds, covered in
and open, fountains, playgrounds, baths, laundries, stores of all
kinds, and in fact every convenience of life for the residents.
All the tenements have balconies opening on the courts and
pleasure grounds. This set of buildings was put up by a

n8 HOUSING OF THE PEOPLE IN GREAT CITIES. [Oct.

private philanthropist, who looks more for beneficial results
to the Inhabitants than a high rate of returns ; and its
management is in the hands of a number of members of the
Familistere. It is, in fact, a sort of social experiment in the
art of home-making and scientific housing.

The country which has done most toward the solution of
this all-important question is, however, Belgium. In a future
paper we shall devote some space to an examination of the
present position of the housing problem in that country, and
the salutary legislation by means of which the toilers have
been rescued from the hands of grasping landlords and avari-
cious speculators.

Very important enterprises for the bettering of the condi-
tion of the toilers in New York, in the matter of housing, now
claim the attention of wage-earners. One of these is known
as the City and Suburban Homes Company, and at its head
are several gentlemen of well-known philanthropic views and
high commercial standing. It is the purpose of this association
to enable working people to become purchasers of desirable
homes on the easiest terms consistent with commercial sound-
ness. Still another enterprise is known as the New Orange
Industrial Association. The promoters have a larger ambition
than those of the first-named society, inasmuch as they propose
to start factories as well as found a city, giving employment to
those who take shares in their residential undertaking. They
have carried out a similar enterprise at Elmira, in the State
of New York, as they claim, with much success. A vast tract
of land has now been acquired by them in New Jersey, which
they propose to transform into the city of New Orange, and
make a place of great commercial activity as well as residen-
tial perfection. These enterprises appeal to the public on the
strength of their own intrinsic merits, and doubtless they will
be carefully considered, as they certainly appear to deserve.

Southey s Life of Nelson* is one of the latest ad-
ditions to Longmans' English Classics series. The
biography is introduced and annotated by Edwin
L. Miller, A.M. A biographical sketch of the
biographer is, the approved method of introduction
to these reproductions, and this method often helps to illustrate
the different notions of biographical depiction which may be
found at the opposite ends of a century. The modern method,
if less picturesque and glittering, contains more analysis and
tries to extend the search-light beneath the surface.

These reproductions, being intended for the use of teachers
and examination aspirants, are besprinkled with references and
collateral helps, comments on obsolete phrases, and remarks on
points in narrative construction. In this case some of these
are quips and quiddits merely, finical and pedantic. We are
pained to see that in one case the commentator attempts to mini-
mize the strong condemnation which Southey pronounced over
a very dark transaction of Nelson's life the murder of Prince
Caraccioli. There is no other word to describe the deed ; the
military juggle which gave the show of judicial proceeding to
the slaying of the Due d'Enghien was decency itself compared
to the infamy of the aged Caraccioli's death. The quarrel was
not Nelson's. Caraccioli had been pardoned by the King of
Naples, in whose interest England was then acting. Nelson
seized him, tore the pardon to pieces, brought him on board
his ship, gave him one hour to prepare his defence and prove
his innocence when he was miles distant from the shore and
then had him hanged and thrown into the sea ! A more in-
famous proceeding was never witnessed in the brutal annals of
war. Southey condemns it, as well as the whole of Nelson's
unworthy conduct at Naples, and Mr. Miller attempts to defend
Nelson.

With regard to the unjustifiable attack of England upon

* Robert Southey 's Life of Nelson. Edited, with notes and an introduction, by Edwin L.
Miller, A.M. New York : Longmans, Green & Co.

i2o TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.,

the Danish fleet at Copenhagen, in 1801, Southey cites nothing
to show that such a step without a declaration of war was not
a gross violation of the law of nations. The fact that Nelson
acted skilfully and heroically on that occasion is one that no-
body has attempted to deny. Nelson's own excuse to the
Danes, during the armistice, that the destruction of their fleet
and the slaughter of their men arose from fraternal anxiety
lest his brothers as he styled the Danes should fall victims
to Russian and Swedish intrigues was a shocking piece of
hypocrisy. England could not bear to see friend or enemy
strong at sea. Such a fact was in itself a sufficient excuse
with her in those days for any step in her power to take, no
matter what law it broke. Neither is it disputed that his skill
and bravery were fully equalled by 'that of the Danish fleet
and people, so that the Danish historians have fully as good a
right to claim the victory as the British have. Southey adopts
the English estimate of the losses in this action on either side
-nine hundred on the English side, six thousand on that of
the Danes. Thiers, in his Consulate and Empire, estimates the
English loss at twelve hundred, and that of the Danes about
the same. Alison's ratio is twelve hundred to six thousand. If
there was indeed such a disparity as Southey states it gives
color to a story we have heard, as transmitted from an old
sailor who had been in the fight. Immediately after the battle,
and during the armistice which followed, the Danes sent hand-
bills through the English fleet complaining bitterly of the use
of congreve rockets in the fight as an outrage on the laws of
war. There is no official chronicle of the use of these fear-
fully destructive missiles until the attack on Boulogne ; when
their frightful character was discovered the rockets were aban-
doned as contrary to the humanity of the age. If they were
used at Copenhagen, the fact would throw a new and baneful
light on Nelson's victory.

Nelson was a brave and able sailor, but he was not always
that scrupulous slave to honor which the poets and ballad-
makers represent him. His conduct toward his wife and the
wife of Sir William Hamilton was the reverse of heroic or hon-
orable. He was as vain as Voltaire, and he disgusted the Duke
of Wellington, the only time these distinguished men ever met,
by his boasting and childishness. These effeminate traits are
palpably visible in the specimens from his private correspon-
dence which Southey gives in the course of his eulogistic biogra-
phy. As a biography this work is too little of a nautical and

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 121

professional view of its subject ; as a mirror of the inner man,
or a psychological study, it is almost valueless.

Professor Everett Hale, Junior, of Union College, writes the
introduction and edits the text, in regard to another of Long-
mans' series Books I. and II. of Milton's Paradise Lost. Not
so much stress is laid upon the biographical part of the work
as upon the literary analysis of the text. Professor Hale is
not altogether enamored with the type of Puritan character
represented by John Milton. The Puritans generally, in Eng-
land and here, he finds, were men of strong character, having
pre-eminent faults and great virtues. These opposite traits
appear carried to their extremes in the personality of Milton.
While his poetry soars even to too high a pitch for the exalted
school in diction, his prose at times led him down into the
worst of gutter vilipend, as in his unworthy attack upon
Alexander Morus. A severe and unrelenting purist in morals,
he wrote four pamphlets on divorce of which his apologists
are ashamed. Chivalry had disappeared with the Cavaliers; the
Puritan theory with regard to woman was that she was an infe-
rior creation, not much better than a chattel commodity. This
spirit peeps through these discreditable pamphlets, the first of
which was written after his first wife, Mary Powell, had refused
to come back to the home she had left when she had been only
a month a bride, having got in that period quite enough of
Puritan society. Milton's political career forms no more pleas-
ing subject of contemplation. It embraced every gradation
from royalist to regicide; although in no step he ever took did
he ever act in any way but in strict accord with his con-
science. Professor Hale does well, then, to avoid any more
detailed reference to this part of his task. His comments on
the text of Paradise Lost will be found more immediately ser-
viceable. He dwells but slightly on the obvious connection
between Milton's work and the greater and earlier one of
Dante. How much both these lofty dreamers owed to a little-
heard-of Irish mystic of a much earlier age, St. Fursey, is a
subject which, may well occupy the attention of those who are
interested in the evolution of the epic.

Others of the Classics series just issued by the same firm
are: The Vicar of Wakefield, edited by Mary A. Jordan, A.M.;
Macaulays Life of Samuel Johnson, edited by Rev. Huber Gray
Buehler, and The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers from The
Spectator, edited by D. O. S. Lowell, A.M., M.D.

In the erudite paginatory notes of the last-named work we

122 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.,

notice an instance of imperfect acquaintance with well-known
historical facts. The annotator, treating of the Coronation Stone
in Westminster Abbey, discredits the tradition that asserts it
to be the monolith of which Jacob had made a pillow when
he beheld God in a vision, and which he anointed and set up
as a pillar to mark the spot. " The tradition," Dr. Lowell re-
marks, " lacks confirmation, for, as Sir Roger shrewdly implies,
there is no ' authority that Jacob ever was in Scotland.'
Addison's ignorance on the point was excusable, for history in
his day had no scientific basis ; Dr. Lowell's is astonishing. It
is well known that the Coronation Stone, which was brought
from Scotland as a trophy of victory by Edward I., was used
for the same purpose by the kings of Scotland when they were
crowned at Scone. It is now acknowledged that this stone
was brought from Ireland, where for centuries it had served a
similar purpose, by Edward Bruce. The tradition ran that it
was brought to Ireland by the sons of Milesius, who had
brought it from the East on one of his expeditions as general
of the Egyptian army. By the ancient Irish the stone was
called the Stone of Destiny (Lia Fail), and their reverence for
it was attested in the use to which alone it was put by their
Druids. The ceremony of coronation was performed while
the monarch's right foot rested upon this stone ; hence it was
regarded as a sacred thing by which the kings were sworn, so
to speak, and symbolic of a covenant between prince and
people.

The most remarkable controversy of recent years has been
waged in San Francisco, almost without intermission, from No-
vember, 1895, until now; in fact it is still going on, in the
phase of pursuit of the disrupted force by the victorious party.
It sprang out of the temerity of the American Protective Asso-
ciation in hiring a public hall in San Francisco for the pur-
pose of attacking Catholicity. It was not until public decency
was outraged by the stench of the slanders that the gauntlet
was picked up, but it was the hand of a doughty champion
which lifted it. The Rev. Peter C. Yorke, after having vainly
tried to get a hearing in one of the daily papers, whose columns
had been freely given to the ventilation of the slanders, by a
clever ruse got an opening in another, and from that time for-
ward the fight was lively. Father Yorke stood, like Bayard at
the Garigliano bridge, alone, and on his single shield he re-
ceived the thrusts of a host of enraged adversaries. But, un-

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 123

like Bayard, he not only kept the bridge but defeated his foes,
and, having sent them flying, is now in hot pursuit of the de-
moralized remnant. So untiring, so alert, so springy an antago-
nist as Father Yorke has probably never before been seen in
the polemical arena. We are glad that some permanent record
of this memorable tournament is begun. A handy book just
issued gives us a complete report of the last branch of it, un-
der the title of The Yorke-Wendte Controversy* the most re-
spectable phase of the series. Wendte is the name of a Unita-
rian doctor of divinity who last took up the cudgels which less
able and less reputable combatants had had stricken from their
hands, but it will be seen from his valedictory epistle that he
felt himself worsted.

Father Yorke had two distinct advantages in undertaking
the ungrateful task of squelching this brood of defamers whose
methods were those of the skunk. His mind is a veritable store-
house of historical fact, civil as well as ecclesiastical. His canon-
ry and theology are of the best equipment. He is thus easily
a match for an army of such half-read, crude, and slipshod va-
porers as those whom he has put to flight. In the second
place he possesses a decidedly useful literary style. He can be
practical, brief, and to the point where this manner is called
for ; but he possesses a fund of brilliant and scathing metaphor
and retort such as the witless and prosaic inanities who at first
challenged his pen could never have dreamed of when they set
out on their task. The controversy is lively reading, and we
anticipate a large sale for the first instalment of it. It would
be a pity that the discussion should not be available for future
use in its entirety.

At a time when a large section of the Anglican Church is
endeavoring to " live down ' the Reformation, and another
treating it as an affair of no doctrinal significance, it is useful
to have the sturdy work of William Cobbettf on that subject
republished. A popular edition of his history, with an intro-
duction and under the revision of the eminent scholar, Francis
Aidan Gasquet, D.D., O.S.B., has now made its appearance.
Cobbett's work was' a unique thing in history. It shows little
of the polished scholar, but plenty of the honest man indignant

* The Yorke- Wendte Controversy : Letters on the Papal Primacy and the Relations of
Church and State. By Rev. Charles W. Wendte, D.D., and Rev. Peter C. Yorke. San
Francisco : Monitor Publishing Company.

t A History of the Protestant Reformation in England and Ireland. By William Cob-
bett. A new edition, revised, with notes and preface, by Francis Aidan Gasquet, D.D.,
O.S.B. New York : Benziger Brothers.

124 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.,

at the unmerited slanders heaped upon his fellow-subjects who
differed from him in religion, and the cruel injustices to
which they were subjected. But there was even more than
this at work in Cobbett's mind when he took pen in hand in
defence of the calumniated and plundered Catholics. He was-
acute enough to perceive that the far-reaching miseries of the
social system in Great Britain, the degradation of the working
classes, and the horrible cancer of the pauper organization had
their direct origin in the process called the Reformation ; and
he did not hesitate to arraign the heirs of that movement and
the legatees of its enormous spoils, in Anglo-Saxon oftener re-
markable for aptitude than elegance. Some of his language has
been revised by Dom Gasquet ; in other passages where emascu-
lation would have destroyed its effect he allows the text to
stand. An alteration has also been made in the form of the
matter, the several sections which formerly appeared in the
shape of letters being now presented as serial chapters. The
learned editor has likewise thought it well to omit the second
part of the original history, which comprised the list of the
religious houses suppressed in the reign of Henry VIII. To
the American reader this will especially be a loss, as a full
catalogue of those establishments, their approximate revenues,
and the charitable, educational, and hospital work performed
by each, would be read, we are confident, with the keenest
interest. If Dom Gasquet be enabled to produce another edi-
tion of this valuable work, we would earnestly hope he may
reconsider the propriety of this important omission.

The versatile patriotism and pen of Edna Lyall have been
turned toward Armenia. In a little brochure in the form of a
novelette * she gives us a graphic picture of the late reign of
horror in that miserable country which certainly does not err
in the direction of exaggeration. Though the style is worthy
of the writer's literary reputation, the work, however, is disap-
pointing. It is too inconsiderable for a romance, and too
scrappy for a sketch. A powerful romance founded on Ar-
menian events of recent times might easily be written by one
who to a facile pen added an intimate knowledge of the coun-
try, the people, and the administrative system. We can only
hope that Edna Lyall's work will be helpful in some measure
in drawing renewed attention to the frightful danger to civili-
zation existent in the rule of the barbarous Turks over Chris-
tian people in any numbers.

* The Autobiography of a Truth. By Edna Lyall. New York : Longmans, Green & Co.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 125

The more we look at the formidable obstacles which beset
the early days of Christianity, the more we marvel at the fact
that it triumphed in such a comparatively short period as it
did over systems whose roots were struck so widely, so deeply,
and so inseparably as the ancient pagan cults. Little has as
yet been done to help our imagination in realizing the fright-
ful nature of the struggle between the new and the old forces,
but what has been done, in the pages of Fabiola, Dion and the
Sibyls, Aurelia, and one or two more books, reveals the vast-
ness and richness of the field which lies ready for the harvest-
ing of the capable pen. The Catholic Truth Society of Eng-
land has just issued a new effort in this neglected field. It is
a brief romance, entitled Claudius : *A Sketch from the First
Century* by C. M. Home. Paul's sally into Ephesus and Rome
is the motive of the tale, and the disintegrating action of the
small rivulet of Christianity upon the rocks of a prehistoric
paganism is vividly shown in the mental struggles of the Gen-
tiles and Jews of different ranks who compose the personnel of
this drama. Many events of note are embraced in the story
amongst others the martyrdom of Peter and Paul and the chief
features of the frightful persecution begun by Nero. No height-
ening of natural effect is sought for in the literary treatment ;
the style is simple, and it conveys its own impressions with a
force all the greater, perhaps, because of that fact. The
draughtsmanship of the figure of Paul is a masterly piece of
work, and cannot but be helpful in bringing before the mind's
eye with vividness the power and greatness of mind and soul
of that great pillar of the Church Universal. Fine clear type
and good paper make the book attractive to the eye. Such
work as this proves that the Catholic Truth Society knows
what class of literary production finds most favor with the
readers of to-day, when slovenliness of production and sloppi-
ness in printing will no longer be tolerated.

i. FATHER TANQUEREY'S THEOLOGY.f

As promised last year when Dr. Tanquerey's two volumes
on Special Dogmatic Theology appeared, he has now given us
a volume which may be called the preliminary of these. As

* Claudius : A Sketch from the First Century. By C. M. Home. London: Catholic
Truth Society, 21 Westminster Bridge Road, S.E.

t Synopsis Theologies Dogmaticce Fundamental, ad Mentent S. Thomce Aquinatis, Hodi-
ernis Moribus Accommodata. De Vera Religione, de Ecclesia Christi, de Fontibus Theologi-
cis. Auctore Ad. Tanquerey, S.S. Tornaci (Belg.) : Desclee, Lefebvre et Soc. Baltimore,
Md. : St. Mary's Seminary; New York and Chicago : Benziger Brothers.

126 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct. y

its title tells us, it is fundamental, dealing with the ground-
work doctrines of religion and belief. It embraces treatises on
the True Religion, on the Church of Christ, and on the
Sources of Theological Knowledge, forming the strongest
kind of an argument not only for the truth of the Christian
religion but also for unity among all who profess that religion.
The book appears in the same attractive dress and with that
evidence of having been written for American students of these
latest days which characterized them, and which was noted by
Father Hewit in his review of these books last year.

Not a small instance of the up-to-date character of Dr.
Tanquerey's work is that numerous notes are culled from
modern writers in English, a fact that, at first, to those fa-
miliar with Latin text-books of theology, may appear odd, but
not, for that reason, any the less pleasing. The volume is in
a way more important than the previous ones, for it includes
arguments, in the first place, against those who deny the divinity
of religion : i. e^ the Rationalists ; in the second place, against
those who impugn the infallible authority of the church; and in
the third, against those who refuse obedience to the supreme
head of the church= i. e., the Greek schismatics. The opponents
met in the other books attacked only particular dogmas; the
opponents we have to deal with here attempt the destruction
of all revealed religion.

We can notice only a few points ; but before doing so we
would wish to call attention to a feature of great utility, name-
ly, the list of works prefixed to each treatise, as valuable for
consultation on the matter in hand. These lists embrace not
only ancient and modern Catholic writers, but also many non-
Catholics whose works may be read to advantage.

Rationalism, to all appearances, is the intellectual move-
ment of importance into which the deepest minds outside the
Catholic Church have been drawn. On account of this the first
of the three parts of the book is of exceptional worth because
of the opposition which must be made to this revivified enemy.
In his historical review of Rationalism, brief but explicit, Dr.
Tanquerey shows us its rise in the first ages of the church, its
existence in the middle ages, and points out how, after the
Reformation, gaining a new vigor, it spread from Germany to
Italy and to England, and from England to France, and finally,
in these latter days, to America, although Germany still re-
mains the armory (p. 54) whence are drawn the chief weapons
and ammunition for the rationalists' attacks. The author re-

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 127

cognizes that just here is where the religious combat is to be
fought to-day more than at any previous time between the
claims of reason and revelation. As he says : " From this brief
review we can gather that revelation has been unceasingly at-
tacked even from the beginning and throughout the centuries,
but in our day more frequently and by more opponents than
ever' (p. 56).

Philosophical Rationalism is the most radical form of this
disease, and it is accurately diagnosed, from a rationalistic
stand-point, in words given us in one of Dr. Tanquerey's notes
(History of the Rise and Spirit of Rationalism, Lecky, New York,
1893, pp. 181-184): "Its central conception is the elevation of
conscience into a position of supreme authority as the religious
organ, a verifying faculty discriminating between truth and
error. . . ., Religion it believes to be no exception to the
general laws of progress, but rather the highest form of its
manifestation, and its earlier systems but the necessary steps of
an imperfect development. . . . (Rationalism) is no longer
exclusively negative and destructive, but is, on the contrary, in-
tensely positive, and in its moral aspect intensely Christian. It
clusters around a series of essentially Christian conceptions
equality, fraternity, the suppression of war, the elevation of the
poor, the love of truth, the diffusion of liberty. It revolves
around the ideal of Christianity, and represents its spirit with-
out its dogmatic system and its supernatural narratives ' (p. 58).

The backbone of such a system is simply the denial of the
existence, of the necessity, and even of the possibility of reve-
lation. On these three special points Dr. Tanquerey has several
theses, but to consider their lines of development would be out
of the question here. Suffice it to say that, in view of the
advances of rationalism among non-Catholics, a Catholic text-
book which considers the latest forms of the objections to
revelation is of notable importance.

The stir now felt at home and abroad as to the matter of
Christian unity adds a new interest to the section of the book
taken up with this question. The world's history could contain
no sadder story than that embraced in the brief historical
sketch earlier in the volume, which brings to mind the great
variety of sects among those Christians who are without the
pale of the Catholic Church. The almost innumerable divisions
and subdivisions, down even to the members of the Salvation
Army, who are described in Csesarean language as those " qui
ad modum exercitus duces et centuriones habent," make not

128 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.,

only our Holy Father and Catholics in general, but also all
Protestants who in their hearts seek to preserve the oneness of
the Body of Christ, pause to consider in what way the words
of the Master may at length be realized when there shall be
"one fold and one shepherd." Concessions perhaps in some de-
tails can be made ; but when all points are considered, when
history and theology have mustered their forces, when the
words of Scripture are read aright, when all helps possible are
brought into play by which we may learn the will of Jesus
Christ, the author of Christianity, we think that the conclusion
to which Dr. Tanquerey gives expression is the only one that
can be reached. The crux of the whole matter is the question
of an infallible supremacy. By those who wish for reunion
that Rubicon, at least, must be crossed. As our author puts it :
"All the followers of Christ must acknowledge the authority
of him who has been constituted by the Master the supreme
pastor of all. This Scripture teaches ; this the holy Fathers,
the illustrious Doctors, the chief Christians of all times have
held ; and so all may be united in the bond of charity which
is preserved only with difficulty where internal union of faith
and external unity of government are wanting. Nor will then
the Gospel liberty be lost, for even under the rule of a supreme
pastor the word still holds : * In necessariis unitas, in dubiis
libertas, in omnibus caritas ' (p. 442).

The author's explanations of many particular questions of
interest, such as the rule of faith, infallibility, the axiom " Ex-
tra ecclesiam nulla salus," the relations of church and state,
the bearings of the church upon liberty of conscience, would
form excellent matter for our consideration, but we can only
mention them in passing. The last two topics mentioned should
be for us in America, where the questions are always live ones,
matters of special study. Though we cannot give here Dr.
Tanquerey's development of the argument, we can recommend
the perusal of his words to any one who wishes a summary of
the principles of the discussion. As he tells us himself, his
theses are based upon the ideas put forth by Leo XIII. in his
two famous encyclicals, Immortale Dei and Libertas.

The various rights and duties of church and state depend
upon the condition of the state with which the church in this
or that case has relations. Thus, the rights and duties of a
Catholic state would differ from those of a non-Catholic ; and
again, those of a Protestant state would not be the same as
those of an indifferent, nor yet again of an infidel state. It is,

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 129

at times, difficult to draw the lines exactly, especially in the?
short treatment of a text-book, but the general principles are
plain, concise, and clear-cut.

As can be seen, therefore, the present volume has to do
with the primary truths, the first principles of religion ; it shapes
the foundation-stones of the edifice. These are the first things
that must be made known in the gospel of regeneration. And
for this reason, because it deals in a masterly treatment with
fundamentals, it should be welcomed as a new aid by those of
us who are " fishers of men," who are striving to make known
to others without the fold the majesty of Divine Truth and
the beauty of Christ's Church.

2. REICHEL'S MANUAL OF CANON LAW.*

It is a cheering augury of the immediate future to find a
Protestant scholar and divine of eminence taking up the study
of Canon Law in the hope that his work may be helpful
toward the great object of church unity. This, we learn from
the preface, has been the impelling motive with the author ;
and we may add in all sincerity that the spirit in which the
work was begun is steadfastly adhered to in the endeavor to
avoid mere controversy in the discussion of the origin and his-
tory of the sacraments of the church, to which the first volume
is devoted. Deep and painstaking erudition is manifest in the
book throughout, and there is no note of the odium theologicum
audible anywhere. The examination of authorities is exhaus-
tive, and the explanatory notes furnish a great work taken by
themselves. So far as the exposition of the sacramental mys-
teries is concerned, there is very much to be commended, from
a Catholic stand-point, in this learned volume a fact which sug-
gests the question why theologians who agree so closely with
Catholic teaching are content to remain apart from the church
to which by their own admissions they believe themselves of
right to belong. But we must not desire to do more, perhaps,
than hasten slowly. The process of unification appears to be
working in its own way, so that when the time comes for the
final closing of the fissure of ages, it may be accomplished
without the earthquake by which that fissure was effected.

* A Complete Manual of Canon Law. By Oswald J. Reichel, M.A., B.C.L., F.S.A.
London : John Hodges, Bedford Street, Strand.

VOL. LXIV. 9

130 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Oct.

3. DE SPONSALIBUS ET MATRIMONIO.*

The name of Dr. De Becker, of Louvain University, is known
to all students of canonical jurisprudence, and the eminent pro-
fessor's reputation as an exponent of civil law is not less in
the mouths of scholars. His new work on the critical subject of
betrothal and matrimony is a most valuable acquisition to the
theological literature of the time. It is needless to expatiate on
the jealous care with which the church regards the matrimonial
institution, and the safeguards with which she has surrounded
the conditions attaching to it. The circumstances of society
and the shifting of centres of population consequent on the
changes in trade and the policy of nations are elements which
exercise, however, a potent influence on the social contract.
Modern conditions especially often give rise to circumstances
which render necessary modifications in the less vital principles
which the church originally laid down relative to her discipline
in regard to the marriage contract the rules on consanguinity,
for instance, in its remoter affiliations. Every delicate com-
plication which can arise is anticipated and dealt with in this
most valuable treatise. It is not merely an exposition of the
canon law, in all its wide network of provisions, but it contains
besides a multitude of explanations, reflections, and suggestions
on points which modify the application of the law, or call for
emendation in its provisions in order to keep pace with the
imperative requirements of modern life. It is a legal as well
as a theological treatise. It is, moreover, a valuable historical
document, tracing the development of the law back to the
various Decretals, (Ecumenical Councils, decisions of the Ro-
man Congregations, and Papal Constitutions, which form the
precedents or authoritative foundations on which the structure
rests. The work, which is a fine example of the typographical
art, is divided into ten sections, and contains five hundred and
forty-eight pages of letter-press. The sections are ranged under
the following heads: I. Affiancing; 2. Marriage considered in
general ; 3. Hindering obstacles ; 4. Prohibitive obstacles ; 5.
Dispensations ; 6. Duties of the priest and those of the peni-
tent ; 7. The (legal) effects of marriage ; 8. Of second marriages ;
9. Of divorce ; 10. The judicial procedure in the matters of
affiance and espousal.

* De Sponsalibus et Matrimonio prcelectiones canoniaz. By Julius de Becker. Bruxelles,
Societe beige de Librairie.

WHEN the public schools of New York were
reopened, in the middle of September, it was
found that over fifty thousand children would
have to be left out, as there was not sufficient school-accommo-
dation. There is a law by which parents who neglect to send
their children to school can be punished, but we have yet to
learn of a legislative enactment designed to reach those who
neglect to provide schools for the children who would attend.

As far as numbers in attendance, enthusiasm, and dignity
in procedure could make it a success, the Convention of the
Irish Race, held in Dublin in September, was all that could be
desired. The assembly was presided over by the Bishop of
Raphoe, the Most Rev. Dr. O'Donnell, and about four hundred
priests were among the delegates, who aggregated something
over two thousand. But only forty-three members of the Irish
Parliamentary Party responded to the invitation to be present
at the deliberations. Those who sulked or absented themselves
were the followers of the two malcontent politicians, Messrs.
John Redmond and T. M. Healy. Mr. John Dillon offered to
retire from the chairmanship of the Irish party if the dissen-
tients would agree to unite under another leader, but as all
efforts at unification by conciliatory means proved futile, it is
to be feared that another bitter campaign for the expulsion of
the fractious members is before the Irish people.

Cardinal Satolli has given place, as Apostolic Delegate, to
Archbishop Martinelli, and it is safe to say that no represen-
tative of the Holy See ever took leave of a trust leaving a
better impression or a higher reputation behind him than his
Eminence. He has been a Daniel in the judgment seat, a magi-
cian in the social circle. In him there was shown the happiest
combination of the legist, the scholar, the priest, and the pol-
ished gentleman. He has set a high standard for the delega-
tory office, yet from all that is known of the career of Arch-

132 EDITORIAL NOTES. [Oct.,

bishop Martinelli, his successor, we may predict that that stand-
ard will again be realized in the choice of the Sovereign Pontiff.

We are pleased to announce that we have entered into an
arrangement with the Catholic Truth Society of England
whereby we shall be enabled to immediately place the literary
products of that organization before the public here. In the
substantial work of the Apostolate of the Press between that so-
ciety and ourselves complete harmony exists. Our aim is
identical ; our methods agree in principle ; we simply strengthen
our forces in entering into an alliance for the wider dissemina-
tion of knowledge on those subjects which concern Christianity
at large. We are firm believers in the invincible power of
Catholic truth, and in the efficacy of proclaiming it with-
out giving offence to any. The results already achieved by
the Catholic Truth Society in Great Britain are highly gratify-
ing. Its publications are numerous and diversified bulky and
pithy, historical and dialectical, theological and doctrinal.
They represent the brightest Catholic intellect in the British
Isles, and touch upon many things that possess a profound in-
terest for Christians of all denominations everywhere.

We continue to devote considerable space to the ventilation
of topics connected with the great social problems of the day ;
and we intend to make such a discussion a regular feature in
successive issues as long as the public interest and that of mor-
ality demand it. In this number the important question of the
housing of the people is again treated, and we shall return to
the subject, as we believe there is none which more demands
a fearless exposure of abuses and a constant watchfulness on
the part of a really disinterested press. W T e shall present other
branches of the Christian social advance, as they have developed
themselves the Catholic bank system, the questions of food
preparation, domestic hygiene, and cognate matters.

Mr. Henry Austin Adams, it will be seen, begins his pro-
mised series of papers on various aspects of Protestantism
in this month's issue. We know these papers will be read with
great pleasure by all our regular readers, and believe they are
certain to be regarded with interest by every class.

1896.] LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS. 133

AUTHENTIC SKETCHES OF LIVING CATHOLIC

AUTHORS.

WITH this opening number of the sixty-fourth volume of THE CATHOLIC
WORLD MAGAZINE we begin anew department devoted to short biographies
of living Catholic writers, particularly those who belong to our own staff of con-
tributors.

In each succeeding number of the magazine we shall present three or more
sketches drawn from the most authentic sources, so that every statement made
can be relied upon as being strictly accurate. In doing this we feel that we are
doing- a work that will awaken a deeper interest in Catholic literature.

Much of the charm of what is written depends on who writes it. When we
know something of the personality and environment of our authors we are apt to
appreciate the more what they have to tell us. Names count for a great deal
these days in magazine literature, and names are made as much by a better
knowledge of the detail of an author's life as by the merit of what he writes. A
picturesque and romantic life and surroundings contribute a charm to the well-
told story, while a scholarly environment adds a force to the theological essay or
the philosophical paper.

In this new department that we are inaugurating we shall undertake to make
Catholic authors better known. We believe that thereby we are contributing not
a little to the interest in and value of Catholic literature. It has been no small
part of the literary propaganda which THE CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE has
undertaken to foster literary ability and encourage the talented author who has
yet to achieve a name. And many of the best-known writers in our modern
American literature have begun the lower rungs of their literary fame in the
pages of THE CATHOLIC WORLD.

We call attention to the fact that the peculiar merit that these pen sketches
possess is their accuracy. Ultimately as the months go by we shall be able to
compile a complete history of Catholic litterateurs which will be exceedingly
valuable.

GORNELIUS M. O'LEARY, M.D., Ph.D., LL.D., was born in
the town of Kanturk, County Cork, Ireland, in the year 1839.
Here his father conducted what was known as a classical school,
wherein Greek, Latin, and French were principally taught, and
the son, having begun his studies at an early age, soon ac-
quired a fair knowledge of these languages. The family came
to this country in 1852, and Cornelius, after a few weeks' per-
functory attendance at the public school, entered St. Francis
Xavier's College, of which the late Father Ryan, subsequently
founder of the parish of the Immaculate Conception, was presi-
dent. Here he remained for some months, when the family
moved to Jersey City, and Cornelius attended the parish school
in company with Rev. Henry A. Brann, D.D. Dr. Brann's

134

AUTHENTIC SKETCHES OF

[Oct.,

brother James conducted the school, and Rev. Father Kelly,
brother to the late Eugene Kelly, was rector of St. Peter's
Church, the only Catholic Church then in Jersey City. Thence
he went to the University of Notre Dame du Lac, which was
then in its infancy, surrounded by dense woods and endless
stretches of prairie land, and giving but little promise of the
magnificent buildings and cultivated lands he saw there last
June, after an absence of forty-two years. After two years he
went to the old Sulpitian College, College Street, in a part of
the city known as Griffintown. Of the old college no trace
exists to-day. Here he spent four years, and graduated at the
head of his class in 1857. He then studied theology at Ford-

ham for three
when that in-
to exist he,
his views as to
entered the
ment of the
the City of
which then
Tammany Hall
ent, and gradu-
cine in 1864.
year he began
Manhattan Col-
ever since re-
ed to that in-
fessor of vari-
In 1863 he be-
for the now de-

DR. CORNELIUS M. O'LEARY,
New York.

years, and

stitution ceased
having changed
his vocation,
medical depart-
University of
New York,
stood where
stands at pres-
ated in medi-
In that same
to teach in
lege, and has
mained attach-
stitution as pro-
ous branches,
gan to write
funct National

Quarterly Review, to which he contributed articles on a variety
of subjects, and having written one on the sanitary condition
of cities, he obtained a position in the Board of Health in
1869, and this he held for two years. When the recent
Board of Pharmacy was created in 1871 he was appointed
one of the medical commissioners of the Board in conjunction
with Dr. Robert Ogden Doremus. He began to write for THE
CATHOLIC WORLD in 1874, his first article being a review of
the late Dr. John W. Draper's work on the " conflict between
science and religion." In all he contributed about twenty arti-
cles to the pages of THE CATHOLIC WORLD. In 1877 he under-
took a course of lectures in the Academy of Mount St. Vincent,
and these he continued for a period of nine years. For two

1896.]

LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS.

135

years he was medical attendant to the Convent of the Sacred
Heart, Manhattanville. He has written editorial articles for the
Catholic Review steadily for the last ten years. He has been
an occasional contributor to the Quarterly Journal of Comparative
Anatomy and Physiology, and wrote a few articles for the
American Catholic Quarterly. For a number of years he repre-
sented Manhattan College at the annual sessions of the convo-
cation of the University of the State of New York, and read
a large number of papers which were afterwards published in
the proceedings of that body.

CHARLES WARREN CURRIER came into the world in 1857,

the Island of
West Indies,
of birth. On
he is of Ameri-
ing back to the
the colonization
land. After
studies among
torists in Hol-
dained priest in
Amsterdam on
1880, and soon
for Surinam in
where he re-
months, when
to the United
tinued to la-
Redemptorists,

REV. CHARLES W. CURRIER,
Necker, Md.

St. Thomas,
being his place
his father's side
can origin, go-
early period of
of New Eng-
completing his
the Redemp-
land, he was or-
their church at
November 24,
afterward he left
South America,
mained thirteen
he was sent
States. He con-
bor among the
giving missions

and retreats, attending to parochial duties, and filling, for a short
time, the position of professor of philosophy, until January, 1892,
when he entered the diocese of Baltimore. In that year he went
to Spain, being interested in the American Historical Exhibition
of Madrid, and also to assist at the International Congress of
Americanists at Huelva, in Andalusia. His literary labors date
back to 1884, when he wrote a life of the Redemptorist father,
Francis Poilvache, a small work which, a few years later, appeared
anonymously. The first product of his pen appeared in the
Ave Maria about the same time. Since then he has contributed
to the best mediums of current literature papers on a variety
of topics. These avenues of publication include some of our
secular papers as well as Catholic periodicals. In the winter

136

.AUTHENTIC SKETCHES OF

[Oct.,

of 1893-4 he was editorial writer for the Catholic Mirror, be-
sides doing other literary work. The first volume from his pen
appeared in 1890. It is a history of the Discalced Carmelites in
the United States, entitled Carmel in America. This was fol-
lowed in 1894 by Dimitrios and Irene, a historical romance
dealing with the fall of Constantinople, and a few months later
appeared the History of Religious Orders.

Father Currier, besides his historical and literary work, has
also delivered a number of lectures; namely, at the Catholic
Summer-School of America, in Boston, Washington, Baltimore,
Detroit, New York, and Brooklyn. He has ready for the press
another historical romance, entitled The Rose of Alhama, or the
Conquest of Granada, and he is engaged in preparing a histori-
cal work, the subject of which is known only to himself and a
few of his immediate friends.

MARY T. WAGGAMAN is the daughter of Dr. Samuel Wagga-

man, of Wash-
From early
imagination was
inal ; her games
all being fan-
tures from ju-
tracks."
poetical effort,
tion Song," in-
" wicked witch"
childish drama,
power even in
startled the eld-
ence. Her ear-
was conducted
where she was
the higher class-
town Convent,

MARY T. WAGGAMAN,
Washington, D.C.

ington, D. C.
childhood her
vivid and orig-
and her plays
ciful depar-
venile " beaten
Her first
" An Incanta-
voking the

of an original
had a weird
its crudity that
ers in her audi-
ly education
chiefly at home,
prepared for
es of George-
through which

she passed with marked success, taking the first and senior
course in one year, and graduating with the highest honors of
the academy. Here, too, her valedictory, by its striking and
graceful variations on a worn-out theme, attracted the comment
of the Catholic press. Since leaving school, though by no
means a recluse or a stranger to the pleasures of her age, she
has continued her studies on broad lines of her own choosing.
Light reading, except by acknowledged masters of style,

1896.] LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS. 137

has no charm for her ; she seems irresistibly attracted into paths
beyond the realm of facts and figures, and delights in following
the great leaders of thought poets, philosophers, theologians-
to the heights from which they take their broad outlook on the
world's shifting scenes. Happily, she is a devout Catholic, and
carries into this debatable land, where so many brilliant young
minds have gone astray, the light of a faith that cannot mis-
lead.

The subject of this sketch is not to be confounded with her
mother, Mary T. Waggaman, a writer of some name whose
work has been confined principally to stories and papers of a
more popular sort. But Mary T. Waggaman the younger has
chosen the higher paths and has earned a reputation as a poet
of undoubted genius and is possessed of remarkable gifts of
nature.

In person, Miss Waggaman is a tall, slender brunette. Her
face, thoughtful even to sadness in repose, flashes under ani-
mation into life and vivacity that transform it almost beyond
recognition. Her home is a rambling, old-fashioned mansion
on Georgetown Heights, shaded by oaks of a century's growth,
and commanding a beautiful stretch of the Potomac a fitting
place for a young poet to work and dream. Kindly as her
early work has been received and she is often dissatisfied
with it herself I do not think a young writer could possibly
be more free from any touch of self complacency. She has
read so much, and studied so thoughtfully the great masters of
song, that she feels, with their immortal music sounding in
her ears, she is as yet only a child in this beautiful school.

Our readers will recall with no little interest the poems
she has published in THE CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE during
the past year. They manifest a superior order of thought,
seemingly akin to one of the maturest years and entirely ex-
traordinary in one who is still on the eastern slope. The
flashes of poetic fire are unmistakable, and when maturer years
will have refined and polished her work we can easily bespeak
for her a prominent place in the temple of fame.

138 WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. [Oct.,

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY.

THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS AND THE CATHOLIC

SCHOOLS IN NEW YORK.

(Albert Shaw, Editor of the Review of Reviews, in the New York Journal?)

THE State and City of New York long ago committed themselves to the policy
of providing ample means for the elementary education of all who desired to
patronize the public schools. For a long time free public instruction was provided
as a privilege to be voluntarily availed of by the families of rich or poor. But
gradually there developed a strong sentiment in favor of universal education, and
this sentiment became crystallized at length in the form of statutes making school
attendance compulsory for all children.

The State and City of New York took the position that it was their business
to provide schools, to determine how and what the children should be taught-j-and
to see that none escaped instruction. There is much to be said in favor of com-
pulsory education, apd there is also much to be said on the other side. All things
considered, I should be inclined to support the principle that it is the duty of the
state or the municipality to see that no child is deprived of his right to grow up an
intelligent, well-instructed citizen.

But when the community has gone so far as to organize the administrative
machinery of compulsory education, with a corps of truant officers on duty to see
that parents do not evade the law, let it be remembered that the community has
assumed a very serious responsibility. It has Jpecome morally responsible, not
only for the provision of an ample number of p^fperly constructed school-houses,
and the employment of an ample number of well-qualified teachers, but it has also
put itself under the plainest kind of obligation to adapt its teaching in these pub-
lic schools to the real needs of the people who are compelled to patronize them.
It is a contemptible shame and fraud to set up the machinery of compulsory edu-
cution in the City of New York with no proper equipment of school-houses, with
no adequate corps of teachers, with no broad and comprehensive scheme for mak-
ing school instruction fit the real and practical needs of the boys and girls of this
great metropolis.

If the community had not committed itself to the policy of providing for the
instruction of the children of New York, it is fairly to be assumed that provision
would have been made in some other way. The great voluntary agencies prin-
cipally the different religious denominations are still providing one-half of the
elementary school facilities of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.
The public schools, or so-called board schools, provide the other half. In New
York a considerable proportion of the children of Catholic parents go to the
parochial schools, supported by the contributions of members of the Roman Cath-
olic Church these members at the same time pledged to pay their share of taxes
for the support of the free public schools. It is entirely within the rights of
these Catholic people, at any moment, to close their separate schools and to in-
sist upon school-house space for their children, with adequate instruction, in the
buildings provided under the free public-school system of New York. Nothing in
our educational system is designed to encourage these voluntary and denomina-
tional schools, while a great deal is done to discourage them and to make their
maintenance difficult.

1896.] NEW BOOKS. 139

But what would happen if it should suddenly be decided by the Roman
Catholic authorities that they would use their school buildings for other parochial
purposes, and send their children to the free public schools ? The existing con-
gestion, enormous as it is, would simply be made worse to the extent of many
thousands more of children. Under the auspices of that well-known organiza-
tion, the Children's Aid Society, and also under control of one or two other
charitable organizations, there have now for some years been maintained in New
York a number of private free schools, which, in the aggregate, provide for many
thousands of children. It has lately been urged upon these societies with much
plausibility that there is no reason why they should continue their strictly educa-
tional work, and that it would be much better for them to close it out and allow
the public-school system to take care of the army of little folks for whose instruc-
tion the societies are now providing. What would happen if these voluntary
schools should be closed ?

The simple fact is that the community has adopted principles, in this matter
of elementary education, which it has failed fairly and honorably to put into prac-
tice. It has gone so far with its scheme of free elementary education, supported
by taxation, as effectually to discourage the development of any competing or
collateral system of education, comparable with the parish schools of England,
for example. But, on the other hand, it has not gone nearly far enough to meet
the imperative demands of the situation. It meets the honest and hopeful immi-
grant with the boast and the promise that in our free American schools his chil-
dren shall have a better chance for instruction and for advancement in life than
the children of the poor could possibly have in Europe. Yet when term-time
begins the chances are that these very children can find no place at all in the
overcrowded school-rooms of the East side. On the other hand, we have said to
.the less desirable type of immigrant, who wishes to exploit the labor of his chil-
dren rather than to send them to school, that education in this community is com-
pulsory and his children must 'without fail give up their work in shop or factory
and report at the school-house door. But this demand on him becomes only a
mockery when it appears that the threatened schools are not provided.

Any young person of school age in . New York City who wants to attend
school, whether in the day hours or in the evening, and is not admitted because
of lack of room, is defrauded of his most sacred rights. Every parent who wants
to send his children to the schools of New York and can find no comfortable and
convenient place for them in those schools, has a grievance so serious as to justify
almost any kind of charge of bad faith against the community.

NEW BOOKS.

SILVER, BURDETT & Co., New York, Boston, Chicago :

Fundamental Ethics. By Rev. William Poland.
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & Co., Boston and New York :

Moral Evolution. By Professor George Harris.
ARENA PUBLISHING COMPANY, Boston:

Immigration Fallacies. By John Chetwood, Jr.
JOSEPH SCHAEFER, New York:

Devotion to the Miraculous Infant Jesus of Prague.
E. T. CLARKE & Co., Reading, Mass.:

Cheerful Philosophy for Thoughtful Invalids. By William Horatio Clarke.
R. WASHBOURNE, Paternoster Row, London :

On Humility. By Father Alexis Bulens, O.S.F.
BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York, Cincinnati, Chicago :

The Following of Christ, Edition de luxe, with' half-tone illustrations. Mr,
Billy Buttons. By Walter Lecky. The Vocation of Edward Conivay.
By Maurice F. Egan.

140 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Oct.,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

THE American Social Science Association assembled for what is called "the
general meeting" at Grand Army Hall, Saratoga Springs, N. Y., beginning
Monday, August 31, and closing Friday, September 4. Tile opening address was
made by the president of the association, Dr. F. J. Kingsbury, of Waterbury,
Conn. His theme was A Sociological Retrospect, and it was a condense.d sum-
mary of the more important events of the century just now closing which have
a marked sociological bearing. He divided the time into periods of twenty-five
years, and considered the events under the divisions adopted by the association in
its annual programme. He first considered the conditions of the country at the
period between the close of the Revolution and the adoption of the Constitution,
and pointed out the difficulties that beset the formation of a stable government
from the heterogeneous material of thirteen colonies, covering sixteen degrees of
latitude, each having its own interesting traditions and habits of life. He then
spoke of the influence of early improvement in the means of travel, such as great
roads, canals, and improved river navigation, by which the interior of the country
was opened to immigration, and the widely separated parts brought in closer
relation to each other. Passing to the health department, he depicted the uni-
versal dread of small-pox and the blessings of vaccination. Then he reviewed
the advance of education, particularly on the scientific and professional side.

In the second quarter he noted the abolition of the stocks and whipping-post,
and of imprisonment for debt ; the introduction of the joint-stock law and the
growing recognition of the evils of slavery. The introduction of public water-
works in cities, and of gas and friction matches ; the development of the sewing-
machine and its influence on woman's work ; the introduction of the railroad and
the telegraph, and the great temperance movement of 1840, were sketched in out-
line.

This finished the first half-century. In the next quarter President Kingsbury
noted the introduction of the rule permitting parties to a suit to testify ; also the
changes in law and custom as affecting both married and single women; the
abolition of negro slavery, the progress in international arbitration, the expansion
of the applications of electricity, the discovery of anaesthetics in surgery and the
adoption of the germ theory in medicine. He closed with a resume of general
progress, and a comment on some accidental developments in society which have
accompanied these movements.

Sessions were held by the various departments as follows :

TUESDAY. Address by the chairman, Rev. Dr. Joseph Anderson, of Water-
bury, Ct. A paper by Professor Daniel Quinn, Ph.D., of the Catholic University,
Washington, D. C., on The Duty of Higher Education in our Times. A report
by Professor S. M. Lindsay, of the Finance Department, on Growth and Signifi-
cance of Municipal Enterprises for Profit. A Paper by Professor Walter F. Wil-
cox, Cornell University, on Methods of Determining the Economic Productivity
of Municipal Enterprises. Debate on the questions proposed in the paper,
participated in by Nathan Matthews, Jr., Esq., of Boston; Dr. Albert Shaw,
Editor of Review of Reviews, New York ; Professor John H. Gray, of Evanston,
111. A paper by Rev. Dr. H. L. Wayland, of Philadelphia, on the Higher Educa-
tion of the Colored People of the South, followed by a debate, which was opened
by Mr. Booker T. Washington, of Tuskegee, Ala.

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 141

WEDNESDAY. A paper by P. R. Bolton, M.D., tutor in surgery, New York
University, on the Physiology of Exercise. A paper on Medical Selection for
Life Insurance, by Brandreth Symonds, M.D., senior examining physician of the
Mutual Life Insurance Company for New York City. Do Hospitals Tend to
Pauperize ? a paper by James S. Knowles, Esq., superintendent of the New York
Infant Asylum. The Introduction into Medicine of the Thyroid Gland, by the
secretary of the department, Pearce Bailey, M.D., assistant in neurology,
Columbia College, New York. Discussion of the papers. A debate on Immigra-
tion and Quarantine.

THURSDAY. Address by the chairman, Professor Wayland. A paper by J.
Warren Greene, Esq., of Brooklyn, N. Y., on Legislation in its Relation to Juris-
prudence. A paper by President D. J. Hill, of Rochester, N. Y., on International
Justice, followed by a debate. An address by St. Clair McKelway, Esq., of
Brooklyn, N. Y., on Reform in Municipal Government, followed by a debate.

FRIDAY. Address by the chairman, F. B. Sanborn, introducing a paper on
The Fallacies of Industrial Statistics. A paper by S. N. D. North, Esq., of
Boston, .on The New Industrial Education in England and Massachusetts. A
paper, The Working Boy, by Mrs. Florence Kelley, of Chicago, factory inspector
of Illinois. A report on The Necessity for Trade Schools, by Joseph Lee, Esq.,
of Brookline, Mass. A paper on education as Related to Vocation, by S. T.
Dutton, Esq., of Brookline, Mass. A debate on the Trade School Question,
opened by C. W. Birtwell, Esq., of Boston, and continued by Z. R. Brockway,
Esq., of the Elmira State Reformatory, and others.

The officers of the American Social Science Association are : President, F. J.
Kingsbury, Waterbury, Conn.; first Vice-President, H. L. Wayland, Philadelphia,
Pa. ; General Secretary, F. B. Sanborn, Concord, Mass. ; Treasurer, Anson
Phelps Stokes, 45 Cedar St., New York. Directors : John Graham Brooks, Cam-
bridge, Mass. ; T. M. North, New York; Edward T. Potter, Newport, R. I. ;
Eugene Smith, New York ; Oscar S. Straus, New York ; Seymour Dexter, Elmira,
N. Y. ; E. H. Avery, Auburn, N. Y. ; John L. Milligan, Allegheny, Pa.; S. M.
Hotchkiss, Hartford, Conn. ; Homer Folks, New York. Department Officers : I.
Education : Joseph Anderson, D.D., Waterbury, Conn., Chairman ; Professor
Daniel Ouinn, Ph.D., Catholic University, Washington, D. C., Secretary ; II.
Health: J. W. Brannan, M.D., 11 West I2th Street, New York, Chairman;
Pearce Bailey, M.D., 60 West 5oth Street, , New York, Secretary. III. Finance:
Professor J. W. Jenks, Ithaca, N. Y., Chairman ; Professor Samuel M. Lipdsay,
Philadelphia, Secretary; IV. Social Economy : F. B. Sanborn, Concord, Chair-
man; Joseph Lee, Brookline, Mass., Secretary; V. Jurisprudence: Professor
Francis Wayland, New Haven, Chairman ; Eugene Smith, 32 Pine Street, New
York, Secretary. Executive Committee: F. J. Kingsbury, President; F. B.
Sanborn, General Secretary; Anson Phelps Stokes, Treasurer; Rev. Joseph
Anderson, Education Chairman; Dr. J. W. Brannan, Health Chairman ; Profes-
sor Francis Wayland, Jurisprudence Chairman ; Professor J. W. Jenks, Finance
Chairman ; Joseph Lee, Social Economy Secretary.

* * *

It has been stated that " Christianity presents the highest standard and the
strongest inspiration of personal morality ; but it formulates no system of social
morality applicable to all times, and affords no guarantee of its establishment."
The golden rule which Christ proclaimed as a standard of justice is certainly ap-
plicable " to all times " as a check on the vice of selfishness ; likewise the divine
sanction given to altruism in the command to love the neighbor. Actuated by

142 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Oct.,

the teaching of Christianity as understood in the Catholic Church, Archbishop
Ireland, of St. Paul, Minn., stated the case of the laborer in these vigorous words :

" I hate that view of labor which makes it a mechanical force, like the rota-
tion of a railroad or a turbine, purchasable at a mere market value. I must see
at aU times the living generation of labor the man, my own brother and the child
of the Supreme God and availing myself of human labor, I must keep well in
mind the dignity and the rights of the man. I must have before my eyes the
man and the circle of life into which man has a divine right to expand him-
self the family ; and I demand for the laborer and his family, so far as through
just and radical measures we can reach thereto, the means of a decent livelihood ;
the opportunities to develop intellect; to care for bodily health and moral and re-
ligious growth ; to receive a due portion of the joys of human existence in recom-
pense of the toils which will not fail to press upon them.

" Property is the very foundation-stone of the social fabric ; it is the incentive
and reward of industry and energy. The Indian tribes have slight regard for pro-
perty; what is owned by one may be used and controlled by all. The Indian
tribes remain bands of savage idlers. He who menaces property is an anarchist,
and the anarchist is the deadly foe of order, of right, of society.

" Labor is in absolute co-operation with capital. To what purpose is your
muscular strength unless capital is nigh to reward ? Without capital factory
doors remain closed, fields are untilled, mines hold their treasures in concealment,
no ships plough seas, no railroads span continents. Without capital labor is a
latent, unproductive energy.

" Strikes are in the industrial world what wars are between the peoples to be
dreaded for the ruin they cause, and never to be urged except when all other
counsels have failed and where great interests are at stake ; and when strikes do
take place they must be, like wars between civilized nations, conducted under the
dictates of justice and humanity. Amid the utmost fury of strikes property must
be held sacred, and the liberty of other men allowed as we demand that our liber-
ty be allowed. He who deprives another man of liberty deserves to lose his own.
These are the imperious laws of social justice and of God's religion."

* * *

Many who supposed that studies of social science must of necessity be dry
and repulsive found unexpected pleasure in the course of lectures by the Rev.
Francis W. Howard, of Columbus, O., at the Champlain Summer-School, August
10-14, 1896; the same course was also given at Madison, Wis. From the official
synopsis the following outline is taken :

The scientific study of social phenomena is a characteristic feature of the
intellectual activity of the nineteenth century. There is a growing appreciation
of the practical value of these studies as affording a basis of sound knowledge for
social effort. The democratic movement of modern times has given birth to the
problems which to-day arouse such wide-spread interest. The existence of these
problems emphasizes the importance of endeavoring to understand the growth,
structure, and vital processes of the society of which we form part. But entirely
aside from any utilitarian consideration of this kind, the science of society has an
intrinsic interest that makes it worthy of the highest intellectual effort. It is
worthy of serious attention for the same reasons that any science is. Our studies
shall be most fruitful if our sole purpose is the desire to know.

The lectures on the Production of Wealth will be an attempt to describe a
distinct class of social phenomena and will lead to the consideration of the place
of the productive system in the economy of society, the factors which contribute

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 143

to the production of wealth, and, finally, the relation of the production of wealth
to the wants, the welfare and prosperity of human society.

The points covered in the first lecture were : Importance of economics.
Growth of the science and causes of present interest in it. Subject-matter of
economics. Meaning of wealth, of property. Economic interpretation of history.
Relations of economics to ethics and politics. Methods of study and sugges-
tions about reading.

The points emphasized were the practical value of economic science, the
work done by Catholic students in European countries, the cause of the present
interest in economics and its growth ; utility, intellectual curiosity, and complexity
of phenomena are the three principles that control the development of any science.
The home is the mint for the production and consumption of wealth ; the value
of any commodity rises in proportion to its scarcity, and that certain goods, as
light, air, water, etc., however essential to our well-being, are in the nature of free
goods, and not to be estimated as wealth. The knowledge of wealth-producing
methods did not conduce to riches, as most of the authorities on political economy
were not blessed with this world's goods. As to the way of studying this science,
Father Howard advised his hearers to read backwards, so to speak, from the cur-
rent literature of the subject to that of former times.

The second lecture was on the productive system of society. How to make
a living the first problem that confronts a society. Some productive system a
necessary condition of social existence. Production in its philosophical aspect is
merely a series of changes in a material substance. The three factors of every
productive system. Causes which determine the relative importance of these fac-
tors. Purpose of our system is to obtain a maximum of produce with a minimum
of effort. The productive system of a society an historical product. Systems
change, but slowly. Production of wealth can be carried to a high stage of de-
velopment only where legal relations are clearly defined and well established. The
importance of exchange in our system. Development of commerce. The three
stages through which productive system may pass. Great diversity of employ-
ment requisite for highest national development. Influence of race, character,
climate, government. Facility of communication, and its influence on civilization.
At the outset of the third lecture Father Howard explained the present con-
ditions of the labor problem, and emphasized the importance of a study of the
conditions, so as to be able to master the problems as they arise.

He said that labor is the activity of a human agent that is exerted for the pro-
duction of wealth, and that man economizes labor by making use of the best
natural advantages and by perfecting his tools. The difference in man's and wo-
man's labor, productive and unproductive labor, skilled and unskilled labor, were
then noted.

The development of this point* was of special interest to the large feminine
contingent in the audience. Some of them clapped their hands rapturously at
first when Father Howard spoke of the entrance of women so numerously into
fields of occupation previously monopolized by men ; and of the increasing
feminine financial independence which makes women far less ready to marry than
they were even twenty-five years ago. But others at the same view-point saw a
very large shadow across this especial path of alleged feminine progress, especial-
ly in the certain depreciation of wages in those pursuits in which women divide
the field with men, and in the decline of the domestic virtues. A surprisingly
large number of women brave the shame and sorrow of the divorce court, often
for comparatively slight cause, knowing that they can maintain themselves after

144 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Oct., 1896.

they are rid of a bond which has become irksome. Father Howard dwelt
eloquently on the economic value of the work of woman in the home. Another
point exceedingly well taken, though often obscured, purposely by the demagogue,
was the scarcity and value of exceptional business ability, and of ability in general.
The passions of the working-man are aroused by fallacious appeals to the unequal
distribution of property, owing largely to difference of brain power. Other points
of great practical value were : Child labor. Productive and unproductive labor.
Skilled and unskilled latyor.i .Differences in wages have their natural and ethical
justification in difference's of jibilrt^'or productive power. The scarcity and value
of exceptional businesit, aBSlity/' The importance of ability in our industrial
system. Socialists -ancl<$nanu#l .labor. Division of labor. Causes promoting the
efficiency of labor. cVi^tT^riity and Slavery. Leo XIII. and the labor problem.

The fourth lecture dealt with the natural and scientific means of production
and the principle of the French Physiocrats that land is the source of all wealth.
Inappropriable utilities, or free goods. Natural agents that can be appropriated.
Differential advantage in the use of natural agents. Tendency to equalize
natural advantages. Law of growth of capital and its functions in modern indus-
try. Circulating and fixed capital. The wage-fund theory. Theory of Karl
Marx. Displacement of labor caused by introduction of machinery. Capital and
industrial progress.

The concluding lecture was given to the consideration of Consumption and
Production : Production is a study of supply, and consumption a study of demand.
The character of the wants of society give peculiar character to its productive
system. The psychological interpretation of social phenomena. Its correspon-
dence with the physical interpretation. Present tendencies in production, and
their relation to the wants of society. Production on a large scale. The trust.
Production of wealth underestimated by the socialist ; overestimated by the capi-
talist. Misdirection of production. Luxury. The production of wealth and
human welfare.

Some of the books which Father Howard recommended are here mentioned :

Introduction to the Study of Political Economy, containing bibliography : L.
Cossa. History of Political Economy : J. K. Ingram. Economic History: Ashley.
Groundwork ot Economics, Manual of Political Economy : Chas. Devas. Econ-
omics of Industry : Marshall. The State in relation to Labor : Jevons. Wages
and Capital : F. W. Taussig. The Philosophy of Wealth : John B. Clark. Out-
lines of Economics : R. T. Ely. Political Economy : Liberatore. Labor and
Popular Welfare : W. H. Mallock. The Wages Question, Political Economy :
F. A. Walker. Scope and Method of Political Economy : Keynes. De la Rich-
esse dans les Societes Chretiennes : Chas. Perin ; 2 vols. Les CEuvriers Europe-
ennes : Le Play ; 6 vols. La Reforme Sociale : Le Play ; 4 \ols. L'Organisation
de la Famille : Le Play ; I vol. Elements d'Economie Politique : Joseph Ram-
baud. Contemporary Socialism : John Rae. Luxury : Dr. Laveleye. Principles
of State Interference : Ritchie. The Pope and the People : W. H. Eyre, S.J. In
THE CATHOLIC WORLD for October, 1895, will be found a more detailed bibli-
ography of the Catholic literature of the Social Question, compiled for the mem-
bers of the Columbian Reading Union.

* * *

New York City can boast of a Literary Society for Catholic young men, es-
tablished twenty-five years ago at St. Francis Xavier's Church, which has held
over one thousand meetings. The plans for the coming year give promise
of much useful work. On the list of its members may be found many names that
are now well known as ecclesiastics, lawyers, doctors, and others distinguished in
professional and business life. Souvenir pamphlets have been published indicat-
ing unusual talent for original composition. Among the members has been found
the ability to write and produce successful plays ; and to discuss in debates many
leading questions. The poems, essays, and narrative sketches of travel show a
high order of literary merit. M. C. M.

(Duuirlo

MOST REV. SEBASTIANO MARTINEI,U, D.D.,

Archbishop of Ephesus, and Delegate Apostolic to the
Church in the United States.

THE NEW APOSTOLIC DELEGATE.

RCHBISHOP MARTINELLI, the successor of
Cardinal Satolli in the office of Papal Representa-
tive in America, has lost no time in assuming the
duties of his office. He is now installed in Wash-
ington, at the official residence of the Apostolic
Delegation. He has publicly intimated his preference for a
position in the United States above any country outside his
own, where, he has also declared, he would have elected to
stay if he had his own wishes only to consult. He comes here
at the call of duty, and the post is one of honor no less than
responsibility. The human side of the church, as represented
in its ministry, is as strongly developed here, in the diversities
of thought and action inseparable from active mental organisms,
as in any country in the world. The process of adaptation
to ever-modifying conditions, going on incessantly in every part
of the church's framework, is peculiarly operative in the United
States, and necessarily many questions of a complex character
must constantly present themselves for settlement. Happily
the graver questions of public policy which agitated the body
of the church when his distinguished predecessor arrived no
longer await the arbitrament of the Pope's representative. The
path of the church is smoother, and we have no doubt that it
will be made smoother still by the tact and judgment, more
valuable aids than the authoritative voice, for which the new
Delegate is happily distinguished.

The new Delegate is not entirely strange to this country.
He paid it an extended visit three years ago, and has travelled
over a great portion of the Eastern States and Canada. He is
also able to speak the English language with ease, and can
therefore place himself at once in touch with the vast majority
of the clergy and the public sentiment. With Cardinal Satolli,
he cherishes a profound attachment for American institutions,
and appreciates to the full the magnificent opportunities which
the great Republic presents for the development of the religious
spirit which goes hand-in-hand with the highest aspirations of

2 THE NEW APOSTOLIC DELEGATE.

intellectual life. A keen theologian, a distinguished scholar, an
astute administrator, and a masterful man, in the highest and
best sense of the terms, as proved in his rule of the great or-
der to which he belongs, the Superior-General of the Augus-
tinians comes to us equipped as fully as could be desired for
the duties of his distinguished and delicate post. We believe
he will have a most loyal reception everywhere, as the able
representative of our beloved Pontiff, and that his decisions
will be received in all cases in which they are rendered with
the fullest respect and reverence.

If one might cast the political horoscope, no conjuncture
could be more favorable than the present for the advent of a
bold and wise proxy of the great statesman-Pope who now
holds the attention of the world with his wonderful personality.
In the domain of the humanities Leo distinguished himself
above all preceding pontiffs by his broad and masterful policy
on the great practical problems of the day the labor question,
with its inseparable corollary, the social adjustment. In Eng-
land his policy was adumbrated in the energetic action of
Cardinal Manning "the poor man's cardinal" and the Encyc-
lical on Labor which was subsequently given to the world in-
dicated the hope and desire of the Holy Father that the action
of the philanthropic cardinal should be imitated wherever the
conditions permitted. How much has been done in this country
to give effect to that masterful Encyclical? The subject has
been of late somewhat forgotten by the Catholic press. We
have done something in these pages, from time to time, to
throw light upon some phases of the industrial question and
expose some hardships to which women and minors were sub-
jected and not, we are glad to say, without effect in some
measure. But beyond a few fitful and sporadic references in
other publications the momentous questions of the conditions
under which the toiling masses work out their lives from year to
year have been apparently forgotten or shelved for the discussion
of the more pressing political and religious topics of the day.
We are a nation of toilers, for the most part, and while we are
proud of the eminence of dignity to which we have raised hon-
orable labor, we recognize the many hardships and oppressions
which trammel the wage-earner and often take the whole sweet-
ness out of his human life. The words of love which our beloved
church, through its Pontiff, has spoken were not uttered to be
let pass as the idle wind ; they were earnest, soul-felt, and au-

THE NEW APOSTOLIC DELEGATE. 3

thoritative. Is it not time that they were taken up more sedu-
lously ?

The time is most opportune for the new Delegate to observe
the tremendous power which labor means here. He comes at
the moment when the whole of that vast power is up in arms
against: the no less dynamic force of organized capital, and when
the most far-reaching issues will be decided at the ballot-boxes.
He will find, we have no doubt, almost everywhere that though
labor have a giant's strength it does not wish to use it as a
giant for the promotion of evil or disorder. He will find that
its ranks are composed of thinking, serious men and women
who are often able to take as statesmanlike a view of the
highest public questions as those bred in the universities. What
a noble thing to win the sympathies of such an intelligent and
upright class to the church, to show it what a paternal interest
the people's Pope takes in not only their moral but their mate-
rial welfare !

We have no doubt that Archbishop Martinelli will see these
things for himself. We believe he comes at a most opportune
moment, and we hail the auspices with the hopeful expectation
of great results for our people and the church.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXIV.

NOVEMBER, 1896.

No. 380.

RIGHTEOUS MAMMON.

BY E. M. LYNCH.

HE "Hills of Pity," (Monti di Pietti)
were the origin of pawnshops. For
love of the poor, and to enable strug-
gling people to obtain small sums of
money, three Franciscan friars in Flor-
ence, about three hundred years ago,
founded these "hills."
Father Ludovic de Besse, another of the Cappuccini, at the
present moment is one of the leaders of the Co-operative Bank-
ing movement in France.

In another place I have written of " Brotherly Banking," *
for People's Banks and Rural Banks are the perfection of fra-
ternal finance, and are real works of Christian charity. Among
English-speaking nations these banks have still to make their
way; but Germany has known them for fifty years ; Italy for
about thirty, and the other European countries for shorter
terms. Even in Russia co-operative banks " turn over ' about
ten million dollars annually. Needless to say that that up-to-
date nation, Japan, has embarked upon co-operative banking ;
at any rate Mr. Wolff, in his People's Banks f a book which is
a mine of information on this subject says that " a disciple of
Signor Luzzatti has constituted himself the apostle of credit
co-operation ' in Japan, with every prospect of a successful
propaganda. This pioneer's name is Heizo Itto. China also
has its co-operative money-stores, which have provided the toil-

* The Economic Review. t Longmans & Co. publishers. 1893.

146 RIGHTEOUS MAMMON. [Nov.,

ing peasants with the material on which to expend their pro-
verbial industry.

General Tcheng-ki-Tong called these Chinese banks banques
mutuelles, when he lectured about them to a Paris audience
some years ago ; and he said that they existed in his country
from time immemorial ; working wonders, above all, in agricul-
tural districts such as his own province of Fo-kien. He de-
clared that " no small peasant, who wants to carry out some
structural or agricultural improvement, is ever at a loss for
money." All the local savings are deposited in the banque mu-
tuelle. The Chinese say : " The land is the great debtor of the
nation " ; much as Burke said : " The state is ever the debtor
of the plough "; but Burke meant that the state depends on
agriculture in the last resort, whereas the Chinese proverb
means that " the land absorbs all surplus money." Mr. Wolff
comments: "A safe debtor, who repays the money lent with
ample interest ! '

In pursuance of the idea of the brotherliness of the kind of
banks I advocate, I may mention that societies akin to co-oper-
ative credit societies are called in Spain Sociedade Familiar
family groups ; and M. Charles Rayneri, a people's bank mana-
ger and a leading French authority on co-operative credit, insists
that " The little corporation of each bank should be as careful
as to new members as is any family. We all have our views as
to desirable and undesirable relations-in-law ! Well, we should
not be less particular about our fellow-co-operators in a bank."

In the outset of an account of these poor men's banks some
one nearly always interrupts with the remark : " We have the
same thing : benefit clubs ! Members save so much per week
for three-quarters of the year, and share-out at Christmas."
But sharing-out is expressly prohibited by the best type of all
the co-operative banks Raiffeisen's Loan Banks. Raiffeisen's
banks began by owning nothing, and by borrowing (on the com-
bined credit of the members) in order to lend ! The small pro-
fits (on business done) are laid aside as the reserve fund of
the bank. That fund is the only property actually belonging
to one of these little lending corporations. The profit is made
by the trifling excess of interest charged on loans over that
paid for the use of the borrowed money. Thus, when the bank
borrows at four per cent, it lends at five per cent., or there-
abouts. If a loss falls upon the bank, it is made good out of
the reserve. If the reserve be large, it can be used as part
capital for the bank, and thus an abatement of the rate of in-

1896.] RIGHTEOUS MAMMON. 147

terest can be achieved for the reserve need not earn interest
from the members of the corporation to which it belongs ;
and less capital will be needed from the People's Bank, or the
Savings Bank which acts as feeder to the smaller village bank.
Raiffeisen, in fear of the needy and the greedy, decreed that
there should be no division of this reserve among the co-oper-
ators under any circumstances ; but that, if disagreements,
or any other cause, led to the winding up of a bank, the re-
serve fund should be handed over to another nascent co-opera-
tive bank in the same place ; or failing this, to some public
institution a hospital, library, or technical schools.

There were $10,000 in the reserve of the Flammersfeld Loan
Bank when it was dissolved, a couple of years ago. That large
sum had been built up by the fraction of the one per cent,
profit on the small operations of this bank, doing business
among the very poor, after the working expenses were deducted.

A rural bank has no fine premises. Often the mayor of a
townlet lends a room in the town hall. In Italy it has hap-
pened not infrequently that the parish priest has lent the nave
of his church for the weekly meetings of the lay brotherhood
that promised to aid souls as much as bodies, though the means
to these good ends were dollars and cents.

" Do you mean savings banks because they teach thrift and
promote sobriety?' a puzzled auditor will ask, when the un-
familiar talk about co-operative credit has gone on for awhile.

This guess is wide of the mark. Schulze-Delitzsch first
founded Credit Associations in Germany in 1851, and these as-
sociations served as models for People's Banks, helping the in-
dustrial and trading classes classes rich by comparison with
agricultural tenants and peasant proprietors. In these associa-
tions encouragement is, indeed, given to saving, and the hum-
bler rural banks welcome savings and pay interest on them.
But the prime object of all co-operative banks is not laying-by.
It is to bring money within the reach of those hitherto out-
side the radius of credit. "The poor remain poor because they
have no credit ; and they have no credit because they are poor,"
said a well-known economist. The three friars took the chat-
tels of their clients in Florence, long ago, and made money
advances upon these pledges, just as great financiers now ac-
cept " bankable security ' as a preliminary to placing capital
at the disposal of a rich borrower. With co-operative banking
societies character is the security ; and the recognized object
of a loan is its utilization in some productive industry. More-

148 RIGHTEOUS MAMMON. [Nov.,

over, poor men often have not one cent to lay by. To wait till
they have accumulated a sum before attempting a profitable
undertaking would be, in too many cases, to wait for ever.

THE CATHOLIC BANKS IN ITALY.

In the New Ireland Review, a year ago, Mr. Wolff gave .an
account of Dom Luigi Cerutti's " Catholic Banks." Dom Cerutti
is the parish priest of Gambarare. In 1889 he set about "work-
ing for God ' (with money), as Raiffeisen described his own
lendings and borrowings, over forty years earlier. The priest's
parish was fearfully poor, although the soil is not bad. Its
great needs were better stock, good seeds, drainage, and rich
dressings. Two things, above all, hung like millstones round
the peasants' necks: first, the very high rents; second, the
prevalence of usury. " In the land of the golden orange and
sweet-scented vine-blossom," said Dom Cerutti, the alternatives
before the parishioners were " death by pellagra ' (a fearful dis-
ease that attacks the ill-fed in North Italy), or " emigration
to America." Mr. Wolff calls this "another version of Mr.
John Morley's Manacles or Manitoba." In 1889 tne grain crops
and the wine harvest failed, so that the outlook at Gambarare
was most dismal. In the following February Dom Cerutti was
ready to begin co-operative banking, thereby meeting many of
the difficulties besetting his poor flock. There were twenty-
six original members of the bank amongst them two priests
besides himself. He also enrolled the doctor, the apothecary,
three peasant proprietors, fifteen agricultural tenants, one arti-
san, and two laborers. All he asked of members, by way of
qualification, was a good character. The reverend banker and
his associates had at first absolutely no money in their cash-
box ; but, happily, a friendly depositor came forward with a
considerable sum to lodge. A parish priest without private
means would be probably a poorer man than the village doc-
tor, who, in Italy, when salaried by the state, is not " passing rich
on forty pounds a year"; that is, one thousand lire, the official
stipend ! The joint liability, however, of these three priests,
the doctor, and the chosen villagers was considered sufficient
guarantee to allow of the Venice savings bank lending Gamba-
rare all the money required, beyond what the early depositor
furnished, for the thirty-three loans for which the bank's mem-
bers applied in the first year. These loans averaged under 300
lire, and amounted in the aggregate to about 9,250 lire say,
roughly, $1,500. This money was spent chiefly in buying young

1896.] RIGHTEOUS MAMMON. 149

stock to fatten and poultry, but 1,550 lire went in farm-work,
and 1,200 lire were devoted to buying food-stuffs, etc., to stock
the village shops. Had the Gambarese waited till they had saved
enough to buy pigs, calves, and poultry, or stock-in-trade for their
humble shops, they would have waited their lives through ; for
their resources hardly sufficed to keep body and soul together.

That first year the bank lost 20 lire. Though there are no
regular office expenses (the co-operators doing the work of their
bank gratuitously and the premises for the weekly meetings
being lent), still some outlay was inevitable. Ledgers had to
be bought ; a book in which to enter minutes of meetings ;
passbooks for borrowers, for depositors, etc.; and Venice
charged at the rate of six per cent, for the capital lent. But
the balance on the wrong side did not remain there for long.

At first the Gambarare bank limited its members' loans to
$96. Latterly the maximum loan is fixed at $192. Nearly $3,000
are now lent out annually, and an aggregate of $10,300 was
lent in the first four years. The time-limit of loans is three
years, at the outside. The bank had, over a year ago, a re-
serve fund of $174, and the rules carefully provide that this
fund must never be shared-out.

I may, parenthetically, allude to one of the evils of permit-
ting this sharing-out of the reserve fund. In Switzerland,
where the practice was not forbidden, members anxious for a
little cash in hand have often broken up a co-operative bank
for the sole object of possessing themselves of their quota of
the reserve. Now, the time when the lives of these banks are
least secure is in their early days, before their " backbone' (as
co-operators call the reserve fund) is formed. Hence, those
members who got up a cabal, broke up their society, and
divided the bank's only " estate " the reserve were acting in
a thoroughly unco-operative spirit, even when they forthwith
proceeded to start a new bank on the old lines.

I return to Gambarare : Two years ago there were one hun-
dred and fifty members in its bank. No more than seven of
these could be described as " in fairly easy circumstances." In
1893 Mr. Wolff chronicles with pleasure that one loan was
made " for the purchase of land." Surely this is a proof of
the speedy improvement of the condition of a lately famine-
threatened parish ! He gives instances of the beneficent work-
ings of co-operative credit in this corner of Italy ; to wit, the
case of a man whose rent was 350 lire in arrear. His only
assets were two cows. To sell the cows would have been equiv-

150 RIGHTEOUS MAMMON. [Nov.,

alent to killing the goose that laid the golden eggs. But the
landlord would not wait. What could the poor man do?
Without the bank he would most certainly have been ruined,
whether he went to the usurers or not. But the bank came to
his rescue with the rent, and in four months the cows had
paid back the debt, with the interest upon it, in milk. Here
is another case : again rent was due. The tenant's only mar-
ketable possession was hay, but the month was November and
hay was selling cheap. The man joined the bank and paid his
debt with a loan, holding his hay over till spring, by which de-
lay he sold at an added profit of 200 lire.

Yet another case : a poor woman saw her way to feeding a
pig if only she could contrive to buy it. A Gambarare Shylock
offered her the necessary 30 lire at an interest of 2CO per cent.
But she came to her bank and got the money at 6 per cent.

Thus, one sees the advantage of every man being " his own
banker."

Truly, the axiom, "the losses and gains on every pecuniary
transaction must exactly balance each other," seems in need
of some qualification ; for, in the first two cases, the tenants
stood to lose all their worldly goods withoiit their bank's
help. With it, the amount of their rents, plus six per cent.,
cleared off their scores. The widow might not have lost her
all for want of her porker ; but she too gained enormously
by having recourse to the bank. True, the accounts " exactly
balance ' on each transaction between bank and members ; but
what an untold benefit it is to the members to have their
bank to deal with ! It means no less than the difference be-
tween living and starving.

In 1895 there were " two hundred banks under Dom
Cerutti's banner." They are, as I have said, called "Catholic
Banks," but they only exact that members shall be " non con-
trario alia chiesa Cattolica ' " not enemies to the Catholic
Church." General meetings of the banks are opened with the
Actiones, and are closed with the Agimus. The bank at Gam-
barare has brought in its train co-operative insurance; co-
operative distribution, and a co-operative cheese-factory. Some
time ago a co-operative wine-press was likely to follow. By
such a press Raiffeisen doubled the value of grapes in his
poor Rhenish district. Equally good results might easily
accrue to Italian wine-growers.

And what an education for peasants to be concerned in
co-operative undertakings! They combine, certainly, for their

'1896.] RIGHTEOUS MAMMON. 151

own interest ; but the earliest lesson they learn is that they
must be " each for all, and all for each." In a bank of the
approved pattern the members elect a committee, and confide
the management of all lendings and borrowings to it. They
elect a council, leaving to this body the overseeing of the
committee's work. They may elect, besides, a watch commit-
tee, to see to the carrying out of the work of their manage-
ment. In a parish like Gambarare there would probably be
seven members, at most, upon the managing committee ; five
members of the council; and two upon the " watch." The
management decides on the wisdom of the projects of those
who ask for loans, as well as on all applications for member-
ship. If Giovanni asks for capital to start a sugar-cane farm
on a dry, cold upland, he will certainly be refused a loan,
however good may be his character for industry and probity.
If Giuseppe, whose land is good, asks for money to buy seed-
corn for it, he will almost certainly receive it. The council
will audit the accounts, and pass in review the general busi-
ness, having the power to control it. The "watch* will see
that loans are applied to the purposes for which they are ob-
tained, and will act the " brother's keeper ' even more zealous-
ly than committee, council, or ordinary fellow-members. The
whole business of the bank is open to the inspection of every
member ; is plainly stated though perhaps only upon a slate
and the statement is hung up within sight of all, after every
meeting of the little corporation. Even youths and girls, who
come with their few cents for the savings department, scan the
balance-sheet attentively, and are keen to know if there are
new loans. They feel as if they thus learnt on whose fields
their own soldi were going out to fructify. In a village where
the co-operative bank only held fortnightly meetings, the peo-
ple preferred to hold back their small deposits, instead of lodg-
ing them with the post-office savings bank, and gaining a trifle
higher interest (a higher rate by one-half per cent., and the
fraction for the idle fortnight), because their bank was their
own, and its capital invested under their eyes.

Illiterates are, ipso facto, ineligible for the membership of
these banks, with the gratifying result that Italian grandfathers
have learnt to read and write, because these accomplishments
were the necessary preliminaries to using the local bank.

I may explain, parenthetically, that the reason for allowing
some loans to run so long as three years is this: agricultural
works require time to repay themselves. Improvements some-

152 RIGHTEOUS MAMMON. [Nov.,

times don't begin to tell at all till the second year. With very
poor people it would be positively mischievous to look for
repayment from other resources than those for which the loan
has been obtained. If a man must sell his cow to repay the
loan granted for seeds in spring, he will be poorer, instead of
richer, for borrowing. No ; the loan for seeds must only be
repaid when the grain-crop can be profitably turned into cash!

THE PRINCIPLE OF MUTUAL INTEREST.

When inquirers feel anxious as to the ways in which co-
operative moneys may be voted, it will be well if they remem-
ber that the men who ask for loans in a rural bank are busy
about the very same affairs as the men whom they have
elected to the management of their bank. All have probably
been born, and lived most of their days, in the same district.
They know the very feel of their native clods as they powder
them between finger and thumb. Observation and tradition
cover most of the ground in the local life, leaving no room
for farming surprises. At Gambarare, and other places which
have their village banks, the whole population is employed
upon the land, or in purveying for the wants of the agricul-
turists ; therefore every person has an intimate knowledge of
the business of everybody else, and a bank committee is a
committee of experts pronouncing upon farming operations in
connection with attainable capital, or upon local trading con-
cerns which the parish knows as well as it " knows its own
pocket." The committee will not be captiously critical (does
not every man know his own application may be met, by and
by, in a like churlish spirit, and does he not live to " do as he
would be done by"?), but the committee will be abundantly
cautious. For are not all the members pledged in every loan ?

It is upon this question of unlimited liability that those who
are not yet in favor of co-operative banks make their firmest
stand. But the banks' advocates, on the other hand, regard
unlimited liability as the most valuable feature in their system,
because it is the one which insures a wise caution in every
step taken by the co-operators. Moreover, it is the sole con-
dition upon which cheap banking can be accomplished. When
there are no bills, no mortgages, and no pledges, and where
character stands for credit, there must be unlimited liability.
But the feature is, in itself, so valuable that co-operative
financiers would advocate it as strongly as ever, even if it
were not a case of Hobson's choice.

1896.] RIGHTEOUS MAMMON. 153

In Killboylan Bank, an " account of how Killboylan charac-
ters concerned themselves about co-operative credit,"* I have
endeavored to put the objections to unlimited liability in
the strongest manner. There is an appearance of insuperabil-
ity about these objections which is very engaging to the advo-
cate who knows that their strength is merely apparent, not
real. As the characters in a book would not speak naturally
if they kept always close to the point, my Killboylan folk
argue somewhat at large, and therefore do not readily lend
themselves to quotation. Perhaps some reader will have the
curiosity to turn to p. 91 and the following pages of " Killboy-
lan ' in pursuit of this point.

LIMITED OR UNLIMITED LIABILITY.

Elsewhere, f following M. Rayneri, I have set forth the
matter more succinctly. "A superficial glance at the unlimited
liability of members of rural banks reveals nothing but difficul-
ties. The first fear is that there must be some immediately
threatening catastrophe by which the bank-members' common
property must all be engulfed. A calm and detailed investiga-
tion, however, discloses extreme prudence in the ruling of the
affairs of rural banks. If unlimited liability dowers a bank
with its borrowing powers, its statutes interpose, at the same
time, in the interest of safety, at every step in its operations."
The members are drawn from a strictly limited area. All live
under the eyes of the rest. In an Italian village nearly all
the people are related, counting cousinship to many degrees of
kinship. The bank decides at the annual general meeting
what shall be the amount lent out during the year, and what
shall be the maximum loan to any one member. The bank's
money is for the bank's members, and these are picked men
the parish's flower of probity. The management has power to
recall loans that are being applied to other than the objects
for which they were granted. Loans of considerable amount
are, besides, guaranteed by one surety, or more.

The committee is naturally chosen from the most business-
like among the members, and Herr Raiffeisen absolutely dis-
countenanced committees (or banks) where there were not
one or two persons rather better furnished with this world's
goods than the bulk of the members. The hard-headed and
the comparatively well-to-do members have a character for

* Killboylan Bank ; or, Every Man his own Banker. By E. M. Lynch. London, 1896
Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co.

f Gentlemarfs Magazine, August, 1895.

154 RIGHTEOUS MAMMON. [Nov.,

sagacity to lose, besides their financial stake in the concern.
Is it likely that they would vote that loans should be made to
members of doubtful wisdom, solvency, or honesty?

" But let us suppose that the bank's judgment should be at
fault, or that the borrower, from circumstances quite beyond
his control, should be unable to repay his loan. What would
then occur ? First, there would be his surety to fall back
upon." Now this is a sufficiently unlikely contingency; for a
man does not get a next-door neighbor, an uncle, a cousin, to
pledge his credit for him, unless the would-be borrower is a
"sound man," with a sound plan for using the capital. He is
one of the bank's elected ; therefore presumably a desirable
borrower, and one known to his intimates for an able, honest
man. The bank only accepts such sureties as are equally
reliable. But let us follow M. Rayneri, and put things at their
very worst. Let us suppose principal and surety utterly
broken men; there is still the reserve fund to fall back upon.
But, some one may object, " If the bank is quite new, there
may be no reserve fund." Well, even so, there is still hope.
The bank will continue to exist. It will cost next to nothing
as to its working expenses, and nothing at all will go in
dividends, for the simple reason that there are no shares. The
bank will lay by the small profits on its business. Present
losses will, in time, be covered by these profits. Meantime, a
tax will be levied on all the members to make up the deficit.
If the loan was for 96 dollars 500 lire (a liberal supposition,
as maximums go, in newly-established rural banks), and if there
were but 25 members in the infant corporation (an unusually
small number), each member would, after all, be liable only in
the sum of say, for round numbers, $4! In this calculation
everything has been carefully set down in the very worst
light, yet unlimited liability works out at something about
$4; and these $4 are not lost. Members have merely
to do without them till their bank's business shall have
built up a reserve fund equal to their reimbursement.

Wollemborg said of this principle of unlimited liability : " It
is the life of these rural corporations, the foundation of them,
and, at the same time, their controlling force. This principle
is a constant source of hidden, revivifying influence."

But at this point of my argument I feel certain some
objector will exclaim: "These banks may be of use to the
poorest of the poor, in old and worn-out countries. They are
not worth a thought among enterprising folk, in a rich land,

1896.] RIGHTEOUS MAMMON. 155

among the trading classes." Well, I would ask, are there no
people in America who, being out of reach of ordinary banks,
are yet in need of credit ? It has been said that to-day, from
the treasury to the tobacco-shop, credit is " the very currency
of business." Those who profit by all the advantages of their
own banks fail to realize the difficulties of the struggling
toilers who have to do without banking accommodation.

Long ago Daniel Defoe wrote upon banking, expressing his
dissatisfaction that the government did not " fix a maximum
rate of interest for loans made by chartered banks. They
were," he complained, " of no assistance to the poor trader, who
might as well go to the goldsmiths as before." The needs of
farmers and " poor traders " originated the " cash credit system'
in Scotland. But the perfect " democratization of credit ' is
to be found only in co-operative banks. Of these, however,
there are two sorts : rural banks, like Dom Cerutti's Catholic
^banks, and people's banks, like Schulze-Delitzsch's credit as-
sociations in Germany, or the great Banche Popolari in Italy.

A POPULAR BANK IN MILAN.

The head office, or parent bank, of the Italian Banche
Popolari, is housed in a veritable palace at Milan. It has
about 100 paid clerks, and 140 unpaid helpers. Lately a
department has been built (upon what used to be a court
planted with shrubs) where customers, who lodge their securi-
ties in the bank's fire-proof safes, may come to clip-off and
fill-in their coupons in due season. That department, surely,
speaks plainly of a moneyed membership ! Rural banks are for
those who have no capital. People's banks serve the needs of
classes not so low in the pecuniary scale.

Two square halls in the bank-buildings are set with chairs,
benches, and furnished writing-tables, for the convenience of
members. Lining these halls there are railed-off approaches to
places like ticket-offices, where money is paid in ; drawn out ;
newly made-up bank-books are returned ; checks on distant
banking corporations are issued; credits opened over-sea; bill-
discounting in all its branches is done ; insurances effected, etc.,
etc. " Savings," and "small savings," form separate depart-
ments. The daily turn-over in this bank amounts, roughly
speaking, to a million dollars, according to the distinguished
lawyer and co-operator, Felice Mangili, who is secretary of the
bank's directorate at Milan. I quote from his treatise on
people's banks, prepared for the recent exhibition at Palermo.

156 RIGHTEOUS MAM AWN. [Nov.,

The last official report of this chief Banco, Popolare counts the
annual operations by billions of lire. The bank has been only
twenty years in existence. It deals with the goods of the
small capitalist, for the most part, while the rural banks turn
&#-moneyed men into persons with "credit." Jules Simon
said : " Le plus grand banquier du monde est celui qui dispose de
fobole du proUiaire " " The world's greatest banker is he who
turns over the poor men's pence"; and Jules Simon's^ is a name
wherewith to conjure in economical questions !

And here, in this immense bank, the thing that most struck
me was the friendliness, the enthusiasm of these people's
bankers ! Frigidity falls in naturally with finance that is, with
la haute finance ; but cordiality consorts with co-operative
credit. The heads positively g/ow with pride in their work as
they expatiate upon the advantages that their form of banking
extends to the poorer classes ; upon the beauties of co-opera-
tion in money matters ; upon whole industries benefited, and
whole classes raised from the state of hopeless drudgery ! If
the etymologists who turn back the word, enthusiasm, into the
Greek for God within us be not strictly and literally right in
their derivation, they seem to have missed the letter only to
hit the very spirit. In Milan, and elsewhere, the leaders in
this Credit Movement impress me as men glowing with charity ;
souls on fire with a happy idea ; philanthropists of a burning
activity ; characters that emit a heavenly radiance. Money,
that seems so often but " filthy lucre " ; a thing to soil the
fingers that touch, and the lips that speak it money, in their
hands, and on their tongues, grows holy; for it is an engine
for moral as much as material progress. In two words, it be-
comes Righteous Mammon.

1896.]

NUMQUAM REVERTITUR TEMP us.

157

NUMQUAM REVERTITUR TEMPUS.

BY BERT MARTEL.

OH ! what is thy song, summer sea ?

Oh ! what is thy song, summer wave ?
Will my wandering love return to me
To redeem the pledge he gave ?

II.

Oh ! what is thy tale, winter wind ?

Oh ! what is thy tale, winter blast?
Is my faithful lover so hopelessly blind

As to go a-sailing past?

ni. . . '.,:'\

No, no, sang the glittering sea ;

No, no, shrieked the moaning blast ;
Thy lover will never return to thee,

Nor will his ship sail past.

For his gallant barque plunged into the pit

Of the ocean's slimy bed ;
And he and his crew as skeletons sit

In their tomb among the dead.

158 SHAKSPERE AND THE NEIV WOMAN. [Nov.,

SHAKSPERE AND THE NEW WOMAN.

But woman, proud woman,
Dress'd in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what she's most assured
Her glassy essence, like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As make the angels weep.

Measure for Measure (slightly altered), act ii. scene 2.

HIS is an age of progress. Every science, every
art has attained a pre-eminence undreamt of
even in the palmy days of the glorious supre-
macy of Athens " Mother of Arts," and till now
the unattainable in the most intellectual centres.
Nothing but the wonderful, the supernatural, can eclipse
the universal development which makes this century so far
superior to all preceding ones. But in trying to accomplish
too much, we may succeed in accomplishing nothing. One phase
of the progressive movement strikes thinking minds as exceed-
ingly dubious. We refer to the much-talked-of problem that
proposes so to ameliorate the condition of woman as to change
her very nature. It is doubtful progress, because nothing can
be said to advance, to improve its condition, unless surround-
ed by the congenial influences that are found only in its own
sphere. Woman's sphere is the home circle. All within that
is progressive, outside of it retrogressive, and especially the
steps she contemplates taking. For when we consider wifehood
and motherhood as the spiritualizing elements in her existence,
and in fact as its very end, there can be no question that that
state which considers as real emancipation for her an utter de-
testation and neglect of wedlock ; which makes marriage syn-
onymous not with love but slavery ; which regards man as a
creature placed in the world, not to protect and love her but
to degrade and enslave her that state hopelessly retards her
progress. This is certainly a brief outline of their position, as
gleaned from the utterances of the most advanced advocates
of "Woman's Rights."

How delightfully interesting ! Let us compare her present
degree of moral and physical degradation and slavery with the
exalted position she held in the notoriously neglectful ages
previous to the seventeenth century.

1896.] SHAKSPERE AND THE NEW WOMAN. 159

Before the Christian era even Greece, the land of the most
refined culture, treated her as but a favored slave. Rome, the
mistress of the world, looked on her, not so much as the mother
of her warriors as she considered her a mere nurse preparing
them for their school of action. Instances of intellectual wo-
men are few indeed ; opportunities for attaining to intellectual
superiority, none at all. Perhaps those who possessed it owed
it to the precept and example of a cultured father, a second
Prospero, or to their emulation of a famous husband.

To Christianity she is indebted for her real emancipation.
After its divine teachings had been promulgated she began to
take her real place in society, though for a time only in a com-
parative degree. Her progress was slow but steady in its advance.

During the middle ages, when the whole of Europe was
recovering from the inroads of the barbarians, and when all the
now powerful dynasties were nursing in their cradles, she re-
mained a hidden light, seen only in the influence she exerted
on the founders and rulers of states.

The seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries have
so exalted and ennobled her that she is now enthroned on a
pinnacle from which by none but herself can she be dethroned.
This age particularly has meted out to her more of homage
and justice and consideration than even the boasted days of
knight-errantry.

But, like in the fable of the Belly and the Members, she
now rebels against her most necessary ally, who can no more
do without her co-operation than she can without his. She is
perhaps incited to such a rebellion by a few discontented pet-
ticoated demagogues. She will not listen to the promptings
of her own pure intelligence, and consequently she is soaring
aloft on Icarian wings of enthusiasm which, when scorched by
her own bitter experience, will sink her into a sea of pity and
contempt.

We judge the future by the past the past we know from
the great geniuses who have handed down its annals. Let us
peruse the greatest of these geniuses and see if he knew such
a monstrosity as now confronts us. Shakspere is the poet and
historian of nature, and of the human heart. These are im-
mutable. Consequently the women he portrays are not exotics
culled from the hot-house of his own imagination, but real,
living personalities, daughters of frail Mother Eve, and stamped
with Dame Nature's seal of truth. They walk in our midst to-
day, existed centuries before he wrote, and will continue to

160 SHAKSPERE AND THE NEW WOMAN. [Nov.,

increase and multiply fac-similes of themselves long after the
" New-Woman ' fad has become a dim recollection.

By examining his characters, or rather by watching them
and listening to them as they " strut and fret their hour upon
the stage," we will learn that in her own sphere woman is "a
thing of beauty' and a " joy for ever," but that outside of it
she is a foreign excrescence ugly to behold.

PART I.

As the summit of the New Woman's most laudable ambition
is the realization of power in all things temporal, in no way
can we better show the chimerical nature of such ambition than
by analyzing the queenly characters in Shakspere who are the
embodiment of the power they so ardently covet. Possibly
this analysis will show us that the very reason for the success
of his good queens lay in the utter repudiation of " Mr. New
Woman's ' beautiful theories.

The most perfect type of a Christian queen is Katharine of
Aragon, Henry VIII. 's unfortunate wife. To her queenly
dignity she added a regal purity of soul, admirable for the
tainted age in which she lived, and unsurpassed even in this
age of unparalleled virtue and feminine guilelessness. During
twenty years of unceasing fidelity she gained for Henry a
prestige he would have otherwise never attained, and for her-
self the voluntary love and esteem of all her subjects. But he,
the sensual, has tired of her ; his wanton eye has fallen on a
younger and outwardly a more beautiful woman. So he de-
clares their marriage invalid, and, encouraged by the sycophants
about his throne, determines to put her away. During the hu-
miliating spectacle that was enacted in the presence of the
whole court she never forgets her womanhood. She upholds
the justice of her cause with gentleness, firmness, and touching
eloquence, and, finding it in vain, departs dejectedly from the
hall. Is it surprising that Henry is forced to attest her worth
to those around him :

" Thou art alone, (he says)
If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government,
Obeying in commanding, and thy parts sovereign and
Pious else, could find thee out,
The queen of earthly queens."

Henry VI 77., act ii. scene 4.

1896.] SHAKSPERE AND THE NEW WOMAN. 161

Yet he is, for base purposes, willing to sustain

" A loss of her

That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years
About his neck, yet never lost her lustre ;
Of her that loves him with that excellence
That angels love good men with ; even of her
That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls,
Will bless the king." -Ibid., act it. scene 2.

Another queen little inferior to Katharine in stability of char-
acter and beauty of soul is Hermione. Though an excellent
mother, a loving wife, and a model queen, still, because she
tried to show kindness and hospitality to her husband's dearest
friend, she incurs the anger of his asinine jealousy. Her con-
duct throughout this severe trial is admirable. The sympathy
for her and the criticism which it incites against her husband
show too plainly the exalted purity of her life. When she is
publicly charged with infidelity by her husband, one of his
most discerning courtiers thus speaks of her :

" Every inch of woman in the world,
Ay, every dram of woman's flesh, is false
If she be."

Rather than suffer the unending cruelty of her king she
pretends to have died under the painful accusation, and remains
in retirement till her husband discovers and bitterly repents
his injustice. He tells us then with infinite sorrow that she
was always " as tender as infancy and grace."

How well her name designates the maternal affection of
Constance ! Her tongue is by no means as gentle as we natur-
ally look to find in a woman, but how easily such a fault is ex-
cused in her ! The mother's heart is overwhelmed by the mis-
fortunes of her beautiful and noble child, Prince Arthur, that
in her eagerness to right him and wrest the crown unlawfully
withheld by his uncle John, she is justified in using any legiti-
mate means. Besides, her opponent is a woman, the Dowager
Elinor, and we know that woman's tongue, unfortunately, is her
only instrument of warfare. The worry and trouble she passed
through, utterly alone, for Prince Arthur, are certainly the
strongest possible confirmations of her love for her idolized
treasure.

We pass over the weak queens Shakspere presents us, as
not bearing upon our subject, and in fact as not having a par-
VOL. LXIV. ii

162 SHAKSPERE AND THE NEW WOMAN. [Nov.,

ticle of the stuff queens are made of. But the three examples
we next propose to consider should appeal very strongly to the
sympathies of the disciples of progress. Queen Margaret, Lady
Macbeth, and the Serpent of Old Nilus are the embodiment of
strength of character, of queenly rule. In fact, they ruled
everything but themselves.

Margaret dons armor, and while her gentle husband is vacil-
lating between peace and war sets out at the head of her
loyal forces against the White Rose of York. She is a typical
New Woman. Ostensibly she does this for her children, but
she is not so disinterested or of so maternal a nature. Her
real object is to satisfy her inordinate ambition for power. She
crowns her perfidy to her husband by her demoniac cruelty.
Young Prince Rutland is murdered at her command, and when
his father, York, falls into her power, she is not satisfied ex-
cept by torturing him to death. And while this diabolical act
is being done she culminates her cruelty by presenting him,
to wipe his tear-stained face, with the blood-stained handker-
chief of his poor murdered son.

" Proper deformity seems not in the fiend so horrid as in

woman.'

What shall we say of that other beautiful type of masculine
femininity, ambitious Lady Macbeth ? Surely every gentle
reader shrinks with repugnance from the contemplation of such
an anomaly in nature. Her ambition has effectually soured " the
milk of human kindness ' in her some-time softened heart. Her
history is so well known that the rising generation need no resume"
of the events of her deluded life, and her sad but well-merited end,
to deter them from even remotely endeavoring to emulate her
ambitious but short-lived career. Perhaps they will object that
her life is merely an exception ; that the majority of murders
and crimes in general are perpetrated by men ; that it is a
rare thing to hear of a murderess. Let them not lay that flat-
tering unction to their souls. Ambition brutalized Lady Mac-
beth, and the attainment of their wishes will indirectly brutal-
ize them. Why are male criminals in the great majority ?
Because they are constantly thrown in contact with the world,
opposed on all sides by irresistible temptations a prey to the
manifold evils that perhaps woman in the serenity of her home-
life never dreams of. Let her desert this sanctuary in which
she has heretofore been enshrined, and, from being a thing
" enskyed and sainted," it will not demand a great stretch of

1896.] SHAKSPERE AND THE NEW WOMAN. 163

imagination to picture her an unwilling disciple of Macbeth's
queen.

Cleopatra, considering her intellectual acquirements, is, from
a Christian view-point, the most ignoble among Shakspere's
queens. It is the daughter of Ptolemy Shakspere paints, for
through the charming mist of poetry and romance the student
of history will easily recognize the portraiture as one of the most
authentic of her character. We find her a perfect adventuress,
a voluptuary. She numbered among her paramours the mighty
bulwarks of her time. Julius Caesar, Pompey, and Marc
Antony successively paid her homage. She died by the self-
inflicted bite of an asp, and bereft of kingdom, friends, honor
-all she prized in life.

Beyond doubt she deserved all the homage the greatest
paid her; for, outwardly like an angel of light,

" Her own person beggared all description,
O'er-picturing that Venus where we see
The fancy outwork nature."

-Antony and Cleopatra, act ii. scene 2.

Intellectually she was the compeer of Caesar :

" Age cannot wither, nor can custom stale,
Her infinite variety." Ibid., act ii. scene 2.

It is with unceasing regret we review her utterly useless
though brilliant career. Her great power destroyed the one
essential to usefulness : virtue, the precious diadem of the soul.

Thus we have seen pass before us Shakspere's queenly pa-
geant. In panoramic characterizations he "penetrates the
heart of their mystery," and shows us that Katharine, Hermione,
and Constance alone are formed of the proper mould because
they confined themselves to the duties of home government,
leaving the weightier affairs of the kingdom to the king. The
rest, for neglecting this precept, become villanous.

He evidently found in his " thousand-souled ' experience
that beyond the limits of home-life a little power in a woman
is a very dangerous thing.

PART II.

As a most important feature of the dominating fad seems
to be a feverish yearning to literally don man's crural appen-
dages, we will now glance at the characters Shakspere has
adorned with doublet and hose. These are perfect specimens
of womanhood. We will immediately see that they wore them

164 SHAKSPERE AND THE NEW WOMAN. [Nov.,

only on account of extreme exigency. The very thought of
donning them suffused their cheeks with the blush of maidenly
shame. We must also take into consideration that the parts
of maids were enacted by comely youths ; otherwise Shakspere
most likely would not have subjected his characters to what
was then considered so painfully delicate.

Probably the most beautiful creation of Shakspere's prolific
genius is the forest of Arden and its inhabitants, who " find
good in everything," and among these optimistic spirits heaven-
ly Rosalind appears like a bright exhalation, in whom

" Nature presently distilled
Helen's cheek, but not her heart,
Cleopatra's majesty,
Atalanta's better part,
Sad Lucretia's modesty.
Thus Rosalind of many parts
By heavenly synod was devised
To have the touches dearest prized."

-As You Like It, act Hi. scene 2.

Though she suffers much her father's banishment first and
then her own her temperament is so vivacious that we forget
all her sorrows. She makes life one ray of sunshine. In our
opinion she is the most delightfully witty person on Shakspere's
stage. Every word and motion seem to sparkle with life. So
exquisitely delicate is her wooing of Orlando that it is impossi-
ble to find the least cause for reproof. And how modest she
is ! Witness the artless delicacy with which she fears to let
Orlando see her arrayed in doublet and hose ; one of the most
perfect touches of refined womanly sensitiveness in literature.
To know such a woman is to love, admire, and emulate her.
We present her spotless character without commentary. Com-
parisons are odious.

Modest Viola is another of his irreproachable maids. She
is almost without blemish. What her brother says of her we
realize in all her actions : " She bore a mind that envy could
not but call fair." We first see her shipwrecked off the coast
of Illyria, mourning a twin brother she supposes dead, and
alone and friendless in the city. She first determines to serve
the gentle Olivia, who is also mourning a dead brother and
living the life of a recluse. But when Olivia's melancholy
makes this impossible, she decides to enter the service of the
reigning Duke, Orsino, whose name her father had often

1896.] SHAKSPERE AND THE NEW WOMAN, 165

mentioned honorably. Here we see how absolute necessity
compelled her to disguise as a boy. Her brother's garments
were at hand and just fitted her, so she made a virtue of
necessity and donned them. We know how unselfishly she hid
her own love, " till concealment like a worm i' the bud fed
on her damask cheek," and how she tried to prosper the
duke's love for Olivia. In fact she exemplifies the whole
history of a perfect woman's life, love, and suffering.

" In Belmont is a lady. . . .
And she is fair, and fairer than that word
Of wondrous virtues. . . .
Her name is Portia."

In this sweet lady we see an accomplished mind, admirable
wisdom, and humility so amiable that we love to contemplate
her character. Opulent in estates and endowed with great
personal beauty and with many virtues, when Bassanio chooses
the right casket she resigns herself and all her possessions to
the dear care of her future lord with a' most excellent grace,
and with the ingenuousness of the unschooled girl she terms
herself. It is only because the dear friend of her husband is
in sore danger of death that she consents to assume the garb
of a young lawyer, and with the information her cousin,
Bellario, sends her, to strive to avert the threatened danger.

With what consummate tact she conducts the trial ! Among
women in Shakspere she is assuredly the most perfect ex-
ample of that species of mind denominated by the ancients
Versatile ingenium." It is our opinion that the plan she
pursued was for the most part her own. Bellario probably gave
her a general definition of the case in point, but that, we
think, was all ; for he could hardly reveal to her the technical
flaw by which she circumvented the Jew, because she had little
or no time to be apprised of it before she set out for Venice ;
besides, he had no precedent to guide him in his instructions.

Note how deftly she led up to the conclusion. Her pure
Christian character prevented her from overwhelming Shylock
until she had given him every opportunity to show a merciful
disposition. But when he had refused thrice, nay, ten times his
principal, and continued to clamor for his "pound of flesh,"
then she saw the terrible, cold-blooded vindictiveness of the
usurer, and, like Jupiter fulminating over Greece, she let fall
the thunderbolt she had so long withheld.

Who does not commiserate the sufferings of Imogen, the

1 66 SHAKSPERE AND THE NEW WOMAN. [Nov.,

modern Lucrece ? Her lot indeed is most pathetic. Immedi-
ately after their marriage her husband is exiled, and she is left
a prey to the designs of a cruel step-dame and the reproaches
of her uxorious father. Then her husband's foolish wager with
lachimo subjects her to the villany of that unprincipled scoun-
drel ; and finally when her husband's cruel message to his servant,
ordering her death, reaches her, despair and anguish render her
helpless. To escape from her step-mother, her father, and the
boorish clout, Cloten, who distresses her with his persistent at-
tentions, and to approach near her husband, she apparels her-
self like a youth. Thus we see it is no idle caprice that
causes her to don man's envied garb ; for she had to journey
over wild courses, and in those tempestuous times a woman
was not treated with the degree of chivalry that is now almost
instinctively accorded.

In the " Two Gentlemen of Verona ' we see that the same
cause impels Julia to attire herself as a page. She slightly
suspects Proteus' inconstancy, and thereupon determines to
visit him ; but she says :

" Not like a woman ; for I would prevent

The loose encounter of lascivious men,"
therefore

" Befit me with such weeds

As may beseem some well-reputed page."

Two Gentlemen of Verona, act ii. scene 7.

Notwithstanding the moral depravity of those times, what
excellent examples of admirable virtue do these two women
(who, no doubt, speak for their whole sex) display !

PART III.

" To know a good woman in the serenity of her excellence
is to stand in the presence of God's angels. For not even the
whitest asphodel that grows on the heavenly hill is purer." Of
such women Shakspere's works are an apotheosis. He calls man
the paragon of animals, but the purity and gentleness and dig-
nity of character with which he enhalos his good women make
them the paragon of men.

Richard Grant White tells us that Shakspere in no instance
speaks in a complimentary manner of women in general or ab-
stractly ; but can there be a higher encomium on all that we
associate of beautiful, virtuous, and amiable in her than the
perfect types he has delineated?

Such a woman is Cordelia, the loving though unsophisticated

1896.] SHAKSPERE AND THE NEW WOMAN. 167

daughter of Lear. She is one of Shakspere's best-drawn char-
acters, for he lavishes upon her every virtue especially filial
love and conjugal fidelity. When her charming sisters asseverate
their love for Lear with swelling hyperboles, she is too sincere
in hers to attempt outwording them. " I am sure my love's
more richer than my tongue." Her affection immeasurably ex-
ceeds what their selfish natures ever could bestow ; still she
cannot with truth call it of that "beyond beyond' to which
they swear. For she says :

" Haply, when I wed,

That lord whose hand shall take my plight shall carry
Half my love with him, half my care and duty."

Lear, act i. scene i.

It is useless to enumerate the perfidious conduct of Goneril
and Regan, for the whole reading world is too familiar with
their demoniac treatment of their poor old father, and their in-
fidelity to their husbands.

This is again a refutation of the fallacy that women with
extreme power remain the same lovable creatures with which
we naturally connect the mention of their sex.

Cordelia, however, strives to repair the distresses wrought
in her " child-changed father ' by his " dog-hearted daughters."
Her failure and sad end we lament, but her pure Christian life
is an example to all good women.

Calpurnia and Brutus' Portia, Jessica and Virgilia, Celia,
Hero, Bianca, and* Silvia are all characters whose names alone
suffice to extol the womanly dignity of their lives. No carping
criticism can find fault with the gentle elements that combined
to make them perfect in their respective states of wifehood
and motherhood. Would that all Mother Eve's daughters
merited the fame that attaches to these gentle personages.

Desdemona, a gem of Shakspere's creative art, may be

called a dutiful daughter, though she set the authority of her

father at naught when she married Othello, for her young life

was passed in the loving labor of beautifying her father's home

in replacing the gentle influence of her departed mother.

" Here is my husband ;
And so much duty as my mother showed
To you, preferring you before her father,
So much I challenge that I may profess

Due to the Moor, my lord."

Othello, act i. scene 2.

1 68 SHAKSPERE AND THE NEW WOMAN. [Nov.,

In describing Desdemona Shakspere gives us an ideal de-
scription of an ideal woman alas ! not as the New Woman
would have her, but as God created her :

" A maiden never bold ;

Of spirit so still and quiet that her motion
Blushed at herself." Ibid., act i. scene 2.

We have frequently heard Shakspere's Beatrice spoken of
as gentle, wise, and witty, and, in fact, rated among the fore-
most of his heroines. We cannot see the justice of such an
encomium. With the exception of a faint ray of sunshine to-
wards the end, her character is a clouded one. She uses quite
too frequently and bitterly her tongue, a woman's most power-
ful weapon :

" She speaks poniards, and every word stabs : if her breath
were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near
her ; she would infect to the north star." -Much Ado about Noth-
ing, act ii. scene i.

Her talk, or rather chatter, descends at times to positive
vulgarity. The voice of a woman is a most excellent thing
when gently modulated and " not stepping o'er the bounds of
modesty," but otherwise it is her greatest enemy. Xanthippe
tried the patience of even long-suffering Socrates ; Beatrice, we
are sorry to say, tries ours.

In the beautiful characters of Miranda and Perdita a cer-
tain friend of ours may learn a great lesson. Whatever is
done naturally is certainly the criterion for all the conditions
of life. These charming maids pass their lives far from civili-
zation, yet they are exemplars for many society-nurtured ladies.
Both are obedient to their natural protectors, and both display
an exquisite delicacy in all their actions.

In contrast with his other heroic characters they are
p'urely passive, but their delineation is a triumph to the poet's
art. Without any of those external concomitants of place, rank,
or surroundings connected with his other characters, but with
the aid of nature alone, he has given us two of the most " ex-
quisite ladies ' in poem, play, or story.

Finally we come to the New Woman's greatest contradic-
tion, Katharine the Shrew.

"Young and beauteous' and "brought up as best becomes
a gentlewoman," she unfortunately is of so headstrong and

1896.] SHAKSPERE AND THE NEW WOMAN. 169

self-willed a disposition that she cannot bear the least opposi-
tion to any of her caprices. Petruchio saw the real sterling
merit of Katharine and felt that she would make an excellent
wife if her shrewishness were removed. How well he succeeded
in doing this we fully know. Perhaps the methods he adopted
will, of necessity, have to come into vogue again among fathers
and husbands in our advanced period of civilization.

As a wife Katharine, we certainly know, is equal to the
most perfect among Shakspere's characters. Her advice to all
women wives particularly is better than the most eloquent
sermon on the subject. We give it in full, and thus fittingly
close this essay :

"A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty ;
And while it is so none so ,dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign ; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance commits his body
To painful labor both by sea and land,
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe ;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks, and true obedience ;
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince
Even such a woman oweth to her husband ;
And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul contending rebel
And graceless traitor to her loving lord ?
I am ashamed that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace,
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions (tempers) and our hearts
Should well agree with our external parts ? '

Taming of the Shrew, act v. scene 2.

170 To GLADSTONE. [Nov.

TO GLADSTONE.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

HE trance of age o'ercomes thee,
Chieftain of the clarion tongue !
On whose notes the nations hung :
The frosts of time benumb thee,
While the Moslem's sword is swung !

That sword ! ah, well thou know'st,

Champion of each weaker race !

What red lines its edge can trace
Hell-charts where blooms earth the most,

Nature's shame and man's disgrace.

Sad Armenia wails her fairest,

Spared the sword for foulest ends ;
While her crimsoned robe she rends

For her bravest and her rarest.
Candia's cry to heaven ascends.

Time was that cry had roused thee,
Shepherd of the weaklings' fold !
Like to Roland's blast of old :

Alas ! that age hath drowsed thee,
And thy noble rage made cold.

Oh, would that God might lend thee
Strength anew of voice and frame
To waken Europe to her blame

Ithuriel's spear might send thee
To strike this fiend of shame !

1/2

MONICA.

[Nov.,

MONICA.

BY EASTON SMITH.

RED, I am in trouble again," I remarked to my
brother, who was lounging lazily in a hammock
puffing the smoke of a Spanish cigarito up into
the clear blue New Mexican sky.

"What is it this time?" asked Fred. "Has
the nurse another attack of nostalgia, induced by a too close
attention to our cosmopolitan bill of fare? I have observed
that all Sarah's fits of home-sickness have, heretofore, been the
result of gastric rather than mental disturbance. Or has an-
other laundress skipped town, taking with her your choicest
handkerchiefs and leaving, by way of compensation, your last
week's wash untouched ? '

"Oh! Sa'rah is all right; it is the washer-woman of course.
They make my life a burden," I reply, regardless of grammar.
" Just as soon as I find one who can do the baby's things at
all decently she is called to a higher avocation, or her back gets
too ' weak for laundry-work,' or else she leaves town altogether."

" Why not try one of the innumerable Sing Foos or Ah
Lees whose celestial signs are about the only evidences of busi-
ness one sees in this benighted section of the terrestrial sphere
saloons and " gin-mills," of course, excepted."

" And have all of Robert's dainty little clothes brought
,home in ribbons ? No, I thank you. I had enough of Chinese
laundry-work the first few weeks I was here ; they do very
well for some things, but for Boy's clothes never ! '

. "Well, try a Mexican," suggested my brother as he started
off for his morning walk, leaving me to settle the domestic pro-
blem as best I could. We had been in Los Pinos nearly three
months, having transported thither our Lares and Penates in
order to escape the rigors of a New England March, for Fred's
lungs were delicate, and since the death of his idolized wife,
eighteen months before, his strength seemed to be gradually
failing. The inability to interest one's self in anything of this
earth which is so apt to follow a blinding grief, such as death
alone can cause when he snatches from us all that made life
worth living, frequently results in a physical languor which, in
my- brothers case, the doctor feared might prove serious. So

1896.] MONICA. 173

he was ordered to New Mexico, the land of poco tiempo (by and
by), as Charles Lummis so aptly calls it; of perpetual sunshine
and cloudless skies ; in the hope that a change of scene as well
as of climate might help to heal the wounds which Time, that
over-vaunted physician, had thus far failed to cure. And since
Robert, his only child, could not be left behind nor could
" Boy," as we loved to call him, go anywhere without auntie-
we soon found ourselves, a party of four including Sarah, quiet-
ly settled in a large-roomed adobe building that looked as if
it might have been designed by the Aztecs ages ago, but which,
with the addition of numerous piazzas and a modern brick
dining-room, made a very desirable caravansary for the dozen
or more semi-invalids who constituted its permanent boarders.
I found myself agreeably surprised at the satisfaction with
which I could contemplate another two months in the little
Mexico-American village so far removed from the world's " mad-
ding crowd." Why it was ever called Los Pinos no one knows,
unless on the principle of so many names which seem given
solely because of their inaptness ; such misnomers occur so
frequently in this portion of the Occident that one is led to
believe they are conferred by some humorous individual whose
sense of irony is stronger than his regard for the " eternal verities."

I had not yet tired of the ever-changing panorama of cow-
boys and Mexicans, Chinamen and Indians, all so foreign to
my Yankee eyes, who came and went through the sun-baked
streets, or lounged about the ill-kept apologies for stores ; nor
of the blinding sunshine, nor the long, weary droughts. It was
a picturesque, odd-looking place ; a typical frontier town,
where handsome modern residences jostled their humble adobe
neighbors, and corrals were erected with a reckless disregard
of propinquity to the dwellings of the most prominent citi-
zens. No one could call Los Pinos a thriving or promising
settlement : its boom, if it ever had one, had long folded its
tent like the Arabs, and as silently stolen away. The views
were charming, after one got accustomed to the lofty, ragged
mountains, almost entirely destitute of verdure ; in place of the
ever-changing foliage trees that crown our Eastern hills there
were here only the shifting shadows from the fleecy, fleeting
clouds overhead, the diflerent-hued rocks, and tall, white-belled
yuccas to lend variety to the cliffs and crags of the Sierra Madre.

I was standing by the window watching a burro come down
the street followed by its owner, a stout Mexican attired in
blue overalls and silver-braided sombrero (incongruity is the

i/4 MONICA. [Nov.,

most striking feature of Mexican apparel). The poor heavily-
laden beast accepted with passive indifference the blows that
were every now and again showered upon it.

"How unfortunate," I mused, "that the S. P. C. A. should
confine itself to more civilized communities, where surely its ser-
vices are not in such constant requisition." I must confess,
however, that the iniquities of that particular son of the South
did not arouse me to a proper state of indignation, for the
shortcomings of the African race still rankled in my bosom. A
tap at the door and the entrance of the chamber-maid distracted
my attention, and I turned to her with a sigh of expectant relief.

" Well, Martha, have you heard of any one ? '

" There is no one but that girl I told you about the other
day, mum. Monica is her name, and she is really a very good
washer, even if she ain't very good herself."

" That pretty Mexican of whom you spoke to me last month ? '

" Yes'm ; she was here yesterday, mum ; seemed anxious to
get your wash. I told her to come again this morning and I
would ask you about it."

"I suppose I had better take her, Martha, much as I dis-
like coming in contact with a person of her character ; but there
seems to be no alternative."

" La, mum ! ' replied the maid with homely wisdom, " I ex-
pect you have come in contact with lots of worse women than her
only you did not know it. Rich folks can always cover up their
cussedness, while poor ones just have to bide the consequences."

As she left the room I could not help feeling some re-
morse ; surely here was a more Christian spirit than I possessed,
in spite of superior advantages of education and religion. In-
deed, did not my religion teach me to hold out a helping hand
to those stragglers who had fallen by the wayside ? and in-
stead of so doing I had refused to this one the slight assist-
ance that lay in my power. Perhaps it was just such Phari-
sees as I that first drove this poor Magdalen to sin ! I was
working myself up into quite a state of righteous indignation
-whether it came from my trying to make a virtue of necessity
or from more spiritual motives I had not time to determine
before a rather peremptory knock at the door interrupted my
meditations. I opened it and fell back in astonishment. Mar-
tha's description had not prepared me for the rare beauty of
the girl who stood before me.

She had the dark, lustrous eyes and long, black lashes that
characterize her race, the same red lips ; but her face was oval,

1896.] MONICA. 175

and, instead of the swarthy skin of the average Mexican, hers
was a clear, rich olive, while a beautifully shaped mouth and
small, regular teeth made, up an almost perfect face. She was
tall and slight, though well rounded, and her tiny hands and feet

" Showed that there ran in each blue vein,
Mixed with the humble Aztec strain,
The nobler vintage of old Spain."

A smile of amused self-consciousness, as she noted my ex-
pression of amazement, proved that she was thoroughly accus-
tomed to making an impression, and, woman-like, enjoyed it.

Could this radiant creature, with the eyes of a pet Alder-
ney and the pose of a Juno, be the girl who had long been
town-talk for her numerous and questionable love-affairs? She
had not the appearance of a bold woman, and when she began
to talk in her childish broken English my heart quite went
out to her, and I quickly forgot my former prejudices in a de-
sire to act as her friend. She was well-dressed and apparently
so far above the menial labor of washing that I hesitated to
broach the subject ; but she had no such false pride, and in a
very business-like way made a satisfactory bargain.

After that I saw a great deal of my protegee, as Frank per-
sisted in calling her. In order to do a little "home missionary
work," for I began to feel Monica's shortcomings weigh upon
my own conscience, I would try to detain her whenever she
came for or brought the clothes, and encourage her to talk
about herself. It was not a difficult task, and after awhile
she began to come to see me of her own accord ; sometimes
to bring me flowers, but usually her only excuse was to see
and play with the baby, of whom she seemed passionately fond.
He fully reciprocated her attachment, and it was a pretty sight
to see the two playing together on the vine-clad balcony on to
which our rooms opened, his golden curls mingling with her
dark ones as she told him stories or showed him picture-books
while the nurse Sarah, glad to be relieved of her lively charge,
dozed stealthily in a shady corner of the veranda.

Robert was such a rollicking, affectionate little chap, friendly
to every one with whom he came in contact, that, to our fond
eyes at least, it was small wonder Monica should want to be
with him. He was the pet of the hotel, and his small favors
were eagerly coveted by all, from the proprietor down to that
man-of-all-work who answered to the effective title of bell-boy,
but who served in numerous and sundry capacities. As the

176 MONICA. "Nov.,

" Tremont ' could not boast of such modern improvements as
bells, his office in that particular direction was a sinecure.

" How did you happen to be called Monica?' asked Frank
one day, coming out on the balcony where we were all sitting.
" It is not an ordinary name, nor one to be found among your
tutelar saints."

" No, seflor, but my father gave it to me ; he was a very
learned man was my father could read in many languages and
speak several. He married beneath him, seftor."

" Was he a Catholic as well as your mother ? '

" Si, sefiora, but he knew a great deal ; I dare say if he had
lived I would be going to church too, but these Mexicans-
bah ! ' And Monica's tone fully indicated the contempt in which
she held her fellow-countrymen.

Her non-attendance at the quaint old adobe church since
her mother's death-bed had been a source of considerable scan-
dal to the Catholic members of the community, and of much
anxiety to the energetic little foreign priest, who was always
kept in a state of ferment by the unruly members of his hete-
rogeneous flock. He called to see me one day after Monica had
been several weeks in my employ and begged me to use my in-
fluence to bring her back to the fold. It was from him I gleaned
the story of her life a very sad one, for the poor girl was with-
out any family and had few friends among her own countrymen.

Her father had been a gentleman of good family in the city
of Mexico, but he left his home in a fit of political pique and
never returned. Late in life he married a pretty Mexican girl,
utterly without education, but who made a good wife to him
and a loving mother to Monica, their only child. His death,
which occurred some years previous to the time my story opens,
was closely followed by that of his wife, and the orphan girl,
to whose superior birth the fact of her unpopularity was largely
due, had been left to grow up without guidance or control.

" I do not believe half the things these old scandal-mongers
say about her," continued the priest; " but she will not go to
church, and she sets a bad example to the other half-grown
members of my congregation. It is now over two years since
she went to her duties, and when I remonstrate with her she
only shrugs her shoulders and laughs. She is a great cross to
me, mademoiselle," said the poor father with a sigh that came
from his heart. I promised to do my best, but met with slight
encouragement, for Monica evinced considerable skill in avoid-
ing all conversation that promised to take a religious turn,

1896.] MONICA. 177

and her place on the bare, dark-colored benches that served
as pews in the little church remained vacant.

And now June had come ! Not the riotous, laughing June
with its perfumes of rose and honeysuckle, its languorous
zephyrs and cool shading trees ; but a dry, parched June, so
dry that even the hardy wild flowers of the country around
drooped and withered, and only the prickly cacti and paper-
like poppies found courage to bloom in any profusion. For
seven long months not a drop of rain had fallen ; now at last
the wet season was approaching, and its advent, as a conversa-
tional topic, almost rivalled in interest the latest shooting scrape.

" Should not be surprised if we had heavy floods this year,"
said one " old-timer ' to me ; " there was an uncommon large
fall of snow last winter in the mountains."

" Are they ever disastrous?' I inquired.

" Well, they swept away a good part of the town in '84 ;
and year before last a man with his horse and wagon were
caught in the gulch below Timmer's and drowned. Man was
drunk, though, or he could have got away."

"Why, that is the place where Robert is so fond of going;
there are lots of wild flowers growing around there, and once
or twice, I believe, he has seen a jack-rabbit."

" There is not much danger of his getting caught in a flood,
ma'am, as they usually come down at night ; but Timmer's is
not a good place for kids ; you never know but what a rattler
may be lurking under the boulders, and I would advise you to
tell the nurse to choose some other play-ground."

This conversation took place on the morning of the tenth
of June ; I will never forget that date, for it ushered in one of
the worst storms I ever witnessed. All day long the dust had
been rising in clouds, penetrating the closed doors and windows,
and suffocating us with its alkaline fineness. At noon distant
rumbles of thunder were heard ; the sky for yards above the
horizon lost its azure tint and became yellow with the dust
that entirely hid the surrounding mountains from our view.
The wind increased a hot, scorching wind which changed to
an almost icy coldness as the storm burst upon us. It was of
short duration, but was gladly hailed as the forerunner of the
longed-for rainy season. Every day for two weeks we had the
same heavy showers ; then the sky resumed its wonted garb of
impenetrable blue, the freshened hills put forth new flowers,
and babbling streams ran through the dusty arroyas, a boon
indeed to the poor thirsty cattle.
VOL. LXIV. 12

i/8 MONICA. [Nov.,

It was Robert's third birthday, and we had promised to
celebrate the occasion by taking him to Timmer's gulch, his
favorite rendezvous, which had been interdicted since I was
warned regarding rattlesnakes.

The little fellow was jubilant ; with the dignity of his three
years he felt the glory of manhood fast approaching. But the
blind goddess, Fate who, in spite of mythological authority,
keeps, I have always believed, an open and malignant eye upon
the doings of mortals here below changed our plans.

Fred was obliged to go some miles in the country to inspect
a newly-discovered mine, and I was helpless from one of those
sudden and violent attacks of neuralgia to which I had been a
victim ever since we came to Los Pinos. Strange as it seems,
one suffers most acutely in a high, dry altitude from all forms
of neuralgia and rheumatism.

I hated to disappoint the baby of his trip ; so, after repeated
injunctions to Sarah, I finally yielded to his entreaties and
allowed them to go their way rejoicing. The two hours that
elapsed seemed but a few seconds when Fred's entrance
aroused me from the heavy sleep into which I had fallen after
taking a narcotic to relieve the pain that stiM racked my poor
head. I gazed at him in alarm ; he was drenched with rain
and very much excited.

"Come to the balcony quickly !' he exclaimed, holding out a
gossamer for my protection. " I have just got home in time ;
there is an awful flood coming down from the mountains, and
I want you to see it. Where is Robert ? '

"Robert? Flood?' I gasped, sinking back on the pillows
as there arose before my numbed brain visions of my baby
carried away in the swirling waters of Timmer's gulch. " O
Fred! he is lost."

" Lost ! Who ? Where ? For God's sake tell me quickly ;
there is not a moment to spare."

But I had already started for the stairs, explaining the
situation as I went, and madly praying that the nurse might
have had sufficient warning to secure her precious charge
before the flood was upon them. The storm had ceased, and
in the distance we could hear a dull rumbling sound as of the
rushing of many waters.

The gulch was about a quarter of a mile below town,
accessible only by a rough foot-path which required careful
treading at the best of times, and which was now, owing to
the rain, almost impassable. . On I sped, regardless of the

1 896.] MONICA . 1 79

jagged rocks and thorny plants that tore my flesh and held me
back. Others, catching the alarm from our wild exit, pressed
on towards Fred, who was far ahead, leaving me to " fall by
the wayside," for my strength was nearly exhausted.

At last I reached an eminence overlooking the cafion and
stopped, frozen with horror at the sight below : on one of the
huge rocks, not yet submerged, stood our darling clapping his
dimpled hands as the angry waters rushed by, and calling to
"papa" to "turn see the pretty foam." A few yards below
me, on a narrow ledge, were gathered several men, who by
main force kept Frank from plunging in after his child. Their
voices floated up to me above the sound of the angry flood.

" It is no use, Mr. Adair ; no man living could breast that
tide. You will not save the boy, and will meet with certain
death yourself. For God's sake don't attempt it ; but if you
believe there is a God, pray to him now that the water may
spend itself without rising higher."

And rough men, who probably had not said a prayer since they
were innocent children at their mothers' knee, doffed their hats
and bowed their heads in humble reverence as Frank sent up a
fervent petition to the throne of grace. The prayer was answered !

Dashing through, or rather drifting with the raging torrent,
came a sight that caused a cheer to re-echo from the rugged
crowd on the ledge, and a thrill of hope shot through me, hope-
less as the situation looked : Monica, on a horse, urging with
spur and whip the frightened animal towards the rock where
Robert stood no longer smiling, for his little heart has caught
the infection of danger, and his mouth quivers pitifully as he hears
his father's voice telling him to be a good boy and not move.

At first it seemed impossible for Monica to guide the horse
struggling with the debris that whirled past it ; but after some
fruitless efforts she succeeded, and, with Robert grasped firmly
in one brown arm, she drew near the bank. Outstretched hands
received the child, but ere Monica could be lifted to a place of
safety a loosened boulder fell, striking with crushing force
both horse and rider. The frightened animal gave a cry of
igony, a leap ; we caught one glimpse of Monica's white face,
ind then they were carried past us down with the flood !

An hour later Monica was lying on my bed, her sweet face
>ruised and disfigured, and an ugly gash across her forehead
where the rock had struck her. All the medical skill that the
little town afforded had been summoned ; but they gave us scanty
hope. She might linger until morning, they said ; but her

i8o MONICA. [Nov.,

recovery was impossible, as she had received fatal internal
injuries. Poor little Monica, brave in death as she had been in
life, heard the sentence calmly ; she asked for the priest, and,
after receiving the last sacraments, motioned me to come to her.

" Do not cry, sefiora ; I am not sorry to die. I have been
such a wicked girl since my mother left me, but now the padre
says all my sins are washed away ; and I saved him the
dear little baby that I loved so much ! I have tried to be
better ever since he first toddled into my arms ; he made me
good ; so you see if I saved his life, he has perhaps saved my
soul. Pray for me, sefiora, and do not let ' Boy ' forget me."

Her voice grew fainter, and beckoning to Frank to bring
the baby, I lifted him up to give poor Monica the last kiss she
would ever receive in this world. She smiled, and with that
smile her soul passed beyond all reach of pain and sorrow,
across the river of death to that fair land which God has
promised to all those who love him and keep his commandments.

With loving hands we arrayed her for the grave as for a
bridal, and the procession that followed her to the little Catho-
lic cemetery was the largest funeral cortege ever seen in Los
Pinos ; for Monica's tragic death had enveloped her with a
halo of glory in the minds of her warm-hearted, impulsive
countrymen, and crowned her as a heroine in the eyes of the
entire community. All her shortcomings were forgotten, her
sins forgiven by the social Areopagites of Los Pinos. Can we
doubt that her heavenly Judge would be less merciful ?

As soon as possible after Monica was buried we said good-
by to the blue skies and rugged slopes of New Mexico ; sum-
mer was well upon us, and there was now no reason to delay
our return to the North. Both Frank and I wished to leave
the scene of the tragedy which had so closely touched our
own lives. Indeed I could not again trust Robert out of my
sight ; for in spite of the nurse's repeated and tearful explana-
tions, I felt that to her carelessness poor Monica's death was
largely due. And as we steamed out of the queer, cosmopoli-
tan town that for four months we had called home, past the
desolate cemetery with its graves of crumbling clay and its
neglected lots bordered with stones carelessly heaped together,
the^sunlight fell in dazzling rays upon a marble cross bearing
the simple inscription

MONICA.

June 20, 1894.

"And a little child shall lead them."

1896.] GENOA AND ITS CAMPO SANTO. 181

GENOA AND ITS CAMPO SANTO.

BY F. M. EDSELAS.

5 F course in our Italian travels Genoa was not to
be overlooked the city that gave us our coun-
try's discoverer, Columbus. Throned like a
queen on the historic gulf, its beauty and mag-
nificence, as viewed from the sea, render it
worthy the title conferred on it La Superbia.

A splendid panorama is indeed presented : the hills, crowd-
ing one another and sloping in terraces to the blue Mediter-
ranean, are here and there relieved by lovely gardens and
groves of olive, orange, and pomegranate, radiant with blossoms
and fruit even in December, when an occasional light snow
veils these blushing beauties. Between them tower lofty
churches and palaces, with hotels and private residences, while
as a magnificent background to the picture we see lofty
mountains rising peak upon peak and capped with forts, bat-
teries, and bastions, veritable sentinels guarding the city. In
truth its natural defences equal those of Gibraltar, and with
similar equipments it could easily be rendered as impregnable.

The energy, thrift, and adventurous spirit of the Genoese
have admirably fitted them to cope with their rivals and peers
in every age and among all peoples. As the sea-gate of Italy
she outranks in commerce all other cities of the peninsula.
New lines of railways and steamers have added much to her
well-established prestige.

A fine harbor, something less than a mile in diameter,
opens its capacious arms to vessels of the largest size, and
though often subject to a heavy swell, caused by south-west
winds, the captain assured us that it was one of the safest
along the Mediterranean. So much for this city by the sea
viewed from a respectful distance, which, as we know, too
often lends an illusive enchantment to scenes that do not im-
prove upon closer acquaintance ; in fact Genoa gave us more
than one such disappointment.

It must have been built, like many other sea-ports, without
any regular plan. Starting from the coast, the settlers "staked
their claims " as convenience or necessity required, thus gradu-

1 82 GENOA AND ITS CAMPO SANTO. [Nov.,

ally advancing to the more elevated portions. But when or by
whom settled is not positively known.

If, however, the Genoese take any pride in their ancient
lineage it must be fully gratified, since a sort of traditionary
legend traces the name Genoa to Janus, King of Italy and great-
grandson of Noe. I was not credulous enough to accept this
version as a fact, though confirmed by an inscription in the
cathedral ; it seemed more reasonable to believe that Genoa
was derived from genu, the Latin for knee, its coast having
that shape. Still, however doubtful the origin, certain it is
that the present city is a perfect labyrinth of streets to the
pilgrim stranger within the 'gates ; few of these are accessible
to any but foot-passengers and pack-mules. Thus the architec-
tural beauty of the finest buildings is lost from being hemmed
in so closely. An added tingling of the heart-strings brings a
blush of shame and sorrow that so many of those grand old
palazzos, dating back to the stirring days of the republic,
should have fallen from their high estate to serve the ignoble
ends of traffic, as in common hotels, business houses, etc.

Some of them recall the eventful days of 1528, when that
noble-hearted patriot, Andrea Doria, like another Washington,
freed his countrymen from foreign oppressors, giving them the
citizenship of a republic. Two are still preserved in something
of their ancient splendor the Palazzo Ducale, once the resi-
dence of the doges, now used as a senate house ; the other,
the Palazzo Doria, formerly occupied by the great president
during his official term, both worthy of the high purpose they
once served.

Not so, however, the home of Columbus on the Borgo
Lanajoli, a narrow, ill-kept street so narrow indeed that the
houses tower up six times higher than its width, and with its
steep ascent can only be traversed by foot or hand-carts. This,
the home of the great discoverer's boyhood, is well assured ;
but that of his birth remains still uncertain, many of the coast
villages claiming the honor, as also the neighboring Corsica,
already so famed.

The Columbus house, now belonging to the state, is unoc-
cupied, and so closely boarded up that it can only be entered
by scaling-ladders : we did not avail ourselves of this method,
time and ability being wanting ; but the dilapidated appear-
ance of the exterior reflected little credit upon the beneficiar-
ies of him who gave a new world to the old. Lingering at
the portal, we fancied the boy-adventurer looking from an

1896.]

GENOA AND ITS CAMPO SANTO.

183

1 84 GENOA AND ITS CAMPO SANTO. [Nov.,

upper window across the broad sea, linked to the still broader
one beyond ; and, as he studied map and globe, even then
framed the plan and purpose to be so gloriously consummated
in after years. But we could not tarry, and so hastened from
the narrow alley out into more spacious parts of the city ; here
palaces of historic or artistic interest won our admiration by
their beauty of design, so massive in conception, yet always
with that marvellous delicacy in completion which superior
genius ever stamps upon its work.

Lofty marble columns enclosing superb corridors often led
the way to galleries of paintings real treasures and master-
pieces of art. Delicately carved marble statuary also held an
honored place there, so realistic that touch alone could at
times convince us that life was wanting.

With these were bits of ancient sculpture, rescued by the
archaeologist from their long-buried tombs ; and though dis-
figured by time and the spoiler's hand, yet they still and will
ever win and hold the admiration of the world ; the intense,
essential beauty marking each delicate curve and outline of the
shattered marble lingers still glorifying, dare we say, almost
beatifying it.

Time, as with most travellers, being a limited quantity, we
had mapped our route accordingly, giving less to Genoa than
to other cities that we thought of more, though some proved
to be of less importance than La Superbia.

Having, then, paid our homage to the most attractive por-
tions of this quaint old town, we were ready to book our names
for the evening steamer en route for southern Italy.

"That will not do," said a more experienced tourist of our
party ; " you have not yet visited the Campo Santo, and surely
no one has really seen Genoa if that is left out."

"And what may that be?' I asked.

"The Holy Field, or cemetery; and I am sure that your
country, great though it be, is yet far too prosaic to carry art
and imagination to the extent you will see it exemplified at
the Campo Santo."

Enough : we were not registered for that day's steamer, but
instead turned our steps toward the beautiful cemetery of
Genoa. The day cool, clear, and delightful ; the guide, well
primed for the occasion, with a soft liquid Italian accent to
his broken English, pointed out objects of interest as we
walked or drove through the narrow, crowded streets with open
shops on either side, where we stopped now and then to make

1896.]

GENOA AND ITS CAMPO SANTO.

185

purchases of something rare or beautiful, unique or useful, so
temptingly displayed. Long would we have lingered amidst
these attractions, but with a regretful au revoir were compelled
to hasten on to far different scenes, leading us from the busy
haunts of men.

"There it is," exclaimed our tourist friend, pointing to a
slightly elevat-
ed enclosure-
"the veritable
Campo Santo !
Isn't it more
than beauti-
ful even from
here?"

"Yes, yes!"
was the joyous
verdict.

" Wait till
we are within ;
then "

" But you
don't really
mean to say
this is a ceme-
tery?"

" In fact it
is that and no-
thing else."

"Why it
looks more like
an art-gallery
surrounding a
lovely garden
than a dismal
burial place," I
continued ; and

such indeed it proved as, coming still nearer, we found the open
galleries to be formed of magnificent white marble monuments,
while the sunny, verdant hills, like so many faithful guardians,
kept watch and ward over these abodes of peaceful rest. But
this was as the mere setting of a precious jewel to one of the
most charming spots it has been my good fortune to behold.
For in addition were lovely, fragrant flowers, shady trees with

THE HOUSES TOWER UP six TIMES HIGHER THAN THE WIDTH

OF THE STREET.

1 86 GENOA AND ITS CAMPO SANTO. [Nov.,

wreaths of green and immortelles twined together, through
which could be seen the wonderful statuary ; arched by
heaven's blue dome, the whole scene made radiant by Italians
brilliant sunlight, left a picture on memory's tablet never to
be effaced.

Yet the Campo Santo's attractions were still but half re-
vealed ; those we had seen could be easily pictured to the
mind. Not so readily the monuments and memorial statuary.
Were it not for the garlands and silken sashes, swinging lamps
and inscriptions, one would say at once, this must be a
gallery of sculpture ; indeed there was suggestion of little
else.

Still more, in the statues themselves imagination had no
part ; all was so true to nature, vivid and life-like. One of
these monuments, so marvellous, represents a family gathered
around the death-bed of a loved and loving father. From the
sculptor's genius has been chiselled, not merely a couch in dull,
cold marble ; no, we see before us the exact counterpart of real
bed, drapery, ornaments and all ; again we cannot be satisfied
until, by touch, the counterfeit is revealed, perfect in every-
thing except reality.

There is the bereaved wife supported by one of her daugh-
ters, both kneeling at the bedside. The aged mother, sitting
in an easy-chair, her eyes raised to heaven, seems pouring forth
the prayer of grief and supplication so fervently that we feel
her lips must move. On the opposite side of the bed stands
the son consoling his sister ; while one holds a blessed candle
in his father's trembling hands, the other presents a crucifix,
thus animating faith and love by the image of his dying
Saviour. The whole scene a marvellous triumph of genius and
art ; or better still, religion there finds its Consummatmn est :
truly the "Last Farewell' created in marble, as if nature and
art had met as rivals ; and yet all so real and lifelike that
the originals in that group of mourners might be easily recog-
nized by passers-by on the street.

Near by is the figure of a little girl, carved on a marble
column, looking as if she had carelessly dropped down to enjoy
the beautiful flowers with which her lap is filled ; so full of
pure delight is her innocent face, that you involuntarily pause
listening for the merry laugh just ready to break forth, and
feeling sure she will at once step out to share with you those
lovely blossoms.

Under another archway a beloved husband and wife lie

1896.] GENOA AND ITS CAMPO SANTO. 187

buried. They are represented above the tomb, clasping hands
and sitting as of yore in their arm-chairs.

A little further on a widowed mother appears standing on
the steps of a tomb, while she holds up her little one as if
ready to kiss his dead papa. The same mutual love and
tenderness of parent and child the world over through all ages,
linking life with death, were symbolized with infinite pathos by
these in memoriams, as we passed them one by one.

The door of another vault appears half open ; within lies a
dead husband, while the sorrowing, wife is represented knocking
at the door and waiting for the response, " Come in."

Thus we went on, noting one by one the unique and ex-
quisite beauty of these memorials of undying, devoted love,
seeming to echo the chaire, or " Hail ' and " Farewell," so
often seen on Grecian burial tablets. All were so touching in
this strange mystery of death, so full of human experience, as
we recalled our loved ones gone before ; verily it is these
touches of nature that " make the whole world kin."

These veritable master-pieces, for such in truth they were,
may be numbered by the hundreds. The figures always appear
in modern costume and ordinary dress, the minutest details
being brought out to perfection. We saw this specially marked
in one piece of sculpture over the tomb of an Italian lady.
She had just breathed her last ; the angel messenger is ready
to bear her away. As represented just leaving the bed, she
takes the angel's hand, who points upward to the heavenly
home awaiting her. Involuntarily we pause for the end of the
beautiful scene, but it comes not save in our imagination.

And so past the many and marvellously varied figures of
the Campo S.anto we regretfully wend our way. Genius had
indeed left touches of exquisite skill and classic beauty every-
where ; we lingered, held by its magic charm. Immortality
seems there embodied, so that, with faith and love intensified
as never before, we could only utter the joyful, Credo in resur-
rectionem mortuorum.

Yet, while filled with admiration at the wonders wrought by
the sculptor's chisel, our general impressions were not altogether
pleasing. One cannot deny the charms of ideals at once
memorable and breathing an exquisite beauty almost divine ;
truly miracles in marble have those sculptors wrought in the
marvellous figures of the Campo Santo ; yet, with our un-
measured delight in them as works of art, the grand sublimity
of death seemed wanting where all was so real and life-like-

i88

GENOA AND ITS CAMPO SANTO.

[Nov.,

ONE OF THE MOST ATTRACTIVE SQUARES OF THE OLD TOWN.

1896.] GENOA AND ITS CAMPO SANTO. 189

an impression doubtless formed by habit and association. Hence
with genuine pleasure we turned to more lowly graves, marked
by a simple cross, on which a few immortelles or fresh violets
appealed more tenderly to our loving sympathy than the
grander memorials which had first attracted us thither.

"This seems more like our own cemeteries," said one of
our party as we paused before one and another of these
humble mounds, recalling our own beloved dead; "but why do
they call this ' The Campo Santo ? ' Is it a holier spot than
any other burial-place ? '

"Not at all," replied our obliging mentor; "the term has
been generally applied by Italians to their cemeteries since the
close of the twelfth century, when Ubaldo, Archbishop of Pisa,
having failed in one of the crusades against Jerusalem, was
driven out of Palestine. To atone in a measure for his defeat
by Saladin, not being able to obtain possession of the Holy
Land in any other way, he brought home his fifty-three vessels
laden with earth from the holy places, and deposited it upon a
spot which was thus consecrated as a burial place for the
Pisans. The title ' Campo Santo ' being then first given, has
thus been generally adopted, as I said, throughout Italy."

" Not a bad idea ; but how does the one at Pisa compare
with this? ' I asked.

" Beautiful as it is, the ancient one ranks first among the
world's cemeteries ; age and historic association may have had
something to do with this. But here we are at one of the
entrance gates, which for us will be an exit."

"Yes," I remarked; "but this street is not the same as that
which brought us here."

"All the better then," chimed in a bright lad of our party;
" we'll have a chance to strike something not on the pro-
gramme. Say, what's this big building?' turning to our guide.

" Just the very place you'd like to visit : a museum of rare
and wonderful things ; many of them treasures and relics
hidden away for centuries until the Columbian year of jubilee,
when the Genoese brought them forth in honor of the great
event."

And so indeed we found it a veritable treasure-house. All
that belonged to the great navigator and his times were there
before us. With some we had been made familiar at the
Chicago Fair, but many more were quite new, and all full of
interest.

Among these treasures were piles of massive and costly

GENOA AND ITS CAMPO SANTO.

[Nov.,

plate, dating back to the palmy days of the Dorian Republic,
when deft fingers of skilful artists chiselled those matchless
designs marvels of genius and art that later artists may in vain
seek to rival. In the broad, massive contour of vase, cup, and
urn one could read that grandeur and strength of mind which
conquered the world to Rome, making her its proud mistress.

But in the delicate,
f fairy-like tracery of

flower, fruit, or mytho-
logical figure the rare
grace and symmetry
of Grecian art had
plainly wrought its
magical effect. The
silversmiths of to-day
may well find object-
lessons in the museum
at Genoa and other
artists as well.

As foremost among
the Crusaders, honor-
ed by the capture of
Jerusalem, and for a
time in possession of
Constantinople, the
Genoese improved to
the utmost their op-
portunities for obtain-
ing relics of the early
Christians, and other
priceless historic me-
mentoes ; many of
these we found care-
fully preserved from
the wreck of ages.
In them, as an open
book, could be read

the inevitable chances

and changes wrought by time, as nations rose and fell, having
lived their brief life, then were swept away

" By those who in their turn would follow them."

Striking comment upon a lesson continually taught, only to be
as continually forgotten !

THE COLUMBUS HOUSE NOW BELONGS TO THE STATE.

1896.] GENOA AND ITS CAMPO SANTO. 191

Many who doubt the authenticity of these relics will in
the same breath declare as genuine, and almost glorify, the still
older " finds ' of Greece, Rome, and Egypt. Yet can they
bring stronger proof for this credulity ?

Much as we desired to linger among these wonders, so unique
and beautiful, yet, registered as we were for the morning
steamer, a hurried glance could only be given at the best, and
then we turned regretfully away, bearing many a picture for
memory's gallery to which we could gladly turn in coming
years.

Wending our zigzag path to the hotel, we passed the house
where Daniel O'Connell died, as we learned from an inscrip-
tion on the wall. Being the headquarters of the American con-
sulate, we made a brief call upon our country's representative,
and were most courteously received. On a distant hill could
be seen the tomb of Smithson, founder of the Institute at
Washington bearing his name. Beyond this a cottage was
pointed out as the residence of Dickens while in Italy. Nearer
was Byron's mountain home. Among the more ancient build-
ings was a gloomy-looking structure, St. George's Bank, dating
five hundred years before the Bank of England.

A curious custom has prevailed for centuries connected
with this old Bank of Genoa. Citizens of wealth or distinction
donated money from time to time, which placed in the bank
at compound interest for stated times, should then be used for
the public benefit ; in return the beneficiaries erected statues
to the donors. Patriotism, generosity, or some other motive
must then have been at a premium, since within three hun-
dred years just thirty-five such statues were placed in the
Grand Council Chamber.

This custom will explain a letter written by Columbus
from Seville just before sailing on his last voyage, and ad-
dressed to this same Bank of St. George. In it, after acknowl-
edging the favors and blessings of God which had crowned his
ventures, and conscious of the uncertainty of life, the pious
navigator charges his son, Diego, to donate one-tenth of his
income each year to the city, that the tax might be lessened
on corn and wine ; so that, whether the sum was great or
small, his beloved people of Genoa might be assured of his
good will, and wherever his body should chance to be, his heart
would still remain with them.

By a strange paradox, and striking comment as well upon
the idiosyncrasies of human nature, we found the birthplace of

192 GENOA AND ITS CAMPO SANTO. [Nov.,

Mazzini honored by a flagstaff, a tablet suitably inscribed, some
wreaths, and a public library ; while near the bronze equestrian
statue of the late king, Victor Emmanuel, stands the sculptured
figure of the republican conspirator, whose ambitious schemes
were always doomed to immediate failure of that Mazzini the
sworn enemy of the very dynasty which has since become the
central pivot of Italian unity (?). Thus,

" Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis"

The future of this beautiful Mediterranean peninsula is in-
deed a serious problem, difficult of solution. Complications aris-
ing from conflicts between church and state, prince and peasant,
ruler and ruled, cause the looming of many a war-cloud. Venice
and Turin, Florence and Pisa, once the leaders in commerce,
arts, or arms, are but mere tombs of their former greatness,
each little more than a historical remembrance ; the promise of
their future but a shadow of the glorious past.

Not so with Genoa, Italia's city above and apart from all
the rest. She holds within herself strong, sturdy, and perma-
nent elements of greatness, proof against the disasters brought
about by war, change of dynasty, or any other effect of human
fickleness. Her magnificent harbor, Italy's marble gate to the
world's imperial sea, smoking with steamers from the far Orient
by way of the great canal, and from the Occident as well ;
where merchants meet daily as neighbors from earth's utmost
bounds, making Genoa their great commercial rendezvous all
this and much more prove that now and in the proximate
future it will stand foremost among the representative cities
of the world.

ANTON RUBINSTEIN.

BY REV. H. G. GANSS.

T was in the year 1840 that a boy prodigy, a
pianist, eleven years of age, made his appearance
before the critical and pedantic musicians of
Leipzig. His strange personality, and more yet
his astonishing performance, caused more than a
ripple of excitement in the tranquil placidity of that staid old
academic town. The impression was then prevalent that such
meteoric apparitions had seen their day in Mozart, Beethoven,
and Liszt. The juvenile phenomena were so numerous at that
period, the most confident hopes centred in them so illusory,
the most sanguine anticipations so deceptive, that our German
spectacled pedagogues, by a peculiar mode of ratiocination
characteristic of the country, had come to the settled conclu-
sion that these pale little " wonder children ' bloomed only in
a hot-house temperature, and as soon as the breath of heaven
fanned the cheek of the fragile little beings they would, like
some sensitive plant, wilt and sink into a nameless oblivion or
into an untimely grave.
VOL. LXIV. 13

194 ANTON RUBINSTEIN. [Nov.,

Not so this last marvel, who not only was to leave his im-
press on the history of music, but was to shine as the only
rival of the greatest of all executive virtuosi, whose huge, over-
shadowing figure at that time alone came between him and
his public. The whole manifestation was an exasperating para-
dox and inexplicable phenomenon to these wiseacres as they
met in their Kneip. Prodigious pinches of snuff, copious
draughts of beer, and stertorous whiffs of the pipe left them
still in the same irritating quandary.

The prim, demure little figure retained all the ease, archness,
and joyousness of a child, yet welded to this seemingly child-
like impotence was a gigantic executive facility, that not only
successfully coped with, but with triumphant recklessness con-
quered the most difficult compositions of Liszt, Thalberg, Cho-
pin, and Henselt. In this marvellous execution, pellucid clear-
ness, flawless technique, and scintillating brilliancy were not
only prominently brought to view, but with these essential at-
tributes of the true pianist there was found to coalesce a most
precocious keenness of perception, depth of feeling, and fierce,
glowing poetry. It was not so much the astounding technical
perfection that puzzled our Gewandhaus critics for this they
readily concluded was the product of education but it was the
soul-stirring passion, the poetic intuition, the strongly marked
individuality that changed their phlegmatic reticence, first to
disputatious garrulity, then to helpless obfuscated amazement.
Moreover, this child was not only a most consummate interpre-
tative artist, but a most impassioned creative one. The childish
mind seemed teeming and seething with an unfailing wealth of
quaint, thrilling, mature ideas, which adjusted and assimilated
themselves most felicitously, welling from the apparently im-
mature brain with a homogeneous spontaneity almost inspira-
tional.

A CRITICAL PERIOD.

Would the child develop in years and experience ? For
there seems to be a period in the life of musical genius during
which the improvement in the skill of the performer does not
keep pace with the change in his person ; a period when one
is, as Malvolio puts it, " not yet old enough for a man, nor
young enough for a boy ; as a squash is a peascod, or a cod-
dling before it is an apple." In this period we expect too sud-
den a transition and improvement of that which was wonderful
in the child into that which is astonishing in the man. Ripen-
ing years seemed only to amplify the scope of his intellectual

1896.] ANTON RUBINSTEIN. 195

capacity and poetical susceptibility, and at the same time bring
his pianistic achievements nearer the apogee of transcendent
art. Weimar, Breslau, Prague, Berlin were unanimous in speak-
ing of this young Muscovite as almost superhuman in his mas-
tery of the piano, as well as in the musical ideas to which he
gave form and life at the instrument.

PERSONAL RESEMBLANCE TO BEETHOVEN.

In his youth another coincidence had a most marked effect
on some of these enthusiasts, and gave their vaticinations al-
most the strength of an accomplished fact. It was the strik-
ing resemblance he bore, both in appearance and manners, to
the immortal Beethoven, who died two years before the birth
of our hero, and whose saturnine figure was still a living and
hallowed memory. The obtrusive similarity was more than
striking it was even startling, especially in connection with the
piano. There was that huge, leonine head ; the broad but com-
paratively low forehead; the dark, dreamy, flashing eyes; the
beetling eyebrows ; the ill-formed, flattish nose ; the firm,
clenched, smileless mouth ; the stiff mass of shaggy hair, all on
end ; the dark, sallow complexion. His manners likewise recalled
Beethoven, especially that unconscious brusqueness, a mixture
of bashfulness and pride, a blunt modesty coupled with a surly
dignity. The whole personality, without being handsome, gave
the idea of superior power. Like his prototype, he was an illus-
trious example of pure, unworldly genius, of true artistic intel-
ligence, of ideally perfect manhood.

" His life was gentle ; and the elements
So mixed in him, that nature might stand up
And say to all the world : This was a man ! '

Such was Anton Rubinstein !

Was the " wonder child " to develop into a mediocre pianist
and then be swept away in that maelstrom of disappointed
hopes that engulfed so many hopeful prodigies before, or would
he by successive steps ascend the gradus ad Parnassum to dwell
with the Immortals? Was the mantle of Beethoven to descend
upon this youth, the spirit of the great master find its reincar-
nation in him, consecrating him the prophet of a new musical
evangel, or was he, like Icarus, to perish in attempting great

things ?

RUBINSTEIN'S PARENTAGE.

Anton Gregor Rubinstein was born at Wechwotinez (Wech-
wotynetz), near Jassy, in Moldavia, of Jewish parents, on No-

196 ANTON RUBINSTEIN. [Nov.,

vember 30, 1829. If the laws of heredity can be taken as a
prognostic and presage of character, talent, or temperament, a
most auspicious coalition favored Rubinstein. His father, a
Polish Jew of more than ordinary education and strength of
character, was married to Kaleria Levenstein, a German Jewess
of Prussian Silesia, and a woman of much native talent, keen
feminine foresight, and vigorous artistic impulses. This happy
conjunction of the Germanic and Slavic traits no doubt formed
the basis of that severe and, at the same time, oriental color-
ing that surprises us so frequently in his compositions. Taking
into consideration the socially stunted and intellectually arid
atmosphere in which the poor Hebrew mother was constrained
to eke out an existence, and the meagre opportunities of self-
improvement afforded her down-trodden race, the fact that she
was the first to detect and foster the incipient genius of the
boy entitles her to a lofty niche among those historic mothers
who were the discoverers of genius, the moulders of character,
and the architects of their children's destiny and fame.

At the time of his birth a fierce anti-Semitic persecution
(of endemic nature in Russia) was raging throughout the
country. Confiscation, expatriation, or extirpation was the
battle-cry of the Emperor Nicholas, and it was carried out
with all the pitiless inhumanity and barbarous savagery for
which the Romanoffs are so ingloriously conspicuous in history.
To escape the inevitable doom that awaited the recalcitrant (?)
Jew, Rubinstein's grandfather assembled all the different
branches of his family, and to the number of sixty had them
baptized. Whether baptism effected their Christianization we
are unable to state or ascertain. It is, however, strongly to be
suspected that Rubinstein never divested himself of the strong
Hebraic environments of his childhood, and it is more than a
mere conjecture that he never openly subscribed to any creed
or affiliated with any church.

Existence in the intellect-stagnating, heart-benumbing, and
soul-chilling atmosphere of a slimy, reeking little Russian
village, with a sordid, benighted, and slavish peasantry as the
only companions, was unendurable to a woman of Mme. Rubin-
stein's energetic mental calibre. The family removed to
Moscow, and a most providential move it was to our hero. It
proved the pivotal point of his career, the birth of his fame.
His mother had already detected his budding talent for music,
and being herself an accomplished musician, she soon initiated
him in the elements of music and the piano. His maternal

1896.] ANTON RUBINSTEIN. 197

tutelage, however, was of brief duration, for the curly-headed
little urchin of six years soon overmatched his preceptress and
left her momentarily resourceless and discouraged, in a state of
hopeless discomfiture. Fortunately there was a philanthropic
musician in Moscow, who had in the meanwhile become
interested in this promising child. This interest will perpetuate
his name to posterity. You may search musical encyclopaedias
and dictionaries for the name of Alexander Villoing, but in
vain ; his name receives not even the briefest mention. Yet he
was the only teacher Rubinstein ever had. An impecunious
Maecenas, no doubt, but who more opportunely helpful ?

THE FERULE IN MUSICAL EDUCATION.

Villoing, though not a virtuoso himself, nor even a pianist
of more than modest pretension, was one of those old-fashioned,
exacting, conscientious but inflexible martinets who, under an
austere and imperturbable exterior, conceal the warm instincts,
the lofty ideals, and, what is more, the thorough scholarship of
the true musician. He was not a dabbler in theories or
methods ; inclined neither to the empiric nor yielding to the
eclectic. His own method, he concluded, was the best ; it may
have been peculiar to himself and the times, but its result at
all events was most happy. If pupils did not readily submit to
his iron-clad rules and caustic rhetoric, they were enforced by
a due admixture of bodily chastisement, with all the nonchalance
of one imbued with the idea that he held the key of the
temple of knowledge and knew how and when to use it.

" I thank the man even in his grave," said Haydn of his
Hamburg teacher, "that he made me apply so hard to study,
even if I did receive more flogging than eating." " In those
days," writes Rubinstein, " the method of teaching was very
stern ; ferules, punches, and even slaps on the face, were of
frequent occurrence." All the same, this musical apprentice-
ship was of inestimable value to him, and, like Haydn, he let
no occasion pass by without expressing his enduring indebted-
ness to his " only teacher, Villoing."

The intercourse between teacher and pupil soon assumed
the relationship of the most friendly intimacy, with the ardent
reciprocal desire of the latter always trying to please his master
and the former determined upon securing a due recognition of
the talents of his pupil.

*"If that man had received more flogging from his teacher," muttered Beethoven in
thumbing over the score of Rossini's " Bafbier,'' " he might have made a great composer."

198 ANTON RUBINSTEIN. [Nov.,

FIRST PUBLIC APPEARANCE.

His progress was so phenomenally rapid that his teacher
decided upon a public test, which was made at a charity con-
cert at Moscow, July 31, 1839, when the child was ten years
old. The success was unprecedented, and the pressure from
all sides so strong that Villoing, who had in the meantime,
with characteristic unselfishness, abandoned cherished prospects
in life to identify himself with the future of his pupil, deter-
mined to take his prottgt to the then musical Mecca of the
world, Paris, where there was "but one music, and Cherubini
its accredited prophet." Whether or not Cherubini was the un-
yielding autocrat of the French Conservatoire, as the vitriolic
fulminations of Berlioz, whom he refused admission, would lead
us to infer, the exclusion of Liszt and subsequent rejection of
Rubinstein, whether prompted by a chauvinistic animus or by
petty jealousy, we will not endeavor to unriddle the enigma.
It at all events robbed the Conservatoire of two of the great-
est coryphaei of modern art, who no doubt would have formed
its crown and glory.

Not disheartened by this rebuff, at the suggestion of Meyer-
beer, in 1846, Rubinstein and his brother Nicholas, likewise a
youthful prodigy, though eclipsed by the more gifted Anton,
went to Berlin to study composition under Professor Dehn.
His career after this was that of a travelling and triumphant vir-
tuoso, a prolific and honored composer; in the former capacity
especially arousing a frenzied enthusiasm equalled by no pianist
of his time, and surpassed by Liszt alone. His compositions
likewise met with a flattering reception and soon made their
way around the globe, and the name of Rubinstein was rapidly
becoming a shibboleth in the musical world.

ART VERSUS LUCRE.

In 1862 Rubinstein organized the National Conservatory of
Music at St. Petersburg, and was its head until 1867.

In 1872 he came to the United States on a concert tour.
The ovations he received wherever he played are still fresh in
the memory of music-lovers. Whilst the tour was calculated to
turn the head of a less strong character than Rubinstein, and
whilst he was not insensible to the hearty receptions accorded
him everywhere, and whilst it had the air of piquant novelty
about it, it was utterly distasteful to him. His rugged simplic-
ity and sturdy pride revolted at the mercantile valuation
placed on his services, and the chattel-like method in which he

1896.] ANTON RUBINSTEIN. 199

was hustled from place to place. "For a time," he writes, "I
was entirely under the control of the manager. May heaven
preserve us from such slavery ! Under these conditions there is
no chance for art one grows into an automaton, performing
mechanical work ; no dignity remains to the artist he is lost.
. . . It often happened that we gave two or three concerts
in as many different cities on the same day. The receipts were
invariably gratifying, but it was all so tedious that I began to
despise my art." On this tour he received $40,000 for 215
concerts. In 1891 and again in 1893 he was offered $125,000
for fifty concerts. He refused the offer.

During his last ten years he was threatened with blindness,
the result of over-application to study and musical composi-
tion. The catastrophe, appalling as it would seem, absolutely
closing his career as a composer, would probably have only
partially affected his influence and powers as a virtuoso, be-
cause his memory was simply stupendous. In the historical
recitals he gave his classes at the conservatory he literally
covered the entire range of piano literature from inchoate
pianism, as represented by Frescobaldi, Scarlatti, Galuppi,
Couperin, Hasse, Bach, etc., to the transitional period of de-
menti, Dussek, Hummel, etc., and from it to the achievements
of modern virtuosity and romanticism, as exemplified in the
works of Chopin, Schumann, and Liszt, and that without using
a note a colossal feat that perhaps only Hans von Billow
among all his contemporaries could attempt with any assur-
ance of success. In late years he occasionally suffered from a
lapsus memories, due, however, more to nervous excitability
than any impairment of his prodigious memory.

Only one more biographic event we will allude to in this
discursive little history, and -that is his golden jubilee as an
artist, celebrated November 30, 1889, which partook more of
the nature of an international ftte, the entire world laying its
tributes at the feet of the master, than a celebration confined
to Russia exclusively. In the latter country the festival lasted
six days. Royalty and aristocracy vied with artistic circles
and popular enthusiasm in doing honor to the master.

His unexpected death, after a brief illness of five days, oc-
curred at two o'clock in the morning, November 20, 1894, at
his villa Peterhof, near St. Petersburg.

HIS POWERS AND GENIUS.

In forming a critical estimate of Rubinstein we have to

200 ANTON RUBINSTEIN. [Nov. r

deal with a dual character, the virtuoso and composer. We
confine ourselves to the former.

As a pianist, a technician of transcendent power and a
poet of perfervid utterance, he will always occupy, next to
Liszt, the loftiest position in contemporary musical history.
Perhaps greater difficulties have been conquered, greater
power, severity, and sonority of tone produced, but few, if any-
always excepting Liszt, of whom in a measure he was a dis-
ciple have approached him, and certainly none gone beyond
him, in purity of tone, raciness of touch, massiveness of color-
ing, poesy of expression, and truly cyclonic grandeur of execu-
tion. His execution was less the result of a desire to display
prodigious skill than the attempt to express a musical thought.
This thought, always complete, manifested itself under his
hands with all the advantage of grace, delicacy, depth, and
expression.

Zelter, speaking of the old school of pianists, somewhere

says that to him Hummel was the summary of piano-playing,
" for he unites with much meaning and skill what is genuine
and what is real. You are not aware either of fingers or keys ;
you have music." Perhaps Rubinstein, measured by this stan-
dard, was guilty of venial, even mortal transgressions. He
sometimes treated his instrument rather as an enemy than as a
friend ; bullied it rather than caressed it ; overheaped it rather
with indignities than endearments. His mighty and Titanic
figure at the piano left the impression that in those flashing
eyes, those clenched teeth, those fingers of steel, those sledge-
hammer wrists there was a determination to punish the piano,
and endeavor to extort the power of an orchestra from that
which after all is but an unpretending row of keys, hammers,
and strings. But even here his keen knowledge of musical
chiar-oscuro saved him from antithetical exaggeration, turgid
pomposity, climacteric pitfalls, and noisy cacophony.

HIS METHOD OF EXECUTION.

Schumann says of Berlioz that he was a virtuoso on the
orchestra. Rubinstein was a virtuoso on the piano, but in the
hands of this briarean genius the piano was metamorphosed
into an orchestra.

Of course there were aberrational moments when he was
literally carried away by the furor musicus, when he was a lion
in the most leonine sense of the word, when he treated the
composition under hand just as the monarch of the desert,

1896.] ANTON RUBINSTEIN. 201

hungry and truculent, treats the unlucky beast that falls to his
prey : seizes it, shakes it, worries it, tears it, devours it limb
by limb. Such is said to have been his tragic performance of
Chopin's Funeral March, which he interpreted as " night winds
sweeping over the church-yard graves." It met with unmea-
sured condemnation, yet it has never been equalled, nor for
that even approached. It stands unparalleled.

Then again he could coax the most soul-searching pathos
from a Mozart sonata, reveal the magically gleaming images of
Schubert with a charm ineffable ; impart a meaning and poetry
to Chopin of almost apocalyptic weirdness ; could soar to the
Parnassian heights of modern virtuosity with the swing of the
stormy petrel or the swoop of the eagle. At such moments
the piano became a throbbing, thrilling, pulsating, sentient be-
ing. Liszt says there is a music " which of itself comes to
us," and other music " that requires us to go to it." Rubin-
stein by sheer force of his individuality and magic mastery of
his instrument became another Orpheus or Amphion. He
knocked the feet away from your critical equipoise, toyed and
tossed you about at pleasure. Your mental vision became
blurred, your discriminative faculties dazed, the heart ceased
to throb ; but in this cataleptic state the soul, in half-delirious
intoxication, drank in the most exquisitely ravishing harmonies.

In his own compositions for the piano bold and original,
solemn and imposing, seldom commonplace and never trivial ;
truly imaginative creations full of fire and grandeur ; clothed
at times with an orchestral breadth and pomp of harmony-
Rubinstein was always found at his best as an executant, and
invariably roused interest, amazement, and the wildest enthu-
siasm. His volatile temperament, however, would hardly per-
mit him to play the same composition twice in the same spirit
and with the same interpretation.

Summing up, it may be that in surpassing virtuosity he
may have been outdone by Liszt ; in languorous delicacy by
Chopin ; in fastidious daintiness by Thalberg ; in classical aus-
terity by Billow ; in interpretative versatility by Paderewski-
but on the whole we find in Anton Rubinstein such a fortui-
tous or acquired amalgamation of all the essential attributes
that constitute the modern pianist, that posterity will unhesitat-
ingly acclaim him one of the greatest masters of the piano-
one who must yield to the overtowering colossus, Franz Liszt,
alone, in the light of whose achievements he was, and no doubt
will be, measured by the critic and historian of the future.

2O2 ACROSS COUNTRY. [Nov.,

ACROSS COUNTRY.

BY DOROTHY GRESHAM.

HE winter has set in, and Kevin, Nell, and I
are sitting round the fire discussing the pros-
pects of to-morrow's opening " meet ' of the
hounds. Kevin is telling me that " before the
Land League days fox-hunting was the 'national
amusement of the Irish people. Aristocracy, snobocracy, and
democracy were one in heart and feeling when with the hounds
flying across country after Reynard. In these latter days the
hunt, through many parts of the country, is a poor affair com-
pared with old times. The bone and sinew of our people-
the farmers are conspicuously absent as a protest against rack-
rent. The old squire stays at home and sulks ; to be insulted
as a trespasser where, as master of the hounds, he had been
greeted as a hero and a fine old Irish gentleman, is more than
he can stand, and so he sits at home in his old oak study and
nurses his wrongs. The agitation for land reform began, the
pent-up injuries of years broke forth ; the tenants demanded
reduction, the landlords' reply added insult to injury. The
farmers showed their resentment by enforced prohibition of
hounds and huntsmen from their high-priced acres. War was
declared, and well it is all a thing of the past, or very nearly
so, now, everywhere. Here we are very amicable, I am glad
to say. Father Tom is a man of peace, and as envoy of the
tenants he calmed all injured feelings, and made landlord and
tenant brothers in distress, for there is little doubt that there
are grievances on both sides."

First impressions, every one tells us, are lasting, and my
first Irish hunt is the best remembered and certainly most de-
lightful in my life. Dungar is in the midst of the wildest scen-
ery, with glimpses from my bed-room window of lough, ruined
abbey, and extensive woodlands. Kevin is the idolized though
rather youthful master of the hounds, and he is anxious that
my expectations of a Tipperary hunt shall be realized. The sun
is peeping above the hills, and I am out of bed and in my habit
in the cold gray of the early November morning. The bay
of the hounds, the huntsman's horn, the horses on the gravel
beneath my windows would awaken the Seven Sleepers. The

1896.] ACROSS COUNTRY. 203

meet is four miles away, and I hurry down to be in time for the
start from the kennels. In the grand old hall red coats vie with
one another in splendor. The mingling of pink with the dark
habits, with a background of ancient oak walls hung with mediae-
val armor, has a striking effect as I turn an angle of the wide,
winding staircase on my way to join the throng.

Nell is looking for me to introduce to all comers, and
Kevin gives me one of his witty challenges as to what Ameri-
ca can show to-day on horseback. We sally forth and mount
before the door. It is my first view of what I privately term
"wild Irish girls," and theirs, as I afterwards learn, of a Yan-
kee. We start down the avenue, with its venerable lirnes, now
bare but giving rare bits of water and mountain pictures through
their naked branches ; past the ivy-thatched lodge, through the
massive iron gates, and on to the road.

I admire the grace and beauty of those wild Irish girls
riding on before me; -they are so different from my ideas of
them ; they actually speak quite good English ! I bring my
chestnut on a line with theirs, and seeing they are anxious to
be civil, I give them every chance. I start them on hunting,
and after a little shyness at first their native eloquence shines
forth, and I am charmed. They are cousins evidently, though
it is difficult sometimes in Ireland to define relationships. Be-
tween intermarriages and old friendships of generations the
Irish are all kinsfolk, it seems to me. Before I know it I am
captivated ; their bright, frank, girlish freshness is irresistible,
and we are at Curragraigue Cross Roads long before I wish,
were I consulted on the matter. I am not, however ; and
worse still, we are no sooner at the " meet ' than we part
rather unceremoniously.

It is the hour to begin operations, and I have only time to
catch a flying glance at more fascinating Irish girls, with the
most wonderful complexions I have ever seen. A delightful com-
bination of pink and snowy white, roses and peaches ; gray-green
and blue eyes sparkling, laughing, dancing ; stately matrons
in barouches and pony-carriages, fresh and fair as their daugh-
ters. Cavaliers, booted and spurred, jovial and jolly. Farmers
on their stout cobs coming down the hills, boys uncountable on
foot, all chattering on that one absorbing topic a find !

We are off in a canter down a splendid road, by cottage
and country house, through the village street with its rural
chapel standing in the trees, the cross gleaming above. A little
farther down, seated in his porch, the old priest is reading,

204 ACROSS COUNTRY. [Nov.,

and he raises his eyes as he hears our clatter. A bright smile
lights up his worn, kindly face ; hats are raised and merry
glances flash down on him. The old squire pulls up for a tele-
graphic greeting, and we hear him cry out behind us : " Bring
round Billy, and come on with us, Father Tom, and you and
I will lead the field to-day." I. lose the old father's reply, but
it must be witty, for the squire laughs so joyously that we all
feel merry as he gallops up, still chuckling, and I hear him
say: "I knew I would have one good laugh to-day when I
saw Father Tom. What a splendid man he is, if only he would
not bury himself in his books and his people." As we turn a
bend in the road I see the old priest with bowed head, and
we leave him with his plain cottage and his hidden, beautiful life.

The crowd keeps gathering, the farm lads break from the
school-room and dodge between the horses, fearing their irate
parents, riding on in front. The men leave the plough in the
furrow, and mount bareback, if a saddle is not at hand. It is
no use for masters, fathers, and wives to object ; all authority
is outraged at the first cry of the hounds.

And now a great shout goes out : *' A fox ! A fox ! ' "Tally
ho ! ' sounds the horn, and we start across country. Over
hedges and gates, by headland and furrow, we tear onwards.
I see the boys on foot take a short cut across the fields, well
knowing the trail. What splendid fellows they are ; what hard
riding, what dash ! Farmer and squire, landlord and tenant,
are fine specimens of Irish manhood.

I give an admiring glance at those "matchless men of
Tipperary ' fast disappearing over a stone wall before us, and
whip up my chestnut to the front if I can. One must do
daring deeds with such a field. I see my girlish companions
of the morning far ahead, and I do my best to come up with
them. Kevin and Nell will be so scornful of me to-night, I
know, lagging so far behind I, too, that was supposed to be
one of the riders in Central Park ; now I learn how much I
have still to know. My nationalism comes to the surface, and
I fly along ; the chestnut does her duty, and I come out with
the leaders.

Kevin is riding for life ; the " cousins ' are fresh as the
morning, and smile on me as I gallop on now with them neck to
neck. We are going so fast now I lose sight of everything
but Reynard. For miles and miles we go over fence after
fence without a stop ; the fox has the best of us I fear, and if
he is not caught soon he will take to the lake and save him-

1896.] ACROSS COUNTRY. 205

self for another day. On and on we go ; fence after fence is left
behind, and but a third of the field are with us. The sun will
soon leave us ; I feel collapsed, but dare not give up with
those plucky girls beside me. We jump a gate, skirt a wood,
through a farm-yard, out on a road, down a hill and stop. A
white shimmering sheet of water, shot by crimson, bars our
way, shut in beyond by the mountains, steep and rugged.
The sun rests for a moment on their peaks, gives us a wintry
smile, and disappears. This is what Reynard started for at
morn ; here we lose him at eve !

A short, low groan from Kevin ; a blank, disgusted look
from the girls ; an ardent, loving, wondering gaze at the lovely
scene from me, and the hunt is over!

They are too polite to indulge before me in all the fierce
things they would like to say on that wily fox. Their good
humor returns immediately, and they try to forget their indig-
nation and disappointment in teasing me.

"Well, Uncle Sam ought to be proud of you !" cries Kevin;
" for an American you are an honor to your country, Miss
Democracy. We did not know you could show anything like
that over there." The girls quiz me about the prairies and
riding on the plains, and I try to be very witty ; but of course
do not shine and scintillate half as brilliantly as I would some
hours later, when I lie in bed thinking of all the smart things
I might have said and did not. We all become very friendly,
nevertheless, and turn our horses' heads homewards. Six men
and four girls are all that remain of the field. With merry
banter we slowly walk our horses to a country house near,
and in the old drawing-room around the fire drink tea.
Though we are not expected, the urn is hissing and the logs
crackling invitingly, and evidently an Irish hostess is always
prepared to welcome all weary travellers who love to call. We
are out again and away, with scarce time to be home for
dinner, and by starlight we reach Dungar. The open door is
welcome ; Nell's sweet face more charming still, as she greets
us lovingly in the bright, pleasant hall. She has been home
hours since, having driven some friends of hers to the meet,
and when the fox had the bad taste to go where they could
not follow, she gave the bays their head and careered to some
abbey miles from home. She is telling us all about her drive,
as we mount to our rooms ; and I do not leave her long in
doubt of my delightful hunt with those "matchless men of Tip-
perary."

206 THE FUTURE OF CATHOLICITY IN AMERICA, [Nov.,

THE FUTURE OF CATHOLICITY IN AMERICA,

WITH REFERENCE TO MISSION WORK

TO NON-CATHOLICS.

REV. A. P. DOYLE,
Congregation of St. Paul the Apostle,

'T does not take very much high thinking to con-
vince one that the Nineteenth Century, with its
marvellous changes in the political, industrial, and
social orders, has been an era of preparation for
the newer and larger revelation of God's spirit
to the world. I do not mean that there is going to be any
new truths revealed, nor that in any sense will there be a fur-
ther development of Christian doctrine. The old church, through
the strength of her vital principles, and by the very machinery
she now possesses, has over and over again subdued men's
hearts has brought whole nations from barbaric darkness to
Christian light and cultivated the highest spirituality among
them. By the same methods she has used before she will tri-
umph again. But undoubtedly there have been times when
conditions seem more favorable for her work. It is not difficult
to specify many such eras in Christian history. Religion has
had its periods of efflorescence as well as of decadence, and be-
fore every new revival of religious spirit there has been a provi-
dential ordering of natural as well as supernatural conditions
which has generated the new life. " Behold, I send my mes-
senger before thy face, who shall prepare thy way before
thee." The Nineteenth Century has been the John the Bap-
tist among the centuries, a precursor of a new spiritual awak-
ening.

In our day economic, social, and religious conditions have
undergone a wonderful change. It is so trite to say so, but
seldom do we rise to the mountain heights of observation and
look back in order to mark the contrasts with what is before
us. Steam and electricity have set the wheels of progress re-
volving at a tremendous pace, and every department of human
activity has been aroused by them. Changes have been wrought
in a week now that in the last century a year would scarcely
have been long enough to bring about. The seventeenth cen-

1896.] AND THE MISSION-WORK TO NON-CATHOLICS. 207

tury had its Thirty Years' War. The late war between France
and Germany was begun and practically consummated within
thirty days, and the changes wrought in the political complex-
ion of Europe were hardly less profound than those brought
about by its predecessor of the seventeenth century.

Activity means change. Such restless activity as is dis-
played in our modern life means most radical changes. Little
wonder, then, that every morning we awake unto new condi-
tions.

In the intellectual order particularly are these activities dis-
played. What has been, no longer attracts ; what is, no lon-
ger holds ; what will be, is looked forward to with eager eye.
This century has seen one hundred and eighty millions of
people lifted up from a vassalage in which they were as sheep
led to the shambles, without any knowledge of their rights, or
any power to assert them lifted into the full possession of
social and political freedom. The atmosphere of freedom has
developed individuality so that no longer are men to be driven
in herds, and has awakened personal endeavor so that no longer
do people lie helplessly in dumb despair awaiting the Samaritan
to lift them up. This same hopeful liberty has bred a healthy
spirit of discontent with existing conditions, and has cultivated
an energetic reaching-out for higher and better social surround-
ings. In this upward movement the luxuries of one generation
become the necessities of the next, and demands are generated
that become as imperious as ever tyrant of old uttered to his
soulless slaves.

We may easily drop into the apocalyptic mood, but, as
Lowell says, " events are apt to show themselves humorously
careless of the reputation of prophets." Still, from what has
been and now is we can easily argue to what will be. It may
be definitely stated, then, that the trend of all these great move-
ments is to a more wide-spread intellectuality, a closer brother-
hood, and consequently a deeper spirituality. There is no
stronger passion in the human heart than that of religion.
Very few hearts have ever been without some movements of
it, and by all odds the largest majority of men have been stirred
to the highest heroism through its promptings. At no time
has it ever even seemed to die out ; but, like the grass on the
prairie, though it be burnt over year after year, though it be
trampled down by the hoofs of myriads of cattle, though it be
flooded by deluge after deluge, yet the next spring it will crop
out and cover the landscape with smiling verdure. So religion,

2o8 THE FUTURE OF CATHOLICITY IN AMERICA, [Nov.,

even though it be beaten down by revolution and trampled
under foot by tyrannical law, or smothered by rampant vice,
still surely and constantly will assert itself. The genius of re-
ligion with sombre mien sits enthroned in the human heart
and none can usurp her power, and when every other agency
has struggled for the mastery and been foiled in the attempt
she will quietly but surely assert her supremacy. Religion is
queen, and to her feet will social, political, and physical factors
bring their triumphs and crave her blessing.

The upward and onward struggle of humanity for better
living, greater freedom, and higher existence will only more
and more develop the religious sentiment in the heart. After
man has wearied himself in the eager pursuit of pleasure and
ambition, like a child tired of his toys turns to the gladsome
smile of his mother's face, so the child of maturer age will find
the only satisfying rest for his soul in the sweet spirit of reli-
gion. Unless all signs fail, we may consequently expect in the
coming years a new and wonderful revival of the religious spirit.
After increasing strivings religion comes to sweeten the rest ;
after anxious yearnings religion alone brings contentment ; after
wearying watchings religion gives rest and comfort to perturbed
hearts. Though no prophet or son of a prophet, but a watcher
of the ways of men, to predict in the early future a deep reli-
gious awakening and still not seem extravagant, is but to say
that certain effects will follow from certain existing causes.

Already the gray streaks of this dawning day are visible in
the east to the watchers on the hill-tops. What else is the dy-
ing-out of the blatant infidelity of ten or fifteen years ago but
the scurrying away of the dark clouds of the night ? What else
is the decay of agnosticism, and the return of scientific men
to religious standards symbolized in the religious death-bed
of Romanes, but the dissipating of the mists of darkness.
What else is the wonderful spread of the devotion to the Sa-
cred Heart, with its hundreds of thousands of adherents, with
its eager First Friday throngs in every church in the land, but
the aurora of this dawning day. In other countries, too, similar
signs are visible. In France the national vow church is calling
out a remarkable profession of the national faith ; the apostles
of naturalness no longer command an attentive audience, but
they who have written of the Christ the Fouards, the Le Ca-
muses, the Didons, the Hamons, they are the popular favorites.
To still further demonstrate that as all roads lead to Rome so
all the changes in modern conditions lead to this religious

1896.] AND THE MISSION-WORK TO NON-CATHOLICS. 2OQ

awakening. Look outside the church and see what a stirring
there is among the young people ! Their hearts, to be sure, are
the more susceptible, and consequently the first to feel religious
influences. But see how mightily they are moved ! The organ-
ization of Christian Endeavor Societies, Epworth Leagues, and
Brotherhoods of St. Andrew, with their long rolls of member-
ship running into the millions, is a significant fact ; the de-
mand for such books as Titus : A Tale of the Christ, which has
within a very short time achieved the enormous sale of three
million copies surely there cannot be brighter signs of the
awakening of the religious sense than this interest in and love
for the minute details of our Lord's life.

Though these signs of the times are evident elsewhere, it
is in America that they are the more pronounced, because
America leads in the race of progress. Here the agencies that
make for the greatest development are permitted the freest ex-
ercise untrammelled by rooted tradition or by conservative in-
stitutions. Here, then, may we expect the earliest and the
largest growth of this religious revival. It is coming as surely
as the rising of the morrow's sun.

With it come our opportunities. To us who possess the
treasures of the ages, in view of this religious awakening, Emer-
son's oft-repeated dictum, that " America is but another name
for opportunity," takes on a new and tremendous meaning.
When the warm spring sun thaws the frosts out of the ground
and softens the ice-bound soil, then is the husbandman's oppor-
tunity, and he who desires the harvest dashes aside the lethar-
gy of sleep, is astir with the gray mists of the dawn, and is at
it all day long with his ploughing and sowing. If he lets his
opportunity slip, the same sun that softened his soil will cake
it into, hardened masses. Before the enemy is fully armed and
entrenched behind fortifications is a .general's opportunity.
Does he want to conquer, he will preempt the field and con-
trol every coign of vantage. Delay invites defeat.

America ought to be Catholic. By every right, by title of
discovery, of first occupier, of claims of truth against error, is
the Catholic seal put on this land. The Holy Mass for a hun-
dred years was the only Christian service celebrated on the
Western hemisphere. I believe, .moreover, in the providential
ordering of nations. It is here, if we are true to our trusts,
that Catholicity is destined to achieve her greatest triumphs
triumphs alongside of which the ^conversion of the Franks or
any of the northern races will fade into insignificance. God led
VOL. LXIV. 14

2io THE FUTURE OF CATHOLICITY IN AMERICA,

the chosen people out of the bondage of Egypt across the sea y
through the trials of the desert, into the Promised Land. So,
too, have come into this promised land, across the sea from the
bondage of the despotism of the old land, whole nations of the
down-trodden and the poor, who are especially God's chosen
people. So, too, will God build them up a great people.

The existing conditions also are favorable to the progress
and advancement of the church. Already has it been plainly
demonstrated that nowhere in the wide world has the church
increased her membership and enlarged the sphere of her influ-
ence as here in America. The free air of liberty has been
peculiarly favorable to her growth. The separation of church
and state has removed far from her any overshadowing, and
consequently blighting, influence coming from the civic order.
The perfect natural manhood, endowed with the most excellent
natural virtues of honesty, love of truth, sense of justice, a de-
sire to do unto others as one would be done by, is a peculiar-
ly American type. It needs but the touch of the Holy Spirit
to supernaturalize it. So, too, does the church, by her demo-
cratic spirit and her marvellous organization and her great
power with the masses of the people, her restraining authority,
her inculcation of reverence for established law, commend her-
self to all thoughtful Americans.

The decay of organized Protestantism and its utter failure
to satisfy the religious cravings of the people, as is so frequently
acknowledged these days by its own ministers, creates a void
that Catholicity alone can fill. What congeries of conditions
can possibly create more favorable circumstances under which
the conversion of America to the truth may be brought about.

Was there ever a more beautiful field, bending low with rich-
est harvest, than here in our beloved land ? Was there ever in
the whole history of the church a triumph more sublime than
the conversion of America ? Was ever there a race more worthy
of the mettle of the missionary spirit that was born on Pente-
cost, and ever since has not failed to conquer the hearts of the
nations, than the American people ? " Thrust in thy sickle and
reap, for the hour has come to reap, for the harvest of the
earth is ripe' (Apoc. xiv. 15).

Already has the work been begun in an organized form. I
take from The Missionary, the official organ of non-Catholic
mission work, an authoritative statement that will give us a de-
finite idea how the work stands :

" A short resume of the progress of the work will be inter-

.1896.] AND THE MISSION-WORK TO NON-CATHOLICS. 211

esting. A few months ago Archbishop Corrigan made a special
request of the superior of the Paulist Fathers to have some
one delegated to inaugurate the work in the Archdiocese , of
New York. Father Elliott was immediately selected for this
special duty. At the close of the summer a band of mission-
aries, with Father Elliott, will begin a series of missions in the
metropolitan diocese. Archbishop Corrigan's attitude towards
this new work from the very beginning has been one of ap-
probation and active encouragement. He warmly commended
the work to the clergy of the diocese in his address at the
Synod last fall, asking them at the -same time to interest them-
selves in it and encouraging volunteer action on these lines.

" During an interview with him, shortly after Easter, he gave
his express permission to any priest in the diocese of New
York, with the exception of the officials of the diocese whom
he could not spare, to devote himself especially to this work ;
and in order to encourage them to do so he guaranteed to any
pastor who would volunteer for this labor, to hold his parish
open for a year, appointing an administrator in the meantime ;
and to any curate who would desire to devote himself to this
special missionary work, for every year that he spent in it a
gain of two years of seniority in the diocese."

Under these very encouraging conditions the work will begin
in New York in the fall.

There are presented elsewhere in The Missionary the reports
of the work that has been done during the last three months.
The band of missionaries laboring in the Cleveland diocese
has met with very encouraging results. The Pittsburg band
is duly organized, has completed a number of successful mis-
sions, is now settled in its own home, and has the warmest
sympathy of the priests of the diocese. The missionaries look
forward to a career of great usefulness during the months to
come.

Besides the various organized bands there are a number of
individual priests laboring, either from their own initiative or
officially deputed by their bishops to labor in this special field
of work.

The most hopeful feature of these missions, besides their un-
doubted success, is the fact that the work has been taken up
by the diocesan clergy. This work belongs to the diocesan
clergy, and no greater misfortune could befall it than to have
it considered the special work of any one man or group of men*
The work in some form or other has been going on in

212 THE FUTURE OF CATHOLICITY IN AMERICA, [Nov.,

various parts of the country for years back, but it was mainly
due to the initiative of apostolic men. There have been mis-
sionaries remarkable for the number of converts they have
made. There have been parish churches which have been
veriest shrines to which the brightest and best come to make
their professions of faith. But now the work is being inau-
gurated in a systematic way in the various dioceses and is
being placed where it really belongs, with the diocesan clergy.
They are the ordinary workers in the vineyards on whom the
church depends for her best progress. When in every diocese
there is one set apart, who is taken from all other respon-
sibilities and devoted exclusively to giving missions to "the
sheep who are not of this fold," and when the other work
of every other priest has a very large element in it look-
ing to the conversion of non-Catholics, we may readily appre-
ciate that the day of the one fold and the one shepherd will
not be far away. When the devout and intelligent laity, too,
are filled with the same missionary spirit and make the number
of converts they have made the mark of the excellence of their
Catholicity, what a tremendous propelling power there will be
within the church's organization ! Given five thousand priests,
fifty per cent, of the number in this country, thoroughly imbued
with that deep sense of conviction that says " 1 am right and I
can prove it," taught from the seminary days the best ways of
addressing the non-Catholic people, eager with the desire of
making converts, and unite with them a missionary laity, and in
one generation the doors of the churches will not be wide
enough to admit the crowd that will come clamoring for
entrance.

The reflex action of such missionary work on the Catholics
themselves cannot be overestimated. It is only when one be-
gins to make converts that he thoroughly appreciates the bless-
ings of his own faith. He realizes what a priceless treasure it
is. He guards it most sacredly, and at all times he is mindful
to give good example lest, perchance, his own life be a rock
of scandal to his non-Catholic neighbor. So from every point
of view that we measure this new movement it bears with it
the richest blessings.

In its organized form the work is still young. But several
important facts have been thoroughly demonstrated. The " ques-
tion-box ' has shown how lamentably ignorant the immense
.mass of the non-Catholic' people are concerning the teachings
of the church. From the very beginning the Catholic Church

1896.] AND THE MISSION-WORK TO NON-CATHOLICS. 21$

has been an important factor in American life, but the great
majority of the American people are as ignorant of the truths
of the Catholic Church as they are of " the number of birds in
the air or the fishes in the sea." Another point that has been
demonstrated is the possibility of getting an audience. Non-
Catholics are anxious to learn. They will come to listen. They
are ready to approach the investigation of the claims of the
true religion with the utmost fair-mindedness. They do desire
to have a religion that will settle the vague uncertainties of
their minds and will satisfy the deep cravings of their hearts.
The only other thing that is wanted to- bring the American
people within the bosom of the church is the grace of God
and the zealous work of the efficient missionary. The former
we know, through the unfailing promises of Christ, we have with
us at all times. The latter, too, we are not without.

"And going up into one of the barks that was Simon's, he
desired him to put off a little from the land. And sitting down
he taught the crowds out of the bark. Now when he had
ceased to speak, he said to Simon : ' Put off into the deep and
let down your nets for a draught.' And Simon answering said
to him : ' Master, we have toiled all the night, and have taken
nothing ; but at thy word I will let down the net.' And when
they had done this they enclosed a great multitude of fishes,
and their net was breaking. And they beckoned to their part-
ners who were in the other bark, that they should come and
help them. And they came and filled both the barks, so that
they were almost sinking. When Simon Peter saw this he fell
down at the feet of Jesus, saying : * Depart from me, for I am
a sinful man, O Lord ! ' For amazement had seized him, and
all who were with him, at the draught of fishes which they had
taken. Jesus said to Simon: 'Fear not: from henceforth thou
shalt catch men.' A little teaching of the American crowds
from Peter's bark a little letting-down of the nets into the
deep at the divine bidding, and such a multitude of people will
be enclosed therein that for very amazement we shall fall down
on our knees and thank God that in some little way we have
been chosen to be the instrument of such a great manifesta-
tion of his power.

Two DAYS AT LA VEKNA. [Nov.,

TWO DAYS AT LA VERNA.

BY G. S. M. M.

)U ask me to tell you something about my two
days at La Verna ; and it delights me to do so,
because they were delightful days, " taken out of
time "and marked white in the calendar of mem-
ory. All the more lovingly remembered because
they followed and preceded long periods of illness, sorrow, and
anxiety. When one has touched the half century, one has
very few white days, " play-days," and those few are remem-
bered accordingly.

One of the great charms, perhaps the greatest' "charm, of be-
ing in Italy is, that in no other country in the world can one
live a dual life so well as here. We walk about in the Present,
but often we almost actually live in the Past. Buildings cen-
turies old look as young as though they were creations of yes-
terday. The names of streets and houses have been unchanged
since given, perhaps five hundred years ago ; and, generally,
these names are those of men famous then and who will be
famous for all time. Figures elsewhere seen only in pictures
walk familiarly beside us. The brown-frocked and sandalled
Franciscan friar; the more stately black-and-white robed Do-
minican ; the shrouded Brothers of the Misericordia ; the Papal
soldiers in their quaint motley designed by Michael Angelo ;
the contadino with his sheepskin-lined cloak, that he throws
over his shoulder as gracefully as the Roman of old did his
toga ; we know them all so well that we have long ago ceased
to wonder, almost to look at them.

Influence, that marvellous power of one human soul over
another soul, or, in ever-widening circles, over hundreds and
thousands of souls, can be realized in Italy more fully than
elsewhere. Here men's works have "followed them"; nay, the
men themselves live now in their works. Michael Angelo dis-
courses vehemently with us on the great principles of art ; and
Dante pleads with passionate pain to our sense of justice, to
our love of honor, to our patriotism. But of all the dominant
spirits of the middle ages none lives more really, none still
influences Italy more lovingly, than the gentle Francis of Assisi.

1896.]

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

215

The name scarcely needs the prefix of saint, it being in itself
a synonyme for holiness. The fervent Catholic, the vehement
Protestant dissenter, the devout and cultured Anglican alike

H
a

H
o

believes in this man, alike honors and, in his measure, loves
him. In Italy the name " Frate ' is applied exclusively to the
Franciscans, whose "order' alone is still popular, when others

216 Two DAYS AT LA VERNA. [Nov.,

are coldly looked upon. At any rate it and its humble pos-
sessions are more frequently protected from the ruthless hand
of the modern radical and demagogue. Francis was born at
Assisi and died there, and yet to me he had always seemed
more closely identified with La Verna, where the crowning
mystery of his spiritual life was vouchsafed to him. Neverthe-
less, it was Assisi that I visited first ; and in the great, triple
church on the hill I tried to feel the presence of the saint and
I could not. That huge pile of masonry seemed to me " out
of touch ' with the gentle brother of the birds, with him who
" prayed well because he loved well all things both great and
small." I stared duly at Giotto's frescoes and I did not like
them much (may the heresy be forgiven to me !), but I was not
unhappy ; I had had all my pleasure before in the smaller
church under the hill, the Church of St. Mary of the Angels.
There I had found my saint, or he had found me, which- was
probably more to the purpose.

I have heard Mass in many a sacred fane : in St. Peter's,
with the Pope himself celebrating ; in St. Mark's, Venice, the
one ideal church of Europe, hollowed like a sea-girt cave, curved
like a shell ; I have followed " the Ambrosian Rite sublime '
in the " dim religious light ' of Milan's glorious Duomo ; ay,
and have worshipped in a Roman catacomb, with the dead
bodies of saints and martyrs close beside, and their spirits
closer still, abiding with us and joining in the hymn " Trisagion"
And yet in none of these, not even there, did there seem to
me such fulness of worship as that which went up from the
humble peasants kneeling in the tiny grotto within the church
-the cell of the early eremites, rebuilt by St. Francis's own
hand.

Having been at Assisi, I longed the more to visit La Verna ;
and whilst we were staying at Vallombrosa last September we
had fully arranged to go there and to Camaldoli, but a burst
of stormy weather that lasted three days upset the plan, and
as I had settled to go to Rome on a certain day under the
escort of a friend, a Roman ecclesiastic who also had been
visiting Vallombrosa, there seemed to be nothing for it but to
give up the idea of taking the little pilgrimage for that time
at least. On Friday morning my companion and I began our
journey to Rome at a very early hour. Each mile brought us
into new beauties of scenery: at first the solemn pines, and
then the chestnut-trees, slipped past us, until we were in the
midst of vineyards laden with fruit. Each moment brought

1896.]

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

217

also brighter loveliness of weather, as the sun rose higher in
his illimitable field of dazzling blue. First we exchanged wishes
that we had had such weather two days previously, so that we
might have gone
to La Verna.
Then I began to
say tentatively :
" Why should we
not go noW ? The
journey from Bib-
biena is much
easier than from
Vallombrosa ; we
could telegraph to
my friends in
Rome not to ex-
pect me till to-
morrow." And so
we tossed back-
wards and for-
wards the ball of " Yes " and "No," and " Can " and "Can't,"
until, taking our courage in both hands, we actually did the
deed, and on reaching Pontassieve station telegraphed to
Rome, sent on thither my trunk, and took tickets for Bibbiena.

We felt like
children on a
holiday. The en-
tire unexpected-
ness of the pleas-
ure was half its
charm ; and when
one is elderly a
revival of any of
the innocent sen-
sations of youth
is specially de-
lightful. What a
scene of noise and
confusion met us
on getting out-
side the apparent-
ly quiet, sleepy little station of Bibbiena ! There we found
quite a small crowd of men, each with a quaint-fashioned

FRESCOES ILLUSTRATING THE LIFE OF ST. FRANCIS.

218

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

[Nov.,

phaeton seated for two, and drawn by a pair of brisk little
horses many-belled, of course, being Italian. The drivers fell
upon us, the only passengers, and shouted, vociferated, implored,

C/2

55
H

coaxed, argued, all in a breath. Dr. C- vainly strove to
awe them into silence ; meanwhile I had been using my eyes,
and pointing out one special driver I begged Dr. C- to take

1896.]

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

219

BC
K

C/i
G

him, and to secure doing so jumped into his carriage whilst the

final bargaining for the same was carried on. All went well,

and presently we were off for Bibbiena, which we saw on a

hill, but which was

distant at least a

mile, it being the

fashion almost

everywhere in

Italy to have the

railway stations

at ridiculously

long distances

from the towns or

villages that they

are supposed to

accommodate.

I had chosen
our driver for his
beauty. Never,
except in a Greek
statue, have I seen
such perfection of
form and feature,
made more beau-
tiful by rich olive
coloring, curly
brown hair, milk-
white teeth, and
eyes larger, more
liquid, more gold-
en brown in hue
than even Italian
eyes are wont to
be. He was such
a nice fellow
too, good-natured,
courteous, full of
child-like simplic-
ity, as so many of
his nation are.

Such perfect health and strength and beauty were sufficient
witnesses to the temperateness of his life. He proved himself
to be all we could desire in a driver, and as fully honest as it

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22O Two DAYS AT LA VERNA. [Nov.,

is possible to an Italian driver to be, the code of truth and
honesty being almost, through no fault of these Southerners,
different from that of Northern nations.

Bibbiena is a quaint little hill town, with the unfailing nar-
row streets, but they were flooded with sunshine that day.
We rested and had an excellent luncheon in a homely but
clean and comfortable inn, where the charges were low and
the attendance kindly; but we were longing to push on to La
Verna, and our handsome driver was quite ready for us. Half
the children and many of the women of the little town turned
out to see us and our luggage packed in. One wonders that
by this time the Italians have not lost their interest in us for-
eigners, but, on the contrary, it seems increasing.

As soon as we had descended from Bibbiena we began to
ascend, and with the exception of an occasional abrupt declivity
continued so to do. We delighted in this upland ; the breezy
air of the hills, tempering the heat of the brilliant sunshine,
invigorated us and raised our spirits to a delightful pitch.
" The attraction of the Heights ' is indeed great to all of our
nation, and to most of the saints and monks of olden times it
seems to have been equally powerful. To our St. Francis it
certainly must have been so, or he would not have accepted
the gift of Mount Alverna from the Count Orlando da Chiusi,
and on its rugged, barren rocks built his monastery.

We exulted as we left the vineyards and the maize-fields
behind us, and gained a veritable Scottish moor, strewn with
great boulder rocks, " fragments of an earlier world "; and
covered with juniper bushes, and various kinds of mountain
flowers, conspicuous amongst them the broad silvery disc of the
" pilgrim's thistle," and another species of the same plant, of
a rich indigo blue.

From the moor we passed into a little wood of stunted
oaks and beeches, from which, small as they were, some peas-
ants were ruthlessly cutting off branches, and on Dr. C-
asking why they were doing so, we were told that it was to
provide fodder for the beasts in the winter, that in that moun-
tain region would shortly be a present reality. Then we came
to meadows skirted by the stream that, in answer to the prayers
of St. Francis, issued from the barren rocks far above ; and
immediately after we drew up at a little cluster of cottages,
with here and there a larger, higher house just what the Scots
would call a " clachan." Here we were told we must leave the
carriage and walk the further and steeper ascent to the mon-

1896.]

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

221

astery that towered above us, built into the very rocks of a
beetling crag, looking like that noble one on which stands
Edinburgh Castle, and almost exactly its height, 840 feet,
from that point which we had now reached. We longed to be
going onwards and upwards. Our wished-for goal was now
"so near, and yet still so far"!

First, however, some arrangements had to be made for the
disposal of my night. We were shown the outside of the rather
high, straggling house in which ladies are lodged ; but, as the
good women in charge sisters of the Third Order of St. Fran-
cis na d gone to the monastery to assist at Benediction, I
could not then see the inside. My bag and rugs were duly
placed at the door,
with assurances of
their perfect safe-
ty. Some one of-
fered to carry Dr.

C r's bags to

the monastery,
and we were free
to begin the steep
and stony, but for-
tunately winding,
ascent that one
feels as a Via
Sacra, not only
because of the
sanctuary to which
it leads, but also
for the lofty
Latin crosses that stand beside it, in their form eloquent wit-
nesses to the faith in which and for which St. Francis lived and
founded his order, and in their rough, unpolished, unpainted
wood, to the still-abiding presence amongst his sons of the
" Lady Poverty," the bride he loved so well. Near the begin-
ning of the way is the first of the Luoghi Santi with which the
mount abounds. It is a tiny chapel over the spot where the
birds welcomed Francis on his first visit to La Verna. The
iron gate set in the round archway was locked, but we looked
through its bars and saw, behind the simple altar, a fresco of
the saint, life size, sitting under an oak and surrounded by
birds; but these are not flatly .painted on the wall they, are
made of colored metal, and suspended by slight invisible wires.

B.IBBIENA.

222

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

[Nov.,

The birds fly round the saint's head, and rest on his arms and

shoulders. This pleased us immensely. It is such a pretty

.realization of the sweet old story of the love of the gentle birds

I :. i '

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I HI

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(God's own unfailing songsters) for the gentle monk, who, re-
paying their love, called them his brothers and sisters, and in
fellowship with them sang his hymns of praise, sweet-syllabled
canticles that even now the peasants of the Casentino know

1896.]

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

223

and sing. At last we reached the low-arched gateway of the
monastery, entering therein as into a holy place, although^only
a small, insignificant portion of the original building erected by

LINEN-SELLERS.

St. Francis now exists, nearly all of it, and the additions of
following years, being destroyed by fire in 1472, with the ex-
ception of the church, which dates from 1264. The service of
Benediction was going on in the principal church, which is, I
believe, as a parish church to the inhabitants of the little vil-
lage I have mentioned, and to all who live within any approach-
able distance. I was enchanted by the rich, deep-toned voices
of the monks, and even still more by the organ accompani-
ment played in a masterly fashion. Instantly one recognized
and felt the presence of that indescribable yet most real gift,
genius, which, in whatever department of art, literature, and
science it may develop itself, has the power of conveying a
sense of absolute confidence in those who see or hear its ope-
rations ; some weeks afterwards I learnt from a professional

224

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

[Nov.,

musician that the organist of the La Verna monastery is as
celebrated as a poor Franciscan monk whose secular name is
unknown can possibly be, and that were he but " in the world '
he would soon gain fame and wealth. Although it was still
only a little after five o'clock, we were told that it was too
late to make the round of Luoghi Santi that evening, so we
made our way to the " Hospiticum," a detached building near
the entrance gates. Plain and unadorned indeed is the guests'
reception-room, and smaller and plainer is the dining-room-
although it has a large mirror above the mantel-piece. The
presence of such a piece of furniture in such a place rather
amused us. We were not sorry to hear that supper was ready,
for the crisp mountain air had given us an appetite. It must
be remembered that the day was Friday ; therefore the fare,
always of the plainest, was of course especially so. There was
a thick soup, curiously but not unpleasantly flavored with
thyme, and some other herb unfamiliar to me. This was fol-
lowed by a dish of stewed potatoes what Scottish peasants
call "stooed potatoes " very rich and good, if only it had not
been so strongly seasoned with onions, which, though not greatly
felt at the time of eating, were not pleasant in remembrance ;
one had to be devoutly thankful that at least there was no

LOMBARD OXEN.

garlic. Lastly came some cold tunny, not by any means bad
eating, as the flavor somewhat resembles that of cold pickled
salmon. Very brown bread and the wine of the country were
the accompaniments of this meal, some bits of which we shared

1896.]

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

22$.

with a large and handsome cat, which though occasionally driven
away by the serving brother, would return to our side. Was

O
5C

C
15

M
50

T 1

)

C/5

O
W
a;

there ever an Italian monastery yet where cats are not fa-
vored pets?

Almost immediately after finishing supper we descended
the hill, and this time found my hostesses at home. They
VOL. LXIV. 15

226 Two DAYS AT LA VERNA. [Nov.,

were exceedingly plain, hard-featured women, completely peas-
ants, but eminently respectable and civil after a somewhat
dour fashion. They were evidently impressed by the sight of
the ecclesiastic, and promised him to take care of me, and to
help me in any little matters in which, not being strong, I
might need help. The reception-room at the monastery is lux-
urious compared with that at the ladies' lodging. Not a shred
of carpet on the stone floor, in the centre of which is an enor-
mous white deal table, uncovered by a cloth and surrounded
by the veritable "kitchen chairs' of English domestic life.

Dr. C- was obliged to hasten back to the monastery,
and I own that as I heard his retreating steps I felt rather
dismayed at the thought of the hours of loneliness before me
in that bare and cheerless room. Although not much after
seven, the twilight had already come, and a light was brought
in, a lamp of the antique Tuscan (or more truly Etrurian)
form, the exquisite gracefulness of which is a continual pleas-
ure. On my eager inquiry whether this light would last till
morning, I was assured that it would, if only I would raise the
oil in the proper fashion and trim the wick with the lovely
old scissors hanging from the stand.

All the supply of literature that I had with me was a
prayer-book and a guide-book. I occupied myself with the
latter for a time, then wrote a letter to the daughter I had
left at Vallombrosa, and finally took to singing easily and
pleasantly done in that large, lofty, and almost empty room.
The sounds brought in one of the old hostesses, who ex-
pressed her pleasure therein, and asked if she might sit
down and listen. Of course I said "Yes"; and changed from
the English hymns that I had been singing to an Ave
Maria, and the Magnificat in Latin to a Gregorian chant. She
liked these, she courteously said, but begged for a repetition of
the tunes she had heard at a distance ; and when told that I
knew only English words for them she said that that did not
matter. After hearing two or three she was going away, when
I begged her to buy me some bread and a little wine from
the small osteria I had noticed next door. She said that she
would get the wine, but that there was no bread to be had
but the hardest and blackest possible ; she would give me some
of her own, wfcich was softer. If it were, that of the osteria
must have been a stone from the monastery-crag ! I had to
punch out little bits of the crumb with the help of an ancient
clasp-knife, delightfully quaint in form, and with an inlaid

1896.]

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

227

particolored handle (I wish I had asked if I might buy it !).
The wine was vinegar, or at any rate too like it for my drink-
ing, so I asked for water, and that was absolutely delicious.

--* -

H
B
JO

a
n

r
o

*-H

Cfi

It was still only nine o'clock ; but what was one to do if
one stayed up ? I had, alas ! exhausted my writing paper ; the
guide-book had ceased to please, the mood for singing had

228 Two DAYS AT LA VERNA. [Nov.,

passed by ; therefore, lamp in hand, all its slender chains
jingling as I went, I betook myself to my bed-chamber, which
to my comfort I knew to be next to that of the ancient
dames. It also was innocent of all carpet or curtains, and con-
tained in the way of furniture only two of the broadest and
highest beds I ever saw in my life ; two deal kitchen chairs, a
small deal table, and two crescent-shaped shelves set in corners
of the walls, each holding a basin about the size of a sugar-
bowl ; and on the floor below each one of the lovely brass
water-vessels that have come down through the ages to these
art-favored Italians. The supply of mundane furniture might
be scanty, but there was a wealth of " objets de devotion '
crucifixes, pictures of saints, statuettes of the Madonna and of
the angels, and holy-water stoups. Between the beds was a
commodious prayer-desk, and by the aid of its wide kneeling-
step and a chair I accomplished the feat of getting myself up
into that one of the lofty erections I had chosen, and when in,
though it was hard and its linen coarse, I had a fairly good
night's rest ; for all was exquisitely clean, and there are no
vexatious mosquitoes nor gnats in that mountain region. I
arose at six, and, having coaxed my old lady to give me some
hot water, washed as well as the tiny basin would allow cf
doing ; and, fortunately, I could supply the lack of a mirror by
a small one from my own dressing-bag. When I was dressed I
was brought a cup of hot and very strong black coffee, which,
to my dismay, I had to drink without milk, as none could be
had at the osteria, or anywhere else, my hostess assured me.
I scooped out a few more morsels of bread from the piece that
I had had given me the night before, and after this frugal meal
felt so fresh and bright that when I heard Dr. .C- -'s voice in
the passage calling out " Are you alive ? ' I could heartily re-
ply " Very much so indeed " ; and present myself ready dressed
to start for the monastery. I expected to hear that he had said
his Mass and had breakfasted ; but, in his great kindness, he had
first come down for me, sure that I should value the privilege
of assisting at Mass in the Chapel of the Stigmata (the " Holy
of holies' of that monastery), he being granted by the monks
the favor of celebrating it there.

The long, covered passage, winding above the very edge of
the mighty cliff, and leading from the large church to the
chapel, adds, in some sense, to the awe and hushed calm of
feeling with which one naturally approaches so long hallowed a
spot. The evening before I had regretted not seeing it then.

1896.]

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

229

Now I was glad to enter it for the first time^simply for the
purpose of joining in the highest act of worship that man can
offer to his Maker. Two of the monks, a contadino and myself,

' ORA PRO NOBIS."

were the only assistants at that quietly solemn service. It was
another of those half-hours of life which must stand out from
amongst the unremembered many, to be remembered always.

230 Two DAYS AT LA VERNA. [Nov.,

Dr. C 's manner of celebrating is, at all times, singularly

impressive and devotional. Naturally, it was even more so
than usual that day, for, if ordinary lay-folk are stirred and
thrilled by a first visit to a spot where so great and mysterious
a privilege was vouchsafed to one of God's holiest servants,
what must not be the emotions of a priest who can there
offer the Holy Sacrifice in full assurance that that saint and
" all the company of heaven ' are offering it with him ?
Above the only altar is a very fine Andrea della Robbia of
the only possible siibject for that chapel a representation,
and if one may say so, an almost adequate representation, of
the Crucifixion. Although the artist has made the cross truly
the throne of suffering, he has yet shown it as the noblest
throne of earth, whereon the God-man reigneth King con-
queror by and over pain vanquisher, in being vanquished.
Next to the great beauty and pathos of the central figure
comes that of St. Francis, and the yearning, tender, all-pitying
love in his upturned face is a thing to marvel at, not to
describe, even if one could. The whole work is not only a
triumph of art, though it is that ; it is an inspiration, and, \\ it
do not inspire holy thoughts and lofty desires in those who
see it, making them better than ever before, it must, alas !
make them worse. In front of the altar, and almost in the
centre of the chapel, is a grating covering the spot where,
according to tradition, the wonderful privilege was vouchsafed.

" Nel crudo sasso, in tra Tevere et Arno,
Do CRISTO prese 1'ultimo sigillo
Che le sue membra du anni portarmo."

-Dante, pas. xi. 100.

After Matins, on Wednesdays and Fridays, kneeling around
this grating, and in perfect darkness, the monks scourge them-
selves with steel disciplines. One could not but remember
that kneeling there in the beauteous morning sunshine, and
feel ashamed of that easy-going Christianity, the sort of " arm-
chair ' piety, that characterizes too many of the nineteenth
century Christians. One regret I had : that the monks, whilst
thus disciplining themselves, cannot see that exquisitely beautiful
altar-piece, so as to have before the bodily as well as the
mental eye so touchingly suggestive a representation of that
one suffering which sanctifies all pain, and that alone renders
any that is self-inflicted a worthy and acceptable offering. In

1 896.]

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

231

the little ante-chapel there is, above the altar, a large-sized
figure of St. Francis, a late addition, and though I do, not as
a rule like colored statues, this one seemed to be creditable to
modern art ; but to compare it with that full interpretation of
the saint's face, that presentment of the whole man, which
Andrea della Robbia was inspired to give to himself and us,
and of Avhich I have already spoken, would be almost a pro-
fanation. Yet I greatly fear that the modern brethren, good,
simple souls! have a greater pride in this new statue that is
uncovered only on festas and for visitors. There is something
else there, though, that is better. Round the niche in which

POPPI, FROM THE PlAZZA OF BlBBIENA.

the figure stands is trained the beautiful Australian creeper
that bears delicate-hued lavender-blue blossoms, two or three
of which I was given by the kindly, bright-mannered young
monk who, after we had breakfasted, conducted us to all the
Luoghi Santi. They are numerous, and the tour involved a
considerable amount of exertion ; but I would not have missed
, an inch of the road, for not only is the associative interest
great, but the scenery is wild and romantic.

The narrow gorges between giant rocks, and the zigzag
wooded paths cut out on the face of the cliff, precipice above
and precipice below, reminded me of Dollar Glen, and of many
other famously beautiful places in bonnie Scotland. In the

232

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

[Nov.,

rocky clefts and beside the mossy paths grow many delicately
fronded ferns, and quantities of cyclamen ; so, probably, the

ALTAI* PIECE IN TIIS CHAPEL OF THS STIGMATA, LA VERNA.

wild boars sometimes take their walks there in the depth of
winter, its root, whic!i they ruthlessly dig up, being a favorite
food with them.

1896.] Two DAYS AT LA VERNA. 233

We were accompanied in our pilgrimage by two peasant
children, black-eyed lassies of eight and ten years old. The
elder wore a triple row of rose-seeds round her dusky throat,
making a point of vivid color between it and the white
chemisette that was most effective. Very devout were these
little girls, joining with much fervor in the brief prayers which
it is the pious custom to offer at each of the shrines, and

CATHEDRAL OF SANTA RUFINO.

which prayers our guide, although himself a priest, invariably
asked Dr. C- to lead.

I think that there are perhaps too many of these holy
places. Human nature cannot feel the same fervor of devotion
in each separately, especially when the underlying interest is
the same in all. The one which touched me the most was the
deep, dark cavern, shut in by lofty walls of rock, where, per-
petually chanting the penitential psalms, St. Francis spent
the Lent of St. Michael. We all know the story : how only one
monk, Brother Leo, was allowed to visit him, and that only once

234

Two DAYS AT LA VERNA.

[Nov.,

a day, bringing a little bread and water; and once also at night,
at which time he had always to wait at the narrow entrance, and
to say " Domine, labia mea aperies," and how, if an answer
came, he might enter the cave and say Matins with the saint ;
and how, if there was silence, he was forced to depart.

" Very unwillingly," mused I to myself, must he have turned
away his steps, and I hoped that the saint did not often give
him that pain. "In this world we cannot have everything."

" No pleasure, not even the
purest, is perfectly satisfy-
ing ! ' No proverbs are more
true than these, and yet
there are few that the hu-
man mind is more- apt to
forget ; and thus it was that
whilst really enjoying all
this beautiful scenery, and
these interest-fraught places,
I was also longing to be
hearing the music in the
church, where I knew that
a Mass for a brother just
dead was going on. At
last we were free to go
there, and, to my great
satisfaction, in time to hear
the " De Profundis," which in vocal and instrumental rendering

was simply perfect ; truly-

" The music was

Of divine stature, strong to pass,
.

With giant march : from floor to roof

Rose the full notes now parted off

In pauses, massively aloof,

Like measured thunders ; now rejoined

In concords of mysterious kind

Which fused together sense and mind."

FRESCO BY GIOTTO, AT ASSIST.

" In pauses, massively aloof." I know no other words where-
with to give you an idea of the solemn minims of the opening
line " De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine."

The anguish of the cry from the depths pressed itself into
the soul; then, thanks to God! rose to the Throne on high-

1896.] Two DAYS AT LA VERNA. 235

" Flashing, sharp on sharp along," and coming back to earth
in a torrent of rainbow-hued notes, the glad confidence of-
" Quia apud Dominum misericordia, et copiosa apud eum re-
demptio."

To hear that psalm sung to such music in St. Francis's own
La Verna was a great lesson. It seemed the embodiment of
the saint's whole life " from the depths ' to the mercy and
the " plenteous redemption." And now, far above and beyond
all need even of those, he sings " Magnificat anima mea Domi-
num."

All too swiftly passed the moments of our one remaining
hour. Part of it was spent in taking a meal very similar to
that of the preceding evening, because in Italy Saturday is
also a day of abstinence. We took farewell of the two or
three kindly monks with whom we had come in contact, and
then reluctantly passed out of the monastery gates ; and not
by the stony road, but by a shorter way, through a marshy
and yet rock-strewn meadow, reached the village where our
handsome charioteer and his little carriage were duly ready
for us.

Over and above the brilliancy of the sunshine, and the balmi-
ness of the air, the return journey had its own pleasant epi-
sode. Dr. C- asked the driver to buy some grapes from one
of the many vineyards that skirted all the road when once the
hill region had been left behind. For a few pence great clus-
ters of purple grapes, with leaves and stems and curling ten-
drils, were heaped in my lap, until I could have imagined my-
self Pomona. As the good monks' rather over-salted fare had
made us thirsty we did enjoy those grapes, and for at least a
quarter of an hour our tongues were silent. The downward
path is ever easy, and so we too quickly reached Bibbiena sta-
tion ; and the poetry of the past twenty-four hours was soon
merged in the prose of every-day life, but the glamour of its
memory is still with me, writing in golden letters the lesson it
was meant to teach.

236 BISHOP POTTER AND ANGLICAN ORDERS. [Nov.,

BISHOP POTTER AND ANGLICAN ORDERS:

WHAT NOW ?

BY HENRY AUSTIN ADAMS.

HE Holy Father has at last spoken on the ques-
tion of Anglican orders. And so has Dr. Pot-
ter, the Protestant Bishop of New York, in his
late charge to the clergy of his diocese. The
Servant of the servants of God has decided.
And he is so fortunate as to get the assurance from Dr. Potter
that, on the whole, his decision is a rather good one. At all
events this right reverend critic of the Sovereign Pontiff is
"profoundly thankful' that the chief shepherd of Christendom
has declared that his (Dr. Potter's) priestly orders are absolutely
invalid ! In fact the bishop fairly gloats over this, and, with a
smack of his lips, tells his assembled clergy that the Holy
Father's declaration that not one of them was ever a priest is
a welcome piece of news, singularly calculated to advance the
cause of Christ in the world. The lofty allusion of Dr. Potter
to the " large ignorance' and "provincial narrowness' of Leo
XIII. is simply delicious, while the flippant, jaunty, incredibly
impudent air of the bishop's charge has been already comment-
ed upon editorially in a great secular newspaper.

HALF A CENTURY ROMEWARD.

The recent learned and characteristic pronouncement of the
Vicar of Christ brings to a close one of the most momentous
causes of modern times ; and Bishop Potter's charge to the
Protestant ministers of New York, a day or two after, betrays
the fact that much not visible upon the surface hung upon
Leo's word. For fifty years the spiritual impulse of the great
Anglican communion has been persistently toward Catholicity.
A steady stream of converts showed how the currents moved,
while the magnificent advance of ritual (in spite of the au-
thorities and rooted prejudices in high places) proved that
the very heart of England was grown devout, and that the
bulwalks of the Reformation were crumbling fast. Along
with this, part cause and part effect of it, sprang up a sacer-
dotal sense among the clergy, and what was once pure " par-

1896.] BISHOP POTTER AND ANGLICAN ORDERS. 237

son ' became a " priest." The reading-desk diminished both
in size and meaning directly that the altar was built anew
and raised on steps, and decked with cross and candles. The
apostolical succession became absorbing ; the priestly powers of
sacrifice and absolution dearer than all.

No wonder that when views like these became wide-spread
men turned toward Rome, whose orders no one questioned, to
seek corroboration at her hands. And who but God shall know
the hours of mortal anguish suffered by those who, having
learned the deep, unspeakable desire for priesthood, knew not
with certitude whether that grace was theirs ? It was from
bottomless, vague terrors of the night of doubt that some
sought certainty and peace through roundabout and devious
means such as the secret society for corporate reunion whose
members, remaining beneficed clergymen of the Church of Eng-
land, secured reordination on the Continent from certain bishops
of the Roman line.

Others great multitudes were these finding no peace in
the discharge of functions for which the good and sure authority
was at least uncertain, fled for salvation to the Rock of Peter,
preferring much to be lay tk keepers of the door of the house of the
Lord than to dwell in the tabernacles of unrighteousness."

NIBBLING AT UNITY.

Meanwhile, the whole communion of the Anglicans was being
leavened, and one heard less and less of " Christian unity ' from
which the Church of Peter was left out. Innocent talk about
the Holy Father's "primacy but not supremacy' began to
be indulged in by ritualists, and even deans and bishops (in
guarded phrase) would now and then refer to the two hundred
million Catholics as part of Christendom. Then came such
movements as that of the English Church Union coquetting
boldly with the ecclesiastics on the Continent, chiefly in France.
And then came that unprecedentedly great and good man for
such a cause Lord Halifax, with his avowed intention to con-
sult the Pope. He did consult him. And so at length came
the commission to inquire into the question of the validity of
English orders. Roma locuta est causa finita est. The cause is
ended.

What will the consequences be ? Catholics, it is quite pos-
sible to think, do not appreciate just what this question meant
to hundreds of English clergymen. Nobody, of course, can tell
what the result will be. It will be great, profound, immediate,

238 BISHOP POTTER AND ANGLICAN ORDERS. [Nov.,

most certainly. Nobody expected any other decision. Apart
entirely from theological and canonical considerations, a common-
sense view of the three hundred years of Anglican Protestant-
ism would lead the least informed observer to conclude that a
body of ministers exercising no sacerdotal functions, denounc-
ing in vehement terms the very name and office of a priest,
abolishing and denying the sacramental mysteries for many
generations, could possibly have been true priests. That their
successors were now longing for and claiming the sacred or-
ders could not make good this hiatus of three hundred years.

But so impelling was the sacrificial aspect of the priestly
character now grown that the august machinery of Rome was
set in motion to winnow out the chaff, of which great quanti-
ties exist about all antique quarrels, to find if haply but one
grain of wheat were there.

Had that one grain of the pure wheat of grace been found
in English orders, it would have meant that English Eucharists
contain the very Bread of Life, and that the clergymen of the
Established Church are true dispensers of God's great mys-
teries.

THE ANXIETY OF ENGLAND.

To thousands upon thousands Rome's word of approbation
would have meant joy unspeakable. England's first citizen and
foremost layman, William E. Gladstone, felt so intensely what
the Pope's word meant, that he wrote recently to ask the Holy
Father not to speak that word, lest should the word be nay-
the cause of Christian Union might be injured much. Before
innumerable altars the earnest clergy of the English Church
have prayed each day that Rome would recognize them, and
thus the one great, final barrier be burned away.

It makes one's head swim to imagine all that would have
instantly transpired had thirty thousand Anglicans been de-
clared true priests. The heartache of uncertainty for ever gone,
the precious balm of a good conscience at last allaying the aw-
ful smart of duty flinched from. The thrill of the awakening
of a day of wondrous meaning.

Was Leo tempted ? Dr. Potter says he was and lauds him
for resisting. Leo was tortured rather. As a father is, so was
the father of the faithful tortured by yearning love. They
asked a stone the rock of error ; he gives them bread the
bread of truth. And while he feeds them thus he feels does
not his language show it ? he feels that by his very benedic-

1896.] BISHOP POTTER AND ANGLICAN ORDERS. 239

tion he may drive them from him ! From him ! who has so
yearned and prayed and agonized for them !

O Holy Father! they will come! not in battalions, as
troublous, doubtful allies, but singly, and in humbleness of
heart. They will come now now as they came never in all
time before, now that the Voice that all the unseen workings
of the Holy Ghost are making men revere has told them the
plain truth.

Quite reverently one may be able to look down into the
great warm hearts of those true men who sought for Leo's
word, and see, now that the word is said, that shock of bitter
sorrow from which the miracles of grace do most spring forth.
How many reading this pronouncement in the morning papers
knew what an epoch had been made in Christian history ?

Such, then, has been this celebrated cause, weighed by so
able and so great a Pontiff. A vital, elemental, and far-reach-
ing matter has been decided. God will again be justified, and
man be taught.

And Bishop Potter says that he is glad ! Glad that he
whom Gladstone calls the first bishop of Christendom, and
whom Dr. Potter styles " venerable," has sorrowfully had to say
that not a man whom Bishop Potter has ordained was thereby
made a priest !

What does he care? Not a fig! He says so. And he calls
such men as Lord Halifax " unmanly ' and "fatuous." And,
forgetting apparently his whole past role of an apostle of
" unity ' and Catholicity, he comes out in his true colors as a
downright vindictive Protestant one who rejoices in the fact
that this " far-seeing age ' of ours is much too knowing to be
hoodwinked by ecclesiastical authorities. The world is going
to do its own thinking. The past, with its apostolic successions,
authorities, traditions, doctrines, must now look sharp, as it
stands at the bar of the modern thinker (?) and everything
must rest on its own basis. What seems so to me, is so to
me. And being so to me it must be so to you, or else you are
not a thinker !

AN APOTHEOSIS OF INDIVIDUALISM AND INCERTITUDE.

Not often in these latter days of unctuous "alliances' and
" movements looking to Christian unity " are we treated to such
outspoken Protestantism. Here is this famous bishop, stung
by the declaration of the Holy Father, stultifying himself, and

240

BISHOP POTTER AND ANGLICAN ORDERS. [Nov.,

coming out squarely for private judgment and the divinity of
doubt. The Pope is ignorant, provincial, and incapable of see-
ing a question in the clear, broad way in which Dr. Potter
does! And, anyhow, who pays the slightest attention to what
the Pope says ? As a wretched piece of taste, as an insult to
fully half of the very clergy who had to hear it, and as an
evidence of the shallowness of his pompous posing as a lover
of unity, this charge of the bishop of New York to his clergy
in convention assembled is a masterpiece. It states that "we
are the organs of the Voice"; we that is to say, each one of
us is an organ of the One Voice! Sitting before him as he
spoke were doubtless the rectors of St. Ignatius' (dizzy), St.
Agnes' (high), St. George's (broad), All Souls (agnostic), St.
Bartholomew's (comfortable), Heavenly Rest (sweetness and
light) representing every form of belief from that of " Robert
Elsmere ' to that of Newman. And yet their right reverend
ventriloquist maintained that they " we are the organs of the
Voice." So be it ! To such a man what does the sublime con-
ception of unity which Leo presents signify? One may judge
which tends toward the reunion of the world the abounding
charity and unyielding truthfulness of our great shepherd, or
the flaunting individualism and supercilious egotism of this
modern specimen of an ecclesiastic.

At the very moment that the cold, disheartening periods of
Bishop Potter's charge were dropping from his icy lips scores
of devout men sat before him with wonder and disgust down
in their souls ; men who believe themselves the priests of God,
and .know that Leo XIII. is neither ignorant nor base; men,
therefore, who will ponder what he says, and find a new grief
it may be finally a new joy contained in it.

1896.]

PURGA TOR Y.

241

PURGATORY.

BY M. T. BLACK.

EARLESS above the wild and snow-capped height
The eagle sails, not knowing full his might,
Till, baffled once before the storm-cloud's force,
An instant backward driven in his course,
Again he tries the gale and battles through
There, in the boundless heaven's eternal blue,

To tempt the sun.

With burning kindled by sweet freedom's breath,
The soldier, for his cause despising death,
Knows not the joy for which he fiercely fights,
Till, once repelled, he scales again the heights,
Upon the conquered ramparts there to stand
Flushed with the light of hope for fatherland

In battle won.

Through death to Love hastes the repentant soul,
Nor knows how stainless is the spirit's goal,
Until, restrained in love's reluctant fire,
Refined by pain of unattained desire,
She thence escapes, pure, to a purer light,
And knows that 'neath the warmth of God's fair sight

Life is begun.

VOL. LXIV. 16

1896.]

LORD RUSSELL OF KILLOWEN.

243

LORD RUSSELL OF KILLOWEN AND THE CHIEF-
JUSTICESHIP OF ENGLAND.

BY A TEMPLAR.

ORD RUSSELL of Killowen or, to give his full
title and style, the Right Honorable Sir Charles
Russell, knight, Lord Russell of Killowen is not
the least remarkable of that line of great law-
yers who have had so much to do with " mak-
ing ' the constitutional and criminal law of England. I say
" making ' advisedly, because, putting aside the more or less
fanciful theory of lost enactments, the common law in so far
as it is distinguished by lawyers from the statute law, and in
fact all case-law, is judge-made law. We find it in the reports
that fill law libraries ; and this vast mass of precedent has been
steadily growing through the ages, partly by judgments inter-
preting clauses of a statute, such as are had on clauses of the
statute of frauds ; partly by the enunciation of a principle
already latent in some enactment, or a judgment, or a doctrine
of the common law, like a particular application of the statute
of uses, for instance, or like the deducing of the rule in Shel-
ley's case;* and partly by the still further unfoldjn^ of a prin-
ciple already enunciated, as in the evolution of a tenancy from
year to year out of a tenancy at will, the law on the agricul-
tural customs, the rights held to be incident to other rights or
to duties, say in some cases of burgage tenure, or the rise
and growth of the complicated law of trusts in land out of the
practice of feoffments to uses. It may be said that almost all
the greatest lawyers in equity and at common law for more
than tvvo centuries have laid the foundation for success in this
labor of law-reporting.

It is not, however, an essential step to success ; for Russell
does not seem to have been a law-reporter, but that he was
an uncommonly good pleader I have some reason to believe.
Indeed I was strongly recommended in 1863, or thereabouts, to
study pleading with him. And the advice was given by a per-
son who knew well the fitness of Russell to teach the art of

* Every English lawyer will know that I do not mean the equity case concerning the cus-
tody of children, but the great case that gives the rule for determining the meaning of the
word " heirs " in a settlement.

244 LORD RUSSELL OF KILLOWEN [Nov.,

pleading,* but who differed from him toto coelo in political and
religious sympathies. My friend was a considerable country
gentleman in Roscommon, Mr. Kennedy of Oakport, Boyle, who
had been called to the English bar and stayed at Westminster
for a few terms after his call. In a paper like this, which must
be largely a gossipy one, consisting as it does, to some ex-
tent, of family history, and to some extent of a history of the
great office which Lord Russell of Killowen fills, it will not
be out of keeping to tell the American reader some things
about the legal profession in England which he could not by
any possibility know from his experience of the institution in
his own country.

The very person alluded to above as my adviser was one of
a class peculiar to the British Isles, and the like of which, the
parallel for which, can only be found in Rome, and particularly
Rome up to the Empire. The reader will see in Blackstone's
Commentaries that that jurist impresses on young men who
were to take a leading place in their counties on account of es-
tate and social status, the propriety of making a study of the
law. In this he was as much giving recognition to an usage
as recommending a practice. There is hardly a great family in
England that is not descended from a lawyer. Even all the
blood of all the Howards flows from Sir William Howard, who
was most likely chief-justice, certainly a puisne judge, in the
reign of Edward I., and the present Prime Minister of England
belongs so distinctly to a legal family that it would be con-
trary to precedent if some son in every generation was not
bred to the law. Consequently we have Lord Robert Cecil a
practising barrister at the present moment. As I have said, it
was usual for a young man, the heir of a great estate, to get
called to the bar for the sake of the honorary degree, and to
go a circuit or two before he proceeded to administer unpaid
justice at petty and quarter sessions in his county.f

At the same time, though barristers were very great gentle-
men, or at least supposed to be so, one finds a very decided
admiration for fees handed down among them from the earliest

* By pleading is meant the drawing of pleas that is to say, the allegations of statement
and answer until issue is knit between the parties. From this it must be seen that a good
pleader is very possibly a different man to a good advocate, though he may be both. At com-
mon law a man must know his practice, procedure, and precedents to be a good pleader, but
to be a good advocate he need not know anything well, hardly anything.

t The reader will have no difficulty in finding an allusion to this in Henry I V.., where we
learn that Shallow had spent his time at 'an inn of court, though he was to have land and
beeves ; but more distinctly is it suggestive of the custom when we read into the shadow, Jus-
tice Shallow, the reality, Sir Thomas Lucy, a man of character and standing in Shakspere's
boyhood.

1896.] AND THE CHIEF-JUSTICESHIP OF ENGLAND. 245

times ; and this despite the theory that they were not to be
paid for their services.* I am not aware to what extent the
Roman relation of patron and client subsisted in England; it
extended almost the whole way in- Ireland to living memory,
and over a great part of the way in Scotland, until the Union
in 1707, when a pettifogging class began to find their way to,
and introduced their own spirit into the Scotch bar. One thing
seems clear, that there is no account of any great English law-
yer attended by a retinue of clients such as accompanied a
Roman nobleman to the Forum, or crowded after Prime Ser-
geant Malone in the last century, or Mr. O'Connell in this, as
they proceeded to the Four Courts,! or followed a Maxwell to
the Parliament Close to show their Jacobitism, or a Campbell
to prove their Whiggery and Presbyterianism.

But for all that one will find at the English bar, and filling
the place now occupied by the Irishman, Charles Russell, mem-
bers of families as great as the Roman Fabii. The claimant
to the throne of Scotland, Robert de Brus, whose title was
vindicated by the valor and fortune of his son Robert at Ban-
nockburn, appears in the legal records as " Capitalis Justiciarius
ad placita coram Rege tenenda " the exact modern designation
of the chief of the Queen's Bench. It is curious enough, too,
that Bruce was the first who presided under the improved sys-
tem by which the chief of the King's Bench was required, at
least supposed, to have nothing more to do with military affairs
or the government of the kingdom. It had become by this
time the place of a lawyer rather than that of a minister and
judge combined.

Looking back from Lord Russell to Odo, Bishop of Bay-
eux and Earl of Kent,;): the first Chief Justiciar, as he was
called, we have a singularly interesting history of the develop-
ment of an institution running side by side with the advance
of the social system to which it belonged, and to whose pro-
gress it contributed in no small degree. Notwithstanding theo-
ries of social evolution, which are flaunted before us with the

* As a matter of fact a barrister cannot recover fees. The solicitor or attorney pays him
what are called fees, and includes them with the other items in his bill of costs.

1 1 do not think Anthony Malone ever appeared in the present Four Courts. Notwith-
standing the perversion of the family, the Malones were idolized as a great race of lawyers.

\ There is an amusing instance of cynical sagacity in the reply of William the Conqueror
to this half-brother Odo when arresting him for what would be like filibustering at present.
The king's officers had scrupled to lay hands upon him on account of the immunities claimed
by ecclesiastics, so he himself was obliged to seize Odo. When the latter claimed his exemp-
tion from temporal jurisdiction, William exclaimed : " God forbid that I should touch the
Bishop of Bayeux, but I make the Earl of Kent my prisoner."

246 LORD RUSSELL OF KILLOWEN [Nov.,

confidence of sciolism from lecture-room and platform, one
sees in the legal growth of English society evidence of constant
forces, prejudices, ambitions, social aggregates and their rivalries,
very much as they are to-day. Whatever change has taken place
in external life in its aspects of peace and war, or rather pub-
lic tranquillity and disturbance and the change is great it is
surprising how little difference, allowing for so many new fac-
tors, there is between the tone of the national mind under the
Norman and early Plantagenet kings and its tone in the pres-
ent hour.

As a proof of the principle just stated I shall cite the words
of Peter of Blois concerning the Aula Regis under date 1180.
This was the tribunal out of whose bosom the Queen's Bench
came, and which represented it more distinctly than did the co-
ordinate jurisdictions of the Common Pleas and Exchequer,
which, like the Queen's Bench, issued from that source. Speak-
ing of this great tribunal when Ranulfus de Glanville * became
chief justiciary "if causes," said Peter de Blois in his letter to
Henry II. , "are tried in the presence of your highness, or your
chief justiciar, then neither gifts nor partiality are admitted ;
then all things proceed according to the rules of justice and judg-
ment ; nor does ever the sentence or decree transgress the lim-
its of equity. But the great men of your kingdom, though full
of enmity against each other, unite to prevent the complaints of
the people against the exactions of sheriffs, or other officers in
any inferior jurisdictions, whom they have recommended and
patronize, from coming to your royal ears. The combination
of these magnates can only be truly compared to the conjunc-
tion of scales on the back of the behemoth of the Scriptures,
which fold over each other, and form by their closeness an im-
penetrable defence."

This quaint illustration of Peter de Blois applies with pain-
ful precision to the action of associated railway companies in
the United States, and combinations of capitalists aiming to con-
trol some industry or to obtain possession of some natural
agent. The grievances were clearly perceived then, and the
court was strong enough to deal with those that came before
it. But the interception of complaint by powerful influences
prevented too many of the wrongs of the poor from reaching
the court until at length, under the force of events and in the

* Glanville wrote " A Treatise on the Laws and Customs of the Kingdom of England,"
which on some points is still an authority. His precedents in real actions were the forms used
until such actions were abolished in the reign of William IV.

1896.] AND THE CHIEF-JUSTICESHIP OF ENGLAND. 247

grinding of war and revolution, that strong and settled justice
was secured in England which protects the artisan and the
laborer against wealth and power.

What would appear to be a more dangerous influence than
wealth and power, popular passion and enthusiasm, had to be
reckoned with by Lord Russell only the other day in trying
those prosecuted for the raid into the Transvaal and complicity
in the conspiracy to sustain it. Nor did it seem clear on the
last Foreign Enlistment Act that adhesion to a conspiracy
carried on within the jurisdiction of the crown by persons not
resident within the jurisdiction came within the purview of the
statute. If the noble and learned lord and his colleagues were
desirous to pander to public feeling there was at least in this
particular an opportunity to gratify it. I think the Chief in
dealing with those South African filibusters made rulings which
can compare for clearness of exposition, authority, and title to
respect with those of any of his predecessors in cases of public
passion and where consequences of the most far-reaching
character were involved.

It is thought that in this case exceptional and unsuspected
influences were at work. I should be sorry to think so ; but
we know that Lord Russell's predecessors were subjected to all
kinds of influence, and that the spirits of many were not then
wanting to the cause of liberty and justice. Kings, the Houses,
great personages, ministers one and all employed themselves
after their manner in trying to lead justice to betray its trust
and to become the terror instead of being the protection of the
subject. If some judges succumbed to the evil of the time, their
suppleness or their corruption is compensated for by the cour-
age and integrity of so many. Next to the examples of public
spirit that come to him from Greece and Rome, the school-boy is
animated by the sentence of Gascoigne, Chief-Justice, pronounced
upon Prince Henry: "And nowe, for your contempte and dis-
obedience, go you to the prysone of the kynges benche whit-
onto I commytte you, and remayne ye there prysoner until
the pleasure of the kynge your father be further knowen."

In some respects the present Chief-Justice is perhaps the
most remarkable of the entire line. As an advocate he had no
equal at the common-law bar. He had to contend against a
double prejudice against his country and religion, but almost
from his call he started into a practice which put him in the
foremost rank while still a comparatively young man. The
way he led for Mr. Parnell and the other " incriminated '

248 LORD RUSSELL OF KILLOWEN. [Nov.,

members is something never to be forgotten. His courage and
resource never failed him during all the anxiety of an inquiry
in which not merely the reputation of individuals was con-
cerned, but the very cause of his country, dearer to him than
all other interests, was deeply involved. Indeed in his whole
life Charles Russell is a signal example of ability, integrity,
fidelity winning the highest professional and social distinction
without causing any feeling anywhere except that of unmixed
satisfaction. I know of no Irishman settled in England except
himself, and perhaps the amiable and high-minded Earl of
Moira who became first Marquis of Hastings, who was not
anxious to be deemed an Englishman, if not in birth, in
sympathy and will. Edmund Burke laid upon the altar of
English greatness all his marvellous powers. Even his pro-
found knowledge of Irish affairs meant no more than an
equally profound knowledge of Indian ; and the hatred of
injustice and oppression which caused him to be so strenuous
an advocate of Catholic relief had its counterpart in his
speeches on questions affecting the interests of India, in his
exertions to bring about the impeachment of Warren Hastings,
and his wonderful efforts of industry and genius as one of the
managers of the impeachment.

As Burke did, Russell belongs to the lesser gentry of
Ireland, a class which produces well-bred and accomplished men,
but rarely men of great energy and ambition. Like Burke,* he
left behind him the narrow traditions of home, and trusted him-
self to the great theatre of the island where the whole life of
the empire pulsates. He was right. As a visitor said to me
only the other day, talking of the minority in Ireland, " There
is nothing in the world to compare with their sublime atti-
tude " ; and this attitude of utter intolerance of Catholicity and
contempt for national feeling ; this attitude of invincible superi-
ority which causes them to learn nothing and forget nothing,
would have prevented Russell from attaining high rank at the
bar unless, like a certain Catholic baronet, he sold himself, and,
like a certain Catholic lord, he sold his party.

* It may be added that, like Burke, he is a graduate of Trinity. Another Trinity man,
the late Earl Cairns, was the leader of the Equity Bar. So that in this generation one Irish-
man led the Equity, another the Common-law Bar of England. Russell received his prepara-
tory education from the Vincentians of Castleknock College, Dublin, of which at the time,
as I understand from the following story, Dr. Gillooly, the late Bishop of Elphin, was presi-
dent. I heard at a great country-house in Roscommon, Clonalis, the residence of The O'Conor
Don, that Lord Russell shortly after his elevation to the peerage met Dr. Gillooly at a water-
ing-place in Wales. It was the first time since he left Castleknock that he saw his old mas-
ter, and his first impulse was to adjust his dress to receive the customary flogging.

1896.] INSTITUTES FOR PAROCHIAL SCHOOL TEACHERS. 249

INSTITUTES FOR PAROCHIAL SCHOOL

TEACHERS.

BY B. ELLEN BURKE.

HE voluntary school system under parochial aus-
pices has become an educational force in the
United States that cannot be ignored and that
must be reckoned with. From small beginnings
it has grown into a wonderful organization.

The school-houses are built, the rooms are filled with chil-
dren, the teachers are at their posts. What is the next move-
ment for progress ?

It is well to repeat old truisms as new generations appear to
inherit the experiences of mankind, and none is more applica-
ble to-day to the parochial schools of the United States than
" In union there is strength " ; or clearer and stronger, " United
we stand, divided we fall." Are we united in a way that we
can stand, or are we a loose arrangement of units that is in
danger of falling ? Destruction will never come from without ;
the history of the nations where education flourished and
waned and died proves that decay begins from within. The
Catholic schools in the United States ought? to be united in
such a way that each and every school, from kindergarten to
university, might help each and every other school in the
land. The strength to be gained by union cannot be over-
estimated ; the inspiration of the many marching shoulder to
shoulder to battle in a common cause is not the least argu-
ment in favor of unification. As one spark can communicate
flame to tons of powder, so one new idea will frequently set in
motion a train of thought powerful enough to revolutionize the
methods of teaching thousands of children. It is sad almost to
despair to see the amount of force and power wasted by lack
of union force and power sufficient to energize the whole
teaching body with a life that cannot be created by isolation.

The child with only one childhood, with powers and possi-
bilities to become a fully developed being, with only one life
in which to prepare for eternity, needs and ought to have the
best the world can give by way of assistance during these bud-
ding, blossoming, ripening years. The soul God created and
Christ died for is worthy of the greatest care, profoundest
thought, and tenderest love. The teacher who comes in con-

250 INSTITUTES FOR PAROCHIAL SCHOOL TEACHERS. [Nov.,

tact with this soul, who professes ability to guide and inspire,
and knowledge to wisely furnish material and opportunity for
proper development, should be one with much understanding
of the law of growth, should know how to foster, lead, and
direct, should be growing herself. A cessation of growth in
either the one teaching or the one taught is a sure indication
of intellectual death.

ONE MILLION CHILDREN IN PAROCHIAL SCHOOLS.

Our children, our treasures, God's little ones, are in the
school-rooms being trained for time and eternity. The follow-
ing will show about the number of children at present in the
Catholic schools of the United States:

New York Province, ..... 205,234

Cincinnati ...... 156,445

Boston "...... 122,235

Philadelphia 107,326

Chicago ...... 77,960

Milwaukee " 54.726

St. Louis " 43,45O

New Orleans " 4M44

Baltimore " 31,286

San Francisco " 29,460

Dubuque " 27,959

St. Paul " 27,777

Oregon City " '-.',- 12,174

Santa F " 8,925

Total, 946,101

These figures fall below the aggregate of children in at-
tendance, as the number in some of the industrial schools could
not be ascertained in time for the writing of this article. The
reports from several of the larger cities indicate an increase
during the months of September and October, 1896, over the
months of the last scholastic year, sufficient to warrant the
assumption that there are nearly one million children now being
educated in schools under the auspices of the Catholic Church
in the United States. What a power for good is the right
education of so many people ! Whether the child be the son of
the beggar or the heir of the millionaire, he has a soul to save,
talents to develop, a work to do in this world, and possibilities
that belong to him alone. What need for good schools, the
very best !

THE BEST TEACHER IS NECESSARY.

The school is what the teacher makes it. If we want good
schools, we must have good teachers ; and if we want good

1896.] INS TITUTES FOR FARO CHI A L SCHO OL TEA CHER S.

teachers, we must aid them, care for them, encourage them
in every way possible. The people have been giving to the
teachers in the parochial schools a minimum of aid and have
been demanding a maximum of results. The teachers in the
state schools are receiving a vast amount of assistance that
always comes from intelligent co-operation. Conventions, asso-
ciations, summer-schools, and institutes in many parts of the
country enable the teachers to meet each other without the
cost being oppressive. Frequently the teachers in the parochial
schools can avail themselves of the benefits to be gained by
attendance at these gatherings. At the National Educational
Association in Buffalo, in July, 1896, a large number of nuns
were at the general and department sessions, but they were
principally ones living in Buffalo and vicinity. The question
of expense necessarily had to be taken into consideration.
The printed report of these meetings never conveys what the
living voice and flashing eye impart to the audience.

The Summer-School work begun in New London and con-
tinued in Plattsburg, Madison, and New Orleans has done
great good for the cause of education in the United States.
The work accomplished in these schools cannot be judged by
the amount done in the few weeks they are in session. The
stimulus given to higher education is far-reaching. The Uni-
versity extension courses and reading circles that have had
their rise in these centres extend out and beyond over the whole
country, and are manifestations of the value of the work begun
in these places. An interest in the work done in these schools
is a fair test of one's interest in the uplifting and betterment

of humanity.

THE TEACHERS' INSTITUTE WORK.

The Teachers' Institute work of 1895-96 opened up another
opportunity for the instructors in our parochial schools. As
this work was for teachers, it was so planned that the insti-
tute came to them, thereby giving a large number a chance to
avail themselves of this means of studying methods of teach-
ing. The institute work in Catholic schools in this country is
yet in a formative state, but plans are ready to be put into
operation that, if successful, will prove that this department of
work is one of such benefit to the teachers that it must be
sustained. In addition to the method work, which will always
be the marked feature, round tables are to be organized, there-
by giving all an opportunity to discuss the subjects in which
they are most interested. During the school year of 95-96
about three thousand nuns attended these institutes, or the

252 INSTITUTES FOR PAROCHIAL SCHOOL TEACHERS. [Nov.,

courses of lectures connected directly with the work. Already
application has been made for twelve institutes for the sum-
mer vacation of 1897.

"Teachers' Institute," as this phrase is now understood in
the United States and Canada, is a meeting of teachers for the
purpose of considering methods of teaching, ways and means
of governing children, or, to express the latter thought in
more correct terms, ways and means of developing self-con-
trol and of character-building in the child. The institute dif-
fers from the summer-school proper in that the one makes the
general topic of methods of teaching paramount, the other
gives prominence to subject-matter that will aid and broaden
all professional people. The institute is of interest to the doc-
tor or lawyer only as he is interested in the right methods of
educating the race ; the summer-school is of interest because his
own knowledge of subject-matter will be increased, and if he as-
similate what is given to him, he will become more cultured.
Both the institute and the summer-school are of personal value to

the teacher.

PUBLIC-SCHOOL INSTITUTE WORK.

The State of New York has a Bureau of Institutes under
the jurisdiction of the State Department of Public Instruction.
This institute force consists of a superior of institutes, five
conductors, three special teachers, and one lecturer. All the
members of the force are experienced teachers who are now
engaged all the year in connection with the institute work of
the State. An institute of one week is held in each one of
the 114 commissioner districts of the State. All persons en-
gaged in teaching in the public schools of the State, outside
the cities and towns employing a regular superintendent, are
obliged by law to attend these institutes. The teachers usually
attend the ones held in their own commissioner district.
Although city teachers are exempt because of the advantages
obtained from direct supervision and faculty meetings, many of
them do attend the State institutes. The instructors employed
by the State are authorized to visit normal schools or any
schools noted for good work, to attend conventions and asso-
ciations of teachers, and in every way keep in sympathy with
the great educational movements of the day. Educators deem
it essential that teachers should frequently meet each other,
exchange ideas, discuss the topics of the day pertaining to
their work, and in every way help one another.

In the other States of the Union the institute work, while
a recognized feature of the state departments of public instruc-

1896.] INS TITUTES FOR PARO CHI A L SCHO OL TEA CHER S. 2$$

tion, has not a bureau or sub-department of its own ; the instruc-
tors are selected and supported in a manner different from the
one employed in the State of New York. Frequently the teachers
in the elementary schools pay a large portion of the expenses
themselves, instead of all being furnished by the department.

In some of the Southern States the institute work is inaugu-
rated each season by a general meeting of all the instructors,
who spend several days together, receiving instruction in psy-
chology, pedagogy, and general methods from the best teachers
in the country professors [from the state universities and others.
They discuss among themselves the needs of each locality, the
results of work done in former years, and at the close of the
meeting go out to the different counties of the State and hold
institutes for the teachers in the elementary and secondary
schools. In no part of the country is greater enthusiasm mani-
fested at these meetings of teachers than in the prairie States.
It is nothing uncommon for the teachers to urge instructors to
extend the length of the session, and the early morn and the
late evening find them occupied with note-books or works of
reference, or engaged in discussions upon the mooted questions
taken up in general sessions.

The zeal and interest shown in the institute work inaugu-
rated for the benefit of teachers in parochial schools are second
to none manifested by educators in any part of the country
for any educational movement. This interest was not confined
to teachers alone, but extended to the clergy who supervised and
inspired the work and to all the friends of the parochial schools.
The work under consideration for 1897 will cover a greater area
and will be enriched by several new features not attempted the
first year.

LINES OF IMPROVEMENT.

Much is demanded and much will always be demanded of
institute instructors. They must be constant students, must
watch the trend of thought of the world in matters pertaining
to education, must study the best methods of teaching as ex-
emplified in the best schools of the country. The institute
force will need to be affiliated with some strong educational
centre, in order to be under the watchful eye and fostering
care of safe and reliable supervision. The question that will
need to be offered to the teachers in the institutes of 1897 will
be of great import. The strongest feature of the work of 1896
was how to correlate Christian doctrine with arithmetic, gram^
mar, nature-study, history, and all the subjects that belong in
the school-room.

254 INSTITUTES FOR PAROCHIAL SCHOOL TEACHERS. [Nov..

Evidently the reading circles, summer-schools, and institutes
are of sufficient educational value that they are to remain
with us. They are epoch-making facts in the history of the
church in the United States. They should be fostered and en-
couraged. Each branch of educational work has its own dis-
tinctive features, but all should be united for the common
good of the whole. " Communion of saints ' is broad enough
to include communion of those striving to be saints by doing a
great work for a great motive.

Our teachers need more assistance than can be given to
them during vacations only. We need an information bureau,
a place where the teacher can be free to write for instruction
on any subject. We need a national normal school. Each
novitiate is a normal school standing alone, neither giving nor
taking from the other normal schools of the land. No one is
free to visit it, to see and hear the method work, to watch the
novices in the practice school. We need a place where all in-
terested can go and see the work, remain days, months if neces-
sary, as pupils or observers ; bringing to it the good from the
whole world and taking from it whatever may be found need-
ful. In THE CATHOLIC WORLD of April, 1890, this idea of a
normal school for Catholic teachers was ably advanced by Right
Rev. J. L. Spalding, D.D., of Peoria, 111., and as long ago as
the early /o's McMaster, in the Freeman's Journal, gave us some
strong articles favoring such an institution. A school on a
broad foundation, with method teachers, model teachers, critics,
lecturers, practice schools, is just as necessary for the life of
our Catholic school system in the United States as the sunlight
for the life of the body. It should be a living fountain from
whence the whole teaching force could draw knowledge and inspi-
ration.

OPPORTUNITIES FOR THE PAROCHIAL SCHOOLS.

This national normal school might supply to an extent 'the
institute instructors, and both might be under the supervision
of a pedagogical department of some established institution of
learning. The closer the union of the elementary, secondary,
college, and university work the stronger will be our educa-
tional system and the better the schools for our children. We
can profit by the mistakes and successes of the state schools.
Intelligent, earnest, enthusiastic co-operation has done much for
the public-school system of America. The whole system is
grand in its conception, great in its opportunities, and marvel-
lous in its results. It lacks the one thing necessary, religious
teaching. But the public schools from a pedagogical .point of

1896.] INSTITUTES FOR PAROCHIAL SCHOOL TEACHERS. 255

view have some weak places because of their lack of union.
The normal schools are not parts of the colleges and the uni-
versities, and the institute instructors have no claims upon
normal schools or higher institutions of learning. The colleges
and universities have begun adding pedagogical classes, but
they have not yet normal school departments. Charles Eliot
Norton, of Harvard, says that " a comprehensive philosophic
scheme of education nowhere exists in practice." There
are to-day, here in these United States, engaged in doing ele-
mentary and secondary work in our parochial schools, men and
women capable of utilizing any " philosophical, comprehensive
scheme of education ' the philosophers may give to the world.
The teachers as a whole recognize the need of methods
of teaching, and they value what the study of pedagogics
brings to them ; but no worker in this great broad world
needs the encouragement and stimulus to be obtained from
fellow-workers more than the capable, conscientious, enthu-
siastic teacher. Her ideals are so high that she never reaches
them ; the consciousness of the importance of her work often
makes her falter.

There is, without doubt, a wide-spread interest in education,
not only in our own country but throughout the greater part of
the world. Wherever this interest flags or has not been aroused,
there we find people lacking in love for their fellows, people
leading selfish lives. This almost total separation of the higher
schools of learning from the lower is the outgrowth of a con-
dition of things that does not exist in this country, or of a
time when, as Lamartine says, " The head of society was in the
sunshine and the feet in the shadow.'*

No claim is made that normal schools, method classes, or
training departments are new in the educational work of the
church. The pedagogical work begun by the- great orders and
societies, and continued to the present day, needs no defence,
nor even mention, to prove existence. The good work done by
all these able teachers is an evidence of what strong work can
be done in all departments. No one part of our educational
system can attain its greatest power alone. The one needs
the other. The universities need all below as feeders and ma-
terial for proper study, and all below need the higher educa-
tional institutions for instruction, guidance, and inspiration.
All are parts of an undivided whole that must from the very
nature of things be a unit for harmonious development and to
attain its greatest excellence.

256 AMONG THE ORANGE LILIES. [Nov.-,

' AMONG THE ORANGE LILIES.

BY REV. WALTER ELLIOTT.

RANGEISM has given our Canadian cousins a bad
name. As a matter of fact the mass of Cana-
dian Protestants are fair-minded people, and will
give a Catholic lecturer a fair hearing. Orange
lodges are, indeed, numerous in Ontario, but it
is only in particular localities that they are venomous, being
used mostly for social purposes. Such was the estimate we
received from several well-informed priests of the province,
and on testing the matter by non-Catholic missions we have
found them right.

Our desire to experiment in this interesting part of the
missionary field found an opportunity in the presidential can-
vass this year, the excitement of which will long be remem-
bered. We were glad to serve the zeal of Canadian priests
who invited us into their parishes, fearing that our efforts in
" the States ' (those at least now ready for the Apostolate)
would be hurt by the fiery struggles of the- political campaign.
Allow me, however, to confess a sincere regret at not being
present during this ever-memorable contest, and at being de-
prived of the pleasure of voting. One of the hardships of the
missionary is that he can seldom be at home on election day.
But the compensation, if wholly spiritual, was generous and
ample. Our audiences at Thorold, Ontario, were half non-
Catholics, and sometimes more than half, the hall seating not
quite four hundred persons, and it was filled every night but
one.

We got good help from the local paper, both before and
after the mission. Some days before we opened the editor
called and asked an interview, which was gladly given. It
filled a column and a half of the next issue, and gave us and
our cause a good introduction to several hundred of these seri-
ous-minded people, telling what our object was and how we
felt towards our separated brethren. The very friendly terms
on which the pastor, Father T. J. Sullivan, always kept with
the editor was thus a practical aid to the mission. We also
secured a good report of our closing lecture. Sometimes we

1896.] AMONG THE ORANGE LILIES. 257

lament the errors of the Press, and rightly ; but an interview
and a report and a " puff ' and a personal communication are
all modern means of imparting the grace of faith to non-Catho-
lics and infidels.

Another aid was the social equality of the Catholics and
Protestants in this town. This is sometimes a hurt to reli-
gion, as when the true faith is weak, but an apostolic aid
when Catholicity is sturdy, -as is the case in Thorold. Our
people made positive efforts to bring their friends to the meet-
ings, and succeeded, because they were on terms of equality
with that intelligent class which alone takes an interest in
a fair argument on religious questions. The natural relation
between truth and error is that truth is on the aggressive and
error on the defensive much rather is this the supernatural
relation. Every help to a good life is present in this town,
and therefore every help to a successful apostolate : a beauti-
ful church, a fine house and school, and a flourishing state of
practical virtue in priest and people.

All this was put to use in getting a good attendance in this
staid old town. We found ourselves among a non-Catholic
people who, though church-goers, are not positively curious about
religion. In Canada, furthermore, religious sentiment is stiffer
than in the States, and yields less easily to curiosity, or to
personal kindliness. The people are not exactly slower than on
our side of the line, once they begin to move ; but this is not
so soon as with Americans. The English-speaking Canadian is
a graver character than his cousin, takes more for granted in
his own favor, and is averse to impulse a solid race of men
and women, and in religion solidly bigoted. So that we were
glad of a good attendance of them, and knew that our Catho-
lic people had done their duty to secure it.

It is like carrying the war into Africa to give non-Catholic
missions in Ontario, the nursery of the A.-P.-A.-ism across the
border. Orangeism is strong and of course squarely anti-
Catholic, and in some places aggressive. But so is consistent Pro-
testantism anywhere, as the name implies. And as Protestantism
is seldom consistent, so is Orangeism in the Dominion seldom as
venomous against the church as it ought to be, considering its
avowed objects. Among our auditors we nightly had some
Orangemen. " I counted," said a young and zealous Catholic
to us, " twenty-four men at one meeting who are known to be
bigots, and they seemed entertained and pleased." In fact
personal invitation to a free lecture is hard to refuse when it
VOL. LXIV. 17

258 AMONG THE ORANGE LILIES. [Nov.,

comes from a respectable source. Now, for instance, a promi-
nent business man, a zealous Catholic, kept a supply of books
(Father Searle's Plain Facts) on his office table, and offered
them to Protestant callers and talked up the lectures very free-
ly. It is no unusual thing for zealous Protestants to do this
during their revivals, and it is a way which is pretty sure to
gather an audience.

Every lecture without exception was attended by a young
student for the Methodist ministry, accompanied by his brother,
-whether in peaceful or warlike mood we have no means of
knowing ; but the Protestant ministers of the town totally
ignored us. And not nearly enough of women were present,
more than three-fifths of the non-Catholics being men, and they
mostly young. All the better for them ; but we would have
been glad to see more Protestant women present. But they
are very commonly afraid of becoming unsettled in religious
belief, more so than the men, because generally they are more
earnest. Also, reasoning and argumentation have little place in
female Protestantism.. But what women did come to the
lectures were powerfully affected, as some of them managed to
let us know. If we could have got them to the Catholic mis-
sion which went before the non-Catholic one, our ground would
have been well cleared for us. But only a few non-Catholics
attended at the church, though the whole town was edified at
the attendance at the five o'clock Mass. Would it have been
better to begin with the public-hall lectures instead of the
Catholic mission ? Perhaps so. Yet the Catholic mission gave
our own people a decided increase of zeal for souls, and in that
respect (a very important matter in this place) aided the meet-
ings in the hall.

These last were greatly enjoyed by the Catholics, upon whom
a permanent effect was produced, especially a more energetic
interest in the salvation of their separated brethren. We are
apt to forget that it is necessary to bring the Catholic Church
out into the open for the sake of its own members, for it is a
public claimant for universal spiritual allegiance, and must be
exhibited as such at certain intervals or suffer in all its influ-
ence. The faithful themselves profit greatly by this develop-
ment of the missionary vocation of the church. This parish is
well equipped, materially and personally, for the forward move
which its pastor has thus started. It was a privilege to co-
operate with him.

The lectures occasioned much talk. Protestants admitted to

1896.] AMONG THE ORANGE LILIES. 259

Catholic friends that they had held wrong views about us, and
that they now could study the church from an altogether dif-
ferent stand-point. They were much surprised that we did not
attack them, because, as we think, they were conscious of de-
serving attack. But after all, Canadian Protestants are substan-
tially the same as American ones : kindly disposed at bot-
tom, but woefully deceived about Catholic matters. Was it
not kindly in our Protestant quartette to sing for us? and those
hard-headed church members to attend our meetings nightly ?
This class came even the night of the town's annual fair, when
our numbers were lowest, thus showing a strong desire to under-
stand Catholicity. What more inviting field can bishops, priests,
and people have ? Doubtless these brethren of ours are very
far from us ; they are still set in their cold and hungry religion.
But yet they can be made to listen to us, and we confidently
look for some conversions from this mission. Was it not an
encouragement that two priests who sat on the platform during
several of the lectures were converts, as well as the organist
who conducted the singing? and some other converts, men and
women of character, were with us every evening.

We should be content to begin with whatever kind of non-
Catholics will consent to listen to us ; but when we know the
admirable natural qualities of these people we should be glad
even to spend our whole lives in removing obstacles to the
faith. Let us cut away the tangled underbrush and drain the
swamp, that a future generation may plough and plant a fruit-
ful field. By drawing off from these honest souls the preju-
dice and delusion which overspreads them and hinders the
truth of Christ from reaching them, we shall do what must be
done before they can be converted.

The churches here, as in the States, are mainly Methodist,
Baptist, Presbyterian, and Church of England, the latter not
yet having changed its name to the Protestant Episcopal Church
of the Dominion of Canada. Episcopalianism must be strongly
national, non-universal, since it so instinctively localizes itself,
even keeping its English localism of name and nature in so
independent a nation as this. A curious name The Church of
England of the Dominion of Canada !

Our lectures were on the Divinity of Christ, the Authentic-
ity and Inspiration of Scripture, Intemperance, Confession, the
Real Presence, the Intercession of the Saints, Purgatory, and
" Why I am a Catholic " the last-named lecture and that on
the Bible giving opportunity to explain the church's right to

260 AMONG THE ORANGE LILIES. [Nov.

teach. Our leaflets were What Catholics do not Believe, The
Senators of Sherbourne (rule of faith), The Gospel Door of Mercy
(sacrament of penance), The Real Presence, and Prayers for the
Dead. Three hundred copies of Father Searle's new book,
Plain Facts for Fair Minds, were placed in the hands of the
people of Thorold over two hundred of these with Protestants.
The pastor attended carefully to this part of the mission, and
made sure of a literary apostolate in this town.

The grand total of all expenses for the non-Catholic mis-
sion was less than $30.

The question box, as usual, was a great attraction. It was
well patronized ; though a number of the questions were placed
in the box by a Catholic voicing the difficulties of his Protes-
tant friends in conversation. I noticed that but a single ques-
tion out of the large number received was not spelled right \
and this is better than we can testify of any mission given by
us in the States. One question drew from us a warm invita-
tion : " Reverend Sir : Your talks have made me feel sorry for
having led a sinful life. Is there any comfort in your church
for a man who is heart-broken with worldly cares, business
troubles, etc.? ' This suggests the availability of lectures on
the moral topics suited to such difficulties. The following
question is evidence of dark ignorance, yet common enough
among our separated brethren. I answered that I was a poor
man, but I would raise $1,000 and give it to the questioner if
he could find his quotation in any Catholic catechism.

"How does the teaching of the Roman Catholic Catechism,
that ' Catholics are not bound to keep faith with heretics "
(Protestants), correspond with that passage of Ephesians iv. 25 :
' Wherefore put away lying, speak every man truth with his
neighbor; for we are members one of another?'

One question pleased us greatly : " Who founded the order

of Paulists ? ' In answering we did not brag, but we said
some true and good things about Father Hecker and his asso-
ciates.

These missions to non-Catholics in the diocese of Toronto
were most heartily approved by Archbishop Walsh, whose
affection for our separated brethren and whose zeal for their
conversion are well known in all Canada.

HOWEVER much we may object to some of the
themes of Balzac's " Com6die Humaine," and how-
ever questionable his method of treatment of his
subjects at times, we are forced to acknowledge
his masterly skill in delineation and his wonderful
industry in the filling-in of his backgrounds. We do not rise from
the perusal of any of his works with the same conviction as we
feel from a perusal of some of his contemptible imitators. We
do not conclude that he has laid open the sores of humanity
with the base desire of indulging a personal appetite for the
morbid and the pruriency of a ghoulish sort of clientele whose
favorite literary diet is garbage and whose instincts are satyric.
Some of Balzac's works have a decidedly elevating tendency,
and perhaps the best of this unobjectionable lot is the one
which he has called Le Cure' de Village. This is now given
to us in a pleasing English dress by the Dent Publishing
Company.* The translation is the work of Ellen Marriage, and
the three fine mezzotints which embellish it are the production
of W. Bouchet. Mr. George Saintsbury writes a preface to the
edition.

Although the title of the book might naturally lead one
to think that its principal figure was the village cure", such
is not the case. This cure, Father Bonnet, is indeed drawn
with a fidelity and a tenderness of appreciation which no writer
of any school could excel ; and it is but just to Balzac to
observe that his views on the doctrine and spirit of the Catho-
lic faith, as presented in this commanding novel, are in the
main just as well as sympathetic. Yet in the presentation of
the character of the central figure, Ve"ronique de Graslin, he
shocks us by picturing a woman sound in faith and pious in
practice carrying on, under the veil of devotion and beneficence,
a sinful intrigue and luring an unhappy victim of her charms

* H. De Balzac. The Country Parson (Le Cure de I Wage). Translated Dy Ellen Mar-
riage. With a preface by George Saintsbury. London : J. M. Dent &Co.; New York : The
Macmillan Company.

262 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov.,

to murder and the death penalty. The life of remorse which
.is her retribution, and the final public reparation she makes,
remind one forcibly of the tragedy of The Scarlet Letter.
Some of the chapters are strikingly impressive. Yet when all
is finished, we cannot escape the conclusion that the French
conception of tragic art is false and strained. In order to pro-
duce its effects the limits of nature and ordinary experience
have to be left behind, and the theory of a sublime repentance
can only be reached by means of a premise of sinfulness and
hypocrisy which outrages the truth of nature. This style of
literary architecture is to blame for the grotesque failures of
Balzac's school. Its culmination was witnessed in one of the
scenes of Zola's Rome, so utterly outrageous in its rococo
tragedy as to provoke mirth and ridicule rather than pity or
tears.

Another notable characteristic of the realistic method is
strongly evident in Le Cure' de Village. The detail is filled in
with a minuteness that in lesser quantity would be admirable.
But it embraces, as it is unfolded, such a variety of topics-
physiographic, philosophic, theoretic, speculative, economic, and
didactic as to suggest a cosmogony rather than a novel. The
reader might well be excused if at times he thought he was
swallowing an encyclopaedia rather than a mere work of fiction ;
and the average adult who has any business to attend to would
either fling the book away in despair or skip three-fourths of
it. So much for the original realistic school of fiction.

Our readers are familiar with the literary skill of Walter
Lecky, and they will be glad to hear he has had published as
a novel the biography of Mr. Billy Buttons, the simple-hearted
hero of several of the " Adirondack Sketches' which appeared
some time back in the pages of this magazine. The author has
spent much time in the tonic air of the mountain region in
which his scene is laid, and it will easily be seen that he has
not lived there an indifferent observer. His sympathies are
wide, and in the ingenuous people who inhabit the hills he has
found several types of human nature which make the region
lovable. He has, in addition to a crisp and keen literary style,
an eye for the humorous side of life which finds full expres-
sion in some of the chapters of this work, especially in that
which depicts "The Coming of Hiram Jones." Another agree-
able feature of his mode is the entire absence of that nauseat-
ing personal intrusion which so often marks the failure of this

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 263

literary cycle to secure a hold either upon the present or the
future. So, too, his work never sags through a resort to the
scene-painter's brush ; a deft touch or two thrown in as an in-
dispensable incidental is the means the author chiefly relies on
to call up his locality vividly to the reader's mental vision.
We are glad to note that the volume has been produced in
worthy style, handsomely bound, by the Messrs. Benziger one
of the first of a new series of books by American Catholic
writers.

Of the same series is Mr. M. F. Egan's new novel, The
Vocation of Edward Conway. It is one of the religious order
of novels, and, despite the outcry against " conversion ' stones
in short form, is a carefully elaborated conversion story. It
may not have been the author's purpose to show that such
stories can be made tolerable, but if so he has " builded wiser
than he knew," for he has given us a conversion story that is
attractive enough for any one who cares more for a little mild
satire over the world and its ways than for the most deadly
earnest in the chronicle of conversion. The story is ingenious
in its structural lines, the keystone being the remorse of a man
(Colonel Carton) over the death of his quondam friend, Major
Conway, as he honestly believes, by his (Carton's) hand, as the
result of a quarrel over the breaking off of an engagement
between the son and daughter of these respective principals.
Conway is not killed, but escapes in a way suggestive entirely
of the deus ex machina ; and the remorse of the supposed
homicide, like that of Falkland in Caleb Williams, is one of the
strong elements of the story. The depictions of the various
religious conflicts, wordy and internal, through which the chief
persons of the drama pass, are also indicative of experience
and observation. As a picture of the intellectual level of ordi-
nary American life to-day, in the stratum of the well-to-do and
pretentious, it is not flattering. There is a good deal of gentle
satire in many parts of the book ; there is a good deal more
suggested. We are left under the impression that the author
did not say all he intended.

But, as it is, the story of The Vocation of Edward Conway*
will be read by many with much pleasure, as it reflects so
many of the elements that make up the sum of the life of to-
day, and is the work of a man who has become a favorite with
most Catholic readers.

* Mr. Billy Buttons. By Walter Lecky. The Vocation of Edward Conway. By Mau-
rice F. Egan. New York : Benziger Brothers. . ,

264 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov.,

A volume of sermons by Most Rev. Dr. Hedley, Bishop of
Newport, under the title of The Christian Inheritance* causes
us to view the ever-increasing output of homiletic literature
with less apprehension than we might under other circumstances
entertain. The sermons are perfect models of religious dis-
courses, and the language in which the fine thoughts are
clothed touches the high-water mark of classical English. Al-
most the whole range of the Christian life for ordinary people
is treated of in these admirable discourses.

Messrs. Benziger have conferred a substantial benefit upon
the Catholic public by the issue of a fine volume of Goffine's
Devout Instructions,^ on superfine paper and with some plates of
an unusually choice character, at a very low price. These In-
structions are ushered in with a preface of a highly commenda-
tory description by his Eminence Cardinal Gibbons. The work
is a family treasure, such as every Catholic household indeed
might well covet to possess.

Mr. Justin McCarthy has contributed to the " Public Men In-
ternational Series " a brief biography of Pope Leo XIII.J I n a
work of two hundred and fifty pages it is difficult to do justice
to a life so full as that of the present illustrious Pontiff, yet
in the hands of so judicious a condenser as the writer all that
could be made of the subject within such a compass has been
accomplished. The narrative does not aim at being picturesque,
nor is there any striving after strong antithesis. It is sober,
in good taste, and in nothing exaggerates or minimizes unduly.
It partakes in parts more of the nature of a history of contem-
poraneous events than a biographical examination. It will prove,
most certainly, an invaluable book of reference.

A fresh volume of essays on education by the lamented
Brother Azarias comes to remind us how great has been the
loss to the cause of Christian culture by the death of that
gifted teacher. These essays show how deeply he had pene-
trated into the lore of the past in his quest of light on ancient
methods of pedagogy. He takes us back into the period of
Charlemagne, and earlier, in tracing up the beginnings of me-

* The Christian Inheritance. By Dr. Hedley, Bishop of Newport. London : Burns &
Gates ; New York : Benziger Brothers.

t Goffine's Devout Instructions on the Epistles and Gospels for the Sundays and Holidays.
New York, Cincinnati, Chicago : Benziger Brothers.

% Pope Leo XIII. By Justin McCarthy. New York : Frederick Warne & Co.

Essays Educational. By Brother Azarias. Chicago : D. H. McBride & Co.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 265

diaeval culture, and gives us much valuable and curious matter
on the origin of the Palatine Schools, those curious institutions
which followed the king's court from place to place, training
the youth of the nobility in all gentle arts as they went along.
Others of the essays are devoted to a study of university life
in the middle ages, the primary schools of that period, the
methods of simultaneous teaching, the origin of the normal
school, and other kindred topics. It will be seen, on an exa-
mination of this valuable work, how thorough was the author's
own method of investigation, and with what careful labor he
traced the progress of educational work from the very begin-
ning of modern Europe down to his own time.

The demand for the reproductions of the English classics
must be brisk, since the supply is beginning to be somewhat
embarrassing in bulk. In addition to those noted in last month's
issue, from the Longmans firm, we have now to chronicle a
fresh batch from the American Book Company. They include
several standard favorites, such as Robinson Crusoe (Kate Stevens),
Tennyson's Princess, Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, Pope's
Homer's Iliad, and Fifty Famous Stories Retold. The latter is an
especially happy book for children, as it contains some nicely
illustrated versions of the imperishable favorites, such as " Bruce
and the Spider," " King Alfred and the Burnt Cakes," the
" Three Hundred of Rome," and others of equal notoriety, but
a couple of score more not quite so accessible but of equal
merit as folk-lore romances. The introductions and annotations
in The Princess, the Iliad, and Franklin, although anonymous,
are characterized by somewhat better taste and greater erudi-
tion than some of the more pretentious prologues and com-
mentaries which we have had put before us in other editions
of English school-books. As far as typography and suitability
of binding are concerned, these handy volumes are all that
could be desired.

Cheerful Philosophy for Thoughtful Invalids, by William Hora-
tio Clarke, is a little tract of the Universalist school. There is
no philosopher who can cheerfully endure the toothache, and
there is no comfort for those who are really in pain or hopelessly
invalided but the balm which the Holy Spirit alone can lay
upon our bruises. Pious generalities and artificially cheerful
monitions are of little avail when the one sustaining solace of
the Christian soul the consciousness of suffering borne as a

266 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov.,

trial of the human spirit with profound resignation to the divine
behests is absent. We have no doubt that the author's claim
for this brochure, that it has the support of clergymen, physicians,
and philanthropists, is quite true ; but those who commend are
not invalids themselves, we may reasonably conclude, and know
not what it is to be put off with bland sayings when the de-
spairing heart is hungering and thirsting for one ray of blessed
assurance that all this human struggle has not been in vain.
There is only one source whence that consoling panacea can
come, and this is the church which is the handmaiden of
Christ.

The requirements of the modern system of intermediate edu-
cation in the matter of history necessitate panoramic views
rather than philosophic study. The question whether or not
any permanent good is effected by this superficial method is
not ripe for settlement yet ; but it cannot be that old ideas of
education, so radically subversive of the acquisition of real
knowledge, can much longer survive. While we await the day
of reformation, however, it is good to note an advance in the
method of preparation of historical studies in the same direc-
tion which has been so successful in Green's 'Short History .of
the English People. We have to hand a useful hand-book of
ancient Roman history* constructed somewhat on that excel-
lent model, by two Fellows of Oxford, Messrs. W. W. How
and H. D. Leigh, M.A. If we compare this pithy work with
one of the old text-books of our less practical period, we shall
readily perceive what a mass of useless encumbrance has been
got rid of, and how usefully succinctness has been substituted
for tedious iteration and prolixity. This book is something less
than a detailed history and a good deal more than a hasty out-
line. It is a vivid, graphic, and clear-cut survey of the great
events which made the rough-hewing of our modern civilization
and laid the foundations of world-wide law. The book is full
of fine illustrations, and enjoys the advantage of a complete
index.

Hitherto Father Finn has written chiefly for boys ; his latest
book, Ada Merton^ is better adapted for young people of the
other sex. It is a story full of pathos, and yet its style is such

* A History of Rome, to the Death of Ccesar. By W. W. How, M.A., Fellow and Lec-
turer at Merton College, Oxford, and H. D. Leigh, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Corpus Christi
College, Oxford. London, New York, and Bombay : Longmans, Green & Co.

f Ada Merton. By Francis J. Finn, S.J. St. Louis, Mo.: B. Herder.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 267

that it does the mind good to read it rather than to plunge
it into an abyss of sadness, as the story of little Nell, for in-
stance, is calculated to do. Father Finn possesses the subtle
power of going straight to the youthful heart without any ap-
parent effort ; his art is skilfully concealed under the mask of
simplicity. The motive of his story in this latest work is the
too frequent one of degenerate Catholic parents, and the love
of a sweet child whom Heaven in pity removes early in life
from their evil influence. The tragedy which in the end over-
whelms them the ruin of the father, the insanity of the mother
-is powerfully painted in these simple but most life-like pages.
It will be little wonder if this book prove to be the most suc-
cessful of the many that Father Finn has already given to the
juvenile Catholic world.

A rare example of fine book-making is seen in a work
published by Messrs. McGowan & Young, of Portland, Maine,
under the title of The Golden Chaplet of Prayer. The binding
is white and gold, in vellum ; the ornamental bordering and
letter-press are in different colors and shades ; and the numer-
ous choice engravings which are interspersed are also admirable
examples of the printer's art. On each page is a favorite
prayer or hymn, the whole forming a collection suitable for
every state and incident of life. The book is in every sense a
fine work of art.

I. STUDIES IN CHURCH HISTORY.*

English Literature is not well furnished with historical
works of a high class and which are also impartial and trust-
worthy. Some which are classical in respect to style are per-
vaded by infidel sentiments, or if not totally anti-Christian, are
yet to a greater or lesser degree anti-Catholic and full of mis-
representations. The knowledge of history among the educated
class who read chiefly English books has, therefore, been par-
tial and imperfect, and this is not only true in respect to
Christian nations, but in regard to universal history. We have
learned from our childhood up only certain chapters, and
those in great part incorrectly. The present epoch is especial-
ly remarkable for a great and universal reformation in the
domain of history. English writers have followed in the wake

* Studies in Church History. By Rev. Reuben Parsons, D.D. New York and Cincin-
nati : Fr. Pustet & Co. Vols. I., II., and III. 1896.

268 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov.,

of the scholars of the Continent, and have begun to enrich our
language with translations and original works.

The history of Christendom in its ecclesiastical aspects has
suffered more than any other department. And this is espe-
cially true of the history of the Papacy. The popes have been
the object of a persistent and virulent hostility, which has no
parallel and in a great measure seems unaccountable. For three
centuries the monsters of cruelty who wielded imperial power
in Rome, and the other emperors also, who were comparative-
ly virtuous rulers, persecuted them to the death. These were
pagan idolaters, and could give a reason for their hostility.
But after them came emperors who were nominal Christians,
but were nevertheless heretics and were animated by an equally
fierce hostility against the Catholic Faith and the popes who
were its chief champions. Emperors and kings who were pro-
fessed Catholics, but still enemies to all independent and
superior authority in the Catholic Church and the Papacy,
continued the warfare against the popes down to the times of
Louis XIV., Joseph II., Napoleon and Victor Emmanuel. The
warfare of the pen has been as fierce as that of the sword.
Heathen philosophers, heretics, and modern infidels have ex-
hausted the resources of calumny, sophistry, and rhetorical
vituperation. What is worse, children of the church, Italians,
Romans, some of them ecclesiastics and prelates, have turned
their parricidal stilettos against the Holy Father, in the spirit
of Judas betraying his Lord to Caiphas.

The author of the Philosophoumena began it with his libels
on Popes Zephyrinus and Callistus, and his venomous brood
have continued to lie in wait on the path of successive popes
from that time to this.

It is from these Italian scavengers that the filth has been
derived which has run in foul, death-breeding rivulets down the
streams of European history. The same tropical climate which
produces the richest vegetation, the most brilliant flowers, the
most luscious fruits, the birds of variegated plumage, generates
the most subtle and violent poisons, the deadliest scorpions
and serpents, the fiercest wild beasts. Italy is the tropical
climate of Catholicism and Christian civilization. It has pro-
duced every kind and degree of sanctity, of intellectual culture,
of art, of everything that is beautiful. That which in its
ripeness is the most fragrant and delicious, is the most odious
in its rottenness.

Moral nightshade and cobras of wickedness have sprung

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 269

out of the same soil where the choicest growth of virtue has
flourished, and the most consummate forms of intellectual and
spiritual beauty have come to perfection.

Rome and Italy have never appreciated the honor and
privilege of possessing the See of St. Peter. They have given
more trouble to the Popes than any other portion of their
spiritual domain. The Popes have had perpetual struggles
with princes and republics trying to steal parts of their
temporal principality ; with cardinals in opposition, with con-
spirators and rebels, treacherous sycophants and false friends
in their own households. After their death, their persons and
their reputation have been a target for the envenomed shafts
of malicious, unscrupulous men of letters, and have been treated
metaphorically in the same manner that the body of the
apostolic Pope Formosus was literally outraged by Stephen VII.

Since the time when Clement V. transferred his residence
to Avignon, alienation from the Roman See has prevailed to a
considerable extent in the episcopate, and the writers of the
extreme Gallican party, which skirted dangerously near the
border-line of schism and heresy, particularly Fleury, have
been ready to represent the popes in an unfavorable light,
whenever they could find a plausible reason. Even the most
thoroughgoing champions of the Papacy, like Baronius, have
often been duped into admitting the truth of false and calum-
nious charges, and these have become so embedded in current
history that it has been difficult to get them out.

Of course, all the enemies of the Catholic Church and of
Christianity have adopted and spread abroad all the indict-
ments against the Papacy and popes which they have been
able to gather up, garnished with their peculiar rhetoric of
vituperation.

Nevertheless, there have been exceptions, and several writers
have freed themselves from the grosser prejudices of the mass
of their contemporaries, and have done a certain measure of
justice to the Roman Church and the great popes of the past
ages. The chaste and severe Muse of History has touched
with the spear of Ithuriel the demon of falsehood squat like a
toad at the ear of an ignorant and unthinking public. The
Catholic cause has everything to gain from the critical and im-
partial investigations and disclosures of history. There is a
lack, as I have already said, of Catholic historical works in the
English language not as yet fully supplied. This is notably the
case with histories of the popes. We have good lives of sev-

2;o TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov.,

eral. Gregory the Great, Gregory the Seventh, Innocent III.,
Pius VII., Pius IX., Leo XIII., are quite well-known characters
to well-read Catholics, and to persons of literary culture in
general. But the history of the whole illustrious line, extend-
ing like a series of stately columns all down the vista of the
early, middle, and modern periods, is almost unknown, or
known but in a dim and obscure manner.

The Lives of the Popes, by Artaud de Montor, although
complete and accurate, is concise and dull, the translation is
inferior, and the illustrations are in a very poor style of art.
Probably it has had very few readers. There are several excel-
lent ecclesiastical histories, translated and original, suitable for
students.

What is most wanting is an abundance of popular historical
literature, instructive and attractive for the great mass of the
intelligent reading public.

Notwithstanding the great improvement in the treatment of
history and the increase in the number of writers and works
which are conscientious, thorough, and impartial, the baser sort
of purveyors in literature, whose motives are the gain of a tinsel
reputation or of money, still continue to practise their trade.
I have lately read a libel on the popes of the fifteenth century
from the pen of a conspicuous literary man, in the pages of a
respectable magazine, which for its unspeakable vulgarity is not
surpassed by anything from the cloaca maxima of the fanatics
of the sixteenth century. I will not defile my page by quot-
ing it. And it would be as useless to argue or remonstrate
with a Bashi Bazouk as with any such literary ruffian. The
only way to contend with the apostolate of the Satanic press
is by the apostolate of the Christian and Catholic press. We
must appeal to the sincere, the honest, the lovers of truth and
morality, and create a sound public opinion which cannot be
duped by sophistry and falsehood, leaving the dealers in gar-
bage to make what they can from those who desire to be pro-
vided with that commodity.

Dr. Parsons has labored with great industry in his task of
reading and writing in the field of ecclesiastical history. At the
time of our present writing he has published three large volumes,
and has a fourth in press. He has taken up a series of salient
events and personages, from the first age of Christianity to our
own times, giving an epitome of the history of each one from
the best and most trustworthy authors. The work has been
in general well done, and in a readable style. Some of the

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 271

studies are among the best we have ever met with, and among
these we may specify those on the election of Urban VI., the
Massacre of St. Bartholomew's Day, and the Conversion of
Henry IV.

It is rather singular that in his notice of authors who have
vindicated the middle ages Dr. Parsons has omitted all men-
tion of Maitland, whose Dark Ages has done more to dissipate
the ignorant prejudices once so prevalent than any other book
in the English language.

In chapter viii. of volume ii. Dr. Parsons says : " That the
life of Pope John XII. was abominable seems certain from the
concordant testimony of the olden writers." Later on he says :
" We must remember, however, that the continuator^ upon whom
we principally rely for information, was thoroughly devoted to
the Emperor Otho and to the intruder Leo. His testimony,
therefore, is not above suspicion. Sigebert wrote more than a
century after the death of John XII., and probably derived
much of his knowledge from the Chronicle of Luitprand and its
Appendix." It would have been more prudent, therefore, to avoid
a positive and categorical judgment on John XII. Father
Brunengo, in his excellent work / Destini de Roma, does not
give credence to the disgraceful accusations against this pope,
and expresses the opinion that the worst which can be histori-
cally proved against him is : that his character and spirit were
more those of a secular prince than of a pontiff.

Dr. Parsons repeats the statement common to ecclesiastical
historians, that Hosius of Cordova fell into the Arian heresy in
his old age. This has been, however, recently disputed and
denied as an Arian fable.

The story of a shameful compact between Vigilius, who was
afterwards pope, and the infamous Empress Theodora, and of
their mutual conspiracy against Pope Silverius, has been, in
what seems to be a conclusive manner, refuted by Father Aloy-
sio Vincenzi. Here again, Dr. Parson^, who is apparently un-
acquainted with Father Vincenzi's works, repeats the common
statement of historians.

Dr. Parsons has made a very elaborate and ingenious effort
to vindicate the character of Alexander VI. Every Catholic
would rejoice if this could be done successfully. The most
atrocious charges against this pontiff are no doubt proved to
be calumnious, as has been frequently done by previous writers.
Nevertheless, we are obliged to admit that the attempt to re-
habilitate his moral character, even during his cardi'nalate and

272 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Nov..

pontificate, is a failure. The authority of Cardinal Hergen-
rother and Pastor seems to be decisive on this point, and their
judgment is based on evidence which cannot be evaded.

It is to be hoped that other competent writers will follow
the good example of Dr. Parsons. There are other extensive
fields of history to be cultivated, and it is especially desirable
to write up the history of the Roman Church and of the popes
in English for the generality of intelligent readers. Father
Brunengo has fulfilled this task in an admirable manner in the
Italian language, in his historical works, / Destini de Roma and
I Primi Papi-Re. Similar works are needed in English, translated
or original. There are some portions of the history, obscured
by the passions, the partialities, the polemical aims and inter-
ests of eager partisans oh all sides. These need to be cleared
up by critical investigation, so far as the data can be found.
It would be wrong as well as futile to carry on this investiga-
tion with a preconceived purpose of vindicating and eulogizing
the popes and prelates and casting a roseate hue over all
things. The truth must be sought for and told, be it to the
praise or dispraise of men, as it is in the sacred history, and
we must carefully avoid the fallacy of identifying the Catholic
cause with the private and personal character of the rulers and
members of the church.

Dr. Parsons has produced a most valuable and interesting
work, and it is to be hoped that the sale of it will be such as
to encourage authors and publishers to edit similar publica-
tions. Every library should possess at least one copy, and
every priest who can afford the price should make a point of
purchasing these volumes. It will be especially valuable to
those who are engaged in preaching or lecturing to non-
Catholics as furnishing replies to questions and objections
drawn from topics of ecclesiastical history.

. t

2. THE SCIENCE OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE.*

So many works on the Exercises of St. Ignatius have been
published within quite a recent period those, for example, of
Father (afterwards archbishop) Porter, Father John Morris, and
Father Dignam that the question arises on opening this new
volume, by Father Clare, what room is there for it ? An in-
spection, however, of the work will give a satisfactory answer.

* The Science of the Spiritual Life according to the Spiritual Exercises. By James
Clare, S. J. New York : Benziger Bros. ; London and Leamington : Art and Book Company

1896.] NEW BOOKS. 273

The volumes referred to above although based on the Exer-
cises and leading to a knowledge of them are not, and are
not intended to give the readers the Exercises in their integrity.
Father Clare's volume, however, includes this within its scope,
and is, so far as is known, the first work in English which em-
braces the complete Exercises, with all the rules and addi-
tions, along with suitable developments and explanations. It
therefore opens out for English readers a way to the know-
ledge of a work which may without exaggeration be said to
have been more influential for good than any other work pub-
lished for three centuries. For out of the Exercises grew, and
still grows, the Society of Jesus, and to these Exercises what
the society has done and is still doing is to be attributed. So
much was this the case that it is related of St. Ignatius that
he thought of writing no rule for the members of the society,
believing that all that would be required would be effected by
the Exercises properly made. And although a rule was
found to be necessary, that rule is itself but the outcome of
the Exercises.

Father Clare's work, while embracing this complete presen-
tation of the Exercises, is not restricted to it, but includes
suitable and appropriate meditations on our Lord's life after
the manner of meditation books in general. The present
volume represents the outcome of a long life devoted to the
service of souls, and cannot but be of service to those who
are striving to lead a spiritual life.

NEW BOOKS.

BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York, Cincinnati, Chicago :

A Woman of Fortune. By Christian Reid. Ethelred Preston; or, the
Adventures of a Newcomer. By Rev. Francis J. Finn, S.J. The Straw-
Cutter's Daughter, and Seven Stories. By Lady Georgiana Fullerton.
Catholic Home Annual, 1897.
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, New York and London :

Gaston de Latour. An unfinished romance. By Walter Pater. Prepared
for the press by Charles L. Shadwell. The Gospel for an Age of Doubt.
By Henry Van Dyke, D.D. European Architecture : A Historical Study.
By Russell Sturgis, A.M., Ph.D., F.A.I. A.
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & Co., Boston and New York :

Christianity and Social Proble?ns. By Lyman Abbott. 7he Children's

Crusade. By George Zabriskie Gray.
HAPPY HOME PUBLISHING Co., Philadelphia:

A Few Events in the Life of Our Divine Lord. Briefly Told for Children.

By a Member of the League of the Sacred Heart.
BURNS & GATES, London:

First Communion. Edited by Father Thurston, S.J.

VOL. LXIV. 18

FROM the detailed reports of the proceedings
of the Irish Convention, it is evident that much
more good must flow from the- proceedings than
might have been expected if one were to be led by the mere
telegraphic summaries. The gathering was undoubtedly the
most remarkable one ever witnessed, and its deliberations were
conducted with all the dignity of a national parliament. The
resolutions adopted embody, most unquestionably, the legiti-
mate will of the Irish nation. It will not avail to neutralize
these momentous facts to say that the leaders of two groups
of irreconcilables held aloof. They had been invited in all
sincerity to appear and take part in the national council, but
neither Mr. John Redmond nor Mr. T. M. Healy could furnish
any plausible reason for their attitude of sulk. To put forward
the pretence that the convention was got together in the inter-
est of Mr. John Dillon was a transparent artifice. The idea of
the convention did not originate with Mr. Dillon, but with the
Archbishop of Toronto, and it was attended by Irishmen from
all parts of the world irrespective of any personal leanings.
Moreover, at the very outset Mr. Dillon publicly put himself at
the disposal of the country by offering to retire from the chair-
manship of the Irish party, and serve in the ranks under
any leader whom the party and the people might approve.
But this renunciation of his position would not satisfy either
Mr. Healy or Mr. Redmond.

It cannot be forgotten that when these gentlemen thus ob-
trude their personality between the country and its piteous cry
for unity in the political ranks, neither of them ever spent
one hour in prison for the sake 'of Ireland, but that, on the
contrary, each of them owes everything he enjoys in his pro-
fession or the political world to the opportunities which the
Irish political struggle gave him. On the other hand, the chief
objects of their present animosity in the majority section of
the Irish party are men who have again and again suffered
imprisonment, even to the deadly detriment of their physical
constitutions, for the Irish cause.

1896.] EDITORIAL NOTES. 275

These considerations are bound to make themselves felt in
due time. As the full significance of that gathering of Irish-
men from the ends of the earth, for the sole purpose of re-
storing unity in Ireland, comes home to the minds of those
who have been led astray by artful speeches, their common
sense, as well as their patriotism, must assert itself at last.
They must see that it is only by means of a united party, act-
ing on the one sound principle of the rule of the majority
after fair discussion, any substantial benefit can accrue from
parliamentary action toward a restoration of Ireland's right
of self-government.

The Irish people and the Irish party could do no better
just now than " take a lesson from the enemy." Powerful as
the present Unionist government is, it almost tottered to its
fall over the Education Bill owing to division in its ranks. It
is only a couple of weeks since Sir John Gorst, who is making
an amazing fight for the principle of religious education, con-
fessed the powerlessness of the government in the face of divi-
sion among its followers. Only by the restoration of unanim-
ity, he declared, could the rights of the voluntary schools be
asserted against the bitter foes of religious education in the
House of Commons. Ireland cannot take this lesson too seri-
ously to heart, for, vast as are the interests involved in the
struggle for freedom of education in England, the interests
which are placed in deadly peril by the insanely selfish bicker-
ings of her would-be leaders are infinitely greater to her.

A blessing from the Holy Father, sped specially for the oc-
casion from Rome, preluded the proceedings of the conven-
tion ; and as if to accentuate this proof of his interest and af-
fection in the cause of Home Rule for Ireland, Pope Leo, in
receiving Bishop Fitzgerald in audience on the 25th of Septem-
ber, spoke on the subject in terms that cannot too earnestly
be laid to heart by the clergy at home who, by some strange
infatuation, support the minority section of the Irish party and
so give some color to the motives of the disturbers. The Pope
spoke warmly, nor did he seek to conceal the anxiety with
which he regarded the prospects of a continuance of dissension
in the Irish ranks. Referring to the Parliamentary leaders, he
said : " Let them work together ; let them be united ; and if so,
they can get and do anything they want. But if broken up
by selfishness or faction, they will lay their cause and their

276 EDITORIAL NOTES. [Nov.,

country in ruins." How impressive a ^varning and how irre-
futable its truth ! If it be not heeded by those to whom it is
addressed, the world will put its own construction on the
motive for their contumacy. They will go down to posterity
with a reputation even more sinister than that of obstinate
recalcitrants.

At last the public conscience appears to be stirring in
England over the Armenian atrocities. The slaughter of over a
thousand of these unhappy people in the very streets of Con-
stantinople has caused the slumbering fires of the Eastern
question once more to flame into a white heat, and we appear
to be on the verge of another convulsive phase in the Ottoman
Empire. The first symptoms of the agitation in the English
Liberal ranks are the resignation of Lord Rosebery from the
leadership and the reappearance of Mr. Gladstone in public.
The ex-premier addressed a vast audience at Liverpool early in
October, and showed, notwithstanding his great age, all his old
fire and energy in his denunciation of the rule of the Sultan.
There is a wide-spread wish in the Liberal ranks that he should
again take up the baton of leader, but as yet no decided action
has been taken to ascertain his own disposition on the matter.
For the moment there is uncertainty in the Liberal ranks, but
this cannot long be the case in such a crisis as seems now
confronting the party.

A few days after this event an event occurred which must
have caused the aged statesman a fearful shock. The Arch-
bishop of Canterbury, Dr. Benson, who had been on a visit
with him at Hawarden, fell in a fit in a pew at Hawarden
Church, at Sunday morning service, and died in a few minutes
after. The archbishop and Mr. Gladstone had been warm
friends for many years, and it was on the ex-premier's recom-'
mendation that the deceased prelate was called to the prima-
tial see in English Protestantism, on the death of Dr. Tait.
The news of his frightfully sudden demise affected Mr. Glad-
stone very deeply, and elicited from him the strange remark,
"He died like a soldier.'

1896.]

LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS.

277

AUTHENTIC SKETCHES OF LIVING CATHOLIC

AUTHORS.

MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN was born at Philadelphia. His
father was Maurice Egan, one of the best-known and respected
citizens of Southwark, who came to Philadelphia from the
County Tipperary in 1830. His mother was Margaret Mac-
Mullen Egan, born at Philadelphia in 1819, a niece of John
MacMullen, one of the founders of the banking interests in
the State of Texas.

Maurice Francis Egan had the advantage of living in an

atmosphere of
from his earli-
and he owes the
cation to asym-
ther, whose ex-
guided his from
learned to read,
to Mgr. Cant-
St. Philip's
study Latin
Mr. Henry

wards celebrat-
most erudite of
Being some-
valid, he lived
and when he
of the earliest
Salle College
equipped, from the literary point

MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN.

good books
est childhood,
best of his edu-
pathetic mo-
cellent taste
the time he
He was sent
well's school-
and began to
very early with
Martin, after-
ed as one of the
naval officers,
what of an in-
among books,
entered as one
pupils at La

he was well
of view, to profit by
the occasional lectures of Brother Azarias. Philadelphia has
always offered excellent educational opportunities, and Mr.
Egan was fortunately able to take advantage of such tutors
and lectures as were useful to him. Ill health forced him to
cease from study for a time, and he supplemented his course at
La Salle by a course of philosophy at Georgetown College ;
he began the study of law with Mr. John J. Rogers, of Phila-
delphia ; but, as a tempting offer was made to him for all the
MSS. he could sell by Mr. Henry Peterson, of the Saturday
Evening Post, he relinquished law for literature. After the suc-
cess of two of the most popular novels ever printed in America,
he turned his attention to Catholic journalism. He spent some

2/8

AUTHENTIC SKETCHES OF

[Nov.,

years in journalistic work in an editorial capacity. Later on
he became Professor of English Literature at the University
of Notre Dame, Ind. ; and in October, 1896, after a sojourn at
Oxford, he became Professor of English and Comparative Lit-
erature in the Catholic University of America.

Mr. Egan has contributed much to THE CATHOLIC WORLD,
and he counts among the men who have most benefited him
Father Hecker, whose counsel and encouragement were con-
stant. Mr. Egan is a member of the Author's Club, the
Shakspere Society, and half a dozen learned European bodies.
His sonnets are about to be translated into French and pub-
lished uniform with those of De Heredin. Of all the testimo-
nies that Mr. Egan has received, he seems to value Matthew
Arnold's most. This was Mr. Arnold's exclamation on reading
Mr. Egan's sonnet on "Theocritus" : "If you were a French-
man, you would be elected to the Academy after that ! '

A list of Mr. Egan's books, over twenty in number, may be
found in the Authors Club Book for 1896.

Mr. Egan was married in 1883 to Miss Katharine Mullin, of
Philadelphia. He has three children.

AUSTIN O'MALLEY, PH.D., is at present Professor of English

Literature at
of Notre Dame.
Pittston, Pa., in
graduated from
ty years later,
he has pursued
ies with com-
identifyinghim-
less closely
town Univer-
ington, and for
universities in
many, and Aus-
town has hon-
degrees of Mas-
Doctor of Phi-
Doctor of Med-
Notre Dame

PROF. AUSTIN O'MALLEY.

the University
He was born in
1858, and was
Fordham twen-
Since that time
his higher stud-
mendable zeal,
self more or
with George-
sity at Wash-
five years with
Italy, Ger-

tria. George-
ored him with
ter of Arts,
losophy, and
icine, while
has given him

the ho'norary degree of Doctor of Laws. Immediately be-
fore he was called to succeed Maurice Francis Egan at
Notre Dame he was Bacteriologist to the District of Columbia.
His principal literary work has been in the way of maga-
zine articles, contributing not a little to medical publications,

1896.]

LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS.

279

and in a literary way to the prominent religious publications.
His talents are of a varied nature, and have been cultivated
in different lines with a commendable measure of success. In
the literary world he has a brilliant future.

MRS. JESSIE WILLIS BRODHEAD comes of a literary family.
She is the daughter of Richard Storrs Willis and niece of
Nathaniel P. Willis as well as of Mrs. James Parton, who is
known in the literary world as Fanny Fern. She was born in
New York City, but spent her childhood days under the foster-
ing shade of her woodland home on what was then Belle Isle,

now the City
The fascination
woods and

ows, rilled as
storied legend
romance, early
youthful imagi-
many another
first-fruit of her
ment was the
outcome of her
vironment and
ly in her intel-
Her education
abroad in the
of the convent
the historic
old Chartreuse
later at Jette,

JESSIE WILLIS BRODHEAD,
Detroit, Mich.

Park of Detroit,
of the solitary
bloomingmead-
they were with
of the Indian
impressed her
nation, and, like
gifted child, the
poetic tempera-
spontan e ous
childhood's en-
developed ear-
lectualtraining.
was obtained
quiet seclusion
-first within
walls of the
at Orleans, and
in the environs

of Brussels. Into this quiet religious atmosphere she carried
her literary traditions and ^talents, and, surrounded by evidences
of a staid and refined civilization, she often found occasion
to allude in poetic verse to her early surroundings.

She was married to Mr. Brodhead when very young, and is
charmingly youthful in manner and appearance in spite of the
fact, to which she alludes with much pride, that she has half a
dozen boys and girls.

Her published verses, written as the occasion called them
forth, indicate a deep poetic feeling welling forth from a natu-
rally refined heart, and purified and elevated by a deep religious
training. Her prose writings are in strong, good English tend-
ing to the epigrammatic, and pervaded throughout by a very
high moral tone.

280 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Nov.,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

AMONG the forces now working for the extension and development of Catholic
Reading Circles none is more powerful than the Champlain Summer Assem-
bly. The board of directors of the Reading Circle Union is as follows : Rev.
Morgan M. Sheedy, chairman, Altoona, Pa ; Mr. James Clark, New York ; Rev.
John F. Mullany, LL.D., Syracuse, N. Y.; Rev. Walter P. Gough, Philadelphia,
Pa.; Warren E. Mosher, A.M., Youngstown, O. This is the course of studies for
1896-7: i. Studies in American History, by Marc F. Vallette, LL.D.; 2. Ameri-
can Literature, by Thomas O'Hagan, A.M., Ph.D.; 3. Social Problems, by Rev.
Morgan M. Sheedy; 4. Studies in Civics; 5. Social Institutions of the United
States. All Reading Circles should have a copy of the descriptive circular giving
the detailed information regarding the above course, which has sufficient variety
to suit the varied needs of the members. By sending ten cents in postage to Mr.
Warren E. Mosher the circulars may be obtained.

The adjourned meeting of the trustees held at the Windsor Hotel, New York
City, completed the regular business prescribed on September 22, and at the same
time the following officers were elected : President, Rev. Thomas J. Conaty, D.D.,
Worcester ; first vice-president, Rev. M. J. Lavelle, New York ; second vice-presi-
dent, General E. C. O'Brien, New York ; treasurer, Rev. John F. Mullany, LL.D.,
Syracuse ; general secretary, Warren E. Mosher, A.M., Youngstown, O. Execu-
tive Committee: chairman, Honorable John B. Riley, Plattsburgh ; Rev. Thomas
J. Conaty, D.D., ex-officio ; Rev. M. J. Lavelle, ex-officio ; Major John Byrne ; Rev.
Thomas McMillan, C.S.P.; Rev. J. F. Loughlin ; James Clark, Esq., secretary.
Board of Studies: Rev. M. J. Lavelle, chairman; Professor JohnH. Haaren, Rev.
Brother Justin, Rev. John F. Mullany, Rev. F. P. Siegfreid. Board of Audit :
Joseph W. Carroll, Esq., Major John Byrne, General E. C. O'Brien.

John P. Brophy, Esq., of New York, resigned, and Honorable J. J. Curran,
Judge of the Supreme Court of Montreal, was elected to succeed him.

General O'Brien is hopeful of his plan for a hotel on the Bluff, and assurances
were given of cottages to be built by the Boyle O'Reilly Reading Circle of Boston,
the Fenelon of Brooklyn, and New York friends of the Summer-School.

The location of the Summer-School will be known henceforward as Cliff
Haven, N. Y., with a post-office of that name. .The priests of the diocese of Og-
densburg made their annual retreat on the Summer-School grounds, during the
fourth week of September.

The total receipts from the session of 1896, including lecture fees, rentals,
etc., amounted to $4,731.62, the expenses were $3,916.02, thus leaving a small sur-
plus to be applied to the improvement of the grounds. Nothing is more impor-
tant at the present time than to secure an increase of life-memberships for the
Summer Assembly. Good wishes given for the movement are vastly out of pro-
portion to the money donated. It is hoped that by the aid of local committees a
more practical state of affairs may be brought about, and more substantial results

secured,

* * *

All the disadvantages of feeble youthfulness have been removed from the
Catholic Young Men's National Union by the completion of its twenty-first year
of a very useful existence. Over three hundred delegates attended the convention
recently held at the Madison Square Concert Hall, New York City. The venerable

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 281

Monsignor Doane was welcomed by the young men when he arose to speak of
the veteran delegates who assembled in answer to his call at Newark, N. J.,in the
year 1875. From that date the list of officers shows the names of clergy and laity
whose work has proved successful not only in parish societies, but also in the
broader field of social and intellectual advancement which is so necessary to the
welfare of the whole church.

The prize essay, by Mr. George B. Lamb, of Philadelphia, contained much
sage advice, which some of the senior members of the Catholic laity would do well
to consider. He made a strong plea for more effective work among the young
men in these words :

At a time when so much attention is devoted to the education of Catholic
youth of tender years it is well to note that this work is continued, in the years
which follow the school-days, through the agency of parish literary societies and
reading circles. If the utmost care is taken to imbue the minds of the young with
right ideas and correct principles, equal care should be taken to have a field where
these ideas and these principles may enjoy full play, to further develop and
strengthen them. And this is the mission of these organizations. They surround
their members with the best influences, and strive to instruct, amuse, and afford
them congenial company. They protect them at a time when protection is most
needed the period of forming youthful associations, which may make or mar
their after lives. They are necessary, then, and are highly approved by all who
have the welfare of our youth at heart. How best to advance their work and
enlarge their scope of usefulness, is the subject which should concern every one
of us.

It is evident that if association in a local literary society, properly con-
ducted, benefits the individual member and this will not be gainsaid member-
ship of the society in the union must prove beneficial to both. Now, if one
society does exercise a power for good over a small community, many such, organ-
ized as one, must wield a wider influence over a greater territory.

The principal idea which must be kept in mind, and carefully disseminated
among the members, is that of union union of purpose, union of interests. We
live in an age of centralization of power, of wealth, of labor ; of concentrated
systems, in which the individual is seemingly less a factor than formerly. Upon
him who attempts to ignore it this fact is painfully impressed.

We may accept it, therefore, as a sound proposition that a union of our
societies which is but another name for concentrated effort is necessary, if we
would accomplish work of any magnitude or exercise influence over numbers of
our young men. We accept the proposition unreservedly. Are we agreed in
the application of it ? A notable failing of our people perhaps not more so than
that of others, but still a failing is our unwillingness to respond to the require-
ments of discipline. When we become conscious of our faults we can apply
ourselves to their correction. Now, we cannot all be leaders. If we have talents
they will be recognized. True worth is not so common as to pass unnoticed.
Let us rather share our gifts with our less fortunate brothers, the sharing of
which will excite no jealousy, cause no distrust, but in return bring us additional
gifts and blessings.

The editor of Donahoe's Magazine, Mr. M. J. Dwyer, of Boston, was a
prominent figure at the Convention of the Catholic Young Men's National
Union. In strong language he depicted the lukewarm, often frigid, bearing of
great numbers of the laity and a part of the clergy towards the Catholic press.
Although accomplishing a magnificent work for American citizenship, for the

282 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Nov.,

church and for God, it cannot expect maintenance by government subsidy,
diocesan collections, nor yet by manna from heaven. The most potent cause of
all the failings of our papers is in their lack of financial resources to develop
themselves to perfection. Our prominent Catholic editors know good literature
and would be glad to procure it for their publications did the treasuries of their
respective concerns permit. Search the files of our Catholic periodicals for years
past and you will find this statement abundantly attested. From the days of
Matthew Carey, of Philadelphia, the first American Catholic publisher of this
country, to our own time, the delinquent subscriber and the non-subscriber have
been the greatest obstacles and most serious drawbacks to the realization of an
ideal Catholic journalism and Catholic periodical literature.

It is a noble mission for Catholic young men to be zealous supporters of their
own champions. With the superior advantages placed at their disposal they
should see clearly the importance of a well-established, influential and respected
press, to defend us, to represent us properly, to define our standing authoritative-
ly and convincingly, whenever in the complex conditions of American life ques-
tions shall arise in which our spiritual or material interests as a class are involved.
Our obligation is to support it, to talk it up, to interest men of means to ap-
preciate its increasing possibilities. We should use our influence individually
and collectively to make our Catholic press grow with our growth, spreading in
prestige and power among American journals, in the ratio of our numerical
development in the country.

* * *

The career of Lord Russell of Killowen, who holds the high office of Lord
Chief-Justice of England, should be a theme of profitable study for Catholic young
men. He affords a splendid example of success. Few men in his position would
have ventured to make such a speech for his faith and his fatherland as he deliv-
ered at the Catholic Club, New York City. His notable address before the Amer-
ican Bar Association at Saratoga, N. Y., contained the following passage, which
indicates the vast extent of territory available for the literature of the English
language. Lord Russell said :

Though we represent political communities which differ widely in many re-
spects, in the structure of their constitutions and otherwise, we yet have many
things in common. We speak the same language ; we administer laws based on
the same juridical conceptions ; we are co-heirs in the rich traditions of political
freedom long established, and we enjoy in common a literature the noblest and
the purest the world has known an accumulated store of centuries, to which you
on your part have made generous contribution. Beyond this, the unseen "crim-
son thread " of kinship, stretching from the mother islands to your great conti-
nent, unites us, and reminds us always that we belong to the same, though a
mixed, racial family. Indeed, the spectacle which we to-day present is unique.
We represent the great English-speaking communities communities occupying
a large space of the surface of the earth made up of races wherein the blood of
Celt and Saxon, of Dane and Norman, of Pict and Scot are mingled and
fused into an aggregate power held together by the nexus of a common speech-
combining at once territorial dominion, political influence, and intellectual force
greater than history records in the case of any other people. This consideration
is prominent among those which suggest the theme on which I desire to address
you namely, International law.

The English-speaking peoples, masters not alone of extended territory but
also of a mighty commerce, the energy and enterprise of whose sons have made

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 283

them the great travellers and colonizers of the world, have interests to safeguard
in every quarter of it, and, therefore, in an especial manner it is important to them
that the rules which govern the relations of states inter se should be well under-
stood and should rest on the solid bases of convenience, of justice, and of reason.
One other consideration has prompted the selection of my subject. I knew it
was one which could not fail, however imperfectly treated, to interest you. You

regard with just pride the part which the judges and writers of the United States
have played in the development of international law. Story, Kent, Marshall,
Wheaton, Dana, Woolsey, Halleck, and Wharton, among others, compare not un-
favorably with the workers of any age in this province of jurisprudence.

* * *

Bishop Spalding delivered an excellent discourse some time ago to the stu-
dents of Notre Dame University. We commend the following selections from it

to all young men seeking to improve their minds by judicious reading :

There is mystery about every boy not observed in men. From a man's past
we can judge what this future work will be ; but who knows what may be made
of any boy ? St. Thomas and Newton two of the brightest and greatest minds
when boys, were looked on as dull and unpromising. No boy need despair of
doing great things. Boys are in the early stages of development. The aim of
education is to develop self-activity ; and much of this development must come
through language. Language is the biography, the history of the people. In it
we trace their origin back to the mother race by the original root words.

Language is found in its perfection in literature, and literature is speech re-
duced to writing. Since language is the living body of thought, it follows that if
we w r ish to educate ourselves we must make ourselves acquainted with language
and literature. Emerson said that in every college worthy of the name there
ought to be a professorship of books.

A college is not a place to do useful work. Parents are sometimes very fool-
ish, although we must not say so or forget the respect due to them. Most of
them expect their sons to return from college fully equipped, and prepared to
enter immediately into the activity and strife of business life. The best place to
train boys for practical work is in the shop and in the counting-house.

If we are not striving to educate our young 1 men for practical work, what we
do strive for is to make them acquainted with literature ; with the best that has
been said or written in every country, in every age. It is in books that the best
can be found. In them is the life of our race, and there the master-spirits are
embalmed. Milton says, As well kill a man as kill a good book. It is as hard
to know a great book as to know a great man. It takes a hero to know a hero ;
servile minds cannot know or appreciate the heroic. In order to know a man
you must know the things that man knows. This is true also of books. To know
them requires not only labor and thought, but genius and art. If we are to enter
into the spirit of an author much is required. If we tell a boy to take up a ball
from the ground and he does not bend or stretch for it, the ball will remain there.
So with books; it is difficult to force a boy to do the stretching and bending
necessary to reach the essence of a great book.

The common run of our thoughts is so trivial on mere narratives about
common events. Whatever merely tells and narrates catches the ordinary mind.
What do we hear every day in the streets, in the train, in our parlors but super-
ficial gossip, mere trivial accounts of the accidents of life. When you try to get
men to drop this, you ask what can be accomplished only after years. We can
do things well only when we have acquired a habit of doing them. We must
acquire facility and perseverance as a habit.

We need amusement ; we seek to be happy, and we seek what pleases us.
So long as we have not learned the source of happiness given by books we are
dependent on superficial, trivial things for entertainment. Books can make us
independent of individuals. They bring us into contact with the greatest and the
best. A few books make a library. Are there not plenty of books of humor, of
travel, of adventure, of popular science ? If we once begin to love these books,
are we not relieved from tediousness and from ourselves ? How seldom do we
hear any genuine humor from those around us. Books are companions never
weary, never dull. I remember when, as a boy fifteen years old, I found and read

284 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Nov., 1896.

Plutarch's Lives, and how they brought to me such a new world as dawned on
Columbus they brought me into contact with Alexander, Demosthenes, etc.
Such a book will awaken in you great thoughts. By this kind of reading we are
drawn to continue, to go on higher. We learn to know ourselves by knowing
what is not ourselves. If a man knew the whole universe he would be in har-
mony with God. We learn to love ourselves by knowing what is not ourselves.
The greaj: ttyng. is to get out of ourselves, to get away from ourselves. This is
what we ^earff^cuf :when we travel, when we seek for variety, amusement, enter-
tainmenfo. ^Ifd^ajirthis we can get in books. It is not necessary for you to be-
gin withj$>e wiftlj cniftiinal books. It is extremely doubtful if you will ever learn
to appr4|.t$i^ go^d literature from beginning on trash. Begin with Robinson
ufxotei'&ftd. the lives of heroes.

We ''reacr&boks not only to amuse us but to instruct us. Only fools are hurt
by knowledge,. . .Books of history are more interesting than any fiction : the histo-
ry of our war for independence and the civil war. Take books on popular science.
It is of the greatest possible advantage to know some one science thoroughly, but
it is impossible to know all thoroughly. Take one of the popular books on as-
tronomy and read of the inconceivable grandeur of the universe. You will find it
is not satisfactory to have only a small smattering ; then go on, read higher books
on the subject. This lighter reading and beginning of the love of books will lift
your thoughts above trivial subjects. When you go into society you will have
something noble to talk of. In whatever subject is broached you will be able to
appreciate or to lead, as you will be expected to do as students and educated men.
Clothes do not make the gentleman, nor even manner ; you may have an uncouth
manner, but nothing is so fascinating as a strong mind. Then cultivate your
mind, and remember when reading that books are not only to amuse but to in-
struct. The aim of your professor is not so much to impart common knowledge
as to arouse your mind to activity. This is the great object, to incite an enthusi-
asm for mental activity. Books, then, are most useful or best which arouse the
imagination and break down the narrow wall of monotony, insulation, and ignor-
ance.

It is easy to procure and read the opinions of others on great books : thou-
sands of volumes have been written on Shakspere ; but it is better to learn one
great book than to read thousands. Give me a man who has mastered one great
book. Fear the man of one book. After you have made your own notes and opin-
ions, it is well and necessary for you to compare them with what others have
written. Observe well the style in a great book. Style is a part of the very na-
ture of a great man, and we may say that no man who has not a style of his own
is fit to be read. We find in books inspiration for self-activity. In proportion
as a man rises out of himself , and out of the present, he becomes more manly.
We must rise above the childish ideas and trivialities of life in order that God's

image may be brought out in us.

* * *

Every Reading Circle should be acquainted with the excellent volume Books
and Reading, by Brother Azarias, composed of articles first published in THE
CATHOLIC WORLD. A new edition is now for sale at the '^Cathedral Library,
New York City.

Messrs. D. H. McBride and Co., Chicago, announce three new volumes to
perpetuate the work of Brother Azarias as a great Christian educator and a man
of letters. The essays are to be arranged in groups as follows : Educational,
with preface by his Eminence Cardinal Gibbons : Cloistral Schools, The Palatine
School, Mediaeval University Life, University Colleges : their Origin and their
Methods, The Primary School in the Middle Ages, The Simultaneous Method in
Teaching, Beginnings of the Normal School, M. Gabriel Compayre as an His-
torian of Pedagogy. Philosophical, with preface by the Right Rev. John J.
Keane, D.D. : Aristotle and the Christian Church, The Nature and Synthetic
Principle of Philosophy, Symbolism of the Cosmos, Psychological Aspects of
Education, Ethical Aspects of the Papal Encyclical on Labor. Miscellaneous,
with preface by the Rev. Brother Justin : Literature : its Nature and Influence,
Religion in Education, The Sonnets and Plays of Shakespere, Culture of the
Spiritual Sense, Our Catholic School System, Our Colleges, Church and State.

M. C. M.

ASS

DNIGHT

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THE

CATHOLIC WORLD,

VOL. LXIV. DECEMBER, 1896. No. 381.

IN THE CHIME TOWER.

BY MARY BOYLE O'REILLY.

I'lGH in the tower of the Church of the Trumpets
hung the Bells, motionless, silent, and neglected.
Sometimes a distant concussion jarred the
great building to its foundations, when the Bells
would creak and groan on their great oaken
beams. Or a strong wind blowing through the
stone lattice all about them made eerie whispering sounds as if
the Bells were talking. It was long years since the death of
their last ringer and now the chime was almost forgotten.
There was the Great Bell, bearing a proud inscription graven
upon it ; the Tone Bells, whose sweet voices grew hoarse with
long confinement ; and high above the rest five restless Minor
Bells, who seldom ceased their whispering.

"It is now five years," murmured the Treble Tone to its
mate the Bass Bell.

"And likely to be five more," piped the noisiest Minor.
" Are we never to ring again," sighed the Major Tone,
" when all other Bells are ringing ? '

" But two days now till they hold high carnival, it being
Christmas," wailed the Smallest Bell.

Then the Great Bell, having gravely listened to their com-
plaining, answered : " Wait and see."

The Tone Bells sighed for very contentment, knowing the
superior age and wisdom of their leader. But the five little
Minors, being still young and curious, began to whisper to-
gether, wondering what the words might mean.

286 IN THE CHIME TOWER. [Dec.,

" We will have to wait, no doubt," cried the Flute Minor;
" but let's do our very best to see."

So they all crept close to the carved stone lattice, peering
excitedly into the street below.

The boys who lived in Salutation Alley called him Billy,
finding his soft Italian name too strange for common use ;
and Billy willingly accepted the change as part of the new sur-
roundings.

When old Giovanni, his friend and countryman, who lived
across the hallway, tried to remonstrate, he was answered by a
careless, merry laugh. They were friends these two, sworn
friends and faithful, who spent much time together in silent
sympathy. As Billy was young and light-hearted, Giovanni was
old and lonely; so each could help the other in a hundred
simple ways.

If there was one thing that Billy loved more than another,
it was to sit in the sun and get warm. He loved the sun and
he loved to loaf, the more perhaps as he had but little of
either. All day he shivered and shook in the nipping cold of
the dismal, narrow streets, hunting the pittance he was sent to
earn ; but that once done he sped silently away to the splen-
did square where stood the Church of the Trumpets. Just
across, on the opposite corner, was the bishop's house, with its
surrounding strip of green sward ; a very oasis in a brown-
stone desert. Now the grass was frozen crisp, but the sun still
shone warmly on the granite coping that made so good a seat.
There was much for bright eyes to see on the splendid avenue :
beautiful women and fairy-like children walking or driving past.
He told his mother about it when he went home at night, but
neither of them ever told his sullen father.

Sometimes Billy stood on the granite coping with head
thrown well back, so that his cap just clung to his sleek, dark
head, examining the procession of trumpeted angels midway
upon the tower. One there was who for ever brandished his
golden bugle as if it were a sword ; and that angel was Billy's
favorite. Had the tower not been so high he might have heard
the Bells whispering together ; but as it was he could barely
discern their bronze curves half hidden by the lattice. The
restless Minor Bells, eagerly looking down, saw the small, stur-
dy figure, but they paid it little heed. Were they not wait-
ing for the Ringer whose coming the Great Bell had fore-
told.

1896.]

IN THE CHIME TOWER.

287

" PEOPLE PASSING IN THE GREAT SQUARE LOOKED UPWARD."

So Billy, having counted the angels for the hundredth time,
sat down in a favorite corner nursing his knee. A nice warm
sunbeam struck full on his back, toasting him through and
through. The noise of carriages, passers-by, and voices carried

288 IN THE CHIME TOWER. [Dec.,

distinctly on the clear, cold air that was fast making him sleepy,
until sounds of footsteps on the stone stair just behind caused
him to turn. The Bishop's door had opened and shut again
with a sharp clang, and now two gentlemen were slowly de-
scending the house-steps. One, from his snow-white hair and
kind old face, Billy felt must be the Bishop, and this one was
speaking.

" I am sorry, very sorry not to have found a ringer. They
have been too long neglected, but it is not every man to whom
I would trust the bells. Besides, on Christmas' -then both
passed out of hearing, leaving Billy deep in thought.

Bells then those were bells way up there. That was better
than angels. How many were there ? he wondered. And the
Bishop had said they were not to be rung on Christmas. That
was a pity. Could they ring songs like the beautiful bells he
had heard so often at home before he came to the States ?
Then a sudden idea came to Billy, and he sat quite still
busily pondering. Why could not Giovanni ring the bells ?
He had been a ringer in Naples poor old Giovanni, who
lived alone and friendless in his garret room, sewing on sack-
ing. Giovanni was very good to him, had stitched a fine strap
for his bundle of papers. Why not ask about it? Trying
could do no harm.

Billy stood up, tingling all over with cold and excitement,
his heart beating very fast, for he saw the Bishop returning
alone from the church. So the boy waited, counting the old
man's footsteps and the sharp click, click of his cane on the
pavement. When both ceased for a moment at the foot of the
stone steps Billy sprang forward.

" Please, sir," he began, his face flushed and moist hair
steaming in the frosty air, his old fur cap in one hand.

" Well, my little man, did you wish to see me ? ' questioned
the Bishop, pausing, a smile on his gentle face.

" Yes, please," said Billy, recovering his breath with a gasp.
" It's about the bells. I listened when you was talking. I
know a man that can ring them. Truly I do!'

"Is he your father?' asked the Bishop, still smiling.

" No, sir ; it's Giovanni " ; and a merry look grew on the
thin, dark face at thought of his burly parent ringing the
bells. " Giovanni can do it," he added with the earnestness
born of conviction ; " he used to do it at home."

"And where is home?' queried the listener gravely, one
hand laid on the small speaker's shoulder.

1896.] IN THE CHIME TOWER. 289

" Naples is home," returned Billy stoutly ; " this is only the
States."

" Yet in the States are homes of many strangers," ex-
postulated the Bishop ; then, next moment, " send your friend
to me this evening, for the time is short. Will you remem-
ber ?' He spoke in Italian, very gently, and Billy, bowing
his head, answered, " Si, signor."

Fast as his feet could carry him the willing messenger sped
away, back to the North End, to Salutation Alley and his
home. Up two flights of steep, dark stairs he ran, breathless,
eager. Through a half-open door he could see his mother busy
with some household task ; but it was not to her he went. A
few steps across the hall and he burst into a little room where
a man sat patiently sewing by one window.

" Giovanni ! ' he cried, sinking down exhausted on a pile of
finished bags " Giovanni ! I told the Bishop, and he said you
must come."

Giovanni looked up from his work with languid interest, a
dulled, grieving look in his sad eyes. Then Billy explained as
best he might in his excitement.

"You must come quick, Giovanni," he cried, dragging the
coarse sacking from the other's nerveless hands. " Come," he
repeated ; and Giovanni rose in dazed amazement.

" The bells ! ' he murmured, apparently speaking his thought
aloud ; " I have not to ring the bells for many years."

" There ! it is six o'clock," cried Billy, pausing to listen as
the deep boom of a striking clock rose on the noisy air.
' Get ready," he admonished ; and Giovanni, still lost in medi-
tation, proceeded to obey.

" Perhaps I have no more the power, Billy," he said wist-
fully, the muscles of his wan face twitching nervously ; " the
time has been more long than you have lived till I was ringer."

Now he was struggling feebly with the sleeves of his worn
black coat.

" It has not been after she went from me," he continued,
sinking upon a chair as if weary from his slight exertion '* not
since that day, caro mio ; it was the fault of I to be harsh,
more cruel " ; and he slowly shook his head.

Billy sat silent on the pile of sacking, his black eyes spark-
ling with interest and curiosity. Never before had Giovanni
said even this little of his past life in far-away Naples. But
with innate courtesy past all teaching he asked no question,
waiting for his companion to speak.

290 IN THE CHIME TOWER. [Dec.,

" Let us to go," cried Giovanni in sudden agitation ; and
Billy, nothing loath, followed him gladly down the dark stairs.
In half an hour's rapid, silent walking they- reached the Church
of the Trumpets, and stood by the Bishop's house.

" You'd better go in by yourself," said Billy shortly. "I'll
wait right here."

And once more he sat on the coping, his bright eyes fol-
lowing Giovanni's spare, bowed figure until it was lost in the
entrance.

Then succeeded a long, trying interval for the lonely little
watcher. The lamp-lit avenue no longer held power to charm
him, and the trumpeted angels were all forgotten.

" They must be talking about the wages," thought Billy
despairingly, when, looking up, he saw that Giovanni stood
beside him.

" To me was given the keys," murmured Giovanni, as if
speaking to himself ; " let us go to the bells." On his pale face
was a peaceful, musing look as if he thought of far-away pleas-
ant things, and Billy, somewhat awed, followed silently.

From his window the old Bishop watched the shadowy
figures pass into the church together, bearing a lantern.

" The chime is quite safe in that man's hands," he said ;
" at last we have found a ringer worthy of the bells."

"Was it about the money kept you so long?' questioned
Billy as they climbed into the tower.

Giovanni looked perplexed. " We together spoke not of
money," he answered simply, and hurried on. Up and up they
went, the tower growing narrower with each turning, until
they reached the tiny room just beneath the chime, where
stood the key-board.

Slowly, very slowly Giovanni threw back the lid, seating
himself on a high stool the while. His quivering face bent
low over the hand laid with practised skill upon the keys.
Then from above came a low, rustling sound, growing and
strengthening with each moment.

The Minor Bells rang out loud and glad, soft and insistent
the Tone Bells took up the refrain, and the Great Bell in
slow, stately measure added a long, strong peal.

But Billy, stunned by the reverberation, crept down the
winding stair, and into the church porch, where he curled up
to listen.

People passing in the square looked upward, smiling for
pleasure to hear the bells again.

1896.] IN THE CHIME TOWER. 291

Almost an hour passed before Giovanni descended from the
tower to find his small guide, with a little comrade whom he
had picked up, waiting. " The key is to be mine," he said in
explanation, and together they went homeward.

" I will ring once again, to-morrow at the dark," he added
after a long silence as they parted on the gloomy landing-
place outside their separate homes; and Billy accepted the
speech as an invitation.

All through the night and all next day the Bells hung
expectant, awaiting the return of their new Ringer.

" How did you know, Great Bell ? ' asked the Treble Tone ;
but the Great Bell made no answer.

" It is good to chime again," murmured the Bass Bell ; and
the Treble Minor carolled " Happy Christmas!'

It was late before Giovanni could leave his piles of sacking
for the tower, the morrow being Christmas and a holiday.

Billy was in an agony of impatience ere they started. But
Giovanni proceeded slowly, lost in dreamy revery. He was
living over again some long-past happening, hardly aware of
present things.

' I was more cruel it might to break her heart yet she
was not of complaint. It was for the sake of the dear mother
she would to go away," he murmured sorrowfully. Then, seeing
Billy's bright eyes fixed upon his face, quietly explained. " It
is the child of whom I think. She was but a girl only most
loving. Once she went away for to earn the money we had it
not. That I might to find her ! That I might to find her !
She was now the most dear of all the world to me." As he
spoke they reached the church porch, where a lighted lantern
had been set for them.

" Here's the lantern," said Billy gently. "I'll stay down^
here ; the noise is too loud."

'Ah, caro mio ! you know not the bells," answered Giovan-
ni fondly; "their bravest note is to the lover most music."
And, smiling, he took the light, climbing slowly upward.

Once again from his sheltered nook in the porch Billy list-
ened to the chimes, sweet and soft, then strong and clear
above him.

Now Giovanni paused, then touched the keys, and once
again sounded a strange, wild fantasy in sobbing minors. Last
night it had rung out a few clear notes ; but now he dwelt
upon the theme with lingering repetition. In the darkness
shadowy figures stood for a moment listening, then hurried on,

HE FOUND HIS SMALL GUIDE WITH A r LITTLE COMRADE WHOM HE HAD PICKED UP.'

1896.] IN THE CHIME TOWER. 293

speaking together of the marvellous music of the bells. At an
uncurtained window opposite he could see the Bishop, listen-
ing also, with white head bent forward resting on his hand.

Two men tramped stolidly by, and their footsteps crunching
the snow grew muffled and lost in the distance. A slight,
girlish figure appeared suddenly from the cavernous gloom of
a side street, and paced slowly back and forth upon the pave-
ment with nervous, uncertain movements.

Billy watched her curiously until he caught the sound of a
half-smothered sob, as if the girl were weeping. Then he hur-
ried toward her, filled with sympathy. The muffled figure turned
away with startled swiftness, but Billy called to her.

" Don't be scared ; it's only me," he cried ; and the childish
voice reassured her so that she paused, uncertain. " My name's
Billy. Are you lost?' he asked, standing beside her.

"I--I--was hearing to the bells," she stammered; "may
you know who it is the ringer ? '

Then to Billy came a thought so wonderful that for a mo-
ment he could not speak.

This strange girl's voice, her broken words were not more
her's than Giovanni's ; and Giovanni only an hour ago had re-
peated over and over : " That I might to find her! that I might
to find her ! "

"Yes, it is Giovanni," cried Billy incoherently; "and he's
hunting for you. He told me so. Here's the way to go up" ;
and darting into the porch he held the door open. The faint
glimmering light of the lantern far above dimly showed the
winding staircase. A musical murmuring filled the great tower
as of a rustling wind. A puzzled, wondering look grew on the
girl's pale face while she stood listening. Then, with a glad
cry, she sprang forward.

Billy closed the door very gently when the stairs turning
hid her slight figure.

Then he blew thoughtfully on his frost-bitten fingers, mov-
ing slowly back to his old seat on the granite co-ping.

Above the bells rang out clear and far-reaching ; another
moment and they had ceased with an uncertain, muffled sound.
For a long time there was silence unbroken, ominous. The
Bishop in his lonely library noted and wondered what it all
might mean.

Rising, he was about to send and question, when once again,
loud and glad, sounded the interrupted chime.

And Billy stood on the pavement saluting the Bells.

294

CHRISTMAS IN THE PINES.

[Dec.,

CHRISTMAS IN THE PINES.

BY MEREDITH NICHOLSON.

HE sky was clear all yesterday,
From dawn until the sunset's

flame ;

But when the red had grown to gray,
Out of the west the snow-clouds came.

At midnight by the dying fire,

Watching the spruce-boughs glow and
pale,

I heard outside a tumult dire,

And the fierce roaring of the gale.

Now with the morning comes a lull ;

The sun shines boldly in the east
Upon a world made beautiful

In vesture for the Christmas feast.

Into the pathless waste I go,

With muffled step, among the pines
That, robed in sunlight and soft snow,

Stand like a thousand radiant shrines.

Save for a lad's song, far and faint,

There is no sound in all the wood ;
The murmuring pines are still ; their plaint

At last was heard and understood.

Here floats no chime of Christmas bell,

There is no voice to give me cheer ;
But through the pinewood all is well,

For God and love and peace are here !

1896.] THE GREAT ASSASSIN. 295

THE GREAT ASSASSIN AND THE CHRISTIANS OF

ARMENIA.

BY GEORGE McDERMOT, C.S.P.

TAKE for a part of the title of this article the
epithet of Great Assassin which Mr. Gladstone
has bestowed upon the Sultan, and for the other
part of the title, instead of Armenians, the term
Christians of Armenia, as significant of the views
I propose respectfully to submit. I may say with deference,
at the beginning, that I regard the Turkish Empire as the
plague-spot of civilization. I myself have no doubt as to what
course I should wish the Christian nations to pursue concern-
ing it. The metaphor plague-spot rather distinctly suggests
the usage I should be disposed to advocate if there were no
difficulties in the way if, for instance, there was a particle of
justice, honesty, humanity in the Christian powers of Europe.
I am free to confess it is hard to write with patience.

In this, which is the month of our Lord's Nativity, the
month which brings round the ever-recurring memory of the
message of peace and good-will sent down from heaven to a
world torn with hate and lust and dying of corruption, I think
it is very fitting that some voice even the echo of a voice-
should be lifted up to beg of the American people to give
their whole moral support to our fellow-Christians in the hands
of the Turk, and what they can of material support. From
that message of the Nativity, as we all know, issued forth
everything that is purest, holiest, and most enduring in family
life and in modern society. Against all this Mohammedanism
has waged a furious war from the moment it left the desert
until to-day it outrages human nature itself in the persons of
those unhappy Armenians by every form of violence and lust.
In this country it is not necessary to be swayed by the
opinions of European Powers. The American people are still
a Christian people and can feel for Christians, a civilized people
not yet depraved by civilization, a free people who can justly
estimate the condition of those who are born under a tyranny
that concentrates in itself whatever is most odious and most
crafty in all the cruel and politic despotisms of the East,

296 THE GREAT ASSASSIN [Dec.,

whether old or young. The Americans are a people so trained
in the uses of political liberty that the public conscience is
not kept in the bosom of an emperor, a king, or a prime
minister ; so that whatever judgment they pronounce, whatever
action they take concerning those horrors of which our fellow-
Christians are the victims, cannot be without enormous influ-
ence in Europe,

THE TRADITIONS OF SOLYMAN.

The opinion of America, when stated with determination, is
not without effect in Constantinople. The American minister,
in the representations made by him respecting the rights of
American citizens of Turkish or Armenian origin, obtained
practically the concessions he demanded. It was under menace
of course, but the advisers of Hamid II. are not the ministers
of Solyman the Magnificent. If any vizier dared to tell such
a sultan as the latter that what he had first refused must be
granted to the cursed Giaour or else a ship of war would steam
up the Dardanelles to enforce it, the tortures inflicted upon
him would at one and the same moment express the sover-
eign's regard for distasteful counsel and his concern for all that
his enemies could do. There is one principle of the policy and
legislation of this great sovereign preserved in theory with de-
votion, and pursued in practice where it can be done safely :
that which forbids change in the customs of the people. It has
been said by an author not wholly unfavorable to the Turk
that this principle has placed a barrier between them and future
improvement. The massacres which have filled Armenia with
mourning, and the malignity which has made her valleys and
hill-sides as desolate as if a storm of wind and fire had passed
over them, prove how conservative the Turks are in observance
of this one rule among the maxims and regulations gathered
together into the book Solyman commanded to be compiled.
Another custom may be pointed out without disadvantage :
that which devotes the male relatives of the sultan to the
prison or the bowstring. Both of these are proofs of, as well
as provisions for securing, the barbarous character of their
polity, no matter what advances may be made elsewhere over
Europe.

A TOAD IN A GARDEN.

And it is very germane to the matter in hand to say a
word or two as to the manner in which this polity which pre-

1896.] AND THE CHRISTIANS OF ARMENIA. 297

serves the Turks as a camp of fanatics in whatever country they
seized and kept has worked for its improvement and for the
social amelioration of the conquered people. The fairest re-
gions of the world have been taken by their horsemen and
trampled over. Turkish possession is a Turcoman ride up and
down Syria and Asia Minor, withered by it as by a simoom ;
Turcoman gallops, banditti gallops, Tartar forays over the parts
of the European continent still left to them, and Turcoman
atrocities in Crete.* What can be said of Asia Minor? Every
reader of classic story and of church history knows of those
marts of commerce into which the trade of pre-Christian cen-
turies was poured from the East and Africa, and which contin-
ued to flourish in the Christian centuries that followed. The
ruins of magnificent cities attest the wealth and power of the
successive polities under which they were built. Asia Minor
was the part of the great commonwealth that a Roman procon-
sul desired should be allotted to him that he might extort the
sums needed to pay the debts contracted in the pursuit of his
ambition. All the costliest and all the most necessary gifts of
nature were there lavished in abundance. The plains yielded
every kind of grain with limitless profusion; the broad pastures
and the woods were the richest of any to be found over the
same extent of country in the east and south ; the rivers were
so full of gold that we may in some way guess how the fable
of Midas rose ; the finest marbles were to be found in the
mountains in a word, Asia Minor seemed the favorite child of
nature. Such was it of old and it is to-day the same in na-
ture's bounty ; but the Turk has made it a land of ruins.
Travellers compare the pastures and woods in all directions to
the parks in England ; but those rich and beautiful landscapes
are disfigured by the hordes of straggling Turcomans, their
tents. and their flocks of goats. A few little mills here and
there are turned by little rivers, and these, having been allowed
to flood the adjacent country, have changed into swamps dis-
tricts that in other times were the market-gardens and dairy-
farms of cities. The population has been disappearing steadily.
Some places are bare of inhabitants, although the richness of

* It has been argued that no right of which international law is supposed to take cogniz-
ance can be acquired by such a possession. The camp of an invading army is a possession that
confers no title ; it is a mere occupation, like the pitching of gipsy tents at the entrance to a
village. This is not the place to state what might be advanced in support of the position, but
I may refer to the very suggestive fact that Scutari, the great cemetery of Constantinople, is
on the Asiatic side of the strait, a precaution handed down from the day the Turks took it, to
prevent the dishonor of their dead when the Europeans shall recover the city.

298 THE GREAT ASSASSIN [Dec.,

the land struck the travellers who have given these impressions
as if they were gazing on scenes of fairy-land, and one plainly
says, talking of his route through part of it, that it so far
exceeded the beauty of nature as to seem the work of magic.
I remember to have read many years ago accounts of Crete
and Cyprus which show how these islands were blasted from the
moment they fell into the hands of the Turks. The latter
island, when Mr. Disraeli accomplished his feat of political
legerdemain, was popularly believed in England to be the
acquisition of what lawyers call a damnosa hereditas. Its cli-
mate was compared to that of the Gold Coast, that fatal gov-
ernment which Lord Palmerston used to confer upon his too-
importunate countrymen when he had no longer use for them.
Before the Turks got possession of it the climate was a per-
petual spring. Under the Venetians* it exported corn largely ;
it was importing it up to the time the English protectorate
was established. The population from the beginning of the
sixteenth century to the middle of the nineteenth that is,
during the period under the Turks fell from one million to
thirty thousand. The same awful story of desolation is told
concerning the remaining countries under their dominion ; and,
on the other hand, it is acknowledged that great improvements
in every direction, moral and material, have been effected where
that rule has been actually or virtually removed.

THE DUTY OF A CHRISTIAN PEOPLE.

How far the taking of this Western continent from the
Indians may be justified is not a question that any one would
dream of discussing seriously. Nor even should entering upon
the possession of the territory of savages in Africa, under con-
ditions approved of by a sense of humanity and in accordance
with a spirit of equity, offer much room for difference of
opinion among practical-minded men. But if civilization has
rights, and the correlative of these, duties, in the case of the
red Indian or the African, a fortiori these rights and duties
are of a clearer and loftier character where a rule like that of
Turkey afflicts peoples inheriting the highest historical claims
upon the sympathies of civilized nations. I remember that at
the time of the Franco-Italian war it was said that France
was the only nation that would go to war for an idea. I am
glad that this intense spirit seems to be so naturally credited
to the only great Celtic power in the world ; and strangely

* When the Turks took Cyprus they flayed alive the Venetian governor.

1896.] AND THE CHRISTIANS OF ARMENIA. 299

enough, but quite rightly, does Mr. Gladstone in the Liver-
pool speech point out the course pursued by France with
regard to this very Eastern question, in 1840, as that which
the British Empire should follow in 1896. The application of
this is, that whether or not a great nation like the United
States is to go to war for an idea is one thing ; but it is
another thing whether her people, from the Atlantic to the
Pacific, should not be asked to raise their voices and their
hands to heaven in indignant protest against the continuance
of the existence of the power whose infamies and cruelties in
every land it entered, and during a period of nine centuries, no
pen can describe. It is good for a people to be strongly
moved to pity for suffering and anger at cruelty. An enthu-
siasm in the sacred cause of humanity, no matter how short a
time it lasts, lifts them above petty ambitions, frauds, mean-
nesses, civic jobbery, political trickery, and makes them great and
noble for the time it lasts. Such an emotion sweeping through
the whole social and political life of a country purifies it.
These are the incidents of the moral world that preserve nations
from the death of stagnation and rottenness.

OUR COMMON HUMANITY THE INSPIRATION OF THE CRUSADES.

Such an expression of feeling and opinion on the part of.
America as I am speaking of would beat like white light on
the paleontological methods of European diplomacy. Why the
usages of civilized nations, whose intercourse is based upon a
common honor, common views, modes of thought and manners,
and whose differences are only those of stand-point, should be
practised at Constantinople, no one can understand except he
assumes that the mutual jealousies among the Powers effect
now what their dread of the great sultans did in former times.
But the Sultan no longer threatens Europe. His power has
crumbled from beneath him ; and so he remains in his weak-
ness a Tartar still, as brutal and as foul as if he had just de-
scended upon Europe. No one will seriously assert that the
representative of the President should approach the squaw of
some chief as he would her Majesty the Queen of England ;
that a French ambassador, even if M. Faure's contempt for
etiquette were not in question, should advance in silk stock-
ings, hat under his arm, rapier at an angle of 45, and a bow
at every three steps, into the presence of some black and
powerfully smelling potentate in Central Africa ; yet the squaw
or the negro has more title to respect than Hamid II. I am

300 THE GREAT ASSASSIN [Dec.,

aware that his predecessor was brought into the European
family of nations, so far as her Britannic Majesty could do
it, by sending him the Garter. On this I shall observe that
conferring a great order of Christian knighthood upon this en-
emy of the Christian name, conferring this symbol of chival-
rous purity on the licentious Turk, is one of those freaks of
British Protestantism which show how ill that form of opinion
accords with the traditions and historic reminiscences of Eng-
land.* But, at all events, I do not see what claim Hamid II.
has to be treated as a civilized sovereign when he issues an
order to his ferocious Kurds against the Christians of Arme-
nia in these terms : " Whoever spares man, woman, or child is
disloyal." That the Kurds acquitted themselves of their com-
mission to his perfect satisfaction is known all over Europe
and America so acquitted themselves that while reading one
feels as if under the spell of a nightmare from whose horror
he tries to escape by breaking the chain of sleep. In vain, for
the mind flies to the fire and sword which, in this very century,
reduced the population of Scio from 120,000 to less than 900
souls ; to the Nestorian Christians who had survived the mas-
sacre of their race some fifty years ago hiding in holes and
pits, their pastures forfeited, their cattle driven away, their
villages burned flies to the course of all the centuries back to
the eleventh, during which every species of cruelty and outrage
was inflicted on millions of Christians. No rule of courtesy, no
emotion of pity, no law of human kind, no faith which links
man to man in intercourse, no treaty which binds nation to
nation has influence upon the Turk unless his sinister craft
finds an advantage in simulating a regard for it. He stands
apart from all peoples who have ever been even for a genera-
tion in contact with civilization. The Ishmaelite of humanity,
his robberies and massacres from Togrul Beg, more than eight
centuries ago, to Hamid II. to-day have cost Christendom
countless lives and endless treasure, and his hatred of art and
literature has been the means of losing to civilization capabili-
ties which pass beyond conception.

It is the merest folly and weakness to speak of this Armen-
ian business as a matter to be considered and weighed. When
ambassadors do so they act as ambassadors, and not as men.
Their responsibilities and the absence of power of initiative
explain their reserve ; but the Christian peoples from the British

* I believe that Palmerston was responsible for this. Like most Irish Protestants, he was
very Low Church, and to_ him the religious inheritance meant nothing.

1896.] AND THE CHRISTIANS OF ARMENIA. 301

Isles to Greece, from St. Petersburg to Lisbon, and above all
the Christian people of the United States, are not muzzled like
their representatives, or rather, like their servants. It is noth-
ing short of monstrous that a European sovereign should send
a portrait of his family to the Great Assassin at the very
time when Christian blood was flowing like water ; the honor
of Christian women outraged far and wide over a large extent
of country ; when Christian women were seeking in suicide the
preservation of their honor ; when Christian children of both
sexes were carried off to a fate worse than death, and when
pregnant women were being ripped open in order that the un-
born infants might be impaled on the bayonets of the soldiery.
The ambassador of such a sovereign could hardly be the repre-
sentative of the people, and the potentate who accredited him
would not be likely to regard himself as their servant ; to their
credit be it said, the German people, as we understand, are in
their own name and on their own motion, as men and as Chris-
tians, joining in the protest against that desecration of religion
which compels the ruined wives and daughters of Armenia to
embrace Moslemism, and against that degradation of human
nature which tolerates a power whose history has been one
long-continued outrage on humanity. It is rising like the
storm, this cry of the peoples for justice. Rulers and great
men have been always a stumbling-block. The artisan and the
peasant, fired by pity and horror, left the loom and the plough,
time after time, in the Middle Ages to call upon king and
count to lead them to the Holy Land. As truly as the wise
heart of the people' the sound, uncorrupted heart of the
people said that help to the Christians in the holy places, pro-
tection to them, was the will of God, so truly, though uncon-
sciously, did they strike upon the policy which saved Europe
and the world from the rule which has rendered the most fer-
tile part of the globe a wilderness and touched with sterility
and impotence the intellect of man.

THE FATAL JEALOUSY OF THE POWERS.

Nothing that one can conceive is more appalling than the
contrast between the deadness of the Christian Powers and the
might of the influences calling them to action. Mercy, pity,
wrath, rising to superhuman fury, such as launched the powers
of nature on vindictive missions in the Greek tragedies, ought
to tear the heart of mankind in pieces with rage and scorn,
when in these days of ours, in this light and sweetness of hu-
VOL. LXIV. 20

302 THE GREAT ASSASSIN [Dec.,

manitarianism, this atmosphere of attar of roses called culture,
we hear and know of cruelties that turn the brain giddy and
make the heart faint ; of abominations that ask for a Peter
the Hermit to rouse the nations to do something to deprecate
the justice of God for their complicity in supporting, sustaining,
tolerating this hellish agency in the heart of Christendom.

Long ago more than a century ago this would have been
ended if Russia had been allowed to proceed on the mission
which geographical position pointed out as hers, and which
circumstances have confirmed beyond all question circum-
stances stronger than diplomacy, than jealousy, than intrigue,
than that " friendly alliance ' of upstart vanity and selfish am-
bition which brought together France and England in an alliance
against the Christian faith and our common humanity to sup-
port the determined enemies of both.* It is not of much im-
portance now to enter into that compact so paltry and so
hideous, reminding one of those abnormal follies when un-
limited power plays with men's lives, as it does still in places,
or when it used to destroy great cities for a caprice, as these
very Turks now do and their Tartar kinsmen so often have
done ; but to this iniquity as distinctly as to any other factor
must be referred the massacres in Armenia and those of Ar-
menians in Constantinople.

It has been already suggested that this is not a question
for diplomacy, because the Great Assassin is outside the pale
of civilization. Mr. Gladstone has sounded an alternative note
of great significance in recommending in certain contingencies
the withdrawal of her Majesty's ambassador. This I hold is a
solemn debt due by England to public morality and the Chris-
tian name for the Crimean War.

The folly of keeping representatives at Constantinople on
the part of the Powers is very great. They incur odium, they
can obtain no advantage by interchange of view, because in the
art of lying none can surpass the scoundrels bred by the Turks
for service in administration or in the army. The evasions and
reservations of European diplomatists are after all very much
of the quality of the counters of social intercourse ; they are

* The Crimean War was an English measure, not a French one ; but Napoleon III., in order
to secure the support of a respectable nation to his dynasty, betrayed the hereditary policy of
France. The Irishman, Palmerston, with national liberality, did not care a straw whether
Napoleon was a parvenu or not, provided he could be made useful. He practically bullied
into his views the Prince Consort, who had been thinking he was somebody. Palmerston,
who would not put up with the airs of this German pauper, compelled him to give some ser-
vices for the money spent upon him by behaving civilly to the Emperor and Empress of the
French.

1896.] AND THE CHRISTIANS OF ARMENIA. 303

not intended to deceive so much as to prevent the straining of
relations. Now, with a barbarian as with a savage, a blunt,
downright lie, told with the fearlessness and in the very
accents of truth, is the natural and the most easy way out of a

difficulty.

EASTERN INSENSIBILITY TO TRUTH.

A European gentleman, even though he may come within
the definition of a person sent to lie to a foreign sovereign on
behalf of his own, is still chained by some principles of honor
from which he cannot altogether extricate himself. In this cir-
cumstance the Sublime Porte has an advantage in the quality
and character of its servants. The persons who are to advise
the sovereign, the ambassadors to be sent abroad, and all those
who are to be entrusted with functions of government, would,
in the normal condition of things in Turkey, have been cap-
tives and young children purchased by the sultans and educated
for the purpose. This has been the system from the time of
the Gaznevide dynasty, a period longer than from the Norman
Conquest, and it can easily be seen that persons so trained-
slaves in fact, but always looking forward to the time when
they would be so far masters and independent as to have slaves
of their own, provinces to rule, armies to lead, and a com-
manding influence over three continents to exercise, it can be
easily perceived that such persons would have no idea, in the
European sense, of truth and honor. To believe persons of
this description, as the Powers have been doing for the last
year and a half, concerning the Armenians as well as concern-
ing the atrocities in Crete, and the still earlier but very recent
outrages in the Balkan provinces, would be intelligible if they
had not had long experience of Turkish craft. It really causes
one to lose patience when he hears talk about the manliness
and truthfulness of the Turk, and as a contrast that an Arme-
nian would be a match for ten ^Greeks, and one Greek would
outcheat two Jews. Such stupidities are the staple of English
jingo conversation and the premises of its Eastern policy.

This fatuity has a hold upon the classes to an extent that
one can hardly realize. It is the half-dazed answer of people
without pulse, lotos-eaters to whom service in the army means
that their brothers and cousins shall be quartered in Ireland,
visit Malta, spend awhile in India, and have a brush with
the " niggers ' in South Africa ; but to whom the news means
nothing that hundreds of thousands of men, women, and chil-
dren, because they believed in our Lord, are tortured and slain

304 THE GREAT ASSASSIN [Dec.,

as Eastern barbarians alone could torment and kill those whom
they hate. Speaking to these people, good in their way, kind
as they are, of these events is like talking through a whisper-
ing tube ; there is no interest, no feeling given back ; or rather
-if we could conceive it it is as one speaking to bloodless
men in some shadow-land or land of forms, codes, observances,
where the energy and fire, the hope and fear and hate, the
strength, the passion, and the love which make up the sum of
life, are quenched.

That Turks may be truthful among themselves I do not
deny, nor do I care ; but their untrustworthiness to, and in
respect of their relations with Christians places them outside
the pale of intercourse. The lying and cheating attributed to
the Armenians are beside the question. What faith does the
Mussulman hold himself bound to observe toward Christians?
Suppose the former were what their oppressors say, is not false-
hood unhappily the shield of the oppressed, as cunning is the
defence of the weaker animals in forest and hill ? Shame on
the cowardice which takes the Turk's slander of his victim as
the standard by which his manifold and appalling crimes are
to be tried ; for it is cowardice of the meanest kind, this social
truckling down to the courts of afternoon tea, to the Areopa-
gus where the dukes and dowagers throw rose-water upon mas-
sacre and lust !

Infidel, hog, dog are the names the Turk has for his " Frangi '
patrons; this "gentlemanly Turk," as they called him in Eng-
land when he was blackening the blue sky of Bulgaria with
the smoke of towns and villages, and enacting nameless horrors
everywhere; enacting them in street, in road, in field, in wood,
in house, in church, until the hapless people must have felt, in
the extremity of their fear and shame, as though the solid
earth were sliding from their feet felt that mad craving for
revenge when the " coward's blood is turned to flame." Have
people at tea-tables no hearts ?

THE BUTCHERY IN CONSTANTINOPLE.

This article has already exceeded my allotted space. I in-
tended to mention at some length the account of what an Irish
gentleman, Mr. William Johnson, of Newry, an officer on the
steamship Rameses, witnessed in Constantinople. But he ex-
presses something of his feelings when he says : " I have not heard
how they took the news in England ; . . . but we were ex-
pecting to see the English fleet coming up every morning to blow

1896.] AND THE CHRISTIANS OF ARMENIA. 305

the place to pieces. I would have lent a willing hand, for I never
saw such cruelty. I can only compare the murderers I saw to a
lot of men running after a rat and kicking and stoning it to
death. . . . Every Armenian the Turks saw they killed."
Turkish custom-house officers and other officials were engaged
in this pastime. Another correspondent describes the elaborate
arrangements for a butchery that " lasted three hours " ; and
this in the city in which the European ambassadors were re-
siding in the discharge of duties based on the assumption that
Turkey is a civilized state ! It would be an endless task to
recount what took place in Constantinople ; but it can be in-
ferred that when, in the presence of the representatives of the
Powers, and recollecting that European commerce brings so
many witnesses to the scene, together with the ordinary Euro-
pean residents, that those Armenians were massacred wholesale,
were hunted down like rats, pursued by boats, shot and drowned
in the harbor, and that all this was accompanied by great tu-
mult and noise, the denials of the Porte as to what took place
in distant Armenia can be taken at their proper value.

It may be assumed that no one doubts about those horrors
now. Even the French ambassador has intimated so far as one
can judge that in the opinion of his government and that of the
Powers the action of the Turkish authorities could hardly be
deemed to be technically correct ; and so, with the assurances
of M. Chaubon's most distinguished consideration for the Sub-
lime Porte, I end with the hope that Mr. Gladstone's speech
in Liverpool marks the last stage of the Eastern question in
the region of discussion ; that so far as England is concerned
it starts the policy of justice and humanity in place of a crimi-
nal and cowardly expediency ; and so far as the United States
is concerned, the words of the " old man eloquent ' will be a
living fire to set in flame all that is generous and manly in
the American people.

GENERAL VIEW OF MUNICH FROM THE ISAR.

THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND METZGERSPRUNG

MUNICH.

BY ALGUIEN.

HE usually quiet, silent streets of Munich were
enlivened in a late carnival by the merry band
of Schdffler (coopers), who for nearly four cen-
turies every seven years turn out, dressed in
quaint costumes and with fresh green garlands
in their hands, to perform their picturesque and interesting
dance.

According to popular tradition, the origin of this curious
Schdfflertanz is as follows : In the year 1517 Munich was rav-
aged by a fearful plague, which carried of! hundreds every
day. Desolation and despair reigned throughout the city. So
great was the consternation and horror, and to such an extent
had fear taken possession of the wretched inhabitants' minds,
that they shut themselves up in their houses and would not
venture into the streets. Even when the plague began to
abate they still kept their windows and doors shut, preferring
to die there of hunger and thirst than to go out into the air,
which they considered still impregnated with the deadly breath

1896.] THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND METZGERSPRUNG. 307

of the " black phantom." This last state of misery was worse
than the first.

At last a man, a master-cooper, called together all the
members of his trade to deliberate as to how they could help
their unfortunate fellow-citizens. The butchers of Munich also
came forward and offered their co-operation in the matter.
After much discussion it was arranged between them that they
should try to turn the minds of the unhappy survivors of the
plague from their miseries, and entice them into the streets by
means of public shows and amusements.

One day, in the midst of the universal silence and terror
of this city of the dead, were heard the sounds of merry music
and the tramp of many feet echoing through the so long de-
serted streets. Startled by these unusual sounds, the people
rushed to the windows which had been so long shut and, to
their astonishment, saw, marching gaily along, a troop of men
dressed in bright red jackets, waving fresh green garlands in
their hands in time with the music, while they called to the

PROMENADENPLATZ, MUNICH.

people to open their windows and doors and come out. These
were the Schaffler, and behind them came the Metzger (butchers),
dressed also in bright costumes and mounted on their dray-
horses.

3o8 THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND METZGERSPRUNG. [Dec.,

Curiosity and excitement overcame fear. The plague was
forgotten, and, as if bewitched, the people rushed out into the
streets, and in a kind of paroxysm of mad joy followed the
procession. On arriving at the market-place, then called

Schrannenplatz, now Marienplatz, the coopers danced in a cir-
cle with their green arches, while the butchers' apprentices
leaped into the fountain to prove to the people that the water
was pure and harmless, and not to be feared as poisoned.

1896.] THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND METZGERSPRUNG. 309

After this the plague completely disappeared from the city,
and the inhabitants, free now from their overpowering fear,
thanks to the device of the enterprising coopers and butchers,
resumed their every-day life and occupations.

Every seven years since that time the coopers of Munich
perform their Schafflertanz in commemoration of the event ;
and every three years the butchers' apprentices leap into the
fountain of Marienplatz on Fasching Montag (the Monday be-
fore Lent).

3IO THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND ME TZGER SPRUNG. [Dec.,

Both these curious sights now almost the last remaining of
the many quaint and picturesque customs of old Munich, for
which it was once so famous took place recently.

fpRAUENKIRCHE. LOOKING TOWARD THE ISAR RlVER.

The Schdffler began their dancing on the 6th of January
(twelfth day) and continued it till Shrove Tuesday. They per-
formed before the royal palace for the prince regent, and

before all the other
princes' palaces.
They also danced
opposite the Rath-
/iaus, the houses of
the ministers and
principal magnates
of Munich. But
they must keep in
Munich ; outside
the limits of the
city they are not
allowed to perform.
They receive $
from each royal
personage before
whose palace they
dance, and from
ministers, etc.,

never less than

THE SIEGESTHOR. SIDE VIEW.

was

1896.] THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND ME TZGER SPRUNG. 31!

windows of H. R. H. Prince Ludwig Ferdinand's palace, in
Wittelsbacherplatz, when they danced before that prince and
his family, that I saw it.

The Schaffler, about twenty young men, came marching up
the platz, dressed in close-fitting scarlet jackets trimmed with
silver lace, black velvet knee-breeches, white stockings, and
buckled shoes ; they had little, short leather aprons, one corner
tucked back, tied round the waist with a broad crimson silk
sash, the gold-fringed ends of which hung down at one side.
On their heads they wore green velvet turned-tip caps, adorned
with a tuft of blue
and white feathers,
and carried large
half-arches of fresh
box-trees in their
hands. The musi-
cians followed with
fife and drum, and
another scarlet-coat-
ed individual, who
bore a black and
yellow banner (the
colors of Munich),
with the coopers'
arms a beer-barrel,
with hammer and
nails painted on it.
At the head of the
procession walked
a harlequin (Haus-
wurst), clearing the
way with a long
pole, striped with
blue and white, with a ball and cross at the top.

The musicians stood at one side, while the dancers arranged
themselves in a circle in the centre of the platz, opposite the
palace. The performance began by their all dancing round in
a ring, each holding one end of his own and his neighbor's
arch in his right hand, while his left was placed jauntily at his
side. The harlequin stood with his pole in the centre of the
ring, and the ScJiaffler wound in and out, out and in, in intri-
cate mazes ; but little by little, out of the seemingly hopeless
confusion, they formed with their green arches a huge royal

MAXIMILIAN MONUMENT.

312 THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND METZGERSPRUNG. [Dec.,

crown, of which the centre was the harlequin's cross and ball.
The next figure was an arbor, then a monster beer-barrel,
round which the performers danced, while they tapped it with

I f

r '

******

\ i '

PRINCE LUDWIG'S RESIDENCE.

little hammers, keeping time with the music. Then followed a
variety of figures a wheel, a star, a cross, an enormous bouquet
borne on the twenty dancers' shoulders, and many other fanci-

THE GLYPTOTHEK.

ful and picturesque devices all ingeniously formed out of the
verdant arches. The effect of the lively music and the bright
contrasts of the scarlet jackets and green garlands, as they

1896.] THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND ME TZGER SPRUNG. 313

moved hither and thither in the graceful changes of the dance,
was strikingly pretty and original.

The figures finished, the harlequin brought forward a gay-
looking little barrel, painted blue and white, and two hoops,
also blue and white, with three holes in each, in which were
placed three small glasses of wine. One of the Schdffler jumped
lightly upon the barrel and began to swing about the hoops
from one hand to the other, over his head and under his knees,
in time with the music, without spilling a drop of the wine.
He then took out one of the glasses, and having handed the
hoops to the harlequin, who emptied the others by throwing the
contents on the ground, he drank " Lebe hoch ! ' to Prince Lud-
wig Ferdinand. The swinging of hoops and drinking were

THE PROPYL^EA.

continued until the health of the eight members of the royal
family present had been drunk. After each toast the empty
glass was tossed over the drinker's shoulder and caught behind
by the harlequin in his cap. Then the dancers marched gaily
away as they had come. The Schdfflertanz will be seen no more
in this century. When its seven years come round again it will
be 1900.

The Butcher's Leap (Met zger sprung) took place on the Mon
day before Lent.

They begin their proceedings by attending High Mass in
St. Peter's Church, close to Marienplatz, where the fountain is
situated. In this church one of the oldest in Munich is a

314 THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND METZGERSPRUNG. [Dec.,

curious old allegorical picture of the plague in 1517. The
ground is strewn with dead and dying, fallen beneath the ar-
rows of God's wrath, which the avenging angels are casting
down upon them. God the Father, seated on clouds, is sheath-
ing the sword of punishment at the prayers of Jesus and Mary,
who kneel at either side of him ; round the picture are the
words, " O holy St. Sebastian ! by thy intercession obtain from

HOFBRAUHAUS.

God, for us poor sinners, that we may be delivered from this
awful plague of pestilence. Amen. A. D. 1517."

After High Mass is over, the butchers proceed in solemn
procession to the various royal palaces, which they enter and
go through a very curious ceremony of offering a goblet of
wine (a loving cup) to the princes and their families a tender-
ing of allegiance, as it were, in return for certain privileges of
great importance to the butchers' trade, which are renewed
every three years at the time of the Leap.

The butchers' procession, when they went to offer homage
to their princes, on the carnival Monday, was in the following
order : First came the musicians on foot, then twelve or thir-
teen chubby-faced little boys, the butchers' sons, of from four
to six years old, mounted on their fathers' great dray-horses
and dressed in little scarlet riding-coats, trimmed with gold
braid, top-boots with spurs, green velvet broad-brimmed hats,

1896.] THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND METZGERSPRU NG. 315

turned up at one side with a bunch of flowers, and tied under
the chin with green strings. They wore tiny lace-edged aprons
and gold-fringed crimson sashes, tied round their waists and
hanging down at one side, and carried in their hands little rid-
ing-whips with garlands of flowers twisted round them. Their
fathers (the master-butchers), who walked at the horses' heads,
holding the bridles, wore dress-coats and white gloves, and car-
ried enormous bouquets for presentation to their royal high-
nesses. Behind them rode ten butchers' apprentices (the leapers
of the day), also dressed in scarlet jackets and green hats, fol-
lowed by a number of other master-butchers on foot, wearing
dress-coats. Last of all walked two men in scarlet jackets and
flower-adorned hats, who bore aloft on their shoulders two
huge silver flagons, hung over with large silver medals, coins,
and chains. These flagons are of great antiquity and are most
curious and valuable ; they belong to the butchers' guild.

Arrived at Wittelsbacherplatz, the fathers lifted their children
from the saddles, and all went into the palace, where Prince
and Princess Ludwig Ferdinand, with their three children, and
Prince and Princess Alphonse, were waiting to receive them.

THE SIEGESTHOR.

One of the principal master-butchers, having made a long
speech, presented the loving cup (a very beautiful open-gold
goblet which had been filled with wine from one of the large
flagons) in turn to each of the princes and princesses present,
who just touched it with their lips. Then the bouquets were
presented, and their royal highnesses, having spoken a kind

316 THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND METZGERSPRUNG. [Dec.,

word to all and duly admired the little boys, who stood ranged
round the room, seemingly very proud of their unusual finery,

ROYAL ACADEMY OF FINE ARTS.

the butchers, young and old, took their departure, and the
procession went on to another palace in the same order.

At four o'clock in the afternoon the famous Leap took

ODEONPLATZ.

place. When the procession arrived in Marienplatz, which
was crammed with people, the little boy butchers were carried
through the crowd on their fathers' shoulders, so that they too

1896.] THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND METZGERSPRUNG. 317

might see the fun ; and the ten apprentices, no longer in scarlet
and gold, but covered from head to foot in sheep-skin gar-
ments, all hung over with different-colored calves' tails, came
pushing their way through the densely packed mass of specta-
tors until they reached the fountain, round the stone edge of
which they ranged themselves ready for the plunge. A master-
butcher stood beside them and put them through a series of
questions as to what they wanted ; if they knew what an

HOFKIRCHE. INTERIOR.

honor it was to belong to the ancient, most loyal and honorable
Guild of Butchers ; if they were ready and willing to prove
their courage and show themselves worthy of the privilege they
asked, etc. ; to all of which they answered in proper formula.
Then a basket containing wine and a number of small glasses
was brought, and the master-butcher, having rilled a glass for
each of the shaggy apprentices and one for himself, told them
to drink to the health of H. R. H. the Prince Regent. A loud
" Lebe hock ! ' rang out ; the eleven glasses were emptied at
VOL. LXIV. 21

318 THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND METZGERSPRUNG. [Dec.,

the same moment, and the glasses thrown into the fountain.
More than fifty times this toasting was repeated (fortunately
the glasses were very small, and the wine, it is to be hoped,
not of the strongest quality), until the health of every member

K
o

H- 9

w
55

D
w

of the royal family of Bavaria, young and old, was drunk
(there are forty-seven royal princes and princesses in Munich
alone), besides that of the ministers, mayors, and principal au-
thorities of Munich.

The master-butcher, giving the nearest apprentice a sound-

1896.] THE SCHAFFLERTANZ AND M ETZGERSPRUNG. 319

ing blow on the shoulder, told him and his companions to do
their duty; which they did by jumping, all ten, into the foun-
tain, at the same time, with a tremendous splash, and there
floundering and splashing about. Several baskets of apples and
nuts were emptied out into the small space round the fountain,
which had been kept clear by the police and soldiers from the
invasion of the crowd.

Then began the tug-of-war. The youngsters in the crowd
commenced pushing and squeezing themselves through, scramb-
ling and righting for the apples and nuts, while the ten
monsters in the fountain, catching up the little blue-and-white
buckets, which were there ready to hand, dashed the water
with a will over the shrieking urchins, who one moment fled
before the deluge, to return the next impelled by their over-
whelming desire for the apples and nuts, only to rush scream-
ing away again as another drenching shower greeted their
hardihood.

After this had continued about ten or fifteen minutes, and
the space round the fountain was converted into a lake on
which floated the debris of the apples and nuts, the newly-made
butchers came out of their bath dripping like so many water-
dogs ; a white cloth was tied round their neck, over which
were hung a quantity of silver medals as reward for their
prowess, and the Metzgersprung was over.

320

A BALLAD OF TYRONE.

[Dec.,

A BALLAD OF TYRONE.

BY LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY.

"Tell it over ! "Thus, in twilight,
the old gamekeeper, of gentle
blood,

To the grandchild, teasing, teasing, pink
as the bed-time daisy-bud,

Tells it over : " By the stream once, when I

played alone upon Lady Day,
Where mid-morning found me quiet, with my
drowsy cheek to the pleasant clay,

Sudden opened, round and under, the believed-in

cave on the green hillside !
Thick the darkness, but I saw them: the Earl Hugh's men
that never have died.

" Nine full huadred, nine and ninety (he makes the thousandth

when he comes back) ;
All a-row there lying armored, by horses tawny and pearl and

black :

" All the horses satin-shouldered, with the sheen of the golden

stirrups grand ;
All the troopers drunk with battle, with the bridle in every

mighty hand.

"And the sunburn on their faces was fresh as childhood, and

fierce as death ;
Think: the sunburn got in marches against the demon Elizabeth !

" Next my knee, then, rose a hero ; rose up a little, not loosen-
ing rein ;

Gazing steady, softly said he, and sharply said to me, over
again :

1896.] A BALLAD OF TYRONE. 321

11 ' Is the time come ? Is the time come f ' How it stabbed me

through ! But the Lord is good ;
For the sleep bore down his eyelid. I ran till I reached our

roof in the wood.

" Herald of our chief he thought me, expected ever of his own

kin,
Many salvos yet to waken in these fields without, in that cave

within.

" They have hid there, they have waited, since the Hope went

under, in blood and tears.
Oh, to help them crash around him true Innishowen's unrusted

spears !

" Oh, to help them cheer and follow O'Niall, O'Niall from his

foreign grave !
Oh, to throne thee, saddest, fairest, as once thou wert on the

warless wave !

" Is the time come ? (Long the sorrow, little isle, my love, for

your sake, your sake.)
Is the time come ? Is the time come ? Ah, hush ! No more, or

my heart will break."

Pretty Kathie, closer pressing, into that face in silence peers ;
There they fall, the sunset showers : the far-off, idle, eternal
tears.

322 THE RELATION OF CRIME TO EDUCATION. [Dec.,

THE RELATION OF CRIME TO EDUCATION.

E always find much food for useful cogitation in
the annual reports of the Commissioner of Educa-
tion. In the last one to hand, which is that for
1893-94 (two volumes), we find something more
than the normal amount of interesting matter.
As we glance through the contents of these bulky volumes
of more than two thousand pages we are profoundly impressed
by two cardinal truths. In the first place, we are compelled to
marvel at the laborious patience and skill exhibited in the mar-
shalling of facts and figures regarding the conditions of educa-
tion, not only in all the States of the American Union but
likewise in the leading countries of Europe, the skilful analyses,
the grouping of subjects, the tabulating of figures, and the
thoughtful deductions. And then, when we look into the
matter analytically for ourselves, we cannot help thinking how
largely history is written and legislation enacted on such re-
ports as these, and how largely these reports are nothing more,
the very best of them, than generalization, and very liberal
generalization indeed.

It is expected to be a matter for gratification of course, at
the beginning, that the period covered by the report indicates
a larger percentage of school-goers than in the preceding twelve
months. In every ten thousand heads of the population eighty-
six more were filled with primary and secondary knowledge
than was the case in 1880. We believe in itself that it ought
to be a legitimate subject of satisfaction that more children
now go to school, proportionately, than used to be the case
before, but we cannot find in the general state of the country's
morality any proof of the power of the education they receive
there to make them worthier citizens. Hence we think that
when the Commissioner of Education speaks of the general re-
sults of school training as enabling the citizens to become, as
it were, commercial saints, he uses a little too much couleur dc
rose on his canvas.

Of course we believe that it is the desire of all good people
who wish to get along quietly that in imbibing a knowledge of
ciphers and the mysteries of English grammar, the boys and

1896.] THE RELATION OF CRIME TO EDUCATION. 323

girls who fill the schools should somehow be grounded in the
principles of Christian morality. They have taken care, no
doubt, that no mention of the thing must be made ; but they
want to get the article without specifically naming it. It goes
by various names ethics, morals, culture, and other elastic
titles the unknown quantity in the equation of learning. But,
no matter what it is called, the important question really is,
does this thing fulfil the purpose for which the human mind was
created and the Christian religion instituted ?

With what facility those who are imbued with this idea of
education may delude themselves, we may surmise from the
language of the commissioner himself in his introduction to the
report proper. We confess to some surprise at the unusual
nature of his terminology, as in all previous 'reports there was
no trace of a tendency to fanciful statement or extravagant
metaphor.

Speaking of education in its relation to commercial ex-
change, the commissioner says : " Such process of exchange is
like a sacramental consecration. Each person consumes or
partakes of the product of the world of universal human
society ; each himself contributes to the supply of all others.
. . . Hence each gets more than he gives to the world-
market. It is a sort of living mirror of grace by giving one's
product to the world, one gets in return manifold. Hence this
mediation of one's labor by the aid of the world-market may
be called a sacrament.

" Here is seen the vast significance of the school education
in enabling the citizen who shares in the productions of his
fellow-men to know his fellows and understand their views of
the world. It enables him to know their opinions and to share
in their spiritual as well as their material productions."

It was a painful symptom of the political campaign just
concluded that sacred imagery was sometimes applied to secular
struggles, often to a degree that caused a grievous shock.
When people are accustomed from the days of incipient intel-
ligence to such confusion between things sacred and things
profane, it is not to be wondered at if they show no nice
sense of discrimination, or their highest ideals exhibit a strain
of the sordidness of earth and material gain and loss. The
musical instrument which is neglected and exposed to a chill-
ing atmosphere can hardly be expected long to maintain its
true concert pitch.

In what direction is popular education tending when we

324 THE RELATION OF CRIME TO EDUCATION. [Dec.,

find the things of God and the things of worldly commerce
promiscuously jumbled up, even in the calm atmosphere of
scholarly officialdom ? Where shall we look for reverence-com-
pelling authority when we find press and pulpit applying
similes taken from the most awful mysteries of man's redemp-
tion to illustrate the passing phases of political conflict? It is
this wide-spread spirit of irreverence, whether it proceed from
thoughtlessness or a constitutional defect inherent in our
system of training, which fills the thinking few with the most
serious apprehension regarding the goal whither we are
drifting.

One of the most customary resources of the generalizing
statistician is the juxtaposition of the figures of education and
crime. It is assumed as a certainty that illiteracy and crimi-
nality are affected by education as the fluid in the glass tubes
of a hydraulic elevator by upward or downward movements of
the apparatus.

Education, according to Von Liszt, is the best means of
combating or ameliorating criminal tendencies. Much depends
upon the character of the education relied on. It has not
escaped public attention that some of the great crimes which
have startled society in recent days in this country were per-
petrated by young desperadoes of fairly good education. Petty
crimes are numerous among the most illiterate stratum of the
population ; the daring criminals are to be looked for in the
ranks of those whose worldly instincts and keen mental powers
have been cultivated and perfected in a system wherein rev-
erence for any higher power than that of legal brute force is
sedulously eliminated. Worldly success, according to the preva-
lent ideal, is the be-all and the end-all of human existence.
The religion of humanity furnishes our sacraments, and we
borrow the phrases which pertain to the accessories of the wor-
ship of the Most High to clothe a system of commercial ethics
with a seeming robe of sanctity ! What wonder that the chick-
ens so carefully hatched should in due time come home to
roost ? Of recent years there has been a gradual falling-off in
the amount of ordinary crime in England, and this fact is ac-
counted for by the diffusion of education. Rough-and-ready
reasoning of this sort is utterly fallacious. Serious crime has
not diminished in England. Murders, often of a shockingly
brutal character, are of dreadful frequency there still, and
crimes of other kinds, but little known in other countries,
often make the judges' calendars documents to send a cold

1896.] THE RELATION OF CRIME TO EDUCATION. 32-5

shudder through the reader's system. The gradual falling-off in
the body of smaller crime must rather be attributed to the relax-
ation of the severity of the laws, especially those against trades'
combinations, and the surrender of the central power into the
hands of local authorities, by means of which much* more
liberal provision is being everywhere made for the wants of the
people at large than was possible under the old system of cen-
tralized rule.

The example of France is a much better criterion of the
quality of fruit which mere secular training produces. There
every faddist has had his hand in the formation of the school-
master and the system of the school-house, for more than a
hundred years. An increase in school attendance has not, as
in England, a decrease in prison population to juxtapose it,
but rather an increase. The character of the crimes committed
there attest very frequently the refinement of scientific advance.
Christianity has been pitilessly hunted from the schools only to
give place to demoniac savagery in crime, and a cynical
callousness in its perpetrators which places them often on a
level with the Malays.

A scene which recently took place in a French court oif
justice pointed the moral of this deplorable situation in a way
that ought to be writ in characters of fire. It was during the
course of a trial for murder. The culprit, a young fellow
named Gaudot, only seventeen years old, pleaded guilty, and
his counsel, M. Saint-Appert, pleading in extenuation of his
crime, used these remarkable words :

" Gentlemen, my task is very simple, since the accused
pleads guilty. I cannot defend him, for I see mercy will have
no part in the issue; so I will be brief. But if justice demands
an account of his crime, you will allow me in my turn to de-
mand an account of justice for the decision. What will it be ?
I know not ; but whatever it may be there are those here more
guilty than the accused himself. These I denounce, or rather
these criminals, I accuse them. They are you, gentlemen, who
listen to me you who represent society ; that society which is
forced to punish the outrages its negligence and corruption knew
not how to prevent. (Emotion among the audience.) I see on
the wall before me and bow reverently to Christ on the Cross.
This crucifix is here in your judgment hall, where you cite the
criminal to the bar. Why is it not in the school, there where
the child is called for instruction? Why do you punish under

326 THE RELATION OF CRIME TO EDUCATION. [Dec.,

the eye of God when you form heart and soul without him?
And why must it be that Gaudot should for the first time
meet the God of Golgotha here ? Why were his eyes not
allowed to rest upon him from his bench in the school-room ?
He would doubtless have been able to avoid the bench of
infamy where we see him to-day. Who told him there was a
God a future justice ? Who spoke to him of his soul, of the
respect due to his neighbor, of the love of his fellow-men ?
When did we teach him the law of God : ' Thou shalt not
kill ' ? We left that soul to its evil instincts ; that child grew
like a young beast in the desert, alone, in that society which
is now ready to strike the tiger, when at the proper time it
should have clipped his talons and calmed his ferocity. It is
you, gentlemen, whom I accuse ; you civilized and refined, who
are not barbarians ; you moralists, who lead the full orchestra
of atheism and pornography, and are not surprised that you
are answered by crime and loss. Condemn my client it is
your right ; but I accuse you it is my duty."

We here in the United States are not so theatrical in our
style of illustration, but if we were like the French there is no
lack of cases in our criminal courts to point a moral in equally
impressive ways.

The overwhelming majority of the prisoners in our jails and
penitentiaries have had the intellectual training of the public
schools. Of 1,553 inmates of Sing Sing prison, for instance, in
1890, 1,403 had been taught in the state schools. Many of the
other States of the Union showed also a vast disproportion
between those educated in the public schools and those taught
elsewhere. On the other hand, the small percentage of crimi-
nals who had been brought up at the Roman Catholic parochial
schools was a fact so glaringly brought out in the various
official reports that no attempt has been made to explain it
away. And yet with these eloquent facts staring them in the
face public officials go on year after year smugly dilating on
the benefits of the common-school system, and saying never
a word on its most painfully manifest drawbacks.

It is instructive to note that the turning of the tide in
England in favor of religion in education is concurrent with
the tokens of an awakening in Australasia over the same sub-
ject. In no part of the world did the foes of religious educa-
tion make a deadlier onslaught on both religion and morals in
the school than did banded atheism there. But the public

1896.]

THE RELATION OF CRIME TO EDUCATION.

327

conscience, is at last stirred to action by the alarming condi-
tion of present society and the outlook for the future. Educa-
tionists are beginning to reconsider their position, but they are
naturally slow to recant their opinions or undo what they have
done. They propose to proceed leisurely. The device of an
''educational referendum' has been resorted to in South Aus-
tralia, the agency being a ballot paper with blanks for the fol-
lowing questions :

" i. Are you in favor of the continuance of the present sys-
tem of education in state schools ?

" 2. Are you in favor of the introduction of Scriptural in-
struction in the state schools during schools hours?

"3. Are you in favor of the payment of a capitation grant
to denominational schools for secular results ? '

Much interest attaches to the outcome of this novel device,
for educational matters in South Australia have reached the
stage of crisis. But while we await the result there we must
carefully watch the phases of this same question at home.
We cannot overlook the important bearing which the official
Reports have upon this subject. Hence, while we accord our
admiration unstintedly to these Reports, as a herculean literary
service in their luminosity, order, and analytical processes, we
cannot shut our eyes to their omissions. We believe they
should present the negative side of the picture as well as the
positive, and show the world what the people of this country
lose by the maintenance of the public-school system as it is,
as well as what it profits.

328 " PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES" [Dec.,

"PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES."

BY MARION AMES TAGGART.

'HE warm sun of October shone through half-
bare branches upon three young men walking
affectionately arm-in-arm through the drifting
dead leaves upon the sidewalk, while bits of
golden and red splendor floated slowly down-
ward in the hazy air.

All their life these three, Martin Kane, Mike Flynn, and
Joseph Gericke, had walked in loving comradeship, and now the
two former were accompanying their friend to the station to
see him off upon the journey to the seminary which closed the
doors of boyhood upon him and opened the first chapter of
manhood's drama.

It had been understood from the beginning that Joe was to
be a priest ; long before he could understand the words he had
heard himself alluded to as one. His father had died before
he was born, and his mother had prayed that she might bear a
son to the priesthood. The first part of her petition had been
granted ; she took it as an indication that the rest was to fol-
low when the baby, growing old enough to look at pictures,
showed a predilection for pious ones. Although the boy liked
to frolic and use his strong muscles, he was a grave child, not
given to much speaking, and early began to make solitary
visits to the church, praying devoutly before the different shrines,
or sitting quietly looking up at the arches, thinking solemn
thoughts, if his face was an index, for they were rarely told.

Many children are by nature pious, more especially the
thoughtful ones, and in every way the tendency was fostered in
Joe by his devout mother. His books of adventure were the
stories of the saints ; his recreations to be taken on little
journeys to see a new church or convent. He was " the little
priest ' to all the neighborhood, and Mrs. Kane and Mrs.
Flynn compared him to Martin and Mike to the latter's dis-
advantage, whom they privately considered more desirable as
like other boys, Joe being exceptional and " just chosen-
like."

When Joe had made his First Communion his mother used

1896.] " PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES." 329

to say, with tears of joy, that nothing could keep the boy from
serving Mass, neither bad weather nor fatigue, and Joe's
vocation was as good as assured. To be sure he made the six
Sundays of Saint Aloysius to ascertain it truly ; but they were
made without any doubt on the boy's part of his true calling,
and he prayed to know the right as well-fed people pray to be
given their daily bread very different prayers from those with
souls in travail or bodies famishing.

Joe's uncle was to educate him, and there was no trouble
as to means when the time came for him to enter the semi-
nary. His quiet life had flowed to this end as surely as rivers
to the sea. Joe was chosen ; Joe had not been called upon to
choose. He had been set apart quietly from his birth, and had
never in his short life had any temptations of his age, nor
strong experiences that make a man.

And now, as the train pulled slowly out of the station, Joe,
looking back and seeing his mother's tearful, smiling face, and
Martin with his little sister Rose, and Mike Flynn, all four
young people waving good-by with faces full of the sorrow of
the first break in their quartette of life-long intimacy, he felt
the inevitable pamg which comes with a conscious step away
from an old life, though the step be forward.

The first act of the young priest, Father Joseph Gericke,
after his ordination, was to marry the playfellows of his youth-
ful days, now introduced to him as Mr. Michael Flynn and Miss
Rose Kane. They had delayed the ceremony that he might
perform it.

Father Gericke left the seminary well versed in theology,
and what oar Scotch cousins call the humanities, but ignorant
as a child of the great world knowing humanity only through
book-learned theories, and himself not at all. Six months after
his ordination he was sent to take charge of a parish in a little
town not far from the city. He was chosen partly because of
his gravity of character beyond his years, an-d partly because the
need of priests was very pressing. Father Gericke's church was
called Our Lady of Peace, built by a Southern priest at the
close of the war hence its odd name. It was appropriate ; the
building was simple, tasteful, with an air of calmness as it looked
out from its surrounding great trees. The rectory was spotless
in white paint, and Father Gericke felt as he sat on his little
piazza, gazing down the quiet street through the thick honey-
suckle vines, that the only drawback to his happiness was that
but half of his mother's desire was fulfilled ; she had lived to

330 " PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES:' [Dec,,

see his ordination, but had died two months after it, and she
would never keep house for him, as they had dreamed in his
boyhood she would do when he was a priest. But old, deaf
Ann, who looked after him, was a faithful soul, and suffered
no dust to settle on his books, nor allowed deficiency in his
welfare.

The town was a typical suburban place, with its one business
street, its few shops, two banks and post-office, and its dwelling
streets, parallel and at right angles to the main one. It was a
place that succeeded in being pretty in spite of the uniformity
or startling eccentricities of the houses ; the sort of place in
which a young priest thinks he could be happy for ever, and in
which at the end of ten years he is very apt to find life insup-
portable.

Catholicity was represented by the domestics, gardeners, and
coachmen of the residents, and a few thrifty mechanics' families
at the upper end of the town, near the three small factories.
The wealth of the congregation lay in the hands of a retired
brewer and two or three shoddy people from the city ; and
was sometimes increased by an occasional summer tenant, who
stayed too short a time to affect the parish priest's life. Com-
panionship of any true kind there was none, nor culture. To
be sure, there was a lady who had found her way into the
Catholic Church under the unfavorable circumstances of her
surroundings ; she was a Mrs. Meredith, and lived " up on the
hill." Father Gericke saw broad intelligence and high breeding
in her sad face, framed by her gray hair and widow's veil, which
looked at him from the front pew when he preached, but he
did not know her ; he understood that she depended for her
spiritual nourishment on the Jesuits in the city.

But he was too engrossed in his first charge to discover
any drawbacks at first. He came with enthusiastic plans for
founding a parish library and young men's lyceum. He felt
sure that he should succeed in this as soon as he pointed out
its advantages ; but though the girls all told him that a library
would be " lovely," the boys said they " guessed they could
get along without a lyceum," yet neither took the first step
toward fulfilling his plans.

The older people overlooked his youth, respecting his good-
ness and his office ; but the young people were lawless, and
neither character nor office seemed to impress them. He
preached long, seminarian sermons with much zeal and gravity,
discoursing on ancient history, early Christians and early

1896.] " PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES." 331

heretics, taking no small pleasure in sonorous sentences, all of
which the older people heard patiently, feeling sure that it was
good for them, if obscure, while the younger ones fidgeted.
Mrs. Meredith listening in her front pew, her keen eyes calmly
observant of life and those who lived it, as one who had
passed beyond its power, thought tenderly of the lessons which
her youthful pastor had to learn, and prayed a little prayer for
the chiseling of his soul.

Father Gericke was entering the second year of his pastor-
ate ; a year and a half had passed since his ordination. He
had won his place among his people ; a strike and hunger
among the factory hands had given him his opportunity to
draw near them in suffering, and here and there was a soul
whom he knew leaned on him for counsel. Already the
seminary note was disappearing from his sermons ; he began to
preach as one awakening, to whom life was getting less theo-
retical and more real. Into his face also a subtle change was
creeping ; he looked older, stronger, but a line began to en-
grave itself between his eyes, and a look of unrest to steal
into them.

Mrs. Meredith watched him from afar. " He is learning
that he is an individual," she thought. " His soul is being
born. All birth is through pain ; I wonder what form the strug-
gle will take in him."

Father Joseph wondered vaguely at himself. He thought
that he had never lived till now. He had been a good child
only a child ; his mind had matured, his character remained
unchanged from his babyhood, it seemed to him. He hardly
dared formulate in his thoughts the feeling that haunted him.
How had he become a priest ? From choice ? From a direct
call from Heaven ? He had been moulded ; his orderly goodness
of nature mistaken for sanctity, he was a priest because others
had willed it, and he had ignorantly acquiesced. Was it a
mistake ? The thought sent the cold sweat out on his brow.
There was nothing else that he wanted, but he began dimly to
see that was not enough. A true priest should choose and be
chosen, not formed by loving but mistaken friends. At times
he felt that he was a failure, and could never finish his task ;
an unrest filled him.

At this time he preached his sermon on " Waiting on the
Lord," a sermon that made Mrs. Meredith sit erect in her pew
in anxious surprise. Discouragement, almost despair, was upon
Father Gericke as he sat in his study, eyeing half enviously

332 " PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES" [Dec.,

his cat, AH Baba, so called because of a thieving propensity,
who lay blinking in the sunshine in utter content.

Old Ann came up, announcing a lady to see him a
stranger, she said, whose name she was too deaf to catch.
Father Gericke went down.

"Why, Rose!' he cried as he opened the door. "You
here?"

" O Joe ! Father Gericke what ought I to call you? yes, I
am here, and I'm so wretched," said Rose, bursting into tears.

"Why, Rose, my poor, dear little sister Rose," said the
priest, shocked at the change he saw in her. " What has hap-
pened ? I thought that you were so happy. Is it the baby?'

"The baby? No, he's all right; only if I could I'd wish
that I'd never had a baby," the poor child gasped. " Father
Joseph, help me ; tell me what I am to do."

"Is it Mike?' asked Father Joseph, sitting down by her
and gently stroking her arm. " Tell me, Rosey ; don't cry so.
I can't help you if you don't tell me."

"Oh! I'm going to tell you," the girl answered, making a
brave effort. " I came all the way out here to tell you.
You're my brother more my brother than even Mart ; and
now you're a priest besides. Yes, it's Mike."

"Not unkind to you, Rosey?' said Father Gericke, his old
distrust rushing" over him.

" Yes, he's unkind to me ; he's tired of me, and and he
likes some one else better."

Father Joseph uttered an ejaculation. Rose nodded speech-
lessly.

" He drinks, Father Joseph, and sometimes he's gone all
night; and never does he come home until midnight. I don't
know which is worse ; for if he comes home, he comes drunk,
and I know he's been there."

"Who ils she, Rose dear?' asked Father Joseph, his face
pale with pity and indignation.

"She's no one at all with any name or decency; but he's
pleased for awhile it won't last," added the girl scornfully.
"See here, Father Joseph," she said suddenly and sharply;
" I ask you as my brother, and a priest, how much a woman
ought to stand ? I'm heart-broken and degraded, and my baby
has got to grow up to see such sin, and maybe inherit drunk-
enness; or if he don't, I might have more children, and Mike
is growing worse, so most likely they would. How much, I
say, ought a woman to stand?'

1896.] " PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES." 333

Father Joseph did not answer directly ; he hardly knew the
desperate woman before him for gentle little Rose.

"You must try to save him, Rose," he said. "You loved
him when you married him ? '

" Loved him ! I loved the boy I'd grown up with, and I
thought I loved the man," she said quickly. " What did I
know? What do we any of us know when we choose? I just
drifted on, and I loved Mike because I'd grown up to love
him ; I married him because I'd always heard folks say that
Mike and I were made for each other Why do you think we
do the most important things in our life ignorantly, and when
we are too young to choose, before we can know what we
want ? I tell you people make our lives for us, and it's just
God's mercy if they turn out right."

Father Gericke shrank from her words ; it was as if his own
childhood, which Rose represented, took voice to utter his
secret thought.

"Have you pleaded with Mike, Rose?' he asked.

" Pleaded with him ! ' she echoed. " Do you think he cares?
I've begged him on my knees, by all our childhood days and
his fear of God, to be true to baby and me. But he never
goes to church now, and he doesn't care for childhood. When
I tell him how helpless I am, and how I've trusted him, he
laughs at me. Mike can be very cruel."

" I always knew it," said Father Joseph involuntarily.
"And Mrs. Flynn, and the girls, Rose?" he asked. "What
do they say to all this ? '

Rose looked up. " Didn't you know the Flynn girls had
been getting fashionable ? ' she asked simply. " They say they
can't help me. They say it's all my fault, because I'm not
accomplished and I don't dress well. Mrs. Flynn says it's bad
enough to see her only boy's life spoiled without my carrying
complaints to her. She says Mike wouldn't have gone wrong
only I bore him, and she's heartily sorry for him. Then
the girls come in- and here, in spite of the tragedy, Rose's
Celtic blood asserted itself in a twinkle of the eyes that could
not help seeing the humorous side "the girls come in, and they
shake hands high up near their boas, and they say, ' How d' do,
Rose ?' And then they beg me not to talk of horrid things, and
sigh ' Poor Mike ! ' And after that they talk of the Horse Show
and where they are going for the summer, and ask me if I mean
to go to the mountains or the sea-shore, when well they know
Mike doesn't give me enough money to stay at home honestly."
VOL. LXIV. 22

334 " PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES:' [Dec.,

" How cruel, and how foolish !" murmured Father Gericke ; he
had propped his head in his hands, and was listening sorrowfully.

" Can't Mart help you, Rose ? "

" He tried, but Mike only got angry. He doesn't care for
any one but you ; maybe he'll listen to you. Must I bear it,
Father Joseph ? "

" Until you have tried all means you must, Rose," answered
poor Father Joseph. " It tears my heart to send my dear little
sister back to such a man, but you made a vow, and you must
try to keep it. If he is going to continue in the life he is
leading, then you must think of the children, and do your best
for them. In the meantime I'll see Mike, and try what I can
do with him. Would you be willing to come out here to live ? '

"Willing? O Father Joseph, dear, if only he could be
taken away from all that bad influence ! ' cried Rose.

" Well, we'll see," he said hopefully. " Now come with me.
Let Ann give you water to bathe your eyes, and she'll make
us a cup of tea, and we'll see if we can pull through."

She put her lips to his hand gratefully. " You are a good
priest, and a good man, and a good brother," she said, her
breath catching in a sob. " And if ever you can save a young
thing from deciding her life before she knows what life is, do
it for my sake. Don't let any kind mother form her child into
anything, even a religious. God should choose us each for
the work that he wants us to do. There is nothing so dread-
ful as to act from insufficient motive."

Father Joseph looked at her ; a pain that was not for her
clutched his heart, and with it came wonder at such wisdom
from little Rose.

Father Gericke succeeded in working a kind of miracle, by
what means it was not known, for no one was present at his
interview with Mike. No one else in the world had the influence
over the weak and wayward nature which his old playmate
had acquired, largely owing to Father Gericke's native integ-
rity and strength, a little to his priesthood, and not a little to
the fact that Mike had always been conscious of his contempt ;
for Mike had the cur nature that fawns to the whip. By
whatever means he brought it about, his miracle was well
wrought. Mike consented to move into the country, and, in
spite of his mother and sisters, Father Gericke succeeded by
sheer force of will and right in establishing Mike and Rose in
a little white house in his parish, to which, so far, Mike had
returned at night with exemplary regularity.

1 896.] " PEA CE HA TH HER Vic TOR IE s" 335

It was even a harder task than saving the sinner, who had not
enough force in going wrong to ever go strongly right, to recon-
cile poor little outraged Rose to the role of patient, loving wife.

The marriage made upon the motive of childish love, and
the influence of circumstances, had not sufficient foundation to
bear the severe strain to which it had been subjected. It is
fatal when a woman loses respect and confidence ; even great
sin sometimes does not destroy that.

" It is all very well, Father Joseph, to hold up St. Monica
to me," Rose said. " But she knew that her son was a great
man, even though he was a wicked one. Mike will only sneak
into sin, and he will never see that he has done much harm.
If I work for ever I can only get him to happen into heaven ;
and if he was lost, he'd only stroll into hell as if he thought
that he'd look around a bit."

." Never you mind that, Rose," responded Father Joseph,
though he had hard work not to smile. " That's only another
way of saying you married a weak character ; but, weak or
strong, he is your husband, and if you do not help him you
are not only weaker than he, but more wicked, because you
could be strong."

Altogether Father Gericke had his hands full, and yet in
the work which took his best effort he was not happy. Cer-
tain words that Rose had uttered in her grief haunted him.
" Nothing is so dreadful as to act from insufficient motive."
" Do not let any kind mother form her child into anything,
even a religious." " God should choose us each for the work
which he wants us to do."

There it was : God had not chosen him ; his mother had
formed him ; he was not called to the priesthood. The burden
grew insupportable. Nothing else, no other life invited him ;
but a vague longing to get away, to escape from himself and
his environment, consumed him. Out that was the one
thought, to get out into the big world, where he could see all
around him. Perhaps then he would have chosen to be a
priest after all ; but had he become one from insufficient mo-
tive? He could not cease to be a priest; that was monstrous,
but his consecration was like a chain, not a crown gladly worn.
If he could but get away ! The only course that he could
think of was to enter a monastery, and there fight out the
battle ; when he was at peace he could return to his post.
He did not realize until long afterward how thankful he had
to be for the balanced nature with which he was born, the

336 "PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES." [Dec.,

natural goodness which he almost hated as the mistaken sign
of his vocation. But he saw that others, morally less strongly
poised than he, situated as he was would almost certainly fall
into wrong, and even his partial knowledge of the danger in-
creased his impatience at the mistaken piety of parents who
over-cultivate a vocation, and inflict upon the world a ruined
life, upon the church a possible scandal.

His confessor, the wise old bishop upon whom he had
leaned, was in Rome ; his German reticence held his tongue,
and he struggled on alone. One Sunday he preached upon
the subject in his thoughts ; it was not an address of a young
seminarian, but an impassioned warning to good mothers to
leave God's grace alone, and let their children obey rather the
inner calling than push them along in a path in which they
are not led. " Nothing is of any use except in doing that
for which it was made. You women think it is a noble thing
to say : My son, the priest. Be content to say : My son, the
good man ; and leave all else to God."

Mrs. Meredith listened with her soul as well as her ears.
She heard all that he did not say, and guessed that he was
undergoing a struggle that had nearly reached the climax.
She could not know that he had made up his mind to quit his
post for a monastery in ten days ; but she recognized his
strength for good or ill, and longed, as one who had known
what it was to battle, to hold out her hand to the young soldier.
The next day old Ann brought Father Gericke Mrs. Mere-
dith's card ; they had only a slight acquaintance, and he won-
dered, as he descended, what had brought her to him.

" I wanted to consult you on a little matter of charity,"
she said, smiling out of her peaceful face into his stormy one.
He found himself soothed at once by her softly modulated
voice. Mrs. Meredith had not lived for nearly seventy years
without learning her power over human souls. She was the
rare woman, with a man's breadth of view combined with all
a woman's love and charm. She had fought a brave fight and
conquered ; no one ever came within her reach who had not
been influenced by her strength, her sweetness, and the subtle
spell which, for lack of a better name, we call atmosphere.

After she had settled with Father Gericke the question that
formed her pretext for coming, she spoke of yesterday's sermon.
How it happened he never knew, but Father Gericke found
himself going from a generalization of the subject into passion-
ate personal allusions confessions would be the better word.

1896.] " PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES." 337

Mrs. Meredith knew how it had happened ; she judged right-
ly that the young soul was longing for sympathy ; the crisis had
come, and to her wonderful tact, comprehension, tenderness he
was opening his wounds.

"And if God did not choose you for his priest, and if it
was a mistake, can you not choose him now ? Can you not
make him let you serve him, and turn possible defeat into
glorious victory?' she said, her sweet voice flowing around his
strong German bass and interrupting his outburst. Father
Gericke paused. " It was not your fault if a mistake was
made," she continued, " nor are you sure that it was a mistake.
You only drifted half-awake, and you always desired the right.
God should choose, it is true ; but I think he also likes to be
chosen. Choose him ; compel his help to serve him where you
are ; you cannot go elsewhere without violating a trust. Look
at these people who need you, the number that lean upon you to
whom your going away, even to a monastery, would be a certain
shock. I did not think that you were a coward, Father Gericke."

He started indignantly. "A coward?' he repeated.

"Ay, a coward," she said, laying her hand on his cassock
gently. " I am an old woman ; my son would be ten years
your senior had he lived ; let me be honest with you. There is
cowardice in flight ; your post is here, you must fight here where
your commander placed you. Think of your people. I say
again, if you imagine God has not chosen you for the priesthood,
choose him. Be you Jacob, and wrestle with him. God likes to
have his blessing compelled. Lay hold now, and wrestle till you
win. No one ever attained any but fictitious peace in shirking.

"May I tell you my story? I was married by my parents,
much as you became a priest, to my cousin. I liked him ; I
thought that I loved him because every one said that I did,
and I had been brought up with no other end in view but to
love him. Marriage transforms a young girl into a woman. I
realized soon that my life was a hideous mistake. My husband
was heartless, but always respectful ; he was too icily well-bred
to do anything unbecoming his birth and breeding. I grew to
loathe him, and he knew it ; he punished me by being devoted
to me, until I thought that I should go mad. There is nothing
so horrible to a woman who deserves the name as such a union.

"And temptation came it . always does; frequently, as in
my case, in the form of an angel. I saw the man whom I
should have married, and awoke to a knowledge of what love
was, and marriage might be.

338 " PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES." [Dec.,

"How can I ever be thankful enough for my moral sense?
I had no supernatural help then. This was very different from
being merely unsatisfied ; I knew what I wanted, and I wanted
it in every fibre of my being. More than that, it looked holy
and lovely, and my marriage false to every law of God and
man. But in the midst of my pain and bewilderment some-
thing that must have been a blind, inherited sense of right
woke up in me. I lay one day prone upon my face in the
forest; all the world seemed annihilated, and my stripped soul
alone with the great soul of the universe. 'My God!' I said,
* I have never known you, and it could not be your will that
such a lie as my life should be lived. But you let me become
this man's wife, and so you must help me fulfil the law, and
by your help perhaps I can make it your law.' I lay there
struggling for hours, till I was exhausted and seemed to gain
strength from the exhaustion. Peace fell upon me. I rose up
sick in body, but strong in mind. I never saw the man I
loved again. He was the best man that I ever knew and he
never guessed that I loved him. He died within two years, and
I was able to let him die unknowing. My children were born
and they died. For years I bore my burden, until it grew
lighter ; and when I closed my husband's eyes I felt that I
had fulfilled my duty, and won victory.

"Do I look like an unhappy woman now? No; nor am I.
Peace is mine ; better than happiness, for happiness does not
endure, and peace is eternal. My task was harder than yours,
and I am a weak woman. Can you not stand at your post,
and carve your vocation out, if you think it ,has not been
freely given ? '

" I can try, madam," said Father Gericke simply.

Mrs. Meredith gathered her veil in one hand, and held out
the other. It was the left, and was ungloved ; a thin, delicate,
old lady's hand, with prominent veins and slender fingers, on
one of which she wore her wedding ring, badge of victory to her,
that should have been pledge of love eternal. "You will forgive
an old woman's freedom ? " she said. " I rarely speak of my life."

" Dear madam, I am humbly grateful," said Father Joseph,
kissing the gentle hand, which patted his as his mother's might
have done.

Too wise to spoil her morning's work by another word, Mrs.
Meredith hastened away.

All that night old Ann felt the jarring of Father Gericke's
heavy tread to and fro across his chamber floor. " It is not

1896.] " PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES." 339

only a bad conscience that makes a bad sleeper then," thought
the old woman, turning to resume her own disturbed slumbers.

The rain had set in toward sunset, and the wind whistled
around the shutters and howled in the chimney. Father Ge-
ricke was unconscious of the storm ; he had a war to wage
with himself which shut out all sounds from without. A
coward and unfaithful to a trust ! Could one sink so low,
and yet commit no sin ? Mrs. Meredith had shown him his
course in a new light ; he was struggling to choose so strong-
ly, and finally that he should be a priest indeed, and for al-
ways, with an anointing of invisible chrism. He took the key
of the church, and went to finish his struggle alone in the
darkness and solitude, while the wind and rain beat against the
long windows, and the bells jarred in the tower.

Morning crept in, gray and cold, and saw him prone before
the altar, where, like a young knight of old, he had kept his
vigil before entering the combat. Rising up to meet the light,
he showed a face white and tired but at peace, the stamp of
strength and victory upon his brow.

The storm raged with ever-increasing fury, and Father Ge-
ricke shut himself into his study to work out his sermon for
the coming Sunday. He felt moved to teach his new know-
ledge, for out of the depths of a profound struggle he had
brought a comprehension that seemed to embrace all of life.

He had fallen asleep in his chair toward night, worn out by
watching and pain, when he was aroused by a loud knocking
upon his door. It was quite dark, and he groped his way,
dazed with slumber, to answer the summons. The light in the
hall blinded him, falling strongly upon a woman's figure, a
shawl drawn over her head, her garments dripping.

" Rose ? ' he asked, in doubtful surprise.

" Father Joseph, Mike's gone wrong again," gasped Rose,
clutching his cassock. " He's been drinking, and he's gone up the
road to the Dew Drop Inn. Save him ! ' The Dew Drop Inn was
a notorious place of resort, the curse of the mechanics' families
at the end of the town. Father Gericke was instantly fully awake.

" I'll go after him ; I'll bring him back ; don't fear, Rose.
Go home and get dry ; I'll see to Mike," he said. The poor
thing hurried away, murmuring incoherent blessings, and Father
Gericke prepared to face the storm.

A rough coat and an old felt hat, that did away with the
necessity for the umbrella which he could not have carried in
any case, and high rubber boots complete his outfit ; and put-

340 " PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES." [Dec.,

ting his head down into the wind, he fought his way up the
street, half enjoying the contest, and the chance so soon offered
to do real work. It was a mile up the road that he overtook
Mike, whose previous hours had not been spent in such a way
as to make him a rapid or steady walker.

" How are you, Mike?' said the priest, touching his arm.

" Who're you?' hiccoughed the tipsy young fellow; then
recognizing him, added: "The devil!'

" No, not exactly," replied Father Gericke coolly. "I've
come to take you away from him."

"I'll not be in'erfered with," asserted Mike, trying to stand
on his dignity, and finding it difficult to stand at all. " Had too
much your in'erference. Go home, go home, an' say prayers."

" Come along with me, Mike," said his old playfellow.
" Come home to Rose and the baby."

" Wha', wha' you s'pose I care for er baby?' demanded
Mike. " Wha' you s'pose I care f Rose ? Plenty pretty girls.
Rose's fam'ly got no shoshul p'sition."

Father Gericke felt his fingers tingle with a desire to box
the ears of the boy who had grown up with him and Rose, as
he heard him repeating in his maudlin way the nonsense he
had learned from his mother and sisters. " Yes, a nice social
position they've brought you to, you poor wretch ! ' he said ;
"drunk in the highway. I say come home, Mike, and get
sober." He took the young man's arm by an unfortunate im-
pulse, for Mike would not stand anything like coercion.

"Lemme 'lone; I'm goin' to th' inn," he said, struggling.
"Sh! Wha's that noise?"

They both listened. A roaring, like a river enraged, seemed
drawing nearer.

He drew Father Gericke to the side of the road in his
writhing, and as they struggled suddenly the ground gave way
beneath their feet, and they were plunged into a stream that
swept them away in a mighty current. " Mike's too drunk to
swim, and I in my rubber boots ! ' was Father Gericke's first
thought ; then he grasped Mike by the hair, seized his collar
and righted him somehow.

"What's this?' gasped Mike, sobered by his plunge and
terror. "Am I so drunk as this? This is a queer road. Am
I dead ? You wouldn't be in hell too, Joe."

" The dam is burst," said Father Gericke, realizing the
situation. "Don't talk; help me."

" Can't swim," murmured Mike.

1896.] " PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES" 341

Father Gericke's heart sank. Putting his left arm around
Mike's shoulders, he tried to swim a little with his right ; but
the current swept them onward, and they could only wait for
the end. Great pieces of wood struck them, trunks of up-
rooted trees whirled by them ; cows and sheep passed them
lowing and bleating for help.

By a quick movement of his arm Father Gericke caught a
tree ; he felt Mike sinking, and his own boots, filled with water,
drew him downward. " Here, Mike, catch hold ! ' he shouted ;
but Mike had fainted, struck probably by some passing log.
Holding Mike by the collar, Father Gericke managed to slip
along toward the upper end of the tree, and by a tremendous
effort raise his comrade among the branches, which formed a
network helping support him. They were borne down-stream
with unabated speed, and every moment threatened them with
destruction in several ways. Father Gericke tried to pray, but
he could not control his thoughts. Fragments of the psalms
came to him. "Out of the depths." "A thousand at your
right hand, ten thousand at your left." " The sound of many
waters." All this came and went as in a delirium ; but under the
confusion and pain, above the fear of death, one thought rose
triumphantly. " Now I am a priest from a true vocation. The
hireling fleeth ; the shepherd lays down his life for the sheep."

Mike opened his eyes. "Not over yet, Joe dear?' he said
feebly. Then he roused up. " Now I am a man, Father Jos-
eph. I never was a man till now ; and maybe 'tis only to die
one, but if I do get out of this Rose shall have no more trou-
ble. Hear my confession." And in the blackness of the raging
waters, rushing swiftly toward death, poor weak Mike was shriven.

There was a long silence after that ; then Mike spoke.
" Do you think we've got to the sea we've travelled a long
way?' Even in death, and his real contrition, Mike was the
old Mike still. " I've often thought I'd die by whisky, but I
never thought I'd die by water, Father Joseph," he said.

Stiff, bruised, almost fainting, the two young men held on,
Father Joseph supporting Mike with his left hand, for his arm
seemed to be broken by the blow that had sent him into un-
consciousness.

"Not much longer, not many minutes more," thought Father
Gericke, feeling his strength nearly exhausted, when the tree
that held them whirled around rapidly, then drifted slowly on
and stopped. Reaching out his hand, Mike felt a bank and
sobbed aloud. "Thank God!" he gasped, "it's blessed mud I

34 2 " PEACE HATH HER VICTORIES:' [Dec.

touched, and we're not at sea." But Father Gericke could not
speak. " God did not choose me for his priest, but he has let
me choose him. He has let me live to serve him. Now I am
a priest indeed, and this is my anointing."

Unconsciousness seized him and he knew no more. When
he recovered he was in a comfortable bed, hot bricks at his
side, and a big German was smoking and watching him anx-
iously. As he opened his eyes the man arose and placed a glass
of steaming liquid to his lips.

"Trink it," he said. "I am a farmer; you are safe, and ven
you are like it you can go home once again. De tarn purst
off your vactories, you peen garried many miles py der sthream.
I don't like der briests much mineselluf; I am a free t'inker,
und I pelief briests are nonsense ; but der Irishman he haf
doldt me how you dhry to safe him ven he vas so trunk, und
you holdt him all der vay in der vater oop, und I say you von
prafe man, und dat iss peing ein goot man ; und your vater
und ihre mutter dey vas Cherman like mineselluf, und I put
you in meine's bedt, und I say I am broudt to shake you py
der handt." Which he did with much gravity.

Father Gericke and Mike had a triumphal entry into their
own town on their return, and all denominations united to do
honor to him who, to quote the local paper, " shed the reful-
gence of his sanctity and courage upon their beautiful town,
the Florence of the western hemisphere."

Dying conversions are proverbially unenduring, unless made
sure by the penitent's decease ; but Mike had seen in the face
of death that which had opened his eyes to his evil ways, and
all the manhood that was in him came up with him to the sur-
face from the depths of the waters. He actually kept his pro-
mise ; Rose had no more trouble, and though little Joseph
Flynn, born a year after the flood, was especially proud of
his godfather, he had no reason to be ashamed of his father.

A white-haired priest serves the little church now ; for years
have flown, and Mrs. Meredith's calm face no longer meets his
eyes from the front pew. Father Gericke will not take a richer
parish ; here where he began he wishes to end, and the whole
community blesses the day that gave him to it.

A tall figure, slightly stooped, makes its way daily through
the quiet streets, followed by benedictions on every side. Calm
eyes, kindly smiling lips, a broad brow, with thick white hair
crowning it this is the face of Father Gericke, fitly the minis-
trant and messenger of Our Lady of Peace.

THE LOVE THAT OVERCOMETH.

" Not I, but Christ in me."
BY JOHN PAUL MAcCORRIE.

NE knocked at the door of the one beloved :
"Who art thou?' came the voice from within.
" It is I," quoth the lover, " aweary of strife,

Soul-sick of the phantom and falsehood of life,
Of its treachery, treason, and sin."
But the voice only sighed, " This house is too small
For thee and for me to dwell in."

One knocked at the door of the one beloved :

" Who art thou?' came the voice from within.
" Thyself" quoth the lover; and seeing his face,
One knew he had suffered and bled for his race ;
And the desert-sand flecking the folds of his hair
Told of scourgings and fastings and vigils and prayer
Endured his beloved one to win.

And the voice came inviting, " My house can hold all
Who are one with myself. Enter in ! '

344 NEW ENGLAND AND [Dec.,

NEW ENGLAND AND THE FORMATION OF

AMERICA.

BY REV. P. O'CALLAGHAN.

'ROFESSOR JOHN FISKE, in his charming book
entitled The Beginnings of New England, has
devoted his first chapter to a dissertation upon
nation-making, the history of which is, as he
rightly says, the political history of the world.
He maintains that there have been three prominent methods of
forming nations. The first was the Oriental method, which is
briefly described as " conquest without incorporation." Accord-
ing to this method savage tribes, after having perhaps united
with such neighbors as had language and customs similar to
their own, subdued other neighbors and made them either their
slaves or their tributaries. The second method is the Roman,
and it is described as " conquest with incorporation but with-
out representation." According to this method people were
conquered, but by degrees they were given the privileges and
rights of Roman citizenship. Although the Roman Empire
failed partly because of the social evils which ate into the
body politic, the principal reason for its overthrow is to be
found in the fact that the world was not ready for a repre-
sentative government, and without representative government
such an empire naturally began to sink into military despotism,
and so reverted to the self-destructive Oriental method of na-
tion-making. The English method is a method of representa-
tive government, whereby the liberty of the individual is pre-
served in the largest union of many interests. The English idea
of nation-making has grown to be the dominant idea of the
modern world. The significance of the Puritan exodus to
America lies in its giving a triumphant impetus to this English
idea by impregnating this new world with the spirit of that
idea, so that " America became equipped as no other nation
had ever been for the task of combining sovereignty with
liberty, indestructible unity of the whole with indestructible
life in the parts."

A FANCIFUL GENESIS.
Although Mr. Fiske goes on to say, very rightly, that the

1896.] THE FORMATION OF AMERICA. 345

legitimate purposes of the historian do not require him to in-
trude into the province of the theologian, and that as historians
" we have nothing to do with the truth or falsity of any system
of doctrine, whether Catholic or Protestant," there is an as-
sumption running through this discourse of his that the cause
of liberty has been in the hands of the enemies of the Catholic
Church, if not throughout the Christian era, certainly ever
since the so-called English method has been in the ascendency.
He traces the Paulicians, who in Greek were called Cathari, or
Puritans, in their course from Armenia into Thrace in the
eighth century. After they had played a considerable part in
the history of the Eastern Empire, he follows them through
the Balkan peninsula into Italy. From thence these " sturdy
heretics," as he calls them, move into Southern France, where
they become the Albigenses. Persecution nearly exterminates
them there ; but in England, where persecution makes only
feeble and spasmodic efforts, the Puritan waxes strong and
becomes the saviour of the cause of liberty in the world.

AN ABSURD CLAIM.

It is a strange fact in the psychological world that honest
men can become so imbued with the spirit of error that their
own statements of its contradictory will not open their mental
vision to the character of the spirit which has laid hold upon
their souls. I shall not here criticise the generalization of the
history of the Puritan as given by Mr. Fiske. And I do not
blame Mr. Fiske for taking as granted the truth of what the
Protestant world has been claiming so stoutly and so persist-
ently and for so long. I wish simply to point out the fact
that he assumes what his own statements of fact show to be an
absurdity. When the Scotchman, Andrew Melville, boldly told
James Stuart that he, though a king, was a subject of Christ's
Kirk, Mr. Fiske is lost in admiration, and though he admits
that the words were " as arrogant as ever fell from priestly
lips," he sees couched in them the assertion of the popular
will against despotic privileges. He even commends, or at least
justifies, the Puritans of the Massachusetts and Connecticut
colonies for insisting on religious uniformity ; he calls attention
to the turbulence which often characterized the Rhode Island
colony, which allowed some measure of reHgious liberty. He
describes most honestly all the intolerance of the Puritan-
gives many examples of it ; he says they would have given up
their enterprise with horror if they had dreamt that they were

346 NEW ENGLAND AND [Dec.,

establishing that Christless rule where every pestilent error and
damnable heresy, as they would put it, could find unrestrained
utterance.

With all this and much more in view it is very hard to see
what Puritanism, or Protestantism as such, has intentionally
done to promote the cause of religious liberty, or any other
kind of liberty, except by the natural consequences of its
selfish endeavor to grasp as much power for itself as possible.
How Protestant attempts at acquiring power to persecute others
is a struggle for the cause of liberty, while Catholic attempts at
keeping that power is religious tyranny, has not been made
clear by Mr. Fiske or any one else.

THE PROVINCE OF RELIGION.

Both Catholics and Protestants, as individuals, have indeed
battled for civil and religious liberty ; but to my mind neither
the Catholic religion nor Protestantism has intentionally pro-
moted what we now understand by religious liberty, and only
indirectly has either one or the other ever built up the cause
of civil liberty. Religion, if it be honest, must esteem itself
the truth, and all which contradicts it, it must regard as false.
It should not be blamed too severely if its zeal to bless all
men with the possession of truth has sometimes tempted it to
overstep the bounds of its own precepts of persuasive gentle-
ness. The chief business of religion has been, and ought to
have been, the saving of men's souls ; and with the changing
forms of governments she has been interested only so far as
they helped her or impeded her in her divine mission. Our
civil liberties and religious liberty, as we now understand these
terms, have grown, sometimes in spite of the opposition of
religion, and sometimes under its encouragement. They have
been plants which have grown like the verdure of a coral reef,
whose seeds have not come from the coral, but which could
not have grown if the polypi had not heaped up their skeletons
to make a foundation for the soil and verdure.

The radical mistake of Mr. Fiske and all those who, like
him, have been more or less under the spell of positivism, has
been in looking upon religion simply as a factor in man's
social and political progress. But the chief purpose of religion
is not to strengthen the social fabric to be either its warp or
its woof. Religion aims to teach man, no matter what may be
his social condition, the road to a better life, and warns him
not to be of this world. Religion inevitably improves man's

1896.] THE FORMATION OF AMERICA. 347

moral character and betters his social condition, but these
effects are only incidental to the great work of saving souls
for a future and everlasting state of development.

RELATIONS OF RELIGION TO CIVIL DEVELOPMENT.

Without these facts clearly in mind, and under spell of
such illusions as come from preconceived and false notions,
even an honest and learned man like Mr. Fiske can look
squarely at the facts and still be unconscious that they are
sign-boards pointing the way to conclusions which may over-
throw his first principles. The method of a nation's formation
is not the ultimate criterion of a nation's progress. The na-
tion is a composite individual, and its true progress must be
estimated by the progress of men's minds and souls. The
form of government of a people may be sometimes an indica-
tion of this growth, but at best it can only be an uncertain
and inadequate standard by which to measure it ; it can never
be the ultimate criterion by which to judge of it.

THE " DARK AGES " MYTH.

The Roman Empire is far more interesting as a providen-
tially formed channel through which Christian influences have
been poured out into the whole world than as a type of civil
government. The English method of nation-making is an apt
enough generalization for the forces at work in the modern
political world, but it is false to imply that religion has been
nothing more than an element in the development of civiliza-
tion. Nations and their governments are built on men and
for men, and are interesting only as they help men to reach
out for ever nobler and higher ideals. They are means, not
ends ; they are incidents in man's progress ; their peculiar form
can never be its ultimate criterion. I protest against Professor
Fiske's assumption that Protestantism has been the champion
of liberty an assumption which deserves attention because
it is a common error and I also take exception to his impli-
cation, which is the view of so many others, that religion, if
not an institution of the state, is chiefly useful as a helpmate
for the state and society in general. Much as I appreciate the
honesty, which prompted him to pay the splendid tribute to
the Catholic Church which may be fitly quoted here, I must
criticise adversely those preconceived notions of his which are
even there expressed. Speaking of the two forces which he re-
gards as the salvation of Europe, and therefore of modern civil-

348 NEW ENGLAND AND [Dec.,

ization, when the Roman Empire was tottering from its internal
weakness, after describing the invasion of the Germanic tribes as
the first of these forces, Mr. Fiske says (chap. i. p. 18) : "The
second was the establishment of the Roman Church, an institu-
tion capable of holding European society together in spite of a
political disintegration that was wide-spread and long continued.
While wave after wave of Germanic colonization poured over
Romanized Europe, breaking down old boundary lines and work-
ing sudden and astonishing changes on the map setting up in
every quarter baronies, dukedoms, and kingdoms fermenting with
vigorous political life ; while for twenty generations this salutary
but wild and dangerous work was going on, there was never
a moment when the imperial sway of Rome was quite set
aside and forgotten ; there was never a time when union of
some sort was not maintained through the dominion which the
church has established over the European mind. When we
consider this great fact in its relation to what went before and
what came after, it is hard to find words fit to express the
debt of gratitude which modern civilization owes to the Roman
Catholic Church. When we think of all the work, big with
promise of the future, that went on in those centuries which
modern writers in their ignorance used once to set apart and
stigmatize as the Dark Ages; when we consider how the seeds
of what is noblest in modern life were then painfully sown up-
on the soil which imperial Rome had prepared ; when we think
of the various works of a Gregory, a Benedict, a Boniface, an
Alfred, a Charlemagne, we feel that there is a sense in which
the most brilliant achievements of pagan antiquity are dwarfed
in comparison with these. No part of history is more full of
human interest than the troubled period in which the powerful
streams of Teutonic life pouring into Roman Europe were
curbed in their destructiveness and guided to noble ends by
the Catholic Church. Out of the interaction between these two
mighty agents has come the political system of the modern
world. The moment when this interaction might have seemed
on the point of reaching a complete and harmonious result was
the glorious thirteenth century, the culminating moment of the
Holy Roman Empire. Then, as in the times of Caesar and
Trajan, there might have seemed to be a union among civilized
men in which the separate life of individuals and localities was
not submerged. In that golden age alike of feudal system, of
empire and of church, there were to be seen the greatest mon-
archs that Christendom has known in fullest sympathy with

1896.] THE FORMATION OF AMERICA. 349

their peoples an Edward I., a St. Louis, a Frederick II. Then
when, in the pontificates of Innocent III. and his successors,
the Roman Church reached its apogee, the religious yearnings
of men sought expression in the sublimest architecture the
world has ever seen. Then Aquinas summed up in his pro-
found speculations the substance of Catholic theology ; and
while the morning twilight of modern science might be dis-
cerned in the treatises of Roger Bacon, while wandering min-
strelsy revealed the treasures of modern speech soon to be
wrought under the hands of Dante and Chaucer into forms of
exquisite beauty, the sacred fervor of the apostolic ages found
itself renewed in the tender and mystic piety of St. Francis of
Assisi. It was a wonderful time, but after all less remarkable
as the culmination of the mediaeval empire and mediaeval church
than as the dawning of the new era in which we live to-day,
and in which the development of human society proceeds in
accordance with more potent methods than those devised by
the genius of Pagan or Christian Rome."

Is it not strange that an honest man may look at the facts
of history so honestly and yet not see that they are, as I have
said, sign-boards which point to conclusions quite different from
the path into which his prejudice has led him ?

A LAME AND IMPOTENT CONCLUSION.

When, might I ask, did the strong hand of the church, which
led our fathers out of barbarism, lose its cunning ? If she
could work such wonders in the green wood yes, and turn the
dry into the marvels of the thirteenth century what might she
not have done in these days of ours if her progress, which has
been from the beginning the progress of the highest Christian
civilization, had not been impeded, put back at least a century,
by the monster iniquity of the so-called Reformation ? What
are those methods which Mr. Fiske says are more "potent
than those devised by pagan or Christian Rome ' for the de-
velopment of human society ? Are they not the imitations of
the old methods wielded now by less experienced hands ? Is
not Protestantism mangled Catholicity, and the methods of
modern civilization an inheritance from the church which created
that civilization ? When did the Catholic Church cease to be
the mainstay of Christian civilization ? The history of the
world has not been finished because " the English method of
nation-making ' has become triumphant. The forms of govern-
ment change and nations rise and fall, but such events are
VOL. LXIV. 23

350 NEW ENGLAND AND [Dec.,

only incidents in human progress. The Catholic Church is not
merely an item, even a magnificent item, in the story of that
progress. The account of the methods in which nations have
been formed may be the political history of peoples, but the
history of the church is the account of that vital force which,
while it is leading men to the knowledge of a better world,
cannot help being the most efficacious power for perfecting
the moral and political relations of men in this world. The
history of the church has hardly begun, and Protestantism is
not the acme and consummation of Christian civilization, but
only one of those passing storms which impede for awhile the
course of the bark of Peter. We who live beneath the dark
clouds of that storm, and have known of no better days, except
as told by the records of the past we, Catholics and Protes-
tants, must find it hard to picture to our imaginations the
splendors of the day of Christian peace and unity. Still, Faith
assures that that day must come ; Christ has promised that his
church will never be overwhelmed.

ENGLAND'S INFLUENCE ON CHRISTIANITY.

To the man of faith the British Empire will fulfil a provi-
dential purpose. It has a higher value than that which arises
from the share it has had in promoting political and social
well-being in mankind. Like the Roman Empire, it has be-
come a world-empire to prepare the way for future triumphs
of the church. So many forms of religion have been brought
together within the limits of the British Empire that England
has learned marvellous wisdom in her treatment of the religi-
ous views of all her subjects. The extension of her empire
has promoted the cause of religious toleration, and, as a con-
sequence, the spirit of honest inquiry. I cannot help but feel
that the extension of English influence in the world has made
Christianity more Christian. Not, of course, that the whole
credit of the more tolerant spirit of our own times is due en-
tirely to any one influence I would say only, that nothing has
promoted it so much as the dominance of English influence in
our modern world. The British Empire has been in many
ways the handmaid of religion and civilization, as it ought to
have been ; and that it will do splendid service in the future,
if Providence does not find a more efficacious instrument for
its work, seems to me a just and fair conclusion. The world
owes a debt of gratitude to England, far more for having
paved the way for the magnificent revival of religion which

1896.] THE FORMATION OF AMERICA. 351

will characterize our next century than for the services which
she has undoubtedly rendered to the cause of our civil liberty.

THE PURITAN METAMORPHOSED.

The importance of the part played by New England in the
world's history should be estimated by a standard other than
the share it has taken in the forming of this free nation. As
an element in that larger influence which I have called Eng-
lish, she can claim a portion of the credit for the effects of
that influence upon these times. Here in America, as the pre-
dominant influence in our nation's life, New England has
planted the seeds of much that is best in that life and much
that is characteristic of it. Puritan New England has made
our country to be a Yankee nation. But the New England of
yesterday is fast giving place to the New England of the
future. What was Puritan New England has been called, even
now, Catholic New England. Surely the Lord Christ has in-
tended to work greater matters by the little handful of Puri-
tans than either they or the world have been aware of. Im-
portant as has been the part played by the New England of
yesterday, we may reasonably expect that even greater things
will be done by her in the future. These greater things will be
done through the transformation of the Puritan. We shall, in
the future, esteem the works of the Puritan more for these
later fruits of New England, which he did not dream of pro-
ducing to have dreamed of them would have been to him a
nightmare than for his share in making this a free nation.
The Puritan has made this a religious nation, which is destined
to be a Catholic nation.

THE IRISH LEAVENING OF NEW ENGLAND.

It has been said that the settlement of New England was
purely English. The statement seems to me to be substan-
tially true. It is admitted by all that some 270 Scotchmen
were sent to Boston by Cromwell in 1652, and that 150 Hugue-
not families took refuge in Massachusetts in 1685, and that 120
Presbyterian families, from the North of Ireland, settled prin-
cipally in Londonderry, New Hampshire, in the year 1719, and
that there may have been others of foreign blood of whose
coming we have no record. But admitting all assertions of
foreign admixture which have any probability to back them,
the conclusion of Mr. Savage remains sound, K that even at the
end of the eighteenth century ninety-eight out of every one

352 NEW ENGLAND AND [Dec. r

hundred inhabitants in the New England States were of purely
English stock. It is, nevertheless, most interesting to follow
up to its origin that stream of foreign blood, at first so tiny
in New England, but which has become so great and mighty
an influence to transform the Puritan while it has itself been
transformed by him. The largest and most important part of
that influence* has been wielded by men of Irish blood. Some
year and a half ago, when I was giving some temperance lec-
tures in the western part of Massachusetts, the pastor of the
town where I had to stop for a couple of days drove me over
a long mountain road to see an Irish farmer, with whom he
had some business. When we were about to take leave the
priest asked :

" How in the world did you ever come to settle in this
out-of-the-way place ? '

The Irishman answered : " Sure, I kind of dropped here."

After we had left the old farmer the priest told me how
he had run across Irishmen in the most remote parts of the
globe he had travelled extensively and he laughingly added :
" I do believe that if they ever discover the North Pole, they
will find Irishmen already settled there."

Among the town records of Yarmouth there is an old
entry, dating back to the early days of the colony, which re-
fers to a David O'Killia (probably O'Kelly) as " the Irishman*
a rare bird, no doubt, for those times. But " the Irishman '
has become a multitude. Although the Irish did not become
numerous enough to play any very important part in the his-
tory of New England until fifty years ago, Mr. Thomas
Hamilton Murray has collected considerable evidence regarding
the settlement of Irishmen in New England at a very early
date. He published an article this last spring in The Rosary
Magazine in which he gives us a great deal of this evidence.
He finds Irishmen settling in New England less than twenty
years after the landing of the Pilgrim Fathers. From the
records of King Philip's war he has prepared a list of 114
names which are undoubtedly of Irish origin. These and
other facts concerning the early settlement of Irish in New
England are extremely interesting as illustrating the ubiquity
of the Irishman, but they in no way militate against the asser-
tion that not until towards the middle of the present century
did the Irishman become a power in the land.

Although the tide of immigration had set in before that
time, it swelled to such proportions during and after the Great

1896.] THE FORMATION OF AMERICA. 353

Famine in Ireland that anti-Irish prejudice and religious intol-
erance were aroused and gave birth to the monstrosity of Know-
nothingism.

The spirit that persecuted the Quakers was alive in New
England fifty years ago, as it is not yet entirely dead. It turned
all its venom upon the " Paddy." Although political changes
had made it impossible to bring back the days when the Quaker
was flogged, had his ears cut off, or his tongue bored with a
hot iron, the spirit which prompted all these enormities was
fierce enough to break the windows of our churches, to burn
a convent, and to tar and feather an innocent priest. English
animosity towards the Irish, inherited by the Puritan, was com-
bined with a passionate hatred for " Papists " ; and " Irish,"
"Papist," "Paddy," "Catholic' -all were synonymous terms.
The Irish used to live together in a certain quarter of town.
Most New England towns have had at least one " Dublin," as
the Irish quarter was generally called. As most of those early
immigrants were poor, and the majority of them also represent-
ed the poorer classes of Ireland, the " Dublins ' of New Eng-
land were usually the shabbiest parts of town. Poverty, the
untidiness which generally accompanies poverty, and especially
intemperance, which is always more in evidence among the
poor than among the rich these things tended to confirm the
Puritan in his superficial judgment which condemned Irishmen
and Catholics alike as coarse and vulgar " Paddies."

Those were awful days when such base fanatics as the so-
called " Angel Gabriel ' became the leaders of the bigots, who
were then bolder than now because the objects of their hate
were comparatively few and weak. The story of those days
was a sad one, as my mother used to tell it to me. But some-
times the ludicrous absurdities into which blind prejudice led
its dupes lightened the dark picture. Soon after the marriage
of a certain young Irish girl to a relative of mine, husband
and wife removed from Massachusetts to a small town in Con-
necticut. They rented one side of a double house, the other
end of which was occupied by an old-fashioned Yankee. Both
families had the use of the same yard. When the new-comer
would appear in the yard, the good Puritan would rush franti-
cally into her kitchen and bolt the door after her. Sometimes
she would peep cautiously out of the window, evidently expect-
ing to discover something strange in the peculiar species of
mankind known as Irish. One day in winter, in her desperate
haste to escape all danger, she fell upon the ice and broke her

354 NEW ENGLAND. [Dec.

arm. She could not prevent the strong young Irishwoman
from lifting her into her house. When she had been put upon
the lounge and the doctor had been sent for, that dreadful
Irishwoman sat beside her suspicious neighbor and tried to
make her comfortable. During the next few weeks, while the
arm was mending, this Irish neighbor was with her every day,
caring for her and helping her about the house. One day,
when the usual offices of kindness were being fulfilled, the
good Puritan called her benefactor to her side and, looking into
her young and handsome face, asked, while tears of grati-
tude flowed down her cheeks, " Are all the Irish like you ? '
The younger woman answered laughingly that she was one
of the worst specimens of the race. Then the old woman
confessed, with great sorrow for her past ignorance and the
faults which grew out of it, what horrible things she had ex-
pected when she heard that an Irish family was to move in
next door ; she had looked for horns and something worse
than savagery. Providence had justly punished her for her un-
Christian suspicions, and she begged that she might be forgiven.
After a year or so, when the young married couple were about
to return to Massachusetts, the old woman wept most bitterly
and asked her now beloved neighbor to take something to keep
her ever in mind. And pointing to an old, straight-backed
chair, which she prized dearly as a family heirloom, she told
her parting friend to take it and keep it to the day of her death.
That Irishwoman was my own mother, and for forty years and
more she has kept that old chair and loved it, not only as a re-
minder of friendship with one now long since dead, but as a
symbol of a triumph over ignorant hate and unreasoning bigotry.

THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION.

BY F. M. MULLINS.

HEN, at the dawn, nor fading mists of night,

Nor day's young beams maintain unsocial sway,
Look to the opening East : there one clear ray
Sheds from on high serene, refulgent light.
It is the Morning Star ! Chaste, tender, white,
Unique in sov'reign state, till comes the day
She pours unquenched light, then melts away
Before the unmastered Sun, superbly bright.
More chaste, more bright, more tender, more serene,

And more unique in glory more sublime,
Art thou, our Mother and our gracious Queen,

The morning star of hope to ev'ry time.
O thou alone from taint inherent free,

Hail ! gracious Queen, of matchless purity.

356

WHERE SOUTHERN LILIES ARE TRAINED. [Dec.,

1896.] WHERE SOUTHERN LILIES ARE TRAINED. 357

WHERE SOUTHERN LILIES ARE TRAINED.

BY ELIZA ALLEN STARR.

'HE air of a February evening, sharp even in New
Orleans, greeted us as we alighted at the con-
vent gate on Saint Charles Avenue. We could
not, despite the cold, help standing for a mo-
ment under the row of magnolias and live-oaks
that mark the front line of the domain, so majestic is their
array. There is a picturesque lodge close by the gate ; but it
was dark within, and as the driver struck the bell a rather anx-
ious query rose in our minds as to how it could be heard in
the convent, which we barely discerned in the dim distance.
Very soon, however, we saw a procession of white-habited,
black-veiled nuns in winter wraps, with their lighted candles,
coming toward us through the shrubbery, and very soon, too,
one-half of the iron gate swung on its hinges and we were ad-
mitted within the enclosure ; then led, with a chorus of wel-
comes, along a wide walk leading to the stately academy, then
to the side by narrower paths, and through the shrubbery of
the garden to the convent itself a building of imposing length
but no great height, shaded by tall trees. We entered by a
piazza into a cozy parlor ; there was a blazing fire in the grate
and a refection spread for the travellers.

Warmed and refreshed, we slipped through a narrow passage
from the parlor to the chapel and knelt for a moment before
the altar ; then were led, through devious ways, to our room
in the academy, where another bright fire awaited us, while on
the table stood a large vase filled with flowering branches of
the sweet olive from the garden below, and even some hardy
roses from the open air. There could be no mistaking our
latitude, nor was there -any mistaking the cordiality of our host-
esses. They were the Dominican Sisters of St. Mary's.

We were fully prepared to find at Saint Mary's, in New
Orleans, the educational traditions of their renowned order
faithfully carried out. At the Educational Exhibit of the
World's Columbian Exposition this convent won from com-
mittees special praise, and from our own personal inspection
the warmest commendation ; for it was easy to see that the

358

WHERE SOUTHERN LILIES ARE TRAINED.

[Dec.,

THE STATELY MAGNOLIAS WERE JUST PUTTING FORTH
THEIR MAGNIFICENT BLOSSOMS.

class-books representing the results of studies, literary and scien-
tific, were of a very high order of excellence. There had been
no superficial training here ; and the surprise was to know of

girls of this genera-
tion willing to sub-
mit to such rigid
educational discip-
line, where no slack-
ening of energy had
been allowed on the
part of teacher or
pupil ; certainly no
signs of an " en-
ervating climate."
Every exercise was
crisp, lively. Then
the art department
in their exhibit was
another surprise.
There were no copies from great or small masters ; no attempts
at subjects beyond the reach of pupils ; but severe elemen-
tary studies in black and white, especially from casts, which
would have done credit to any institute in the land, and paint-
ings of still life in oils. We could not help asking the sister
under whose instruc-
tion these had been
executed, where her
own studies had
been made, to learn
that they had been
carried on in her

own convent under fkfSHS&lJRl
superior masters,
who had had but one
thought in mind-
which was the artis-
tic rendering of each
subject attempted.
As we have said,
our astonishment
was great, and proved to be one of our consolations in making
up our mental estimate of the condition of art among our con-
vents. For this exhibit a diploma has been given for "scientific

WE STEPPED THROUGH A NARROW PASSAGE FROM THE
PARLOR TO THE CHAPEL.

1896.]

WHERE SOUTHERN LILIES ARE TRAINED.

359

class-work and also for excellent drawings in crayon," with the
St. Gaudens medal.

But it is time to give the story of our Dominican monastery,
since in our country, north or south, east or west, there is sure
to be a history of beginnings back of the noble buildings, spread-
ing forest trees, and blossoming gardens.

It was in 1860 that the Most Rev. Antoine Blanc, Arch-
bishop of New Orleans, invited the Dominican nuns of Cabra,
Dublin, Ireland, to send a colony to his city. The school-
houses had been built and furnished, but he could offer only a

THE FIRST CONVENT WAS ON DRYADS STREET.

cottage as a temporary residence for the nuns, promising to
build a commodious convent for them in a short time. With
the sanction of the Holy See, and of their ecclesiastical supe-
rior, the Most Rev. Dr. Cullen (afterwards cardinal), five choir
and two lay sisters left Cabra in October of that year to found
a convent at New Orleans. But during the negotiations Arch-
bishop Blanc died, and Bishop Odin, of Texas, was appointed
to take his place. This might have seemed unfortunate had
not Archbishop Odin several years before, while Bishop of
Texas, invited the same Dominicans of Cabra to his diocese.
Some untoward circumstance had prevented their acceptance of

360

WHERE SOUTHERN LILIES ARE TRAINED. [Dec.,

this invitation, to his and their awn regret. On his elevation to
the Archdiocese of New Orleans, therefore, he was more than
pleased to find a branch of the Cabra nuns among his educators.
'A word par parenthese about Cabra, which still flourishes
as a memory of all that inspires to great labors for God in
the hearts of its willing colonists. This famous convent has
been the mother-house of Saint Mary's, Kingstown ; of Sion
Hill, Blackrock ; of Saint Mary's, Cape Town, South Africa ;
of Saint Mary's, South Australia, all in turn mother-houses of
several foundations. The nuns brought with them to the New
World the refinement of European schools, combined with that
intellectual and broad progressiveness which is or should be a
feature of their order, and which is especially necessary to those
who would train American girls according to the spirit of repub-
lican institutions while building them up in all womanly virtues.
At Cabra there was a zeal to raise up instructors who would be
true educators, in touch with the most improved methods, while
they used discretion in the choice of what to adopt and what

THE CONVENT A BUILDING OF IMPOSING LENGTH.

to reject, according to a noble ideal of what woman should be
in social life ; familiar with Christian aesthetics, but who would
practise, above all things, that piety, self-denial, and fortitude
which can alone secure the happiness of the home.

The first convent in New Orleans was on Dryads Street,
where they opened, on the feast of Saint Francis Xavier, De-
cember 3, 1860, a parochial school numbering two hundred girls.
In February, 1862, Saint Mary's Select School was opened in

1896.] WHERE SOUTHERN LILIES ARE TRAINED.

361

H
a
w

S3
H

H
2

C/3

C
H
tS
tt
50

the small cottage which for two years served as both convent
and academy. In 1864 the nuns purchased Madame Mace's

Academy at Greenville, then six miles from the city of New
Orleans, and which is now Saint Charles Avenue, a delightful
neighborhood and still beautiful with its gardens and villa-like

362

WHERE SOUTHERN LILIES ARE TRAINED.

[Dec.,

THE PRINTING is DONE BY THE NUNS, IN THE " SALVE
REGINA " PRINTING-OFFICE.

residences. In 1865 the young lady boarders were transferred
from the Dryads Street convent to Greenville, and although far
from possessing the present stately buildings with their modern
appointments for comfort, the academy flourished as it has con-
tinued to do, and while their achievements in the past may
well be to them a source of congratulation, they are still press-
ing forward to that
perfection which the
religious state, of it-
self, should inspire.

The curriculum
of study includes,
from the primary to
the graduating de-
partment, a thor-
ough course of Eng-
lish with its litera-
ture ; philosophy,
natural and mental ;
rhetoric and all that
belongs to belles-let-
tres ; the sciences,
mathematics; French and German, with especial attention to
elocution as an art, for whjkh one of the ladies has prepared and
published an admirable manual under this title. Book-keeping
has not been forgotten ; while under the head of domestic econ-
omy the girls learn sewing, cooking, and baking. Music, instru-
mental and vocal, is taught in connection with harmony and
theory. Drawing and painting are practised in a studio with all
the appliances for good lights; and this is connected with an ex-
hibition-room. A general class includes aJl the young pupils, so
that no one escapes knowing something of the art rudiments,
while those who possess taste, and desire to gratify it, are trans-
planted at any age to the studio. Casts from the antique are
diligently studied, and the pupils pass onward to studies of still,
life, and even of the living head in oil colors.

As we can see, as far as precept and example can secure
it, a rounded character is the object before the mind's eye of
these trained educators. Every effort is made, by way of na-
ture and object-lessons, to bring out the hidden resources of
the young, to rouse the dormant faculties, to quicken habits of
observation.

As one of the best means of accomplishing this, all the pupils,
in every grade, are encouraged to write compositions by the

1896.] WHERE SOUTHERN LILIES ARE TRAINED. 363

elaborating of some subject within the capacity of the youngest
pupil ; while this act of original thinking and production is still
further promoted by the putting forth each month of a maga-
zine, entitled Salve Regina, which is made up of original com-
positions by the young ladies, while the printing is done un-
der the roof of St. Mary's itself by the nuns ; and we also
saw nearly every girl in the school trying her hand at type-
setting, her eyes at proof-reading, and even working the small
hand-press by way of recreation. That indefinable but exceed-
ingly precious literary taste, a liking for books and everything
connected with them, which characterizes the true scholar, re-
ceived a lively impetus during the course of the Winter-School
held in New Orleans. The academy was visited by several
of the most distinguished lecturers at the school ; these Domini-
can ladies, enclosed as they are, having a sharp relish for
literary productions, while the advanced pupils, acting under
this influence, attended in a body the sessions held at Tu-
lane Hall. In connection with this we may be allowed to say
that the first time the word " Winter-School ' was formulated
and enunciated it was from the mouth of one of the same

ST. JOSEPH'S SHRINE.

Dominican nuns while in conversation with that enthusiastic
promoter of popular education, Rev. John F. Mullany, the
first one to propose the plan of a winter-school in New Or-
leans, and to the success of which, with Rev. Francis V. Nu-

364

WHERE SOUTHERN LILIES ARE TRAINED. [Dec.,

gent, C.M., he was so directly instrumental. From first to last
Saint Mary's Dominican Convent set its influence on the side
of the Winter-School ; as good a proof as could be given of

what we have called
the progressive spirit
in educational methods.
We have never seen
a school so nearly al-
together Catholic in its
patronage as Saint
Mary's Dominican Con-
vent on Saint Charles
Avenue, New Orleans ;
and there was some-
thing very charming in
the perfectly uncon-
scious movements of
so many young hearts
in pious exercises. A
novena was entered
into as a unit, and the
greatest enthusiasm
was excited by its suc-
cessful results, while
the composure with
which every religious duty was performed attested the thorough-
ness of their religious instruction.

As to discipline, we must confess that we forgot while there
that discipline was considered necessary ; for it never obtruded
itself upon our notice, familiarly as we moved among supe-
riors, teachers, and pupils. The most delightful regularity pre-
vailed without any display of authority, and we used to wonder
sometimes who were the regulators of this admirable harmony.
Lovely needle-work, all sorts of handicrafts which girls enjoy,
from dressing dolls to the most elaborate embroidery and the
fashioning and hand-sewing of articles requiring feminine in-
genuity, were every-day affairs. It resembled, in fact, a large
harmonious family, without any of the iron machinery general-
ly attributed to boarding-schools, and watchfulness was altogether
under the appearance of companionship.

What a lovely intellectual, moral, and religious training! we
could not but exclaim, for these daughters of Louisiana, poetic,
ardent, sensitive to everything that touches the imagination ;
and whose representatives we see here from the ranks of the

GIANT LIVE-OAK ON THE PLAY-GROUNDS.

1896.]

WHERE SOUTHERN LILIES ARE TRAINED.

365

old French settlers, coming from their beautiful homes nested in
groves, surrounded by their broad sugar and rice plantations ;
from cultivated families in the city itself, where the pure Creole,
in whose veins runs the noble French or Spanish blood simple or
united, meets the high-grade American with a cordiality full of
everything elevating and delightful in social intercourse ; each
bringing their traditions from generations of pious and refined an-
cestors, and while marked by the gentleness of choice culture, de-
manding nothing of the luxury which so often enervates the young
in large cities. Well may the South rejoice in such an institution.
Nothing could have been more enchanting than the morning
we left. Dew glistened on the grassy lawns, on the gardens,
luxuriant in their bloom ; the stately magnolias were just put-
ting forth their magnificent blossoms, the wisteria in full flower
hung its garlands from tree to tree ; roses everywhere as beau-
tiful as any that bloom in "the vale of Cashmere"; the mock-
ing-bird's voice in melodious choirs all around us ; congregations
gathering for the frequented early Mass, with here and there a

DEW GLISTENED ON THE GARDENS, LUXURIANT IN THEIR BLOOM.

band of sisters ; the glorious sunshine tempered by the morn-
ing breezes ; everything fresh, joyous ; and as the same gentle
faces which had welcomed us to the convent gate on a chilly
evening in February gave us an affectionately smiling adieu,
we thanked God that we had been allowed to spend two
beautiful months in the shelter of a convent home.
VOL. LXIV. 24

3 66

A VILLAGE CYNIC.

[Dec.,

A VILLAGE CYNIC.

BY WALTER LECKY.

ilNSLEY was a small town; like most small towns

airing on all possible occasions its importance
and its capabilities. It was founded in a hurry,
as its historian relates ; built in a hurry, and to
this day, if I may so speak, has, at least in its
appearance, something of the hurry about it. The accidental
discovery of lead-mines noised abroad brought restless spirits
from all points in search of work. The mines were successful ;
and a village sprang up, taking the name of the owner of the
mine. This is as much of the early history of Hinsley as you
might care to know, and it is sufficient for my story.

Hinsley had one large street, on which were the business
houses and professional residences. There were a few other
streets, narrow and as crooked as a snake basking in the sun.
These were for the common people ; they are always shoved
to the rear, their few shops merely subsisting from day to day,
living more in hope than by custom. One of these shops was
named by the urchins, who have a wonderful faculty for sad-
dling fitting epithets on men and things, " The Skip House,"
from the many tenants who had in a short space entered it
with hopes and left it in despair. When its sign " To Let '
was not hung out it was rather the exception than the rule.
Tenants, according to the landlords' dictum, paraded in all
ages, have never been considered the most watchful guardians
of property. " Skip House," if taken as an example, I am
bound to admit, would confirm the landlords' theory. It had
originally, I believe, been the builder's intention to have it a
Queen Anne cottage, but age and tenants had put an impress
on it which debarred it from coming under any known style of
architecture. It was a pathetic monument, reminding its own-
er of unpaid bills, of faces and sounds that had vanished for
ever from his seeking gaze into the dark. These vanishings
had made him dubious of human nature on a hundred points
that the easy-going man would have no difficulty in judging.
As the landlord sat in his office a few days after an unusu-
ally promising tenant had escaped him by the pale glimpses of

1896.] A VILLAGE CYNIC. 367

the moon, revolving in his mind what an amount of cunning,
deceit, and dishonesty can be packed in a human frame a
meditation to bring sourness and gruffness to the thinker a
frail old man, face furrowed and eye heavy, entered rather
toddled into the office, remarking as he did so :

"You're Muggins: ain't you Muggins? Yes, I believe you're
Muggins. You just fit the description I had from a fellow I
tramped a few miles with."

" Another beggar ! ' mused the landlord. " Quite a cuss in
his own way. He has 'Mugginsed' me all I'll allow. This
new race of beggars think no more of dropping the handle to
a fellow's name than they do of stealing anything loosely left
around. Honesty to them is the worst of policy. Conscience !
they would have to get that by hypodermic injections. Better
give him something and let him go."

His musings were cut short by the slender figure, now
quietly seated.

" Muggins, you are sizing me up, taking my measure, old
boy. Quite right. Your process is too slow. Don't follow the
vulgar old lie of buying a book because the covers are fancy.
Don't think, either, that every tattered hide clothes a high-
spirited dog. I have seen curs possessing them.

" I see you're smiling, Muggins. Have been bit, I dare say.
Perhaps you tried fancy covers and tattered hides, and found
them wanting in solids, thin air, vanishing. Eh, Muggins?
You laugh. I read you like a book. I am a bit of philosopher-
not by nature, but by art. You see, my dear Muggins, I have
been around in the world early and late ; met the crowd, which
had little pity on a solitary tramp. It is philosophy to suffer
and say nothing ; that's my mood, and I rightly call myself a
philosopher. My friends may have different views, but I com-
fort myself with the knowledge that friendship is not infallible,
and wisdom can be mistaken for foolishness. It has always been
a pleasure to me to note strangers taking my measure and
making a botch of their job. If it was the body, you could
get it easily with a yard-stick or tape-line, but the mind is not
measured after that fashion."

The old man laughed a strange, chirping laugh, much like
the chatter of sparrows when disputing.

Mr. Muggins dropped the pennies his fingers had grasped
to the depths of his trouser pocket, and drawing his face
serious looked out of the window.

"Muggins," continued the old man, "I guess I've talked

368 A VILLAGE CYNIC. [Dec.,

enough on everything; now to something more interesting. You
have a house to rent ; I want it. Don't frown, my dear fellow.
Nature was too scanty with the material she put in your face
to allow you to frown, and not be hideous as the painter's
devil. You know the contemplation of his master-piece drove
him insane. Your head just this way ; the sun is in your eyes.
I will pay right down for your house a full year's rent. I ask
no improvements ; a fellow-tramp told me that to your mind
your house was in tolerable condition. Those who don't pay
rent would ask for it to be put in excellent condition."

As Mr. Muggins wrote the receipt an idea came to him
that as landlord he had a right to cross-examine his tenant.
He had no formulas to cope with this only specimen of
honesty he had met with in years. He needs be cautious or
else the old philosopher, seemingly at perfect ease in the arm-
chair, might make him foolish in his own sight. Receipts can-
not be written without names. Mr. Muggins's chance came.

" Of course you have a name, Mr. So-and-So," said Mr.
Muggins, smilingly rubbing his moustache with his pen and
looking on the occupant of the arm-chair.

" My name " the old man shook his head " it matters
little. If it is necessary here it is: Hunter Morgan, Esq. A
man should never lose the opportunity to air his dignity.
Other fellows are always whittling at it ; they are school-boys
with jack-knives ; we are, my dear, the benches. Your next
question ought to run : ' Morgan, what is your occupation ? or
are you like the not a few, living by the occupations of others ? '
To which I might gruffly respond : ' Muggins, you have your
money, and my business is my own ; when it becomes yours
it is common property and nobody's business ' a bad state of
affairs. As I am a philosopher I must be polite, and as my
business will be best served when best known, I take pleasure
in converting you into a newspaper, putting a steady advertise-
ment on the first page : that I have come to stay, that I am by
profession a watch and clock tinker, handy at a dozen other
trades, and, mind you this must be put in italics agreeable
to customers. Agreeableness is a virtue that tradesmen do not
generally cultivate, but that is a great mistake."

The old man arose, laughing again in his sparrow-like
chatter, and bade adieu to the muddled Muggins.

Hunter Morgan and his large valise passed down the street
to " The Skip House," watched by a dozen urchins ; who were
making up their minds to have fun with the old man, in a

1896.] A VILLAGE CYNIC. 369

hundred ways known only to young heads, once ne was com-
fortably settled ; but the society and business element ignored
him ; he seemingly had nothing for them. A yellow cur, out
of shelter, and as a consequence in misery, brushed his legs.
He looked down, the cur gazed up ; their eyes met in friend-
ship. The vigorous tail-wagging of the outcast was a brute
effort at thanks for promised 'board and shelter. The old man
was grateful for affection, even if it had in it a little of selfish-
ness. We rarely find gold that needs not washings.

Business brought me to Mr. Muggins. He was in a play-
ful mood. As soon as it was finished, and contrary to his
usual fashion, he handed me a chair with a cordial invitation
" to visit awhile," and graced this invitation by proffering
what he avowed was a genuine Havana. When we had passed
the commonplaces of talk, the health of my family and his,
the state of the weather, and our business fears, Mr. Muggins
tilted back in his chair, threw his long legs across a box that
perchance might have been purposely put there as an often-
needed accommodation for the owner's long and acrobatic legs,
and lit his cigar after a long fit of laughter.

"What has happened?' I queried. " Happened?' shouted
Mr. Muggins; "something to startle a fellow of my experience.
I have met an honest tenant ! l The Skip House ' has been
rented, the money paid, and for the first time in years I had
the honor and pleasure of signing -* Horace Muggins' to a re-
ceipt. On such an occasion I can afford to treat. Really, I
feel as if this one swallow has brought summer. If you have
any clocks, watches, trinkets to fix, don't forget to give the
job to my honest tenant. If you have not, it would be worth
your while to break your watch's mainspring, twist a hand
off your clock, or knock a stone out of your ring, just to
have an excuse for seeing Hunter Morgan. He is one of those
queer chaps that has been around a good bit, saw with open
eyes, registered his seeing, thought over it, and now talks out
what he has been long thinking. He may not give you much
respect he * Mugginsed ' me until I was a little fretful but his
quickness in paying drove it away, and made me kind of like
him. I think you will, too, if for nothing else, as a curiosity,
a knick-knack, or a bit of bric-a-brac, or whatever you call it.
If the missus was here she would keep me in the groove.
You know she is president of some society which takes an
interest in these gimcracks. I said to her : ' Maggie, old girl,
you have so much -time, why in thund,er.rdon't you go down

3/0 A VILLAGE CYNIC. [Dec.,

and wash the Reed children ? They're so coated with stuff (I
daren't call it dirt in her presence) that they are now Hindus
and will soon be darkies, if you and your society don't com-
mence to peel their polish off.'

Mr. Muggins laughed heartily and puffed vigorously. Blow-
ing away the gray smoke that pirouetted above his nose and
was tickling his eyes, he continued :

" What do you think was her reply ? You could not guess
if you were trying for weeks and weeks: 'The Reeds were too
human.' Yet she and a dozen others go Bible-reading and
tract-giving handy jobs, where you don't have to pull off your
gloves preaching charity, and giving it to bric-a-brac and pugs.
I tell you it does me good to read Burns ; he's the boy that
knew the difference between sham and the genuine article.
When my wife and the Lawtons three touch-me-not-or-I'll-
collapse-old-maids urged me to go to church and hear Dr.
Klinkenslop on the text from Paul to the Galatians, 'For all
the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this : Thou shalt
love thy neighbor as thyself,' I didn't say 'yes' and I didn't
say ' no.' I was thinking of the Reeds turning darkies and
Klinkenslop and all the rest looking on, because the Reeds
were 'too human/ Eh? Had they been pugs there wouldn't
have been a fly-speck on their hides. So you see how things
run. I had my answer ready. Says I, ' The Bible is not for
reading alone it's for practice ; and as to Klinkenslop, he
makes me think of Burns :

" ' Some books are lies frae end to end,
And some great lies were never penn'd ;
E'en ministers, they hae been kenn'd,

In holy rapture,

A rousing whid at times to vend,
And nail't wi' Scripture.'

I wish you had seen their faces. It was a spectacle worth see-
ing. The oldest of the Lawtons' spectacles slipped to the
point of her nose, but she erected such a curl there that there
was no fear of its going further. When Klinkenslop donates a
bit of soap, my better-half a few towels, the Lawtons the rub-
bing, and the darkies are reduced to their original color, Her-
ace Muggins may be coaxed to "church."

" What about your tenant ? ' I put in.

" Well, that's so. I went off a kind of unexpected, and
again I didn't. When you hear old Morgan you'll know by

1896.] A VILLAGE CYNIC. 371

his talk that it was meeting Klinkenslops, Lawtons, and their
likes which ground him into the curiosity he appears to be.
Bring old Morgan a job ; he's always agreeable to his custom-
ers, that I warrant. Good-day."

Muggins had piqued my curiosity to see the old watch-
maker to beard him in his den. I bethought myself that I
was on an errand, and my wife was anxiously awaiting her
gossiping husband. I rather ran than walked ; my door was
lying open ; evidently my wife had been reconnoitring. There
was a frown on her face. I looked stupid, as I have long held
that stupidity in the man soon disarms the woman.

" So you have put in an appearance ! It was to be but a
few minutes' absence ; so, believing you, dear, I put the tea on
the table. Sugar keeps ; you have made out to bring it along ;
tea gets cool perhaps you like it so. When we were first
married you desired it boiling hot but people change. Some-
body told me you were in Muggins's all this time that hateful
man ! How can you bear him ? He publicly insulted those
good, dear Lawtons, who, as Mr. Klinkenslop said to me the
other day, are ' blessedly doing the Master's work.' And that
was not enough : he even quoted poetry at them perfectly
awful ! His wife, poor thing God pity her ! to have to live
with such a bear says, ' He made poetry right on the spot,
just to throw a ball at Dr. Klinkenslop.' I wonder people go
near him to be insulted. I'm sure I would rather face a mad
dog than that gruff old thing, kicking and snarling at every-
body. I hope he will meet his match. Just think of the
Lawtons trying to convert that old reprobate. But what's the
use in talking? You seem to enjoy his society. Don't open
your mouth, William ; anybody that Can leave their dinner
standing for an hour on the table, their wife waiting and run-
ning to the door every minute, must love their company more
than their home. Somebody I know has done this." Here
my wife burst into tears a way she has of bringing out my
affection.

I drew by her side and said: " Now, dear, you know I was
not gone an hour. I couldn't be. Besides, I did not spend all
the time with Mr. Muggins, who asked for you kindly."

, " Muggins ask for me ? ' shrieked my wife, drying her tears.
" The villain ! don't mention in my house his name."

" I I had to wait in the grocery store my turn ; it was
full. I couldn't ask the clerk to leave all the rest and serve
me. Could I, dear ? '

372 A VILLAGE CYNIC. [Dec.,

" No, William ; but when you were served, had you a head
upon you, you would have come home. When you next go
out I will send along a little boy to lead you home ; you truly
need one."

" I tell you," I warmly replied, " I was not so long on the
errand as you make out. I'm not a boy to be running the streets
like a greyhound. Many a time I waited twice as long for you
and said nothing. It seems that gratitude is not on your list.
Anyway I don't believe I could be as long gone as you make
out. Just let me see the time."

" Well, you have legs on you, Mr. Crawford, and the clock
is, I have no doubt, keeping time in the parlor as usual unless
to express her disgust at your conduct she has stopped."

" Martha, don't be silly. Show me your watch."

" William, how can you be so mean ? You know that I have
not worn my watch in months ; not since Aunt Fanny's chain
was broken you promised to have it repaired, but you are
good in that line ; your promises are never made to be kept,
so they are easily made."

"I will have it," said I, softening my voice, "repaired at
once ; just fetch it here. I am so forgetful ; forgive me. I
suppose I might have come home sooner. I deserve a cold
dinner." Drawing over my face a look of downright stupidity,
I drew near the table.

My wife drew closer and, patting me on the shoulders, laugh-
ingly remarked "that she had kept my dinner warm; in fact,
she would not let me eat a cold dinner if I had remained away
twice as long." The ways of love are, like the Heathen Chinee,
peculiar. I was impatient to have dinner over ; my wife deem-
ing this impatience a desire to have the chain fixed as an ac-
knowledgment of my guilt and as a kind of reparation. When
this idea had taken full possession of her mind, nothing could
be more tender and gracious than my wife. My thoughts were
on " The Skip House' and its queer occupant, but to give them
a speech-setting was a dangerous experiment not to be risked.

Silence was golden, and as our boy came romping in from
school, throwing his satchel on the table, telling an excited tale
of how one of the little Reeds saved Miss Klinkenslop from
being killed by catching her runaway pony, I joined him in
the thrilling narrative, pointing a moral that poverty and brav-
ery are often bed-fellows. I had a hankering that my wife
would on some future occasion repeat my moral to the bespec-
tacled Lawtons.

1896.] A VILLAGE CYNIC. 373

Dinner was soon over, done to our boy's rattling tale. Next
to the delicious music of a young girl's rippling laughter comes
the voice of a genuine boy narrating something which appeals
to his sympathies. Note that this particular boy was our boy,
and that his every move was watched by the mother's quick
eye, and that every point he made love registered in his moth-
er's face.

As Jack closed the garden gate with a jerk and clash, he
shouted to his mamma, whose nose was flattened against the
window-pane : " Ma, you ought to see the old cuss that's come
to town, living in Muggins's ' Skip House.' He's a dandy, that's
what he is. The Reeds say he's a whole circus. Can't I go
and see him ? '

Luckily I was standing in the door, so I shouted as loud as I
could banging the door at the same time " Good-by, my son."

"What is Jack shouting?' demanded my wife. "Call him
back. I did not catch what he said."

" He says, ' Love to pa and me,' I answered.

" Loving boy, Jack," said my wife. " He will soon be twelve,
and on his birthday we must make him a present. Jack's love
must be encouraged. It would be quite an idea to have a
'purple tea' in honor of Jack."

With Jack as a subject my wife might have passed the day
expounding, and without the slightest fatigue, had I not asked
for the chain, exclaiming : " I will have that done to-day or I
shall lose my life ! '

" Bless your soul, William ! ' said my wife, " you are just
lovely to-day. I will get the chain at once."

It was soon in my hands a chain of human hair, fantasti-
cally plaited, running through three little cubic blocks of gold
chastely carven. Each block bore the letters M. M. The
guard of the chain, a bit of curiously twisted gold, bore the
same initials. This chain had long been a keepsake in my
wife's family.

When my wife joined her fortunes to mine her aunt be-
stowed the chain ; and Jack, inquisitive as are most boys, wish-
ing to know the outs and ins of everything, detached the hair
from the pendant gold blocks. His busy fingers had given me
the needed excuse. Saying " I'll have a good job done," I left
the house and slowly sauntered to " The Skip House." On the
way I saw our Jack and the Reeds busily engaged in stealing
Muggins's apples his very best at that. " Here," I thought,
"good wife, is a case where ignorance is bliss indeed."

374 A VILLAGE CYNIC. [Dec.,

" The Skip House' looked a little healthier; it seemed a
bit brighter, and that because a human being tenanted it. It
is an odd thought of mine that houses are like human bodies.
Where there is life, there is always something pleasant. I had
a good look at the old jeweller, who was standing by the win-
dow watching the maple-leaves play hide-and-go-seek on the
scratchy lawn before his door. He was immersed in thought,
taking no interest in my presence. In early life he must have
been of a tall and commanding presence, but age and adversity
had squeezed his shoulders into an ungraceful stoop. His hair
was long, white, and carelessly thrown back, joining with his
beard of the same color to give him what has been aptly called
a leonine appearance. So true was this that my first sight of
him made me think of an old lion I had seen when my wife
and I, taking in a cheap excursion to New York, " did ' the
Park. His face was sallow and weather-beaten, wrinkled and
twisted. The eyes were dull, as if much of their life had been
squeezed out by the wrinkles and twists. The old cap he wore
on his head, and the old gown wrapped about his body, seemed
fitting dress for such a man. My head was filled with his fig-
ure. I thought of the alchemists, of Mesmer, of Dr. Faust, and
a thousand other things. Had the brown leaves become fair
maidens, singing rapturous music, I would not have been as-
tonished. The figure at the window, piquant and queer, was a
magician who by filliping his fingers could put me astride a
broom, and convert it into a prancing charger to bear me away
through deep, dark forests, by weird lakes, over hill and dale.
Yes, the old watch-tinker was a bit uncanny ; but, buoyed by
Muggins's saying that he was always agreeable to customers, I
fumbled in my breast-pocket for the chain, and rapped strongly
on the door. It was some time before my wizard was roused
from his meditations. His voice came through the chinky corri-
dor, cheery and refreshing, convincing me that Muggins's saying
was but truth. The voice bade me "enter."

But that word was so spoken, the human voice has such
ways with it, that I caught myself muttering " Old fellow, I
guess you and I will hitch."

I entered his little room, bed-room and work-room all in
one. His mattress lay on the floor " easy," he said, " to get
aboard, a genuine safety, accidents reduced to a minimum."
This greeting was in answer to my eyes, which he had detected
wondering at his curious lay-down on my entrance, before I
could introduce myself, or get in the way of his eyes the

1896.] A VILLAGE CYNIC. 375

broken chain to win his graciousness by proving I was a cus-
tomer.

" Sir," said I, " here is a little job. Muggins advised my
coming. It is small, but every little helps."

" Sit down. Your name is no matter, names are neither
here nor there," said the philosopher; " it's the things that they
are attached to that counts. Don't mind the chair ; it's the
only one here hence king ; a little rheumatic-gouty, no doubt ;
see how swollen one of its legs has become ! That's from bad
care ; has been too good a fellow ; kind of common, every-
body's friend; had bad luck; now everybody's suspicious of it.
Can't blame you, sir ; when friends don't stick, don't expect
the strangers. I saw your eyes roving around my palace, a
kind of sadness in your face. 'Ah!' says you to yourself,
' poor old cuss ! he is pretty hard up, when all the furniture
in his room is an old chair, a lame table, a few pots and pans,
and a wash-basin.' I emphasize this last piece because, as
friend Muggins must have told you, I am a philosopher, and
as such hold that cleanliness is next to godliness. Yet you are
mistaken. I am rather a faddist that society which has three-
fourths of the Christian males in its ranks. We are just now
aping the Japanese style, which I dare say even in Hinsley is
well known. That calls for beds low near the floor, and for
just the necessary things in the home. I confess that I am a
great admirer of this Japanese fad, for I am comfortable, which
is the only state conducive to health. If I was either rich or
poor, society that eternally busy body would* either hug me
in her clubs and ball-rooms, or grind me to dust in her alms-
houses. As it is, being cormfortable, I escape her extremes ; I
am master of myself, having divorced laziness and conquered
my stomach, thereby gaining peace the comfortable feeling I
have been speaking about. In a little book I read daily fat
and marrow for a philosopher I have marked with my blue
pencil marked with three X's this sentence :

" ' And everywhere thou must of necessity have patience, if
thou desirest inward peace and wouldst merit an eternal
crown.'

" Well, be easy ; don't fear the chair ; with all its misfortunes
it will struggle and bear you up. Just as you came in I was
meditating on life. Meditation is something that men eschew ;
why I could never tell. I think some fellow whom they called
a sage said, when the world was young and thought more
easy than in these days, that 'all meditation ended in death';

376 A VILLAGE CYNIC. [Dec.,

and I don't doubt but that's unpleasant to the herd, who would
rather browse on weeds than look to the skies. I admire ships
very much, but I like to know where they are bound for,
where I leave them ; and in meditations I have glimpses where
I am bound for, outlines not very clear but assuring assuring,
sir. I was watching from my window a brown leaf spring from
yonder twig, coaxed by a passing breeze. It flew higher than
the tree, was full of pride ; then off goes the breeze to flirt
with comelier leaves, down comes our leaf whirling and whirl-
ing until it fell just outside my window into a dust-heap.
Spring gave it birth, greenness and sunshine ; summer fondled
it in the cradle of youth ; autumn kissed it with decay ;
winter brought death and dust. In this meditation I could
see lands far away, but my demon said to me : ' Thou art like
Moses; thou mayest view but cannot enter those lands until,
like the leaf, thy body is death and dust. Those lands are
ruled by the spirit, and there is a fiat against flesh.' Shall I
weep, explorer as I am, because the barriers are crumbling, and
the spirit, like a bird, watches intently the hole made in the
cage, just only asking enough room to crush through ? Not I.
You are in a hurry, I see by the way you torture my old
chair. So Muggins sends you here ! Muggins as an advertiser
is a success; he has all the tricks of the trade: the customer
informs the firm that Muggins sent him here ; the firm is bound
to admit that an ad. in Muggins's pays. Don't let your eyes
sweep my classic premises, conveying ideas to your mind on
which you presume that that unintelligent thing, a country
jury eleven minds led out of hodge-podge by the oily glibness
of the talking twelfth would render a verdict condemning one
Muggins of Kinsley as an abominable landlord, a villain crush-
ing out the heart's-blood of the poor, an audacious Shylock.

" Their verdict would be unjust, for Muggins has given
more than he has received. His interest has been stolen, his
capital demolished. Muggins's soft side was bruised premature-
ly. His original bent was to do good to all men ; but he hap-
pened only to meet a few, who kicked his kindness and demon-
strated to their satisfaction and delight that Muggins was a
fool, by their successful vanishings. As a reminder of his folly
they left that old chair. If Muggins desired to meditate on
folly, why he might sit ; sitting is easier than standing. Were
they not considerate for Muggins's comfort ? Now, Muggins's
fallacy arises from the fact that his life has been confined to
about forty miles around Hinsley, narrowing it and crooking' it.

1896.] A VILLAGE CYNIC. 377

This is his world ; in it he has been abused ; now he mistakes
it for the real world, the Hinsleyites for humanity. Travel and
study would make him wiser, better, and sweeter.

" Let me see the chain."

I handed it to him. No sooner had he touched it than a
strange light worked into his eyes ; at first fitful and stormy as
if depths were ploughed, then subdued and steady as if the
depths had settled, and the waters of life were stilled. The
wind whistled a few tunes for the dancing leaves, the sun went
to sleep on a blazing light-wine-colored pillow ; a few old
clocks, out of time, kept wrangling on the walls ; the old
jeweller was dreamily, silently holding a bit of woven hair and
gold in his long, yellow fingers.

Was it the darkness, or was it the broken rain-music acting
on my sensitiveness that had made his voice, so rugged and
haughty a few minutes ago, now sad and sweet ? What master-
memories had touched the bow, and brought such low, delicate
tones from this cracked and rusted old violin ?

" A precious gift this ; not hair, but human hearts, woven in
that chain, and bound with gold incorruptible gold. An old
man needs early rest, the first hours of the night are soothing ;
old age keeps vigil in the long, lone mornings. The chain needs
delicate mending ; it was a work of love by him who wove
'the strands and bound them so preciously.' Chasing like this
took days and days, the longer the better. Love is a slow
workman. My old eyes must have the strong sun for such work.
Leave it with me ; I promise care, affection for such a votive
memorial. I admire the beautiful ; beauty is here. I love
everything that Love has done ; the traces of her finger are
here. In a few days the work will be done to your entire
satisfaction. Have no fear of that."

The old man opened the door leading to the street. "Good-
night, sir, and a pleasant sleep. I will slip into my nest and
have a nod." The door was heavily closed. I heard the rusty
bolt rattle and the pats of retreating feet.

I hurried home, more in a canter than a walk, as the driv-
ing rain was cold and chilling. My own house looked doubly
cheery and comfortable. Through . the window-curtain I could
see the outlines of two figures, one as if reading, another as if
bending over the reader's shoulder. "That," thought I, "is
my wife reading Louisa Alcott's Little Women, and restless
Jack, wrapped up in the tale, wishing there were some other
means of knowing the story quicker. My wife will be a bit

378 A VILLAGE CYNIC. [Dec.,

disappointed at my coming home without the chain, but it is
not my fault." I took out my keys and opened the hall-door
as quietly as I could ; but my wife's ears were sharp for
sound.

" Run and see if that's papa, Jack ; he has been long enough
away to have half-a-dozen chains mended. Oh, dear me ! I
hope he didn't meet that horrid Muggins."

Jack in a few jumps was by my side, eager to carry the
chain to his mother, and eloquently expound how it was mended.
Disappointed, he yelled to his mother that " I had left the
chain at ' The Skip House.'

My wife dropped her book and advanced to the centre of
the sitting-room to meet me. There was fire in her eyes. As
usual I looked stupid.

" Muggins owns you, William, body and soul ; his company
must be positively fascinating. Crawford, I say Crawford, you're
the bird, Muggins is the snake ; he'll eat you up some of these
days. It's just horrible to be a man and have no will-power.
Muggins has reduced to a pulp your back-bone. Don't open
your mouth now ; Jack saw you. The dear boy didn't inform ;
how cruel you can be ; see the eyes you give Jack. Come
here, my son ; you might as well have no father. Think of
Jack going within a mile of those low Mugginses. Jack has
some of his mother's spirit in him.

" He said he was going to school and saw papa sneak into
' The Skip House.' My boy couldn't lie; ' sneak ' was the word
that came to him. Jack has no fine phrases. Just like his
mother, bless the darling's heart."

" Going to school, eh ? ' said I. " Muggins's apple-trees make
a fine observatory ; don't they, Jack ? '

Jack was not to be caught by this shot.

"Mamma," said the cunning youth, "what's papa talking
about?"

" He has only one subject, dear, and that is Muggins," was
the answer.

" Now wife," said I, dropping into an easy-chair and pick-
ing up a volume of Hazlitt, " your tongue is needlessly afflict-
ing. I am sick and disgusted with Muggins. You have given
me a life's distaste for Mugginsism, that I vow. Please change
the subject. Your chain was broken ; just to please you I went
to get it mended. I heard that an old watchmaker was at
1 The Skip House,' a man recommended by Dr. Klinkenslop
and the Lawtons in fact a kind of ward of theirs, I'm told ; so

1896.] A VILLAGE CYNIC. 379

again to please you, knowing your attachment for Klinkenslops
and Lawtons, I gave the old fellow the job. I could have had
it done elsewhere and quicker; I wish I had; don't think I'll
try and please you any more ; no use in trying. Woman's a
pretty fickle concern. Because Muggins owns 'The Skip House '
you imagine he must have been hid in a corner, waiting for
me a kind of a put-up job. Think so ? If your friends had
sent him to some other house I would not have had to endure
all this abuse ; but I can stand it." I opened the book and
pretended to read.

Tears came to my wife's eyes ; the battle was mine.

" William," she said, " you did just right ; the good doctor
is always doing works of mercy, and the Lawtons are not
human angels, William. Oh ! I am so glad you 'are interested
in their work. Their society, my dear, will be your uplifting.
This interest is positively an inspiration. I can see it in no
other light. It is an answer to my prayers. Just think how
pleased the doctor will be, and Jemima positively beside her-
self. * Mrs. Crawford,' said that beautiful old soul, ' your hus-
band will have the scales fall from his eyes. I pray unceas-
ingly for that, and through my prayers grace will come as rain
to drought, refreshing, warming up your indifferent husband.
Be patient ; his conversion is on the way.' I little thought
the day of my joy was so near. I am glad you left the chain ;
we can wait. The work will be well done, done in gratitude.
This is a deserving charity ; not like those horrid brutes that
go around the country those dirty tramps. I must visit the
old man and take a little reading matter along. Miss Jemima,
I dare say, has given him a few of those lovely tracts. Jack,
don't go asleep ; that's the only thing I have against you, dear
boy you did call Miss Jemima's tracts ' rot.' Fie, Jack ! what
a word ! You must have learned that from the Reeds. Miss
Lawton's tracts are lovely, Jack. Mamma could live on them.
What did he think of Aunt Fanny's present ? '

I mastered my impatience and talked about the weather.

My wife was inquisitive, as I had long known, and the
larger her inquisitiveness, the more docile to be cross-examined.

" You didn't tell me what he said about the chain," repeat-
ed my wife.

" He said it was a neat bit of work, a kind of old-fashioned ;
perhaps a keepsake. I had nothing to say, my ignorance on
the subject being Egyptian. I presume yours could easily
match mine."

380 A VILLAGE CYNIC. [Dec.,

" Well, all I know about it," sard my wife, " is the story
Aunt Fanny told me to make it more precious in my sight,
I thought at the time. You know Aunt Fanny was a bit
romantic a little touched, I always thought. Just think of
her actually believing everything that Dickens wrote, and cry-
ing over his books like a whipped child ; positively dreadful !
You could not get her to read a religious book ; no fear of
that, no tears for her sins. Aunt Fanny said that the chain
belonged to my mother's oldest sister; according to Aunt
Fanny, who used book-words, ' a most adorable lady, hazel eyes,
auburn hair, perfect form, a real heroine for a novel.'

" This silly miss, before she was eighteen, fell in love, accord-
ing to auntie's romance, ' with perfection itself a brilliant
young doctor.* Like all the Chesleys, she was full of spirit.
Love was short. Despite her parents, she ran off and married
him, made a fool of herself, disgraced the whole family. They
did the proper thing considered her dead, and notified her to
that effect all but Aunt Fanny, who thought May a kind of
goddess for indulging in her folly. Grandfather Chesley made
Aunt Fanny suffer for this nonsense. For, her support of
May cost her well you know how she was left, on a yearly
pension of a few hundreds. Of course it was Greek against
Greek. May never darkened her father's door. Even when
her coffin passed that way grandfather ran down the window-
blind and continued reading Baxter's Saints' Everlasting Rest.
It seems that the chap May got was handy ; so but I must
put Aunt Fanny's poetry to it to do justice. 'Hunter' -that
was the scamp's name ' wove her auburn tresses into a chain,
binding them with gold, and on that gold, type of immortal
love, chasing the initials of his love, M. M. May Morgan.'
This is the story, neither more nor less, of poor Aunt Fanny,
told to me one thousand times. I have it by heart. Dear
Aunt Fanny! how annoying she could be. How she hated the
Klinkenslops and the Lawtons ! Just think ! when she was on
her last legs ready, you might say, to perch elsewhere she
had to be propped up to read that farrago, Treasure Island.
'Wouldn't you like to see the Lawtons, aunt?'- -and I stooped
down and kissed her. Her eyes positively tore me. ' Lawtons !
-three old vinegar bottles ! ' she chirped."

" But," said I, after a pause, " what become of May's hus-
band ?"

My wife pursed her mouth.

" About Hunter : well, that's a short story. Her death, it

1896.] A VILLAGE CYNIC. 381

seems, was too much for his romantic disposition. He whined,
I was told, like a whipped cur for a year ; became owlish,
dark-living; frittered away his time and lost his practice. Then
he took at least that was the rumor to drugs and drink, and
suddenly went out of sight. Now and then his name was used
to point a moral. My mother I remember how solemnly she
used it to give us girls warning of the fate that awaits those
who marry against their parents' wishes. You remember, Wil-
liam, how I told you, when your intentions became known to
me, to conciliate my parents by church-going, exterior piety,
and a studied talk that would indicate you were older than
your age. The first night you took tea at our house papa just
devoured you, through his spectacles. When you left he called
us and said to mamma, ' Eliza, my dear, you may permit Imo-
gene to receive the calls of Mr. Crawford ; he is a goodly
young man."

" Ancient history, wife," said I. "With your training in
those days I certainly became an accomplished diplomat. I
won my case; but is that all you know of Uncle Hunter."

"William, are you losing your senses? Hunter Morgan,
that scamp, my uncle! How can you be so absurd? A drun-
ken drug-case my relation ? The villain who killed May and
pauperized Aunt Fanny."

" Well, wife, we will waive all claims ; continue the history,
if you happen to have any more scraps."

" I don't know much more ; he was not interesting. Aunt
Fanny said the last she heard was that he had been cured at a
hospital Vincent de Paul, or some such name of his drinking
and drugging, and was rambling through the country, making
a living by mending all kinds of trinkets. ' He was,' said foolish
Aunt Fanny, ' a regular painting in himself, fine as silk, and
as jolly as a squirrel during nutting time, when May took him,'
but when last heard of he was wrinkled and bent, serious and
soured, a pretty specimen for your son to claim relationship
with. I suppose," continued my wife with the graceful way
in which women forego logic, "every family has to have its
black sheep. This strolling watch-tinker is all the blot that
could be reckoned against the Chesley family. I am sure the
scamp, whether he reformed or not, died in some alms-house.
I hope he had manhood enough left to repent the sins of his
youth. I hardly think so."

My wife shook her head in a sad way, and went to the
kitchen a usual custom to order supper and scold the ser-
VOL. LXIV. 25

382 A VILLAGE CYNIC. [Dec.,

vant for blemishes and defects in her service as well as in the
dishes. A woman's eye is microscopic.

"The old philosopher of 'The Skip House,' thought I, as
I lit a cigar, and, lover of comfort as I am, stretched myself
on my lady's ornamental sofa, "is none other than our long-
lost uncle, the romantic fellow who wooed the flower of the
Chesley flock. What ups and downs in this little world ! How
strange his life ! How inextricably mixed the skein ! Every
time we put out our foot it has something to do with our
fellow-man. What thoughts must have danced through his old
brain as the watch-chain dangled in his hands ! No wonder
he was upset ! Not using any kind of artificial light has its
advantages sometimes. How a candle or a lamp would have
lit up his features and told plainer than speech his thoughts !
I do not wonder at his odd ways and quaint speech. Sorrow
acts like a cider-press : it squeezes the juice out of life. Had
death not thrown him out of the ordinary rut, I presume he
would have been a comfortable country doctor with a barn-full of
horses, a good house and fine lawn. Of course he would have
been a power in his village, head of some political party. Years
would have brought a fat bank account, good marriages for
his sons and daughters, a life of ease and quiet dignity. My
wife would have been eloquent on his skill, his success, his
winning ways. His life would have been sketched for Jack,
and the youth told daily to behold the model and religiously
round himself to it. Suffering hit him a heavy blow ; he reeled,
fell, only half arose ; so the world, preaching charity while dis-
owning it by practice, left him to shed life as best he could.
In the race of life he had no business to stop and fuss with
his shoe-strings ; the crowd, for that mistake, hurried over him."
I shut my eyes, the better that mental pictures might fill my
mind. I was soon dozing ; finally I slept.

I awoke in stupidity and surprise. There was a patter of
feet on the stairs. My wife was wringing her hands and lustily
crying. Jack was ill very ill. Muggins's stolen apples were
working, and our dear boy was groaning in a pitiable way that
touched my heart.

I was soon by his bedside, there to remain riveted for weeks.
What use to retell, and even in memory to live over, those
dark days and hopeless-looking nights passed by the side of
Jack's bed, his eyes swelling my heart and blinding my eyes?
How that sickness built him into my soul. During those weeks,
that were as years in the ravishment of his mother, all else

1896.] A VILLAGE CYNIC. 383

was forgotten Klinkenslops, Lawtons, " The Skip House,"
Hunter Morgan even poor Muggins, who made a daily call,
and with each call left some little touch of his kindness.

At length health shot a gleam into Jack's big, glazy eyes,
touched his pale lips with red, and incited his legs to open
mutiny against the billows of blankets that bound him. He re-
membered the place his mother had left off reading, and was
anxious to continue the tale. He was interested in other peo-
ple a good sign of health. I was free to leave his bed and
attend to business. The word that I was on the street brought
a crowd, as is the custom in Hinsley after a sick-trial, to con-
gratulate, express sympathy, give the news.

I then heard that the old watch-maker was nearing the end
of his tether, and a woman passing, dressed in blue with a
linen bonnet stretching out like bird's wings some kind of a
sister had taken pity on his wretchedness, and was watching
and waiting on him as if he were all she had in this world.

" But what are the Klinkenslops and Lawtons doing ? '
I asked. " Surely this is a case for their goodness and
bounty."

" Help that miserable old cuss ! ' said one of the crowd.
" He's new to the town ; let him go where he spent more time.
Dr. Klinkenslop says he should be sent to the alms-house at
once that's what he said, and he was right ; but Muggins and
one of them bonneted women took the cuss under their wings
-so let them hustle with him. I guess they're tired of their
job." ;1

I was ill at ease with this jabberer, so I excused myself and
hastened to "The Skip House," communing with myself regard-
ing the way that Christians, loudly proclaiming their love of
Him who was all charity, get rid of the Master's command to
practise it.

Through the windows of "The Skip House' I could see
the form of the bonneted woman who had passed me on the
street. My heart warmed to her. I entered the house. On
his lowly cot lay the old philosopher, holding a little crucifix
in his hand, smiling as sweetly as a child. Bending over him,
like a tender mother, was Sister Evangelista, as I later learned
her name to be. She was reading from a little book of the
philosopher's. Before she knew of my presence I heard these
words :

" Nothing is sweeter than love ; nothing stronger, nothing
higher, nothing more generous, nothing more pleasant, nothing

384 A VILLAGE CYNIC. [Dec.,

fuller or better in heaven or earth ; for love proceeds from
God, and cannot rest but in God, above all things created."

" I come, sister," said I, as she faced me, "to offer my ser-
vices. Your patient is my uncle by marriage ; my boy has
been sick ; to-day has been my first day out ; can I help-
money, assistance, anything, sister?'

Shall I ever forget her sweet voice. How that voice must
have comforted many a lonely heart !

" He has only at most a few hours to live," she replied.
" Everything has been done for him ; he is prepared, rather anx-
ious to * quit the flesh,' as he says. I learn that all his inter-
ests have long passed from this world, and where they are he
would, if it was God's mercy, be. I believe he lost his wife
early in life; afterwards 'he fell,' as he says, 'from grace,' but
hopes that his sorrows and tears have in some way washed
away these stains."

"Shall I take your place, sister; you must be wearied?'

" No ; I am not a bit tired. Mr. Morgan gives no trouble
to me. Here comes Mr. Muggins, the kindest man I have met
in my visits to the sick. He has been here night and day,
always cheery and good-natured ; but, pardon me, our patient
is taking a turn."

The sister knelt on the bare floor. Muggins entered and
followed her example, tears running down his cheeks.

" Lord have mercy on him,

Christ have mercy on him,"
chanted the sister, wiping the dying man's forehead.

" Lord have mercy on him,

Christ have mercy on him,"
repeated Muggins in a broken voice.

The old man's eyes dwelt on me ; his lips moved, but
speech was dead. Then they rested on Muggins lovingly ; then
passed to that gentle sister. One sigh, like a baby awakening
from sleep, a slight trembling, and the flesh-barrier was broken,
the spirit of Hunter Morgan fled.

" May he rest in peace ! ' said the sister.

" I will seek an undertaker," said I.

" Don't mind," said Muggins ; " I will see the thing out.
Here is a package' (pulling his hand from his pocket) "the
poor old, honest soul told me only last night to give to you ;
and by putting things together you could figure why."

I opened the package ; there was the chain neatly repaired,
and attached to it a little gold watch, with the initials " M. M."

1896.] A VILLAGE CYNIC. 385

" Could he be buried by his wife's side ? She rests, I heard
him say, in the Chesley plot," spoke the sister as she busied her-
self to depart.

"I promise you he will, sister. I am the guardian. These
long-separated lovers shall rest side by side in death."

" Good-by, sister," said Muggins, his eyes swimming and his
voice choked. " You have taught me there's more in life than
I thought ; it is easy to face death when the like of you keeps
watch. If ever the sisters run out of coal, remember Horace
Muggins has a coal-yard, and, with all his failings, gratitude
and a heart."

I watched her fleeing figure pass out of my sight, not
without tears. There are and I do not doubt but it was the
thought of Muggins some who follow and do the work of the
Master.

I left Muggins sitting on the old chair, with bowed head ;
the old philosopher in his last sleep clutching in his hands the
bronze crucifix ; and opened the street-door and passed out. A
yellow cur, spent-looking and hungry, was awaiting an opportu-
nity to enter, and, baffled in his endeavor, whined piteously.

A few leaves were dancing on the lawn ; the figure in the
window who had meditated long on the fall of their brothers,
meditated there no longer. Glimpses and outlines and half-
knowledge had given way to the full sun of truth ; he had
cast away darkness and put on the armor of light.

Many years have passed ; Jack has attained his manhood,
and I am no longer young. His models have not been Dr.
Klinkenslop or the Lawton sisters, but rough, dear old Mug-
gins and the gentle Sister Evangelista. He has been taught
to hold, with his Uncle Morgan, that " there is something good
in every man for the mining."

THE LIGHT-HOUSE ON AR-MEN.

1896.]

HOLY BRITTANY.

387

HOLY BRITTANY.

PY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

HAT bodes that mist-pall so weird and

wan ? '
On the Drummond Castle * the captain

cried.

" Ho, watch ! where's the Ushant head-
light gone,

And the fire from Creach we but now espied ?
There's naught to be seen but the fog's white sheet,"

Comes the voice from aloft like a funeral knell,
And there on the bow goes the warning bell

From the brow of Molene where the low rocks meet. 1

The doomed ship paused on her headlong way;

Her engines' throbbing grew still with fear;
Through the mist commingled with sheets of spray

Unearthly tumult breaks on the ear.
High o'er the roar of the ravening sea

Comes the dismal shriek of the long-lost dead ;

From lone Ar-Men to the Green Rocks dread
The coffinless drowned yell in dismal glee :

"A welcome, ho! to the gay and fair

Who full of high hope to sleep have flown ;

On the threshold of home sea-maids prepare
To lead them in dreams into realms unknown.

They'll tarry with us till the trumpet calls
From ocean and desert the bones of old,
And our ghosts shall roam till, the sun grown cold,

On the drama of passion the curtain falls.

" O'er the tireless crests of the limitless wave,
On the hurricane's pinions, to flee for aye ;

With the eldritch music of ocean-cave

To mingle their sighs till the judgment day.

* The Drummond Castle, with two hundred and fifty souls, was lost through striking the
low rocks off the island of Molene on the night of June 17, 1896, only three persons being
saved. The bodies washed ashore were buried by the people of the island, the cure of
Molene reading the burial service and delivering a touching address.

3 88

HOLY BRITTANY.

[Dec.,

REVICTUALING THE LIGHT-HOUSE.

No green mound theirs, with its cross or stone,
Moistened by tears of the loved ones lorn;
When the spirit's loosed from its fleshly bourne

No requiem chant shall the priest intone.

" Our triremes, ages ago, from Tyre,

With hearts as buoyant, swept o'er this sea ;

1896.]

HOLY BRITTANY.

389

gSs*^ >^:1MI0<* +

THE BAY OF THE DEAD, BRITTANY.

Our homage was given to Baal of fire ;

To Jupiter Tonans some bowed the knee.
On Caesar's galleys our standards flew

Ere the cross in Britain had reared its sign ;

From foemen's skulls we have quaffed our wine,
We of kin to the blood which men call blue.

390 HOLY BRITTANY. [Dec.,

"All drunk with carnage and spoil we sank-

Norseman, Italian, and Algerine-
While the burning fane on the river's bank,

By the rifled cloisters, lit all the scene.
Sank we in full sight of the ruined coast,

With a hymn to Odin or curse on God,

Whose scourge we had been where'er we trod.
Now, gentles, come join ye the Pagan host ! '

One crash one wail of despair ah, woe !

The great boat reels as she beats the rock ;
Then a mighty plunge to the depths below

Ere her sleeping hundreds had felt the shock.
The prayer unbreathed died on the lip,

The shriek of the maddened was instant hushed

In the whelming sea, as it inward rushed,

When down the abyss leaped the living ship.
. . .

But spirits of light guard all that coast

And charity boundless sways supreme ;
The peasant becomes the most noble host

When the sacred dead to his lintel stream ;
And reverent fingers arrange each tress

Of the maiden's hair from the flood redeemed ;

Each cold-stiff hand, whether soft or seamed,
God's crucifix clasps in a close caress.

The lily, the pansy, and immortelle

Are sadly blent o'er each hasty bier,
And the children's chants and the passing bell

Float up to where God and his angels hear ;
And his priest anointed uplifts his hand

And a blessing invokes on the unshrived dead,

And, the cross of the Saviour high overhead,
Now they sleep in God in a Christian land.

No thought of race, or condition, or creed,

In the true-souled Breton a place can find-
God's image is seen in each brother in need ;

Humanity's chain the wide world doth bind.
Ineffable love ! how thy touch dispels
The spectres of rancor and selfish care,
In a union of hope and a garland of prayer
Binding all hearts like sweet Angelus bells !

1896.] THE MISSIONARY OUTLOOK IN CANADA.

THE MISSIONARY OUTLOOK IN CANADA.

BY REV. WALTER ELLIOTT.

RECHIN is a hamlet of a score or two of famil-
ies, amid a rich farming district, the people of
the surrounding country being equally divided
between Catholic and non-Catholic. We have a
good church and pastoral residence, a first-rate
Separate School, and Father Kenneth J. McRae, of Scotch
Catholic stock, is an efficient pastor. The Methodists have a
pretty little church, which is used also by members of other
Protestant denominations, but there is no resident minister.

A Catholic mission preceded the non-Catholic one, and was
well attended and earnestly made by the Catholic farmers.
The time was favorable, the people not being crowded with
work, the fall ploughing having been mostly done.

The hall for our non-Catholic mission was the upper room
of a building used to store agricultural implements. It was
nicely ceiled with pine and well lighted ; but it was small, and
was entered only through the dark store-room below, and it
could accommodate scarcely two hundred. Our first attendance
fell considerably short even of that number, and our hopes fell
to the freezing point. However, we opened the evening exer-
cises with cheerful faces, our audience of mixed Catholics and
Protestants paying careful attention.

The musical "outfit' was somewhat singular. We had
been offered the Brechin orchestra, "all Protestants," as said
the pastor. But when it was learned that we must borrow the
only available piano from one of the Catholic hotel-keepers,
whose bar-room we had vigorously attacked during the Catho-
lic mission, the pastor objected, and so did the missionary.
Thus the orchestra lacked one of its instruments. Two violins
were the sum total of the remainder for the first meeting,
reinforced afterwards by a 'cello. The first violin asked me if
it made any difference if the music was not religious. I an-
swered, " Not a bit." But I was a trifle amused when they
gave us regular hoe-downs ; I dared not look at the young
people present, who must have remembered the jigs with a
penitential pang, for some sharp things had been said in the
mission sermons against certain dancing parties. Anyway, our
orchestra played well and added greatly to the attractiveness

392 THE MISSIONARY OUTLOOK IN CANADA. [Dec.,

of the meetings, for they were with us some of the evenings
after we adjourned to the church. This we did, because word
had come to us that we should do better by using the church,
and Father McRae suggested that we take a vote of those
present at the first meeting in the hall. The case was ex-
plained to the audience, the vote was put, and we were sur-
prised that all but one voted for the church. In fact and
this is curious we learned that the Protestants felt a little
hurt because we chose the hall in preference to the church ;
"for," said they, "you seem to think that we are too bigoted
to go to the Catholic Church." The adjournment was a good
move. The church seats about three hundred, and we filled it
every night, about half being non-Catholics. Saturday and Sun-
day nights we had rousing meetings, the church being packed.

Some Protestants drove from Beaverton, nine miles away,
and others even from Kirkfield, sixteen miles. All paid strict
attention both to the lectures and the questions and answers.
They expressed themselves agreeably disappointed that they
did not get a warmer, or rather a hotter reception. " We
thought," said they, " that he would pitch into us, but he only
explained Catholicity." A few of them may have hoped to
carry away a challenge, or some other excuse to strike back.
But they got Catholicity pure and simple, trimmed with olive
branches. A few of the questions, however, indicated that this
good food was bitter medicine to some of our hearers.

Most of the non-Catholics came steadily every night, includ-
ing some of the leading men of the village and vicinity. Nota-
ble among the audience were those whom we are used to say
ought to be Catholics, the fruit of mixed marriages, brought
up rigid Presbyterians or staunch Methodists. The Catholic
farmers were zealous and successful in securing our audience ;
and this was all the more necessary because there is no
newspaper in the village.

A Protestant who lives in the village has for some time
been wanting to join the church, but his wife and people-in-
law have held him back. He insisted on attending the lectures,
and they all declared that they would go with him to see that
he came back safe, as it were. No doubt the end will be sev-
eral converts in this family. Their notion was like that of the
Irishman, who being annoyed of a wintry night by a dog's howl-
ing with the cold, went out and stood over him with a stick
till morning came.

There is a Scotch Presbyterian family in the village who
edify the Catholic pastor by driving six miles to their church,

1896.] THE MISSIONARY OUTLOOK IN CANADA. 393

rain or shine, every Sunday. Some of this family attended
the lectures and were deeply interested.

Among the questions was one affirming justification by faith
alone, a novelty in our experience, and showing the primitive
type of Protestantism in this part of Canada ; also Margaret
L. Sheppard was spoken of as " a respectable young lady" ! An-
other question was pertinent and impertinent: "' Except a man
be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God ' (St. John
iii. 3). Are you born again ? ' The answer was a brief explan-
ation of the Catholic doctrine of justification, or conversion to
the friendship of God, including the use of the sacraments.

Literature was a prominent feature in this mission. During
the Catholic part we announced the sale of Plain Facts for ten
cents a copy, promising that for every 6ne sold to a Catholic
we would give another away to a non-Catholic. We sold one
hundred and twenty-three, and gave away one hundred and
thirty-seven, and so two hundred and sixty good books were
left in this parish, half at least in the hands of Protestants.
Farmers usually read slowly and thoughtfully, and our Saviour's
religion will gain some converts from this expedient, and pre-
judice will be greatly lessened. As the books cost but five
dollars a hundred, I should have been reimbursed by this ar-
rangement (excepting freight charges) only for the big Cana-
dian tariff duty, which is six cents a pound ! But the recom-
pense was ample in giving first-rate Catholic books to Presby-
terians, whose usual blue tint is shaded with orange. One lady,
however, would not take even a leaflet, and when it was pressed
on her rejected it angrily. But this was the only case of the
kind we heard of, all gladly accepting books and leaflets.

We invited our non-Catholic friends to attend Mass on the
closing Sunday. A good many did so, and they not only heard
the sermon but followed the Mass attentively, being provided
by Father McRae with non-Catholic Mass-books.

The weather favored us greatly, being a good specimen of
that finest of seasons, the Canadian autumn, clear as crystal,
brisk and bracing. The moon shone out brightly every night,
lighting the farmers on their journeys to and from the lectures.
And so we ended Brechin, being well content with the results.

AT UXBRIDGE.

From first to last this mission was very well attended by
our separated brethren, and the hall was often crowded beyond
the comfort-line. We could manage to squeeze in three hun-
dred perhaps a score beyond that. The proportion was be-

394 THE MISSIONARY OUTLOOK IN CANADA. [Dec.,

tween twenty-five and fifty Catholics to two hundred and fifty
Protestants. These were representative, including the best men
and women in the town, lawyers, doctors, and politicians, store-
keepers, and prominent people generally.

This town is just like many a handsome little city in New
England, Ohio, and Michigan, with its public library, fine
churches, a circle of educated people, and a cultured tone. All,
or nearly all, seem ready to discuss religion, are church-goers,
and especially active in temperance work.

The query-box was very interesting at Uxbridge, there be-
ing a hat-full of questions every night, ranging over the usual
ground, with, however, some plain tokens of a pretty high
grade of intelligence. The music, nearly all contributed by
Protestants, was remarkably good, and would have graced meet-
ings in any musical centre, being scientific and expressive.

There are but forty Catholic families here, mostly farmers,
making one of three stations served by the zealous pastor,
Father Andrew O'Malley. The Catholics were much pleased
with the mission, and exerted themselves earnestly to secure an
audience of non-Catholics no very difficult matter, however.
There were Catholic mission services in the church every morn-
ing, which were well attended by our own people, some farmers
driving twenty miles with their families.

The sum total of attention given us by the ministers of the
place was one of them sadly gazing into the crowded hall from
the sidewalk, and two others intriguing to hinder Protestant
musicians from playing and singing for us. The Methodist
church had extra services every night, with heavy bell-ringing.
All in vain ; we got their people to listen to us, to take our
literature, and to think well of the Catholic faith.

The weather was very pleasant, being the first breath of
Indian summer, with radiant skies and delightful breezes.

A message came from a neighboring town asking for some
lectures. It was sent by the leading Protestants, doctors and
lawyers and merchants, there being but one Catholic in the fif-
teen hundred inhabitants. Doubtless in course of time every
such place in the English-speaking Dominion will enjoy the privi-
lege of non-Catholic missions. The field is fertile, equally so
with the United States, and needs only the seed of the word
of God to bring forth an abundant harvest.

The Catholics of Ontario are among the best in the world,
meaning both clergy and people. The same may be said of
our brethren in the other provinces of the Dominion. We may,
therefore, expect a powerful missionary development among

1896.] THE MISSIONARY OUTLOOK IN CANADA. 395

them in the near future, for no apostolic opportunities will be
allowed by the Catholic Church to pass unimproved in the new
nation to whom God has given the northern regions of this
continent. The non-Catholic Canadians are readily brought to
hear and read the truth, and their Catholic fellow-countrymen
are alive to this providential opening. Neither the Archbishop
of Toronto nor his priests were greatly surprised at the large
attendance we gained at our lectures there this fall, though
mightily pleased. They know that the Protestants can be
reached. Much good missionary work has already been done.
Converts are found everywhere, generally of the more intelli-
gent kind of people, often of the most unpromising religious
antecedents. The Apostolate of the Press is being well ad-
vanced, branches of the Catholic Truth Society being in active
operation in some of the larger cities. In Toronto, for in-
stance, that society, besides its general usefulness, publishes a
missionary weekly journal, The Impartial Witness, and distributes
it free to five thousand people of all religions ; a venture which,
we trust, will' soon be made permanent and self-supporting.

As to French Canada, we may be certain that its faithful
pastors and hierarchy, serving a truly Catholic people, will
stand their ground against error of every kind. And there is
need of that militant spirit which characterizes them, for the
enemy is excessively busy in attempting to make perverts among
them.

In New England the Protestant missionary societies are
hard at work among French Canadian Catholics. One cannot
say that they have really succeeded, because the Canadians in
New England, though mostly poor and often simple, are a
bright people, high-spirited, and generally are well instructed.
But a persistent propaganda makes some headway in a popu-
lation often hard pushed for a living and of a semi-migratory
habit. It is a grief to find an occasional Protestant French
Canadian minister, who was captured as a boy, and brought up
and educated by these societies. Taking the whole work they
do, we find their little mission churches in many large factory
towns in New England, often in the Province of Quebec itself,
with a ministry numbering many scores of active French
Canadian proselytizers, perverts or children of perverts, including
some abominable apostate priests, with a total enrollment of
several thousand Protestant French Canadian church-members, at
least according to the official reports no very reliable authority.

I have written this statement for the purpose of asking the
hierarchy, priesthood, and people of French Canada how

396 THE MISSIONARY OUTLOOK IN CANADA. [Dec.,

many Catholic missionaries of their race are busy among Pro-
testants making converts to the true faith ?

Hundreds of thousands of dollars are yearly spent by Pro-
testants to pervert French Canadian Catholics, in the United
States and around the very shrines of Catholic orthodoxy in
Quebec Province. How much money is spent by this injured
Church of Christ in making reprisals ? A rich Massachusetts
Yankee has actually endowed the work of perversion in his
State with a large sum of money, and thus has made it per-
petual. Is there any equivalent fund for the expenses of a
Catholic French Canadian Apostolate among Protestants?

Meantime the race of Quebec is finely endowed for the
office of missionary. Their priesthood is well educated and
zealous, their bishops are prelates of dignity and learning, their
public men abound with orators, jurists, statesmen. The French
Canadian is an easy winner in every race of intellect, as is
seen in Wilfred Laurier, the prime minister of the Dominion
and the laureate of political eloquence in both languages,
acknowledged so in a land full of fine speakers. The least
acquaintance with the race shows, indeed, a failing to make
and save money as fast as other races, but in the divine art of
persuasion, and in the professions of law and medicine, and
music and art, and journalism, and as educators, they have a
real superiority. And if you want the ideal missionary of our
day, follow the course of the dreary rivers and lakes of the
North-west, or the bleak shores of Labrador, and you will find
among the savage tribes of those desolate regions French Cana-
dian priests and nuns of such heroic type that you feel as
Daniel the prophet felt in the presence of the angel.

Now, inasmuch as nearly all their educated men are as
facile with English as with French, and the " born orator ' is
a common product of this ancient Gallic stock, we may look
for noble souls becoming missionaries to their non-Catholic
countrymen. We may well trust to their power against those
scavengers of the tribes of Israel, the emissaries of Protest-
ant missionary societies, unclean birds living on the offal of
the camp of the people of God. The least acquaintance with
Protestant French Canadian missionaries shows them to be
sharks following Peter's bark, greedy for the carcasses of the
dead, harboring fallen priests and swindling impostors, and other
outcasts of society. We believe that no work in this era would
-please God better than that of French Canadian missionaries
working among non-Catholics, and also that none would sue
ceed better in making converts.

1896.] LABOR STATISTICS OF RUSSIAN FACTORIES. 397

LABOR STATISTICS OF RUSSIAN FACTORIES.

BY HERMANN SCHOENFELD,
U. S. ex-Consul to Riga, Russia,

'HE recent strikes and labor troubles all over the
strong manufacturing centres of European
Russia revealed a state of affairs which drives
even the patient, long-enduring Russian laborer
to the last resort of the grievously oppressed,
violence and strikes. To understand the condition of the
Russian laborer, which is wretched beyond imagination, we must
study the evolution of industrial manufactures in the Russian
Empire under the system of an almost prohibitory protective
tariff during the past two decades, slackened only a little by
the recent commercial treaty with Germany, and the unequal
pace which labor kept with the progress and success of the
manufacturers. The system of protection was carried on to
such immoderate dimensions that the fierce tariff war of retalia-
tion which Germany waged against Russian agricultural products
-upon which Russian wealth, after all, mainly depends made
the break-down of the prohibitory tariff absolutely necessary. It
is true, under the protective system factories and manufactur-
ing establishments increased within twenty-five years (1865-1890)
by 3,285, or 23 per cent. ; the export of their products by
606,880,000 rubles, or 205 per cent. ; the number of laborers by
324,132, or 88 per cent. This was certainly a success. Some
manufactures became prosperous, and above all their products
home-made ; a class of merchant princes, scores of them
foreigners, sprang up in Russia, in wealth equal to any of the
wealthiest in England or America. But there are other points
to the question. The normal conditions of exchange between
the manufacturers and the tillers of the soil, who constitute such
a vast majority in Russia, while the number of all the laborers
in all the factories, mills, and mines (excepting, of course, all
criminals employed as laborers) constitutes but ij^ per cent, of
the entire Russian population, are of such a nature that im-
moderate profits drawn by the former entail corresponding
heavy losses upon the latter i. e., the broad mass of the Rus-
sian people. The earnings from the poorly-paid farm products
are divided between the manufacturers of farm utensils and
machines and the taxing treasury.
VOL. LXIV. 26

398 LABOR STATISTICS OF RUSSIAN FACTORIES. [Dec.,

LOW CONDITION OF MANUFACTURES.

But the most unfortunate of all is the condition of the
laboring classes in the factories and mills. Professor Karisheff,
certainly an unbiased witness, has given us some valuable data
to that effect in the well-known economic magazine Russ Bo-
gatstvo (Russian Wealth). How primitive the state of manu-
facturing life in Russia still is, in comparison with the principal
industrial nations, appears from the fact that against the \y
per cent, of the entire Russian population engaged in labor in
factories and mills there are 52.7 per cent, of the population
of the United Kingdom, 31.5 per cent, of Germany, 27.5 per
cent, of Austria, 26.7 per cent, of Italy, 22.9 per cent, of France
engaged in the same pursuit.

And the methods of manufacturing are still very poor owing
to the fact that technical and industrial schools were built up
only during the last thirty years (cf. " Report of the Commis-
sioner of Education," 1890-91, vol. i. pp. 243 ff). No wonder,
then, that since the armistice after the tariff war with Germany
two years ago (for an armistice it only is) the import of
German manufacturing goods has immensely increased. It is
an unfortunate fact that, after many years of paternal protec-
tion of the iron and metal industries, a plough (lo-inch) can be
made in Germany for 2 rubles 72 copeks, while the cost of
production in Russia is 5 rubles 60 copeks, although as we
will soon show labor is exceedingly cheap in Russia.

And cheap labor is a curse, a terrible cause of physical and
mental degradation in the Russian laborer. Since labor which
requires more or less of muscular strength is being performed
by machines in Russia as well as anywhere else, a laborer
though physically weak is just as much worth as a strong work-
ing-man, if he only be skilled, agile, and active. This is the
reason why women's and children's labor has increased in terri-
ble proportion. Mr. Dementieff, in his very interesting book, The
Factory : What it gives and what it takes from the -People, fur-
nishes a valuable account of Russian factory life and the con-
ditions of Russian labor.

Many laborers leave the mills in summer to cultivate their
fields at home ; others, while working in the cities all the year
round, leave their wives and children in their country homes,
thus preserving their connecting ties with agricultural pursuits.
But as soon as the laborer transfers his wife and children to
the factory to make them earn their own scanty living, every
connection with healthy country life is severed.

1896.] LABOR STATISTICS OF RUSSIAN FACTORIES. 399

CAUSES OF PHYSICAL DEGENERACY.

By the common work and life of men and women in the
factories a new generation arises which was heretofore unknown
in Russia, but which, borne and born by mothers who to the
day of deliverance toil on, bears the stamp of oppressive, ex-
hausting overwork on its forehead. Those who feel an interest
in this new generation which has passed from agriculture to
factory work ex projesso, and in the lives of these laborers ex-
ploited by unscrupulous factory owners, may be referred to
DementierTs above-mentioned book. It suffices here to give
the following schedule of working hours, carefully collected
from the Moscow factories :

Hours of Work daily. Number of Factories.

(1) Less than 12 10 per cent.

(2) 12 to 12% 29

(3) 13 and i3j 44

(4) 14 and 14^ 1 1.6

(5) 15 to 18 5.4 "

To show the difference we let the working-men's hours in
Massachusetts follow :

Hours of Work daily. Number of Factories.
8 to 8^4 1.7 per cent.

II It

a
u

10 80.9 "

to 12 2.1 " "

While, therefore, the Russian laborer in the Moscow factor-
ies works 100 hours, regardless of the many fasting and holidays
when Russian factories must stop, the American laborer works
only 85.1, the English but 78.3 hours, distributed over a longer
time, since he has not so many holidays, so that there are by
far less working days and by far more working hours for the
Russian laborer.

Another way of getting back as much as possible of the
working-men's small wages is the system practised in many
factories of feeding and housing them by and in the factory.
The working-men frequently resist this onslaught on their per-
sonal freedom, but mostly without avail. It is just to state
that only 6.1 per cent, of the Moscow factories indulge in this

sharp practice.

FAMINE WAGES.

As for the distribution of wages, the pay of a woman
amounts to three-quarters of that of a man, that of a boy or
girl of twelve to seventeen years to one-half, that of a child

400 LABOR STATISTICS OF RUSSIAN FACTORIES. [Dec.,

under twelve years to one-third of a grown man's wages. The
advantage arising for the factories from women's and children's
wages is such that no humanitarian attempts have been as yet
able to solve that harassing problem in any civilized country.
But as the wages of working-men in Russia are absolutely
reduced to a minimum, and scarcely sufficient to keep soul and
body together for more than thirteen hours' daily toil, it is a
cruel and gross injustice to cut working-women's wages by a
third, since the first necessaries of life are alike in men and
women regardless of sex. The monthly wages of an adult
laborer, man or woman, in England are 2j{ times (124.05 per
cent.), in America 4f (379.14 per cent.) times, greater than the
wages of a like laborer in the Moscow factories. Since, how-
ever, the duration of working time in the three countries is
different, Mr. Dementieff has reduced the comparison of wages
per hour, and come to the conclusion that wages in England
are by 284.5 P er cent., in Massachusetts by 423 per cent., higher
than those in the Moscow factories.

If we make a good allowance for the higher cost of living
in America which, however, is to be understood cum grano
salts, only the luxuries of life being dearer here, not the neces-
saries like meat, flour, bread still no comparison can be
drawn between the mode of living of an American and a Rus-
sian laborer.

A GOLD STANDARD AND A PROTECTIVE TARIFF.

As this source, which has passed through the rigid Russian
censorship, cannot be but trustworthy, it is high time that the
Russian government should pay strict attention to this all-
important branch of its population. But to us it is a conclu-
sive proof that a high protective tariff does not necessarily
protect the native laboring classes. Nor does it help the over-
worked, starving Russian laborers who, the first time in Rus-
sian history, are driven by despair to concerted action of vio-
lence, that as the great French economist, Leroy-Beaulieu,
informs us " the Imperial Bank of Russia has at the present
moment the largest gold reserve in the whole world, namely,
two milliards one hundred and thirty millions of francs (about
$420,000,000)." No high tariff and no gold standard will raise
the Russian toilers from bondage and serfdom, though physi-
cal servitude be abolished, to a standard of humanity, but the
purification of the government, an ethical culture of the higher
strata of Russian society, and an all-pervading, genuine Chris-
tian spirit free from the petrified form of Byzantinism.

1896.] THE LAYING OF GHOSTS. 401

THE LAYING OF GHOSTS.

BY HENRY AUSTIN ADAMS, M.A.

HE watcher of things in general in this day and
generation of ours has good reason to thank
God and take courage.

That were indeed a mean and narrow view
which would deny in the coming century a
cordial appreciation of much not commonly accepted nor un-
derstood by this.

Men seem to be, above all things, intent on getting at the
facts. May heaven help all those respectable old bugaboos,
the brood of Prejudice and Fear, when " facts at all cost ' be-
comes the cry !

Calmest of living men, the Catholic can wait for such a
fire-test with sweet composure.

In fact, to one thus rooted and grounded in the truth, the
crumbling of old creeds and scurrying away of ghosts from
immemorial haunts of human fancy, becomes the source of not
a little mirth.

Could anything surpass, in genial humor, the breaking up
of that Walpurgis-night of anti-Catholic ghost stories hereto-
fore known as "History"?

How they soar away astride their broomsticks, those hoary
hags of " no-popery," those nightmare furies of " Babylon " !

Morning was late, but it came ! The cock crowed at length.
Farewell, ye sermons, ye pamphlets, ye horrors of the convent,
plainly revealed by Mr. and Mrs. Ex-Something ! For three
long hundred years the English-reading world had known one
" Rome." The pulpit thundered at her walls ; the very novel-
ist (frequently knowing better, as Walter Scott) heightened the
horrors of his tale by whispered innuendoes ! Gibbons and
Froudes lied with great learning, while Punch and an innumera-
ble army of Rev. Chadbands added the comic touch. Then
morning broke. " It is a certain evidence of being ill-bred,"
says a great English critic, " to betray ignorance of Catholic
affairs and teaching." Tempora mutantur !

Not less in our own country than in England have Catho-
lics much cause for gratitude for an extending knowledge and
appreciation of their real beliefs.

402 THE LAYING OF GHOSTS. [Dec.,

In fact, it is a question if we have not the more advanced
in this respect. Certain it is that very little purposely mali-
cious ignorance finds its way now into our public prints.
Never was such a harvest ripe for the reaper as is the great,
warm-hearted, and truth-loving people of these United
States.

No really fixed and persistent effort of any standing or re-
spectability seems making now against the faith in our beloved
country ; and any one with half an eye can see that on all sides
the cultured ministry of the denominations are rapidly assum-
ing the position that history consists of facts, and that in
ascertaining, not confusing them, lies the historian's function,
and learning's only life.

In England a glorious work is being quietly accomplished,
by a society of laymen (under ecclesiastical direction) known as
the Catholic Truth Society ; or more particularly in this con-
nection, by a committee, or branch society, whose pleasant and
important duty it is to keep a sharp lookout for all that Part-
ingtonian nonsense that finds its way into the newspapers.

Very seldom in these days does one find anywhere a truly
direct and intentional attack upon the church. The newspapers
are much too politic to lend themselves to bitter controversies,
while other writers dabble as dilettante entertainers, if at all.

But while this happy state of things cannot be longer ques-
tioned, the retreat of the old nightmares has not been unat-
tended with grim humors which he who runs may read.

The modern metropolitan reporter, or clever novelist, is not
a theologian, let us thank the stars, and the result is that the
public need no longer shudder at the thought of Jesuits in dis-
guise and secret, underground connections with that? headquar-
ters of the dark and dubious the Vatican !

But this is not the only way in which the change is charm-
ing. The innocence of these dear people (that is, their inno-
cence as regards the odium theologicum) contributes to our hap-
piness in other ways.

I will go the length of saying that not a small share in the
glory of having banished the old standard lies belongs to the
delicious blundering of these well-meaning gentry of the press.

Study and investigation and the dawn of culture had dis-
lodged old errors ; but it required this up-to-date reductio ad ab-
surdum to complete the work.

Observe and tremble Dogberry sits again !

Let us examine what we mean, under three heads :

1896.] THE LAYING OF GHOSTS. 403

i. The policy and purposes of the Hierarchy; 2. The mean-
ing of Catholic customs; 3. Our doctrines and history.

I-

What day passes in which the Morning Self-Content does
not put us into possession of the very latest (and still unpub-
lished) move on the part of the Pope ?

From an unimpeachable authority the editor has learned
that Rev. Dr. So-and-So has been appointed a secret commis-
sioner to Li Hung Chang the object of the mission being to
forestall a move of the Czar to introduce Buddhism into Tim-
buctoo ! " One very close to Cardinal Rampolini, prefect of
the Pope's private detective service," furthermore declares that
"the ulterior object is to throw Europe into a general war,
under cover of which the Jesuits hope to creep back into
Schleswig-Holstein " !

Poor Timbuctoo ! Poor Europe ! And all this merely to
allow two or three meek Jesuit fathers to slip back to teach
a score of little Schleswig-Holsteiners " who made them"!

Again : While a breathless world awaits the catastrophe
darkly foretold " in these dispatches ' yesterday, we read to-
day that something much nearer home has transpired, which,
so heinous is it and " un-American," that anybody can see that
it rings the knell of Rome's autocracy ! Rumors reached the
sanctum of the Morning Self-Content that there was trouble in
" high ecclesiastical circles," and an armor-clad youth of eighteen
was sent forthwith to interview the cardinal.

Cardinals have a way of being busy. He was busy. His
eminence's secretary had a way of being sweetly but swiftly
brusque. He was both. Nothing now was left but the house-
maid. She knew her place. So, pad in hand, from the purely
disinterested view-point of an outsider (the door had been
slammed finally), the representative of the great journal
proceeded to write up the " Schism Threatening the Hier-
archy." .

" One very near his eminence," he began and this was true,
for at that blessed moment the cardinal was not twenty feet
off, inside the house ! " one very near his eminence is authori :
ty for the statement, etc., etc."

To such a pass do these newsmongers go that it is safe to
assume that nobody now takes them seriously ; with the result
that, discredit having fallen on their words, a patient public
waits with increasing trust the calm and dignified solution of

404 THE LA YING OF GHOSTS. [Dec.,

all moot questions. Especially does this hold good in Euro-
pean matters. Time was when any phrase would do, and any
nonsense pass. Who knew or cared to what high-sounding
functionary in the Roman Curia this or that silliness might be
attributed ? But times have changed, and men's ideas with
them. The morning canard, stamped on its very face a coun-
terfeit or forgery, tends, I maintain, to-day to put all anti-
Catholic outbursts in the same category.

Let men assail, surmise, prejudge, predict, misstate as much
or often as they will, in the event the old church looms glori-
ously up before us. and the world admits it.

Our policy, therefore, should be to point out constantly and
with unfailing kindness these last queer vestiges of ancient,
tattered myths. They serve to raise a laugh and not at
truth !

II.

Less vital but still more amusing are our friends' attempts
to explain, sometimes maliciously and sometimes not, our cus-
toms and our creeds. A dear old lady once inquired why I
submitted to a church in which they killed a goat on Fridays !
She knew it, for she read it in the paper with her own eyes !
Result : an opportunity to explain to a good old soul, for the
first time, the ineffable tragedy of the Altar.

She will believe nothing she reads in which the Church of
God is libelled, having been once so cruelly victimized.

Shortly after my own conversion I was startled upon read-
ing, in a by no means sensational or ignorant paper, a state-
ment to the effect that, after being in retreat for some length
of time, and looking carefully into the question, I had decided
to be "a Jesuit Provincial"!

This gave my old friends most offence. It was bad enough
in me to turn papist; worse to "join the Jesuit branch' (one
correspondent put it) ; but to deliberately become a Provincial !
This indeed was cruel. Explanations developed the fact that
nobody (of them) knew just what a provincial was, but sup-
posed it was some very exaggerated and virulent form of
" Jesuitism."

A Western newspaper kindly explained that bishops " in
partibus ' came from somewhere in Asia Minor, and owed their
name to the fact that they were allowed to marry !

At a recent ceremony the archbishop wore a " canopy," and
had a magnificent " thurifer ' on his head and survived ! In

1896.] THE LAYING OF GHOSTS. 405

London I once read of three heavy thurifers being hung from
the chancel arch for no specified crime !

Quite confidentially a friend asked if we ate positively nothing
but ashes on Ash Wednesday. Gray ghosts these, and scurry-
ing fast before the glow of the morning. They will haunt the
world never again.

It must be seen that on such a level it cannot be hard to
combat what remains of the real, old delusions.

III.

Lastly, a word or two about doctrine and history.

The writing of history has become a new science. And in
appeals to fact who holds with truth need fear for nothing.
No truly cultured man to-day indulges his inheritance of hate
and prejudice at the expense of his claim to learning. This
used to be done ; it is not now.

Consequently, nine-tenths of the old stock-in-trade of anti-
Catholic " facts ' are abandoned. This leaves but a margin of
innocent ignorance, for the fools to fly into print about.

And just there is our delicate, nice opportunity. No need
to combat. Explain that a thurifer is a man or a boy and
down he will come from his perch on the archbishop's head,
and the three from their gibbet in that English chancel ! Com-
mon sense is a power. And so will it be with great part of
our doctrines. Let these friendly foes rush into print. Their
own wisest and best can be quoted against them to-day. The
art impulse, the intellectual trend, the spiritual sweep, all of
the forces of the age, make for the end of all that was the very
heart and meaning of the opposition one little day ago. A
laugh, a kindly reference to dictionaries, a trip abroad, a sim-
ple book or two, and Presto! all is changed.

There is much surely to be done by Truth Societies, if in
naught else than in this daily run into the land of laughter.

And there are multitudes whose sole remaining opposition
to the church rests on some phantom loitering later than the
rest, a spectre that would vanish from his sight could he but
hear the merriment in a parochial school in which the children
should be shown that ghost.

THRUMS does not thrive in a London atmos-
phere, as any one may perceive by reading Mr. J.
M. Barrie's latest work, Sentimental Tommy* Very
little trace is there in it of the original piquancy
of the Thrums philosophy. It would be strange if
it were otherwise. Mr. Barrie's mentality is not proof against
wear and tear any more than any other author's. The groove
which he has made for himself, fortified though it be with the
" pawkiness ' of Lowland Scotch phraseology, must in time
bevel at the edges, as any other groove will. It is no dispar-
agement to the author to say that he has had to bow to the
inevitable.

It is a curious literary undertaking, this chronicle of a
Scotch sentimentalist. Its design is, we infer, to track the
phenomenon from the cradle to the church-yard. Only the
story of his earlier days fills the present instalment. It is in
the main part a very gloomy sort of comedy. Tommy Sandys
and his sister, Elspeth, are the children of a man who had
deserted their mother. This man was a sort of Lochinvar,
whose feats were in the betting-ring, not the border forays.
He had carried off his bride from the side of another whom
she loved, but who was too cowardly to fight for her, and he
deserted the woman when he had tired of supporting her.
Her struggles in London to support herself and her two
children by doing laundry-work, and her tragic death from
bronchitis, are interjected amid the passages of the comedy
with the grim force of tragic satire. But it is false art to make
the dying woman confide, as the author makes her, to a son
of ten years old the sad story of her weakness and her passion
in earlier days, just as she might to a very dear and elderly
friend. The thing jars horribly. Moreover the " sentimental-
ism ' in Tommy's character does not prevent him from enter-
ing upon his youthful career, as soon as he knew the value of

* Sentimental Tommy : The Story of his Boyhood. By J. M. Barrie. New York : Charles
Scribner's Son.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 407

words ; with a decided propensity toward telling lies and boast-
ing. The story opens with a very spirited tournament in these
accomplishments, between himself and a little Cockney gamin
named Shovel, in which Scottish mendacity makes a Bannock-
burn for the British urchin. The development of the senti-
mental side of Tommy's character is a slow and painful pro-
cess, carried on, as it is for a decade of years, in the killing
atmosphere of the London slums. Thenceforward it goes on
in the more genial surroundings of the incomparable Thrums.

In the detail and technique of his work Mr. Barrie is all
that the most exacting on these points can require. His sar-
casm at some points, too, is fine. He does not spare his own
people by any means. Their failings are shown with as bold a
hand as their virtues. But he sometimes draws too much upon
our credulity ; as, for instance, when he speaks of ploughmen
coming to see the sports at the village fair and, under the in-
fluence of liquor, flinging pennies about. This smacks of a na-
tional libel.

Some excellent plates embellish this work. They are the
production of Mr. Edward Hatherell's pencil.

The works of Walter Pater are not so widely known in
this country as they should be. He was gifted with a rare
sense of the beautiful in nature and art, and his fine taste is
reflected in a literary style which many consider incapable of
improvement, in English diction. He may be regarded as the
literary hierophant of that aesthetic school in England which
found its highest inspiration in Hellenism and the pantheism
of nature, yet oscillated between the Greek expression of beauty
and the exquisite poetry and color of mediaeval architecture,
art, and song. This dubious condition leaves its traces deeply
in the last of his works, a fragment of a novel entitled Gaston
de Latour* The early chapters of the work appeared in two
English magazines, but the author appears to have been dis-
satisfied with the composition itself, as he left it derelict and
unfinished. We think it would have been well if his own
wishes had been respected, for some of the chapters in this
reproduction can certainly add nothing to his literary reputa-
tion. Mr. Pater wrote a book on literary style, which is justly
regarded as a safe guide. In Gaston de Latour he often makes
painful departure from his own canons and gives us sentences
which are labyrinthine both in thought and prosody, and

* Gaston de Latour. By Walter Pater, late Fellow of Brasenose College. Prepared for
the press by Charles L. Shadwell, Fellow of Oriel College. New York : The Macmillan Co.

4o8 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Dec.,

strongly suggestive of a mind beyond its depth, or rinding
some difficulty in fitting itself to language.

We may conjecture that the motive of the story was an
apology for the eccentricities of Giordano Bruno, and the influ-
ence of his contradictory pseudo-philosophy upon the mind and
action of the title character. Of story there is but little in the
work. Each chapter is a long essay, not an epic composition.
But some of these essays are amazingly beautiful in their sub-
tility of thought and iridescent portrayal of substantial per-
sonages and things. The picture of Notre Dame de Chartres,
for instance, to which one chapter is devoted, is full of touches
which are like a superb note on a violin, conjuring up whole
worlds of beauty and delight. There are sketches also of the
poet-priest, Ronsard, and the odd, gay philosopher, Montaigne,
which are as mentally satisfying as a painting by Van Eyck.
The voluptuous, fanatical royalty of the France of the Four
Henrys period is lit up by the weird gleams of a fancy which
often acts like the colored lights of a theatre, converting the
commonplace and shocking into the glittering and intoxicating.
Fine essays all, but not very serviceable to the seeker after
truth in the French wars of the Reformation.

That wretched soap-bubble, the American Protective Asso-
ciation, has been so lost sight of in the on-rush of serious poli-
tics that it almost seems a pity to recall attention to its ignoble
career. Still it may by some chance be spoken of in the future,
and in order that its real character shall be known and its
genesis traced for the benefit of inquirers, a good history of
the craze has been compiled by Mr. J. Alexander Edwards,
and published in pamphlet form by P. J. Kenedy, of Barclay
Street, New York. The chronicler has helped out his argu-
ments very effectively by an interesting account of the hanging
of the Salem " witches ' by the Massachusetts Puritans and the
opening of Catholic Maryland to the persecuted of all creeds.
He turns the tables, indeed, on the defamers of American
Catholicism in the most effective way.

There is no royal road to the acquisition of a knowledge of
trigonometry, but there are some short cuts. In Crockett's
Elements of Plane and Spherical Trigonometry* the easiest way
to find it is indicated. All superfluous cabalistry is cut away,
and the task of the student is made as easy as a dry labor

* Elements of Plane and Spherical Trigonometry. By C. W. Crockett. New York:
American Book Company.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 409

can be. Logarithmic and trigonometric tables, to five decimal
places, are given as an appendix.

Messrs. Benziger's Catholic Home Annual grows in attrac-
tiveness each successive year. The issue for 1897 is handsomer,
larger, and better equipped in every way than any of its pre-
decessors. Some of the numerous plates it gives are master-
pieces of engraving and press-work. As regards the literary
contents, they show a desire on the part of the publishers to
get the best they can get, and to encourage Catholic literature
in America by so doing. Tempting prizes were offered for good
stories, and we are glad to see that the first of these has been
carried off by a lady whose name is familiar to most of our
readers, Miss Marion Ames Taggart. The Annual is a wel-
come guest in every home, and more deservedly so now than
ever before.

A companion volume to the Essays Educational of the late
Brother Azarias, the Essays Philosophical* has followed quickly
upon the publication of the first. We rejoice that these monu-
ments of the learning and industry of the dead teacher have
been produced so soon after his demise, ere his distinguished
services to the cause of the school have faded from the evapor-
ative memory of this age of rush and rapid metamorphosis.
Our readers have been made familiar with the matter of many
of these Essays already. They need not to be informed of the
depth of scholarship they reveal, the soundness of the princi-
ples they expound, or the fine literary vehicle in which they
are conveyed ; for in all these things the departed scholar was
a fitting successor of the great mediaeval guides, whose lives
and methods he so graphically limned in some of his former
essays. The fact that the volume now under notice has a pre-
face written by the Right Rev. Bishop Keane will give it an
additional interest in the eyes of many readers.

While we may not withhold the tribute of our admiration
to the industry which distinguishes Mr. F. Marion Crawford,
we must confess that the system of automatic delivery which
appears to be his guiding motive, now that he is sure of a
literary market, is not so satisfactory in quality as in regularity
of action. His latest novel, Taquisara,\ regarded from an artis-
tic point of view, is dreadfully inelegant, inasmuch as it begins
with one tragedy and ends with another, while it divides its

* Essays Philosophical. By Brother Azarias. With Preface by the Right Rev. John J.
Keane, D.D. f Taquisara. By F. Marion Crawford. New York : The Macmillan Co.

410 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Dec.,

motif in the middle, and the chief characters in the first
volume disappear with its termination as though the earth had
swallowed them. Want of design is painfully apparent through-
out the whole work. Ignorance of Catholic theology is also
displayed in a very objectionable way. Mr. Crawford has an
unhappy penchant for inventing weak religious for the purposes
of his fiction, and making these imaginary delinquents say and
do what no real recusants would dream of doing or saying. In
Taquisara a religious is made to play a most singular part to-
ward the end of the work. To cut a sort of literary Gordian
knot it is necessary to make a man show that he had been
playing priest for many years, administering what were made
to appear sacraments, and imposing upon everybody in the
most awful transactions of the spiritual and human law. Were
it not for its profanity the device would be grotesque.

As for the manner of the tale, it is right to say that in
tone and pitch it is tuned up to Mr. Crawford's usual level.
The disgusting tale of Italian vice and villany is told with a
cold, silken smoothness and careful elaboration of outer detail
that gives it an appearance of entire respectability. Every-
thing is minutely explained, and by this process the most im-
probable happenings are made to appear the most natural
events in the world. It requires the skill of an adept to do
all this ; and this skill Mr. Crawford undoubtedly possesses.
But it would require more skill than he commands to explain
a supernatural incident which he has introduced into the story,
for no apparent purpose but to heighten the effect. He makes
no attempt to explain it, but simply puts it there for the reader
to take it or leave it. Mr. Crawford seems to labor under the
delusion that he is writing for an audience of spiritualists, not
people of brains and taste.

That the right hand of Bret Harte has not lost its cunning
is easily seen from a new cluster of short skits from his auda-
cious pen. They are grouped under the title Barker's Luck,
and other Tales* One of these is an excruciatingly mirthful
story of flesh-pots and psalmody entitled " A Convert to the
Mission." Notwithstanding some breezy sallies of irreverence,
the strength of the coloring and the humor of the satire make
it a most amusing morsel. In this particular line of literature
the author of " Poker Flat ' is still easily chief.

* Barkers Luck, and other Tales. By Bret Harte. Boston and New York : Houghton,
Mifflin & Co.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 411

Writing for the comprehension of children is the art of an
accomplished adult and not every good adult writer possesses
the secret. We have long wanted an able hand to give us a
work telling the story of redemption in a brief way perfectly
intelligible to the infantile intelligence. The want is now im-
plemented. We have an excellent story of the life of our
Divine Lord, illustrated by simple outline pictures, within a
compass of less than fifty pages.* The anonymous author has
performed his task in the happiest possible way. Truths that
have filled tomes of philosophical controversy, and exercised
the brains of the subtlest schoolmen, are here stated succinctly
and intelligibly to the incipient comprehension in a few score
simple sentences. The excellent little work bears the imprima-
tur of the Archbishop of Philadelphia.

To Mr. Jeremiah Curtin, who has already helped us largely
to a knowledge of alien literature, we are indebted for an
English version of the works of the great Polish novelist, Hen-
ryk Sienkiewicz. The latest of these works is a valuable ad-
dition to our stock of books relating to the early days of Chris-
tianity. It is a thrilling piece of art, and moreover it is such
a one as not all minds are strong enough to go through with.
The title of the book is Quo Vadisj\ and its scene and period
Rome in the days of Nero.

There is but little of a thread of story in the work, but
the depiction of the daily and nightly life of pagan Rome un-
der the monster-minded tyrant is enthralling in its power.
Vast pictures fill the canvas, majestic in their conception, gor-
geous in their coloring, and full of real life and movement as
the vitagraph. Every line of the work exhibits a mind stored
with knowledge- of the people, their habits, their tendencies,
their houses, furniture, objects of art and trade, implements of
war, their books, their divinities, their institutions everything
indeed that characterized them as the leaders of ancient civil-
ization. The peculiarities of Nero at once dilettant and an
insatiable hyena of cruelty are marvellously well depicted.
So, too, in the delineation of the character of Petronius, the
famous arbiter elegantiarum, the author has by his art given us a
speaking picture of the class of wealthy fops and literati of that
degenerate period. His presentations of the imperial feasts and

* A Few Events in the Life of our Divine Lord. By a Member of the League of the
Sacred Heart. Philadelphia : Happy Home Publishing Co.

t Quo Vadis : 'A Narrative of the Time of Nero. By Henryk Sienkiewicz. Translated
by Jeremiah Curtin. Boston : Little, Brown & Co.

412 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Dec.,

the bacchanal orgies which followed them are panoramic, but
we must add that the minutice include matter which had been
far better omitted. It is not put there, it is at once apparent,
for any such purpose as similar matter in Zola's works ; it
is put there conscientiously ; but we say unhesitatingly that
it is unnecessary, and, moreover, that it mars the effect of pic-
tures which sink deep into the soul. So, too, with the scenes
in the amphitheatre. The details of the carnage and the cruelty
are too minute and too long drawn out. It is not in ordinary
human nature to bear with much of this, even when presented
by the most skilful hand.

A prominent part in the book is played by the Apostles
Peter and Paul. The addresses and prayers which the author
puts into the mouths of these sublime figures reveal a true con-
ception of their respective missions and the spirit of their joint
teachings. Regarding this portion of the work, and the re-
sults of the contact of Christianity with the decaying fabric of
Roman paganism, we know of no work which enables a more
vivid idea to be formed of that curious moral conflict than this
work.

Mr. Curtin, evidently, has done his part of the work well.
We note that he adopts the form domina, despite the vehement
protests of conservative Latinists like Professor Mahaffy, who
will persist in giving the title dominus to a queen. But this is
a point which not even Petronius could settle.

What may be regarded as an abridgment of a former work,
Outlines of Universal History* has been prepared for the use of
students by Professor Fisher, of Yale. It is a work more
generally serviceable than its predecessor, but its usefulness
must necessarily be more as a refresher of the memory than an
informant of the understanding. Despite the purely synoptical
character of much of its contents, those portions of it which
relate to mediaeval progress and the salient events in the later
transition period are treated with liberal amplitude. The tone
of the work is conspicuously neutral, and the learned writer
evinces a strong desire to be impartial in dealing with con-
troverted questions. Fine plates embellish the various subjects
treated.

Tons have been published regarding the sanguinary scenes
of the French Revolution, but we have had nothing which so

* A Brief History of the Nations, and of their Progress in Civilization* By George Park
Fisher, D.D., LL.D., Yale University. New York, Cincinnati, Chicago : The American
Book Company.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 413

well enables us to realize the actors and the action so clearly as
the Memoirs of Monsignor de Salomon* The author was inter-
nuncio in Paris during the whole of the Reign of Terror, and
was one of those who were singled out as victims of mob fury,
but he escaped by a clever device of his own from the general
butchery. He was an eye-witness to the horrifying slaughter of
priests at the Abbaye, and gives a graphic picture of the fright-
ful scene. His narrative enables us to distinguish between the
knot of wretches who disgraced the name of Paris by their
ferocious inhumanity and the bulk of the people who brought
about the Revolution. His book is, therefore, an eminently
serviceable one. He did not himself play the most heroic part
in the ordeal, nor does he seek to conceal aught that he did
to effect his escape, but he enables us clearly to realize the
glorious heroism of the bishops and priests who testified for
the Cross in that awful time. The Memoirs were originally
published in Italian, and the English translation is the work of
the Abbe Bridier, of Paris. A fine portrait of Monsignor de
Salomon is given as a frontispiece. It will be perceived by
the readers of these Memoirs that although the writer adopted
a subterfuge to save his life, he was quite the reverse of a
coward. On the contrary, he proved himself a most daring and
resourceful counsellor for the banned church in the time of
emergency, and a centre around which the fugitive clergy could
' rally, and by means of which the decrees of the Holy See and
the protests of the Catholic people against the tyrannical acts
of the Directory were unflinchingly promulgated. The details
which he gives shed a new light upon many transactions arising
out of the Revolution which have hitherto escaped attention.
A wonderfully fresh and vivid style of narrative gives the
Memoirs a fascination more absorbing than the greatest efforts
of romance.

The name of Rider Haggard carries with it the idea of the
most extravagant flights of the imagination. Few literary men
of the day have outrivalled him in the painting of weird, bizarre
scenes, and to get his heroes out of any difficulty, or to dispose
of them when they were not wanted on the scene of action,
few novelists could display such ingenious and startling moves
of scenery.

In his later works this extravagant imagination has been re-

* Monsignor de Salomon : Unpublished Memoirs of the Internuncio at Pans during the
Revolution, 1790-1801. With Preface, Introduction, Notes, and Documents by the Abb6
Bridier, of the Clergy of Paris. Boston : Little, Brown & Co.
VOL. LXIV. 27

4H TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS.

strained very considerably, until in his latest story, The Wizard*
we have a very readable and exceedingly wholesome tale of
savage African life conquered by the innate power of Chris-
tian truth, typified in the life and character of a devoted mis-
sionary. We wonder why the heroism of the missionary's life
has not oftener been woven into the story, because there is so
much in it that calls out our deepest admiration. There is
much in this story that seems overdone, because there is so
much play given to supernatural agencies; but often have we
read the same things told as actual facts in the lives of real
missionaries, and yet the intervention of providential agencies
seems quite in place there. The dramatic scenes are illustrated
with extraordinary tact by Mr. Charles Kerr. Too much Hag-
gard, like too much Dore, seems to overwhelm and satiate the
mind, but The Wizard for its deep religious undertone, its tri-
umph of Christianity over barbarism, its many characters glow-
ing with beauty of religious heroism, will be read and appre-
ciated.

DR. MCQUIRK'S SERMONS.!

We have before us the first volume of sermons by Dr.
McQuirk, published, he tells us, " somewhat against his own
judgment," at the urgent request of friends in whose opinion
he had confidence. There are twenty-five discourses in the col-
lection, dealing with a variety of topics, but upon the whole so
welded as to suggest a well-considered system. For instance,
as ordinated parts of a scheme, the first seven deal with sin,
its consequences and its relations to man's destiny ; for the
fourth, upon heaven and thoughts included in this part of the
series, has a direct bearing upon the tenor of the group. It
serves as a central motive round which the other subjects
revolve.

We are glad that he yielded to the advice of those who
wished to see the sermons in an accessible form. We under-
stand that they were not written before delivery, but reduced
to writing afterwards. We do not think that this is altogether
to be regretted. Something of the repetition, something of the
insistence which is so valuable in delivery, would be out of
place in a careful composition. The reader will derive a use-

* The Wizard. By H. Rider Haggard. New York : Longmans, Green & Co.
^Sermons and Discourses. By Rev. John McQuirk, D. D., LL.D., Rector of St. Paul's
Church, New York. New York : Fr. Pustet & Co.

1896.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 415

ful hint from this feature in the sermons before us. There is
one sermon, however, that entitled " Delay of Repentance,"
which is free from this defect as, strictly speaking, we must
call it and seems to show Dr. McQuirk at his best. There is
a strong, clear current of analysis of motive, and reasoning,
advice, and denunciation, which puts the sermon in a high rank
among such compositions. The first of the two on the Passion
of our Lord is excellent; and though it suggests a comparison
in particular with one masterpiece we have just now in mind,
and indeed served to recall one or two other great efforts of
oratory, we must say in justice that it comes well out of the
ordeal. The sermon on the Existence of Hell at the end of
the volume is, to some extent, disappointing on account of
being separated from that on the Punishment of Hell (the fifth);
and to some extent from the point of view which he mainly
enforces. We think if it followed the fifth sermon, so that a
vivid sense of the evil, the inconceivable wickedness, of sin,
should necessarily force itself on the mind because of the
punishment attached to it, he would have been more successful
in producing the impression aimed at. The course taken by
Bourdaloue in making his great sermon " On the Pains of Hell,"
as the inducement, the introductory chapter to that " On the
Eternity of Hell," is the one .which the wisdom of high art
seizes. Here art is not the straining after purely rhetorical
effects, but the presentation of the truth in its exact signifi-
cance. It is quite true that a single mortal sin deserves hell.
But why? because God says so and awards the punishment.
Analogies from the punishments inflicted by society are only
illustrative in a dim and distorted way of the operations of
eternal justice. Bourdaloue's is the right method, which, flood-
ing us with an overwhelming sense of the inexpiable wicked-
ness of sin, leaves our own hearts to draw the inference that
eternal punishment is its true measure.

We shall welcome the second volume, and we are sure that
all who read the first will await its appearance with agreeable
anticipation.

ONE of the most singular tales of tortuous state-
craft ever revealed is that which is now being
given to the world by the former dictator of Ger-
many, old Prince Bismarck. In the pages of a newspaper con-
trolled by him and therefore, we presume, outside the class
which he himself designated " the reptile press ' -he is unfold-
ing chapters of past history which reflect no more credit on
himself than on the German Emperor whose servant he was.
The duplicity which -he naively confesses is such as Machiavelli
himself might shrink from. While the German government
was keeping up the show of the Triple Alliance with Austria
and Italy, the Emperor, as Bismarck now shows, had entered
into a secret treaty with the Czar which completely neutral-
ized the efficacy of that Alliance in case of the outbreak of
war. Russia was in fact given liberty by this treaty to attack
Austria or Italy if it suited her policy to do so, while Ger-
many, the Triple Alliance notwithstanding, was to maintain an
attitude of benevolent neutrality. Bismarck, it is true, main-
tains that the effectuation of this treaty was well known to the
cabinet of Vienna, but the facts are decidedly against this lame
contention. " Perfidious Albion ' was the old epithet of oppro-
brium which Frenchmen used in regard to England, but in the
face of these remarkable revelations England can no longer en-
joy a monopoly in this invidious international pre-eminence.

The bitterest thing in connection with this discreditable
affair is the position of unhappy Italy. For the maintenance
of this pretended Alliance her people have been remorselessly
drained of their slender resources, and a huge standing army and
navy, far beyond the country's legitimate needs, have had to
be maintained all to maintain a mere bubble, an empty ex-
pression. Never before, in all human history, has a people
been so fooled as the deluded Italians.

While it is in the power of monarchs and statesmen to play
fast and loose with international interests and international
honor in this way, it is difficult to perceive the justification
for any belief in the approach of an era of universal peace

1896.] EDITORIAL NOTES. 417

founded on the acceptance of the principle of arbitration.
We must remember that war is often resorted to by monarchs
who are in desperate straits with domestic questions, in the
hope that patriotism will unite the clashing interests in the
defence of the nation. Still, every victory gained for the
principle of arbitration brings the world one step nearer to
the desiderated goal. Hence we may hail the stage at which
the Venezuelan controversy has now arrived as a gratifying
evidence of the progress of the principle. Lord Salisbury has
retreated from the autocratic position which he at first took
up, and at a public banquet recently declared his adherence to
the view put forward by the United States on the subject of
the boundary. If the Venezuelans agree to the condition that
a prescriptive limit of fifty years be applied to settlers on the
disputed territory, the basis for an amicable settlement of the
trouble will have been laid.

If Prince Bismarck persist in his present temper, it might hap-
pen that the world could read the secret history of the establish-
ment of the May Laws. Why the Catholic subjects of the empire
should have been persecuted, immediately after the triumph of
Germany had been secured very largely by the liberal outpouring
of Catholic blood in three great wars, is one of those nice pro-
blems of statecraft whose solution would prove generally edifying.

The periodicity of famine in Ireland is a fact assured by
the economic system of the country and the uncertainty of the
elements in their relation to its agriculture. Through a long
visitation of rainy weather in the past autumn a vast tract of
cultivated land has been submerged, the stacked harvest de-
stroyed, and the potato crop ruined. Over a large area of the
country is projected the shadow of approaching famine. Here
ought to be an opportunity for the English government to
quit the national conscience of a portion of its burden regard-
ing Ireland. The Financial Relations Commission Report
shows that that country has for years been unfairly taxed to
the amount of fourteen million dollars every year. The resti-
tution of one year's mulct would set on foot public works
which would save the country from the danger which threatens
it. Here is a question upon which Irish representatives of
every shade ought to unite, and immediately on the opening
of Parliament, if the danger can be kept at bay until that
time, insist on the government doing its duty.

4i8

AUTHENTIC SKETCHES OF

[Dec.,

AUTHENTIC SKETCHES OF LIVING CATHOLIC

AUTHORS.

MARION J. BRUNOWE is the nom de plume of Mary Jose-
phine Browne, born in New York City some time in the early
seventies. Her father is a well-known physician, Dr. Valentine
Browne, now resident at Yonkers, N. Y. At an early age she
entered the far-famed convent of Mount St.-Vincent-on-the-
Hudson, remaining there seven years.

Her first manuscript was sent to the editor of the Ave
Maria, whose delicate handwriting has gladdened many a bud-
ding author. It was accepted. This story was followed in the
pages of the same magazine

by five others, |~ ~T~ ~~| which after-

wards, with still ^HMm another added,

made her first book, Seven of

Us. Other books of Mari-

Brunowe are, The Sealed

Family, The
tie Hall, Pearls
Stars of Hope,
Our School, etc.
nowe's book,
Packet, the New
says : " Miss
nowe has some-
Ingelow's hap-
bringing to-

Packet, A Lucky

Mystery at Myr-

from Faber,

The Ghost at

Of Miss Bru-
The Sealed

York Critic
Marion J. Bru-
thing of Jean
py faculty of

gether in one MARION ; BRUNOWE. P lot common-

place and ro- mantic inci-

dents with just so much force as is needed to strike fire from
them. The gift is rare enough, in any degree, to be noticeable."

Maurice Francis Egan thus speaks of Seven of Us : " Seven
of Us is the breeziest, pleasantest, most interesting little
book we have seen in all the ' premium libraries ' sent to us.
Miss Brunowe does not preach. She lets her moral permeate
iier stories, and consequently little people are unconsciously
benefited by her charming parables."

P. G. SMYTH was born in Ballina> County Mayo, Ireland, of
an old local family that always adhered to the sentimentally
sublime but materially unprofitable national side in Irish poli-
tics. His grand-uncle fell in the insurgent ranks during the

1896.]

LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS.

419

French invasion of 1798. His uncle, Father Pat Smyth, was
the first Catholic priest at the Australian gold-fields.

Mr. Smyth developed the writing cacoethes at an early age.
His first novel, The Wild Rose of Lough Gill, a tale of the
Cromwellian war, written in 1879, obtained high popular favor.
It first appeared as a serial in one of T. D. Sullivan's publica-
tions, from which it was reproduced in numerous Irish-American
newspapers. It showed a new and vigorous style of handling
the romantic materials of Irish history, and obtained the enco-
miums of both the Irish and English press. It remains a very
popular book in Ireland, and forms a favorite class-prize or
token of merit in Irish schools and colleges. It was followed

by King and
with the Dan-
Under the White
the romance of
ade in the ser-
The Green and
with materials
insurrection of
ers. After six
ship of a Con-
paper, the
(founded by the
Finerty and
Mr. Smyth
ica and worked
newspapers in
1892 he return-
and married

P. G. SMYTH,
Chicago, 111.

Viking, dealing
ish invasion ;
Cockade, culling
the Irish Brig-
vice of France ;
f he Tricolor,
drawn from the
1798, and oth-
years' editor-
naught news-
Western People
late Rev. A.
himself in 1883),
came to Amer-
various
In
ed to Ireland

on
Chicago.

Miss Katherine

Doris, sister of W. J. Doris, present editor and owner of the
Mayo News ; but after a couple of years of married life death
deprived him of his partner. Mr. Smyth is now associate
editor of the Observer, a journal of breezy and piquant
comment on things in general in Chicago.

JOHN TALBOT SMITH was born in Saratoga, N. Y., in 1855,
and made his college and seminary course, after the usual
training in both church and public schools, with the Basilians
who have charge of St. Michael's College, in Toronto. He
was ordained priest in 1881, and began work on the Ogdens-
burgh mission in Northern New York, where he remained eight
years. His career as a writer dates from the appearance of
his first novel, A Woman of Culture, which was published serially

420

LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS.

in THE CATHOLIC WORLD in 1880. It described Canadian
life with the city of Toronto as the scene of the story, and
had some vogue in its day. It was followed by Solitary Island^
also first published in THE CATHOLIC WORLD, a story of life
on the St. Lawrence in the primitive region of the Thousand
Islands. The book was somewhat ponderous, and the theme
tragic, and it was not as well received as its predecessor. These
books were followed by a History of the Ogdensburgh diocese \
The Prairie Boy, a story for children ; His Honor the Mayor, a
collection of short stories describing life in the Adirondack re-

gion ; and Sa-
with the same
two last are
best work of
abounding in
northern char-
tions of lake
scenery, humor-
pathetic inci-
on the great
plain. Both
ed by the critics,
ies nearly all ap-
THE CATHOLIC
although each
itself, they are
ed by the gener-
is the struggle

REV. JOHN TALBOT SMITH.

ranac, a novel
theme. The
considered the
the author,
sketches of
acter, descrip-
and mountain
ous scenes, and
dents of life
Lake Cham-
have been prais-
The short stor-
peared first in
WORLD, and,,
is complete in
closely connect-
al theme, which
of the Irish to

get a footing on American soil, the struggle of the French
Canadians to do likewise, and. the jealousy which the two-
Catholic races felt towards each other for a time. For nearly
three years Father Smith was the editor of the Catholic Re-
view of New York, and he contributes regularly to the jour-
nals and the reviews, confining his work to fiction and social
and religious questions. In journalism Katherine E. Conway de-
scribes him as not always prudent, but always interesting, and
even brilliant. In fiction Mrs. Elizabeth Martin puts his best
stones among the best of the time. His latest work, entitled
Our Seminaries, is at the present time exciting attention in
ecclesiastical circles for the candor of its utterances, and the
high standard advocated in the education of the clergy. He pur-
poses to follow up this work with others on the same important
subject. He is engaged at present on a life of Brother Azarias,.
the distinguished litterateur, which is to appear early in 1897.

1896.] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 421

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY.

ITALY AND THE DUAL ALLIANCE.

( Translations made for The Literary Digest?)

IT has again been reported that Italy is about to withdraw from the Triple
Alliance. The European papers, nevertheless, show that the accounts cabled by
the press agencies are strongly exaggerated. The Italian government is desirous
of a better understanding with France and Russia, but without relaxing its hold
upon its present international relations. The Handelsblad, Amsterdam, believes
that the greater friendliness shown to France and Russia is due to the influence
of Visconti-Venosta, the new Italian Minister for Foreign Affairs. English influ-
ence is also said to be at work, for England wishes to make Italy her own ally.
The Italian press, on the whole, accuses the government of unnecessary duplicity
in the matter.

The Nazione, Rome, accuses the Rudini ministry of dishonesty in its inter-
national policy. The paper acknowledges that Italy's membership of the Triple
Alliance has not, lately, been advantageous to her. But if the ministry knew this,
why did they renew the contract ? The Caffaro, Naples, says :

" Old alliances need not necessarily interfere with the formation of new
treaties. Italy wishes to be on good terms with all her neighbors. Hence she is
changing her course. The treaty of alliance with Austria and Germany will not
be disturbed ; but there is no reason why Italy should not gradually bring about a
better understanding with France and Russia."

The Roma, Rome, censures severely this alleged attempt to blow hot and
cold at the same time. The paper says :

" Does not the very fact that France and Russia are becoming undoubted
friends warn us against a policy which must end in the loss of the confidence of
both Austria and Germany ? Nor should we become estranged from England,
for France and Russia continue to oppose us in Africa as well as in the Mediter-
ranean Sea. The diplomacy thus inaugurated by the Rudini ministry must end
in humiliation and isolation. Neither France nor Russia can ever become true
friends to us ; we are about to throw aside lightly our most valuable friends to
chase after things which can never be realized."

The German papers do not believe that either the King or the ministry of
Italy seriously contemplates a change of policy. The Pester Lloyd has a suspi-
cion that the Italians are merely coquetting with France and Russia to have a
free hand in a new campaign against Abyssinia. Italy will not be satisfied until
she has wiped out the humiliating defeat inflicted upon her by Menelik.

HOW THE SUPREME COURT DECIDES CASES.

(From the Literary Digest.)

JUSTICE HARLAN, of the Supreme Court of the United States, at a banquet
in Cincinnati, Ohio, October 3, gave the following interesting account of the
method pursued by that body in deciding cases before it :

422 WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. [Dec.,

" In my intercourse with the members of the bar I have found, to my great
surprise, that the impression prevails with some that cases, after being submitted,
are divided among the judges, and that the court bases its judgment in each one
wholly upon the report made by some one judge to whom that case has been
assigned for examination and report. I have met with lawyers who actually be-
lieved that the opinion was written before the case was decided in conference, and
that the only member of the court who fully examined the record and briefs was
the one who prepared the opinion.

" It is my duty to say that the business in our court is not conducted in any
such mode. Each justice is furnished with a printed copy of the record and with
a copy of each brief filed, and each one examines the records and briefs at his
chambers before the case is taken up for consideration. The cases are thoroughly
discussed in conference the discussion in some being necessarily more extended
than in others. The discussion being concluded and it is never concluded until
each member of the court has said all that he desires to say the roll is called, and
each justice present and participating in the decision votes to affirm, reverse, or
modify, as his examination and reflection suggest. The Chief-Justice, after the
conference, and without consulting his brethren, distributes the cases so decided
for opinions. No justice knows, at the time he votes in a particular case, that he
will be asked to become the organ of the court in that case ; nor does any member
of the court ask that a particular case be assigned to him.

" The next step is the preparation of the opinion by the justice to whom it
has been assigned. The opinion, when prepared, is privately printed, and a copy
placed in the hands of each member of the court for examination and criticism.
It is examined by each justice, and returned to the author, with such criticisms
and objections as are deemed necessary. If these objections are of a serious kind,
affecting the general trend of the opinion, the writer calls the attention of the jus-
tices to them, that they may be passed upon. The author adopts such sugges-
tions of mere form as meet his views. If objections are made to which the writer
does not agree, they are considered in conference, and are sustained or overruled
as the majority may determine. The opinion is reprinted so as to express the final
conclusions of the court, and is then filed.

" Thus, you will observe, not only is the utmost care taken to make the opin-
ion express the views of the court, but that the final judgment rests, in every case
decided, upon the examination by each member of the court of the record and
briefs. Let me say that, during my entire service in the Supreme Court, I have
not known a single instance in which the court has determined a case merely up-
on the report of one or more justices as to what was contained in the record and
as to what questions were properly presented by it. When you find an opinion of
the court on file and published, the profession have the right to take it as express-
ing the deliberate views of the court, based upon a careful examination of the
records and briefs by each justice participating in the judgment."

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 423

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

SOME of our new correspondents are requested to bear in mind that the Colum-
bian Reading Union is intended to be a useful auxiliary to the Catholic
reading public. It endeavors to counteract wherever prevalent the indifference
shown toward Catholic literature, and to suggest ways and means of acquiring a
better knowledge of standard authors. The desired result can be advanced by
practical methods of co-operation among those in charge of libraries, managers
of Reading Circles, and others. All societies of this kind will derive mutual
benefit by the interchange of opinion and suggestion, which is encouraged and
made profitable through the influence of a central body. In the domain of
juvenile literature lists of books should be prepared to meet the constant demands
of educational institutions, and of parents who rightly exercise a vigilant super-
vision over the reading matter supplied to their children. The intrinsic value of
books for children, no less than the price, is a matter for serious consideration by
thoughtful parents and teachers. To secure the best results from an educational
point of view, untrained minds cannot be allowed to choose at random books from
public libraries. In many localities the stories most widely diffused and easiest to
get present to young folks types of character unworthy of imitation. Daring
acts of disobedience in school and out of school are frequently depicted in glowing
colors. Books of this kind exert a most pernicious influence by bringing the
youthful mind in contact with the worst side of human nature.

For many reasons, which need not here be given, healthful, interesting stories,
with a good moral tone, are not sufficiently known and distributed in the home
circle and in school libraries. Many have neither the time nor opportunity for a
personal inspection of books intended for the young. Hence the need of making
an effort to secure reliable guidance from those competent to decide. Such a list
has been prepared with that object in view, which will b'e mailed to any address
by sending ten cents in postage-stamps to the Columbian Reading Union, 415
West Fifty-ninth Street, New York City.

* * *

The John Boyle O'Reilly Reading Circle of Boston has now a more spacious
meeting-room at the new building of the Catholic Union, Worcester Square. It
has a most accomplished president, Miss Katherine E. Conway, and over one
hundred members in attendance. The plan of work for the year consists of
short studies in Church History. This does not mean a detailed review of the
history of religion from the days of St. Peter to those of Pope Leo XIII. It is
not the study of Church History, but studies in Church History ; the taking up of
points which are matters of frequent reference in general history and literature, or
centres of acute controversy, but on which the minds, especially of young people,
are not always clear.

These topics occupy the greater part of each of the two monthly study-meet-
ings. To relax the strain, however, the last half-hour of both meetings is devoted
to brief mention of current light literature, and comment thereupon. The
question-box is revived, and promises to fill, as heretofore, a most useful part in
sustaining interest in the topics included in the programme.

424 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNIOA T . [Dec.,.

Mrs. James Sadlier holds a unique place among the Catholic writers of
America, and her life-work has been a service which amply deserves recognition..
It carries one back to the time when large numbers of Irish boys and girls flocked
to our shores, seeking service in families where too often their faith was in
jeopardy. Priests were few, and for multitudes of these emigrants the only means
of Catholic instruction was a good book. But there was practically no Catholic
literature, and Mrs. Sadlier set herself to supply the need. There are thousands of
families in the United States that owe the preservation of their faith to her in-
spiring works, and in this fact lies her claim to the gratitude of the church as
well as of individuals. She made them proud of their faith at a time when it was
despised. She wrote of its past glories and prophesied its future victories ; she
struck the central chords of feeling, and on them played such rare harmonies as
strengthened the faith of the friendless emigrants and steeled their hearts against
the temptations that assailed and compassed them on all sides. Her novels have
been no insignificant factor in the inculcating of religion and patriotism into the
hearts of the exiled Celt ; all her works aim at making Irish Catholics, no matter
to what other country they owe allegiance and fealty, proud of their native land
and their Mother Church, and at keeping alive and active their affections for the
old folks at home and the good Catholic customs and practices of their fore-
fathers. A new edition of her works has lately been published.

* # #

The Wadhams Reading Circle was organized November 11, 1894, with ninety
members. Previously to the organization, the pastor of St. Joseph's Church, of
Malone, N. Y., the Rev. William Rossiter, had invited the members of the congre-
gation to meet for the purpose. The objects proposed, and still adhered to, were
the self-culture of its own members, the diffusion of good literature for the culture
of others, and the establishment and maintenance of a free public library. Mem-
bership gradually increased to about one hundred and thirty. The Circle was in-
corporated, according to the laws of the State, as the Wadhams Reading Circle
of Malone, N. Y. It is, therefore, in a condition to receive bequests, to contract
obligations, etc., as a corporation. Later on it was affiliated to the Regents of
the University of the State of New York, and made use of its right to apply for a
library fund of two hundred dollars, which was received. Its list of books is ap-
proved by the Regents, and it possesses all the rights and privileges of a State
library association. At present it has a library of about five hundred volumes,
located in a large room adjoining the church. There is in Malone a library for
the school district, available for about six hundred out of a population of ten
thousand, but the Wadhams is available for the entire population, Catholic and
non-Catholic. The library is open during two hours on three days of the week.
Outside of the two hundred dollars donated by the Regents, funds for the purchase
of books have been secured by membership fees, socials held in the houses of the
members, and one lecture delivered by the president of the circle, Mrs. B. Ellen
Burke.

The aim is to render practical aid to its members, engaged in all sorts of
occupations, domestic, commercial, teaching, law, and literature. A notice-
able feature is the perfect willingness with which every member has performed
his or her part of the programme. Any practical Catholic, over sixteen years
of age, is eligible to membership ; so also is the Protestant husband or wife of
a practical Catholic who is a member. A high degree of scholarship is not
necessary for membership. The dues consist of an entrance fee of fifty cenls>
and a monthly assessment of ten cents.

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 425

The work for the first year consisted of the study of the early history of the
church. It was divided into three central thoughts. First, the condition of the
world before the birth of Christ, considered with reference to religion, education,
literature, science, art, and commerce. Second, the birth and life of Christ, the
lives of the apostles, and others associated with him, and their influence upon the
world. Third, the first four centuries of Christian teaching, subdivided into the
important study of people and places, and the effects that followed. These cen-
tral thoughts gave rise to papers upon the following subjects, prepared and read
t>y the members : Geographical aspect of different places ; their ruling powers ;
extent of their influence ; their morality ; advancement of education ; the material
and intellectual condition of Alexandria ; the Temple of Jerusalem ; Rome ; the
Jews ; the Blessed Virgin ; St. Joseph ; St. John the Baptist.

General meetings are held every two weeks. These meetings, beginning
with the second year, differ much from those of the preceding time, which pro-
vided for study only. Now two members are appointed for each evening to pro-
vide a literary entertainment. A half-hour of the evening is devoted to business,
then an hour to the literary entertainment, which is always of a nature to impart
instruction. Thus there has been a Father Tom Burke Night, and special meet-
ings devoted to Augusta Theodosia Drane, John Boyle O'Reilly, Katherine E.
Conway, and Margaret E. Jordan. The life and the works of the writer have been
studied. Thus, to one member would be assigned the writing of an article on the
childhood, to another the later life, of the author ; to another a review of the au-
thor's works, or a criticism showing the bearing of the author's work on general
literature, and its effect in other ways. Often the meetings have taken the form
of debates upon topics of interest and general benefit, and music has lent addi-
tional charm to these occasions.

During the second year of its existence the Wadhams Reading Circle met
the suggestion of its members by forming classes in various branches to suit their
different tastes or needs. These classes are held in the evenings. Reading and
literature, arithmetic and algebra, geography, penmanship and letter-writing,
United States history, history of Italian art, vocal music all have been repre-
sented in these classes. Good work has been done, great interest taken. The
president outlines each year's work.

According to the constitution the pastor of St. Joseph's Church is ex-officio
chaplain of the Reading Circle, a trustee of the library, and chairman of the mem-
bership committee. Under his guidance the circle is governed by a president, two
vice-presidents, secretary and treasurer. Since the beginning the officers have
been as follows : President, Mrs. B. Ellen Burke ; first vice-president, Mrs. Eliza
J. Kelly; second vice-president, Mrs. Jennie V. Holland; secretary and treasurer,
Miss Lizzie G. Rennie ; chaplain, Rev. William Rossiter. The officers of the
library are as follows: Chairman, John Kelly ; trustees, Rev. William Rossiter,
Mr. Edward Holland, Mrs. J. J. Murphy, Mrs. B. Ellen Burke ; librarians, Frank
J. Kelly, Josie M. Burke. The constitution provides for a visiting committee whose
duty shall be to furnish reading matter for the prison and alms-house, the sick and
the poor. In every department the design is to continue, strengthen, and enrich
the work of preceding years. The great hope of the circle lies in the enthusiasm

-of its members.

* * *

A unique Reading Circle has been organized at Logan, W. Va., for the pur-
pose of making a thorough study of Catholic doctrines. For a long time pafet the

426 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Dec.,

people of that place have been invited to listen to slanders against the church, and
have determined to find out for themselves whether all that is said is true. At
present the circle has fifteen members, all of whom are Protestants with the ex-
ception of two. They have a library of fifty volumes of Catholic literature. The
Rev. Father Werdinger now and again pays a visit to the Reading Circle. His
visits to Logan, however, are generally to lecture in the meeting-houses of Protes-
tant denominations on some Catholic doctrine. The Reading Circle will be a
potent factor in dispersing the cloud of ignorance and opening the eyes of honest
searchers for truth.

A Selected Bibliography of the Religious Denominations of the United
States, compiled by George Franklin Bowerman, is rendered specially valuable by
an appendix containing a list of important Catholic works. The appendix
is supplied by the Rev. Joseph H. McMahon, Director of the New York
Cathedral Library, at the request of the compiler. Mr. Bowerman's object is
to furnish a guide to the study of " the churches and religious denominations
of the United States."

This he very reasonably considers can be accomplished by presenting a list
of references to the best books on the history, doctrines, and polity of each reli-
gious body under its own proper heading. He includes year-books for the statis-
tical information they furnish, and he gives a place to the more important denomi-
national weeklies and reviews.

The part of the work, however, in which we are most interested is the
appendix. Mr. Bowerman, because, as he tells us, the church " lays claim to and
aims at catholicity, the church of one country is organically connected with the
other members of the world church," concludes that a list confined to the
church in this country would be inadequate. Hence he asked Father McMahon
to compile one that would supplement his own somewhat meagre catalogue of
Catholic literature. This, we think, displays a rare spirit of justice.

In the appendix, which runs to some thirty-one pages octavo, we have an
excellently executed list of Catholic works ; not, indeed, intended to be complete
but very representative. We have the headings of year-books, periodicals, dog-
matic theology and apologetics, liturgy, church history, canon law, philosophy,
and Sacred Scripture fairly well filled by the titles of books the best of their kind.
The description of each book is of course succinct, but we think suggestive in a
very remarkable degree. It is an admirable model for library cataloguing.

With this list before him the student within the fold and the inquirer outside
can obtain ample knowledge of Catholic activity in every field of knowledge and
enterprise during the nineteen centuries of the church's life. No one pretending
to any tincture of letters can henceforth offer an excuse for not understanding
the church in her inner and outer life. The books named contain, at least in
outline, the variety, the adjustments and relations of parts of that miraculous
social organism. Her structure, character, tone of thought, and the law of her
being in the twofold aspect of the divine and human, are largely reflected in these
works. We consider that much of American hostility to the church is due to ig-
norance of her, to not knowing the quality of that pre-eminent wisdom which
has guided her over the whole range of individual and social life, her justice and
prudence in dealing with the great and powerful, her constant sympathy with the
weak, her clearness of vision that penetrated to the root of difficulties seemingly
insurmountable, her courage in the face of dangers, her lofty sense of duty and

1896.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 427

her love of mankind, in all of which she has ever thought and felt as He thinks
and feels who is her life and light.

There is hardly anything to correct in the list of Catholic works except that
the 1826 edition of Milner's End of Controversy is given instead of the one
brought out this very year by Father Rivington, and that the edition of Cobbett's
History of the Reformation lately published under the care of the Rev. Francis
Gasquet, D.D., O.S.B., is omitted. Though the work of a Protestant, the fact
of its being now edited by a Catholic makes it a book eminently fitted to be in-
cluded in the Catholic bibliography of the English-speaking peoples.

Orders for the Selected Bibliography of Religious Denominations in the
United States may be sent to the Cathedra! Library, East Fiftieth Street, New
York City.

Archbishop Kain, of St. Louis, Mo., evidently believes that Christian princi-
ples are applicable to the moral aspects of social problems. These are his words :

" At no time, perhaps, in the history of the world has this complex question
of labor, its rights and obligations, engrossed so much of public attention as in
our day. The great mass of mankind are, in the strict sense of the term, work-
ing-men. With the spread of popular governments governments shaped more
or less directly by the suffrages of the people at large it is but natural that the
interests of the majority should be more generally studied and promoted. But
the true interests of all men, whether of high or low degree, must be sought by
such means only as are consonant with the eternal principles of equity and justice.
As no individual member of society is exempt from the laws of his Divine Crea-
tor, so too no class of individuals may claim such exemption. The grave question
of labor and capital is not a mere economic question. It has its moral side.
Indeed, it is only by the light which religion sheds upon it that it can be thor-
oughly understood and satisfactorily settled.

" Inequality in the possession of worldly goods is a condition of society that
has always existed and that cannot be eliminated. Indeed, there are many evi-
dent reasons why, in the economy of Divine Providence, this inequality should
exist. The hardships it imposes may be more than outweighed by the blessings
it confers. As reasonable beings we must deal with the inevitable facts of
human life, and not suffer ourselves to be deluded by Utopian dreams which will
never be realized. As members of society we must live in mutual dependence on
one another, the poor upon the rich and the rich upon the poor. If capital needs
labor, labor also needs capital. Both have unquestionable rights, as also correla-
tive obligations.

" A fair compensation for labor having been determined, the workman is
bound in honor and conscience to perform the work agreed upon. The task he
contracts to fulfil must be such in quality and quantity as the terms of his con-
tract demand ; otherwise, he does not render to his employer an equivalent for
the compensation received, and he is guilty of an injustice. Of every honest man
it must be truthfully said : ' His word is as good as his bond.'

" If we have witnessed scenes of violence enacted in connection with labor
strikes, we have seen also a commendable spirit of self-control and respect for
the law shown by our working classes under most trying circumstances. All the
acts of lawlessness committed in the excitement inseparable from such abnormal
conditions cannot be justly charged to the men most interested in the outcome of
such movements. In every large city, especially, will necessarily be found an

428 NEW BOOKS. [Dec., 1896.

element delighting in disorder and anarchy, and to this class may be attributed
in great measure the troubles created at the time of strikes. These troubles can
only be averted by the workmen themselves co-operating actively, under cool and
prudent leaders, in maintaining the peace and repressing violent outbreaks.
This is their duty, and its faithful discharge will always add strength to every
just cause in which they may be engaged." M. C. M.

NEW BOOKS.

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY, New York :

Plants and their Children. By Mrs. William Starr Dana.

R. WASHBOURNE, 18 Paternoster Row, London:

Heaven on Earth ; or, Twelve Hours of Adoration before the Blessed Sacra-
ment. By Rev. D. G. Hubert.

THE AMERICAN ECCLESIASTICAL REVIEW COMPANY, New York:
Manual of the Forty Hours' Adoration.

CHARLES F. ST. LAURENT, Montreal :

Language and Nationality, in the Light of Revelation and History. By
Charles F. St. Laurent.

BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York, Cincinnati, Chicago :

The Crown of Mary. A complete Manual of Devotions and Prayers for all
Devout Clients of the Mother of God. Pray for Us : Little Chaplets for
the Saints. Compiled by A. Sewell. Catholic Ceremonies and Explana-
tion of the Ecclesiastical Year. From the French of the Abbe Durand.
With 96 illustrations. The Life and Letters of Father John Morris, S.J.
By Father J. H. Pollen, S.J. Cochew's Explanation of the Holy Sacrifice
of the Mass. With a Preface by Right Rev. Camillus P. Maes, D.D.,
Bishop of Covington. Rome and England. By Rev. Luke Rivington,
M.A. Prayer the great Means of obtaining Salvation. By St. Alphonsus
Liguori.

B. HERDER, St. Louis :

Children of Mary : A Tale of the Caucasus. By Rev. Joseph Spillman, S.J.

LONGMANS, GREEN & Co., New York :

The Animal Story-Book. Edited by Andrew Lang.

FALLON & SON, DUBLIN :

Catharine McAuley and the Sisters of Mercy. By K. M. Barry. With Pre-
face by Rev. T. A. Finlay, S.J.

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, New York:

The Gospel for an Age of Doubt. By Henry Van Dyke, D.D.

HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & Co., New York and Boston :

Friar Jerome's Beautiful Book. By Thomas Bailey Aldrich. With decora-
tions by W. S. Hadaway.

HENRY H. REVELL Co., New York:

The Demon Possession and Allied Themes. By Rev. John L. Nevins, D.D.

THE BURROWS BROTHERS COMPANY, Cleveland :
The Jesuit Relations, and allied Documents.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD,

VOL. LXIV.

JANUARY, 1897.

No. 382.

THE NEW YEAR.

BY CHARLESON SHANE.

S on that holy winter night

Approached the warning hour
They gathered in the forest bower.
All clad in spotless white

And snow-pearls glittering, a virgin fair,
With flowing golden hair,
Bathed in streaming flood of yellow light,
From out the shadow broke
To hide beneath the mystic oak.
Lo ! through the sheltering mistletoe
A sudden moonbeam strayed
That kissed the blushing forehead of the maid ;
Whilst, quivering on yonder snow,
Soft shadows, stealing, come and go.
Sweet chanted from the vestals waiting there
A maiden's prayer
Is fading slow in echoes faint as air.

And now

She grasps th' impatient bough.
" New Year, all hail ! "
Young voices ring.
Those liquid notes long-ling'ring sail
And float and cling
The waving trees among.
I vow, so long 'twixt heaven and earth they hung,

So slow they were to die,
Methought an angel chorus sung

Sweet carol out of yonder moonlit sky.

430 A DEBT TO NEWMAN. [Jan.,

A DEBT TO NEWMAN. .

BY CHARLES A. L. MORSE.

'HACKERAY describes George the Fourth as
leaving to history only the memory of " a bow
and a grin," and that tawdry monarch's sub-
jects may quite as truthfully be described as
leaving to us the memory only of a yawn and a
smirk, for undoubtedly the last half of the eighteenth cen-
tury witnessed in England's social and intellectual life a triumph
of the stupid, the mediocre, and the false as complete as it was
hideous. The inclination to succumb to the ignoble in art and
literature might seem to have come in with " the Georges," for
when in the ebb and flow of political intrigue it at length be-
came possible for the Whigs to place the Hanoverian line in
secure possession of the English throne, they marked the be-
ginning of an era of strikingly bad taste which was destined
to culminate in the stupid art, the base architecture, and the
low ethical tone of England under the fourth George. In truth,
however, the seed from which sprang this ugly growth was
planted by Henry Tudor when he took the fatal step which, a
little later, under Elizabeth and finally under the Puritan Com-
monwealth, was destined to lead to the utter extinction, for the
vast majority of Englishmen, of a great ideal. Far-reaching in
its effects as was the destruction begun by Henry the Eighth
and carried to an inglorious finish by his daughter, neither of
them succeeded in annihilating all memory of that ideal which
was the true heritage of England from the riches of the ages
of faith else would a Shakspere such as we know have been
as impossible in the days of Anne Boleyn's daughter as he
assuredly would have been impossible in the England of the
eighteenth century. It was left for Cromwell and his beauty-
hating followers to exterminate the last faint remnants in Eng-
lish souls of that vivid love for the supreme in art and ethics
which is ever the natural concomitant of the Catholic ideal.

Not at once, however, even after the bleak days of the
Commonwealth, did the undisputed reign of the commonplace
begin in English thought. The Jacobites, picturesque defenders
of a lost cause that they were, for many a long year fought

1897-] A DEBT TO NEWMAN. 431

and intrigued and brought themselves to the block for the sake
of a sentiment ; and so long as a considerable number of men
are capable of that sort of enthusiasm the nation which num-
bers them among its people cannot sink absolutely into a wor
ship of the conventional. But after the earlier days of George
the First, when, for better or for worse, the Stuart cause was
settled for all time, the apotheosis of the smug went on apace.

THE ERA OF "THE DUNCIAD."

In this day of multitudinous "appreciations," when from
Nero upwards no scapegrace of history and no era of badness
need seek in vain for a defender before the bar of public
opinion, the eighteenth century has its defenders not a few.
But whatever of virtue its lovers may discover in the England
of "the Georges," it was beyond doubt a stupid England, and
stupidity is ever the prolific begetter of viciousness. And the
early nineteenth century, as legitimate heir to the ideas and
teachings of the preceding age, was in fact both stupid and
vicious. Surely it was a vicious age which could give to that
unwholesome caricature of a man, George the Fourth, the title
of " first gentleman of Europe," and a stupid age which could
accept Jeremy Bentham's "utilitarianism' as philosophy, or
Hannah More's dreary platitudes as wisdom. Maria Edge-
worth's novels, with their insistent laudation of the "successful '
man, and their irritatingly solemn preachments upon sobriety
and thrift as the very summits of religious aspiration and
achievement, are an unlovely echo of the narrow philosophy
and ethics of the day a day when to "succeed' was to be
noble, and when conventional, smug respectability was thought
a better thing than heroism. While the tone of the popular
novelist, the most respected moralist, and the most influential
philosopher of the time was thus hopelessly dull and ignoble,
the condition of the world of art was even worse. Benjamin
West's huge canvases thickly besmeared with muddy pig-
ments were popularly supposed to speak the last word of
the heroic style, and Sir Thomas Lawrence turning out sick-
ly sentimental pictures executed with a tawdry sort of pretti-
ness was hailed as the great apostle of beauty and grace,
while the workers in stone and marble evolved those atrocious
monuments a very hodge-podge of bad art, paganism, and puer-
ility of which Westminster Abbey is to this day the unhappy
custodian. If any one thing pictures vividly the degeneration
which the English art-instinct suffered from its loss of the faith,

432 A DEBT TO NEWMAN. [Jan.,

it is the contrast between any one of the horrors in the shape
of monuments to the dead erected in Westminster after the
Commonwealth as, for instance, that worse than ludicrous
memorial of some forgotten worthy (with the inscription
" Lacrimio struxit amor ") in the form of a marble screen be-
spotted thickly with imaginary tear-drops falling from an eye
which is carved near its top and one of those beautiful altar-
tombs, instinct with dignity and grace, which have come down
to us unharmed from the early days of Henry Tudor, like that
of Margaret of Richmond, whose marble effigy, clad in the
garb of a nun with gentle face and meekly prayful hands, lies
upon a tomb rich in tracery and exquisite in form.

AN OBVIOUS PARAPHRASE OF THE " DEAD INJUN."

With art and literature teaching commonplaces, and worse,
one need not question the low tone of a people's religion.
Sydney Smith's oft-quoted dictum, that to meet a clergyman
of his day was to meet a bad clergyman, must, of course, be
taken in that limited sense which ever weakens all the state-
ments of a man who deals habitually in startling epigrams.
There can be little doubt, however, that both inside the
Establishment and out the general tone of the religious life
was low. John Wesley in whose early life Newman tells us
there was "the shadow and suggestion of those supernatural
qualities which make up the notion of a Catholic saint ' -re-
volted from a dead Anglicanism only to found a sect which
quickly gave birth to a peculiarly disagreeable type of religion-
ist that type of canting humbug of which Dickens, with his
usual failure to distinguish between satire and burlesque, has
given an exaggerated portrait in the grovelling Chadband.
And while the unpleasant race of Chadband was all too numer-
ous among the Dissenters, the clergy of the State Church
were, if better bred, no whit less given over to the worship of
creature-comfort and utilitarianism. "With nothing of the
clergyman about them but a black tie, living in fine houses,
giving dinners in the best style, condescending and gracious,
waving their hands and mincing their words," they led the
world of fashion in bowing the knee to material things, and
none so loud as they in praise of the conventional and the
smug. But this canting Dissent and this worldly Anglicanism
held between them well-nigh undisputed sway. The Catholic
Church, after undergoing two hundred and fifty years of
merciless persecution, seemed to an Englishman of the early

1 897.] A DEBT TO NEWMAN. 433

nineteenth century as dead, so far as England was concerned,
as the Stuart cause in fact, the fall of the house of Stuart
was, illogically enough, supposed to involve the final destruction
of the church in England. On the other hand, the gross
infidelity, which during the last half of the eighteenth century
was so marked a characteristic of English thought, had been
frightened into outward conformity to the state religion by a
vision of the disciples of the French atheists merrily engaged
across the Channel in the overthrow of both state and church
to the tune of " ga ira." The star of ''reformed' Christianity
was unquestionably in the ascendant, and art was dead and
literature stagnant, ethics merely the cloak of utilitarianism,
and religion a thing of the world, worldly and ignoble. But
in the year 1817 there went up to Oxford then the intel-
lectual and religious centre of England in a stricter sense than
now a clear-eyed, gentle-mannered youth to pursue his studies
and to gain his degree, who was destined in the event to
clarify the murky atmosphere of that little world and to lead a
movement which more than any other influence was to help
free English thought and to stimulate English endeavor.

INTELLECTUAL EVOLUTION OR INTELLECTUAL MIRACLE.

Newman's emancipation from the bonds of that soul-be-
numbing " Evangelicanism ' in which he had been reared was
gradual, as indeed were all the intellectual and spiritual transi-
tions which he underwent. He was pre-eminently of that class
which climbs, slowly, painfully, mayhap, but ever with an up-
ward course into clearer light. In his answer to Kingsley's
miserable libel he gave the world a realistic history of that
early growth in Oxford when, one by one, like cumbrous and
useless garments, the shibboleths of the Evangelical school the
smug school par excellence were discarded. Gradually his mind
assimilated the teaching of a higher school, the school that
taught, tentatively indeed and with more or less confusion, the
doctrines of sacramental grace and an historic church. Cling-
ing to these hints of a different type of Christianity from that
of the "reformed' churches, he pushed his way upward, using
his great gifts of intellect fearlessly yet humbly, until at last
he reached a height from which he caught a vision of wondrous
beauty a vision of that great Catholic ideal so long lost to
England's view. His sensitive soul felt at once the charm and
the greatness of that ideal, the ideal which finds its supreme
expression in the lives of the saints, lives which teach in no

434 A DEBT TO NEWMAN. [Jan.,

doubtful, hesitating way that there is something higher than
smug respectability, that holiness is not priggishness, that en-
thusiasm and heroism and contempt for conventional standards
are as possible now as in that far-off day when Jesus walked
and taught in Galilee.

THE LAND OF " WE ARE THE SAINTS."

Then there came from the University pulpit such sermons
as the old collegiate church of St. Mary had long been strange
to. The Catholic ideal was held up before Englishmen, and
they were told that its spirit should be their own : the spirit
which produced a St. Athanasius fighting against a world for
one mystical truth ; the spirit which produced a St. Thomas of
Canterbury defying to the death the "reasonable," the "utili-
tarian," the " respectable ' parties of his day, and wnich made
possible not only the sanctity but the beauty and the poetry
of a St. Francis of Assisi, in his coarse habit, preaching to his
" little brothers ' the birds along the roadsides of his brown
Umbrian hills. And England rubbed her eyes and shook her-
self, and looked affrighted and screamed back a denial that such
was the spirit of her religion. But that gentle, suasive voice
from St. Mary's pulpit continued to call upon a generation
whase eyes were earth-bound to look upward at the brightness
above their heads, and one by one the choicer spirits in the
Oxford world did so, and Newman found himself the leader of a
great party the party which history has dubbed the Tractarians.

CLERICAL ARISTOCRATS.

One of the first visible effects of Newman's teaching and
example was the quick decadence among the younger Oxford
men of that affected pomposity which had grown to be a note
of the successful university preachers and professors. A small
matter this, perhaps, but it pointed a fact of no little import :
the fact that men were realizing that holiness and learning
might mean naturalness, and brightness and grace. It meant
that one of the husks of stupidity in which the English mind
had been enwrapt was broken. It would be difficult to exagger-
ate the difference in tone between the awkwardness, the dreari-
ness, the affectation of the Protestant notion of a religious
man, and what has been called the "joyousness' of the
Catholic saint that spirit of gentle gaiety which made St.
Philip Neri's cell in the Eternal City known as "the home of
Christian mirth," and which prompted Blessed Thomas More,

1 897.] A DEBT TO NEWMAN. 435

as he toiled up the steps of the scaffold to his martyrdom, to
say merrily to the headsman, " I pray thee see me safe up ; as
for my coming down I'll shift for myself." The association
in the English mind of a stilted solemnity with high morality
was well-nigh universal. Even Thackeray, the most unpuritani-
cal of English novelists, was seemingly unable to rid himself
of a Puritan taint whenever he essayed the portrait of a genu-
inely good man ; Henry Esmond, far and away his highest
achievement of that type, comes dangerously near to being
only a prig. Of Newman's personality his contemporaries have
given the world some vivid pictures. Mr. Aubrey de Vere
recalls " a singularly graceful figure in cap and gown ' which
glided into an Oxford common-room in 1838, a figure "whose
slight form and gracious address might have belonged to a
youthful ascetic of the middle ages, . . . swift of pace, but
when not walking intensely still." Thomas Mozley fills in the
details of this portrait when he writes that " Newman did
not carry his head aloft" or make the best use of his
height. He did not stoop, but he had a slight bend forwards,
owing perhaps to the rapidity of his movements, and to his
always talking while he was walking. His gait was that of a
man upon serious business bent, and not on a promenade.
There was no pride in his port or defiance in his eye." And
this naturalness, this lack of pose, he took with him into the
pulpit. Those who heard his Oxford sermons recall a manner
devoid of fierce gesture or theatric affectations, and they tell
us of a haunting memory of " a sweet, pathetic voice." All of
which was a welcome relief from the usual manner of the day
-that manner which Newman at a later date so keenly satir-
ized in his story of Loss and Gain where he speaks of preach-
ers " spouting out commonplaces in a deep or a shrill voice,
or with slow, clear, quiet emphasis and significant eyes." And
it attracted to St. Mary's Church the bright men, and the un-
spoiled minds of the university ; men of such diverse minds,
and in the event of such widely differing destinies, as Dean
Stanley and George W. Ward, Gladstone and Mark Pattison,
Lord Coleridge and J. A. Froude, Principal Shairp and Car-
dinal Manning men who were to be moulders of opinion at a
later day. In short, all that was high-minded in the Oxford
world felt the charm of the man, and, like Manning, being "led
captive by his form and voice and penetrating words at even-
song in the University Church," listened reverently, and listening
caught, each according to his worth, a vision of the great ideal.

43 6 A DEBT TO NEWMAN. [Jan.,

THE PARTING OF THE WAYS.

In 1841 Newman was at the height of his career as an An-
glican, Tractarianism was become a great fact in English reli-
gious history, and England herself was beginning to ask doubt-
fully if perhaps she had been mistaken when she denied that
the Catholic ideal was in truth the true ideal of her church.
A little later, however^ Newman himself answered this question ;
he had learned that England had been right in her denial,
that he was not where he belonged, and then the secretly warn-
ing voice was hushed for a time. Principal Shairp gives ut-
terance in beautiful words to the feeling of desolation which
fell upon Oxford when, in 1843, Newman resigned the univer-
sity pulpit : " It was as when to one kneeling by night, in the
silence of some vast cathedral, the great bell tolling solemnly
overhead has suddenly gone still." Two years later that " great
bell ' tolled again, but in its true home, and some of those
"kneeling by night' followed its sound into the white day of
Catholicity. The great teacher and the more faithful of his dis-
ciples had learned at last that their ideal was not that of Angli-
canism, those virtues which they loved most were not the virtues
which she valued, and that hatred for the thraldom of the ignoble,
the commonplace, the conventional, was in truth no natural spirit
for the followers of the " reformed ' religion, and after weary
days of doubt and fear they "came home " and were at peace.

NEWMAN'S INFLUENCE ON PRESENT-DAY ANGLICANISM.

It is a fashion with a certain school to claim that the in-
fluence upon English civilization of Newman's teaching was
destroyed by his " secession ' to Rome. Leaving to one side
all consideration of the far-reaching effects which the resuscita-
tion of the Catholic Church in England a work which was
peculiarly Newman's as well as Wiseman's and Manning's must
have upon that civilization, it is a narrow vision which fails to
note the effect which his teaching has had upon the trend of
higher English thought and endeavor in the last fifty years.
When the men who refused to follow Newman into the church,
either from fear, or lack of clear thought, or attachment to the
world, went out from the university they were not as other
men. They carried with them shreds and fragments of his
teaching which, in spite of themselves, changed their attitude
towards religion and the arts and literature. A wizard had
touched their eyes and opened them to wider vistas. The
Establishment as it was under the Georges became to them a

1897-] A DEBT TO NEWMAN. 437

hateful thing, and such men as Church and Liddon set about
to change its face. That they should fail to make of the
cumbrous makeshift a church such as they dreamed of was, of
course, a foregone conclusion, but that they succeeded in
elevating its tone no one can well deny. If Anglicanism to-day
stands for better and purer things than ever before since the
evil day when it sprang into being from Henry VIII. 's besotted
mind, it does so because Newman once taught its teachers.
So long as it is the church of a majority of Englishmen of the
educated classes its influence upon English civilization must be
great, and if upon the whole that influence is for something
higher than it was in the eighteenth century it is because
Newman's " sweet, pathetic ' voice yet echoes within its walls.

RELIGIOUS RENAISSANCE IN ENGLISH ART.

Mr. Henry Van Brunt, who is, probably, at once the most
thoughtful and the most sympathetic writer upon architecture
that America has yet produced, tells us that that art is " curi-
ously sensitive to every essential phase " in the eventful history
of the human mind, and he supplements this statement by
another of great meaning, and that is that "the Gothic revival
[in England] is the only instance in history of a moral revolu-
tion in art." The Gothic revival was essentially the work of
A. W. Pugin, a devoted disciple of Newman and one of those
who followed him "to Rome." Associated with Pugin in this
revival was Ruskin, concerning whom it is not extravagant to
claim that he was made possible by Tractarianism. The author
of Stones of Venice, Sesame and Lilies, and Mornings in Florence
would have been simply unintelligible to the men of the eigh-
teenth century, and his fierce denunciation of utilitarianism
would have seemed to them but the ravings of a distempered
mind. If, as is doubtless true, the Gothic revival did not end
in the creation of a great modern English school of architec-
ture, it none the less was of vast importance in freeing the
English mind from that tyranny of stupidity which had so be-
numbed it. Strange as it must seem to any educated man of
to-day, it is nevertheless true that Englishmen and Americans
of the early nineteenth century were alike blind to the beauty
and the grace and the sublimity of those Gothic cathedrals
which are so precious a heritage from Catholic days. A
Christopher Wren steeple perched upon a pseudo-classic facade
-a monstrous and horrible combination was to them a more
beautiful creation than Salisbury Cathedral rising like an em-

438 A DEBT TO NEWMAN. [Jan.,

bodied prayer above its plain, or than the heavenward arches
of ruined Fountains Abbey standing like mute, pathetic memo-
ries of a beautiful day long dead. The Gothic revivalists did
something, too, for English civilization besides reviving the
sense of beauty, for they stood always for truth and conscience
in art, elements long forgotten under the reign of convention-
alism. And it was for truth that that little band of enthusi-
asts, Rossetti, Morris, and Holman Hunt the so-called Pre-
raphaelite school of painters stood. Caught by the wave of
awakening sentiment which was sweeping over the English
mind, these men headed a revolt against the inanity and
the falsity of English art. Met by a storm of abuse and scorn
and ridicule, they too found a defender in Ruskin. Whether
or not one sees the beauty of their pictures and they are
beautiful with a tender mysticism derived directly from the
spirit and the manner of that faith which Newman rediscovered
for England surely no one can deny that the Preraphaelites
stood for truth and freedom and high endeavor, as opposed to
the false ideas of beauty and to the servile conventions which
had made English art so stupid a thing. Not that they abso-
lutely transformed that art and made it great ; for explain it as
men may, it is a fact that no Protestant nation has ever pro-
duced a great school of painters old and new, the great
schools, Italian, Spanish, Flemish, French, belong to Catho-
lic countries ; but they did open men's eyes to the beautiful
and the true, and they paved the way for artists like Watts
and Burne-Jones, who to-day make English art a thing of finer
meaning and more distinguished than it had been for two cen-
turies before their time.

POETRY RECOGNIZES THE " LARGER HOPE."

In literature the effects of Tractarianism have been no less
marked than in painting and architecture. Heroism, grace,
and a belief in the nobility of high aspirations are no longer
wanting in the pages of modern singers and essayists and nov-
elists.. New and false theories of life not a few have sprung
into being and have cast their shadows upon English literature
of the last quarter century ; but the pall of grovelling stupid-
ity is lifted. No longer is it possible for men of even average
discernment to accept Hannah More's pietistic platitudes as
wisdom, or to find pleasure in Maria Edgeworth's apotheosis of
smug respectability. Newman's influence is yet too potent for
" Evangelical ' deadness to rule as it once did. And, too, in

1897.] A DEBT TO NEWMAN. 439

much of the work of latter-day writers who seem to stray far-
thest from his ideal, there are many hints of Newman's influ-
ence. Brother Azarias has pointed out the resemblances and
the divergences between Shelley's "Adonais" and Tennyson's
"In Memoriam," and among those divergences is the vast dif-
ference in their attitude towards faith. Shelley, who belongs
to the pre-Tractarian age, in "Adonais' finds nothing higher in
the idea of a future life than "sleep," while the author of "In
Memoriam," sensitively alive as he is to all the mysteries and
difficulties and perplexities which modern doubt throws in the
soul's pathway, yet clings to faith as he gropes and falters

" Upon the great world's altar-stairs
That slope through darkness up to God."

An echo of Newman's plea that difficulties need not mean doubt.
The " Idyls of the King ' in yet more obvious way witness
to the influence of the great teacher, for while Scott could
catch nothing but the glitter of the tinsel of the pageantful
ages of faith, Tennyson sees deeper and realizes in a measure
the spiritual beauty and significances of that great era.

NEWMAN'S INFLUENCE ON AMERICA OF THE FUTURE.

That Americans no less than Englishmen owe to the great
man, who died a cardinal of the Holy Roman Church, the debt
of emancipation from the ignoble in art and literature and
ethics, can scarcely be questioned. Be he Catholic or Protes-
tant the man of average ability cannot escape the influence of
the time-spirit of his day and generation. Only a man of tran-
scendent genius and vast spiritual power can turn that time-
spirit into a higher and nobler thing than he finds it, and such
a man was Newman. The bond of a common language and
of like traditions in so far as Americans can be said to have
any traditions makes us peculiarly sensitive to English senti-
ment in the higher life. That the strange mixing of diverse
nationalities which America is now witnessing will in the event
produce a new and un-English type is doubtless true. But the
new type is as yet in the process of development, and mean-
while we are subject always to the Anglo-Saxon influence
peculiarly so since for many years the Puritan type of Anglo-
Saxon thought held well-nigh undisputed sway in American
education and letters, and Puritanism has ever been the intol-
erant enemy of the beautiful, its spirit making life a dreary
thing and death a horror.

440

A NEW YEAR'S DAWN.

[Jan.,

A NEW YEAR'S DAWN.

BY HILDEGARDE.

T was Christmas week, and two days before the
New Year. A cold, sleety rain was falling in the
afternoon as it had been since morning, and
an atmosphere of dreary discomfort prevailed
throughout the city. Such a condition of things
is always more or less depressing, and it had something but
not everything to do with the very gloomy faces worn by two
young men as they made their exit through the ponderous door
of a certain large business firm on Wall Street ; nor could the
weather account altogether for the expressive bang which em-
phasized their departure, and resounded through the building
like the report of a cannon.

In sullen silence at first they trudged along together. The
disgust and annoyance visible on their countenances was evi-
dently too deep for words. " Jove ! ' at last said one, " if
these are not hard lines." A grunt from his companion was
the sole response. " Christmas week, too ! ' he continued.

"It is pretty much as I expected," said the other, a little
thawed out by brisk walking. " It's always the case this time
of the year ; just when you reasonably look for work to hold
up a bit, it piles upon you like an avalanche."

"But, Ramsey, you'll acknowledge I'm the under dog this
time."

" How so ? "

"Didn't I tell you that I pledged my word for the Melville
theatre party this afternoon ? There is no use going now it is
too late."

" Well, what's your word worth to Worthington ? if you'll
excuse the pun."

" Nothing, I suppose ; but upon my word I'm awfully cut
up. They have counted on me, I know, and I'll be in their
bad books ; if you believe me, I'm just out of them."

"Too bad, old boy ; but it's too late to cry now. You'll
only have to lay yourself out to apologize."

"Apologize ! Not I ; I'll refer them to that cast-iron Worth-
ington this time. . . . But say, wasn't it a mean trick?
Do you know, I often wonder if that fellow has a spark of
feeling under his irreproachable waistcoat."

i897-] A NEW YEAR'S DAWN. 441

You may depend upon it, Morris, that he has, and more
than you and I put together. Goodness knows he has reason
to feel keenly sometimes ! '

"Nonsense, Ramsey; you're romancing. I notice you have
been always touchy in that quarter. How did you come to
know so much about him anyhow?'

" Well, only that as far back as I can remember I have
known the Worthingtons from first to last. Our families were
neighbors for years, and have always been first-class friends.
Why, Robert Worthington and I were at Fordham together
for eight years. He was a capital student, and it was not long
before professors and students respected his brains with some-/
thing like awe. I never thought he would go in for stocks and
bonds then, I tell you."

" Lucky for us, to-day, if he hadn't."

" Yes, perhaps, but don't be too hard on him ; a better-
hearted fellow never breathed."

"Then what has turned him so crusty within the last year?
I own he used to be pretty decent."

Here our two friends paused in their walk and hailed a car,
so the question remained unanswered until both were comfort-
ably seated and several minutes on their journey.

" You were asking/' said Ramsey " oh, yes ! it's a long
story. Poor Robert ! it is only doing him justice to tell it ;
but, remember, you must consider what I say as strictly con-
fidential."

"Very well; I'm like the grave."

"You know Mrs. Worthington, I am sure, if you know the
Melvilles."

"Yes, I have met her scores of times, but I can't say that
I know her very well ; she has not an overweening affection
for ' youngsters,' as she calls us."

" Her name was Helen Morrison. She married Worthing-
ton two years after she left boarding school, where she was a
very popular girl and a leading character in many respects. I
need not tell you that she was then, as she is now, remarkably
beautiful, and almost queenly in her bearing. It is hardly ex-
aggeration to say that at one time the world was at her feet ;
and I tell you Robert had many a strong rival. No one ever
doubted the sequence, however, because it had been an under-
stood thing between the two families since Helen's twelfth
year that she would marry Robert. I knew her myself quite
well, and I watched the proceedings of both parties with inter-
est. Morrison's house was often filled with a number of lively

442 A NEW YEAR'S DAWN. [Jan.,

guests, and no one for many miles around was as ingenious in
getting up novelties in the way of amusement as the fair Helen.
Sometimes things looked rather threatening for Robert, but he
was almost her equal in point of pride, so he never pouted or
complained or seemed to notice these things at all ; and if his
heart ever did ache no one, not even his bosom friends, were
any the wiser. In this respect they were much alike reticent
as to themselves to the last degree. I used to think at the
time, and I do still, that Robert's patience with her on some
occasions was too heroic. Poor fellow ! I wonder if it would
have been so angelic could he have had a peep into the future ?
for, whether it was virtue or whether it was pride which nerved
him to bear things as he did, one thing was clear that he was
very much in love with her."

" Hurry up with the facts, Ramsey ; don't mind moraliz-
ing."

"Where was I? Well, all cases are like theirs, more or less
one week off and the other week on."

" Diddlee, diddlo, dumpling, my son John," added his irrev-
erent listener ; " but of course it came out all right they
always do in stories like yours."

'No," answered his friend, with an indulgent laugh. "Yes,
it did ; and remained so for about four years at least to all
appearances. I used to see Robert sometimes at dinners and
balls with his wife, when he looked like a veritable martyr."

" Come, now, that's rather hard on Mrs. W- I think."

" That may be, but it is true nevertheless. You see, although
they moved, strictly speaking, in the same circle before they
married, Robert had always been very particular in the choice
of his set. He was hand-in-glove with literary men and college
professors. His rooms were the haunts of men of science and
letters. Now, Mrs. Worthington, though really something above
the average woman intellectually, had associated her name with
persons of totally different aims; she moved among the ultra-
worldly, who, though keeping always within the bounds of
strict society laws, were, to say the least, undesirable friends
from many stand-points. The great pity is that Worthington
did not see this until it was too late ; or if he did, he proba-
bly entertained hopes of effecting a change in his wife's aspira-
tions."

" He strikes me as being a great home-body."

"You are right; and still I would not call him a morbid
one by any means. He told me once that he was afraid he
had some very antiquated ideas with regard to the ' family

1 897.] A NEW YEAR'S DAWN. 443

hearth.' Certainly he has done what he could to render his
own all that could be desired by the most fastidious. His
home in the West End has no parallel for elegance and com-
fort."

" It does not suit Mrs. W- , though, I suppose."

"It seemed to please her for a time. Robert allowed
her the utmost liberty with regard to choice of guests; the
house was continually filled, so that both of them were almost
strangers to private life, as Worthington put it to me one
day. Naturally, as time went on, he got sick of it all, espe-
cially as he discovered that his wife was ever willing to dispense
with his own presence in fact, seemed rather relieved to have
him out of the way, -except when propriety made it necessary
that he should be with her. This I don't suppose she ever
told him in so many words, but you know how a woman can
make you feel a thing or perhaps you don't ; you are young."

" Has he no children ? '

"Yes, one little girl a frail little thing, as shy as a fawn
and as pretty as a picture ; she ought to be a strong bond of
union between the two, because they are both very fond of
her. Her father idolizes her, but it worries him a good deal
to see how she is being brought up. She won't go with other
children, but clings with pitiful fondness to her parents. It is
almost pathetic to see father and daughter together. I was in
the library once with Worthington when Evelyn came in. I
give you my word I felt really delicate about my position as
third party to the pair."

" Is there a real division between Mr. and Mrs. Worthing-
ton now ? '

"Yes, for a year or so past I learn that their relations
have been icily formal. They are both Catholics; the- Mor-
risons always were ; but the Worthingtons are converts to the
faith. Husband and wife are not very practical, I believe."

" No, I suppose not. How about the child does she seem
to notice any coolness between her parents ? '

" That I do not know, but have no doubt she does."

" Good-by, old boy; here is more of my bad luck half a
block out of my way, and you get off here," said Philip Mor-
ris as he abruptly left the car ; adding, " Be on hand early to-
morrow, and we'll pull things through before sundown."

Mr. Worthington, quite unconscious that he and his affairs
were forming food for the foregoing chat, likewise too absorbed
in his own thoughts to suspect any hard feelings towards him

444 ^ NEW YEAR'S DAWN. [Jan.,

which by this time had softened considerably sought conso-
lation and distraction in the fumes of a cigar. That morning
he had. received a notice of an uncle's death, which meant to
him an enormous legacy. But he was strangely unmoved by
either event.

The deep lines upon his brow, as he sat facing the open
fire in his handsomely appointed office, had not been called up
by any speculation upon dollars and cents. He was thinking
of his own home in his father's house, and of the happy,
united group which surrounded the fireside in days gone by.
He could see the bright faces of the little ones as they lis-
tened to the Christmas stories, and counted and recounted in
ecstasies of delight the gifts which Santa Claus had brought
them. His little girl had received many rare and costly gifts ;
but how different it all was ! how useless all his efforts to
make her Christmas bear any resemblance to that one in his
memory, yet how he longed to do so ! Sighing, he threw his
cigar into the fire, and a half-involuntary groan escaped him.
" How long, O Lord! must life hold such bitterness for me?'
Yes, quite involuntarily he addressed the Almighty. How
much better it would have been if long before he had turned
in earnest to Him who said those words so comforting: "Come
unto me all ye who labor and are burdened, and I will refresh
you."

"Why therefore should we do ourselves this wrong,
Or others that we are not always strong,
That we are ever overborne with care,)
That we should ever weak or heartless be,
Anxious or troubled when with us is prayer, .
And joy and strength and courage are with Thee ? '

A few moments more he stood before his fire-place, while
his thoughts dwelt now upon what awaited him after his hour's
drive ; upon his wife so estranged from him, his little girl,
whose tender affections had wound themselves so closely around
his heart. But the sky began to lower and darkness was fall-
ing upon the city. Outside the coachman was impatiently
tapping his whip on his boots. Mr. Worthington awoke from
his revery to exchange the glow of his comfortable office for a
view of the wet, shining streets.

How cold and inhospitable the great house seemed to him
until at his library window he saw a little white hand wiping
away the mist which had gathered there, and a child's, face
peering out into the darkness. Head and hand quickly disap-

1897-] A NEW YEAR'S DA WN. 445

peared, however, for before her father had mounted half the
steps which led to his door Evelyn was clasped tightly in
his arms.

" Well, darling," he said, as he stood her down upon the
rug in the great hall, "you have been waiting for me?'

" Oh, yes, father ! ' she said, pressing a burning cheek against
his hand, "so long, it seems like a year."

" A year ! that's a long time for my little girl to wait yet,
see dearie, I am only a half-hour later than usual."

" Well, perhaps but it seemed that long to me. And now,
father, hurry and dress ; dinner is ready, and I'm so hot and
cross, and I think I want the rest of that story to-night you
know you promised."

Here a servant, who took his master's hat and coat from
him, ventured the remark that " Miss Evelyn had not eaten a
mouthful that day."

"Evelyn," said her father, "is this true?'

"Yes, father, I couldn't eat; I wanted you home so much
all day and I had a big lump in my throat that made me
cry whenever I tried to eat."

"Yes, sir," interposed the man, "she has been saying that
. to all of us, but nurse says there ain't a spot or a speck on
her throat. She thinks Miss Evelyn has been fretting, and her
feelings made the lump."

" Where is nurse ? Send her here at once."

" O father ! poor nurse has been sick in bed all day. Her
head is aching dreadfully, and I can't make her better." Here
Mr. Worthington drew the little face in the direct gas-light,
and observed, with a sickening anxiety, a glassiness about the
eyes and an unusual flush in the cheeks, which clearly indicated
some serious disorder.

" My poor little girl ! ' he said as he lifted her in his arms,
"come now and try to eat a little dinner; it was not right
for you to go so long without eating. Mason, order some wine
jelly and a glass of iced milk for Miss Evelyn."

So father and daughter went hand-in-hand into the great
dining-room, with its many e.mpty leather chairs and its general
tone of lonely grandeur. Old Bismarck, a gigantic English
mastiff, followed close upon the heels of his little mistress, and
settled himself at full length upon the rug in front of the fire.
He had long been Evelyn's best friend and constant playmate.
A sweet picture they made as the reddened gas-light fell upon
them and lightened up the life-sized portrait on the wall be-
hind them of a woman with a queenly bearing and a beauti-
VOL. LXIV. 29

446 A NEW YEAR'S DAWN. [Jan.,

ful face, whose strong likeness to the little one seated now at
the table made clear the relationship between them.

" Bismarck," said Mr. Worthington, " your poor mistress is
ill to-night ; what have you been doing to her ? '

"O father! the dear old dog he didn't make me sick, but
he knows lots of things about me, because I've no one else to
talk to the whole afternoon, and I told him every single secret
I had didn't I, Bis?"

" So ho ! Miss Evelyn has some secrets from her father."

" Oh, no, father ! they're just little things I know he won't
tell. You know I didn't want mother to go out again to-day
because it was raining and I don't like Mrs. Melville. I wish
she'd stop coming for mother all the time, and I told Bis-
marck so."

"Did mother say how long she would be out, darling?'

" No, father ; she just told me I could do anything I liked,
and I must not get lonely, for she really had to go ; she said
it was a theatre party, and every one would be vexed if she
didn't go. But look, father dear, I have eaten all my jelly, and
the milk has nearly all gone too. Let us hurry into the
library, or mother will come home with all those 'people and
I'll have to go to bed."

If Evelyn had a lump in her throat, her father had one too
as he listened to the words which fell from her innocent lips.
He was now keenly aware that her mind, child though she was,
had penetrated his secret, and, in spite of the delicate art she
employed when touching upon it, he felt that her heart had
ached over it all many a time, perhaps, when she seemed most
unconscious to him. This reflection caused him a new and
sharp pang. " Could she not be spared a share in this
anguish ? ' he exclaimed within himself. Evelyn did not hear
these words, but she seemed to interpret the sigh which escaped
his lips, and when her father looked down into her flower-like
face again he saw he had stirred her feelings to tears.

" I think my little girl had better go to bed, and .we'll have
the story another night." " Mason," he called, as he saw the
man pass the door, " I think it would be well to summon Dr.
Reynolds to-night for Miss Evelyn."

"O father ! please don't ; I just hate doctors. I'll take any-
thing you like really I will. Nurse has some splendid medi-
cine ; she says it will cure anything, and I'll go to bed right
away."

Before he could reply Evelyn had given him her good-
night kiss and she and Bismarck started for the door.

1897.] A NEW YEAR'S DAWN. 447

" Very well," he called after her ; " but, Evans, see that Mary
goes to her, and tell her to sleep next to the child. Nurse is
ill and cannot be there to-night."

Presently, however, the little head appeared at the door
again. " Father ! ' she called out, " Mary never hears me say
my prayers ; shall I say them to you ? '

" To me?' said her father, quite dazed at the proposal;
" why yes, darling, I suppose so if nurse is not on hand."

So she knelt at his knee, looking full into his face, as she
clasped her little fingers and poured out her prayers to God
-the prayers her old nurse had taught her.

Robert Worthington was a strong man, he had faced un-
flinchingly many a trying ordeal, but this pathetic scene called
for more control of nerve and heart than he could command.
Who can divine all that the little kneeling figure recalled
to his mind, the depths which her sweet pleadings stirred with-
in his breast ? Thus had he once knelt at his own mother's knee
and called down a blessing on himself and on those he loved ;
thus had he turned his trusting eyes to God and said " Forgive,
as we forgive." Could his heart now repeat those words which
had so long been strangers to his lips ? A hot tear fell upon
the uplifted hands ; springing to her feet and upon his lap, the
innocent cause of it all was soon caressing her father with
loving tenderness ; her sympathy was a silent one. She asked
no question and he made no explanation, but that night an
understanding passed between father and daughter more real
and clear than words could make it. The two remained silent
and absorbed for some moments until the noise of wheels and
many voices broke in upon them a warning to Evelyn of her
bed-time. One more hug, and Mary beckoned her from the
room. " No, Bismarck," she said, " lie still and stay with
father, and don't leave him alone one minute." This injunc-
tion to the dog she imparted with uplifted finger and departed ;
but it was not to sleep. That night she spent in restless toss-
ings upon her bed. Often, in semi-delirium, she exclaimed :
" Poor, poor father! Oh, why doesn't he come home?'

Once her mother, who had been aroused from her sleep by
this cry, came and said to her: " Father is all right, darling;
why do you worry so ? '

" I can't help it," she replied ; . " why, don't you know he has
a big lump just like mine? Bismarck knows; I told him."

" Mary, what does she mean ? '

" I don't know, ma'am ; indeed she don't seem to be in her
right mind. Mr. Worthington is telephoning for Dr. Reynolds,

448 A NEW YEAR'S DAWN. [Jan.,

and he'll soon see to Miss Evelyn. Hadn't you better go to
bed, ma'am? and I'll come and tell you what he says."

" Well, perhaps I had, for if I am going to the Club Ball
to-morrow night I shall be a fright unless I get a little sleep."

"Well, ma'am, go right off. Here comes Mr. Worthington
upstairs now ; he is going to remain until the doctor comes."

Dr. Reynolds found his patient's case a little serious ; but
not being an alarmist, he forbade Mr. W- any over-anxiety.
"Children are subject to sudden and high fevers, you know,"
said he, " and the absence of any bad throat symptom is en-
couraging. She must get the medicine at regular intervals until
I see her in the morning. You will see to it yourself ? Ah !
very well. I am sure she is in safe hands."

Evelyn's condition, in spite of the remedies, continued to
look very serious, and it was late in the morning before her
father could tear himself away to attend to his business, and
then he remained at his office but a few hours. During luncheon
he sat opposite his wife, whose relations towards him had been
a little less strained since Evelyn's illness had given them a com-
mon anxiety. They spoke for a few moments about her, and
then Mrs. Worthington broached the subject of the Club Ball.

" Mr. Worthington," she said, resuming her formal attitude
towards him, " you know we are expected to attend the Club
Ball to-night. You have accepted the invitation, I believe, and
I presume you intend to accompany me there."

" You are right, madam ; but under the circumstances it
seems right that I should alter my intentions."

"I see no sufficient reason for so doing. Evelyn is in no
immediate danger, the doctor has assured me, and she has
often been as ill as she is to-day."

" That may be, but you will own that her case is a serious
one. I do not think that Reynolds is quite certain as to its
nature yet."

" Well, of course if there is any way of getting out of it, I
might expect you to avail yourself of it ! '

" On the contrary, madam, the reason which prompted me
to accept would urge me to be present if it were possible. I
think it our duty to remain at home to-night, both of us. We
would never forgive ourselves if ' -but he did not finish the
sentence before Mrs. Worthington was making her way rapidly
out of the room. His refusal, and the reproach contained in
it, was too much for her pride. " Mary," she called at the
door where her child now lay in a quiet, sweet sleep,
"Evelyn's better, much better, is she not?'

1 897-1 A NEW YEAR'S DAWN. 449

" Why yes, she is sleeping see."

" I wish you would telephone for Mr. and Mrs. Weathersby
to call for me this evening on their way to the Club Ball ; say
I shall be ready any time after nine o'clock." She tiptoed to
the bedside and kissed the white, moist brow of her little one,
and then went to take a short sleep before making her pre-
parations for the evening.

Once more, before going to the ball, she bent over the little
form this time daintily holding back her rustling silk gown ;
the light from the diamonds at her throat drew a cry of pain
from the child, who, since her illness, had been peculiarly
sensitive to light of any kind thus, indeed, leading the doctor
to fear a derangement of the brain. " Has my little girl a
kiss for her mother?' she said. " There dear, don't pull down
my hair ; Julia has just done it up for me; mother will be back
soon, darling; now go to sleep and dream pretty things about
her." But Evelyn's eyes wore an expressionless gaze ; they
followed her to the door, and with a plaintive sigh the little
one sank back in helplessness upon the pillows.

That night, when the lights were brightest, the music sweet-
est, and the mother's face wreathed in happy smiles, the spirit
of her only child the angel which adorned her hearth passed
away.

Within the chamber of death a man whose hair has blanched
with a sudden, overpowering sorrow is pacing the floor in an
agony of grief. The sound of vehicles approaching, the noise
of talking, and the gay, careless laughter of one among them
send a shudder through his frame. Are they entering ? Surely
not had they not already desecrated his home with their heart-
less gaiety? Must their irreverent feet again violate this sanc-
tuary? Must they then be sent away? Oh, if it might be so
-for ever ! They have gone at last ! A message containing
but half the truth has dispersed them, and a sudden hush fol-
lows their departure.

The rustling of silk is heard upon the stairway just as the
piercing cry of an animal is heard through the house. Bis-
marck is voicing the grief which hangs like a cloud over his
master's home. A tall, dark-robed form appeared at the door
of the child's chamber, and one glance reveals the person of
Helen Morrison's old confessor. He meets her and, extending
his hand, tells her that God has prepared a cross for her ; but
she hurries on she cannot and will not believe all that his
serious tone conveys. Alas ! her worst fears are too soon con-

450 A NEW YEAR'S DAWN. [Jan.

firmed. There on the little bed lies her darling child waxen
and still. AH around are weeping figures. In the recess of a
window stands her husband, looking out into the night. For a
space of time .which seems interminable she looks from one to
the other, but no words pass her lips. At last she catches,
a glimpse in a mirror of her own form and her adornments, so
out of keeping with this scene of mourning. That glance is
enough. She tears the diamond necklace from her throat and
flings it upon the floor. Catching up the nurse's woollen shawl,
which lies across a chair, she opens its folds and gathers it
closely around her.

A servant speaks from the door: "Father Morris bids me
tell you he will go now, if you do not require him further."

" Oh, no!" she cries at last, "he must not go; tell him I
will see him in the library."

Rushing into her dressing-room, she clothes herself in a
black gown, and then goes to Father Morris, with whom she
holds long converse.

The front door closes upon him at last and Helen Worth-
ington, re-entering the room where her dead child lies, throws
herself upon her knees in the presence of all. " O my hus-
band ! " she cries, " against whom I have so long steeled my
heart; my blessed child! 'to whom I have been no mother; my
servants ! whom I have scandalized by my worldliness look at
me here before you all, and try to forgive me." No answer
falls from the lips of the listeners their feelings are stirred
beyond the power of speech.

" Helen," at length says a voice beside her, while strong
arms lift her from the floor, "our angel has gone, but God has
sent us his holy peace in her place. Let us thank him."

Altars of rare woods and costly marbles have been raised,
the world over, by the hands of men to do honor to God ;
but that little altar of white-lined wood, that image of an- an-
gel's face within, over which two estranged hearts are renewing
their marriage vows and their promises of fidelity to the duties
of religion, is an altar raised by the hand of God himself, upon
which his own merciful designs are being accomplished through
the ministry of a little child.

Sleep, gentle soul ; await thy Maker's will,
The sleep unchanged, and be an angel still.'

MAIN STREET IN FOXFORD.

A NEW WOMAN'S WORK IN THE WEST OF

IRELAND.

BY MARGUERITE MOORE.

N September, 1894, manure-heaps in front of every
cabin in the town of Foxford and townland of
Kinnenany ; in June, 1895, those excrescences
removed to the background, replaced by gar-
dens redolent of mignonette, roses, sweet-pea,
nasturtiums, clove carnations, and such delightful blossoms, sur-
rounding patches of useful vegetables, onions, carrots, parsnips,
etc., hitherto unknown in that neglected part of the world.
This almost incredible change in an unpromising locality has
been brought about by the charity, piety, and energy of a lady
who, were she not a Sister of Charity, would have been called a
"new woman." When she began work as an industrial re-
former she undertook a task from which men would shrink a
task which men could not accomplish, needing as it did the exer-
cise of the womanly virtues of patience, faith, hope, and charity.
Foxford, County Mayo, is one of the congested districts, so-
called owing to the means of subsistence being utterly inadequate
to the number of the population. Men and women amongst
whom starvation has been hereditary for generations are apt
to be lethargic. The dead past buries itself, there is no work
for the living present, and the future holds promise of no im-
provement. Unconscious of their degradation, they make no
effort to better themselves.

The sky is brightly blue, birds carol, flowers spring up and
bibbling brooks dance merrily over the pebbles, yet the people's

452

A NEW WOMAN'S WORK

[Jan.,

hearts are chill, impoverished blood creeps sluggishly in their
veins. The illustration of the main street in Foxford, with
the heap of rubbish in the centre of the roadway, gives an
idea of the aspect of things when Mrs. Morrogh Bernard, of
the Sisters of Charity, borrowed one thousand pounds to es-
tablish a branch of her community amongst these wretched
people, whose need for a convent and the kindly ministrations
of a sisterhood had been repeatedly pointed out by mission-
ary priests, particularly the Redemptorists who were there in
1880, the Franciscans who preached there in 1890. When Mr.
Balfour arrived to see things for himself, he established tem-
porary relief works ; but even with the vast resources at com-
mand he could not do for Foxford what has been done by the
well-directed zeal and loving charity of the sisters.

On the 26th of April the convent was opened and the man-
agement of the National schools given to the sisters, who found
the roll-call was small indeed in proportion to the population.
Disused corn-stores near the convent were changed into a large,
airy school-house calculated to accommodate three times the

" RIDING AT TIMES IN GREAT STATE AND COMFORT."

number of children on the lists. When the nuns sought to
gather in pupils they found that want of clothing was an ob-
stacle to attendance. The kindness of friends helped them to
surmount this difficultv. A warm breakfast of mush and milk

was given the younger children after their walk. The paths

i8 9 7.]

IN THE WEST OF IRELAND.

453

of learning being thus smoothed, children came from far and
near riding at times in great state and comfort, as shown in
the illustration and very soon the building of a spacious infant
school became necessary.

So far so good ; but what was to be done with those chil-

"SooN THE WATERS OF THE MOY DANCED TO THE Music OF MACHINERY."

dren when educated ? They would no longer be content with
squalid surroundings. Should they join the surging tide of emi-
grants pouring upon the American shore ? go into life-long
exile, and perhaps lose the faith ? They were needed at home
-how keep them there ?

A river rolling by to the sea offered the solution of the
problem, for the convent was built on the banks of the Moy
(Mary's River), a broad, rushing river fed by many a moun-
tain torrent ; not by any means a gently-flowing stream, but
a tumbling, brawling, want-to-be-busy volume of water that
rolled over rocks and sang and danced with excess of vital-
ity. Yet the burden of its song was sad, embodying a lament
for its wasted powers, telling of its desire to be useful, and not
to be forced to spend precious time dancing and singing amongst
a poverty-stricken people.

Mrs. Morrogh Bernard listened and understood the value
of that turbulent torrent as a factor in affording employment
for many hands; but she had no money! Who ever' knew a
zealous nun to permit such a small obstacle, to obstruct her
plans for helping others? Mrs. Bernard appealed to the Con-
gested Districts Board, and explained, the benefits to be
conferred on the people in her district by the starting of a

454

A NEW WOMAN'S WORK

[Jan.,

factory and giving of employment. Luckily, the members of
the board were intelligent, astute men who understood what
great work could be done by an energetic, clever woman ; and
placing implicit reliance in Mrs. Morrogh Bernard, they made
her a gift of fifteen hundred pounds and a loan of seven thou-
sand more. The then lord lieutenant, the Earl of Zetland,
gave two hundred pounds, an anonymous donor sent four hun-
dred, and six thousand pounds were borrowed at a rather stiff
rate, and soon the waters of the Moy danced to the music of
machinery which gave employment to many hands, brought
hope and happiness to hearts which had never entertained such
guests, and bade defiance to the perennial famine spectre.

The machinery, bought by an expert, Mr. J. C. Smith, of
Caledon, was of the very best procurable ; nothing but the
purest wool is used, with the result that no production of
English looms can beat the tweeds, serges, flannels, dress-goods,
scarfs, shawls, hosiery in all its branches, yarn, etc., that are

" NOTHING BUT THE PUREST WOOL is USED."

turned out from the Providence factory. Naturally the mills
were run at a loss for some time ; they are now paying their
way, but the heavy interest on the debt f fourteen thousand
is a handicapping burden. No capitalist could have made a
success of the undertaking in such a locality, for none could

1 897.]

IN THE WEST OF IRELAA T D.

455

have sufficiently touched the hearts of the people to drive
forth the enthralling spirits of apathy and lethargy which had
enslaved them, because inherited from generations of progeni-
tors who had regarded starvation as inevitable, and were lazy
because of no incitement to toil, lethargic because improperly

"THERE is A UNIVERSAL EAGERNESS FOR THE ACQUISITION OF KNOWLEDGE."

fed. Women alone could help them ; religious women, who
would persevere to the end because desirous of serving the
Almighty Father through their service to his children. Infi-
nite patience was necessary to teach such people that life held
anything worth a struggle. Content because hopeless, they had
to be excited to the desire for higher conditions of living,
brought to a knowledge of the benefits of punctuality, cleanli-
ness in home and person, and perseverance in labor. Severity
would have discouraged them ; womanly hearts and brains
worked wonders where business-like methods would have com-
pletely failed. Allowances had to be made for lagging feet
and clumsy handicraft. Epidemics of idleness had to be cured
by endurance, and four years' existence of the Providence Tech-
nical Woollen Factory at Foxford show results unequalled in
any undertaking. In the mills, alcove all, can be best seen the
benefit of religious training, going hand-in-hand with technical
teaching, in the exemplary conduct of a large staff of young
men and women, bright, sober, alert, modest, amongst whom
an unseemly word or coarse jest is never uttered. The pres-
ence of the gentle sisters, who overlook every department, has
refined their manners, softened their voices, elevated their
thoughts. Perfect uion, the absence of religious or political
strife, are features of life at Foxford. The head carpenter,
native born and bred, is a staunch Presbyterian. The head

456

A NEW WOMAN'S WORK

[Jan.,

loomer, inner, finisher, and some other importations " frae the
black North," never went to Mass, but they work peacefully
and faithfully, while perhaps wondering if all priests and nuns
are like "Father Conlan and the sisters.''

The mills form only part of the work done at Foxford.
American housewives rejoice ! for never more will raw material
from Mayo break your pet china, scratch your silverware, nor
ruffle your temper, as at the Providence schools a number of
rosy-cheeked lassies receive a course of training in domestic
service ; many more could be housed, fed, and taught if money
were more plentiful. The dairy class, under the tuition of a
certificated teacher, is turning out pupils whose services are
eagerly sought when the time comes for them to seek " fresh
fields and pastures new."

There is a universal eagerness for the acquisition of know-
ledge ; few idlers are in Foxford now. Even the long day's
work at the mill does not prevent the boys from returning
after supper to the handicraft classes, where under the guid-
ance of a couple of carpenters they make windows, gates, etc.,

DEVOTED WOMEN ARE TEACHING THE PEOPLE.

which when in place add to the comfort of their homes. The
energetic small boy proudly whistles as he fixes a well-made
window in the front of his house where a square hole let in
the summer dust and air, and an old caubeen was deemed suf-
ficient to exclude the winter chill. Then there must be fences
and gates to prevent inquisitive pigs from investigating the

1 897.]

IN THE WEST OF IRELAND.

457

new, gardens which add beauty to the landscape, perfume to
the air, and variety to the coarse fare. Thus advancement is
made. " Father Pat," optimist though he be, shook his head
when Mrs. Morrogh Bernard broached the idea of replacing
the manure-heap by a garden. He thought she might as well
invite the Rock of Cashel to come to afternoon tea. The

THE CONNAUGHT EXHIBITION, OPEN TO ALL COMERS.

womanly tact of the sisters did what no preaching could do.
One hundred and thirty manure-heaps were relegated to the
background. The Congested Districts Board sent an expert to
pioneer and plan. Cuttings, seeds, plants, and vines were given
gratis, and now the peasants boast not only of their sweet-
scented flowers but of their kitchen gardens, with their succes-
sion of tasty vegetables hitherto unknown to them. I have
often been exasperated on being told by American acquain-
tances of the scarcity of vegetables in Ireland, and the climax
was reached when informed, on the authority of one particu-
lar Bridget, that we had no cauliflowers in our green land.
Such valuable domestics may have come from Kinnenany, where
the new vegetables occasioned much wonder. One elderly
dame was frightened by the " looks ' of the first carrot she
ventured to pull. When the cooking .class teaches the making
of vegetable soups there will be comfortable dinners in Mayo
homes, served on neat tables made by the boys, covered by
cloths woven and spun by the girls. The great number of
prizes for well-kept gardens, flowers, etc., given at the Con-
naught Exhibition will certainly result in the removal of still

458 A NEW WOMAN'S WORK IN IRELAND. [Jan.,

untouched manure-heaps and a consequent increase of garden
patches.

To introduce the products of the Providence Technical
Mills to the public, that a market might be found for them, as
well as to encourage the natives in their newly acquired habits
of thrift, an exhibition was considered necessary. At the
spring show of the Royal Dublin Society the Foxford exhibit
of woollen goods took a special medal, while second prize was
secured for its butter in a class of many competitors. An ex-
hibition on a small scale was held in September, 1894, the suc-
cess of which encouraged Mrs. Morrogh Bernard in announc-
ing the Gonnaught exhibition for the following year, open to
all comers.

This exhibition clearly demonstrated the work done by re-
ligious sisterhoods for the advancement and uplifting of the
Irish race. The lace-making industry has- been revived ; the
cottage industries of the Ursuline Nuns, Blackrock, Cork, are
training many girls in useful pursuits ; cooking classes are at-
tached to many convent schools that of Swinford, County
Mayo, doing excellent work. The first prize for wood-carving
was taken at the Connaught exhibition by a girl from the
Convent of Mercy schools, Carrick-on-Suir. One would scarcely
expect to see the prize for the best spun and woven linen
table-cloth go to Skibbereen, County Cork, but so it was. The
convent schools of Ballaghadereen, County Mayo, Athlone, Cas-
tlebar ; Kinsale and Doneraile, County Cork, Queenstown, and
Carrick-on-Suir, carried off many prizes. Altogether the indus-
trial outlook for Ireland seems to be a bright one, thanks to
the noble, devoted women who are teaching her people to pro-
fitably use the hands and exercise the brains so long benumbed
by an enforced idleness.

Much is written of the " new woman," much fear expressed
that she is bent on copying the old man ! Dear readers, there
is no such thing as a new woman ; she is just the same one
you have known all along since she first sang you to rest. It
is her sphere that has become enlarged, and in it she moves
still tender, loving, gentle, and sympathetic, whether God's will
calls her to preside over house and family as queen and mother,
to nursing in the hospital ward, teaching in the convent school,
or doing as Mrs. Morrogh Bernard has done, reforming and up-
lifting a people by means of technical education and good
example.

1897-] "SAM SLICK' AND CATHOLIC DISABILITIES. 459

"SAM SLICK" AND CATHOLIC DISABILITIES IN

NOVA SCOTIA.

BY MARY P. F. CHISHOLM.

'HE one hundredth anniversary of the birth of
Thomas Chandler Haliburton which occurred
on December 17, 1896 is an event which his
Canadian admirers cannot permit to pass by
without some adequate manifestation of their
regard. Haliburton is, by common consent, the greatest liter-
ary man yet produced in the Canadian provinces, and by
his literary work he established a considerable claim upon
the attention of the world. He was, besides, the first to write
a history of the ancient colony of Nova Scotia. For a few
years he was a forceful member of the legislature, and for
over a quarter .of a century he graced the judicial bench of
his native country. On the memory and gratitude of Roman
Catholics, however, he has an especial claim, as we shall en-
deavor to show, for the part he took in the movement to abol-
ish the test oaths.

KINSHIP WITH SIR WALTER SCOTT.

Mr. Haliburton was born at Windsor, N. S., the seat of
the Episcopal university known as King's College. He was the
descendant of an old Scottish family of kin with that of Sir
Walter Scott. After completing his studies at King's College
he studied law, and was called to the bar in 1820. Six years
later his public career began, for in 1826 he was elected to
represent the old and historic township of Annapolis in the
Assembly of Nova Scotia, and he remained in the Assembly
until 1829, when he was called to the bench. In 1856 he re-
signed his seat on the bench, and removed to England, where
he died in 1865. He sat for six years in the British House
of Commons.

ORIGIN OF " SOFT SAWDER."

It was in 1835 that Judge Haliburton began the publication
of the "Sam Slick" sketches in a local journal, and from that
time forward his pen was ever busy. It is alleged that his cen-

460 "SAM SLICK' AND CATHOLIC DISABILITIES. [Jan.,

tral character, Sam Slick, was suggested by the incidents of a
trial before him in which one of the parties was a sharp-witted
Yankee clock-peddler, who employed "soft sawder' -a phrase
we owe to Haliburton with much advantage in his business
dealings with the Nova Scotia farmers. The sketches soon ac-
quired popularity, not merely on account of their inimitable
humor, but also by reason of the keen common sense which
pervaded them. Haliburton was an admirable raconteur, with
a wide knowledge of human character, and he was quick to
seize the humorous side of things. The claim is made for him
-and it does not seem extravagant that he was the father of
American humor. F. Blake Crofton, author of The Major's Big
Talk Stories, in his valuable lecture on Haliburton, recently re-
published in the Halifax Herald, says : " Not only have modern
funny men taken hints from Haliburton, but modern journalists
have appropriated his anecdotes holus-bolus or with variations."
But it is not for their humor alone that the works of Halibur-
ton deserve study. The political institutions of his country
were at the time in a formative state, and the genial judge
seized the opportunity to present his views on a number of
public questions which were engaging contemporary attention.
After an interval of half a century the development of events
has vindicated his judgment on many of these subjects.
Throughout his books there is a strong imperial note ; and im-
perial federation, as now advocated by Lord Roseberry, had
an earlier advocate in Haliburton. He even forestalled .in its
details the present scheme of " a customs union ' between the
British colonies.

OPPOSED TO THE ACADIAN DEPORTATIONS.

He was a man of strong convictions, and he was fearless
in expressing them. In his history of Nova Scotia he was not
afraid to take the unpopular view, when he condemned the de-
portation of the Acadian settlers in 1755 a cruel measure
which the official class have ever since deemed it their duty to
defend. A conservative by training and education, he was as
stout an opponent of the abuse which sought reprieve on the
ground that it was old, as he was of the "reform' which made
only for innovation. His opinion of the colonial bishops of his
church, who were sent to the colony by the home government,
was deftly expressed in a few sentences : " They have one good
object in view from the moment of their landing in the col-
ony ; and that is the erection of a cathedral so large as to con-

1897.] "SAM SLICK" AND CATHOLIC DISABILITIES. 461

tain all the churchmen in the province, and so expensive as to
exhaust all the liberality of their friends; and this unfinished
monument of their ill-directed zeal they are sure to place in a
situation where it can be of no use whatever."

A CATHOLIC EMANCIPATOR.

As already intimated, he took part in the struggle for the
emancipation of his Catholic fellow-colonists. As was the case
in most of the other colonies of England, in Nova Scotia in
the early days the Roman Catholic was no favorite. The Eng-
lish settlers not merely brought to their new homes the preju-
dices against Roman Catholics which prevailed in the old land,
and from the operation of which Catholics had to endure social
proscription, but they lost no time in enacting obnoxious ordi-
nances by which Catholics were deprived of the simplest poli-
tical rights. A glance at the early legislation of the colony
will reveal statute after statute aimed at the suppression of
the Catholic religion; for instance, in 1758 an act was passed
declaring that " no papist ' should have any right or title to
hold or enjoy lands, except by grant direct from the crown,
and that conveyances by deed or will to a "papist* should
be null and void. It was also enacted that a priest exercising
his sacred functions within the province should be liable to
banishment. One by one, however, with the growing intelli-
gence of public opinion in the colony, these obnoxious laws
were repealed, until, in 1827, the abolition of the test oaths
struck down the last relic of the penal laws against the Cath-
olics.

AN IMITATOR OF O'CONNELL.

.... ' A

Nevertheless the struggle for political freedom was neithef
a short nor an easy one ; in the fierce fight of parties the
question of justice to the Catholics was often relegated to the
background. When the island of Cape Breton was reannexed
to Nova Scotia, in 1820, it became necessary to secure the
representation of that island in the Assembly. Accordingly, by
proclamation dated October 9, 1820, the governor, Sir James
Kempt, directed the holding of an election for two members
for Cape Breton. The election was at once held, and resulted
in the return of R. J. Uniacke, Jr., and Lawrence Kavanagh,
the latter a Roman Catholic. It does not appear that Mr.
Kavanagh attempted to take his seat until the session of
February, 1822, when he agreed to .take the state oath, but
VOL. LXIV. 30

462 "SAM SLICK* AND CATHOLIC DISABILITIES. [Jan.,

refused to take the declaration against transubstantiation.
Then followed resolutions in the house, and conferences be-
tween the two chambers, which culminated in the presentation
of a message to the house by the governor in the session of
1823 in which he stated that he had communicated with the
home authorities and had received from the secretary of state
the king's authority to admit Mr. Kavanagh without subscrib-
ing to the part of the oath to which objection was made. The
result was that Mr. Kavanagh was admitted, but the law was
still in force so far as his Catholic fellow-citizens were con-
cerned.

HALIBURTON'S GREAT SPEECH.

The matter of admitting the Catholics to full political rights
slumbered until in February, 1827, the petition of the Rev.
John Carroll and others was presented to the Assembly, pray-
ing for the removal of all the tests. After the petition was pre-
sented, a resolution was proposed for the appointment of a
committee to prepare an address to the king requesting his
majesty to dispense with the " declarations and test oaths
against popery." This resolution was moved by Mr. Uniacke,
who spoke with great vigor, and it was seconded by Mr.
Haliburton in an address of which Mr. Murdoch, the historian
of Nova Scotia, spoke as the finest piece of declamation he had
ever heard. There is a tradition that Joseph Howe, the
Canadian statesman, was doing duty at the reporters' table,
and he was so captivated by the speech that he had to lay
down his pen. A few extracts from a summary of the speech
which has been preserved may be of interest :

" In considering this question he should set out with stating
that every man had a right to participate in the civil govern-
ment of that country of which he was a member without the
imposition of any test oath, unless such restriction was neces-
sary to the safety of that government ; and if that was con-
ceded, it would follow that these tests should be removed from
the Catholics unless their necessity could be proved in respect
of that body. He stated that the religion which they profess
was called Catholic because it was at one time the universal
religion of the Christian world, and that the Bishop of Rome,
from being the spiritual head of it, was called Pope, which
signified father. Then, after tracing the origin and history of
the temporal power to the time of Henry VIII., he said that
in subsequent times it had been thought necessary to impose

I897-] " SAM SLICK' AND CATHOLIC DISABILITIES. 463

test oaths, lest the Catholics, who were the most numerous
body, might restore the ancient order of things, and particu-
larly as there was danger of a Catholic succession ; but when the
Stuart race became extinct, the test oaths should have been
buried with the last of that unfortunate family. Whatever
might be the effect of emancipation in Great Britain, here
there was not the slightest pretension for continuing restrictions ;
for if the whole house and all the council were Catholics, it
would be impossible to alter the constitution. The governor
was appointed by the king and not by the people, and no act
could pass without his consent. What was the reason that
Protestants and Catholics in this country mingled in the same
social circle and lived in such perfect harmony? How was it
that the Catholic mourned his Protestant friend in death whom
he had loved in life ; put his hand to the bier, followed his
mortal remains to their last abode and mingled his tears with
the dust that covered him, while in Great Britain there was
evident hostility of feeling ? The cause must be sought
in something beyond the mere difference of religion ? The
state of Ireland afforded a most melancholy spectacle ; the
Catholic, while he was bound in duty, while he was led by
inclination, to support his priest, was compelled by law to
pay tithes to the Protestant rector ; there were churches
without congregations, pastors without flocks, and bishops
with immense revenues without any duty to perform ; they
must be something more or less than men to bear all this
unmoved they felt and they murmured ; while, on the other
hand, the Protestants kept up an incessant clamor against
them that they were a bad people. The property of the
Catholic Church had passed into the hands of the Protestant
clergy the glebes, the tithes, the domains of the monasteries.
Who could behold those monasteries, still venerable in their
ruins, without regret ? The abodes of science, of charity and
hospitality, where the way-worn pilgrim and the weary travel-
ler reposed their limbs and partook of the hospitable cheer;
where the poor received their daily food, and in the gratitude
of their hearts implored blessings on the good and pious men
who fed them ; where Learning held its court and Science
waved its torch amid the gloom of barbarity and ignorance.

" Allow me, Mr. Speaker, to stray, as I have often done in
years gone by, for hours and for days amidst those ruins, and
tell me (for you too have paused to view the desolate scene),
did you not, as you passed through those tesselated courts and

464 " SAM SLICK' AND CATHOLIC DISABILITIES. [Jan.,

grass-grown pavements, catch the faint sounds of the slow and
solemn march of the holy procession ? Did you not seem to
hear the evening chime fling its soft and melancholy music
o'er the still sequestered vale, or hear the seraph choir pour
its full tide of song through the long-protracted aisle, or along
the high and arched roof? Did not the mouldering column,
the gothic arch, the riven wall and the ivied turret, while they
drew the unbidden sigh at the work of the spoiler, claim the
tribute of a tear to the memory of the great and good men
who founded them ?

" It is said that Catholics were unfriendly to civil liberty ;
but that, like many other aspersions cast upon them, was false.
Who created Magna Charta? Who established judges, trial by
jury, magistrates and sheriffs ? Catholics ! To that calumni-
ated people we were indebted for all that we most boasted of.
Were they not brave and loyal ? Ask the verdant sods of
Chrysler's farm ; ask Chateauguay ; ask Queenstown Heights, and
they will tell you they cover Catholic valor and Catholic loyal-
ty the heroes who fell in the cause of their country! Here
there was no cause of division, no property in dispute their
feelings had full scope. We found them good subjects and
good friends. Friendship was natural to the heart of man ; it
was like the ivy that seeks the oak and clings to its stalk, and
embraces its stem and encircles its limbs in beautiful festoons
and wild luxuriance, and aspires to its top and waves its ten-
drils above it as a banner, in triumph of having conquered the
king of the forest.

" Look at the township of Clare ; it was a beautiful sight :
a whole people having the same customs, speaking the same
language, and uniting in the same religion. It was a sight
worthy the admiration of men and the approbation of God.
Look at their worthy pastor, the Abbe Segogne ; see him at
sunrise, with his little flock around him, returning thanks to
the Giver of all good things; follow him to the bed of sick-
ness see him pouring the balm of consolation into the wounds
of the afflicted ; into his field, where he was setting an exam-
ple of industry to his people ; into his closet, where he was
instructing the innocence of youth ; into his chapel, and you
would see the savage, rushing from the wilderness with all his
wild and ungovernable passions upon him, standing subdued
and awed in the presence of the holy man ! You would hear
the abbe tell the savage to discern God in the stillness and
solitude of the forest, in the roar of the cataract, in the order

1 897.] " SAM SLICK' AND CATHOLIC DISABILITIES. 465

and splendor of the planetary system, and in the diurnal change
of night and day. That savage forgets not to thank his God
that the white man has taught him the light of revelation in
the dialect of the Indian."

After giving a detailed account of the expulsion of the
French Acadians, in 1755, Mr. Haliburton said that he did not
ask for the removal of the restrictions as a favor ; he would
not accept it from their commiseration ; he demanded it from
their justice. " Every man who lays his hand on the New Tes-
tament and says that is his book of faith, whether he be Catho-
lic or Protestant, churchman or dissenter, Baptist or Methodist,
however much we may differ in doctrinal points, he is my bro-
ther and I embrace him. We all travel by different roads to
the same God. In that path which I pursue should I meet
a Catholic I salute him, I journey with him, and when we
shall arrive at the flammantia limina miindi when that time
shall come, as come it must, when the tongue that now speaks
shall moulder and decay, when the lungs that now breathe the
genial air of heaven shall refuse me their office, when these
earthly vestments shall sink into the bosom of their mother
earth and be ready to mingle with the clods of the valley, I
will, with that Catholic, take a longing, lingering, retrospective
view. I will kneel with him ; and instead of saying, in the
words of the presumptuous Pharisee, ' Thank God, I am not like
that papist/ I will pray that, as kindred, we may be equally
forgiven ; that as brothers we may be both received ! '

The resolution was unanimously adopted; a statute was
passed repealing the laws obnoxious to Catholics, and the bat-
tle of " Catholic emancipation ' was fought and won in the
little colony of Nova Scotia earlier than in the mother-land.

On the centennial of Judge Haliburton's birth his friends
and admirers will most likely dwell upon his achievements as
a literary man ; he certainly is the most famous of Canadian
writers, and ranks deservedly high among the humorists of our
language. But he has a special claim upon the memory of
Catholics, and they should not forget that the genial and cul-
tivated author Protestant and Tory as he was when their
friends were less numerous than they are now, pleaded elo-
quently for the rights which they have ever since enjoyed.

HIDDEN LIGHTS.

BY JESSIE WILLIS BRODHEAD.

HE distant glory of the azure skies

Is muffled in gray fleece of downy snow,
Whose penetrating shadows, hanging low,
Dome the still world with myriad crystal eyes.
Upon the lustrous land there is not lined
The faintest wreath of shade. Each crevice holds
Its subtle light, whose tender glow unfolds
The shadow-threads the busy Sun-god twined.

Thus, groping soul, the concentrated woes
Of life, which fall upon thee thick and fast,
Contain a spiritual light to cast
Within the aching wounds thy days unclose.
Suffer the seeming shades, wouldst solace win,
For fallen shadow turns to light within.

1897-] STUDYING LANGUAGES AND THEIR MONUMENTS. 467

THE NECESSITY OF STUDYING LANGUAGES AND

THEIR MONUMENTS.

BY MGR. CHARLES DE HARLEZ.

O one in our day ignores the importance of ex-
haustive studies in philosophy, history, and the
natural sciences. We are all aware of the part
they play in the discussion of those religious
problems which have now become common
property, and which are but too frequently handled with
levity and in behalf of a theory. The general public is inter-
ested likewise, and not only the reviews but the Catholic con-
gresses abound in works relating to these sciences. There is a
great advantage in this, and one which our young students
cannot be too heartily encouraged to pursue with ardor.

But there is a fourth branch of the sciences whose bearing,
from the religious point of view, is unhappily not suitably ap-
preciated, nor its action in the world sufficiently recognized.
I refer to the science of languages and their monuments, a
science too much neglected, and yet one whose importance
may not be slighted, since these monuments contain that reli-
gious history of humanity which is to-day chiefly employed in
judging the dogmas and achievements of Christianity.

I venture to say without hesitation that the gravest ques-
tions relating 4 to religious beliefs are settled, both in the
scientific world and among the unlearned, by means of what is
called The Science of Religions. The vulgar demolishers of
religion seek their chosen weapons in its armory, believing that
by its aid they will best succeed in carrying out the pro-
gramme laid down with such energetic brevity by E. Quinet in
the words : " Stifle Christianity in mire."

In reality the materialism, the atheism to which tend the
final efforts of certain philosophers and naturalists, the doctrine
which abases man to the level of the beast and opens the
door to the most brutal passions, is not relished by all of
those who have abjured faith altogether. It alarms many,
especially when they see it spreading among the people. Nor,
for that matter, do the defections begin at this point ; the
books of the teachers of irreligion or determined anti-Christian-
ity do not open with an effort to disseminate this doctrine

468 STUD YING LANGUAGES A ND THEIR MON UMEN TS. [Jan.,

among the masses. More adroit, they know they have suffi-
ciently attained their object when they have taught their dis-
ciples to despise Christian beliefs, dragged daily through the
mud as they are by a cunning press which pretends to speak
simply in behalf of science.

THE MATERIALISTS FIND RELIGION RESPECTABLE.

Moreover, even materialism permits the evangelic doctrine
to be considered as a noble effort of the human soul to rise
above itself in search of a nature and destiny which may be
desirable, although founded on chimeras. As was said by
Francisque Sarcey after visiting the lodges of Ghent : " The
free-thinkers of France were still accustomed, in spite of
everything, to follow the principle, * Respect what is respect-
able in itself.' He had learned at the Ghent lodge to nourish
in his soul a vigorous hatred of the degrading superstitions
which compose the Catholic creed and worship, and to translate
the disposition into act by seeking the degradation of Chris-
tianity, destined thenceforth to be " stifled in mire." Christi-
anity might still be a fair and noble phantom to the materi-
alist ; to the school to which we now refer, and to their adepts,
it is merely a corpse in process of decomposition.

We have already remarked that these sentiments, which
leave the mind no room for choice, are chiefly propagated by
means of studies in the comparative history of religions-
Oriental religions above all. It is in virtue of discoveries
made in this vast domain that men believe themselves author-
ized to relegate Christianity to a place among the least re-
spectable of human inventions and detach the minds and hearts
of men from it for ever. They have two principal modes by
which to arrive at this conclusion.

THE MODE OF DISCREDITING RELIGION.

First, by seeking to establish, through a vast system of
comparisons, that every religion is a mere product of the
human mind, a natural, spontaneous product excluding all
action or intervention of a superior cause. According to this
system, religion is self-unfolded by virtue of the natural princi-
ple of evolution, which, producing it at first under the gross
rudiments of the adoration of brute matter, elevates it succes-
sively and inevitably through the various stages of animism,
polytheism, psnotheism, and, lastly, monotheism. Christianity
has its place in this evolution like every other doctrine, and not
among the best of them.

Sscondly and this is what they are really aiming at by

1 897.] STUDYING LANGUAGES AND THEIR MONUMENTS. 469

attempting to demonstrate that Christianity, especially in the
form of Catholicity, is simply an eclectic system derived from
the pagan religions of the East, which not only combines all
their most absurd characteristics, but owes to them, beyond
all doubt, the few seemly and decorous things which it inculcates.
Judaism and Catholicism came into the world like all other
cults, and take rank among the most bizarre and least elevated.
They do not hesitate to proclaim their regret for paganism, or
to assert their preference for Buddhism and Mohammedanism
as compared with "the myths and polytheism of Catholicity."
This contempt and hatred for Christianity is everywhere
excited by the lodges, not merely on the pretext that it does
not respond to the exigences of modern science, or even be-
cause history allows certain reproaches to be addressed to
Catholics, to bishops, and even to the Sovereign Pontiffs, but as
being hateful and despicable in itself while claiming to enthrall
souls ; the only claim they allow it is to be included in the
mass of superstitions which have dishonored humanity for
ages. They accuse God himself, and publicly teach that the
anti-scientific natures and the barbarity of Jehovah, Baal, and
Moloch, for example, make them of equal worth.

HOW FALSEHOOD IS DISSEMINATED.

Nor is all this confined to the upper regions of a certain
learned world. As Fontaine has very justly remarked in the
Origines du Christianisme : " The lessons descending from the
professorial chairs supply a goodly number of reviews. Vulgar
and mercenary authors undertake, by means of numerous
journals, to introduce them into the great intellectual circula-
tion of the country, which they thoroughly pervade. We find
them anew even on the lips of men who do not know their
origin." These lessons are demanded for lyceums and literary
institutions, and even for schools ; and meanwhile means are
sought whereby to make them reach the masses. In France
especially, the lodges spread the works of Jacolliot and other
scoffers at Christianity broadcast, although they are fully aware
of the audacious falsehoods they contain. A numerous host is
at their service for this labor.

These outrageous comparisons and reconciliations, which
cause even the masses to lose respect for the most respectable
things, are propagated not merely by the reviews, whether
popular or literary, but likewise by the daily papers. Histori-
cal works intended for the use of young people are written
with a like end in view.

4/O STUDYING LANGUAGES AND THEIR MONUMENTS. [Jan.,

SOME HONEST UNBELIEVERS.

It is true, and I am bound clearly to recognize the fact,
that a great number of scientific men, educated in different
ideas from ours, arrive without malice or premeditated bias at
conclusions adverse to Christianity. It is the sincere desire of
many among them to seek truth impartially and to seek noth-
ing else. The teachings of such men carry still more weight
on this account, and demand our most serious attention pre-
cisely because their science gives them an incontestable
authority which turns to the advantage of those who mis-
employ the instruction they impart. For there are such men
also, and naturally they are the most attended to. Thus,
while certain members of the free-thought party content
themselves with echoing the remark, made in a great English
University, that "when one has the honor to belong to a cult
so elevated as that of Zoroaster he does not become a Chris-
tian," many others, and especially those who labor in
subordinate positions, go on to teach children, for example,
that the God of the Bible is the ancient divinity of thunder or
of fire ; a personage, moreover, whose jealousy, cruel instincts,
and vindictive character make him unworthy of respect ; a
chieftain truly worthy of the exterminating hordes who filled
the land of Chanaan with blood and ruins ; that, in fine, the
Bible is merely a pale copy of the sacred books of India ; that
Christ learned everything from Buddhism ; that the Virgin
Mother of God is but a Hindoo, Chinese, or Mexican myth.
How are these ends arrived at ? Whence do serious and
respectable scientific men derive their unfavorable conclusions ?
Whence do the vulgar destroyers of religion draw the facts
and arguments which enable them to confound the faith of
Christ with pagan beliefs in such a fashion? Needless to
reply that it is from the historic and religious books of
peoples, of Oriental peoples above all, and chiefly from the
monuments of Oriental languages. And what lends such
authority to the affirmations of both parties is, that they first
come before their readers or hearers surrounded by the halo of
incontestable science, while the "popularizers ' not only repeat
these instructions in their own peculiar manner, but add to
them a host of things which the masters would unhesitatingly
repudiate, profiting none the less by the renown, and sharing
in the authority, from which they borrow. The first really
possess this authority, because they have given proof of their
profound knowledge of the languages and peoples from whom

1897-] STUDYING LANGUAGES AND THEIR MONUMENTS. 471

these monuments have descended. From the scientific point of
view their word is law.

But I must not confine myself to generalities like these,
which do not suffice to produce conviction. I must lay the
facts themselves before my readers. To do so I must briefly
survey the various fields of religious controversy, pointing out
the special character of each and the weapons which it fur-
nishes for either direct or indirect warfare against Christianity.

VULGARIZING OF SACRED PERSONAGES.

Naturally, we must turn our attention to the Bible first of
all. What has not been done with this sacred book ? To
what distortions has it not been subjected ? Genesis is no
longer more than a tissue of fables borrowed from pagan races
and presented under a form still more absurd than that of the
original monuments. The people of Abraham and Moses are
only a barbarous horde of votaries of the grossest polytheism ;
the tables of the law are simply a stone fetich; the Spirit of
God, brooding over the face of the waters, is the Spouse of
Jehovah, the Juno of Israel. There is hardly a single book of
the Bible which dates from the period to which it is ascribed;
the Pentateuch itself was written after the Babylonian
captivity and is nothing but a priestly fraud. The prophetic
books are Babylonian lucubrations, etc., etc.

All these assertions are based on arguments drawn from
philology, history, archaeology, and hierography arguments
which display immense science so far as facts are concerned,
and which no't infrequently err solely through a want of logic
which I shall call external, since it does not detract directly
from the value of the special information given.

THE ASSYRIAN SCHOOL OF CRITICS.

If we turn from the Bible to the profane world, we come
face to face at first with Assyriology and Egyptology, the
relation of which to the Biblical sciences is very close; the data
furnished by the cuneiform texts of Babylon and Assyria has
made it seem possible to give a death-blow to the authority of
the historical books of the Bible, on account of the contradic-
tions students have succeeded in establishing between the
assertions of Babylonian or Assyrian monarchs and those of
the Biblical historians. Moreover, by means of the resusci-
tated beliefs of these ancient peoples, they claim to demonstrate
that the teachings of Genesis are simply the echoes of fables
invented on the borders of the Euphrates or the Tigris.

STUD YING LANGUAGES A ND THEIR MON UMEN TS. [Jan.,

For example, the histories of the creation in determinate
periods, of the fall of the first human pair, of the deluge and
its various catastrophes, turn out to have counterparts among
the religious monuments of the Chaldees ; hence it has been
concluded that all are alike purely mythical, and that none of
them merit any credence.

VALUE OF EGYPTIAN AND COPTIC LITERATURE.

Egyptology plays a part not less important in the judgment
they pass on the veracity of the Scriptural books. The histo-
ries of Joseph and the family of Jacob, the Israelitish people,
Moses and the Exodus, to limit ourselves to these special points,
receive from the old hieroglyphic texts either a solemn contra-
diction or an undeniable confirmation accordingly as these texts
serve to compare the history of the kings of Israel, in what
concerns their relations with the sovereigns of Egypt, with the
documents left by the dynasties that reigned successively on
the banks of the Nile. There is not less utility in Egyptologi-
cal studies in many other cases which it would take too long
to enumerate ; we note only one in passing, but it is one which
is now among the most important : the exact knowledge of the
language, customs, and geography of Egypt which is shown in
Exodus and Leviticus may serve to demonstrate that these
books, and the Pentateuch in general, could not have been
written a long time after the events therein related, still less
after the return from exile, in the sixth or fifth century before
our era.

A knowledge of Coptic enables us, among other things, to
discuss the life of those solitaries, the founders of monastic
life, whom men are now seeking to cover with opprobrium.
Nor is the study of Syriac without great advantages, although
its productions are late and belong exclusively to Christianity.
The works of the Syriac fathers and writers are of great im-
portance in discussions with believing Protestants, because
they certify to the doctrines taught in the first centuries of
Christianity. Moreover, by their lofty poetry which kindles the
soul to piety, and by those histories of the sufferings of martyrs
which rekindle faith and arouse to noble deeds, they form one
of the most beautiful pages of Christian literature.

THE CLAIM OF CLASSIC PAGANISM.

I will not speak of the monuments of Greece and Rome,
for they are too well known to make it necessary. Although
they play a lesser part in the attacks made on the citadel of

1 89 7 ] STUD YING LA NG UA GES A ND THEIR MON UMEN TS. 473

the church, they still contribute somewhat toward the edifice
of religious evolutionism, to the transformation of Christian
beliefs into fallacious myths, to the abasement of these beliefs to
the level of the most degraded pagan cults. One Mr. C. Andre,
for example, will inform you that far from being able to de-
ride the adventures of Jupiter, Apollo, and Mars, Christians
should blush at their own far inferior fables ; that their Holy
Spirit becoming a pigeon or tongues of fire, to cite only that,,
is far from surpassing the doves of Venus and the fire of Agni ;.
that they adore the new fire on Holy Saturday just like the.
Hindoos or the priests of ancient Rome, etc.

THE VAST AND VAGUE ORIENT.

We pass by these too-well-known matters to, say a few
words concerning Persia, India, and China.

If one consults the non-Catholic Iranists, many of them will
say that the greater part of the beliefs of the people of God
were borrowed from Zoroaster and the Avesta. If the Jews
are monotheists, they owe it to the knowledge of Ahura Mazda
which they gained during the Babylonian captivity. If they
believe in the spirituality of the soul and its immortality, in a,
future retribution, and especially in the punishment of faults:
committed in this life, it is to Zoroaster they owe it. If they
have expected a messias, redeemer, and mediator, it is because/
they had learned to know both Soshyant, the restorer of the;
reign of justice after the end of the present world, and Mith-,
ra, the, mediator between the good and evil spirits who dis-
pute for the possession of man's soul as it leaves this life. I
pass over a host of minor details. ,

India is none the less advantageously exploited in its three
great phases : Vedaic, Brahminic, and Buddhistic. From the
Vedas are drawn arguments for and against religious evolutions;,
its deities are compared with the God adored and the celestial,
personages venerated by Christians; ceremonies are compared
and a pagan physiognomy given to Catholic worship.

Brahminism is praised as having produced a civilization su-
perior to that resulting from Christianity. None of us has for-
gotten how this thesis was supported by one of our compatri-
ots on his return from a voyage to the Indies, where, never-
theless, he had seen the deplorable effects of the civilization
which he held up as our model. . . . Nor was his an iso-
lated voice ; he but echoed what is said everywhere with that
assurance which gives to assertions the appearance of truth.
It is in India, too, that we discover anew the solar and other

474 STUD YING LA NG u AGES A ND THEIR MON UMEN TS. [Jan.,

myths which, according to this system, gave birth to those with
which our infancy was cherished by the Bible, and there at
least, they tell us, we shall see them in all their beauty, sim-
plicity, and veritable significance.

THE BUDDHA LEGEND.

In India, likewise, we shall find Krishna and Buddha, "whose
legends have produced those of Christ, with all their details ; whose
doctrines have inspired the founders of Christianity ; whose cult has
engendered their cult" and in whose doctrines they will point
out to us the beliefs of the Christian world, but "in a form
much purer and far more rational" For, say they, the contami-
nated hand of Christian polytheism has degraded all that it
has touched. They even go so far as to present Buddhism as
the ideal religion. A professor of the new Sorbonne has boasted
in his chair that he has greatly surpassed the Christ. Jesus
had been able to attract none but sinners and common people,
while he has converted men of the highest intelligence to the
faith of Sakyamuni, and that with the greatest ease.

While the religious annals of India present so many ques-
tions of the highest importance to all who are not blindly ap-
proaching their final destination, those of China have been em-
ployed in a corresponding sense. They are even more impor-
tant than any others for consolidating or defeating the evolu-
tionary system. Hence there is no need for surprise that an
effort has been made to represent its beginnings as purely ani-
mist, or even as reproducing the gross charlatanries of Sha-
manism. By this trick they sweep out of sight a fact whose
very existence was an impediment to the triumph of the doc-
trine of development, of necessary and continuous progression.
This is why the primitive Chinese religion is anything one
chooses : pure monotheism, animism, gross polytheism, sorcery,
according to the author who is studying it and who is seeking
the confirmation of his own ideas rather than simple truth.

A DUTCH DEFAMER.

How the religion of China has been employed to abase
Christianity I will show by certain extracts from a book which
has made a great stir, and which, from the linguistic point of
view, merits to be considered authoritative. I refer to the
Annual Festivals celebrated at Amoy* described by M. De Grout,
consul of Holland in the Middle Empire. This work was first

* Fetes Annuelles celebrees a Emoui.

1 89 7 ] STUD YING LA NG u AGES A ND THEIR MON UMEN TS. 475

published in Dutch, and then in a French translation in M.
Guimet's Annals.

To reproduce all that is insulting to Christianity in this
book would be impossible. I shall confine myself to the sev-
eral examples which follow :

The Chinese venerate a sort of goddess of bounty, who is
represented as holding a child between her arms, because she
is supposed to protect mothers and births. She is presented
to us as the Chinese equivalent for Divine Grace, the type of
the Virgin Mary holding the Child Jesus ; this is the source of
the Christian Myth. A long and rather ridiculous ceremony
performed by the Taoist priests is represented as the Taoist
Mass ; the image of Buddha carried in procession is the Holy
of Holies.

" The Catholic Church has its own materialism, which hardly
yields to that of the sectaries of Tao, . . . and its usages
retain numerous traces of the worship of nature ; it has, more-
over, created for itself a whole world of gods and goddesses
who, under the name of saints, are charged with watching
over the material needs of those who invoke them. It has its

god of war in St. George ; its protecting goddess of death in
St. Barbara, and patrons of towns and villages who resemble
the Chinese deities of the Wall and the Ditches. The Chinese
have greatly the advantage over Christians, because their literati
have understood that it is shameful to have need of gods and
of priests in order to practise virtue. Chinese morality is greatly
superior to ours."

These and a thousand similar things are developed in a
manner calculated to convince careless or poorly-instructed
persons.

As a final trait I will note the manner in which this book,
like so many others, treats the august chief of Catholicity,
whether Pius IX. or Leo XIII.

THE DEGRADATIONS OF TAOISM.

The Taoist cult has ministers who may either live together,
separately, or in marriage, and who practise all professions.
Their chief functions are selling amulets, deceiving the public
by all sorts of trickeries and witchcraft, and practising exor-
cisms at every turn. They live in such a way that they are
despised even by those who have recourse to their talismans
and their prayers.

There is one among them who has acquired a superior au-
thority by means of the supernatural powers attributed to

476 STUDYING LANGUAGES AND THEIR MONUMENTS. [Jan.,

him ; he possesses, in fact, a sword which slays evil spirits, and
a talisman which disperses them. The first of the race gave
himself the title of Tien-the, or celestial teacher, a title which
was at first confirmed by the emperors and afterwards seized
in perpetuity. This personage, whose only function is to dis-
tribute charms and perform ridiculous exorcisms, who is desti-
tute of real authority over his equals, and whose condition we
have just pointed out, is repeatedly described as the Pope of
the Taoists His Holiness Pope Thang, who, flying one day
before some brigands whom he had exorcised in vain, is a per-
fect representation of Pius IX. flying to Gaeta after launching
from his feeble hand an excommunication equally powerless !

"The fabulous founders of the Taoist and the Christian pa-
pacies, Tao-ting and St. Peter, were contemporaries, according
to the legends. The momentary flight of the Master of Hea-
ven and that of the Pope of Rome took place not more than
six years apart ; each now sits upon a tottering throne, but
history will show us upon which one of the divine comedy of
two the curtain will descend the soonest." Such are the ideas
upon which all classes of society are now nourished, and the
sentiments with which they are inspired.

WIDE-SPREAD AREA OF THE NEW MOVEMENT.

The great countries we have just glanced at are doubtless
the chief seats of this warfare, but there is none whose religion
and civilization are authenticated by monuments which does
not furnish weapons for it. The ancient inhabitants of Ameri-
ca, Oceanica, and Africa are summoned, like those of Europe
and Asia, to play parts that are never unimportant. Theories
concerning the origin of man, the nature of his intelligence,
his soul, and the original unity of the human species are every-
where receiving light from philological monuments. And let
no one believe that the results of these teachings concerning
the evolutionary history of religions, these incessant compari-
sons of Christianity with pagan cults, are either unimportant
or not widely diffused. This is an error but too common, and
which is the cause of our apathy in the matter. We are too
much shut up in our own camp, and our knowledge of what
is going on beyond it is far from perfect. A moment's reflec-
tion should suffice to make us comprehend the effect necessari-
ly produced by teachings which are laid before young people
in the greater number of books and in the journals which meet
their eyes at every turn. And here I may be permitted a
personal souvenir.

1 897.] STUD TING LA NG UA GE s A ND THEIR MON UMEN TS. 47 7

Some years ago, after I had unveiled the frauds and falsi-
fication of texts practised by Jacolliot in the works wherein
he seeks to besmirch Christianity, and gained thereby the ap-
plause of impartial men of learning, there were many Catholics
who thought I had taken great pains to very little purpose,
since, in their view, a page or two of refutation would have
been amply sufficient. They did not know that my reason for
using my pen persistently in this cause was that I had been
encouraged on all hands to do so. F. Lenormand and many
other illustrious Frenchmen had urged me to expose these im-
postures. " This man has done so much harm already," said a
professor of the College of France to me. Advices reached
me from Ghent, Brussels, and Anvers of the fatally effectual
efforts made by the lodges to disseminate these writings. I
was congratulated even by the non-Catholic savants on the
appearance of my book, and applications for the right to
translate it reached me even from Brazil, Mexico, and the
island of Mauritius. At a later period a professor of the
University of Spain asked permission to make a new trans-
lation of it as an aid in combating a lawless propaganda.
Meanwhile, my dear co-religionists were saying that I had
wasted time on a matter not worth the trouble. Now, what
is the explanation of this verdict so lightly given ? Simply
that we Catholics ignore the importance of these studies be-
cause we have abandoned the ground they cover ; we know
little about the action they are exciting in the world, and,
thanks to this ignorance, we content ourselves with the least
assurances given us and go on believing that everything is for
the best in this best of worlds.

A MISTAKEN POLICY.

If this is true, and that it is so no one qualified by experi-
ence to judge can doubt, can we remain indifferent to studies
which are exciting so great an influence on minds? Is it not
our duty to participate actively in their prosecution ? Do we
not owe this to the truth first of all ? Can we permit it to be
distorted and displaced by error at will? Ought we not to
contest every step, so as to re-establish it where it has been
falsified and to reinstate all its rights ? Do we not owe this
to the world which is being led astray and deceived in what
concerns its most sacred interests? Do we not owe it to God
and to our consciences?

No answer is needed to these questions. But let us fully
understand and this is the essential point to which I desire to
VOL. LXIV. 31

4/8 STUDYING LANGUAGES AND THEIR MONUMENTS. [Jan.,

call attention that to have a smattering of science is not
enough to fit us for the part assigned to us in such discus-
sions. To know how to avoid gross errors is something,
doubtless, but it is not enough. We must be " masters of
science/' Though we cannot all become such, yet some we
must have in every department of human knowledge. We
need them for the honor of our faith, which we must not suf-
fer to be esteemed a religion for the ignorant, among whom
adhesion to established verities destroys all scientific spirit.
We need them, also, for the sake of our young students, who
should be able to form themselves completely within our own
ranks, not forced to turn exclusively to others. What effect
must we not unavoidably produce on those who wish to inform
themselves thoroughly on any point whatever, when we lie
under the too frequent necessity of sending them to non-
Catholic masters whom we must point out to them as the sole
representatives of science ? Can we be astonished if the reli-
gious sentiment is lost under such conditions ? if singular
notion ! these studies appear actually incompatible with its
preservation? That is what has happened in certain places.

NECESSITY FOR ACTIVE INTERFERENCE IN SCIENTIFIC PURSUITS.

As I have said already, we owe it to God and to the truth
to put ourselves on the defensive, to crush at birth the errone-
ous systems by which truth is destroyed. That so many false
ideas have pervaded the world is largely our own fault because,
having deserted the field, we were not there in time to re-
establish true ones.

If we desire to have any weight or authority in the world,
if we want to have our utterances attended to, we must be
masters. For the world follows the masters of science and
those who are esteemed their heralds. We can no longer per-
mit the great discoveries to be made without our aid, and, by
consequence, to our detriment. We must take part in them
and content ourselves no longer with a place in the secondary
ranks, whence we speak without awakening an echo, and where
the most generous efforts must necessarily prove sterile.

Moreover, in the existing state of these discussions, it is
impossible to understand their nature and bearings, still less to
take a useful part in them, unless we too can recur to the
original sources, find the errors of the masters themselves, and
vindicate the truth unaided by men who, learned and loyal
though they may be, might yet lead us into error. Is it con-
eivable that we should longer remain in the position of men

1897-] STUDYING LANGUAGES AND THEIR MONUMENTS. 479

who must seek from their most determined adversaries the
means to defend their own convictions ?

Only at this price can we remain in the right road, avoid-
ing errors which are favorable to our beliefs as well as those
which are opposed to them. For it is truth alone that we
should seek in all things, and perfect sincerity is the most cer-
tain pledge of success. Too often our apologies either over-
shoot the mark or fall short of it because their authors have
not truly mastered the materials they must employ in con-
structing them.

A NOBLE INCENTIVE.

Further still, unless we are satisfied to toil in vain, we must
show the world that we are men of science and research, and not
mere apologists, for the latter character inspires- mistrust in our
days ; it causes people to suspect, though often mistakenly, a
disposition to travesty the truth. True, the point of this blade
might be turned against those who seek to wound us with it.
But that would neither result in victory nor induce better faith.

Then again, is it not better to occupy time in serious stud-
ies that develop all the mental faculties than in pleasures
which are unproductive even when innocent, and which but too
often impair both health and fortune. Directly scientific pre-
occupations, on the other hand, detract nothing from the lofti-
est aspirations of the heart.

Let us recognize, then, that it is our duty to resume in
linguistic studies the place we ought never to have resigned to
others ; that, masters and students alike, we must set ourselves
to the fulfilment of the noble mission confided to us. For
success will entail immense expenses, not only for these stud-
ies themselves, the formation and support of libraries, and for
scientific journeys, but also for the publication of works which,
as they address themselves to a limited number of readers,
must result in anything rather than profit to their authors.

Assuredly the task is difficult and ungrateful ; it has
drained the strength of many; but, if they feel themselves up-
held by those whose faith and honor they are maintaining
before the world of science, they will not lose their courage.

[Those who know the distinguished author of the foregoing treatise will not need any
assurance of its great importance as an authoritative statement. To those who are not already
aware of his high literary and scientific status it is well to say that he is a professor at Lou-
vain University and one of the foremost Orientalists of our time, and his fame is world-wide
among savants. He has made the highest records in the fields of Egyptology, Assyriology,
and the older eastern cults generally. As an archaeologist in these difficult and critical spheres
of research he has no living superior. But in the still more formidable and abstruse realm of
Chinese learning he has acquired a reputation as a master, occupying a position, indeed, al-
most unique for a European. EDITOR CATHOLIC WORLD.]

48o

GOOD COOKING vs. DRINKING.

[Jan.,

GOOD COOKING VS. DRINKING,* .

BY L. A. TOOMEY.

[GAINST the giant evil of intemperance, which is
working such havoc in the homes of to-day, no
means should be left untried that may stem its
destructive tide. There are many remedies sug-
gested, preventive and curative, and there are
many forces, religious, social, and political, at work against the
drink evil. Each of these may have its particular advantage or
application, according to varying conditions, but in a time like
the present, when the very foundation stone of our national
strength the American home is threatened by an insidious
foe, there should be unity among all workers for temperance

and the preservation of the home, and a readiness to accept
any means of driving back our common enemy.

I would like to call the attention of those who have given
time and study and earnest effort to the cause of temperance
to another phase of the subject, to which hitherto but little care
has been given ; and that is the importance of good cooking
and wholesome food as a factor in temperance work, as a pre-
ventive of the drink habit. Would that some zealous advocate
would go forth to preach this new temperance gospel and carry
it into the lives and into the homes of the land !

In France the scientific art of the preparation of food is
known as the " minor moralities," and the term is not misap-
plied, so important a part does food play, through the physical
being, upon the mind, temper, and moral proclivities.

Were this close relation of food to character and conduct
more fully realized, there would to-day be more happy firesides
and fewer physical and moral wrecks.

It is a sad commentary upon our modern educational sys-
tem that a subject which plays such an important part in the
moral and physical welfare of every human being, and affects
the health and happiness of the whole nation, should be ignored
as a branch of knowledge and relegated to the unskilled, un-
trained " help ' in the kitchen, whose work we designate as
" menial." Would that wives and mothers realized that in their

* Temperance Truths from Many Pens. 2 vols. Temperance Publication Bureau, 415
West 59th Street, New York.

The Temperance Cook Book. New York : The Werner Company.

1 897.] GOOD COOKING vs. DRINKING. 481

noble mission they could not do better service to God and human-
ity than in promulgating this new phase of temperance work!

It is a satisfaction to hear of the gradually increasing num-
ber of schools in which a scientific and practical course in cook-
ery, hygiene, and the nutritive value of foods is made a part
of the regular curriculum, as its importance is being recognized
as a necessary part of every woman's education, and a factor
in the welfare of the people.

In the days of our great-grandmothers a woman's education
consisted in a thorough training in cooking and the principal
household arts; in a word, all that helped to fit her to be a
careful, thrifty housewife and good home-keeper. Such " light
accomplishments ' as reading and writing were seldom added.

But, since the days when a conference of physicians was
held to investigate the mental soundness of a Massachusetts
woman because she proposed to open a college for girls, the
higher education of women has made such advance that to-day
the swing of the pendulum is to the opposite extreme and now
tends to exclude all that is technical or manual, and include
all that is literary, scientific, and professional, ignoring the fact
that the science of life and of physical well-being should be the
foundation study.

This question was recently put to an eighth-grade cookery
class: " What practical benefit will your lessons in cookery be
to you?' and among other answers one serious, pale-faced
little maid, of thirteen years gave it as her opinion that "if we
knew how to cook all sorts of nice things, and what kinds of
foods were * healthy ' and good, that the men and boys wouldn't
want to go out to saloons so much.".

Beneath the answer of this quaint little philosopher there
was more wisdom than she suspected. Possibly some sad home
experience of a drunken father or dissipated brother had taught
her a precocious lesson that had driven the color from her
cheeks and put the little quaver in the childish voice.

Would that our devoted housewives realized this fact: that
the natural reaction of the much-abused, long-suffering stomach,
overloaded with greasy, rich, unwholesome, or too highly sea-
soned food, is to an irritating thirst which leads naturally to the
saloon. Salt foods especially, highly-spiced dishes, corned
beef and cabbage, and similar foods create this thirst and dis-
turbance of the digestive organs which the use of alcoholic
stimulants temporarily alleviates and deadens. But the relief
is only temporary. The excited and overtaxed nerves demand

482 GOOD COOKING vs. DRINKING. [Jan.,

a renewal of the stimulant, the craving becomes stronger and
more imperative, until finally the will-power and moral faculties
are degraded in the physical appetite, and drink takes posses-
sion of the unfortunate man, and thus by degrees the drink-
habit becomes a fixed one.

In the schools where cookery has been .introduced the course
begins with an illustrated lecture on the various fuels, their
composition, cost, and comparative value. Then the cookery of
the different classes of foods is taken up in order. The teach-
er explains the composition of the food, its cost and relative
value as a nutrient ; its chief effect as a food ; its suitability to
age, health, occupation, climate, etc.; with what foods it should
be used in combination ; the chemical change made by the ap-
plication of heat ; the reason for each step in the cooking, etc.
A short course in invalid cookery and the care of a sick-room
is added, the pupils being encouraged to ask questions and to
bring in items of information.

During all the lessons the pupils are trained to do the ac-
companying housework, and they are well drilled in all kinds
of cleaning, scrubbing, washing, ironing, etc.

Great stress is laid upon the importance of the kitchen be-
ing kept fresh and bright and inviting as affecting the health
of the cook and the wholesomeness of the food prepared, and
upon the necessity that every part of the home, and more im-
portant still, the home-maker be always cheerful, wholesome,
and sunny.

"I believe," said a successful hotel-keeper, "that there are
spiritual elements in food as well as in the eater ; and that,
if prepared by ignorant, unthinking, unlovely hands, it may
mean disease for soul as well as body. It is certain that re-
construction must come for this whole business of living, and
part of it will lie in the real co-operation, as yet not under-
stood, the infusion of love and wisdom into a ch6sen and hon-
ored work."

Thoughtful men and women, who have at heart the pre-
servation of the home from the inroads of intemperance, re-
alize the importance of having a course of hygienic and prac-
tical cookery made a part of every school curriculum. If this
is demanded by the people, it will be done.

Nowhere is this instruction more needed than among the
very poor, where ignorance and extravagance go hand-in-hand
and are both cause and effect of poverty.

In almost every parish half a dozen charitable, capable wo-

1897.] A SINGER. 483

men might arrange for Saturday morning cookery classes to
reach just these homes. One lady might lend her -kitchen, and
a slight outlay would furnish the needed extra utensils and
materials. Each lady might select some staple food which she
is an expert at cooking. The lessons might thus be given in
plain, simple foods, interspersed with hints on neatness, econo-
my, hygiene, temperance, and the necessity of keeping the
homes bright and sweet and tidy, so that they shall be at-
tractive to tired fathers and brothers, with the result that they
will not want to go out to the saloons for recreation and pleas-
ant surroundings.

Thus there will be many useful hints, and practical facts
and hygienic ideas, as well as unconscious temperance lessons,
which the children will carry back to squalid homes, or firesides
made wretched and uninviting by ignorance of the most com-
mon laws of living.

Who can estimate the God-given help and uplifting influence
that will thus come to suffering mothers and over-burdened
fathers? for "a little child shall lead them."

A SINGER.

BY WALTER LECKY.

THE singer passed, unknown ;

His little snatch of song,
In care and grief long grown,

With time has run along.

Think not the singer dead.

His voice rings in each heart
Through which the song has sped :

Such is the singer's art.

484 POMPEII REBORN AND REGENERA TE. [Jan.,

POMPEII REBORN AND REGENERATE.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

HE fable of the Phoenix has been made a fact,
in a figurative sense, where the ruins of Pom-
peii tell us the story of polished Paganism as
it walked and feasted. A new city has risen
from its ashes, unlike the old one in its dimen-
sions, but more unlike it far in its spirit and origin. Old Pom-
peii was a place of luxury. There the millionaire exquisites of
ancient Rome used to spend a good deal of their time feast-
ing, gambling, and gratifying every appetite to the full. If it
experienced at length the fate of the Cities of the Plain, there
is good reason to believe that its turpitude was not a whit
less heinous. The new Pompeii is famous for its purity, its
devotion, its marks of Divine grace. The magic power which
caused it to spring into existence, above the very tomb of an-
nihilated vice, was devotion to the blessed Mother of God.
Special manifestations of her favor to her clients in the Rosary
caused a shrine to be erected in her honor whose beauty and
fame have earned for it the title of the Lourdes of Italy.

How New Pompeii sprang into existence is a story of con-
version in more senses than one. It is linked with the conver-
sion of a man of the world into a most zealous Catholic ; and
the conversion of a locality which had been the haunt of
brigands and vile wretches of the worst kind into a place of
peace, order, industry, and beauty. It is a wonderful story, in
the additional proof it gives of the working of supernatural
grace on the seemingly most unpromising soil. It differs strik-
ingly from the story of the origin of Lourdes, but there are
features about it which seem quite as wonderful, and quite as
inexplicable to minds which judge all human happenings by
the tests of logic, science, or what is generally understood by
the phrase common sense, as those which have signalized the
Pyrennian shrine. The name of the place was the Valle di
Pompeii, and the owner was a noble lady, the Contessa Fusco.
Her agent for the collection of the rents was a Neapolitan
advocate, Signer Bartolo Longo. There are many wicked and
dangerous places in the environs of Italian cities, but the
desolation, squalor, and God-forsaken air of this place seemed
to him to mark the spot as a sort of snake-hole for human

1897.]

POMPEII REBORN AND REGENERATE.

485

malignants. Those who were not criminals were tattered beg-
gars ; ignorance was so dense that some knew not the name of
God; few could read. The outcast population, remote from
any populous place for Pompeii, the nearest resort, was more
a museum than a city seemed to be dragging on an existence
entirely unknown to the outside world save when brought
under its notice by some startling deed of brigandage, mur-
der, or other outrage. Lawyers who are land agents are not
often squeamish on the mode of life or the social condition of

THE OBSERVATORY AT VALLE DI POMPEII.

the tenantry, but Signor Longo did not happen to be one of
these. He was at the time a tertiary of St. Francis, and, law-
yer though he was, he believed in the power of prayer even
to work wonders. In his earlier life he had been anything but
an exemplary Catholic. He had. been a dabbler in magnetism,
spiritualism, and other empiricisms of his time ; but his heart
had been touched by grace before infidelity had set in in the
train of folly. When he came to the Valle he found there but
one little church, almost in ruins, the haunt of vermin, such as
rats, lizards, and other noxious things feria quite typical of
the inhabitants of the uncanny spot. The little fabric would
not hold more than about a hundred of a congregation ; and

486 POMPEII REBORN AND REGENERA TE. [Jan.,

it was not often tested as to holding capacity. The cure lived
about a couple of miles away. There was no school-house, and
no demand for one. The population were sunk, in almost a
literal sense, in a Slough of Despond. That a change for the
better could be brought about by such an instrumentality as
the one chosen seems hard to believe. And yet we have the
evidence of accomplished facts to convince us of the irresistible
force of the fervent prayer to God, uttered out of the depths
of human helplessness and despair of human help. The Rosary
was the medium through which the seeming miracle was
worked. Signor Longo started the devotion of the Rosary in
the desolate valley ; his principal, the Contessa Fusco, and her
daughter, both devout Catholics, came down to help in the
good work of reclaiming the neighborhood. In order the more
effectually to carry out this work the contessa decided to take
up her residence in the vicinity, and a little time afterwards
she and her agent married, and thus were enabled to carry out
the beneficent plans they had formed all the more effectually.

Little by little the propagation of the Rosary devotion be-
gan to bear fruit. The women began to frequent the church,
the reign of lawlessness was checked, and the idlers were found
returning to work in the fields and by the mountain slope.
For it must be remembered that this little hell upon earth lay
directly under the weird purple shadow of Vesuvius, and in
full sight of the awful example of its destructive might, in
that city blotted suddenly out of existence in the very blossom
of its sins.

The devotion of the Rosary was formally instituted, and a
confraternity for that purpose was established in the Valle in
the year 1874. There was something lacking to the good work
a picture or image of the Blessed Mother ; and Signor Longo
hied him to Naples to get a suitable one. He ransacked all
the old curio stores, and at last came upon what he wanted.
It was an old painting, by whose hand or at what time created
there was no indication ; but it appeared to be artistically pas-
sable ; and so the signer brought it along, having bought it for
the merest trifle. It was divested of its coating of dust, re-
varnished, and set in a frame, and then put in its place in the
little old church. Hardly was it in position ere a wonderful
change came over things. The people flocked to the church to
pray many who had not prayed for years, more who had
forgotten to pray, and some who had never been taught how
to pray at all. The Bishop of Nola lent a hand toward the
erection of a new church ; pious laity, deeply interested in

1897.]

POMPEII REBORN AND REGENERA TE.

487

Signer Longo's project of reclamation, contributed also, and in
a very short time the ground was purchased and the founda-
tions laid for a new church. But this was not fall the good
the old picture brought. Four of the devotees of the Rosary
were persons afflicted with incurable diseases, and in a short
time the fact showed that what was pronounced impossible by
the doctors had
been accomplish-
ed by the power
of prayer. The
news spread, and
pilgrims came
flocking in. Cure
followed .upon
cure, many of the
cases being of the
most astonishing
character. Pom-
peii's fame spread
far and wide, and
it soon began to
attract thousands
of the devout and
the infirm. The
Archbishop of
Cagliari thus wrote
of it : " Lourdes
and Pompeii are
two great and
luminous light-
houses which
guide vessels to
port over an ocean
full of reefs and
shoals." Many
other dignitaries
who had witness-
ed the wonders wrought at the Valle added their testimony to
its supernatural graces. The Holy Father has showered marks
of his favor upon the shrine. It has, by an especial act of
his, been raised to the dignity of a pontifical sanctuary, thus
removing it from the jurisdiction of all outside bishops and
placing it in connection with the Holy See. Cardinal Monaco

THE ALTAR IN THE NEW CHURCH AT VALLE DI POMPEII.

488 POMPEII REBORN AND REGENERATE. [Jan.,

was designated as its protector. The pontifical decree by which
this was done, dated at Rome, the 2/th of June, 1893, announced
the elevation of Signer Longo to the rank of Chevalier Com-
mander of the Order of St. Gregory the Great.

The glory of the Valle di Pompeii is not confined to the
spiritual graces it has brought to a place so long sunk in hope-
less decadence. Signer Longo from the very first conceived the
idea of making it possible for material elevation to accompany
the regeneration of heart and spirit. He worked toward such
an end with unflagging energy. He saw the imperative neces-
sity of beginning at the very root of the evil which had grown as
a gangrene. It was with the young he had to commence the
work of reclamation. With the children of the place allowed
to grow up in savage ignorance and idleness, what could be
expected but a crop of criminals in the period of maturity ?
The inspiration of the late Father Drumgoole seized him ; he
would save those children though he had to beg for it. And
beg he did for years until he had built schools for them, and
workshops, and playgrounds. Around the beautiful shrine
where our Lady's image, decked with diamonds, glitters there
is reared an orphan asylum, a home where the sons of convicts
are brought up to a life of morality -and usefulness, technical
schools, art schools, and a large printing-house where much
literature bearing on the growth of the new Pompeii is turned
out by the inmates of the schools. The boys have a fine
gymnasium and playgrounds, and they can, like Father Drum-
goole's boys, boast of a capital band and a handsome uniform
for the members. There are, besides, rows of model dwellings
for working people, a fine town hall, commodious hotels, a
scientific observatory for noting the action of the ever-restless
volcano so disagreeably near, and other buildings necessary to
a thriving town. The place is furnished with pure water, and
is lit by electricity ; and the railway station is quite con-
veniently situated for the purposes of the traffic, which is
chiefly in passengers. Indeed the officials of this same station
have an amazingly busy hour of it, at certain festival times, in
the transportation of the thousands of pilgrims who flock to
the shrine.

It is all marvellous, more so by far than the legendary
work of Aladdin's genii. To transform a sterile stony desert
into a blooming garden were an easy task compared with the
work of turning such a horrible outlaw den as this was into a
gem of grace and a hive of industry. Human effort could not

1 897.]

POMPEII REBORN AND REGENERA TE.

489

possibly do it ; behind the human instrumentality there must
have been the irresistible might of Divine grace. But to Signer
Longo and his countess and her daughter the credit of initiat-
ing the great reform is due. They are reaping the reward
here, in the constant stream of help and blessing which is
pouring in upon them from every quarter of the globe ; still

THE MIRACULOUS PICTURE.

more, we believe, in the grateful prayers of the many whom
they have rescued from the jaws of a hopeless existence a
moral death. All Catholics, at least, who go to explore the
ruins of old Pompeii will not neglect to go to the Valle, where
a spectacle far more wonderful awaits their gaze a place long
buried beneath the lava and the scoriae of sin and shame, but
now giving glory to God by its sanctity, sobriety, and industry.

490 UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. [Jan.,

UNDER AN ALIEN SKY.

BY HELEN M. SWEENEY.

LD Castle Desmond, the finest place in the Coun-
ty of Kerry, had gone into the Encumbered
Estates Court.

Technically speaking, the estate had become
so encumbered that it was of no use to its
ostensible owner or to any one else. But what it really meant
none but Miss Margaret and her father knew. They alone,
the remnant of a once large family, could pierce the techni-
calities of law and touch the hidden, swelling heart beneath.
For generations the Desmonds had been born there; had lived,
and loved, and died there. Now Margaret and her father were
the last of them. They had seen the mother bend and fall
under the burden of sorrow and debt. The Young Ireland
movement of '48 had seen the two boys, Maurice and Der-
mot, engulfed in it, fired with brilliant hopes of success ; but

now,

" Dead ! one of them shot by the sea in the east,

And one of them shot in the west by the sea."

The famine year had completed the ruin of the estate.

To-day there was nothing to be done but give up the use-
less struggle and submit to the inevitable. It was not a sud-
den resolution. For years Master Desmond had been gradu-
ally pushed toward it. Word had been sent to all the tenants
that now was their opportunity to buy their little holdings, if
they so desired.

Nearest to the Great House, lying between Tarbert and
Listowel, was the little upland farm of Dennis MacBride. "A
fine, decent man," was the verdict of his neighbors concerning
Dennis. With the help of his two sons, Peter and John, he
tilled and planted the few acres on the hillside, rubbing along
as best he could, with alternate success and failure, as the
crops turned out good or ill. His wife had long been dead ;
Hannah, his oldest girl, was dairy-woman in the castle, and
Catherine, although but a slip of a girl, managed the house
for the three men.

It was Hannah who brought the news to them. From the

1897.] UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. 491

doorway her father had watched her coming his fine Irish
lassie. Within a few steps of the house she stood still. There
was something in her face her father could not understand,
but which made his heart quicken with a nameless fear. There
was nothing on her head, her little square shawl was thrown
carelessly over her shoulders, and her rapid walk had brought
the rich, color into her face; but he could not understand her
eyes. She stood there a minute gazing intently at the house,
a half-frightened, wistful look on her face, her hands clinched
with the stress of emotion that was tearing at her heart.

She unfolded her tale, and described with graphic accuracy
the heart-rending scene up at the castle that morning when the
master had assembled the household and had explained the
situation to them ; then, with fear and trembling, she mentioned
their own share in the matter. Here was a chance to make
their little home their own. For although Master Desmond
was the finest man alive as a landlord, there was something in
the independent Irish heart that longed for possession and
undisputed right to the roof that had covered generations of
MacBrides, as the Great House had sheltered the Desmonds.

Long and silently her father sat smoking his pipe, turning
over and over the new hope laid in his heart. As he puffed,
and blew the cloud of smoke above his head, his thoughts flew
back to the day he had brought Mary, his wife, home to these
walls. It had been her secret ambition too, he knew, to do
what Hannah was longing to do now. But somehow he had
never seen his way clearly to the accomplishment of her hopes.
And now she was dead. He realized that in her grave, where
the grass had been growing for ten long years, lay his heart,
his hope, his ambition. Rising stiffly, he knocked the ashes out
of his pipe, and, without looking at her, said to Hannah, " It
can't be done."

"Why, father?" '

"Why?' he blazed out, his emotion taking refuge in anger;
"because the fifty-odd pound in the bank would be a very small
part of the purchase money. The land and myself are worn
out. For the first time in my life I burnt the ground in the
long meadow this spring, for I could not allow it to lie fallow.
No, Ballyvelly must go down with its castle."

Never in all the checkered years that followed did Hannah
forget the walk back to the castle that night. The evening
sky was flushed with every delicate tint, from intense purple to
softest lilac and pale blue. The bare mountain tops with the

492

UNDER AN ALIEN SKY.

[Jan.,

"WITHIN A FEW STEPS OF THE HOUSE SHE STOOD STILL."

1897.] UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. 493

sun behind them stood out against a cloudless sky in a won-
drous haze of crimson fire, their rough outlines softened into a
marvellous, tender beauty. From the hedge at her side there
sprang a lark who, just before he settled himself for the night,
soared into the evening sky, his little throat pouring out U pr0-
fuse strains of unpremeditated art." Long she stood and
gazed after him, a dim, uncertain longing stirring in her heart
to try her wings too, and in the far new world that lay be-
yond the golden rim of the sea build up for her dear ones
their falling fortunes. It was only the dawn of a tiny hope,
and she put it from her as something altogether impracticable.
Never had she been outside the limits of her parish. A
walk of six miles to the chapel every Sunday, through fair
weather and foul ; an occasional trip to the sea lying just be-
yond the low hills bounding her master's estate, and once in
her life to a fair at Tralee, made up the sum of Hannah's
travels.

Her narrow little world was sweet and clean and whole-
some. Her creed was short and simple love of God, obedi-
ence to her parents, a most filial respect for Father John, and
lately a new love that had entered her heart ; and that was all.

It was at Mass the next morning that a resolution entered
her soul, a determination that threatened to tear her heart
from its place with the intensity of pain. There were tears
and sighs and heart-broken prayers all around her, for the
news had spread. The wave of trouble had stirred the little
village to its centre. Hannah knelt on the hard, cold flcor
and tried to fix her mind on the sacrifice of the Mass. But
she could not. Try as she would her father's white, set face
rose before her as she had seen it last night. She pictured
him leaving the roof where he, and his father's father before
him, had been born. She saw him bidding farewell to the
room where her mother had died. She saw Catherine but
the hot tears blinded her ! The fields, the barns, the dumb
creatures who knew her very touch ; the sweet young mistress
who since the mother's death had ruled the castle household
with wise, young hands, all all were pulling at her heart-
strings till she thought that heart would break. With a flood
of tears she bowed her head on her clasped hands, rocking her
body to and fro in an abandonment of grief, and heroically
made her sacrifice. Shouldering her cross, she rose from her
knees, a girl no longer a woman, with a sweet, strong look on
her fine open face, the love of God and passionate devotion to
VOL. LXIV. 32

494 UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. [Jan.,

her native land shining in her eyes. She had told our Lord, with
simple, childlike faith, that she left her dear ones in his care,
and would go to America to earn the money that would buy
the farm and make it their own.

Outside there were little knots of people here and there, all
talking of the one great topic. One there was leaning on the
low stone wall who she knew watched for her coming, but
she turned the other way. She could not tell him yet. Hur-
riedly she went homeward, her long, free stride carrying her
rapidly over the hard, steep white turnpike with its close-
clipped hedges.

As she turned up the road leading to the front entrance of
the castle she saw Miss Margaret stepping out. The front door
stood open that morning, as it usually did in all but the very
worst weather. Just in front of the house a lawn sloped from
the little eminence on which the house stood, down to the
white road which wound in and out, skirting the hills till it
was lost in the depths of the woods that covered them.

Hannah looked around her. The bold outlines and faint
colorings of the lovely place appealed to her as never before,
now that she had made up her mind to leave them all. But
hardest of all would be the parting from Miss Margaret. There
she was now waiting on the step ; her bonnet still in her hand,
her light summer shawl dropped from her shoulders, a sweet,
inquiring look on her face that went to Hannah's very heart.

"Have you told him, Hannah?'

" Yes, Miss Margaret ; but he's that down-hearted by the
story and discouraged by the last harvest, that was no har-
vest at all, that he cannot rightly take it in. 'Tis a different
story I'm to tell him to-day, Miss Margaret."

Then Hannah told of her new resolution. Now that it was
an hour old, and she was giving it voice, the glamour of it be-
gan to appeal to her, and with a new courage she combated
the difficulties Miss Margaret began to raise. It was the mis-
tress that was sadder than the maid when the little tare was
told.

" After all perhaps it's best, Hannah. You are young and
so strong. You have the world before you. Some day, per-
haps, I will look around and see no familiar face in the old
place ; all will have gone. Soon there will be thousands of
voices calling from the other side of the sea, and the mothers
and brothers and lovers left at home will rise and go, till there
is no one left in our lovely valleys, and our hill-sides will be

8 9 7.]

UNDER AN ALIEN SKY.

495

^ _

THERE SHE WAS NOW, WAITING ON THE STEP."

496 UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. [Jan.,

empty or inhabited by aliens. But go ; go, my good girl, and
may the good God bless you ! '

Not so readily did Hannah receive the paternal blessing.
Her father raised all sorts of objections, which Hannah
quietly and effectively talked down. " Hadn't Maggie Flaherty
died at sea ? Hadn't James O'Brien been killed in the war in
America ? Wasn't Delia Malone as well as dead, since she was
never heard from once she set foot on the unholy place ? '

Hannah could not reason ; she could only feel. But she re-
minded him that he was no longer young; that her brothers
were still too young to send out to that Eldorado whence so
many went, but so few returned ; that it was not likely she
would die on the way, or be sent to war, as surely they had
men enough in America, with all Ireland to draw from ; nor
was it likely that she would share Delia's unknown fate, for
hadn't she a dear father to earn for, and a neat little roof to
keep over their heads.

For long hours that night they talked, but the upshot of it
was that Hannah gained his blessing and consent, and one
week later was on her way.

" I place you in God's hands, my child," were her father's
parting words. And in God's hands she surely was, for in the
midst of adventures so new and strange as to almost take her
senses away she arrived in America one cold, gray day. With
the thousand other immigrants herded together in the great
ship Hannah was landed at Castle Garden, for it was before
the days of Ellis Island and its wonderfully fine executive
staff.

"Have you any one to meet you?'

Dazed from the hurry and bustle of landing, half-dead from
the fearful sea-sickness she had suffered, almost blind with tears,
Hannah turned her bewildered eyes to her questioner. She
saw an Irish priest, and the sight of him was like a breath of
her own native air.

" Is there any one to meet you ? Tell me the truth, my
child."

" Oh, yes, father ! "

" Where are they ? "

She fumbled in the bosom of her gown and drew out a little
silk purse tied with a draw-string. It held her only capital,
one bright new shilling, a sixpence cut in half, and a bit of
paper with the names and addresses of friends and neighbors
who had left the old land years before.

1897.] UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. 497

The kindly old priest put on his glasses. One lived in Bos-
ton, another in St. Louis, another and the good man frowned.
None knew better than he that the third address was no place
for this simple maid.

" Come with me/' he said, and stowed her away in a cor-
ner until he had finished his interested questionings of the
large number of lone and friendless girls who like herself had
ventured out alone. But nearly all of these had some friend
or relative to meet them, and only two joined Hannah in her
corner.

Late that night the priest, his long day's duty done, went
with her himself to the old House of Mercy in Houston Street.
There was always a welcome there for such as she, poor, friend-
less, alone, and the warm Irish hearts around her were as a
tower of strength to the poor girl.

Long afterwards she used to wonder what the sisters thought
of the " greenhorn ; who entered their door that night. She
was so big, so frightened, so worn and weary. She must have
cut a sorry figure, she thought, in her linsey-woolsey gown, her
little bright shawl, her coarse calfskin brogues. But Mother
Catherine, with her God-given gift, looked beneath the rough

. *

exterior and saw the pure, clean soul within, the sturdy pur-
pose, the brave heart. Her hands were large and rough, her
frame almost masculine ; but her eyes, deep Irish gray, were
the redemption of any face. They were eyes that could be
wistful, tender, gay, eager, and timid all at once. A dozen dif-
ferent and contradictory feelings mingled in the pure soul's
open windows, blending into a look, a spell, a charm that won
consideration and even courtesy from all with whom she came
in contact.

Accustomed all her life to free open-air work, she found
the confinement in the big house, which was like a hive of in-
dustry, almost unendurable. To turn her unskilled hands to
unwonted use was irksome to the verge of impossibility, but
she never shirked, never complained. But many a secret tear
fell into the stationary tub over which she bent hour after
hour, many a heart-ache did she rub out on the ironing-board ;
but she persevered, and soon had mastered the mysteries of
"clear starching' and "domestic finish' to such perfection
that she was encouraged day by day to look forward to the
time when she could earn the pound or two a month that was
to lift the heavy load at home.

Once Sister Joseph took her with her on a sick-call out to

498 UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. [Jan.,

the northern end of the city, but poor Hannah's home-sickness
was only intensified by the sight of green fields and stretches
of blue sky. That night her pillow was wet with tears while
she cried out her longing for the cowslip-covered fields, the
springy turf ; the wide meadows where wandered the herd of
little Kerry cows, every one of whom answered to her call ;
the sight of the blue smoke curling upward from the cabins on
the hills, and, above all, for sight of her father's face, the sound
of Catherine's gay laugh. Hannah could not read, could not
write her heart's message ; but there was no need of written
words where hearts are bound to hearts so intimately that dis-
tance can stretch but cannot break the tie.

Her appearance as she set out for her first " place ' would
have been laughable were it not pathetic. The efforts of the
sisters to make her more modern, hoping that a neat and tidy
appearance would create a good impression on her employer,
were hampered by some of Hannah's preferences. She had a
certain fondness for a big, coarse straw bonnet, mellowed into
a soft neutral -tint by wind and weather, its once bright red
ribbons toned down to a most artistic umber. But it was Irish
wind and Irish weather that had dimmed the brilliancy of
Hannah's bonnet, and change it she would not. She owned,
too, a huge green umbrella into whose capacious depths she
dropped sundry small articles that her fellow-workers had given
her out of their little store. This she carried in most, aggres-
sive fashion, calling down on her bewildered head comments
rude and pointed from her fellow-passengers on the " Bowery '
car in which she rode for the first time.

But nothing daunted her. She showed such a willingness
for work, however hard, and such a capacity for labor, that
she was soon termed a " rough diamond ' and a veritable trea-
sure in her new home.

Two months after she left the convent she was back, her
lovely eyes shining in a mist of tears, her smiling face aglow
with happiness, her hard-earned wages tied up in the little
purse, intact. Not a cent would she touch for herself, not a
penny would she keep.

" I've brought you the bit of money, sister, but for one
thing, and you'll please be so kind as to sit down now, if you
can, and do the bit of writin' for me that's to make them glad
at home."

The sister, an exile herself from the little green isle, stopped
a moment.

1 897.] UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. 499

" Hannah, what did you say was your county ? '

" County Kerry, sister, and finer there's none in all Ireland.
But why do you ask? do you have to put that on the letter?'

" Yes, Hannah ; but I am going to show you some one who
has come over from your own county lately, and maybe she
could write your letter better than I could. Maybe, too, she
might know some of your people."

She half regretted speaking as she saw the change in Han-
nah's face. All the color died out of it. A wild, hungry look
sprang into her eyes, and she grasped the sister's hand convul-
sively. Never before did Sister Joseph realize that home-sick-
ness could go so deep. But she led the way upstairs, and was
entering one of the private rooms reserved for those who could
pay for the care and shelter they received, when she was
called away and Hannah entered alone.

She looked in and saw a woman sitting in a great chair, a
rug over her knees, a pillow at her back, her hands clasped
listlessly in her lap, the flowers at her side no whiter than her
face. Hannah stole in noiselessly. The white-faced woman
turned her head. Their eyes met. With a great cry, which
she stifled immediately, Hannah fell on her knees before the
other, clasping her feet and sobbing out her grief, her home-
sickness, her joy at meeting.

" Miss Margaret ! "

When the storm had spent itself and the two could talk
coherently, Hannah heard all the home news and how the
last of the Desmonds had become an exile too. There was a
lifeless droop of the mouth and eyes, a weight of weariness
and pain on the brows " Just heart-break ! ' she called it on
Miss Margaret's face that saddened Hannah's to see. Only
while she was talking did the look go.

" My father died soon after you left."

" God rest his soul ! ' said Hannah. " But was there no
providin' for you ? What drove you from the castle ? Oh ! '
she burst out, " to think of strangers bein' where none but
Desmonds ever lived ! '

" Hush, Hannah ! That looks as if we were flying in the
face of God. Sad as it was it must have been his will."

" True for you, Miss Margaret. But what are you going to
do now ? '

" I have a little money not muc]i, it is true ; but I am
trying to learn from Sister Mary the art of illuminating, and I
can work."

500 UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. [Jan.,

"Work! is it you to work, my own dear mistress?' ex-
claimed Hannah; "never while I have a bit of strength in my
body. I'd give my heart's blood for you or yours. Never will
a Desmond soil her hands while there's a MacBride to do for
them."

Miss Margaret clasped the rough, red hand in both hers.
She did not cry ; she was too deeply moved for that. She
gently drew Hannah toward her and kissed her once, softly,
tenderly, with her heart on her lips.

"Who knows?' said Hannah, with a tremulous laugh;
"we'll raise a new roof-tree over here some day, and you'll be
our own mistress once more, though you're that to me now,
Miss Margaret, and I'll never own to another."

Hannah's letter, with its precious enclosure, went on its way
that night, freighted with love and hope and passionate grati-
tude from Margaret that she once more had within reach one
of her own with a heart warm and true. And when Father
John acknowledged the receipt of it and told how happy and
thankful it made old MacBride, and how affairs were going
wrong at home with the new master, who was so harsh with
the old tenants, Margaret's heart ached with pain for herself,
but all the more for Hannah, who suffered so much in her
dear ones.

Month after month the precious letter that represented so
much went on its way; but at length Miss Margaret had to
read a letter to Hannah one day had to inflict a blow on the
brave heart that it nearly broke her own to give.

Her father was evicted.

All her little savings had been poured into a sieve. Bad
crops, bad health, bad usage had accomplished more than Han-
nah had. Then he had been unfortunate enough to fall out
with the new agent, who had shown no mercy to one who had
received nothing but consideration from Master Desmond's
hands. Father John had written this time with a heavy heart,
and at the end had said: " Poor old MacBride! the only bit of
land he'll ever own now is the six-by-two."

Hannah's tears were streaming while this letter was being
read to her. Not once did she grudge the year's wasted
work.

" Sure, he knows I've been faithful to him," she said, " and
will be."

" Who does he know in Listowel, that he's gone there,
Hannah ? "

i8 9 7-]

UNDER AN ALIEN SKY.

501

" A fourth cousin of my mother's, that has none too much
for his own," she said. " O Mother of God ! ' she cried in
agonized prayer, " to think of him being put out on the road-
him whose head grew gray under his own little roof ! ' She
wept passionately and refused to be comforted. For four
weeks afterwards she did not return to the convent, and Miss
Margaret, too ill to go and look for her, was fretting over her
non-appearance when one day she came in.

It was a changed Hannah, though. Her step was languid ;

"HE CAME INTO THE DAIRY TO SAY GOOD-BY."

her high color had nearly if not quite faded away ; her eyes
had a sombre look.

Each was secretly shocked at the change in the other.
Hannah resolutely put away her own sorrow, and determined
to devote more of her time and attention to her beloved Miss

502 UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. [Jan.,

Margaret. She was getting on in the world. It is seldom that
such honesty as hers, such sincerity of purpose, are left un-
noticed. She had received an advance in wages to fourteen
dollars a month, and her heart was made glad by permission
to go every Sunday to the convent to love and watch over and
tend to her beloved mistress. With an instinctive delicacy she
had never mentioned, even to the sisters, who Miss Margaret
really was, and for years they thought the feeling between the
two oddly assorted friends was just the common bond of
" county love," that is strong enough in all classes to account
for any demonstration of affection. That "one of the Des-
monds ' would care for her might detract from the dignity of
the family in Hannah's eyes, entirely unconscious of the rare
nobility of her own character that lifted her above all class dis-
tinctions.

Every Sunday after Vespers was the one "white hour' in
Hannah's life, when she would steal into Miss Margaret's room
to see if she were asleep. But she was always waiting for her.
Always she brought a bit of green thing, if it were only a
tuft of grass, " far fear the love of it might starve," said Han-
nah, whose sweet simplicity of soul was akin to poetry. Then
she would pour into the thirsty heart beside her the tones, the
accent, the sweet caressing love-words of the Irish tongue.

No one else ever got quite near Miss Margaret's heart-
not even good Mother Catherine for to no one would she ex-
pand as to her fellow-countrywoman. She had built a wall of
coldness and reserve round about herself that it was impossible
to break down. The prison might be of her own making, but
it was none the less a prison. She envied Hannah her great
strength, her youth, and above all her ambition.

" If I had even a sister to work for, I too could be of
some use," she said sadly.

"Use is it, alanna? Do you call it no use to make one
heart glad ? even though that heart's nothing but a servant's.
What would I do at all but for you ? ' Then, changing
abruptly, " Do you mind the day the two English officers came
visitin' the town, and Peter Hoolahan gettin' up the wake for
their benefit ? ' Then, encouraged by the hearty laugh at the
reminiscence, Hannah would go on from story to story, each
droller than the last, till Miss Margaret would forget her trials
forget to contrast her former lot with the present, and a
little gleam of happiness would brighten the days till Hannah
came the next Sunday.

1897-] UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. 503

Once a month the precious day was devoted to writing and
laughing and crying over the regular letter home. Not once
would Hannah consent to use the new address. " Never," she
said, "while I can earn a dollar will I send it in any one's
care but my own parish priest. How could I be sending let-
ters to a strange place like Listowel, where none of my name
ever lived or died ? 'Tis no trouble, I'm sure, to Father John
to see to it for me." And it wasn't. He even took the trou-
ble to be the sender of all news good and bad, and soon again
a bit of news w r inged its way over the sea to the two women,
for Miss Margaret was as anxious as Hannah.

Father John wrote that Peter, her brother, was married,
and to a " comrade girl ' of her own.

" Now that's as it should be," said Hannah, " though it
does beat all how young the fever catches them. But he's
provided for, anyway. But oh ! to think of it ' and her tears
fell fast " that he cannot bring home the bride to the old
roof, but must take her to a strange place. That's what's
making my heart ache to-night."

Poor Hannah was learning how much the heart can ache
without breaking, for the very next month came the news
" Your father is dead."

Margaret feared to tell her, but she took it in a strangely
quiet way.

" Oh ! sure, I knew he would never do a day's good after
they drove him out of his own place. I knew 'twould come to
this," she sobbed ; " I knew it, I knew it ! He couldn't live
in a town at all. He wasn't like me," she said, remembering
her own terrible experience during the first few months; "I
have the strength; he had none, and in his old age they turned
him out ! God keep me from hatin' them that did it ! May
the Lord rest his soul, and keep me from committin' sin this
day! ' she added fervently. "But read on, Miss Margaret, dear;
tell me, was Father John with him at the last? Don't tell me
he had a strange priest over him ! ' she cried in agony. " Oh !
I know, I know there's no difference ; but Father John was
part of our very lives. He married him, as you well know ;
he baptized us all ; he buried my mother O God of the father-
less, look down on me this day ! ' And the fatherless woman
beside her threw her arms around her, and mistress and maid
mingled their salt, bitter tears.

Again Hannah stayed away for two weeks, and again the
refining touch of sorrow could be seen in the marked improve-

504 UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. [Jan.,

ment in her appearance. She wore a neat, well-made black
gown that, with the narrow line of white at her throat and
wrists, gave her a new air of distinction, while constant inter-
course with her employer, who was most kind and indulgent,
together with the companionship of the sisters and her loved
Miss Margaret, worked a metamorphosis in the awkward im-
migrant of three years before.

She was learning to sew. Already she could demand much
higher wages than she was getting for her skilled laundry
work ; but she preferred to remain with old Mrs. Cole, who
had been so good to her, so patient with her greenness. For
some little time she did not ask to have any letter written
home, and one night she showed Miss Margaret a bank-book.
To be sure it had only a pitiful little sum in it, but it was a
beginning.

" My dear Hannah, I am glad you are beginning to think of
yourself at last."

"An' do you think it's myself this is for?' she said, tap-
ping the little brown book. " Oh, no, no ! while there's one of
my name that needs me I'll share my heart's blood with
them."

Margaret felt shamed into silence.

" I'll not be denyin' that there's 'one at home that I'd be
proud to be savin' for ; but

" But ? " and Miss Margaret leaned forward eagerly.

"There's Catherine. I'm thinkin' of sending for her."

" O Hannah ! " exclaimed Miss Margaret, impetuously catch-
ing hold of the hand near her and drawing Hannah to her,
" for once in your life leave Catherine out ; leave every one
out but yourself. Tell me, who is it ? '

Hannah's beautiful Andalusian eyes grew misty as she
looked into Miss Margaret's face, not seeing it. She dropped
on the floor beside her and flung her strong young arm across
the lap of the friend who had been so much to her.

" Miss Margaret, you've been an honest friend to me day
in and day out since the day God put it into Sister Joseph's
head to direct me to this room, and I found you, like a white
lily, droopin' here. Do you mind the dairy at home at the
castle ? Often am I thinkin' of it with its cool earthen floor
hard as a rock, its trellised sides, its rows and rows of shiny
keelers, and the tall churn don't cry, dear ; oh ! why am I
rakin' up old scenes to you like this? But sometimes I think
cryin' does us good ; it eases the heart. Well, you'll not

1 897.] UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. 505

remember, perhaps, when old Barney, him that had the tendin'
of the creatures, was laid up with a broken leg? Yes? Well,
there came one from Kenmare to take his place again the
time he would be around. It's not many masters would pay
the both of them, as your father God rest his soul ! did. But
that's neither here nor there. The lad that took Barney's
place I--I came to love him once and for ever. Not that he
ever spoke a word to me, for he was that silent, and that-
well, he just couldn't. I wished no ill to Barney, but my heart
sank the day he came round again. Jerry was to go that
night. He came into the dairy to say good-by to me. I
turned sudden-like and saw a look on his face that fairly
frightened me. There was such pain in it, Miss Margaret
such dumb sorrow.. My own face must have told on me, for
the next thing I knew I was cryin' on his shoulder, and him
holdin' me tight and sayin' the sweetest words a woman can
hear. He could have had his pick of the lassies around
Ballyvelly, but he took me that had nothing but a faithful
heart. We were to be married that summer. Then all of a
sudden came the wave of trouble and change for us all, and I
had to put the ocean between us. We told no one of our
love for one another at first, for we wanted our secret to our-
selves it was the sweeter. Miss Margaret, dear, it is three
years come this day week since we met, but I can see the
place yet where we trysted last. A fallen tree made a handy
seat. The hedge was white with hawthorn, and the cowslips
and little daisies with their pink tips made a bright carpet for
our feet, and the long twilight sure they have no twilights
here was like a solemn, sweet kind of ending to the day. I
can see the look on his face as he talked of the bright days
coming, of days when he would come to America and make his
fortune. O Miss Margaret ! many's the time I think of that
mistake we make at home. All our lives it's nothing but
America, America ! Sure, if anything goes wrong, from a
drought to an eviction, it's America we look to. An' small
harm to us after all ; as they're so fond of singin' here, ' It's
the land of the free,' and until Ireland can say that of her own
sweet sod this is the next best thing. But I can't help thinkin'
if our boys stayed at home Ah, well ! my boy's at home, any-
way, and all our plannin' came to naught. He's there workin'
and slavin' for his poor old mother, for she's too old to leave,
and she's too old to bring ; 'twould be like pullin' her up by
the roots ; and it's myself that's doin' the slavin' at this end.

506 UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. [Jan.,

Oh ! but it will be a proud day that'll see us together again.
Not a word has passed between us since I left. I thought as
long as we had it to ourselves from the first, we ought to keep
it close to the end. I know he's true to me, for have I not
been true to him ? Many a time when my heart was achin' with
longin' I had a mind to ask you to do the bit of writin', alanna ;
but I just couldn't bring myself to talk out the secret of my
heart even to you. And I know he wouldn't like to ask any
one to read the letter to him either."

Long, long Miss Margaret sat thinking that night after
Hannah had left her. Here was a new element in Hannah's
life, and one that would have to be taken into consideration.
She had grown, in her loneliness and self-imposed isolation, to
depend on the strong, warm heart beside her, and now to be
cut off by Hannah's new ties would be like leaving home again,
for Hannah was the very essence of home. But she could not
complain. The hands that had worked so willingly for others
should surely have some reward now.

She said as much to Hannah the next time she came. But
Hannah was shut up like an oyster again, and would talk of
nothing but Catherine.

" Do you mind the fine head of hair she had, Miss Mar-
garet ? All the gold she had was on her head, she had none
in her pocket," laughed Hannah, as she produced her bank-
book to be inspected "just to see if it's straight" and made
Miss Margaret calculate how long it would take to save the
passage-money for Catherine.

" She's young, you know, still, and she promised to grow
tall, and your father said once it must have been from our
Spanish ancestors we got our eyes whatever he meant by
that ; but her eyes are beautiful, anyway, though I do say it as
shouldn't."

An unexpected windfall of twenty-five dollars coming as a
Christmas present to Hannah, shortly after she had nursed
Mrs. Cole through a long, tedious illness, was the culminating
stroke of good fortune, and soon the two exiles were watching
every mail eagerly for the letter from Catherine stating the
name of her steamer.

The day Hannah went down to Ellis Island to welcome her
sister Miss Margaret thought she never saw her look so hand-
some. Her figure had filled out, light and color had come
back to her face, and her eyes fairly danced. Going down in
the train she looked so radiantly happy that many a one even

I897-]

UNDER AN ALIEN SKY.

507

" LONG, LONG Miss MARGARET SAT THINKING."

in conservative New York had a desire to speak to the bright-
faced lassie. That cold strangeness and aloofness was among
Hannah's early trials. It was inexpressibly lonely to walk

508 UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. [Jan.,

along the crowded thoroughfares, and never once get a " God
save you kindly ! ' or a " Top of the morning to you ! '

But all that would be changed now that Catherine was to
be with her. Over and over again she pictured Catherine's
praise and astonishment when she took her to the little flat she
had hired. For she determined, and Miss Margaret agre'ed
with her, that Catherine's first days should be spent in peace
and quiet ; and then if everything went well, and Mrs. Cole
would go to Europe next year, as she said she was going to
do, she and Catherine would keep house in the little flat, with
all its wonderful modern conveniences that would make Cather-
ine stare as they had her ; and perhaps but this was a very
remote hope perhaps Miss Margaret would consent to come
and live with the two of them.

Her day-dreaming had brought her to the Battery before
she knew it. With wondering but intelligent eyes she took in
all the details of the place. The registration of her own name
and address, of her sister's name and that of the steamer, and
the orderly arrangement of the big crowd who, like herself,
had come down to welcome those who had been left behind
some years before.

Not until Mr. McCool came up to her, leading a tall, pretty,
fair-haired, gray-eyed girl, did she take in the fact that this
was little Catherine. Oh, the heart-ache that embrace covered,
the pains of years those tears washed away ! All the way
over on The Rosa Hannah would hold her darling at arm's
length, and devour with her eyes the bloom on the young
face, the Irish roses glowing in the cheeks.

And 'Hannah was as new to Catherine. This tall, fine-look-
ing woman, with her neat cloth suit, her gloves, and quiet,
pretty hat, could not be the ungainly girl Catherine faintly
remembered. She felt she could not tell her secret to this un-
known sister. But it had to be done.

" Hannah," she said with a downward look, " I did something
just before I left home."

" What is it, Catherine, bawn ? ' heedless of the looks of
the other passengers in the elevated train.

" I got married." She pulled at a string around her neck
and showed a cheap wedding-ring attached to it.

"Put that on you this instant!' said Hannah. "An'
what kind of a man is it you're married to that would let you
do that with his ring? Who is he, pray?'

" Some one that came to work in Listowel after our

1897.] UNDER AN ALIEN SKY. 509

father died. You don't know him. Jerry Carberry's his

name.'

Hannah did not cry out, she did not faint, she did not
move. Like all emotional natures, when stricken deepest she
was dumb. Besides, her Irish Catholic reverence for the holy
marriage tie forbade even a tear of regret. An absolute quiet-
ness settled on her face not despair, not disappointment only
a sort of stillness that seemed to extinguish the light and glow
of soft color, and to turn her dark eyes into two cold, shining
stones. She went on asking questions about home affairs, not
hearing the answers, her heart was throbbing so in her ears ;
and Catherine went on telling bits of news, complaining all
the time to herself that Hannah took so little interest in the
greatest bit of news she had to tell.

She was restless that night and could not sleep after the
fatigue and excitement of the day; but she wondered if
Hannah always lay like that when she slept so straight, so
still, as though she did not breathe.

The next day Hannah took her to the neat little flat and
explained all its improvements to her, and said:

"This is your home. You'll go with me to-night to the
good Sisters of Mercy, and wait there till your husband comes.
There's one there will write to him for you, and you tell him
nothing but that you have a home ready for him and he must
come to you who bear his name."

Catherine was nothing if not obedient ; but she would find
it hard to be anything else to this stern-faced woman, whose
face looked so different to the greeting one she had smiled
into on the island the day before. Catherine was glad she was
married, if hard work, even in rich America, did that to one.

Then Hannah expected her to be particularly nice to the
pale, delicate woman whom she found in the parlor of the
House of Mercy. She was told she was Miss Desmond ; but
that meant little to her who never had much to do with the
castle, and only knew of the Desmonds by hearsay. She won-
dered if Miss Desmond knew aught of Jerry, she had started
so when Hannah said she was married to him. She was glad
to go off with Sister Joseph, and be made much of as Hannah's
sister, and be shown her snug little corner where she was to
wait till Jerry came.

It is doubtful if she would have been moved even had she
seen Miss Margaret and Hannah clasped in each other's arms
after she had left them ; Hannah, dry-eyed and serious, sooth-
VOL. LXIV. 33

Sio

UNDER AN ALIEN SKY.

[Jan.,

ing Miss Margaret, whose slender body was shaking with
sobs.

"There, there! my darlin', don't take on so," she said. "I
was never cut out for his wife, maybe."

" Hannah, you're well rid of such as he."

"No, no, Miss Margaret; I'll be fair and square to him. I
have a pretty good idea how it was. He went to her at first
to get some tidings of me ; but being the quiet kind, he didn't
know how to get around his errand. And then her pretty face
did the rest ; he's only a man, Miss Margaret."

And that was as near to a reproach as she ever got. She
lived to see Jerry's children on another woman's knees ; and
she lived to work and slave for that same weak, pretty woman
with more than a sister's, with a hero's devotion.

Years later when she was living with Miss Margaret, who
had become a helpless invalid, and in rare moments would
speak of that which lay nearest her heart, her deep charity
could find no word against the two who had spoiled her little
love idyl.

Once Miss Margaret said to her: "Poor Hannah! you have
had all the pain of love and none of the sweet."

"You're wrong, dear Miss Margaret," she said. "Love saved
me from greed of money and a hard heart. Love is good
whether it runs its course or not." And she smiled bravely in-
to the face of the one who had become dearer to her every
day that they lived together under an alien sky.

1 897.] AFTER THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. 511

AFTER THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE.

VERY great work was accomplished when repre-
sentatives of the Irish nation came from every
part of the world to meet representatives of the
nation at home, to consider the divisions which
were ruining the national cause. It does not
matter what enemies say of the Convention. Mr. Redmond's
paper, the Irish Daily Independent, assailed it unsparingly, it was
sneered at by English papers, and the communications sent to
America proved that there was a conspiracy to regulate the
despatches to the press; but that reciprocal malignity of
mutually hostile interests falls impotently in view of nearly
three thousand delegates whose testimony concludes every
question concerning the quality of the men present and the
tone of mind they brought to their counsels. No doubt, it
may be objected, they will speak well of themselves ; but the
reply is that it is no one's affair but their own and that of
their constituents. No Irishman cares a straw what an English
Tory or Unionist paper says or what an anti-Irish Irish paper
says, whether it be the vulgar Orange Mail or that organ of
chivalrous journalism which plays with libel as a gambler does
with loaded dice. It is to be regretted that Mr. Healy was
not there, for his own sake even more than -for that of the
convention ; but his absence, notwithstanding the opinion of
Mr. Joseph Chamberlain to the contrary, does not affect the
character of the assembly and the authority of its proceedings.

UNIQUENESS AND AUTHORITY OF THE ASSEMBLY.

The home delegates were able to state in every corner of
Ireland that a great parliament sat in the Leinster Hall, em-
powered to speak for Irishmen at home and abroad in a way
that no similar body had ever done or could have done before.
There were representatives in the strictest sense, accredited
from abroad after selection and in pursuance of the deliberate-
ly concerted scheme of a pan-Celtic convention. This was the
first time such a confederation of Irish provinces for so we
call Australasia, America, Canada, Africa, and Ireland was at-
tempted. The Irish abroad met on former occasions, and these
were many how many no one knows ! unless perhaps a curi-

512 AFTER THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. [Jan.,

ous student has examined the British archives everywhere, and
family libraries everywhere, in England and Ireland, and from
the reports of spies or ambassadors saying that Irish officers
in foreign service and Irish professors in foreign universities
and seminaries were sending money or information as to what
the Most Christian King, or his Most Catholic Majesty, or the
Archduchess, or the Emperor, was prepared to do in a certain
conjunction of circumstances. But such well-meant informa-
tion, even though coupled with the remittances, did not make
the writers a part of the body holding council at home. We
will not lose sight of those exiled Irish to please persons who
think the little they themselves have done is a great matter
or rather, because they have been put into a position of promi-
nence by an accident, think that they are heaven-born states-
men and dictators by divine right. They were unknown until
Mr. Parnell took them up, and if he had no indefeasible title
to lead the country astray, they have none. If he might be
deposed by the nation, so may they be.

But to return to the composition of the first parliament of
all-Ireland, and what the delegates could carry home to those
that sent them. The assembly was dignified and even austere
in its regard for order, but wonderfully patient in hearing
views, not always wise, not always expedient, but which plainly
proceeded from hearts sick of the selfishness, jealousy, and in-
solence that have caused all the shame and scandal and defeat
of the six last years. We have read the speeches, and they
could be spoken of not only as evincing ability of no common
order, but statesmanship of a high order. We understand that
in such a report as we are describing it could with absolute
truth be stated that a spirit of deep and solemn enthusiasm
pervaded the whole body, as though each man realized the
greatness of the occasion and that he was assuming respon-
sibilities which were not to terminate when the convention
closed.

LIVING WITNESSES FOR HOME RULE IN BRITISH COLONIES.

What these have said or could have said throughout Ire-
land the American delegates could tell their own constituents,
who possess in the great commonwealth a place as well se-
cured and a share of authority as ample as if they were born
under its flag ; so can the Canadian delegates, enjoying as they
do the blessing of self-government under the British crown ; so
can the delegates from Australasia, who in that continent share

1 897.] AFTER THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. 513

loyally with their fellow-subjects the work of building up a
great power out of the youngest of the nations ; so can those
from Africa, whose courage, energy, and resolve are the springs
of lives of enterprise which, it is hoped, will revive the part
Africa bore in ancient times in the production of wealth for
all the world, and in achievements of the intellect for all time.
From that council for national reconstruction, from that
great act of faith in the destinies of the Irish race, there is
nothing wanting to make it the most memorable as it is the
most singular gathering in history. We know of nothing like
it in human affairs. The great empires of antiquity ruled from
their capitals and only assembled the nations under them for
war. Rome conceded citizenship to barbarian or manumitted
slave of the ten thousand states and provinces she absorbed,
but excluded him from authority. No one, unless he was
descended from the Tribes or in some way had his household
gods in the URBS whose shadow was cast over the earth,
could possess high executive functions, exercise an independent
command, sit in the senate, act in the comitia, have the privi-
leges of tribune, practise in the courts, or rise through the
gradations of public service from the quaestorship to the
consulate. If kings and people came before Rome, it was to
hunt down some Mithridates or as allies in the internecine
wars of triumvirs. There was the cohesion of irresistible
power and prestige ; but no voluntary union, like the love
which sends the heart from a Canadian farm-house to the
graveyard round the old ruins of a church built in memory of
a saint who died in Ireland fourteen hundred years ago ; sends
the heart to the house and garden girt with a row or two of
poplars and a row or two of fir-trees where early days were
passed ; no voluntary union like the love which under the
Southern Cross thinks and dreams and plans and prays for
Ireland ; no love like that which in America has as great a
power upon the orator wielding at will the democracy of his
adopted country as the laborer whose hard-earned dollar or
strong right hand is at the service of that old land the thought
of which is a prayer, a passion, a pain, an influence of never-
failing might within him ; no union like that love which sees
in the white moonlight of South Africa, in the mysterious
depths of her silent skies and the massive purple of her moun-
tains, the April moon of Ireland, her skies of inaccessible
height, and the green hills transformed by the magic of the
heart and memory ; no union anywhere or at any time like this

AFTER THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. [Jan.,

love which links to home these exiled hearts ; links them to the
cause of their fathers, to the vindication of their memory, to
the atonement of the countless wrongs for the redressal of
which they had lived and under the weight of which they died ;
nothing in time or land like this love of the sea-divided Gael
for Ireland.

HONOR TO WHOM* HONOR IS DUE.

In suggesting the holding of the convention the Archbishop
of Toronto has been the means of eliciting an expression of
loyalty and strength which goes beyond the bare purpose of
the hour. The cause of Ireland is gained in a sense in which
it was never won before. It is not four millions and a half of
Irishmen within the four seas of Ireland, governed by the Cas-
tle and the Boards, the Great Unpaid and the police, that limit
and impel the Irish question. It is not a subject of moods
and recommendations, of pigeonholed reforms, of aims and
schemes that never end ; it is not the weather-glass of a fortune
rising with the Liberal pulse and the growing fierceness of the
people ; falling with the people's apathy, or weariness, or dis-
trustfulness at such time as the Tory's policy of hate is masked
in smiles and his iron bracelets enveloped in flowers. This is
the policy of killing Home Rule with kindness. How do his
supporters among the Irish nationalist members like the picture?

MR. CHAMBERLAIN'S SHALLOW TAUNT.

This Ireland at home weak and discontented, though a trou-
ble through her deathless energy of nerve, does not express the
whole of one side of the conflict. Mr. Chamberlain discounted
himself when he declared that Mr. Redmond and his friends
as well as the other Irish members lived on the subscriptions
of the New York servant girls. These girls have brothers and
fathers there may be others under their influence as well-
who could be made in certain circumstances a terrible weapon
of the wrath and vengeance of three times four and a half
millions. Those who profess to be statesmen should remember
their responsibilities. Men like Mr. Chamberlain, with a hand-
to-mouth policy or a policy tainted by prejudice, do mischief
that the most profound sagacity can hardly repair. No stronger
instance of the truth of this remark and its truth needs no
instance is the attitude of Mr. Gladstone compared with that
of the right honorable gentleman just named. Mr. Gladstone
has succeeded in winning to the connection all the best ele-

1897.] AFTER THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. 515

ments of the Ireland at home and abroad. So strong is the
attachment that it survives the desertion of Lord Roseberry,
the ingratitude of certain Nonconformists, the malignant utter-
ances of Mr. Chamberlain ; but it can be killed by inexplica-
ble delay. It is no explanation, in an honest sense, to say that
the majority returned against Home Rule at the last election
is due to dissensions among the Irish themselves. Either the
concession of Mr. Gladstone's large county council, for the
Home-Rule Bill was no more than that, is the embodiment of
a just policy or it is not. If it be not, it should not be con-
ceded under any circumstances ; if it is, it should be conceded
irrespective of the attitude of Mr. Redmond and his followers.
Now, not one of the latter would dare to oppose the passing
of such a measure if it were introduced to-morrow ; nay more,
having supported it strenuously in the House, they would go
back to their constituents with the information that everything
valuable in the bill was due to their exertions, while its short-
comings should be attributed to the Irish party and the inepti-
tude of Mr. Dillon.

BANEFUL RESULTS OF IRISH DISSENSION.

If the dissensions were anything more than personal, there
might be some excuse for the falling back of part of the Liberal
line from the cause of Home Rule. In reality they are only
personal, but they afford a number of Englishmen who profess
Liberal principles some ground for doubting that it is the best
policy for England as long as powerful and wealthy interests
in that country assert that it means the disintegration of the
Empire. Englishmen support Home Rule because it is best for
England and Ireland ; unless they thought so there would be no
honesty in their policy. What must be thought of the action
of those Irishmen which renders English support a difficulty if not
an impossibility? The dissensions lead to this; and so much in
love are the malcontents with the quarrel they seem ready to
reject every proposal for reconciliation. This alone can explain
the insulting remarks about the status of the delegates from
abroad. If some strange blindness had not possessed Mr. Red-
mond and his organ, they would have been cautious in dealing
with men who came to Ireland in pursuance of a plan of national
reconciliation advised by an Irishman, first of the exiles by his
great office in Holy Church, his ability and his virtue. The per-
son to whom his Grace of Toronto addressed the ever-memorable
letter was not a member of his flock, but a Canadian Protes-

516 AFTER THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. [Jan.

tant whose love of the land of his fathers was as strong as if
he had been born in Ireland, and fittingly, most fittingly, ad-
dressed to him to show that a Catholic prelate knew of what
metal Protestant patriots were made.

" What matter though at different shrines
We kneel unto one God/'

wrote the purest spirit that ever gave itself to Ireland, the
Protestant, Thomas Davis. One is strangely moved in think-
ing of these things and reflecting how they are disregarded by
men who presume to claim a leadership in Irish national
affairs.

A SILLY PRETENCE.

The delegates from the British Colonies and the United
States were, it appears, not known to the Parnellites when these
visited America and the Colonies to seek aid for the Home-Rule
cause. If a similar argument had been adopted at the time
if the exiles replied to requests for assistance that they knew
nothing about Mr. Parnell and less about his agents, what
would be the state of the Home-Rule question now ? If there
were a few holding the pretence of sitting in Parliament as
Home-Rulers, it would be like students in a debating society
playing at high politics. An annual bill or resolution would
be introduced to amend the legislative relations between Great
Britain and Ireland. Some constitutional law of little applica-
tion would be stated with ability and exactness, a mass of par-
liamentary history would be reviewed, reflecting credit on the
industry if not upon the practical judgment of the speakers ;
but no reply would come from the Treasury bench. Then the
division bell would be rung, and from library and smoking-
room and bar the big battalions, that had not heard what the
Irish members said, would pour into the House and thence in-
to the lobby, voting by twenty to one that no reform in the
relations of the two countries was needed. That this childish-
ness, or, it may be, this duplicity, is not still carried on is,
we think, due to the exiles whom the Parnellites have sub-
jected to such scorn and contempt, and upon one of whom at
the least they cast reflections of a character so libellous as to
surpass anything known in modern journalism.

A LIBEL WORTHY OF "THE TIMES."

It was suggested in the Irish Daily Independent that an
alderman from Ottawa, in the Dominion, the Chevalier Heney,

1 897.] AFTER THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. 517

was a co-conspirator with Le Caron or Beach, the Fenian in-
former or spy who was produced before the commission ap-
pointed to examine into the charges against Mr. Parnell, his
party, and others, for complicity in crime and outrage in
Ireland. We have read the evidence of Beach in the edition
published from the Daily News, and entitled a " Diary of the
Parnell Commission." There is no reference made to Chevalier
Heney in this report ; nothing said which could in any way
point to him ; but we state now that he is a well-known
citizen of Ottawa, thirty-three years an alderman, a large
employer, a man of the greatest benevolence nay, of heroic
charity, and has received a decoration from the Holy Father.
The indignation of his fellow-citizens at the publication was
shown in the cablegrams from Ottawa to his fellow-delegates
from the Dominion. No correction or retractation of this
statement by implication has ever appeared in the Irish Daily
Independent. It was not the less a libel that it aimed at
destroying the man's character and outraging his feelings by
innuendo in the form of a question. Mr. Redmond, from whom
better things might have been expected, should have done what
he could to show regret for an irreparable wrong.

A DISTINGUISHED PROTESTANT HOME-RULER.

Mr. Blake, to whom the Archbishop of Toronto wrote the let-
ter recommending the settlement of differences by such a conven-
tion as that which met in Dublin, is a Parliamentary colleague of
Mr. Redmond and the other Parnellite members. There can be
no question either of his character or of his financial indepen-
dence. He is a man of means who not only gives his services but
his pecuniary aid to the national cause. It cannot be said of
him that he owes all social consequence and whatever fortune
he possesses to his employment in the service of the Irish
people. As the recipient of his grace's letter his standing af-
forded a guarantee that the assembly would be one worthy of
the cause, worthy of all that the name of Ireland means. Any
other view degrades the Irish people. Notwithstanding their
great number, both in Ireland and elsewhere, it makes them an
unstable race, with the curse upon them that they shall not
excel ; despite the success which has marked the steps of so
many in the highest pursuits of life in the States and in the
colonies, it points them out to a wondering world as a people
devoid of reason in any matter affecting the interests of their
country. The. perfect frankness with which these men came

518 AFTER THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. [Jan.,

from great distances, at expense, trouble, and loss of time, dis-
plays singular nobility of character; so that the more one thinks
of the criticisms pronounced upon them in Ireland, whether by
Mr. Redmond's paper or any other national organ, or by Irish
speakers at political clubs or meetings of faction or revolt, the
more astounded is he that such publications and such public
men should possess one scintilla of influence, one shred of
following in the country.

ONE OF IRELAND'S PATRIOT PRELATES.

The fact that the Bishop of Raphoe presided was another
security for the dignity and value of the convention. He took
the chair on the motion of Mr. Justin McCarthy a man who,
in certain respects, sacrificed more for the country than any one
since the Young Irelanders ruined themselves in 1848. It is in
the recollection of every Irish member, and of all people
capable of understanding anything, that Mr. Parnell valued
Mr. McCarthy's consent to sit in Parliament as one of the
most important accessions he had received. It is painful to
speak of these matters painful that there should seem to be
any necessity to do so ; but when one finds that men who
would be a credit to any cause are attacked in season and out
of season, and when in this business of the convention it is im-
plied that the four gentlemen named are, either directly or in-
directly, parties to a fraud, such particulars must be repeated for
the benefit of all in a way that there can be no mistaking.

A PERTINENT QUESTION.

We reiterate the opinion that there was no honesty in the
squeamishness that affected to think the delegates from abroad
were nobodies. Suppose we went back a little and asked how
could Mr. John Redmond have entered Parliament if the quali-
fication abolished in 1856 were still required ? At that time
before a man could be member for a county he should possess
a freehold estate of 600 a year, and before he could be
member for a city or borough .300 a year. Sir Charles Gavan
Duffy was the person most instrumental in having this condition
put an end to ; it was he who gave the first great impetus to
a movement opening the House of Commons to poor men.
But Sir Charles, then Mr. Duffy, proprietor and editor of The
Nation, could not have entered Parliament because he lacked the
qualification, only that the maternal grandfather of Mr. John
Dillon, M.P., conveyed to him the necessary estate and title

1 897.] AFTER THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. 519

deeds. In doing this the grantor incurred the risk of losing
his property ; for there was nothing to prevent Mr. Duffy from
closing upon it. He held the conveyance of the estate and the
title deeds which disclosed his grantor's right to execute it.

Very possibly numbers of Irishmen who subscribed their
dollars in this country and in Canada, who gave their money
in Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa, recollected the
time when Irish members of Parliament spent upon their
elections large sums of money out of their own pockets or from
those of their friends ; remembered that in their earlier days
it was never known that a man offered himself to the pub-
lic service unless he was able to defray all expenses con-
nected with it. The Repeal Rent is not in point ; because
O'Connell and his fellow-members possessed property qualifi-
cation and had spent their resources on contests in the early
days of the Repeal agitation, and to a large extent on con-
tests to the very end of it. Moreover, at that time a contest
for a county would cost as many thousands as one would hun-
dreds now. The times, so favorable to. poor men possessing
talent and public spirit, in which we now live were reached by
a journey of trial and suffering greater than any people ever
passed through. Famine after, famine, culminating in the awful
visitation beginning in 1845 an< ^ ending in 1850-51, expresses
the result of the policy under which government in Ireland was
carried on. Estates were cleared of the occupiers with such
effectiveness that Mr. Bright, visiting the country in 1849 anc ^
again in 1851, declared that "it looked as if it had been devas-
tated by a great war." The Times, rendered fair-minded for a
moment by accounts of how the public conscience of Europe
was shocked, expressed its opinion that property in Ireland
"was ruled with most savage and tyrannical sway. The land-
lords there exercise their rights with a hand of iron and neglect
their duties with a front of brass." It soon awoke to its natural
state of hatred of the Irish people when the census of 1851
showed that the population had fallen two millions* and sounded
the note of triumph " The Celts are gone with a vengeance ! '
Little did it know the indestructable vitality of that people.
It was the same ignorance as that displayed by the councillors
of Elizabeth who reckoned on winning a new England by those
wars of extermination in which Mountjoy and Carew were

*The exact figures of each census are, for 1841, 8,196,597, and for 1851, 6,574,279; but it
has been ascertained with reasonable certainty that the population had in 1845 risen to more
than eight millions and a half.

520 AFTER THE CONVENTION OF THE IRISH RACE. [Jan.,

leading spirits, which the latter describes with the formality
of a vivisector, and whose effects the poet Spenser witnessed
in " anatomies of death ' he saw creeping on all-fours from
wood and glen to feed on carcases that the wolf and fox had
turned from. They are not gone those Celts between two and
three thousand representatives of the race proved it the other
day !

RESPONSIBILITY OF THE DELEGATES.

And these delegates have assumed responsibilities which
they cannot allow to sleep. It is immaterial whether they live
at home under the pressure of evil times and such a pressure
is sure to assume an ominous form on account of the badness
of the harvest which has just passed * -or live in distant lands to
which like pressure forced them with that wrenching of the
heart which only the exile feels ; they stand between the past
and the future as the guardians of all that the name of Ire-
land means her immortal youth, her imperishable hopes, her
inexpiable wrongs.

They cannot lay down these responsibilities until the cause
has triumphed. They acted history in those days of the first
week of September, they now belong to Ireland and to fame.
They are raised above local surroundings, they stand in the
dignity of a high purpose, they are clothed with a memory the
future will not let die. They must see Ireland in their hopes
taking her place among the nations ; the love of her must be a
power to inspire them to generous deeds and to thoughts holy
in their justice and wisdom ; her image must possess them as
it did her greatest son when in the last hour of her freedom,
but with invincible belief in her destiny, he said to her:

" Thou art not conquered ; beauty's ensign yet
Is on thy lips and on thy cheek,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there."

* Notwithstanding the land code, in which we include Mr. Gerald Balfour's act of last
session, we do not hesitate to say that so far as half the number of tenants are concerned for
whom this legislation was originally intended that is, those tenants whose condition was the
essence of its policy it is of no benefit. This sounds strange after hearing of the quarrels
among Irish members, but we say half of the tenants are at this moment, or may be at any
moment later on owing to the bad harvest and the wretched prices for live stock, in the same
position as if no land act had been ever passed. In a note in the North American Review for
February, 1891, a statement with regard to this and other features of Irish land legislation
made by Mr. Lecky in a previous number was corrected in a way to show the shortcomings
of that act. The recent legislation has in no sense improved it in those important particulars.

1 897.]

A SPIRITUAL ULTIMA THULE.

521

A SPIRITUAL ULTIMA THULE.

BY REV. A. P. DOYLE.

HAVE just returned from Chincoteague Island,
Va. It is only when one is able to sit down and
mark the contrasts between the intense activities
of daily life in. our great Northern metropolis
and the quiet, simple, happy-go-lucky existence
of the homely oystermen of Chincoteague that one is able to
really appreciate the delights of a
short stay in a place where there
is no mad-rushing, loud-creaking,
and heavy-snorting elevated rail-
road trains, no hoarse cries from
leather-lunged hucksters, no signs
of strained vitality on the faces
of the inhabitants, no apparent
care whether school keeps or not.
Chincoteague Island is off the
Eastern Shore, some six miles from
the mainland, and it belongs geo-
graphically to Accomack County,
Virginia. But in reality it belongs
to no one but itself. The Chin-
coteaguer is a law unto himself,
and as long as he minds his own
business the birds of the air or
the fishes of the sea are not pos-
sessed of more liberty than he is.
He wants but little here below,
and he gets that little in the shape
of the juicy oyster from the gener-
ous sea. He has no difficult social
problems to solve. He learns with
supreme indifference of the corrup-
tion of city politics and the bood-
ling of city aldermen. He has long
ago changed all that by having no municipality at all. Al-
though on an island something of the shape of Manhattan
Island, but about one-half as large, there are nearly three
thousand people, yet there is no mayor or any ruling power

HE HAS NO DIFFICULT SOCIAL
PROBLEMS TO SOLVE."

522

A SPIRITUAL ULTIMA THULE.

[Jan.,

but the " deestrict ' constable, and he is more than half the
time out of a job ; there is no street-cleaning department, for
the tide comes in every day and washes clean the only

"THE HOUSES ARE NOT VERY PRETENTIOUS."

street that runs between the houses and the water ; there
is no comptroller's office, for there is no money to handle
the Chincoteaguer never has any taxes to pay ; there is no
street urchin to shout out the daily News, for there is not a
printing-press on the island. Though there are none of the re-
sources of civilization on the island, still I would venture to
say that there is more solid happiness to the acre on Chinco-
teague than can be found in most any other place in the coun-
try. The sweet tones of the church bell divides with the lap-
ping of the waves on the shell-strewn beach the office of break-
ing the monotony of the long evening while the native " hangs
round ' swapping stories and smoking his short pipe till the
earlv bed claims him for rest. Even the tremendous wave of

1 897.] A SPIRITUAL ULTIMA THULE. 523

politics that has swept over the rest of the country has left
him undisturbed. If the financial problem were left to the six
hundred registered voters on the island, it would be easily set-
tled without any very great expenditure of oratory, for, as one
of them remarked, " We never see any gold down here, and
never expect to." It would be safe to venture the assertion
that there are not two gold-pieces in the whole place. The
postmaster showed me one as a thing of great curiosity, and it
probably could not be matched in the community.

A witty parish priest once asked what kind of a parish had
he, replied that he could best tell by saying that there was not
a piano in the place. There was one piano on Chincoteague ;
I saw it. It was in the possession of a runner from Baltimore,
and he was trying to dispose of it with what success the future
alone will reveal.

To sketch a mental picture of Chincoteague : imagine a low-
lying sand-bar half a mile wide ; one side protected from the
ocean by the somewhat elevated and heavily-wooded -promontory
Assateague, and on the other side by one of those wide bays, run-
ning parallel with the ocean, so well known on the Atlantic
coast. On the bay side, and skirting the shore, is the only
street, on Avhich the people live, move, and have their being.
It must have been laid out in ye olden time before the new-
fangled prohibition ideas invaded the place. It is quite certain
that no surveyor's theodolite ever marked the line on which
the houses are built. Some of the more important houses, like
the hotel and the Red Men's Hall, are pretentious in their
architecture, but the majority of them were built on the style
not uncommonly known as carpenter's gothic. Some few of
the houses were painted and surrounded by neat gardens, but
most of them were innocent of any decoration. One house
particularly we noticed was surmounted by high-reaching light-
ning-rods and surrounded by a very strong fence, but over the
gateway was painted, in very large letters, " In God we trust."

Our business on the island was to give a non-Catholic mis-
sion. History does not record any positive effort made during
the past fifty years to establish any Catholic church there, and
the memory of the "oldest residenter ' recalls only two or
three visits made by a priest in any official capacity. Of
course among the three thousand people there were no Catho-
lics at all. Report had it, however, that two or three had
been Catholics, and had fallen away. The last visit of a priest
to the island was three years ago. Surely here was virgin soil
into which it was given to us to sow the seeds of Catholic truth.

524

A SPIRITUAL ULTIMA THULE.

[Jan.,

"IT WAS CHEERING TO SEE WITH WHAT AVIDITY THESE SIMPLE FOLK DRANK IT ALL IN."

As we took up our quarters in the hotel, kept by Captain
Mathews, we introduced ourselves (there were two of us) as
Catholic priests and announced our intention of calling the peo-
ple together to preach the truths of the Catholic faith. Before
our coming there had been little or no announcement of our
purpose. We secured the Red Men's Hall, the largest in the
place, and hired a colored boy to put up posters announcing
the fact that there would be preaching there by two Catholic
priests for three nights. We then kept ourselves very much in
evidence during the rest of the afternoon, by parading up and
down the main street, meeting some of the storekeepers, talk-

1897.] A SPIRITUAL ULTIMA THULE, 525

ing " shop ' with the oystermen, and inviting all we Came in
contact with to come to the meeting at night.

It was evident that in the beginning we were a puzzle to
some of the matter-of-fact folk. If we had charged an admis-
sion fee, our purpose would have been easily comprehended ;
we would have been classed among the second and third rate
shows that float into these out-of-the-way places. But why two
men should come from afar, paying all expense's, renting a hall,
living at the hotel, and hoping to get nothing in return this
they could not see through. I believe it was this, far more
than anything we said or any tract we gave away, that made
the deepest impression on the people.

The first night, whether it was we were not sufficiently ad-
vertised or whether, being strangers, they were a little suspi-
cious of us, our hall was not filled ; and they who were there
were, with only two or three exceptions, men and growing
boys. Why the women absented themselves did not reveal
itself till the next day, when we were asked on all sides if,
women were allowed to come in. Some very wide-spread im-
pression prevailed that only men would be admitted.

But to the crowd that did come we preached with all the
force of earnestness we possessed. We told them of the soul
and its importance, and that life was more than meat ; and of
the God-man dying to save sinners ; and it was cheering to see
with what avidity these simple folk drank it all in. Even the
boys, who were stretched out on the back benches eating pea4
nuts, rose up on their elbows as the preacher warmed up, for-j
got their munching, and listened with the greatest attention.'
What a tremendous dramatic power there is in the oft-repeated
story of the redemption !

We had a good opportunity to study the varying phases of
human nature. The men before us were, with scarcely an ex-
ception, men who spent their lives on the water, made their
living out of the generosity of the sea. I believe that living
so close to the heart of nature, surrounded by a vast ex-
panse of sea and sky, and being dependent on the bounties of
tide and wave, does develop the religious nature in a man.
This may be one reason why our Lord selected his apostles
from among fishermen. Anyhow, as these hardy men, with
their peaked faces, and leathery skin, and lanky necks, and
shoulders rounded as a spoon as they listened a new ex-
pression came into their countenance and a new light into
their eye that seemed to transform them, and so eager was
their look and so intent their gaze that it was quite evident
VOL. LXIV. 34

526

A SPIRITUAL ULTIMA THULE.

[Jan.,

that they were interested as never before. When the sermon
was over they were loath to go ; they gladly took the litera-
ture we had to give away, and left us intending to come
again. We felt that we had secured an audience.

As usual, we placed in evidence the question-box, and as
the interest in our work developed we found that even in
this out-of-the-way place the human heart had not been un-
vexed by the deep questions of the soul. Many of the in_
quiries touched on the teaching of the church in regard to the
next world, particularly the doctrine of purgatory. It seems
passing strange that the idea of a place of purification has
lodged itself so firmly in the non-Catholic mind when the ten-
dency of all religious teaching outside the church has been to
ignore it. The testimony of the question-box at all these mis-
sions is that the religious mind, in spite of adverse teaching,
has convinced itself of the existence of such a place, and wants
to know what Scriptural reasons there are for it. The same

" SEARLE'S 'PLAIN FACTS' WERE READ AT HOME WITH GREATEST INTEREST."

may be said of an official tribunal for the forgiveness of sin.
There is no more universal fact than the existence of sin.
That a man feels that he is a sinner is the very soil in which
the seed of religion takes root. When a man becomes con-

1 897.] A SPIRITUAL ULTIMA THULE. 527

vinced that he is sinful, his next idea is how can he be made
clean ; so the universal religious mind is sure that there must
be a God-given way of absolution from sin, or the work of a
redeeming God is incomplete. It is because the strong com-
mon sense of the religious mind has got thus far in its reason-
ing that so often is asked the questions, How does a man
claim to forgive sin ? What reason have you for the confes-
sional ? etc.

We were much entertained by the question of a one-
armed Jew peddler whom early during our stay we met on
the road with his pack over his shoulder, and whom we after-
wards saw in the audience. We give it in full, warts and all,
even to the peculiar spelling, just as it was dropped into the
question-box :

" Queston. As we have plenty of churches and there was
another one built not long ago, and the people strained them
selves and went in debt for it and we could have made out
very well without it and could have taken that money and
built a nice school building and get a few more good teachers
and learn the children some sence, and how to support a fam-
ily when they grow up to be men, and not to stuff them full
of religeon and such nonsence,

Would it not have bin better to have something in this
town for poor people to make something then to have to go
out in the bay, I do not mean old people but young people
can work in the bay, Let me know how many poor people
have strained themselves to pay for your coming down hear
to preach or stuff us full of catholic foolishness, Take my
advice and look after poor people and help them to make a
living and if that does not take you to heaven Catholicism will
take you to hell."

The poor fellow in his daily trudging over the dusty roads
had spent not a little time turning up and down in his mind
some very important questions of social economy. Anyhow it
gave us an opportunity to tell what a good. mother the church
was, how she looked out for the daily needs of her children
even in things of this world, and with no little emphasis we
asserted that it was a good way to demonstrate her divinity
by showing how she assuages the ills of humanity. The usual
vicious charges against the church appeared here like the
existence of cells under churches, the immuring of nuns, and
the church's opposition to the public schools ; all of which
went very far to show that lies travel with fleet wings, while
steady truth has but a leaden heel. The answers were listened
to with bated breath, and at the close of each evening's dis-

528

A SPIRITUAL ULTIMA THULE.

[Jan.,

course we gave out to all who came copies of Searle's Plain
Facts. These and the tracts were taken home and read with
greatest interest.

Three days did we spend here. Our Mass was said private-
ly every morning in the room we occupied in the hotel. We
placed the altar-stone on the bureau, and, with a towel over the
mirror and the necessities for the Holy Sacrifice in their places,
while one was altar-boy the other celebrated the great mystery.
Though the entourage of the great church with dim religious
light was absent, yet probably a deeper devotion compensated
for the lack of these churchly surroundings.

"THEY CAME FROM NEAR AND FROM FAR TO ATTEND."

The following nights our crowd increased until the closing
service, when even several counter attractions sensational shows
in the main street could not draw our interested people away.
They came from near and from far to attend, and stayed
until the last word was said, and shook us warmly by the hand
as we departed.

A peculiar settlement at one end of the island, of what
was known as the " Sanctified People," interested us much.
It was one of the many vagaries of the Protestant theory
of grace to imagine that the Lord had so taken hold of

i8 9 7.]

A SPIRITUAL ULTIMA THULE.

529

one that there was no further possibility of falling from his
friendship. It is but a logical step when one begins to think
he can do no wrong to persuade himself that everything he
does is right. The class of people that settled here had come
to this state of mind, and under the cloak of religion the worst
vices were rampant ; immorality stalked openly in the streets ;
but when they be-
gan using firearms
and the lives of the
helpless were in
danger, the people
rose up and drove
them out. Old
Marm Jester, who
remembered vividly
the scenes she had
gone through, said
it was far worse
than the " fever 'n'
ager."

Our visit to Chin-
coteague was not
without its results.
It is quite sure that
a better idea of
the true church
was implanted in
the hearts of the
people. With peo-
ple who live a sim-
ple life and have few
distractions ideas re-
ceived are readily
retained. If any attempt should be made by any calumniator
of the church to vomit forth his lies here he will get a very
short shrift from these folk. They have learned what the truth
is and it will be no easy matter to disabuse them of their
well-grounded notions. Whether converts will be made will
depend largely on the possibility of future work.

IT WAS FAR WORSE THAN THE FEVER

ACER.'

530 RATIONALISM ENTHRONED AT CANTERBURY. [Jan.,

RATIONALISM ENTHRONED AT CANTERBURY.

BY JESSE ALBERT LOCKE.

ORD SALISBURY, in the exercise of his pre-
rogative as prime minister, has just given a
new head to the Anglican Church. The ap-
pointment is an interesting one. A High-Church
weekly complained recently that the appoint-
ment of Anglican bishops generally meant the elevation of
''innocuous mediocrity." The choice, dependent in England
on political favor and in the Episcopal Church in this country
on compromise between clashing parties, is apt to fall (so this
authority stated) on some " safe ' and moderate man, not too-
High Church, not too Low. If that be so, the present instance
is an exception to the rule ; for Dr. Temple, the new Arch-
bishop of Canterbury, is a man conspicuous for ability and
force of character.

Then, too, in view of the strenuous and persistent efforts of
Lord Halifax and other amiable gentlemen to persuade the
Holy Father and the Roman Commission on Anglican Orders
that the Church of England holds and teaches the Catholic
faith, it becomes of more than passing interest to learn what
conception of theology and the nature of the Christian Church
is represented by this new archbishop, whose office is already
beginning to be looked upon by many of his flock as a sort of
Anglican Papacy.

The Archbishop of Canterbury in the Established Church of
England holds a position of legal importance both in civil and
ecclesiastical affairs. He is regarded as the first officer of
the crown, and takes precedence directly' after the royal family
at all social and state functions. In Catholic days the arch-
bishop (who is still styled the " Primate of all England ") was
also the Papal legate, and Henry VIII. transferred to the
jurisdiction of the Protestant primates some of the matrimonial
and other cases formerly sent to Rome. At present, when a
vacancy occurs in the see, the prime minister selects a candi-
date (of whom Her Majesty always " graciously approves "), and
then the queen issues to the dean and chapter of the cathedral
church a conge' d'c'lire, naming the candidate to be elected. The

1897.] RATIONALISM ENTHRONED AT CANTERBURY. 531

dean and chapter meet, pray for guidance, and then solemnly
go through the empty form of a free election. If they dared
to elect another than him whom Her Majesty has been pleased
to name to them, they would become liable to imprisonment
and deprivation, and, it is needless to say, they never brave
such a fate.

BRIEF SKETCH OF DR. TEMPLE'S LIFE.

Frederick Temple, born in 1821, is the son of Major Temple,
formerly lieutenant-governor of Sierra Leone. He graduated
with honors from Balliol College, Oxford, in 1842, and was or-
dained in 1846. In 1858 he became head-master of Rugby. In
1868 he took an active part in the support of Mr. Gladstone's
measure for the disestablishment of the Protestant Church in
Ireland. This brought him into political favor, and the follow-
ing year Gladstone made him Bishop of Exeter. In 1885 he
became Bishop of London, and now he has been transferred
from that position to the more important one at Canterbury.
As Bishop of London he has been very pleasing to the High
Churchmen. Though not believing at all himself in their
teaching or practices, he looks upon a national church as an
institution which should be comprehensive, including varied
forms and beliefs, and so he has not harried the Ritualists for
their infringements of the legal limits of ceremonial, as some
of his predecessors did.

PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS.

His personality is a strong one, and those who come in
contact with him officially are conscious of a vigor and energy
which bring him some criticism as well as praise. He is ac-
cused of being too brusque. A recent writer in the Saturday
Review complains that his training at Rugby, where he " bul-
lied and birched at his pleasure," has led him to treat his
clergy " like fourth-form boys when these are interviewed in
the head-master's study." He grants him, however, one strong
virtue : " Everybody knows that the archbishop-designate has
the courage of his opinions."

There are certainly many things about him which all must
admire. He has been for twenty-five years a consistent advo-
cate of temperance and a total abstainer. He evidently has a
strong sense of justice and fair-play, or he would not have
thrown himself with enthusiasm (and contrary to the example
of nearly all the other Anglican clergymen of the time) into

532 RATIONALISM ENTHRONED AT CANTERBURY. [Jan.,

the struggle to free Ireland from the incubus of a Protestant
Establishment which represented such a ridiculously small frac-
tion of the people. As Bishop of London he has shown great
energy, visiting each corner of his diocese and making stirring
addresses on foreign missions, temperance, and church reform.
He handled the latter subject without gloves in an address at
Enfield in October last. ' He spoke first of the scandal of the
possession by private persons as private property of the right
of next presentation to livings. In the case of about half the
livings in the Church of England the right of presentation is
frequently in the market for sale. Other points of church re-
form for which he contended were, that it should be easier to
remove incompetent clergymen from their cures, that the laity
should have a voice in the appointment of their pastors, and
that the laity should have some control of the services. The
clergy were too autocratic, and they should not be able to
make changes in the services of which the parishioners did not

approve.

ARCHBISHOP TEMPLE'S THEOLOGY.

But let us pass to a higher sphere, to the thing of chief
importance. What sort of theology has been enthroned at
Canterbury ? What idea of religion does he hold and teach
who now occupies what Anglicans like to call " the chair of St.
Augustine"? Fortunately for our inquiry Dr. Temple's views
on religion are easily accessible. He was the first essayist in a
volume published in 1861 and entitled Essays and Reviews.
This book was the signal for a blaze of controversy. Its
authors were clergymen of the Church of England, and its
teaching was the frankest, boldest rationalism, which emascu-
lated religion of the supernatural and reduced it to a purely
humanitarian basis. Orthodox, Evangelical Protestants pious
but illogical were deeply shocked. A few quotations will give
an idea of what the essayists taught on some important sub-
jects.

THE ULTIMATE BASIS FOR RELIGION.

Dr. Temple, in his opening essay, " The Education of the
World," plants himself squarely on that fundamental Protestant
principle of which rationalism is the necessary and legitimate
fruit. The ultimate basis for religion, he claims, is to be found
only in that "inner voice' which should guide every man.
There is nothing external which can be an authority over him.
The Bible is not such an authority ; neither is the church.

1897-] RATIONALISM ENTHRONED AT CANTERBURY. 533

"The Bible," he says, "in fact is hindered by its form from
exercising a despotism over the human spirit. . . . This it
does by the principle of private judgment which puts con-
science between us and the Bible, making conscience the su-
preme interpreter, whom it may be a duty to enlighten, but
whom it can never be a duty to disobey ' (Essays and Reviews,
p. 53). Again: " When conscience and the Bible appear to
differ, the pious Christian immediately concludes that he has
not really understood the Bible." That is, his private judgment
is certainly right and the Bible must be made to conform to
it ! This reduces religion to the purest individualism ; makes
as many different religions as there are individuals to hold
them. And all are equally right ! Suppose this principle ap-
plied to the law of the land, each man assuming that the law
had no other interpreter than his own " inner voice " !

INSPIRATION.

After this impugning of Scripture as an authority, the de-
scent is easy to the views of inspiration and prophecy put
forth in the succeeding essays. In the fourth essay we find
this position taken: "The word of God is contained in Scrip-
ture, whence it does not follow that it is co-extensive with it.
The church to- which we belong does not put that stumbling-
block before the feet of her members' (p. 211). Again: "It
has been matter of great boast with the Church of England,
in common with other Protestant churches, that it is founded
upon the ' Word of God,' a phrase which begs many a question
when applied collectively to the books of the Old and New
Testaments, a phrase which is never so applied to them by
any of the Scriptural authors, and which, according to Protes-
tant principles, never could be applied to them by any suffi-
cient authority from without. . . . Even if the Fathers have
usually considered ' canonical ' synonymous with * miraculously
inspired,' there is nothing to show that their sense of the word
must necessarily be applied in our own Sixth Article." Dr.
Rowland Williams, in the second essay, considers it absurd to
speak of the sacred writers (" who were not passionless ma-
chines ") as "inspired," and then to refuse that title to Luther
and Milton.

PROPHECY.

In the same essay (on " Bunsen's Biblical Researches ") the
main purpose is a rationalistic explaining away of the Messianic

534 RATIONALISM ENTHRONED AT CANTERBURY. [Jan.,

i
prophecies. It is a " distortion of prophecy ' to apply the

familiar Messianic passages in Isaias to Christ. The " man of
grief," the "rejected of his people," do not apply to Christ but
to some contemporaneous Jewish hero or deliverer, or perhaps
to collective Israel.

DOGMA AND THE CHURCH.

Naturally enough, writers who take their stand upon individu-
alism try to belittle the importance of theology, and to them,
of course, the church is not a divine but a purely human institu-
tion. Dr. Temple tells us that it seemed at first as if the study
of theology were to return with the Reformation, but fortu-
nately an era of 'toleration commenced instead, the tendency
of which is " to modify the early dogmatism by substituting
the spirit for the letter and practical religion for precise definitions
of truth. This lesson is certainly not yet fully learnt' (p. 51).
This idea is still more fully expanded by the fourth essayist,
whose subject is "The National Church."

"Jesus Christ has not revealed his religion as a theology of
the intellect, nor as an historical faith, and it is a stifling of
the true Christian life, both in the individual and the church,
to require of many men a unanimity in speculative doctrine
which is unattainable, and a uniformity of historical belief
which can never exist ' (p. 246). The author thinks that a na-
tional church should include all the people of a country who
are born into their membership in the church as they are
into their civil rights, and that the church, therefore, should
be concerned chiefly with the ethical development of its mem-
bers, requiring no doctrinal tests of clergy or laity.

THE SACRAMENTS AND THE PRIESTHOOD.

The sacraments, as means of grace, and the priesthood, as
anything more than of human appointment, naturally go down
in this wholesale dismantling of the supernatural. As to bap-
tism : " The first Christians held that the heart was purified by
faith ; the accompanying symbol, water, became by degrees the
instrument of purification. Holy Baptism was preceded at first
by a vow in which the young soldier expressed his conscious-
ness of spiritual truth; but, when it became twisted into a false
analogy with circumcision, the rite degenerated into a magical
form and the Augustinian notion of a curse inherited by infants
was developed in connection with it ' (p. 102). As to the
priesthood : " Priesthoods have always been products. ...

1897-] RATIONALISM ENTHRONED AT CANTERBURY. 535

If all priests and ministers of religion could at one moment be
swept from the face of the earth, they would soon be repro-
duced ' (p. 203).

These are the views of religion for which the new arch-
bishop stands. There was the usual statement in the preface
that each essayist was responsible only for his own essay. But
they are all in substantial agreement, all take the same ration-
alistic point of view, and their association, of course, was the
result of choice, not chance. Moreover, neither in the storm
of denunciation which greeted the first publication, nor at any
time subsequently, did Dr. Temple repudiate the teaching of
this book. On the contrary, when his appointment as Bishop
of Exeter was challenged on account of these heretical opinions,
he still stood by them. The quotations given here are taken
from the twelfth edition of Essays and Reviews, which, as pub-
lished eight years after the first, amounts to a reiteration of
belief.

THE BAMPTON LECTURES.

At a still later date, 1884, ne gave utterance in his Bampton
Lectures to ideas even more sweepingly destructive of super-
natural religion. His view of our Lord's life on earth is purely
humanitarian. Christ is the " Leader," the " Master," the great
example, but nothing is said of his priesthood or sacrifice.
The voice within commands us to believe that good is supreme
over evil. " To obey this command and to believe this truth
is Faith. This is the Faith which supplies perpetual strength
to the hope of immortality."

MIRACLES.

As to miracles, those of the Old Testament, he tells us,
could never be proved. " The times are remote ; the date and
authorship of the books are not established with certainty ; the
mixture of poetry with history is no longer capable of any sure
separation into its parts ' (p. 206). In the New Testament, he
adds, we must admit that some unusual occurrences took place
which struck the disciples and other observers as miracles, though
they need not necessarily have been miracles " in the scienti-
fic sense." " For instance, the miraculous healing of the sick
may be no miracle in the strictest sense at all. It may be but
an instance of the power of mind over body, a power which is
undeniably not yet brought within the range of science, and
which nevertheless may be really within its domain' (p. 195).

536 RATIONALISM ENTHRONED AT CANTERBURY. [Jan.,

Our Lord's miracles of healing may have been simply the result
of this power and " due to a superiority in his mental power to
the similar power possessed by other men. Men seem to pos-
se'ss this power over their own bodies and over the bodies of
others in different degrees' (p. 201). Even our Lord's resur-
rection from the dead is reached by this destructive criticism.
" Thus, for instance, it is quite possible that our Lord's resur-
rection may be found hereafter to be no miracle at all in the
scientific sense. It foreshadows and begins the general resur-
rection ; when that general resurrection comes we may find that
it is, after all, the natural issue of physical laws always at
work ' (p. 196).

GUI BONO?

If we ask, What, then, can be the object of miracles? Dr.
Temple has his answer ready. If these events, though not
really miraculous, have " served their purpose, if they have ar-
rested attention which would not otherwise have been arrested,
if they have compelled belief," then they have accomplished
their true end. In other words, they were " pious frauds ' im-
pressing a people naturally credulous and easily deceived as
the best way of conveying ethical truth to them. The Protes-
tant tradition persists in giving to the Society of Jesus the
possession of " The end justifies the means ' as a principle of
conduct, but Dr. Temple goes farther still and carries the
charge back from His faithful servants to the great Master
Himself!

He is almost as hazy as was Charles Kingsley concerning
the personality of God and in his reluctance to admit the pos-
sibility of a true miracle, as well as in his view of the province
of prayer ; he ascribes to nature an immutability which seems
to make it independent even of God. " The prayer to the
fetich for rain is as contrary to true religion as it is contrary
to true science ' (p. 131). By parity of reasoning the Christian's
prayer for rain is equally contrary to true science.

REUNION WITH ROME.

Suppose, now, his Grace of Canterbury to become possessed
of Lord Halifax's kindly hobby and, fired with zeal for the
reunion of Anglicanism with Rome, to seek, like the noble
lord just named, an interview with the Pope. Leo XIII. does
his expected guest the compliment of perusing his published
works beforehand.

1 897.] RATIONALISM ENTHRONED AT CANTERBURY. 537

"Are you really," he asks of Dr. Temple, "the head of the
same church to which Lord Halifax belongs?'

" Most certainly."

" But perhaps these opinions of yours are personal ones
which your church would condemn ? '

Dr. Temple hastens to enlighten him : " On the contrary,
not only have I, holding these opinions, been elevated to
the highest office which my church can give, but twice has the
Church of England been formally asked to condemn these
views as contrary to her doctrine and teaching, and twice has
she, through her highest courts, refused to do so."

"Strange," muses the Holy Father, "that the noble lord
who is in communion with such heretics can fancy himself a
Catholic ! To condone and allow errors such as these is simply
to destroy the Christian religion."

Dr. Temple departs, disappointed and unable to see why
the Pope cannot give him the right hand of fellowship, agree
to disagree > and live in full communion all the same. Anglicans
are willing to do that sort of thing.

BISHOP WILBERFORCE AS A PROPHET.

In a preface to a volume of essays which appeared in
answer to Essays and Reviews, Bishop Wilberforce became a
prophet, prophesying more truly than he realized himself. The
false doctrine of Essays and Reviews, said the bishop, must be
condemned promptly by authority as not allowable for any
honest man to hold and teach in the Church of England.
This was absolutely necessary " to prevent the very idea of
truth, as truth, dying out amongst .us. For so indeed it must
do if once it be permitted to our clergy solemnly to engage to
teach as the truth of God a certain set of doctrines and at
the same time to discuss whether they are true or false." But
authority, when it did act, took just the opposite course. It
was sought to have the more heretical propositions of Essays
and Reviews condemned by the ecclesiastical courts as incon-
sistent with the doctrines of the Church of England, but the
verdict declared each and all of the charges unsustained.

Again, when Dr. Temple was appointed Bishop of Exeter
his election was challenged on the same ground, but after
counsel on both sides had been heard the election was un-
hesitatingly confirmed. In the Gorham judgment the highest
courts declared that a clergyman of the Church of England
might publicly deny the doctrine of baptismal regeneration ; or

538 RATIONALISM ENTHRONED AT CANTERBURY. [Jan.,

he might teach it if he so wished. In the case of Sheppard
vs. Bennett the decision was given that a clergyman might
preach the doctrine of the Real Presence or he might deny it,
just as he happened to choose.

THE AGNOSTIC OUTCOME OF ANGLICANISM.

So the very result that Bishop Wilberforce feared has
come to pass. It has been formally decided that absolute con-
tradictories, truth and non-truth, may both be taught with
equal authority in the Church of England; and such is the
actual case to-day. So also is the bishop's prophecy being ful-
filled ; "the very idea of truth as truth' has largely died out
amongst Anglicans. It is the fashion to denounce the earlier
Evangelicals because they persecuted the Ritualists. But if
they were honest men believing that they had the truth, what
else could .they do but " persecute ' -i. e., try to drive out
soul-destroying errors from their church ? What has happened
to their successors, the " Neo-Evangelicals " ? Finding that they
could not drive out the Ritualists, and that continual fighting
was both unpopular and tiresome, they gave up the attempt
and adopted of themselves boy-choirs and some of the other
pretty things of ritualism. But they dropped the warfare only
to fall back into latitudinarian indifference. It may produce
peace to feel that it does not matter much whether one thing
be taught or another, but it just as certainly produces also a
blunted sense of truth and of the importance of a right faith.

The Ritualist, in his young enthusiasm, often starts out to
be a David who, with sling and stone, will destroy all the
heretical enemies of the Lord. But he finds that those who
deny what he considers to be of faith cannot be driven out of
his church, and insensibly he loses the keenness of his zeal for
truth, looks on unmoved while the most tremendous heresies
are broached all about him, and hobnobs most amicably on
ecclesiastical and other occasions with those who deny nearly
all that he holds dear. Anglicanism as a system tends to de-
stroy the sense of the immutability of truth. Ritualists claim
that the Thirty-nine Articles " need not necessarily have a Pro-
testant sense." The Rationalists claim (as in a quotation al-
ready given above) that they need not necessarily have an
orthodox sense. And so both live together in the same com-
munion, juggling with words the one affirming, the other de-
nying and both possessed of equal official authority. It is
not, as the High Churchmen would fain persuade themselves

1897.] RATIONALISM ENTHRONED AT CANTERBURY. 539

and others, " simply a lack of discipline." What their new
archbishop teaches is destructively anti-Christian ; but he is not
defying the authority of his church, for she has twice formally
allowed his teaching.

The High-Anglican loss of a keen sensitiveness to doctrinal
truth is well illustrated by two recent examples. First, by Mr.
Gladstone's naive proposal that policy, not truth, should guide
the decision on Anglican orders. Breathing the Anglican air
of mutual toleration of truth and error, he was unable to per-
ceive the preposterousness of making such a suggestion to the
Holy See. Not long since one of the most widely known
Ritualistic clergymen in England said to a friend of the writer's,
" I believe all that you Roman Catholics do except one thing
-the infallibility of the Pope. But as to that, I consider it
unimportant whether it be true or not." The doctrine of the
infallibility may be true or it may be false, but conceive the
idea of truth one must have to say that it is unimportant
whether such a doctrine be true or not true !

The negative result, the agnostic death of faith which the
opposing sects of the Protestant world are producing in the
modern mind by their contradictory assertion and denial of
positive doctrines this equation equalling zero is more, vivid-
ly represented within the Anglican communion than anywhere
else, for there the opposing forces are in closer juxtaposition
and the end is, if possible, more logically certain.

540 TINKERING THE RAINES LIQUOR LAW. [Jan.,

TINKERING THE RAINES LIQUOR LAW.

BY ROBERT J. MAHON.

T best the control, by legislation, of a numerically
large portion of the commonwealth is beset with
difficulties. It requires a degree of foresight and
an exercise of wisdom not commonly found in
the average statute-maker. Even when devised
and guided by earnest and able statesmen, it is at most an at-
tempt to forestall the ingenuity, craft, and evasion of those
whose interests or pleasures are directly affected. Touching the
Liquor Tax Law of New York, the difficulties of the subject
matter do not seem to be so numerically important as they
are serious and harmful in result.

Perhaps no fairer test of the comparative merits of the old
excise statute and the new is available than the actual opera-
tion of both. Tried by this test, it is apparent that the law
so bravely heralded as rigorous and severe has been proven by
actual results to be the most deceptive weakling within the
general legislative experience. All competent observers of the
working of the two statutes are fairly unanimous in the opinion
that the old law, as enforced by the Roosevelt regime, showed
far better results than can now be credited to the Liquor Tax
Law. Then Sunday closing was the feature, while at present
open general traffic is the special result. Though some saloon-
keepers close during the prohibited time, their obedience to
the professed spirit of the law is scarcely noticeable in view
of the deplorable results from the open saloons. Again, the
indirect opportunities for the viciously inclined, left open under
the express provisions, or rather " definitions," of the liquor
law, is a gross menace to the public order. Tacking to a
liquor regulation a privilege to the proprietor who annexes
sleeping-rooms to his saloon is not calculated to increase urban
virtue. On the whole, it is serious matter for regret that the
measure for which so much was promised has proven so dan-
gerous and disappointing in its actual results. The prediction
that it would bear hard on the more disreputable part of the
liquor trade has not come to pass ; and it has in it a grain of
mercy, if not of tenderness, capable of wide development. It

1 897.] TINKERING THE RAINES LIQUOR LAW. 541

is even said that the brewing and wholesale liquor trade ex-
pressly favor it as beneficial to their interest that the busi-
ness is taken " out of politics." But there will be no surprise
in well-informed circles should it be developed that " politics,"
so called, are constantly in touch with it.

Of course no one will deny that the requirements as to
exposure of interiors of saloons, high taxation, and other good
features deserve commendation. But we seriously urge the
point that good features are unavailing if the main feature be
harmful. In effect, the new law has proven to be rather in
aid of Sunday opening, and with annexed opportunities for
immorality.

These views are based on the assumption that the liquor
law has been reasonably well tested by enforcement. Whether
it has been fairly and actually enforced is another matter. But
citizens interested in civic improvement do not care much whether
the blame lies with its legislative, executive, or judicial officers.
The main desire is to eradicate the fault, and incidentally to
mete out something for the derelict official. However, the
one impression of the people is, that the sham clubs and hotels
attached to saloons for Sunday traffic deceive none but those
in official life.

The Senate Committee recently sitting in the metropolis has
witnessed a pitiable condition of official lethargy in some de-
partments. Magistrates have told how they transferred, without
action, plain cases of violation to some other official. Building
department men have confessed that they did not inspect sham
hotels, though so required to do by express statute ; they had so
much else to do. Grand juries have indicted and their indict-
ments have proven weakly ineffective. In fact, the general of-
ficial desire to shove responsibility in other directions has been
so generally prevalent that it warrants the doubt whether an hon-
est concerted effort has been made to enforce the statute. When
magistrates shunt plain violations to other officials equally will-
ing to do further shunting ; when prosecutors draw indictments
that do not fit the crime, or the evidence of it ; nonchalantly
take a haphazard jury and try the case perfunctorily to an
acquittal ; when building supervisors wholly fail to inspect that
which is notoriously apparent ; there is at least reasonable
ground for doubt as to enforcement.

The present situation is somewhat a controversy between
the author or authors of the law and the administrators,
whether the chief fault lies in the law or in its defective en-
VOL. LXIV. 35

54 2 TINKERING THE RAINES LIQUOR AW. [Jan.

forcement ? Police officials seem to have done their utmost,
but have been foiled in their efforts by the courts. Careful
observers, who look below the mere surface of affairs, drop
a shrewd hint that the blame should be divided. And if we
should hazard this opinion, the many amendments suggested
by a' variety of experts will fall short of the desired cure.
Multiplicity of, or accuracy in, definitions will not prod official
lethargy into action. It would be only another sad illustration
of a statute striving for automatic enforcement.

Some changes, of course, will have to be made. The pres-
ent condition is a mockery of the self-governing power of the
commonwealth ; and public opinion demands some amendment.
It is likely that more rooms will have to be added to saloons
before they can be dubbed " hotels"; and actual club-houses
may have to omit dispensing liquor on Sundays. The theory
that clubs are " homes ' will probably be abolished by express
legislation. The extent of these changes will show whether
Sunday closing is sincerely intended. The ten-room " hotel ' is
a point in the statute that has developed much suspicion as to-
the earnestness of the law as a reform measure, and as to the
credulity of the average senator. As to other changes, the
removal of all partitions in saloons and kindred features, they
are so plainly decent as to make unnecessary legislative delib-
eration, in or out of committee.

One feature of the statute has won many admirers among
that growing class taught by experience to avoid slow-moving
officials. That is the civil remedy by injunction to restrain
illegal traffic. Yet it is modestly urged that this remedy will
bear extension, in the direction that a suitable fine be re-
covered by civil action by any tax-payer against any official
failing to perform his duty, directly or indirectly affected by
the statute. This would be open to the general disfavor in
which informers and meddlers are held. But individuals or
organizations of good repute and known standing would have
a very available remedy.

/I.

A USEFUL book in view of the vexed question
of a diabolical cult as an offshoot of Freemasonry
is En Route* by J. K. Huysmans. It is evidently
a story of self, using the principal in a romance
as the medium for the disclosure of a struggle be-
tween the soul and the forces of infidelity which girdle and
cruh it back to what it seeks to rise from. Mr. Kegan Paul,
who has translated the work into English, endeavors in his
Introduction to prevent any assumption of this kind, but his
reasoning is not convincing. He cites the case of Sir Walter
Scott, and asks does any reader imagine that the novelist had
any idea of depicting his own character in such a creation ?
The illustration is not relevant. Scott's novels deal chiefly
with strifes very different from those of the mind and intellect.
Those rude struggles of course had their metaphysical and spiri-
tual springs of action, but it was with the outward accidents
of the warfare and its picturesque results that Scott mainly
troubled himself. Religion, no doubt, played an important
part in many of his creations, but only in the way that lime-
light is used in a theatre as an artistic tool or servant. It* is
much more probable that the general belief in the quasi-per-
sonal character of the disclosures in En Route is based upon
the precedents afforded in some of the works of Georges
Sand, George Eliot, Benjamin Disraeli, Byron, and others, who
seemed to have constantly written in front of a mental mirror
reflecting their own lives and inmost thoughts.

Mr. Paul has an apologetic word for English Masonry. He
was in his callow days a Mason himself. This was, of course,
before he joined the Catholic Church. In England Masonry,
he says, and truly says, differs widely from the rite as it is
practised in other countries. He may have no difficulty in
persuading us that there it is more of a social and convivial

* En Route. By J. K. Huysmans. Translated from the French, with a Prefatory Note,
by C. Kegan Paul. London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Triibner & Co.; New York : Benziger
Brothers.

544 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

institution, with a weakness for' baubles and haberdashery, but
he cannot make us forget that it often serves as a cloak for
shocking scandals, and a protection for villany against the out-
stretched hand of justice. Such facts are too well known.

We may say at once that this story of a spiritual conflict
resembles in no particular such a one as the clean-hearted New-
man had to reveal. The conquering, merciless logic with which
he argued his own mind on to the light of ultimate truth
is not to be found here at least under such calm and dispas-
sionate forms. There is logic, no doubt, and irresistible reason-
ing ; but it is French, morbid, fantastic, sometimes horrible in
its forms, mingled with Walpurgis night phantasmagoria.

The temptations which assail the vacillating soul struggling
for emancipation from the fetters of the flesh and the false
world are presented with a frightful vividness. Such pas-
sages are strongly suggestive of the opium-bowl or the absinthe
glass or rather, the reaction from their effects only that we
know that exuberance and hysteria are very often the strong
characteristics of some of the French schools of literature.

In the erudition and the comprehensive survey of the various
types of Catholic Christianity discussed in this work, there is,
however, much that offsets what we must certainly term its
repulsive side. Certain outward manifestations of Catholicism
are objectionable even to Catholics themselves, and one of the
nicest offices of the church is in so adjusting the compass of
religion that its point shall always be in the direction of pure
truth and the way of perfect faith. En Route is a remarkable
book in many ways, but it settles little while it discusses much.
It is a symptom of the moral fever which now rages in France,
more than a piece of philosophy. From the pen of one who
was a Freemason, and therefore a deadly enemy of the church,
it is truly a remarkable piece of testimony to the power of
the spirit over the flesh.

In a new novel, entitled Palladia* we have the first symp-
tom of the reaction from the flood of decadent literature in Eng-
land. It is a novel of action as full of it and startling sensa-
tion as an old-time melodrama of the type called Transpontine.
The writer is a lady who has already won some repute by a
book of a totally different character called The Brown Ambas-
sador one intended for the instruction and amusement of chil-
dren, Mrs. Frazer. She has a sparkling style, has seen much
of the world, if one may judge from her writing, has a vivid

* Palladia. By Mrs. Hugh Frazer. New York : The Macmillan Company,

1897-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 545

imagination, a taste for the sensational, and a faculty for pick-
ing up slang, gipsy, English, and latter-day American. This
slang she puts into the mouths of dukes and duchesses and
English aristocrats, girls included, with a frequency calculated
to make one believe that it is the current coin of the highest
society in the Old World. The state of morals among the
ruling classes there are presented in such striking ways as to
make us admit that they justify the attempts of the anarch-
ists whom she introduces into her story very effectively in get-
ting rid of the order of things which these villanous aristocrats
represent. Indeed, the criminals of the wealthy class whom
she depicts are of a far more atrocious type than the compara-
tively unsophisticated enthusiasts who desire to reform society
by the aid of dynamite. Two of her leading characters a
noble lady named Demetria Mouravieff and a Shah Jehangire
-are criminals of so horrible a type that any anarchist might
easily persuade himself that he would be rendering a distinct
service to society by stepping in where the hand of justice
was rendered impotent by the rank of the criminals or their
own ingenuity in evading human penalty for their atrocities.
The Lady Demetria is a loathsome creation.

In Palladia, the title character, we have the foil to this re-
pulsive picture. The theory on which she has been evolved is
that liaisons between hereditarily immoral gipsy females and
very cunning old German barons produce the highest type of
physical and moral perfection in the feminine offspring as dia-
monds are produced from charcoal intensely overheated. At
least five of the leading male characters fall violently in love
with this prodigy of the bar sinister, and it requires two fatal
dynamite explosions by the anarchists and a most horrible
murder to contrive that Palladia get off by marrying only two
of them successively.

The style of the work is what is usually called " rattling."
The descriptions are excellent, and in parts the book is spright-
ly. It suggests a bold attempt to reconcile the theories of
Miss Braddon with the style of Offenbach. As regards its moral
tone, there is not much to mark it out for special condemna-
tion save a scene where the Lady Demetria sets to work to cap-
ture a husband and succeeds. Oriental ideas are also woven
into the book, in several chapters, with a freedom suggestive of
the Midway Plaisance at the World's Fair. The open animal-
ism of Zola is preferable to the decollete and audacious sugges-
tiveness of this method.

546 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

It is rather hard on Captain Marryat that his Phantom Ship *
should be called up for judgment when most people had for-
gotten it. It is harder still to have a sort of Hamlet's " in-
struction to the players ' delivered to the author when he has
been so long past the power of profiting by it. Mr. David
Hannay, who writes the preface to the new edition which the
Messrs. Macmillan have just produced, expatiates very learnedly
on the way it might have been written, and ought to have
been written, in his opinion. Still we might smile at this lec-
turing of the unconscious dust were it not for the cruelty
of telling the world that those scenes which might be most
relied on for selling the book should another " No-popery'
wave set in those describing the Portuguese Inquisition at Goa
-were not only irrelevant but pirated from Dellon's unreliable
work on the Santa Casa. We have too much sense of obliga-
tion to Marryat for many hours of real entertainment to feel
sore over this piece of literary weakness. He was in need of
money when he yielded to the temptation, and he wrote for a
market more than for a reputation, under its spur. Save for
the strong anti-Catholic element in it it is a work which by
no means diminishes Marryat's reputation, but quite the con-
trary. It exhibits his creative and weirdly imaginative powers,
and his wonderful versatility in a field so unusual to seafaring
men as that of literature. The work, no doubt, has its faults
from an historical and philological point of view, and so, no
doubt, grates on the senses of the exacting realists of the pre-
sent day, who care little what moral blemishes a book may
have so that it describes the kitchen crockery and gives the
local patois or dialect photographically and phonetically. But
it will be read when the whole series of Nanas and Dodos and
Yellow Asters and Heavenly Twins are relegated to the dust-heap
or the chandler's counter.

Passing Shadow s\ is the title of another of the new American
Catholic Authors' series now being produced by the firm of
Benziger. It is not an ambitious work, either as to construc-
tion or literary treatment, yet it is in many respects a remarka-
ble performance. Without any incident above the merest com-
monplace, it engages the reader's attention and maintains it
pretty well to the end. It is a chapter of ordinary life in the
East Side of New York City, but it spares us the remarkable

* The Phantom Ship. By Captain Marryat. Illustrated by H. R. Miller. With an In-
troduction by David Hannay. New York : The Macmillan Company.

t Passing Shadows. By Anthony Yorke. New York : Benziger Brothers.

1 897.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 547

English grammar and idiom of that swarming and polyglot
quarter. It settles for ever, in our opinion, the feasibility and
propriety of discussing the theme of love in the Catholic novel,
inasmuch as it is a double-barrelled love story from start to
finish. It establishes once for all again the old truth that
everything depends on the mind of the writer. Purity and
good taste will enable any theme to be handled well and pre-
sentably by a capable author. This is the whole test of the
problem of love in the Catholic novel.

Notwithstanding the objections of the purists in juvenile
education who would banish fiction and myth from the infantile
curriculum, fairy tales and talking beast stories are likely to
have a long life. Amongst the best of these old classics are
those gathered by Andrew Lang. His annual gift-books for
boys and girls are cordially welcomed, not indeed so much for
the excellence of the dress in which they are invariably pre-
sented as for the admirable form in which their various para-
bles, as we may style them, are presented. This year he pub-
lishes a volume called The Animal Story Book* which must at
once establish itself as a favorite in the world of youth. The
stories are not all by English writers ; there are some by such
famous French authors as Dumas and Thophile Gautier.
There are some surprising tales by a very remarkable Irish
gentleman, Baron Wogan, some of whose ancestors had as
much romance crowded into their single careers as a regiment
of ordinary knights-errant. It is a pity that Andrew Lang did
not think fit to give some of the exquisite tales of the early
saints and their birds and animals Columbanus and St. Fran-
cis, for instance. Perhaps in his next essay into this region of
romance he may take this hint. The Animal Story Book, we
may add, is illustrated in capital style by H. J. Ford.

A delightful colored picture-book full of droll pictures in
colors and quaint fancies in verse is The Golliwoggs Bicycle
Club, by Florence K. Upton and Bertha Upton. Its drollery
is somewhat in the line of that of the late Eugene Field, and
its pictorial style that of the classic "Darktown' school. The
Messrs. Longman are the publishers.

We are glad to observe that the Messrs. Benziger have
produced an enlarged edition of Father Finn's excellent volume

* The Animal Story Book. Edited by Andrew Lang. New York : Longmans, Green &
Co.

548 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

of short tales. Mostly Boys. This makes a capital gift-book, as
it is well bound, nicely printed, and is partially illustrated. As
for the literary contents, they are the most admirable of the
class produced in our day just the style of writing to attract
the ardent and active minds of the golden youth of to-day.

A little volume of devotional lines, entitled ^My Crucifix, and
other Verses* by Caroline Harris Gallagher, is amongst the
seasonable publications. The verses show much religious feel-
ing, but they are such as most devotional young ladies might
easily write. The book is presented in a very chaste and ele-
gant binding.

It appears to be a delusion of those who plunge into the
Bacon-Shakspere riddle-maze that the reading public have time
and patience to follow them all through their fanciful meander-
ings. To our mind the canals in Mars are a comparatively
practical subject beside the cipher theories of the Baconians.
We are invited now to follow the anonymous author of a
volume entitled Fair, Kind, and True \ into a labyrinth of eru-
dite reasons in order to convince ourselves that the author of
the enigmatical Sonnets of Shakspere was Bacon in fact, that
for literary purposes Shakspere and Bacon were one and the
same. All things considered, the game is hardly worth the
candle.

A literary " Round Table " of eleven capital stories, from re-
presentative Catholic authors, comes bound in one volume, and
accompanied with admirable portraits and biographical sketches
of the authors given. The production of the book is all that
could be desired by the most exacting. The authors selected
are for the most part old favorites whose merits have long been
recognized, and some more recent comers who are rapidly
working on to a similar plane. It seems to be forgotten by
some critics that Catholic litterateurs have a mission the fulfil-
ment of which imposes restraints upon them which they cheer-
fully accept. They can rarely hope to attain the pre-eminence
which authors who write solely for money and fame can readily
achieve. They write under the restraint of conscience, and
cannot lay themselves open to the slightest suspicion of seek-
ing insidiously to appeal to perverted tastes or jaded literary

* My Crucifix, and other Verses. By Caroline Harris Gallagher. Baltimore, Md. : Gal-
lery & McCann.

\Fair, Kind, and True. By Junius, Jr. Scranton, Pa. : Scrarfton Republican Print.

% Round Table of the Representative American Catholic Authors. New York, Cincin-
nati, and Chicago :Benziger Brothers.

1 897.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 549

appetites. They may possess and reveal the highest ideal in
the pursuit of this object, but that ideal will never command
the world's highest admiration. They know this full well when
they enter the field of Catholic literature, and are prepared to
work under the condition. It is often a noble sacrifice, and
always one that never can be appreciated here. To institute
comparisons between their work and that of writers bound by no
such obligations is therefore misleading and unjust. Brilliancy
in literature is too often produced at the expense of charity and
truth, and the stealthy gratification of private malice in the
depiction of known people under thin disguises. Many a cynic
has been confirmed in his cynicism by finding his sentiments
crystallized in the sentences of a master of epigram. Such a
result as this is by no means one of the objects contemplated
by a school of Catholic literature. Stimulation of our better
nature, not the cultivation of our saturnine tendencies, ought to
be the ultimate aim.

I. --THE DEITY IN PROTESTANT THEOLOGY.*

A work by the Professor of Systematic Theology in Yale
University deserves attention both on account of the position
of its author and also so far as that is possible among Pro-
testants of its representative character. The subjects treated
of are very wide, embracing presumably the complete course of
theology as studied at Yale. The first part is of God as the
Absolute Being, the second of God the Creator, the third of
God the Lord of all in Providential Government, the fourth
and last of God the Lord of all in Moral Government. Under
these heads are embraced discussions on the Holy Trinity, on
sin and redemption, on moral character, on law, on the nature
of civil government. In such a wide field it is clear that we
cannot in the space at our disposal' give a fair estimate of the
manner in which so many subjects are treated. We must con-
tent ourselves for the present at all events with a somewhat
more particular examination of a few pages, and those at the
very beginning. Possibly we may return to the subject, as a
work of this kind is useful, if for nothing else, as affording some-
thing tangible in the midst of the chaos of ever-shifting opinions
to which Protestantism has reduced religious doctrine.

The first chapter is entitled " The Intellectual Element in

* God the Creator and Lord of All. By Samuel Harris, D.D., LL.D., Professor of
Systematic Theology in Yale University. Two vols. New York : Charles Scribner's Sons.
1896.

550 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. LJ an ->

Religion," and we notice with pleasure the clear and emphatic
enunciation of the truth that theology is the intellectual ap-
prehension of what God really is in his relations to the uni-
verse ; that consequently, as Dr. Harris further on insists, it is
not a matter primarily of feeling and emotion. But very soon
the light cast by this clear affirmation becomes somewhat
dimmed. by the declaration that Fundamental Theology is the
expression of the result of the operations of the human mind
attaining and declaring the answers as to the relations of God
and man, although as contributing to this result God's revela-
tion of himself is a factor, and by the condemnation passed by
Dr. Harris on the term dogma as a misleading and opprobrious
word, because it denotes a formula of belief imposed by
authority, not a doctrine which claims assent only as the result
of careful investigation and on reasonable evidence. But if
God has made a revelation are we not to accept it on his
authority? or is each man to submit it to the test of his
reason, and then to accept it if it stands that test ? The
answer to this question is not very clear so far as appears
within the limits to which we are confining our inquiry, for
while Dr. Harris gives a place of honor to the Sacred Scrip-
tures, he seems to co-ordinate with them the religions of the
world and their sacred books, as well as what he looks upon in
practice as " right ' developments. And right developments in
practice, it would seem from his criticism of Dr. Newman,
preclude our taking St. Paul as a guide for all time, for his
praise of celibacy was only in view of a distress which no
longer exists ; the church that is, the Protestant church having,
as is only too true, made peace with the world. It would
seem, therefore, that anything which comes on authority all
dogma is to be rejected unless it can make itself clear to
reason; if it can do this it. may be accepted, not as a dogma
but as a doctrine ; that any number of men who, after earnest
and prayerful consideration, agree in their conclusions may
form themselves into a church, and that this church has the
right of excluding from the number of its members any one
who does not see as the rest see. " A creed," according to
Dr. Harris, " is simply a statement of doctrines held for true
by persons united in an association for a specified purpose.
A church declares the belief of its members ; that is, it de-
clares itself a Christian Church." This declaration of what
Christian truth is, and what the Christian Church under Pro-
testant auspices has become, contrasts unfavorably with a wise

1 897.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 551

utterance of Bishop Brooks quoted just before by Dr. Harris :
" No exhortation to a good life which does not put behind it
some truth deep as eternity, can seize and hold the con-
science ' -a truth deep as eternity, not the current persuasion
of the moment of a body of men more or less numerous,
learned, or sincere, is required, and with the declaration of our
Lord that the Church is not man's work but His own : " On this
rock I will build My Church, and the gates of hell shall not
prevail against it." Christ knew nothing of a church which
declares itself to be a church as the result of the investigations
of its members. He knew only of the Church which he was
himself to build and which was to last for ever, secure upon
the foundation which he himself laid. We fear that Dr. Harris
by his disparagement and misrepresentation of dogma has
rendered himself unable to afford the real support for truths
that are to seize upon the conscience, for that real support is
the very word of God Himself, infallibly known to be such.
At the same time we are glad to find much that will help to
that good result, and if we had had space would have been
glad to indicate more in detail those certain excellences his
work possesses. Whatever defects it may have, it demands the
attention of all serious students of theology in this country.
Among these defects we cannot refrain from indicating the dis-
closure of unlooked-for ignorance in the disparagement he
seeks to make of the middle-age theology when he says: "In
the time of Alexander of Hales ... it was debated
whether the angels had a higher degree of intelligence in the
evening or in the morning." If Dr. Harris had been well
versed in the works of St. Augustine he would have recognized
that the expressions he ridicules were metaphorical, and that
they refer to the knowledge which those who have the vision
of God have of created things those things they know both
in God scientia matutina and in themselves scientia vespertina ;
and that St. Augustine himself discusses the question as to
which knowledge is the clearer; and because the latter is the
dimmer (decoloratior) he gives it the name of vespertina. So it
is not the middle ages that are to be blamed, but St. Augustine.
In fact neither are to be blamed, as Dr. Harris would himself
admit, if the Protestantism of which he is the victim had not
undermined the established principles of reason on lofty sub-
jects ; for the discussion indicated is the natural outcome of
any right apprehension of some very elementary principles of
natural theology.

552 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

2. SONS OF ST. DOMINIC.*

The next greatest pleasure to that of invention is, we think,
the pleasure of imagining one's self an inventor. And so we are
never surprised when we perceive the unmistakable satisfaction
of some one who is pushing through a new scheme of, say,
poor relief.

This thought came with the reading of Augusta Drane's
new book on The Spirit of the Dominican Order. All the pub-
lic to whom the lady is familiar will welcome this posthumous
publication of a series of papers addressed some forty years
ago to her sisters in religion, and teaching the community
spirit by anecdotes illustrative of Dominican sanctity, special
devotions, and daily life. It was a chapter on active work
among the poor that suggested our opening reflection, for
how many go about on similar errands now imagining them-
selves to be initiating " reform." And how many facile theor-
izers trip into magazine pages and phrase about bridging the
social chasm, about right of association and love of humanity,
fruit of a new era inaugurated by the immortal Revolution
and its heaven-sent sans culottes. In the Dominican tales are
ancient instances of women invading city slums in the interests
of the unfortunate, that recall at once to-day's blessed move-
ment in that direction. God forbid that we, or any one, should
discourage workers ; only it is foolish to imagine that we are
the discoverers of man's rights and duties. And we dare say
this work was none the less carefully done in olden time, nor
less thankfully acknowledged, even though its inspiration was
divine and supernatural, rather than the practical outgrowth of
a humanitarianism as vague as it is kind. But lest our speech
seem controversial let us sorrowfully own that nowadays we
sometimes find the children of this world quicker than the
children of light to love their fellow-men in other words,
Catholic lay-folk do not occupy their due pre-eminence as the
friends of the lowly.

They prayed as they went about their work, those old
Dominican jewels; often, they saw the Lord Christ present in
their neighbor, and his love prompted them to what we call
extravagances. It may -matter little that we do not imitate
their practices of humiliation and denial; it is our heavy loss

* The Spirit of the Dominican Order illustrated from the Lives of its Saints. By A. T.
Drane (Mother Francis Raphael, O.S.D.) New York: Benzigers ; London: Art and Book
Company. 1896.

1897-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 553

that we retain little of the generous spirit that inspired them.
We may smile when we think of our own shoulders and a dis-
cipline but have we the strong affection, and the self-control,
and the appreciation of pain's uses?

The reader who rejoices in the modicum of faith possessed
by ordinary mortals may not always retain his wonted gravity
in the conning over some of the wonderful tales this book has
gathered from the archives. At all events their vast number
and varied character help to recall the power of the writer
who produced her magnificent Life of St. Catherine in a few
weeks ; for the present volume, despite the omnivorous reading
it must have required, came from Mother Raphael's pen but
two years after her profession. But while thus commenting on
the anecdotes, we cannot refrain from defying any one to
peruse the chapter on " Happy Deaths " without being charmed
by the beauty of some stories, the very prettiest of which is
that, elsewhere related, about the death of the Blessed Imelda,
whose thanksgiving on her First Communion was the render-
ing up her innocent soul.

3. ORIENTAL DEMONOLOGY.*

The object of this book, in the author's own words, is "to
present a truthful statement of facts (of demon possession),
confident that from such a course nothing but good can come
to the cause either of science or religion." Dr. Nevius was a
missionary (Protestant) in China for forty years prior to his
death in 1893.

He mentions thirty-two cases that he met with, though
strange to say his testimony is not first-hand, as one would
naturally expect. On the contrary, he admits that he had to
depend " almost exclusively on Chinese evidence, not on per-
sonal examination' (p. 136). He gives three reasons for this:

ist. These phenomena occur in country out-stations which
the missionary visits but two or three days in the course of
the year ;

2d. The native customs prevent the frequent visits of the
missionary to private families ; and

3d. The repugnance of the missionary himself in " encoun-
tering, or even encouraging, these manifestations."

Still the evidence given is said to be that of eye and ear

* Demon Possession and Allied Themes. Being an inductive study of phenomena of our
own times. By Rev. John L. Nevius, D.D.

554 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

witnesses ; there is no reason to suspect fabrication or mis-
representation ; the events related are public, etc.

The fact that the author went to China " with a strong con-
viction that a belief in demons and communications with spiri-
tual beings belonged exclusively to a barbarous and superstitious
age ' (p. 9), speaks but poorly of his acquaintance at that time
with the history of the past nineteen centuries poorly of the
appreciation of the facts related in the Gospels.

About a hundred pages are given to the examination of
the different theories invented to explain away the facts of
possession as found in the Scriptures, the writings of the Fathers,
etc. They are five in all : the imposture, the odic force, the
evolution, the pathological, and the psychological theory.

He shows very well that while some supposed cases of pos-
session can be accounted for on the theory of imposture or
disease, there are other cases and their name is legion which
can only be explained on the fact of demoniac possession. In
our century we are somewhat used to these frail hypotheses of
the scientific dogmatist, which die only to give birth to others
still more frail. Dr. Nevius shows that their explanations do
not explain, for they, do not meet the facts.

His exposition of the Scriptural texts relating to his subject
is sound, although it is no addition to Scripture exegesis. The
same objections have been answered time and time again by
divines both Catholic and Protestant. The ordinary Catholic
text-book on dogma treats them in the tract De Angelis. He
says well : " Actual communication with unseen spirits ; their in-
fluence on the acts and destinies of individuals and nations ;
and demon possession are taught clearly and unmistakably in
both the Old and New Testaments. . . . The Bible recog-
nizes not only the material world, but a spiritual world inti-
mately connected with it, and spiritual beings, both good and
bad, who have access to, and influence for good and ill, the
world's inhabitants ' (p. 243).

The fall of the angels is with him only " a common opinion,"
so that there is r.oom for " the ingenious hypothesis of Rev.
James Gall that Satan and the demons who are his subjects
are the disembodied spirits of a pre-Adamic race, who once
lived on this earth." We have the certainty of Catholic dogma
as put forth by the Fourth Lateran Council : " Diabolus et
alii daemones a Deo quidem natura creati sunt boni, sed ipsi
per se facti sunt mali."

The Bibliography of the subject prepared by Mr. Rankin is

1897.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 555

very poor and unscientific. Demonology, angelology, witchcraft,
ancient and modern spiritism, apparitions, etc., are some of his
headings. Many books are mentioned which are worthless
from a scientific point of view, and others treating these ques-
tions from an historical, dogmatic, or apologetic stand-point are
utterly ignored. What of a bibliography on angelology which
omits the works of the great scholastics, Peter Lombard, St.
Bonaventure, St. Thomas, Suarez ? What of a biographical list
which says nothing of the lives of St. Hilarion, St. Anthony,
St. Pachomius, St. Victorinus, St. John of God, St. Colette, St.
Catherine of Siena, the Cure d'Ars ? What of a list of au-
thors which passes over such names as Thyre"e, Delrio, Spren-
ger, Nider, Grillaud, De Castro, Binsfield, Schott, Bodin, De
Lancre, Boguet, Gorres, Bizonard, Ribet, Mirville, Pailloux,
etc., etc.?

The position taken in regard to spiritism, that it is partly
imposture and partly referable to demons (pp. 315, 332), is the
view generally adopted by Catholic writers on the subject. Im-
pure and anti-Christian are other adjectives it well deserves.

The general critique of this volume would be that there is
little or nothing new said on the main theme of demon posses-
sion, though new facts are given us ; the treatment of the
"allied themes' is necessarily meagre and unsatisfactory; and
therefore the bibliography is all the more to be found fault
with, because it does not direct us well enough to the fuller
sources of information.

4. RICHARD ROLLE OF HAMPOLE.*

Two volumes which have been lately issued introduce us
to the personality and the works of a man of whom little
notice has hitherto been taken. This man is Richard Rolle.
It is true small portions of his works in prose and verse have
been edited by Dr. Morris and Rev. G. G. Perry; and the
Catholic Truth Society, we believe, has this year edited the
Lay Folks' Mass Book ; but, when these are compared with the
bulk of his writings, it would seem that only too little atten-
tion has been given by us . to him who was the first, to any
great extent, to write in our own language. The fact is to our
discredit. Some of the best work in the study of Early English
manuscripts, as in the case of Anglo-Saxon and Gaelic litera-

* Yorkshire Writers : Richard Rolle of Hampole, an English Father of the Church, and
his Followers. Edited by C. Horstman, late professor in the University of Berlin. 2 vols.
London : Swan, Sonnenschein & Co. ; New York : Macmillan & Co.

556 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.,

ture, has been done by German scholars, and this is so in the
present instance.

Richard Rolle was born about the year 1300. After his
home education he was sent to Oxford, then in the height of
its glory, and where, only a few years before, the great Duns
Scotus counted many thousands as his pupils. The character
which was to stamp his future work immediately asserted it-
self. He could not bear with the dialectics in philosophy and
theology as practised in the schools ; his heart, his feelings,
rather than his intellect, was his ruling power. At the age of
nineteen he fled from Oxford to his home, shortly to become
a hermit. The description of his departure is amusing (2, vi.) :
" One day he procured from his sister two kirtles, a white one
and a gray one, and a hood of his father's ; cut off the buttons
of the white frock and the sleeves of the gray, donned the
white one next his skin and the gray one over it, put on the
hood, and so, in the semblance of a hermit, ran away from
home, frightening off his sister, who raised the cry that he was
mad."

He appeared at a church near John of Dalton's estate.
There, on the following morning, he sang at Matins and at
Mass, and after the gospel, " having first obtained the benedic-
tion of the priest," he preached a sermon that brought tears
from the eyes of his listeners. Mass over, John of Dalton,
after overcoming the humility of the young man, induced him
to take dinner with him, and learning of his desire to enter
upon the hermit's life, promised him a cell upon his own es-
tate, and the necessary means of sustenance. Richard was
happy, and he entered upon that life of contemplation and
inysticism for which he so much longed.

To explain the genesis of such a mind as Rolle's in the
time and place in which the mystic lived, the writer of the in-
troduction works out for us the progress of scholasticism and
mysticism. In general his statement of the case seems fair and
historically true, but we think there is left a false impression,
namely, that scholasticism withers the heart and dries up the
wells of sanctity. Nothing could be farther from the truth.
For, to the well-balanced mind increase of intellectual know-
ledge means a growth in the love of God. We realize that in
man intellect and will must be cultivated, and it was in view of
this that the distinction arose between scholastic and monastic
theology. One is speculative, the other contemplative. The
perfectly poised character requires the elements of both. One

1897.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 557

deals indirectly, the other directly, with the spiritual life. The
defender of scholasticism need not be opposed to mysticism.
If Richard Rolle was a mystic and a poet, it may with profit
be recalled that the greatest of the schoolmen, the Angelical
Doctor, asserted that he received all his knowledge at the foot
of the crucifix ; and that to him literary critics of the highest
calibre have accorded the praises due a true poet. On the
other hand, St. Bonaventure, Hugo of St. Victor and his
pupil Richard, whom Professor Horstman regards as the mas-
ters of Rolle in the mystical school, did not entirely reject the
methods of the scholastics. If St. Anselm could formulate the
principle of the schools as "fides quaerens intellectum," the
first of the Victorine duo does not hesitate to say that, in
some things at least, "-fides ratione adjuvatur et ratio fide
perficitur."

Professor Horstman does not seem to realize the liberty of
the individual in Catholicity. Yet this very instance is a proof
of how far individuals, one in doctrine and discipline, may
otherwise differ. The harmony is not disturbed. Catholicity
remains in all its splendor, fully verifying the idea of beauty as
defined by the schoolmen themselves " unitas in varietate."

We note one blunder in this exposition. In the question of
the " universals ' our author's division is inadequate. Admit-
ting two theories only, he ascribes to the scholastics one which
they did not hold, and totally ignores their true position.
Neither Nominalism, which found its culmination in the teach-
ing of Roscelin, nor Realism, which found its extreme develop-
ment in the expressions of William of Champeaux, was the
accepted theory of the schools. Both were equally condemned,
and neither found favor with the church. The scholastics held
a middle doctrine between the two, as expressed in the formu-
la " Universalia acti sunt in intellectu sed fundamentaliter in
rebus."

Naturally, in propagating his teaching Rolle met with op-
position. He attacked the moral state of society, lay and cler-
ical, and for his pains he was visited with the condemnations
of his countrymen. They could not understand him. As
the mob of Assisi, hooting the ragged St. Francis, cried after
him that he was mad, so Rolle was styled by many of his con-
temporaries a madman and a fool. But he exhorted and wrote
in spite of all opposition. Probably on account of this spirit
of reform exhibited by Rolle, Professor Horstman in more
than one place asserts that Rolle was the predecessor of Wic-
VOL. LXIV. 36

558 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan.

liffe, Savonarola, and Luther. But, with his pure and gentle
mysticism, his whole system of love and progress in love, Rolle
would have been compelled to regard with abhorrence the dark
and hateful doctrines of necessary evil, of predestination to
damnation, of a moral necessity, as later advanced by his fel-
low-countrymen or by the German ex-monk. While his ideas
of pure love of God, in contradiction to love of the world ;
his perhaps exaggerated appreciation of a life of chastity as
opposed to the married state, would have caused him to turn
from the conduct and life of Luther in simple and honest dis-
gust. He was their forerunner in that he tried to reform the
moral and social conditions of hi's time, in that he spoke freely
and severely against the abuses of his day, but in no other
way was he their counterpart.

Richard Rolle died, in the village of Hampole, in the year
1349 when Chaucer, who has always been venerated as the
" Father of English Literature," was about nine years of age.
The works which he has left are of a varied character, Latin
and English, prose and verse; but all treat of the rules, the
methods, the beauty of the contemplative life of the spirit.

The scholar who has gathered these works together has
done a noble work ; but there is room for a further labor in
which, perhaps, the student of manuscripts would not be in-
terested. It is to profit by our treasure ; to modernize these
works sufficiently to bring them within the grasp of the peo-
ple in general, for whom especially the Yorkshire hermit
wrote. We have such a work, and so adapted, in Walter Hil-
ton's Scale of Perfection, and the Catholic Truth Society of Eng-
land has published within the past year The Lay Folks Mass
Book, one of the pieces contained in the volumes before us.

MUCH satisfaction is felt in Catholic circles
generally at the choice of the Holy Father in the
Rectorship of the Catholic University at Wash-
ington. Dr. Conaty's temperament and sympathies are all
that could fit a scholar for an exalted and difficult post and
all that could endear a priest to a devoted laity. His learning,
his passionate zeal for the spread of education, his scholarly
tastes, and the practical proofs given of his ability to realize
his educational theories, all show a mental and material equip-
ment which is singularly felicitous. His profound attachment
to the land of his adoption, in which nearly the whole of his
life has been passed, makes the choice especially acceptable to
the great body of American Catholicism. We rejoice that the
Holy Father has once more shown his love for America and
its institutions by selecting so typical an American priest as
Dr. Conaty for this distinguished position. His Holiness pos-
sesses the rare and valuable gift of discernment in men that
characterizes the true statesman. We do most cordially con-
gratulate the new Rector on his appointment, and the Univer-
sity on its good fortune at a period when its destinies to out-
siders seemed to be passing through a crux ; and we may add
the expression of our hope that the reign of the new Rector
may be as long as we are sure it will be brilliant.

All the fair promises of a settlement of the school difficulty
in Manitoba, as a result of the late election, have proved to
be mirages. A settlement has been arrived at which appears
to have settled nothing but the ability of the Orange majority
in the province to impose its own will despite of everything.
What shadow of concession has been wrung from the intoler-
ant masters of Manitoba must be a poor solace to the Catho-
lics who supported the Laurier administration against the late
one. They have got no separate schools, no religious instruc-
tion in the common schools. Only, contingent upon certain
conditions, religious instruction may be given for half an hour
after school-time, either where a specified number of parents

560 EDITORIAL NOTES. [Jan.,

petition for it, or a majority of the board of trustees of the
school authorize it. But even this meagre concession is clogged
with the condition that the settlement be accepted by the
minority in the province as decisive. An easily contented
minority they must be, indeed, were they to be satisfied with
such a simulacrum of justice. Anxious as they are for a quiet
termination of the dispute, they could hardly be weak enough
to barter their rights for so small a mess of pottage, or rather
workhouse soup, as this. Their indignation has already found
voice. A vigorous protest was promptly made, on the first
authoritative publication of the " settlement," by the Arch-
bishop of St. Boniface, and it found an immediate echo in
the utterances of bishops, priests, and the Catholic press all
over the province. Too much insistence cannot be placed on
the parallel case in the Quebec province, where the Catholics
are in the majority. Were they to use their power in the bru-
tally unscrupulous way they see the Orange majority doing in
Manitoba, we can easily imagine what storms of wrath would
follow. But it seems that for such folks as the Manitoba ma-
jority the principles of the Sermon on the Mount do not ap-
ply. " Thy neighbor " means to minds like theirs either a mas-
ter or a slave.

The most disastrous military enterprise of modern times has
been the Italian attack on Abyssinia. Begun in discredit, it
has ended in failure and disgrace. It is all over now, for a
treaty of peace has been agreed upon by the representative
of the Italian government and King Menelek, and as a result
the prisoners taken by the latter's forces are to be restored to
their homes. This would have been done long ago by the
pacific Menelek had the Italian government kept faith with
him ; but, as he has pointed out in a letter to the Holy
Father, while they were negotiating for peace they were still
committing acts of war upon his territory and subjects. This
letter, which was written in reply to one sent by the Holy Father
through Monsignor Macaire, was characterized by expressions
of the deepest reverence for the Holy Father, and sincere
desire to comply with his appeal for mercy. French was the
medium through which this remarkable correspondence took
place.

8 9 7-]

LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS.

561

AUTHENTIC SKETCHES OF LIVING CATHOLIC

AUTHORS.

REV. EDWARD F. X. MCSWEENY, S.T.D., is one of our
writers whom Father Hecker's generous enterprise introduced
to the public, granting him the hospitality of the columns of
THE CATHOLIC WORLD. The magazine had started as an
eclectic, but the Apostle of the United States felt that if we
were to advance in literature it would be necessary to develop
the talents of our own thought-recorders, and determined to
encourage home authors.

Dr. McSweeny claims as his birthplace Cork, the literary

capital of Ire-
was born in
tronymic Mc-
MacSwiney) is
sacred litera-
MacSwiney, S.
Marquess of
quisite English-
man Breviary,
Sweeny's own
father's side be-
ed for scholar-
cal profession
back. A cou-
side of the
Hartnett, wrote
poems.
Sweeny's earli-

REV. EDWARD F. X. MCSWEENY,
Mt. St. Mary's, Emmitsburg, Md.

land, where he
1843. The pa-
Sweeny (or
well known in
ture ; Father
J., assisting the
Bute in his ex-
ing of the Ro-
and Dr. Mc-
family on the
ing distinguish-
ship in the cleri-
for generations
sin on the other
house, Penelope
a volume of
Dr. Mc-
est acquaint-

ance with letters, however, was made in New York, where he at-
tended first the public schools, then the Christian Brothers at St.
Mary's, Grand Street, and finally the Jesuit College of St. Francis
Xavier. Here he remained six years, and was graduated in 1862.
In October of this year he went to Rome and entered the world-
college of the Propaganda, succeeding his elder brother, and be-
ing himself, later on, followed successively by two other brothers
in the Urban College. Taking the degrees of doctor in philoso-
phy and theology, he was ordained in 1867, and returning home
became assistant to Rev. Dr. Edward McGlynn, at St. Stephen's,

562 AUTHENTIC SKETCHES OF [Jan.,

New York. He was afterwards stationed at Newburgh, N. Y.,
and in 1873 was appointed pastor of the newly-established parish
of St. Mary, Poughkeepsie, retaining this charge for ten years.
When the parish was fully equipped with a parochial school,
priest's house, and a large surplus in the treasury for the erec-
tion of a new church, he decided to follow the inclination he
had always cherished for college work, and accepted an invita-
tion to take charge of the seminarians and teach sacred science
in Mount St. Mary's, Maryland. At this writing he is still at
the " Old Mount," evidently enjoying the society of kindred
spirits, loving his calling and revelling in the beauties of the
Blue Ridge and the Monocacy Valley, as well as the social
freedom of the Land of the Sanctuary.

Dr. McSweeny delights in travel, and has several times re-
visited Europe.

Besides his accounts of foreign lands and our own conti-
nent, he has, during the past twenty-five years, contributed to
THE CATHOLIC WORLD, to the Sun, the Independent, and the
Catholic Review, of New York; the Mirror, of Baltimore; the
Columbian, of Columbus, O.; the Citizen, of Milwaukee; as well
as to the Catholic Quarterly, of Philadelphia ; the Irish Eccle-
siastical Record, the London Tablet, and other periodicals, many
essays on social and scholastic subjects, in addition to papers
on the lives of the saints, the school question, and the rela-
tions between the Church and the Republic. Amongst the
most characteristic may be named the "Lady of Erin," " We
Catholics," " Life on the Country Missions," " The Priest and
the Public," " The Lent at St. Canice's," etc. He is also the
author of the first Word-meaning edition, 1892, of the Balti-
more Catechism. Dr. McSweeny's writings are noted for close
observation of men and things, deep study of principles, origi-
nality of view, and fearlessness in expression.

JOHN J. A BECKET is one of the few writers of short
stories in this country who has realized that excellence in this
most difficult form of literary art depends not merely upon
ability to construct ingenious plots or to spin out bright
dialogue, nor yet, as so many seem to imagine, upon the
power of weaving into stories something new or strange, some
unfamiliar dialect, some picture of life in a distant region, some
startling theory of the occult. Mr. a Becket knows well that
the greatness of a fiction-writer depends upon his truthfulness
to life, upon his convincingness, and he therefore seeks to

1 897.]

LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS.

563

portray not what he imagines but what he knows, the life
which he has lived, where there are no telepathic marvels and
where people speak tolerably correct English. He finds enough
of pathos and humor and tragedy in the happenings about him,
in the loves and jealousies, the struggles, the sufferings, and
the vanities of human beings, who, whatever their surround-
ings and conditions, live their lives, for 'better or for worse.
To observe these lives, to understand and interpret them, is
the work Mr. a Becket has set himself to do in his story-tell-
ing, and that is the work he is doing with distinguished
success.

It follows that the man who leads such
scrutiny upon

develop a de-
ality, a charac-
blended a jus-
tionandabroad
a Becket is
as a conver-
unusual charm,
wit, a keen
and occasional
satire. A man
appearance, a
er with a future
him up.
et was born and
manhood in the
Portland was
and the family

J. J. A. BECKET.

a life of keen
his fellows must
lightful person-
ter in which is
tice of observa-
kindliness. Mr.
widely known
sationalist of
with a ready
sense of humor,
flashes of biting
of distinguished
thinker, a writ-
that sums
Mr. a Beck-
grew to young
State of Maine,
his birth-place,
remained there

for a number of years, suffering serious reverses in the great
fire of July 4, 1866. His grandfather was an Englishman,
while his grandmother was a White, a descendant from the
Pilgrim Fathers. But both his parents were Americans. In his
studies of life Mr. a Becket has lived in most of the leading
American cities, and has also travelled extensively in Europe.
In his boyhood Mr. a Becket, as well as his mother and
sister, became converts to the Catholic faith, and at one time
Mr. a Becket had aspirations to the ecclesiastical state ; but
after much thought and struggle it became clear that this was
not his vocation. Entering ardently then upon his chosen
work of writing, he threw himself into newspaper work, and
was connected for several years with one of the leading New

564

LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS.

[Jan.,

York journals. About four years ago, however, he found his
leaning toward fiction so strong that he gave up journalism to
devote himself entirely to story-writing. Since then his work
has been seen frequently in the leading magazines, among his
best short stories being "The Roses of the Senor,""The Song
of the Comforter," " The Faith of Miss Roland," "Two Cap-
tains," " Love's Handicap," " A Woof of Providence." Mr. a
Becket has for some time been planning a novel of American life.
Mr. a Becket has made unusually thorough studies in belles-
lettres and philosophy. For several years he was professor of
belles-lettres and rhetoric in St. Francis Xavier's College, New
York City ; Georgetown University ; the College of the Holy
Cross, Worcester, Mass., and Loyola College, Baltimore, Md.
He has the degree of doctor of philosophy from Georgetown
University. CLEVELAND MOFFETT.

(MADAME ELIZABETH GAIGNEUR), although bearing

a French name,
of the Land of
fact which had
do with her
de-plume. E din-
birth-place, and
educated, her
the Modern
of a kind to de-
love of litera-
fine arts. Dur-
of the Catholic
land she, at a
age, embraced
faith ; a step
taken by her
a deacon of the
munion, who

ELIZABETH GAIGNEUR ("ALBA").

is a daughter
Heather ; a
something to
choice of a nom-
burgh was her
there was she
surroundings in
Athens being
velop a great
ture and the
ing the period
revival in Eng-
somewhat early
the ancient
which was also
elder brother,
Anglican corn-

subsequently

became a priest. The other members of the family six in
number followed after a few months.

The literary life of " Alba ' has been a busy if a retired
one, and much of its best work is yet to be presented to the
public. A few lyrics and an essay (" Glimpses of Lourdes "),
brought out in THE CATHOLIC WORLD, and a story (" Poor
Little Ninette"), and an allegory ("The City of Terror")
which appeared several years ago in a Canadian Catholic

1897.] NEW BOOKS. 565

weekly, are about all of her works which have as yet found
their way into print. The late Rev. Father Sylvester Joseph
Hunter, S.J., who read the last-named while in manuscript,
was good enough to pronounce it " excellent both in treatment
and in style." He also spoke very highly of a more important
work (poetical), a manuscript copy of which he kindly accepted
for the Jesuit library at Manresa House, Roehampton, Eng-
land. "Alba* has embodied a portion of her experiences in
a work of fiction, which will probable be of special interest to
outside sympathizers.

Her two sons are members of the Society of Jesus, the
elder a priest and professed father, the younger a scholastic.
They are her only surviving children.

NEW BOOKS.

THE SHAKESPEARE PRESS, New York :

Caliban. By Ernest Renan, member of the French Institute. Translated by

Eleanor Grant Vickery. With an Introduction by Willis Vickery, LL.B.
LONGMANS, GREEN & Co., New York :

The Abbt Lamennais and the Liberal Catholic Movement in France. By the
Honorable W. Gibson. Shakespeare's Macbeth. Edited, with Notes and
an Introduction, by John Matthews Manly, Ph.D., Brown University. Ten-
nyson's The Princess. Edited, with Nutes and an Introduction, by George
Edward Woodberry, A.B., Columbia University.
BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York :

Notes on Christian Doctrine. By the Right Rev. Edward Bagshawe, D.D.,
Bishop of Nottingham. Controversial Catechism. By the Rev. Stephen
Keenan.
THE CATHEDRAL LIBRARY ASSOCIATION, New York:

Clare Vaughan. By Lady Lovat. New edition, with original illustrations

and some hitherto unpublished letters.
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY, New York, Cincinnati, Chicago :

The Mastery of Books : Hints on Reading and the Use of Libraries. By
Harry Lyman Koopman, A.M., Librarian of Brown University. First Year
in German. By J. Keller, Professor of the German Language and Litera-
ture in the Normal College of the City of New York.
CATHOLIC SCHOOL BOOK COMPANY, New York :

The Catholic Family Annual, 1897.

APOSTLESHIP OF PRAYER, 27-39 West Sixteenth Street, New York :
Almanac and Calendar of the League of the Sacred Heart, 1897.
D. H. McBRiDE & Co., Chicago :

Science and the Church. By the Rev. J. A. Zahm, Ph.D., C.S.C.
H. L. KILNER & Co., Philadelphia :

The Secret Directory : A Romance of Modern History. By Madeleine Vin-

ton Dahlgren.
B. HERDER, St. Louis :

The Queen's Nephew. By Rev. Joseph Spillmann, S.J.
WILLIAM DILLON, Rand McNally Building, Chicago:

Bequests for Masses for the Souls of Deceased Persons. By William Dillon,
LL.D/

566 WHA T THE THINKERS SA Y. [Jan.,

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY.

"THE BREWING OF THE STORM."

(Dr. Gold-win Smith in the Forum, December?)

" THAT every one should have a fair start and a free career, do what he
could, and get as much as he could for himself, was the principle of the American
communities. It worked well so long as every man with two hands and a will to
use them could be sure of getting bread enough, with good hope of getting more.
That time has passed. There is now a proletariat. There are multitudes who
have little hope of rising ; too many who cannot be sure of bread.

" The great financial crisis of three years ago, too evidently was the liquida-
tion not only of mismanagement but of something worse, especially in the depart-
ment of railroads, which was the scene of the grand crash. So we were told in
the strongest possible language by the American press. How is it possible to
upbraid the wretched inmates of a tenement-house with their schemes of socialis-
tic plunder, when gigantic fortunes are being made by watering stock, wrecking,
cornering, bribing municipal awarders of contracts, and all the other predatory
devices the employment of which by high commerce has been revealed. It is
true that these are the incidents of a preternaturally rapid development which has
stimulated almost to frenzy the passion for growing suddenly rich. It is true also
that gambling and fraud are the exceptions, and that American commerce in.
general is sound. But the effect produced by these scandals upon the mind of
the people is that of being ruled commercially by rapacious dishonesty,' and the
revolt which ensues is natural, however misguided in its aim. Not a few of the
people must have been driven from their callings and Deprived of their daily bread
by the collapse of the vast edifice of fraud. Confiscation of railroads and tele-
graphs, which is apparently a part of the socialistic programme, would be barefaced
robbery, so far as the innocent stockholders are concerned, and would be the sig-
nal for a general reign of legislative rapine. But the managers of the roads, or
many of them, it must be owned, have surely done their best to provoke confisca-
tion and to justify it in the eyes of the people.

" Wealth can no longer rest on a supposed ordinance of the Almighty dis-
tributing the lots of men. It can no longer rest on unquestioning belief in natural
right. It is called upon to justify its existence on rational grounds. It must make
itself felt in beneficence. It must avoid that ostentation of luxury which is gall-
ing to the hearts of the poor. It must remain at its post of social duty. If rich
Americans in the hour of peril, instead of remaining at their posts of social duty
and doing according to their measure what Peter Cooper did, continue to crowd
in ever-increasing numbers to the pleasure cities and haunts of Europe, or spend
their money at home in selfish luxury and invidious display, a crash will come and
ought to come. The French aristocracy before the Revolution left their posls of
social duty in the country to live in luxury and frivolity at Versailles. The end
was the burning of their chateaux. American plutocrats who leave their posts of
social duty for the pleasure cities of Europe will have no reason to complain if
their chateaux some day are burnt. Unfortunately warnings are seldom taken by
individuals and almost never by a class, each member of which looks to the other
members to begin."

1897-] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 567

SIR WILLIAM DAWSON ON SCIENCE AND RELIGION.

(From the Literary Digest.)

PROBABLY no scientific man is to-day more prominent as a defender of reli-
gious faith than Sir J.William Dawson, LL.D., F.R.S., late the principal of McGill
University, Montreal, and at one time president of the British Association. Sir
William, in addition to his scientific attainments, is a student of Hebrew and
Greek. In a recent issue of the Christian Commonwealth, London (one of the
few religious weeklies that avails itself of that modern invention, the interview),
appears an article by him on " Science as the Handmaid of Religion " and an in-
terview with him touching lightly on numerous important points, such as the Bibli-
cal account of creation, the origin of man, the extent of the Deluge, and miracles.
Sir William was asked if there is any real discrepancy between science and Gene-
sis. He replied :

" In my judgment, none. I maintain that so far as an inspired record can be
compared with what is at best a record we work out for ourselves, the correspon-
dence between the two is marvellous. I have held that view since 1856, when I
published my book Archczia (since replaced by another, The Origin of the
World}, and I think the proofs of its soundness are multiplying daily. To my
mind the first chapter of Genesis, in the way which it has anticipated discovery
and still holds the ground as something that cannot fairly be cavilled at, is itself
a remarkable proof of the inspiration of the Bible. Those who attack Genesis
either do not understand it or wilfully misrepresent it."

" Then you think the first chapter of Genesis represents solid fact ? '
" Decidedly. It represents the order of creation, but from a special point of
view, that of a writer who wishes to show that the things that were objects of idol-
atry to the ancient world are really the works of one Creator. The aim of the
writer and of the spirit of God in guiding him is distinctively religious. In early
days men did not distinguish between the creature and the Creator, and the ob-
ject of the first chapter of Genesis is to show that the Creator is the absolute and
eternal spiritual Being and that everything in the world and the universe is his
work."

On the origin of man the interviewer elicited the following :
" I know nothing about the origin of man except what I am told in the
Scripture that God created him. I do not know anything more than that, and I
do not know anybody who does. I would say with Lord Kelvin that there is
nothing in science that reaches the origin of anything at all. That man is a pro-
duct, a divine creation, is all that I can say. So with the first animal, it must have
been a product of absolute creation. With man something new is introduced into
the world a rational and moral nature, of which there is no trace in the animal
kingdom. That is why in the first chapter of Genesis man is said to have been
' created,' an inferior term, ' made,' being usually used in the case of the animals."

IS IRRELIGION INCREASING IN FRANCE?

(From the Evangelisch Lutherische Kirchenzeitung of Leipsic.)

IT is incorrect to claim that France is becoming irreligious. Even the fact
that in Paris fully twenty-five per cent, of the burials are conducted without religi-
ous services is no evidence that the people as a whole are drifting into irreligion.
In the country any neglect of religious observances is unknown. All marriages
ahd funerals are under direction of the church ; almost without exception all
children are baptized and are thus officially members of the church. It is true

568 WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. [Jan.,

that the state schools exclude religious teachings, substituting in their place a
"non-religious morality"; but then it must be remembered that the religious
schools of the church are crowded to the utmost. France is to-day, as was the
case thirty years ago, in the hands of the clergy. The aristocracy of Paris as well
as the bourgeoisie in the country are on the best of terms with the priests, and
the great mass of people in the rural districts have never been estranged from the
church. None can deny that here and there in the larger cities groups of atheists
or individual unbelievers manage to create a good deal of a stir in France ; but
this element constitutes a phenomenally small minority.

The people of France have in recent decades been charged with atheism
and materialism chiefly on account of a number of journalists and politicians, who
had a personal interest in creating a public sentiment of this kind. The greatest
card they can play at all times is the spook of clericalism, in the well-known
words of Gambetta : Le ctiricalisme, voila tennemi ! And the Frenchman, who is
always anxious to be regarded as an independent thinker, is determined not to get
to clericalism. Yet these same Frenchmen, who are personal enemies of the
priests, are not therefore anti-religious. Thus, e. g., the litterateur, H. Taine,
the positivist philosopher, entrusted the religious training of his children to a
Protestant pastor. Other freethinkers in Paris, who are loud in the declaration
of their principles, send their children to church schools. And when the one or
the other of these men happens to secure a high position in the government, he
finds it impossible to carry out his previous ideas, such as the separation between
state and church. He very rapidly discovers what an immense power religion is
in the public sentiment of the nation. It is for this reason that the proposition of
a severance between state and church so often proposed has never been realized.
Indications of this power in the hearts of the people are the pilgrimages to the
Lourdes shrine and the Heart of Jesus cultus so extensively in vogue in France.
Ever and anon leaders of anti-Christian thought are made to feel the power of
Christianity and of the Catholic Church in that country. Thus the " spiritualistic"
agitation among the students, headed by Professor Lavisse, has entirely disap-
peared. The outcome of all such contests is that the hierarchy must continue to
rule and that Rome will speak the last word.

In the last week of August there was assembled in Rheims a convention of
some seven hundred French priests, called together by Abbe Lemire. This con-
gress was regarded by some as signifying an emancipation of the lower clergy
from the government of the bishops and the Pope. A number of prelates looked
with terror on this convention. But little of what was done has reached the ears
of the public, as the deliberations were carried on behind closed doors ; but what
has been reported shows that its purpose was anything but a declaration of inde-
pendence on the part of the inferior clergy, but aimed rather at strengthening
the church throughout the republic. Abbe Lemire declared in his opening ad-
dress that this was not an assembly of democrats, or socialists, or malcontents,
but a body that in every respect submitted to the Pope. One of the resolutions of
the body makes it the duty of the priests to get nearer to the heart of the people,
also, by eng'aging in social enterprises for the uplifting of their economic condition.
In short, the whole convention turned out to be ad major em ecclesice gloriam.
Signs like these go to show that the Church of Rome continues to be the all-
controlling factor in the public life and thought of France, and that it is a su-
perficial view to judge from the radical utterances of a few that the French people
as such are becoming irreligious.

l8 97-] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 569

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

/CATHOLIC Reading Circles have had as a central and dominant object the
\j study of the literature representing the best minds among Catholic workers
past and present. By the federation established through the Summer-School
movement the members of Reading Circles were made acquainted with the
leaders of thought in many departments, and had opportunities of meeting
specialists with their rare treasures of knowledge from our Catholic educational
institutions. While it is true that the formation of the Reading Circles led the
way for the Summer-Schools, it is also true that the union of forces has brought
into prominence the intellectual strength of Catholics in the United States. The
recognition given to Dr. Conaty will strengthen still more the union of forces
already established. His appointment by Pope Leo XIII. should give new
courage to his fellow-workers and associates in the Champlain Summer-School,
who were the first to appreciate his eminent ability in the advancement of higher
education.

Cardinal Gibbons received from the Pope the official registered letter inform-
ing him of the appointment of the Rev. Thomas J. Conaty, D.D., of Worcester,
Mass., as Rector of the Catholic University of Washington, to succeed Bishop
Keane. The letter from the Pope is as follows :
" To our beloved son James Cardinal Gibbons, Archbishop of Baltimore, Leo

P. P. XIII.

"BELOVED SON : Health and apostolic benediction.

" It is with much pleasure that we have received the letter which you sent us
from the meeting held in Washington to designate another president of the uni-
versity, evincing, as it does, your eager desire to provide for the welfare and
success of the great seat ot learning. Yielding to your request, we have con-
sidered the names of the three candidates whom you have proposed as worthy to
'discharge the office of rector. Of these we have deemed fit to choose, and by
our authority we do hereby approve, the first on the list, namely, Thomas James
Conaty, heretofore parish priest in Worcester and president of the Summer-
School.

" Both the learning and the zeal for the advancement of religion which
characterize this distinguished man, whom you, by your joint suffrages, recom-
mend, inspire us with the well-grounded hope that his efforts will not be without
abundant fruits in watching over the interests of the university, as well as in en-
hancing its lustre. How dear to our heart is this matter cannot but be well
known to you, for you are aware how untiring was our solicitude in founding this
institution, that we might deservedly reckon it among the works which, in the
interest of religion and science, we have, out of our loving affection, undertaken
for the furtherance of the glory of your country, and which we have, with God's
help, been able to bring to a happy issue.

" Meanwhile, as an earnest of heavenly graces, and as an evidence of our
official good-will, we most lovingly in the Lord impart to you, our beloved son, to
the new president of the university, and to all its faculty, the apostolic bene-
diction.

" Given at Rome, at St. Peter's, on the 23d day of .November, 1896, the nine-
teenth of our pontificate.

" (Signed) LEO P. P. XIII."

5/o THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Jan.,

The connection of the Rev. J. A. Doonan, S.J., so thoroughly identified with
the Reading Circle work in Boston and the Summer-School work generally, gives
a special interest to the Loyola Circle of Philadelphia, whose director he is. The
regular meetings of this Circle are held on the second and the fourth Sundays of
the month, and on the afternoons which thus far have brought together the ladies
of the Circle warrant has been given, in the thoughtful and critical papers read,
that the lines of study projected for the year will lead to most excellent results.

Three parallel courses of study are to be followed : one in Sacred Scripture,
a second in church history, and the third in English literature, the pre-Elizabethan
era being the starting point.

The Loyola Reading Circle has a membership of twenty-two members, and
in addition to the president, Miss Mary C. Clare, has the following officers : Miss
Maria T. Reville, vice-president ; Miss Mary MacDevitt, secretary ; Miss Martina
di Pierra, treasurer ; and Miss Marguerite MacDevitt, librarian.

The Hecker Circle of Everett, Mrs. F. F. Driscoll president, is devoting a
portion of its meetings to the study of church history, and a portion to current
literature. It is taking current literature in the form of magazine articles principally,
a method which it found interesting and helpful last year. At a recent meeting
two excellent papers were given one on The Early Martyrs, by Miss Maggie
McDonald, and one on The Early Heresies, by Miss Mary Crowley. The maga-
zine articles were Henry Austin Adams's article in THE CATHOLIC WORLD on
Bishop Potter and Anglican Orders, and one of Father Francis J. Finn's Messen-
ger stories, Round Christmas Footlights, which was very entertainingly read by
Mr. F. F. Driscoll, who has shown an unfailing interest in the growth of the
Champlain Summer-School.

The Notre Dame Reading Circle holds its regular meetings at the Convent
of Notre Dame, Berkeley Street, Boston. The members have formed an interest-
ing acquaintance with St. Francis of Assisi. Essays were read by Misses Mary
Carney and Mary E. Dodd, respectively, both following the Circle's present line
of work, which lies in the thirteenth century, and Longfellow's Golden Legend.

The Fenelon Reading Circle of Charlestown, Mass., has begun its fifth season.
At the roll-call of the opening meeting each member gave the name of one or
more heroes, and the reasons for the appellation. Interesting papers, entitled
My Vacation, were read by Miss Angeltque De Lande, Miss Mary Mitchell, Miss
Annie Kelly, Miss Mary Riley, Miss Caroline Meade, Miss Annie Dilworth, Miss
Katherine Roughan, Miss Ella Howard, Miss Patricia Gleason, and Miss Katha-
rine Sweeney.

The St. Gregory Reading Circle of Haverhill, Mass., has taken up the study
of American history and American literature, the history of the Catholic Church,
Catholic authors of note and their works. The following is a specimen pro-
gramme : Quotations from James Russell Lowell ; Sketch of Lowell's Life, Mary
F. Brogan ; Discussion of article on Lowell in October Reading Circle Review ;
The' Renaissance, Nellie E. Hurley ; Portuguese Discoveries and the North-
men, Mary L. Roche ; The Sagas, Julia F. Sullivan ; The Establishment of
Christianity in Greenland, Mary E. Desmond ; St. Brendan A Modern Ulysses,
Margaret J. O'Brien ; The Virginia and Massachusetts Colonies, as they affected
American literature, Teresa G. Roche ; European Civilization during the Seven-
teenth Century, Elizabeth T. O'Brien.

* * *

Members of the Ozanam Reading Circle held their first public meeting of the
season on Friday evening, December 4, at De La Salle Institute, New York City.

1897-] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 571

They had issued invitation cards to a large number of their friends, and as this
meeting was to be devoted to the interests of the Summer-School, the list included
all the residents of New York City who attende'd the last session of the school at
Cliff Haven, on Lake Champlain. All associate, active, and honorary members
of the Ozanam were requested to be present, and judging from the large audience
which assembled the invitations met a very general and cordial response.

The leading feature of the programme was an address by Miss Helena T.
Goessmann, Ph.M., of Amherst, Mass., who gave a charming talk upon her im-
pressions of the Catholic Summer-School, chiefly based upon what she saw and
heard during a pleasant stay at Cliff Haven last summer. Miss Goessmann is a
graduate of the Academy of the Sacred Heart at Elmhurs't, near Providence. She
has had superior educational advantages and environments from her childhood.
With that eager zest for knowledge which characterizes the average New-Eng-
lander, and with innate gifts of intellect and imagination which have not been
allowed to lie dormant, Miss Goessmann has already won a place among those
who rank high in literary attainments, and in general culture. She has contribut-
ed several notable and scholarly papers to the Catholic Reading Circle Review*
and she stands not only as a defender of higher education for women, but as a
bright exponent of the cause she advocates.

Her address was an exposition of facts, not theories. She dilated upon the
advantages which the student gained by spending a vacation at Cliff Haven ;
dwelling upon the mental stimulus furnished by the lectures ; the pleasures and
profit of meeting at close range so many bright Catholic men and women from
all sections of the country, personalities which when brought together in the de-
lightful social communion which characterizes the camp and cottage life of Cliff
Haven, form a society into whose precincts it is a joy to be admitted. Contact
with these students and cultured men and women is a lasting benefit to the seeker
after knowledge.

Miss Goessmann cited some facts which came within her own observation to
show in how many different ways the Summer-School proves helpful to Catholics.
Her address from its practical stand-point was heard with undivided interest.
She received very hearty plaudits from her audience, who felt proud as well as
pleased to have heard a Catholic lady defend so ably and convincingly a cause
with which all present were in cordial sympathy.

Brother Justin, president of Manhattan College, followed with a pleasing con-
tribution to the subject from another point of view. The chief impression which
he carried away from the Summer-School, he said, was the great number of clever
people he met there, representing the best intellectual life of the whole country _
The favorable opinions of the school entertained by the clergy were due to the
superior kind of people represented at the yearly assemblies.

The closing address was made by the director of the Ozanam, Rev.
Thomas McMillan. His remarks were in the form of suggestions looking to a
more wide-spread interest among Catholics in the work and success of the Sum-
mer-School, and the ways and means of bringing a more numerous body of people
together at the next session. He thought much good would be effected if local
committees were formed in New York City and elsewhere to call together, in the
same manner as the Ozanam Reading Circle had assembled their friends, the peo-
ple who had been at the Summer-School and who could urge its advantages the
more eloquently because of this experience, and to have these people prepare lists
of names of their friends and acquaintances to whom documents could be for-
warded by the officials of the school. The officers of the school rely upon their

572 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Jan., 1897.

friends among the laity to make the coming session more successful than any of

., , . ..V J? .''-.f.

its forerunjieKs.

Br<^erJ^btamian, F.S.C., whose title of Doctor of Science, obtained fjom
the London l^rlffc^SjJ^ .brought him into prominence among the scientists of Eng-
land, is no$rrof^^"m* New York. Many of the Summer-School students attend-
ed his recd&t? cfo&ri^df ''lectures at De La Salle Institute, Central Park West, on
the general subject of electric discharge at high and low pressure. In the first
lecture the learned brother spoke of the electrical pioneers, Gilbert of Colchester,
Benjamin Franklin; dual nature of all electrification ; conductors and insulators ;
fundamental laws of electrics and magnetics ; limitation of the law of the inverse
square ; the electric field ; lines and tubes of force : Winshurst machine ; electro-
static phenomena ; effect of points and flames ; condensers ; best working form of
Leyden jars ; seat of electrostatic charge ; Cavendish (Biot's) experiment ; Fara-
day's ice-pail and butterfly net ; case of steady and alternating currents ; oscilla-
tory discharge ; electric waves ; Maxwellian theory and work of Hertz.

The second lecture proved most entertaining and instructive. Brother Pota-
mian treated of experimental study of the discharge from a Winshurst machine
and from an induction coil ; its energy, sinuous path, report, luminosity ; experi-
ments to show duration of discharge ; atmospheric electricity ; recent work of
Lord Kelvin; physics of a lightning flash ; summer lightning and some phenome-
na of vacuum tubes ; popular fallacies about lightning ; physical and physiological
effects of lightning.

The third and concluding lecture of the course was devoted to the study of
high and low vacua ; Hittorff's experiment ; Crooks' low and high pressure bulbs ;
radiant matter ; material nature of the cathodic discharge suggested by numer-
ous experiments. Work of Lenard and Rontgen ; physical properties of X rays ;
their probable nature ; Becquerel's discovery ; radiation spectrum, from X rays to
electric waves ; investigations of Lodge, Fitzgerald, Perrin, J. J. Thomson, and
others ; shadow pictures ; X-ray focus tubes ; radiography.

* * *

Mary Elizabeth Blake, president of the Boston Catholic Union Reading Cir-
cle, has written some excellent poetry, which is described by a writer in \hz Cath-
olic Columbian as replete with gentle, tender, Catholic faith and hope and love.
Her poetical tributes to Ireland, the land of her nativity ; to her friend, John Boyle
O'Reilly; to Justin McCarthy and Wendell Phillips are well worth reading and
remembering. She does not fly to heights beyond ordinary vision, but writes in
a domestic strain that cannot fail to touch the heart ; and after all, is this not one of
the charms of poetry, that it can place in sweet lines of rhyme beautiful thoughts
that are ours, but only the poet's power can so clothe them ? Mrs. Blake has done
in her day, among Boston's literary coterie of women, what Boyle O'Reilly accom-
plished among men disarmed bigotry and by her pen made a Catholic literature
that claims attention and receives honor from all classes. God give us a host of
such writers who can bring before the reading world the beauties and glories of
our grand old church !

THE HOLY FATHER CELEBRATES ON FEBRUARY 20, 1897, THE NINE-
TEENTH ANNIVERSARY OP HIS ELECTION TO THE PONTIFICATE. HE
HAS STILL A GREAT WORK TO CONSUMMATE. A FEW YEARS MORE
WILL ROUND OUT HIS PROVIDENTIAL MISSION. MAY GOD GRANT
THEM TO HIM !

The above is a genuine photograph taken from life ; the ONLY photograph oj
the Holy Father taken since his elevation to the pontifical chair.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXIV. FEBRUARY, 1897. ' No. 383.

DWELLINGS OF THE POOR AND THEIR

MORALITY.

BY GEORGE McDERMOT, C.S.P.

MOVEMENT in European towns and cities
during the whole of this generation to provide
good and convenient dwellings for the laboring
classes has proceeded mainly from the convic-
tion that a great deal of the vice and crime
among them was in some way connected with the quality of
their abodes. It was observed by those who mixed a good
deal with these classes that there was a considerable percentage,
which they characterized as the " residuum/' which seemed to
have no self-control, or very little. There was no thought for
the morrow in this section ; it lived for the present moment
only. This describes the prominent characteristics of the type,
of course, rather than identical tokens by which all who were in-
cluded in the term " residuum' were set apart as by a brand.
Men of all classes are units ; there is no exact resemblance be-
tween the individuals embraced in any class ; and in this sec-
tion or percentage one will find such differences as lie in the
long line between prodigal generosity and extreme selfishness.

THE HAPHAZARD LIFE OF THE AIMLESS.

But the type is there, all the same. The reckless fellow
who flings away his earnings in treating others while his wife
and family are starving and in rags, and the selfish spendthrift
who reels to his miserable room when turned out of the pub-
lic house, and finishes the night by beating his wife and chil-
dren, have a like indifference to the future and a past, like in
this, that there was no development in it : all was aimless, and

574 DWELLINGS OF THE POOR [Feb.,

went on as though it were a succession of accidents. Mistakes,
follies, offences that escaped or that may not have escaped the
vigilance of the police followed each other on the thread of
pretty constant employment, offering a strange analogy to those
novels in which incidents are hung together on the merest out-
line of a story, or rather the pretence of a story r

This product of industrial life aroused the sympathy of the
humane and the anxiety of those who took a serious view of
the future of society. It was seen that in the parts of East
London where vice and poverty were most rife the gin-palaces
flourished. Men like the late George A. Sala, with a sorrow
veiled in cynicism, were fond of pointing to a sharp contrast.
In a street of ruinous houses where the windows were broken
and the places of the panes filled with rags or covered with
boards, and on the door-steps of which dirty women and chil-
dren were to be seen all day long, there would be one house
showy and imposing as if it were some sort of public institu-
tion. This was the gin-palace. At night, when all the other
houses were black, the broad front of this one blazed with
light, and through its swinging doors were for ever passing and
repassing half-starved, ill-clad men and unsexed women. With
reference to the hideous fact that people earning barely enough
to supply the necessaries of life should squander the greater
part of it, a consensus of opinion, the value of which cannot
be questioned, offered as an explanation the condition of the
abodes in which these thriftless beings lived. This was the
experience of clergymen of all denominations, newspaper re-
porters, temperance advocates, and men of public spirit who in-
quired into the circumstances of the poor in large cities, be-
cause it was a social problem that required settlement, has
borne testimony to this. Assisted emigration or transportation
to the colonies was no longer practicable, and some other out-
let must be discovered. Indeed, at no time was either of these
two last-mentioned ways of getting rid of the most hopeless
part of the residuum very successful. Transportation, when it
was lawful to impose it, was the sentence for felonies or mis-
demeanors of a kind to which hardly any one of this particu-
lar class would be liable. It is quite possible that there were
some transported for larcenies committed while under the influ-
ence of drink and for crimes of violence which amounted to
felony ; but they were hardly numerous. The plan of assisted
emigration would not be generally in favor with these good-
for-nothing people ; but it seems certain that some in the qual-

1 897.] AND THEIR MORALITY. 575

ity of out-door paupers who had come upon the rates were
shipped off to the United States. It cannot be disputed that
governmental and quasi-governmental agencies in the United
Kingdom, and particularly " that part of it called Ireland," delib-
erately sent paupers and pauper families to this country in order
to relieve the rates, and sent persons and families who could not
fairly be brought within that description having been deprived
of their means of support by the technical operation of cer-
tain laws in order to be freed from a responsibility that
might become a danger. Since 1831 the State of New York
has been endeavoring to prevent this kind of immigration, which
really in effect was transportation to the United States, and
which survived the penal transportation to the British colonies.

PUBLIC AND PRIVATE CO-OPERATION FOR IMPROVEMENT.

But a way has been found in Great Britain to reach this
class, and with satisfactory results, by the organization of soci-
eties to provide recreation and means of cleanliness ; and side
by side with such voluntary exertions the action of the gov-
erning bodies, such as the County Council of London, to under-
take large social schemes recommended by approved experi-
ments. This County Council entered a few years ago upon a
large building enterprise at Bethnal-Green to construct model
tenement-houses for the accommodation of several thousand
persons. Perhaps as important a matter to the citizens of New
York is, that private capital has been largely invested in Lon-
don and other cities and towns in improved habitations for
working-people. Almost in every part of the city named there
are great model tenement-houses built, it is said, on the most
improved plans, so as to secure the maximum of air and light,
and yielding four or five per cent, on the capital expended.
Unhealthy districts have been swept away, and with them the
vice and crime which seemed indigenous to the soil. In the
enterprises of a similar character started in the towns and cities
of Great Britain and on the Continent of Europe the dividends
returned prove that such undertakings are good investments.
There has been an epigram framed to expres% the effect of
such a combination of good will towards the poorer classes
and the return derived from the money invested. It has
been fitly called " philanthropy and five per cent." However,
this profit, which seems from a comparison of the enterprises
everywhere to be about the average that is, five per cent. is a
decidedly large return from property held and employed under

576 DWELLINGS OF THE POOR [Feb.,

the conditions as to security of title and system of manage-
ment of these undertakings. The tenure and the system guar-
antee in normal circumstances the maintenance of that rate of
dividend at the very least.

EVIL PRE-EMINENCE OF NEW YORK.

If this be true and there seems no room for doubt some-
thing ought to be done to put New York at least on the level
of European cities in this respect. There is no city or con-
siderable town in the Old World which shows anything like
the density of population in large areas of this city. As if to
mark this serious circumstance, the Tenement-House Committee
of 1894 reports that there is only one part of one city in the
world a part of Bombay which approaches to the density of
sanitary district A of the Eleventh Ward of New York.
There were in June, 1894, in this district A of New York City
986.4 persons to the acre the district being 32 acres in ex-
tent. There is a small section in the city of Prague which is
the densest section of any town or city in Europe. It con-
tains 485.4 persons to each acre of six acres, or a very little
more than six acres ; so that in a space in New York five times
as large as the Josephstadt of Prague there are more than twice
as many fastened on each acre as on each acre of the Joseph-
stadt. The density of Paris, which is the highest in Europe for
the whole city as distinguished from a small section, is 125.2,
while New York for the entire city below Harlem has a density
of 143.2 to the acre. There are considerable spaces in this ex-
tent not occupied or very sparsely occupied ; so that the condi-
tion of things in the congested areas must be scandalously bad.

It is plainly put in the report of the committee, when it
says that in the tenement-houses, as commonly understood,
overcrowding has evil effects of various kinds. Children are
kept up and out-of-doors until midnight in the warm weather,
because the rooms are almost unendurable ; cleanliness of house
and street is difficult ; " filling the air with unwholesome
emanations and foul odors of every kind ; producing a condi-
tion of nervous*' tension ; interfering with the separateness and
sacredness of home life ; leading to the promiscuous mixing of
all ages and sexes in a single room thus breaking down the
barriers of modesty and conducing to the corruption of the
young, and occasionally to revolting crimes."

It would be idle to press on the attention of our readers
these weighty words. What has been said with regard to that

1897-] AND THEIR MORALIT-Y. 577

section of the working-people and quasi-industrial poor of
London known to certain students of social science as the
residuum is confirmed in every particular by this passage,
allowing for certain differences in the quality of the population
of both cities in the influence of social opinions and charac-
teristics and the effect of the conditions of climate and locality
in both. Yet there is a type in America the tramp which
seems to be some singular differentiation from what I may call
the " residuum ' of this country. There does not seem to be
anything like him in Great Britain or the European continent.
In the Old World the inhabitants tend to aggregation accord-
ing to certain affinities. No one ever hears of a wanderer on
the earth without aim or object, living on what he may chance
to get, and regarding work of any kind as something to be
shunned, as an evil worse than imprisonment. Some aid to the
question of how far the quality of the dwelling has shaped the
character of the less provident part of the industrial classes
might be derived from knowing the life-story of some dozen
tramps that had been brought up in different cities of the Union.

FAVORABLE CONDITIONS FOR ATTEMPTED REFORMATION.

However, the inference I draw from the existence of this
peculiar product of misfortune is that "unsocial' qualities
I use the term in its sociological acceptation are clearly
not transmitted in America, whatever may be supposed to be
the case in the Old World. If this be correct, the work of
reformation of the criminal and degraded classes in this country
offers a more hopeful field than it has in Europe ; but in Europe
the advances made have surpassed the expectation of all except
the most sanguine. For instance, in London and Glasgow
there are families with inherited pauperism and crime woven
into their moral fibre, but this cannot be said of any family in
New York ; though possibly there are families in the lower
parts of New York some member of which has been concerned
in crimes of a worse character than can be traced to the
member of any " criminal" family in either of the other cities.*
Even this is evidence of the abnormal. This is to say that
the crimes of Glasgow and London among those classes are in
accordance with a species of law not in any sense of the term
a law of heredity, but a usage of calculated lawlessness in which
the constable and the judge are figures to be taken into ac-
count, whereas in New York there is no account or hardly any

* Brace, Dangerous Classes of New York.

5/8 DlV-ELLINGS OF THE POOR [Feb.,

account taken of them. The crime committed by a New York
criminal may be more brutal and wanton that is, more dispro-
portioned to the motive but it takes place more from a wild
recklessness of temper than from systematic villany. Surely
spirits of this kind are more amenable to salutary influences
than those that had been fashioned from the cradle to their
boyhood by precept and example ingeniously contrived to efface
anything that tended to social good, and to replace it by a rule
of conduct whose object was the advantage of the criminal
commonwealth of which they were to be members. Even in
the most perverted systems there is a recognition of certain
qualities inseparable from human nature. Fidelity, obedience,
zeal, industry in the discharge of commissions assigned can be
looked for in a fraternity of swell-mobsmen as well as in the
police whose duty is to hunt them down. " The honor of
thieves' is a proverbial phrase that affords evidence of the
influence of a principle of loyalty to association which if dis-
played in the interests of society would receive universal praise,
instead of being taken as a sign of incorrigible depravity. It
seems to me " honor rooted in dishonor ' in a more generous
and hopeful sense than Launcelot's; for in truth even in such
perverted instances of life there is borne a testimony to the
beneficence of the power that created human nature borne by
that very nature itself. No one need despair of man ; his good
qualities come from Him who stamped them upon him, his
evil ones are for the most part due to ignorance, bad example,
to a host of circumstances over which he had no control.

THE WANT OF SYMPATHY BETWEEN THE CLASSES AND THE

MASSES.

One obstacle to social amelioration in America was in the
want of sympathy between rich and poor. Nowhere except in
Ireland, so far as I know, has there been so sharp a line of
distinction between the higher orders of society and the in-
dustrial classes as in this country. No one would certainly
desire to see the resemblance of relation between employers
and employed in the United States, and of landlord and tenant
in Ireland, perpetuated ; for no one would like to see in the
States what Mr. Disraeli would call two nations leading by
their hostility up to the time when destructive conflict would be
inevitable, or disaster from abroad would end the life of a na-
tion endowed with great qualities in her people, with illimitable
riches in her territory, but so guilty in her betrayal of trust

1 897.] AND THEIR MORALITY. 579

and faithless to her destiny as to be made a warning and a
wonder to all generations yet to come. It has been stated by
way of explanation of the readiness with which wealthy
Americans in London sympathize with meetings qf London
working-men, pity the sufferings of the poorer classes there,
manifest interest in the charitable organizations of that city,
while they have no pity for their fellow-citizens loaded with far
weightier burdens it has been stated by way of explanation,
that their hearts are moved by the sight of the honest Anglo-
Saxon faces in London, while no such appeal to the sentiment
of race comes in the faces of New York artisans and laborers.

I shall only observe that the London poor is of a very com-
posite origin, and the face called Anglo-Saxon if there be any-
thing in the notion at all very probably belongs to the de-
scendant of one of the Hanoverian followers and servants that
accompanied the first two Georges, and that continued to crowd
to England in the reign of George III., and whose Hessian
neighbors were heard of during the War of Independence. The
explanation is not the true one ; but it is offered to account
for an inconsistency of a very remarkable character, whose
source is to be traced not to the sympathy of race, but to the
snobbery of new wealth which dreads contact with living memo-
ries. This is unworthy of a class that ought to aim at the
realization of an aristocracy in the genuine sense of the term
the best morally. It is in their power, by taking an interest
in the welfare of their poorer fellow-citizens, to effect a union
of classes which will preserve the state against dangers from
within or from abroad.

THE TENACITY OF POPULAR GRATITUDE.

It is only a few months ago that the death-rate of infants
in a part of this city was three hundred and twenty-five in the
thousand. The application of wealth to remove such a crime
and its stigma would win for its owners the respect and grati-
tude of the people, and insure to their descendants that au-
thority which public services have always commanded. In the
gratitude of the people and their respect for the memory of
men who had done well for the state, influence has long held
its ground even when descendants generation after generation
had done everything to forfeit it. Notwithstanding the de-
generacy of great stocks in European nations, when some scion
of a house displayed the great qualities of the ancestor vener-
ated by the nation fie astonished nobody the heart of the

580 DWELLINGS OF THE POOR [Feb.,

country went out to him and in its joy regarded him as worthy
of his name and blood. In such a title as this to popular attach-
ment is the true security for family possessions found, and not
in a selfish isolation which recognizes no claim of humanity, no
law but of the pound of flesh.

CONGESTION MORE DEADLY THAN PESTILENCE.

In the report of the Tenement-House Committee, which has
been already quoted, there is a class of tenements characterized
as "veritable slaughter-houses." Public meetings of influential
citizens should be convened to elicit opinion on a state of
things which might be intelligible in Bombay or in the cities
of the Levant, those fever-nests and cholera-beds of Europe
and the East, but which no one can understand in the most
advanced nation in the world and her greatest city. Some
little restrictions have been enacted by the legislature to pre-
vent the construction of tenements for the future possessing
the. most flagrant evils of the old ones with regard to the
health of the tenants but these will accomplish very little;
and in the meanwhile as many lives will be lost, which could
be saved, as would fill a considerable city or change the
fortunes of war in a battle of the Wilderness. In the same
report we are informed that in an area of 66 tenements, con-
taining an average population of 5,460 between the years 1889
and 1893, 1,253 died. That is to say, that in a period of four
years nearly a fourth of the population died. It would require
a prodigious immigration to keep pace with that mortality if it
were general ; but there is in this specific return the pregnant
fact that the high death-rate for a succession of years is ex-
clusively owing to unsanitary conditions, and is not partly ac-
coumed for by any modifying element from another cause.
In regard to some other areas where the death-rate is high,
some qualifying circumstances have been introduced to divide
the responsibility with the heartless selfishness of the owners of
such property. For instance, nationality, habits of intemperance,
and bad or insufficient food are mentioned as elements of more
or less value in determining the death-rate, but to what ex-
tent is not and doubtless could not be suggested with any de-
gree of trustworthiness. It may be said that some of these
qualifying circumstances themselves are in a very distinct man-
ner connected with the unwholesome character of the dwellings.
It has been stated already that proneness to excessive use of
stimulants is traceable to a considerable extent to the nervous

1897.] AND Til KIR MOKA/./TY. 581

strain caused by the atmosphere, and I may add even the de-
pressing influence which the filthy appearance or the gloom
of these places is so calculated to produce. To some little
light finds its way, to some none at all ; in some cleanliness is
a difficulty, in some so degraded have the occupants become
that it is not thought of ordinarily.

That this is no rhetorical exaggeration appears from the
more eloquent figures of the report already referred to. It
tells us that in one district of the City of New York 27,952
people lived in dark rooms and 34,586 lived in badly ventilated
ones. It must not be inferred that the dark rooms were well
ventilated because they are classified as dark rooms. On the
contrary, they are so placed because God's daylight, which
brings health and healing with it, was shut out ; the air was
shut out because all the rentable space was needed by the
landlords. These are only a few facts concerning the lives of
the industrious poor of this city, but they raise the question of
the housing of the poor out of the level of mere civic amelior-
ation into the plane of national politics.

PRIVATE RIGHT THE PUBLIC WRONG.

Society cannot tolerate such crimes against it. Its exist-
ence is at stake. Immorality, recklessness, infectious disease,
menace it from those unholy abodes constructed in the religion
of Mammon. The public have shut their eyes too long, but
they cannot pretend to ignorance with the information sup-
plied by so many agencies as are now at work in the ameliora-
tion of the laboring classes. Reform must be of the most
sweeping and searching character; areas of the city must be
cleared to let in light and air, and this without regard to pro-
prietorial rights. In the interests of the people such a reform
stands on the authority of a matter of police, and nothing can
be offered against the passing of an enactment which shall
make it an effective one. Such an enactment should vest in
the local authority powers at least equal to those possessed by
the London County Council for the government of what is
called London County that is, the district outside the city
proper extending into the adjoining counties and forming in
fact the real metropolis of England.

The acquisition of property for improvement purposes is
within the power of the council in a direct way in certain
cases without any restriction at all, in an indirect way in all
cases with the restriction of an appeal to the Local Govern-

582 DWELLINGS OF THE POOR. [Feb.,

ment Board and the Privy Council, and in matters of a quasi-
legislative character with the necessity of obtaining additional
powers from Parliament. It may be said that this last fetter
will probably be removed when the city proper shall be in-
cluded within the council's jurisdiction. In that event the
council will have power within the limits of its delegation
to do all things that Parliament can do. The city of New
York should possess powers like these. They could not clash
with those of the State legislature, no more than forces moving
in different planes can come into collision.

THE DILEMMA OF TRUSTEES.

The importance of the local authority being so fortified will
be seen by the resistance offered by the trustees of Trinity
Church to the enforcement of a law requiring an adequate
supply of pure water on each story of an occupied house.
There is no reflection meant to be cast upon the defendants
by taking the case as an illustration of the views I am sub-
mitting. It is quite probable that they were discharging their
duties as trustees, and it is quite conceivable that if they had
not resisted on the line they took that some one representing the
cestuis que trust would demand an account in equity, or what-
ever proceeding in this country is analogous to that course
in England. Such powers as I suggest would override any
such questions, and their possession by the local authority
seems to be the only method of making New York a city in
keeping with her magnificent situation, her place in the com-
mercial world, and the energy of her inhabitants.

The expropriation of owners is, of course, not in itself be-
yond the competency of the legislature of a nation. Their lands
are taken for public purposes or for private purposes -under
powers conferred by the legislatures of the world every day in
the year. To confer on a railway company compulsory powers to
enter land for " lock-spitting," or marking, a line and to acquire it
afterward, is compelling a private owner to surrender his rights
and to sell them and so much of his estate as may be required
to a private purchaser. What is required in New York, I
apprehend, is a public opinion strong enough to support public-
spirited men in the State Legislature in obtaining for the local
authority such powers as have been spoken of above, powers of
city improvement to be exercised irrespective of sanitary con-
siderations, trade interests, proprietorial rights, complications of
title, or any restraint on such acquisition.

897-1

THE WINTER OF THE MIND.

583

THE WINTER OF THE MIND.

BY JESSIE WILLIS BRODHEAD.

Carry

And

THERE blows a soft day o'er.

the frozen earth.

The top-most crystals graciously
relent,

Rush into rippling smiles of merriment
Under the west wind's captivating mirth ;
Gather in tiny rills, and, hand in hand,
warm messages to sleeping seed ;

the hushed music of Pan's frozen reed,
wake spring harmonies throughout the land.

The little rills of liberated thought

Quicken to life once more the stagnant mould

Of heart and brain. Their songs enfold

The yearly miracle their love has wrought,

Of gentleness in conquest over might,

Of tenderness to set thought's soul a-flight.

584 AN ELECTION IN ANCIENT ROME. [Feb.,

AN ELECTION IN ANCIENT ROME.

BY F. W. PELLY.

IN view of the great contest, which has just closed,
for the election of a President of the United

States, it may not be inappropriate to give a brief
sketch of the elections which used to take place
in Republican Rome. We shall, of course, find
many differences both in procedure and in aim, but, on the
other hand, the similarities are so close as to be positively
laughable at times. Human nature is slow to change, and ac-
cordingly, in an election of more than two thousand years ago,
we can trace with no uncertain hand the humors, the wiles,
and even at times the veritable public issues, which sway men
in the nineteenth century elections.

Let us, as briefly as may be, cite a few instances in proof
of our assertion :

I. And first a word as to election tactics. The modern poli-
tician may start at the suggestion. He may, perhaps, have
been under the specific notion that election tactics were autoc-
thonous, and sprang up within recent years upon American
soil, and that they are to be credited to the inherent " smart-
ness ' of the party to which he belongs. Such, however, is not
entirely the case they had reached the perfection of a fine
art in days long antecedent to the fall of the Republic.

To give a case in point : It is extremely desirable that the
modern candidate should be a "church-member' of some reli-
gious organization. During the weeks preceding an election he
is expected to attend church once a week, and his attendance
is duly chronicled in the journals of the day. Even here the
venerated Roman is not to be outstripped. Cornelius Scipio
whilst at Rome " went ostentatiously every morning to pray
in the Temple of Jupiter, on the Capitol." These pious obser-
vances of his rendered him immensely popular with the people,
and secured him high office.

With candidates for office, alike in old politics and in new,
a few preliminary requirements were sometimes exacted. Either
he, or his friends, or his party, were expected to provide a
little ready money for campaign purposes. Of course, theoreti-
cally, no bribery was ever done. The laws against corruption
were too severe. It was, theoretically, impossible. Still, in

1 897.] AN ELECTION IN ANCIENT ROME. 585

ancient Roman elections we find some suspicious characters.
There were some people, called interpretes, whose business was
to bargain with the people for their votes. The sequestres held
the cash, and the dividers (divisor es) duly divided the amount,
often without pretence of concealment. Even the immaculate
Cato approved the practice in order to defeat his special foe.
History repeats itself sometimes.

It is not a thing unknown that when a man is " nursing '
the district which he wishes to represent he should wax benefi-
cent. He endows a ward in a hospital, presents a park to the
public, or otherwise marks his public spirit. But ancient Rome
is not to be outdone. Gradually it came to pass that greater
and still greater largess was demanded, and the would-be offi-
cial finally had to bear the expense of the public games. A
modern gentleman, with presidential aspirations, might be a
trifle appalled if he knew that, for a specific time, he had to
bear the entire expense of Buffalo Bill's show yet the analogy
is not overstrained.

And now we must prepare to accompany our candidate in
his walks abroad, and gather still further insight into the methods
of canvassing. The aspirant to public office, like other Roman
gentlemen of station, has a few slaves perhaps fifty or so, ac-
cording to his wealth. His cubicularius, otherwise valet, attends
upon him and brings him the robe which is so artistically whit-
ened that from it he gets his name of candidate. No tunic or
fancy waistcoat must be worn to-day, in order that the candidate
may the better bare his breast to display the wounds acquired
in the service of his country. After duly submitting himself to
the hands of another slave, his barber, and after partaking of
a slight but dainty breakfast, he is ready to go forth. It is
market-day and he must show himself to the people, or he
must go to the polling place (the Campus Martius), or pay a
visit to the Forum.

On going abroad he must be accompanied not only by his
supporters, but by a few of his personal slaves. They do not
all accompany him upon the occasion. His cook, for instance,
for whom his master had to pay more than for his doctor, or
even for a learned professor, must stay at home in order with
the other slaves, his satellites, to prepare toothsome morsels
for the candidate and his guests on their return from the fatigues
of the day's canvass. As becomes the dignity of the occasion,
his scurra, or buffoon, will not accompany him, but, on the other
hand, no self-respecting candidate would wish to show himself
without just a few of his attendant slaves.

586 AN ELECTION IN ANCIENT ROME. [Feb.,

The services of the sedan-chair men (cathedrarii) to the
number of six will be required. It is when speaking of these
that Juvenal says nasty things, and even hints at peculation :

" When through the midday glare,
Borne by six slaves and in an open chair,
The scoundrel comes who owes his blaze of state
To a wet seal and a fictitious date. . . ."

The sedan chair, however, was a necessity of locomotion the
"hansom' of the old city.

It is a warm day elections take place in July or August-
and our candidate will also need his fan-bearer (flabellifer), per-
haps even his umbrella-holder (iimbrellifer}.

His running footman (cursor) must be there ; also the lackey
to announce his coming (anteambulo), and his messenger (viator).
These would find ample occupation at such a busy time. Very
necessary, too, would be the amanuensis, or secretary. But even
a more important personage amongst his slaves must be there
too : this is the monitor or nomenclator, who judiciously prompts
his master with the name and standing of the elector advanc-
ing to meet him. An official of this kind will explain much
that is otherwise marvellous in the memories of royal or presi-
dential personages.

Horace, more suo, satirizes the performance :

" Mercemur servum qui dictet nomina, laevum
Qui fodiat latus, et cogat trans pondera dextram
Porrigere. . . ."

And he goes on to tell us what information the monitor
gives his master: "This man has great influence with the
Fabian gens, that one with the gens Velina. He can give office
to whom he will." And he instructs the candidate to address
men as "brother* or " father," according as age shall demand.

One more slave attendant we may mention, whose presence
is necessary to the great man at so critical a time. This is his
doctor (medicus)) who may administer a mild drug to his master
should occasion require (the conjunction of the stars having
been duly observed), or who may bleed him, if he see fit, on
his return home.

Arrived at the Forum, or Campus Martius, as the case may
be where, to be sure, his arrival has been duly heralded our
candidate comports himself with much dignity, and at the same
time with exceeding affability. He is immediately surrounded
by a host of political supporters and by his clients. It is a great

1 897.] AN ELECTION IN ANCIENT ROME. 587

thing for a public man to have a number of clients, either
hereditary or acquired. It adds immensely to his dignity.

At present he is the hero of the hour. He shakes hands
laboriously with everybody. He has a kind word for all. He
remembers names with marvellous facility and shows an ency-
clopaedic knowledge of each man's family concerns. That the
people may not be disappointed in having a look at their can-
didate, he posts himself on some mound or elevation. Nay
more, such is his urbanity, he even starts upon a house-to-house
visitation of the voters. We are not told whether he kisses
the babies, but every other art of modern electioneering we
feel sure that he employs.

II. Nor, if we inquire, shall we find that the election issues
were so very different from modern days. Some of the topics
sound wonderfully familiar. The tariff is, as with us, a favor-
ite plaything of the legislator. Mighty promises are made by
the incoming official, and, broadly speaking, we may say that
the burden was gradually shifted from the shoulders of the
poor until, by common consent of all parties, they were prac-
tically exempt from taxation.

Another favorite topic, not without its analogies in this
country, was the pensioning of veterans. This was done with
all the lavishness of a generous people, proud of the men who
had shed their blood in their country's service.

Another fruitful source of debate was the ager publicus,
the land which had fallen to Rome by conquest. Like our
Indian reservations and other public lands, disinterested syndi-
cates of wealthy Romans would fain get hold of them for
the benefit of the public, of course. Mighty were the conten-
tions over these public lands. On the one side we find the
orators declaiming with feeling as to the reasons which should
guide public distribution. Plentiful allusions to the " fine old
conservative ' instincts which had made the country what she
was, to the martial glories already achieved, and to the beauty
of the present system of oligarchic rule, would not be wanting.

Or we listen for a moment to the orator on the other side.
He is a dangerous person, a demagogue, possibly with a touch
of socialism in him, possibly even, in modern parlance, an anar-
chist if any one knows what that means. He proposes to sell
the ager publicus and with the proceeds buy land near Rome
for the poor. Perhaps he goes further : talks of throwing open
all offices to the plebs ; perhaps even, seeing the aggregation
of property in the hands of a few, dares to propose limitations.
A dangerous fellow this a very dangerous fellow !

588 AN ELECTION IN ANCIENT ROME. [Feb.,

The battle is fought out in the public assemblies, and the
senate reverberates with the thunder of exalted eloquence.
Sometimes a little piquancy is given to debate by the impeach-
ment of some governor who has returned, not without riches,
from his province. For, strange as it may seem, politicians in
ancient days became suddenly wealthy, just as in other lands,
and in more modern times, politicians, by some occult process,
are known to do.

Or, it is the voice of the demagogue again. (That man
will assuredly come to a bad end !) He is now proposing that,
inasmuch as the great mass of the people are becoming hope-
lessly involved in debt, the interest paid should go towards the
extinction of the principal and that interest should not exceed
five per cent.! Was ever impudence like his?

III. One word more as to the method of election. Originally
viva voce, it was finally by ballot. The magistrate sat in his cur-
ule chair and explained the object of the assembly. Each divi-
sion took up its allotted place, under the direction of a herald.
A small voting-booth (pvile) was erected in each case. The voter
passed by a narrow passage (pons) to the elevated booth. At
the entrance of the pons each citizen received his ballots, on
which the names of the candidates were inscribed. Certain
officials (custodes or rogatores] from each party were present to
guard against fraud. The magistrate declared the result, and
after a solemn prayer, and an oath to properly discharge
his duties, the candidate was pronounced duly elected. Then,
with much pomp and jubilation, he is escorted to his home.

Having duly arrived at his house, he proceeds to indulge
in his daily anteprandial luxury, a bath. A few of his slaves
assist him. The balneator (bath-room man) rubs him down ;
the * unctor anoints him ; the cinerarius curls his hair, and now
he is ready for dinner. A few friends, not more than nine,
have been asked to join with him in celebrating the occasion,
and our weaned politician may now take his ease. The waiters
(ministratores) announce dinner. It consists of two courses
(mensa prima and mensa secundd), the first of meats, the second
of fruits and sweetmeats.

After a preliminary appetizer, our friend falls to with zest.
Beginning with a few eggs, he toys with a trifle of peacock
(a great Roman luxury), pheasant, nightingale, ducks, geese,
stuffed boar, mullet, oysters, or other inviting delicacy. A cup
of old Falernkn causes him to forget the anxieties of the day,
and he is now in a position to say with a more modern wit :
" The world cannot injure me : I have dined ! "

1 897-1 ON THE RIVER OF DEATH. 589

ON THE RIVER OF DEATH.

BY MARY BOYLE O'REILLY.

HE stone-girt island stands in mid-current of that
strange, mile-deep stream which was named by
the men who knew it best, and feared it,
Saguenay River of Death. Its scant five acres
harbor but one home, and St. Alexis fishers
dropping down with the tide for a night's eel-fishing in the
waveless bay of Tadousac cross themselves hurriedly as they drift
by, and whisper to each other the Idiot's Isle.

On the tiny beach to leeward lay the chunky boats and
the drying nets of the island's inhabitants the two Gabriels, as
the village shore-folk called them, Gabriel the orphan boy of
eight, and Gabriel his grandfather, who at three-score years
and ten was once again a child. Time was when the old
man's shiftless son made one of the little household, but after
his mother's death he too had drifted down to the river-men's
camps at Tadousac, leaving the Gabriels to till the little farm
alone, or fish for food and pastime. For protector they had
only their faithful hound, Chasseur, grown old and half blind,
but perhaps still as wise as either.

"If you would only answer me, Chasseur," the boy was
wont to say, stroking the silken ears, while his grandfather sat
by the hearth talking to himself in eerie fashion. At times the
monologue was of his dead wife ; of Jean, the wayward son, or
of Gabriel's mother. Again, he would murmur of Notre Dame,
or bonne Ste. Anne, and smile as if he saw some sweet and
gracious presence. Years since he had told the wondering child
of the white spirit who had his little soul in charge. From
that day " Mon Ange ' became an unseen companion, as real
to the boy as Chasseur's sympathetic muzzle thrust into his
palm. At first Gabriel tried to steal a peep over his shoulder
at the celestial guardian, but growing older it seemed more
practical to talk with Mon Ange.

" When I say anything, grandfather," he told the old man,
: Mon Ange answers inside my ears, only I don't hear like
when you speak."

11 Eh bien, my Gabriel, but if you did sin Mon Ange would
weep."

VOL. LXIV. 38

590 ON THE RIVER OF DEATH. [Feb.,

"What is doing sin, grandfather?' questioned the child.

But the other did not seem to hear.

At the farthest point on the island from the home of the
Gabriels stood a gaunt gray ruin, roofless and windowless,
half hidden in a wooded dell. A century's years had passed
since the valley censitaire watched stone-laden bateaux put out
for the island from the northern shore. In those long-distant
days a wondering whisper ran from lip to lip that Axaux
Courcelli, a famous coureur du bois, with the king's price on
his head, was building a towered stronghold far from the ever-
watchful eye of Louis de Buade, Le Sieur Comte de Frontenac,
governor of all New France. The fame of the forest rover's
prowess, of the beautiful Algonquin who shared his troubled
lot, and of the hidden treasure which had been diverted from
the coffers of the Royal Trading Company, spread through the
Canadas. But one night Iroquois canoes sped noiselessly from
Pointe de Tous les Diables, and in the morning no one was
alive to tell the tragic story of the little island set mid-stream
in the River of Death.

Much of this Gabriel had never heard, nor would he have
understood its varied meaning. His Uncle Jean had once told
so graphically of the coming' of the Iroquois that the - little
boy lay wakeful for hours months after, waiting their second
advent. That the power of the Five Nations was gone never
to return he did not dream. He only knew that the lonely
tower was resonant with the whirr of countless wings, while in
the court-yard, flanked about with a verdant palisade, hundreds
of wild doves strutted and plumed themselves. A century before
a single cote had been the pets of the murdered Algonquin girl ;
these were their progeny, made fearless by generations of safety.

Gabriel and Chasseur loved to sit with their backs to the
old wall, and watch the shimmer of purple, gold, and green
on supple necks, as the doves flitted hither and thither through
the sunlit air.

One day, made venturesome by inactivity, Gabriel clambered
up the vine-clad walls onto a coping, while Chasseur, gravely
disapproving, watched him from the ground below. All trace
of stair within the tower had long ago disappeared, and the
floors sagged dangerously. Fearless and agile, Gabriel darted
across the creaking planks, smitten on every side by a cloud of
startled birds. The bright sunlight streaming through a case-
ment showed him a high, carved mantel-shelf such as he had
never seen before. Below on the hearth, where it had fallen

1 897-] ON THE RIVER OF DEATH. 591

from its hiding-place, lay a metal-bound box. The boy dragged
it out, and found it heavy ; he raised it, and heard a faint clink-
ing sound. With exhausting effort he got it to the window, and
thence to the ground. Once home, both the Gabriels bent
their energies to prying the cover off, and laughed gaily at
sight of the yellow coins they found. Before them lay the
treasure which the Fourteenth Louis, urged by Mme. de Monte-
span, had sought in vain. The ill-gotten sum was multiplied mar-
vellously by report that the king's ships carried across the sea.

Now the Gabriels let the coffered treasure lie by the
hearth in the little kitchen until the novelty and pleasure of
its possession had passed away. The old man had quite for-
gotten its existence when Gabriel, with a vague stirring of

WHERE THE TOWERING TWIN CAPES BROKE THE SKY-LINE.

worldly craft, carried the iron-bound box into the open and hid
it in the butt of a dead tree. Then he too forgot, and only
Chasseur, the wise one, remembered, going sometimes to in-
spect the hiding-place.

It was just after the removal of the treasure trove that
the boy found his first real plaything a baby seal, soft and
round and fearless, caught with his hands as it paddled about
in a shallow of the blue St. Lawrence. For days the grand-
father and Chasseur watched him attentively. It almost
seemed as if they thought it natural that two young things
should find their pleasure together. This almost human pet
started a train of half-wistful questions that were often none
the less puzzling for an answer given.

592 ON THE RIVER OF DEATH. [Feb.,

" Grandfather/' he began one day, " do little seals ever
grow to be salmons?'

" Yes, yes, ".said the old man, nodding wisely.

"But their fur, grandfather what about their soft fur?'

" That's to keep them warm when it's cold."

" Then why," and Gabriel sprang up, one hand on the
-seal's sleek, dark head " why did I never see a salmon in the
weir with his fur on?'

The old man only laughed softly, bending over a broken net.

Late one night Gabriel was started into wakefulness by a
hand upon his arm.

His grandfather knelt by the trundle-bed, a strangely im-
pressive figure in the wan moonlight, with upraised hand and
disordered white hair.

"Gabriel," he whispered, "listen; do you hear?' From the
tiny beach just outside the house a quavering cry rose and
fell on the still night air.

" It is the mother seal," the old man said with infinite ten-
derness ; " my Gabriel, give her the pet."

For weeks Gabriel remembered the sobbing breath of the
mother seal as she floundered across the stretch of sand ; and
from that night he was content to play only with the doves
and old Chasseur.

"Why doesn't grandmother come for us? Why did she
go away ? ' he asked next day.

" She is there," said the older child gently, pointing to where
the towering twin capes broke the sky-line across the river.
Till his lids grew heavy Gabriel lay upon the floor beside
Chasseur, idly watching a misty moonbeam strike silver from
the fish-scales by the door as he wondered how long it would
be before he could climb Cape Eternity and find the grand-
mother who had left them long ago. " I don't see how she
got up there ; even Mon Ange does not know," he whispered
to Chasseur.

The slow months wrought no change in the boy's singular
solitude. Nearer neighbors than the passing fishers there were
none, and for these the elder Gabriel showed an aversion that
was parried by their superstitious fear. For miles up and
down the river the gray and white laurentian hills opened
only on lonely valleys where deserted homes crumbled to their
decay. But while the little lad grew toward boyhood, happy
and ignorant as any bird, at times a great longing came upon
him for something he could not define. Once the silent, state-

1897.] ON THE RIVER OF DEATH. 593

ly sailing of a square-rigged timber-ship bound for the Philip-
pines brought a choking lump to his throat and a sudden mist
of tears to his bright eyes. When one night a Quebec steamer
sped past the island all ablaze with light, the ponderous throb,
throb of her engines mingling in solemn rhythm with the pierc-
ing sweetness of violins, Gabriel flung himself upon the ground
beside Chasseur, sobbing as if his heart must break. The aged
child watched the outburst anxiously, a nameless fear showing
in his bleared eyes, and a spasmodic trembling stirring his
placid face.

"Is it the pain, petit?' he whispered; "sometimes I too
have the pain here/' And he touched his forehead.

In a dim way Gabriel knew that his grandfather had not
always been thus, and that his affliction had come upon him
suddenly, not with advancing years. Instinctively he con-
nected the all but fatal accident with the log-drivers and their
dangerous work, because of his grandfather's feverish excite-
ment as on each succeeding spring the winter's harvesting of
timber came down the swollen river till the current was gorged
with the floating wealth. Then, too, Chasseur, the wise, he of
the longest memory, grew strangely restive and growled vic-
iously at the first crunching noise of the drive. The old man
would cower down in the little kitchen, his troubled eyes on
the two, his withered face sunk on his open palms. For
hours the air resounded with the sharpened swash of the
fretted waters, the savage grinding and butting of the logs
and the short, hoarse cries of the river drivers. Then it was'
over, and the elders of the trio became once more their silent,
peaceful selves ; but the little boy pondered for weeks together
on the untold story. And again Mon Ange was reticent.

It was an autumn day, clear and sharp, with a sparkle of
frost in the air, and the Gabriels, with Chasseur, went out with
the ebb to fish in Atlantic tide-water. When they came home-
ward it was late afternoon, and the hush of the waning season
lay on the river. Here and there in the sun-flecked waters,
that are black from the sap of hemlock forests, a snow-white
porpoise played fearlessly, the only life in the fishless stream.
A heron with trailing legs rose from the farther bank, and, cry-
ing twice or thrice, disappeared in a wild ravine. No sound
came from the wind-bent trees crowning the Laurentides, where
they towered a sheer thousand feet in air. For many minutes
Gabriel sat motionless, the useless oars unshipped, as the boa-t

594 ON THE RIVER OF DEA TH. [Feb.,

glided upstream on the strong tide. Never before had he felt
so keenly the strangeness of his home. The older Gabriel was
watching the younger, a meaningless content written upon his
face.

u Grandfather," began Gabriel, breaking a long silence, " who
made all this ? The hills and the river, I mean."

" Le bon Dieu, my Gabriel," said the other softly ; " have I
not told you ? '

" Bien sur ; but who is le bon Dieu?' insisted the boy.

A swift, beautifying smile flashed across the wrinkled face ;
then was gone, and instead grew a look that was almost pain.

"What was it, petit?' he asked, and Gabriel repeated the
question. For a little while the elder child murmured to him-

THE LOG-DRIVERS AND THEIR DANGEROUS WORK.

self, then his voice trailed away into silence. A shadow fell on
the boat, and looking up Gabriel saw that the current had
brought them to the Capes de Dieu, whose bay no line can
fathom. Before the black front of Trinity two bald-head eagles
wheeled on wide-spread wing before their airy nest. A mile
beyond Eternity a ribbon-like flight of southward-speeding
birds was flung across the sky. All these wild things could
come and go at will, while only he of all the world was left
so strangely lonely that he did not even know the men upon
the river. A sob rose in his throat ; but Chasseur, wise and
loving, laid his handsome head across the boy's knee, a com-
fortable murmur rumbling in his deep throat.

1 897.] ON THE RIVER OF DEATH. 595

" Gabriel," said the grandfather next morning, " what did
you say ? '

" I only called Chasseur to come and eat," answered the
.boy.

" No," cried the old man, his bronzed face working pitifully
in his effort at memory, " it was in the boat you said, you said "

" Oh ! I asked who is le bon Dieu ? '

" Via," exclaimed the other. " In the night it made the
pain ; now we will go to see."

Chasseur, listening with his head cocked knowingly, barked
his satisfaction, and followed to the boat. Gabriel's eyes were
shining with excitement as their bow swung upstream toward
the hamlets in Ha Ha Bay. Never before had they gone so
boldly into the world of men. A little fishing fleet had just
reached home, and half the village of St. Alphonse were gath-
ered to watch their landing. But of this the elder Gabriel
seemed unaware. His dim eyes saw only a tall, slight figure,
made noticeable by the black soutane, standing just beyond
the crowd. Chasseur, suddenly become a jealous guardian, kept
the curious at a distance while the two Gabriels approached
the cure". Some long slumbering memory carried the old man's
trembling hand to his cap ; and Gabriel, ignorant but adaptable,
also bared his head. The cur looked from one to the other
in a grave, kindly way that belied his youthful face.

" What may I do for you, my friends ? ' he asked at last,
seeing that neither spoke.

Again the smile, swift, sweet, apologetic, swept across the
patient face. "Gabriel," he said gently, "what did you say?'

" I said," began Gabriel obediently, " I said that is, I asked
who made the Laurentides."

The priest looked down at his small questioner, no trace
of surprise in his glance.

" Eh bien," he said, ".I think I can tell you. Will you both
come home with me?'

" Ici, Chasseur," cried Gabriel, and the islanders followed
their guide to the small rectory. A wealth of late white asters
bloomed in the little garden, and to these the aged child went
instantly. Chasseur stretched himself at the old man's feet,
watching the stranger and his little playfellow with unblinking
eyes. For a long time they talked, slowly, quietly, but Gabriel's
sun-browned cheeks were hot from excitement. Without warn-
ing he had come into a new world, and the earth he knew was
of a sudden peopled with the unseen.

596

ON THE RIVER OF DEATH.

[Feb.,

14 Enough for to-day," said the cur, rising at length ; " let
us go to your grandfather."

A dozen steps and they stood beside the quiet figure and
its half-suspicious guard.

"Bon Gabriel," said the priest, "do you not know me,
Julien Damast?' But the old man only smiled, and felt un-
easily for his cap.

"Do you know, grandfather?' cried Gabriel, amazed; but
the cure motioned for silence.

" Bon Gabriel," he said again, and the boy noticed with
quick perception that he spoke very simply and slowly, "will
you not bring the child again before many days? Yes? That
is good. Enfin, I will go with you to the boat."

THE ISLANDERS WENT BACK TO THEIR ISLAND.

So the islanders went back to their island, having furnished
a day's gossip to the habitans of St. Alphonse ; but through
the haze that clung about the elder Gabriel one trenchant fact
had cleft its way. The boy must go again to Ha Ha. And
go he did, his grandfather and Chasseur attending.

The weeks passed, and the chill winds swept down from the
north, freezing the river; but still the cure of St. Alphonse said
always, " Bon Gabriel, will you not bring the child again before
many days?' And the old man murmured an affirmative.

" Are you never lonely on the island ? ' the priest asked
the boy.

1897.] ON THE RIVER OF DEATH. 597

" Oh, no, mon pere ! We have fine plays, Chasseur, Mon
Ange, and me."

" Who is Mon Ange?' questioned the other.

Gabriel laughed merrily.

" Why I thought you would know Mon Ange/' he answered,
and then told all that he could explain.

When the ice stretched strong and unbroken from shore to
shore Gabriel went alone to St. Alphonse on skates or snow-
shoes, and now he even carried a ragged book.

" Gabriel," said the cur during one lesson, u is your grand-
father never better than when I saw him."

" Never, mon pere," answered the boy simply. He was still
too new to worldly ways of thought to realize the immensity
of his elder's loss. A sudden brightness as of unshed tears
rose in the other's eyes.

" My child," he said sadly, " I knew your grandfather far
otherwise. Shall I tell you ? Yes. Lay down the book. This
is the greater lesson. It was over a dozen years ago, up the
river at Chicoutimi. Your grandfather was strong then, and
still skilful on the cribs. Alors, one spring when the logs
came down there was a deadlock that piled up forty feet, halt-
ing the current. It lasted for days, and we that were boys
heedless ones played on rafts in the shallow pools at the foot
of the incline. Our last day's sport was broken early one
afternoon when suddenly the water began to rise. They had
pried the key-log free, and loosed the jam without warning !
A little more, and we boys on our frail raft would be ground
to death bien sur. On the shore they screamed. Then they
cried out on seeing your grandfather. He had sprung on a
great square timber and was dashing it toward us by means
of a driving-pole. To-night I can even remember that a young
dog crouched by his feet, a dog like your old Chasseur. Per-
haps it is the same. Who knows ? Not you, nor I. We could
hear the barking of the great sticks when your grandfather
jumped on our raft. Next minute we were safe in shore safe
all save our rescuer. As we leapt, the light raft tipped and
sank, carrying him under. Before he could rise the logs came
thundering down. They dragged him out, and he lay as one
dead for weeks. When he grew strong the injury still re-
mained. He was our hero. Alas that great deeds are so soon
forgotten ! Your grandmother was a proud woman. She could
not bear that any one should point the finger of scorn at her
husband, so she went to the island. Voila ! you have the story.
Now it is time you went home."

598 ON THE RIVER OF DEA TH. [Feb.,

As Gabriel sped through the vast loneliness of the north-
ern night the fitful flashes that stream from the unfound
pole lightened the gray-white sky. But for the snap of frost-
riven branches, or the echoing boom of a bursting tree on the
wooded shores a great silence brooded over the River of Death.
Beneath his feet a slow, ponderous heaving of the ice told that
the thaw was at hand. A little later and the mounds and
floes would rush down to the great river and thence to the
mighty gulf.

Chasseur rose from the door-stone with a grunt of satisfac-
tion as Gabriel flashed into sight. With the quickened instinct
bred of his free life the boy knew without words that all was
not well. In the firelit kitchen his grandfather sat talking
aloud, and fingering the golden length of his dead wife's wed-
ding-chain reverently as it were a rosary.

" Gabriel ! ' he called excitedly ; " ici, mon Gabriel, Jean has
come back again."

A tall, unkempt figure slouched out of the shadow. " Make
haste, gargon," said the stranger brusquely ; " I'm starved with
the cold."

Gabriel examined the new-comer from head to foot in one
swift glance. " Be careful or you'll tread on Chasseur, Uncle
Jean," was all he said.

An ill wind had suddenly swept through the erstwhile peace-
ful house. The old man babbled no more of bonne Ste. Anne.
Sighing, he hid the treasured wedding-chain beneath his pillow
and covered it out of sight. Even Mon Ange withheld his
wordless communings, being perhaps as sad as his small charge
was wrathful.

"Is he always like that now?' asked Jean, listening to the
low-voiced monologue, brutal contempt in his tone.

" No ; only once in a long time," answered the boy half-de-
fiantly. It was his first lie.

All next day Jean spent in a minute and furtive inspection
of the little house from sills to rafters. Gabriel came upon
him in the kitchen trying to bully his father. With a low
growl Chasseur sprang at him savagely, and had to be hauled
off by the frightened Gabriel.

"You're not angry with me, Jean ? ' asked the father timidly,
watching his son's sullen face turned toward the frozen river ;
"on my life I know not of any silver."

Were he asked for yellow gold he might have remembered
the treasure, .but money as money had little meaning to the
islanders. Only Gabriel and Chasseur, as they listened, looked

1897-] ON THE RIVER OF DEATH. 599

long into each other's eyes, and stood silent. From them
Jean would never learn of the box in the rotting tree.

Another day, and Jean came back to the little house white
and trembling. He had risked and almost lost his worthless
life in a fruitless search of the ruined tower. The Tadousackers
who talked so glibly of the old forest rover's buried wealth
knew not of what they spoke. How he hated them all in hjs
disappointment !

His journey vain, he was now a prisoner on the island.
The floes were afloat, and drowned ice is a dangerous enemy
to the stanchest boat. For days Gabriel and Chasseur kept an
armed truce, guarding the defenceless old man. One night
they silently watched Jean measuring by finger-lengths the
long gold chain that had been Dame Gabriel's marriage gift
from a grateful, if impractical, Quebec mistress. For a long
time the boy wondered on the meaning of the greedy look
that flashed and faded in his uncle's eyes. If Chasseur knew
he could not tell, and once more Mon Ange was silent.

On the day when the last ice drifted by, opening the way
for Jean's return to Tadousac, the world seemed waked to a
new life. A delicate gray-green mist clung to either bank,
with beyond the dazzling whiteness of the arctic world. Far
across the black waters a wild bird called to its- mate. A lit-
tle bell on a chapel of the Recollets rang soft and low for a
feast. But calm and peaceful as it seemed, there was some-
thing wrong about the river.

Chasseur felt it and whined dismally, standing upon the
brink. Instinctively Gabriel knew it, and warned his uncle,
who was restlessly launching a boat. Even the grandfather
scanned the stream with strangely observant eyes. But, river-
man that he was, Jean failed to hear the whispering sound as
of myriad distant voices that ran close to the surface of the
water. As he leapt into the boat some inches of shining
chain slipped from a pocket.

Instantly the old man saw it and sprang toward him.

" Margaret, my Margaret!' he cried; " give it to me."

Next moment he staggered back stunned by the descend-
ing blow. With a cry Gabriel ran to him, but Chasseur dashed
silent and savage toward the man in the boat. Had he
reached him vengeance swift and sure would have followed,
but the old hound fell short of the mark. Standing shoulder
deep in the icy water he bayed maledictions at the receding
figure. It seemed a long time before the old man roused and
struggled to his feet.

6oo

ON THE RIVER OF DEATH.

[Feb.,

" Mes amis/' he stammered, a strange new light in his
eyes, " are the children safe ? It was none too soon. Merci
le bon Dieu, I can still run the logs. Let no one tell Margaret.
She would even scold." And he smiled the tender smile of
one whom a great love has made timid. Then he glanced at
the frightened child. " Pauvre petit, was your brother upon
the raft ? Go home, that your mother may kiss away the
tears." As he spoke a truant log bounded down stream, show-
ing black on the flood that was smitten golden from shore to
shore by the slanting beams of the setting sun. " Look ! " he

As HE SPOKE A TRUANT LOG BOUNDED DOWN STREAM.

cried, " the jam is loosed at last. What is that?" and he
pointed to the now distant boat. Then : " It is Jean, my
Jean, and the logs are coming down. Let no one tell Mar-
garet." With the strength of his youth he ran to a high-
beached canoe, running it into the stream. Gabriel, stricken
motionless with surprise that was almost terror, saw as through
a veil that his grandfather knelt in the stern of the little shell,
paddling with long, powerful strokes. In the bow stood Chas-
seur, his faithful eyes fixed on his old master. A mile away
Jean was making frantic signals of distress. In his blind haste
he had made off in a rotten boat, and was baling with des-
perate energy.

It was some time before the boy knew that the river was

1 897.] ON THE RIVER OF DEATH. 60 1

hidden beneath a great moving floor. Then his ears were
deafened with the thundering noise of the drive.

In mid-stream the tossing boats were already surrounded by
the crowding, crashing logs. Father and son, with Chasseur,
sprang onto the nearest timbers. A hoarse cry from the river
drivers came to them all too late. u O-hu-hee-hoi ! ' called the
old river-man in answer, and the voice that had mumbled for
years rang sharp and clear. Jean stumbled and would have
fallen only his father caught him to his breast. " It is the
death, my Jean," he said in the other's ear ; " let us prepare."
The enfeebled son broke into a passion of nervous tears, but
the old man never faltered. Could the cure have seen him
then he would have known that at last bon Gabriel had climbed
to Sinai.

" It is well, my Jean ; it is well," he murmured thoughtfully,
his arm round the other's shoulders ; " but I would that you
had been spared. It will, break the mother's heart. My Mar-
garet, my Margaret ! Look ! ' he cried above the awful roar,
" it may be we are to live. The logs are closing in ! '

For a moment Gabriel saw his grandfather running the
logs, apparently guiding Jean, and with Chasseur leaping before
him. Beyond and all about lay a chaotic, grumbling mass, but
the spare figure with white, wind-blown hair seemed to domi-
nate the rafts. Then a great butt log sprang upward just before
him, breast-high, in the stream ; and Gabriel sank to his knees
with a moaning cry. When he looked again the rafts were
gone, and the river all but deserted. Only a couple of men on
a crib were poling slowly about searching for something. Be-
side him on the beach lay his grandfather's old coat ; before
him the still black waters. The men on the crib might search
for ever and aye for the three who had gone together into the
River of Death !

The tide ebbed and the tide rose, darkness fell and the sun
shone again before Gabriel realized that the three would never
return. Twilight had shrouded the rugged valley in tender
shadows when a gray fishing-boat drifted slowly into Ha Ha
Bay. Village children hailed it merrily, but the boy who sat
in the stern did not seem to hear. Only when kindly hands
had made the old boat fast did Gabriel raise his head to find
the cure bending over him.

11 They did not come back," he said almost dreamily. " O
mon pere ! where have they gone ? '

602 THE CHURCH AS A GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY. [Feb.,

THE CHURCH AS A GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY.

BY CHARLES H. MCCARTHY.

fVERY thoughtful student of American history
must have observed with surprise the abruptness
with which it is invariably introduced. This
criticism applies with equal force to all writers
upon the subject, whether eminent or obscure.
A brief eulogy upon the genius and character of Columbus, a
rapid sketch of the more important voyages of the Spanish,
English, and French navigators, and the reader finds himself,
after the perusal of a few pages, entertained by a minute and
often a tedious narrative of the struggling settlement at James-
town. The hardships endured by the early colonists taught
them to rely upon their powers, and accustomed them to those
habits of self-government which laid the foundation of their
future greatness. Indeed, if we wish to clearly comprehend
the growth of civil liberty in America, no fact in any way af-
fecting the first settlers is too insignificant to be recorded, and
no objection is made to the fulness which characterizes nearly
every work upon this portion of our country's history ; but if
it be granted that the career of the United States has exerted
an influence upon the progress of liberty and civilization, the
nature of the forces which made known to Europeans the ex-
istence of a new world is worthy the most patient investiga-
tion. Of the causes which led to the discovery of America one
at least was remote ; others had their origin long before the
birth of Columbus; and an attempt to trace the growth of all
would form a lengthy introduction to a history of the United
States ; the historian must commence at some point, and it is
objected only that he begins too near the middle of his sub-
ject. However, to omit all reference to the most important
element in the discovery is to slight that portion of historical
writing which possesses a peculiar charm to the student who
looks for something beyond the barren details of chronology.

EARLY VOYAGES OF THE MONKS.

In tracing the progress of geographical knowledge it is not
essential to the present argument to describe any events of

1897-] THE CHURCH ASA GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY. 603

earlier date than the eighth century. To the most intrepid
explorers of that time little was known of the world except
Europe and the .narrow strip of Africa to the north of the
Sahara ; in Asia the plains of Turkestan marked the north-
eastern, and the Indies the eastern, boundary of civilization,
though in reality an accurate knowledge of the East did not
extend far beyond the shores of the Mediterranean.

From the death of St. Patrick scarcely half a century had
passed when Irish missionaries engaged earnestly in the war
which paganism was waging* upon the Christian world. Their
piety and eloquence was rewarded by the conversion of north-
ern England ; they crossed to Burgundy and Flanders, and
penetrated even into Italy and Switzerland, where the canton
of St. Gall still commemorates the labors of an Irish monk.
Such zeal could not be confined within the limits of the known
world, and their discovery of Iceland, early in the eighth cen-
tury, made a contribution to the geography of the north. The
Norwegians, who afterward visited the island, were converted
to Christianity and pushed thence to the inhospitable shores of
Greenland. Indeed, it is claimed that America, even in that
early age, was temporarily added to the realms of Christendom ;
but upon this it is not necessary to insist, as the Norse dis-
covery and settlement of America is still a subject of contro-
versy, and there are abundance of facts without invading the
regions of doubt.

THE CRUSADES STIMULATE DISCOVERY.

The remarkable enterprises known as the Crusades added
something to the ideas entertained of the East beyond the
country of Palestine, and in those protracted wars Europeans
became familiar with the luxuries of the Indies. Even the
class of writers who denounce as fanatic the soldiers of the
cross admit that those huge invasions of Asia stimulated
the curiosity as well as the piety of the pilgrim, and it is, per-
haps, as much to the spirit thus excited as to the allurements
of trade that the uncles of Marco Polo found their way, late
in the twelfth century, to the court of Genghis Khan, whose
military successes swept away all political barriers from the
China Sea to the river Dnieper. In the boundless territory
ruled by his descendants the traveller was free to visit places
of interest, and the trader, in perfect security, to attend to
the requirements of commerce. To a degree before or since
unknown central Asia was thrown open to the enterprise of

604 THE CHURCH ASA GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY. [Feb.,

Christendom, and the liberal policy adopted by the illustrious
founder of this house characterized also the government of his
grandson Kublai Khan, the ablest of his successors. To his
enlightened court thronged priests, princes, and soldiers. The
most fanciful creation of romance has scarcely equalled in in-
terest many actual occurrences of the fourteenth and the pre-
ceding centuries ; of the recorded adventures of those times
some served the purpose of entertaining a generation, and
then passed for ever into oblivion ; others, more fortunate in
their connection with important events, survive in all the
charm of their original attractions. Marco Polo's account of
Asiatic magnificence and Eastern civilization is of interest in
modern times chiefly because of its influence upon the mind
and its effect upon the memorable voyages of Columbus. This,
however, was not his only service to mankind. In the thir-
teenth century he penetrated into the remote East far beyond
the conquests of Alexander, and even the conjectural regions
indicated on the charts of Ptolemy ; he first made known to
Europeans the greatness of the Mogul emperor who, through
both Polo and his uncles, sent to Rome several embassies for
missionaries. The Holy Father was not indifferent to such
appeals, and Polo had scarcely quitted his royal employment
at Pekin when, in 1295, a Franciscan friar, John of Monte
Corvino, began his labors in the most populous portion of the
pagan world. Years of sacrifice and toil were finally rewarded
by a multitude of converts ; the faithful missionary was joined
by numerous coadjutors, and soon after consecrated Arch-
bishop of Pekin, then called Cambulac. The beginning of the
fourteenth century saw Christianity flourishing in all the prin-
cipal cities of Eastern China ; the fair province was illumi-
nated by the light of the gospel, and it then seemed as if the
religion and the civilization of Europe was about to become
permanently established among the disciples of Confucius.

APPEARANCE OF THE MOSLEMS.

But the Mongolian dynasty was already tottering on the verge
of destruction ; half a century ended the prosperity of Chris-
tianity in the East, and one hundred and forty years after the
death of Genghis Khan his feeble descendants were driven
from power by a revolt of the native Chinese. Night came
down on the East ; Islam recovered its grasp over central
Asia, and the world of Christendom was again contracted to
almost its former limits. With the narrow policy which has

1897.] THE CHURCH ASA GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY. 605

distinguished them down to our own time, the Chinese dy-
nasty kept foreigners at a distance. Missionaries were regu-
larly despatched from Avignon, but they went forth into dark-
ness and were heard of no more. In speaking of monks even
Gibbon is forced to acknowledge that "a philosophic age has
abolished, with too liberal and indiscriminate disdain, the
honors of those spiritual heroes"; and he adds: "The meanest
among them are distinguished by energies of mind." Another
Protestant writer says that nearly all our information of cen-
tral Asia, in that age, is derived from the Franciscans, to
whom we are indebted for the first mention of Cathay.

The enterprising cities of Venice and Genoa were not slow
to profit by the intelligence of the ecclesiastics, and the mer-
chant followed fast in the footsteps of the priest. A regular
overland trade was begun with the East, and Europe soon
found that the pearls, spices, and silks of India had become
articles of necessity. This profitable commerce was brought to
an end, however, by the fall of Constantinople in 1453, and
henceforth the fanaticism of the victorious Mohammedans
made intercourse with the East both hazardous and expensive.
Columbus, just emerging from boyhood, must have foreseen
the disastrous effects of Ottoman supremacy upon the com-
merce of his native city ; but the same force which opened up
a route to the order of St. Francis operated with undiminished
vigor in another direction.

DISCOVERIES OF THE PORTUGUESE.

Early in the fifteenth century Prince Henry of Portugal,
surnamed the Navigator, withdrew from the gayety of a court
in which his genius promised a brilliant career, and dedicated
the remainder of an active life to the advancement of Chris-
tianity and the welfare of his country. The unsettled state of
that kingdom compelled him sometimes to devote a year or
two to the service of the public ; but, with these occasional
interruptions, annually from 1418 to 1460, the year of his
death, expeditions under his direction left Point Sagres, or
Cape St. Vincent, where he had built an observatory and
gathered round him for the advancement of learning scientific
men from every enlightened nation of Europe. The western
coast of Africa was gradually explored and at length a mari-
ner was found daring enough to pass Cape Bojador. An ac-
count of these discoveries was promptly conveyed to the pope ;
his approval of the enterprises was solicited, and Henry, fore-
VOL. LXIV. 39

606 THE CHURCH AS A GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY. [Feb.,

seeing that many voyages would follow, prayed for a " con-
cession in perpetuity to the crown of Portugal of whatever
lands might be discovered beyond Cape Bojador to the Indies
inclusive," especially submitting to His Holiness that "the
salvation of the natives was the principal object of his labors."
No such request was ever refused at Rome, and the Holy
Father promptly complied with the prince's petition. A bull
then issued was afterward confirmed by Popes Nicholas V. and
Sixtus IV. The limit of every expedition was appropriately
marked by a stone cross, and the navigator who erected it
farthest south was invariably rewarded by the generosity of
Henry. The hope of reward encouraged many who would
have been deterred by the misfortunes of their predecessors ;
but notwithstanding the approbation of the church and the
inducements of the prince, it required more than fifty years
for the timid mariners of that day to creep southward along
the five thousand miles of the African coast. At length, in
1487, a captain named Diaz doubled the Cape of Good Hope,
and eleven years later Da Gama, following the same route,
arrived at Calicut, on the western coast of Hindustan. The
Portuguese thus be.came sole masters of the Indies, which they
possessed for more than a century. On June I, 1491, over fif-
teen months before the discovery of America, a Catholic church was
dedicated on the banks of the Congo and many converts were
made by the zealous missionaries of Portugal. The physical
features of Ethiopia were explored by or correctly reported to
them by native chiefs, and their charts of that region are re-
markable for accuracy. The existence on their maps of lakes,
rivers, and mountains long doubted by men of science have
been verified by the greatest explorers of our own time.
Prince Henry has been justly called the originator of "con-
tinuous modern discovery " ; the impetus which his genius
gave to maritime science has been the subject of deserved
praise, but the motive which urged him to persist in finding a
passage to India is seldom sufficiently emphasized. As he re-
peatedly asserts in his letters, it was neither the wish to
extend the dominions of Portugal nor the desire to engage in
profitable trade with the natives of Africa, that sustained for
a lifetime his noble efforts ; though not indifferent to the ad-
vantages which his country derived from those discoveries, his
great anxiety was to confer on the heathen the blessings of
Christianity.

As already mentioned, the destruction of Italian com-

1 897.] THE CHURCH ASA GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY. 607

merce followed the fall of Constantinople and forced the enter-
prising seamen of Venice and Genoa to seek service in other
lands. More than any other it was this cause which drove
Columbus from his native city and conferred on Spain the hon-
or of patronizing the greatest maritime exploit recorded in his-
tory. This same cause gave the Cabots, with their vast dis-
coveries, to England and Verazzano to France.

As Portugal was the centre of nautical activity in the gen-
eration following the death of Prirrce Henry, there is nothing
singular in the appearance, toward the latter part of the fifteenth
century, of Columbus in the streets of Lisbon. Already cher-
ishing projects of discovery, he eagerly took part in the expe-
ditions of the Portuguese, in whose service he sailed over every
league of the North Atlantic. Disgusted with the baseness of
the king, he eventually quitted Lisbon for the Spanish court.
Of his varying fortunes in that country it is necessary to recall
only the memorable interview of Father Perez and Isabella,
when considerations of enlarged dominions and the assurance
of boundless wealth were disregarded ; it was an appeal to the
religious principle in her nature that finally determined the
queen to assume all the risks of the experiment.

RELIGIOUS MOTIVES OF COLUMBUS AND MAGELLAN.

The character of Magellan alone, among the heroes of that
age, will bear comparison with that of Columbus. A biogra-
pher of the former tells us that he was singularly free from
every trace of bigotry and that the religious idea had taken
deep root in his mind ; yet this same writer is perplexed to
find the principle which sustained him in his severest trials.
The theories of revenge upon his sovereign, of ambition, and
of noble birth have all been offered in explanation, and each
has been set aside as unsatisfactory. From the same author
we learn that Magellan's influence secured, in eight days, the
conversion of 2,200 natives of an island in the Philippine group.
His officers and men, anxious to begin barter with the people,
were . for opening their booths at once ; but, with a noble dis-
regard of all temporal interests, he first undertook to convert
the entire population of the islands. The closing scenes of
his eventful history, if studied in the proper spirit, would ex-
plain many achievements of that restless age.

The inability to understand the career of either Columbus
or Magellan is only another proof that non-Catholic writers,
no matter how candid, cannot fully appreciate the motives

6o8 THE CHURCH ASA GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY. [Feb.

which animated even the greatest of heroes in the Ages of
Faith, and nothing has done more to darken the records of
the past than the so-called school of modern historical criticism.
The great deeds of Diaz, Da Gama, Columbus, and Magellan
were the natural outcome of previous activity; the cause of
that activity is to be sought in the lives of those who carried
the gospel to the confines of the known world. What urged
the disciples of Columba over the billows of the North Atlan-
tic to the distant shores of Iceland ; what attracted the Crusa-
ders to Palestine ; what sent the Franciscans to China and the
valley of the Congo ? Something nobler than curiosity, some-
thing higher than ambition, something beyond even the hope
of fame. It was the Divine command: " Go ye into the whole
world and preach the gospel to every creature." This it was
that gave the first unquestioned proof of the form and mag-
nitude of the globe. It is not claimed that the church, as
an organization, fitted out expeditions to enlarge the bounds
of geographical knowledge ; but history shows that the apos-
tolic spirit, with unerring instinct, led her fearless mission-
aries to every land inhabited by man, leaving to modern geo-
graphical societies the discovery of some thousand square miles
of barren waste. - The encouragement of the church in this as
in all departments of human activity marked every enterprise
conducive to the welfare of man.

Were these arguments distinguished by entire novelty, or
drawn, even in part, from Catholic sources, it might seem
necessary to add a word in their defence ; but as the facts set
forth may be found scattered over the pages of Protestant writers
from Humboldt down to Justin Winsor, they are submitted
without comment.

1897.]

ECHOES.

609

ECHOES.

In Memortam.

BY BERT MARTEL.

F a love that did not last,
Of a happiness now past,
Of a dream that flittered fast,

These fairy echoes tell.
Lovelier far than violet pale,
Lovelier far than girlhood frail,
Lovelier far than lover's tale,

Is their silent spell.

They tell me of the tears we shed,
They tell me of the farewell said,
They tell me of a mother dead,

Sad-sweet echoes they.
Still a magic's in their strain,
Still a pleasure's in their pain,
How I wish them back again

When they flee away.

610 A STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY. [Feb.,

A STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY.

SECOND PAPER.
BY APPLETON MORGAN.

F one of the readers of THE CATHOLIC WORLD-

who may have done me the honor to follow these
papers should be asked what, if he could lift
the curtain of ages and peep in upon the London
life of Elizabethan England, would be the most
interesting sight he could possibly choose to see, I doubt if he
could mention anything more interesting than would be a
glimpse of Shakespeare in his study, at work upon one of his
plays. Would such a reader credit me if I asserted that, so
minute has been the modern school of Shakespearean study,
we can actually lift a corner of . that curtain and afford him
just that glimpse ?

We have seen that, as these various companies of actors
performed the pieces written or rewritten for them, and as the
report of these performances reached the court, it began to be
the custom for the queen to signify to her lord chamberlain
her royal pleasure that one or another of these companies
should be summoned to act, before the court itself, one of the
pieces that had won the applause of popular audiences outside.
On conveying this royal invitation to the company selected, the
lord chamberlain would also demand that the repertoire of the
company be delivered to him, and on selecting a particular
play would himself read or order his master of the revels to
read it over in order to be sure that nothing distasteful to
her majesty's ear should fall from the actor's lips in her pres-
ence. When a particular play was thus selected by him it
would be referred back to the company with orders to pro-
duce that play at a certain date, at a certain palace. The
manager of the company would then send for the author,
inform him that his play had been selected, and give him the
opportunity to rewrite or revise or prune it as he thought best
an opportunity which we may be sure that the author, in
view of the great distinction of having his play witnessed by
royalty and his anxiety to avoid any possible pretext for a
reconsideration by the lord chamberlain, would very zealously

1897.] A STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY. 611

and sedulously improve. This rewriting, or improving, of an
old play was, ib appears, in the turgid speech of the day, called

" augmenting ' or " newly augmenting ' a play.

HIS FIRST PLAY IN PRINT.

Now, in the winter of 1598-1599 this opportunity, came to
Shakespeare, and in due course he was notified that one of his
plays had been selected for presentation at court. It is
.believed that on this occasion the play selected was his
"Love's Labour's Lost"; that he rewrote the finer parts of it,
and that, when these rewritten parts were handed to the
printers, these printers were misled by the fact that the emen-
dations were either written on slips not intelligibly marked as
substitutes for the original text, or because they were written
on the margins of the text, or by some other means, and so
not only printed the original but the rewritten text, so that
both of these stand to-day. And this accident, as we claim,
actually lets us into the secret of Shakespeare in his workshop
-reveals to us his method of amplifying and amending his own
passages, of recatching the drift of his own earliest purposes or
intuitions, lingering over them and getting more and more out
of them " striking the second heat upon the muses' anvil," as
Ben Jonson left us his assurance that it was Shakespeare's
wont to do. (It is true that, by that perversity which will
never permit us to accept any verbal statement of one of
Shakespeare's contemporaries without being pointed to a dis-
tinct contradiction thereof either by the individual himself or
by some one of his confreres, Ben Jonson himself told
Drummond of Hawthornden that " Shakespeare wanted art."
But the instance we are about to dwell on would make it
appear as if Ben's poetry was more reliable than his prose.)

But to elucidate this evidence and to explain this happy
blunder of the printer (happy in that it has offered us a most
unique and solitary example of Shakespeare in mufti ; in pre-
paration ; at his literary toilet, as it were), I must ask the
reader to take with me some rather technical approaches to
our demonstration.

The proof that the play was selected; that it was " newly
augmented ' for this presentation, and that it was played
before the queen, we are happily able to present by ocular
demonstration, for here is the title-page itself, printed in 1598,
declaring that the play was William Shakespeare's, that it was
newly corrected and augmented by him, and that it had been

612 A STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY. [Feb.,

played before Queen Elizabeth herself on the Christmas
before. Moreover, as this title-page is actually the first title-
page in point of time on which Shakespeare's name occurs, we
conclude that the hard-working young dramatist actually
earned his spurs by this play, and was accorded the privilege

PLEASANT

Conceited Comedie

CALLED,

Loues labors loft.

As it was prefented before her Highncs
this laft Chriftmas.

Newly corre&ed and augmented

W. Shake/here.

Imprinted at London by WW
teiCutbertBttrty.

of being known among the coterie of wits and scholars he was
so soon to distance out of sight.

THE DRAMATIST AS A COURTIER.

There were reasons enough, internal to the text, why the
play of " Love's Labour's Lost ' should be extremely popular

1 897.] A STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY. 613

with the general. Its allusion to the destruction of the Spanish
Armada which had been the work of the elements, by the
way, although always cherished as an example of the remark-
able superiority of English prowess over the rest of mankind-
is unmistakable in the character of Armado, the Spanish noble-
man. The Spaniards whom Shakespeare and his contempo-
raries saw were high bred, courtly, and noble, were far from
being vapid, foolish, and pretentious. But Shakespeare pats

the self-love of his audience on the back by making Armado
(which is all but Armada) a tolerated nuisance to the court, a
butt and a laughing-stock to the stupidest set of peasants that
Shakespeare could delineate ; to make him rejected by an
English peasant lass for the sake of a clown, and fooled to
the top of his bent by a baby, the shrewd little Moth, was
doubtless delightful to an English audience, as helping them
to hug themselves for their own cleverness and perspicacity.
Shakespeare was always exactly in step with the temper of
his time and his sittings ; but careful to watch the tone of the
court as well. A noble Spaniard had but lately shared the
English throne with his spouse, the stately and imperious
Mary. But Elizabeth was glad, just now, to be as different
from her sister, the late queen, as possible, and so she too
might have giggled at the dandified flourishes of Armado (as
un-Spanish, by the way, as they could well be made). A
very few years later on, however, when King James wished
his son Charles to marry a Spanish princess, the court became
anxious to conciliate Spain in every way, and so particularly
unwilling that public offence be given to Spaniards. The lord
chamberlain and his master of the revels of that date were as
careful to keep offensive allusion to a Spaniard out in 1622 as
they were greedy to keep the lampoon on poor Armado in in
1598. In another Shakespearean play, the " Much Ado About
Nothing," when Dom Pedro says that Benedict must surely be
'in love/' since he dresses " like a Dutchman to-day, a French-
man to-morrow, or in the shape of two countries at once, as a
German from the waist downward, all slops ; and a Spaniard
from the hips upward, no doublet," the stage censor directed
that this simple allusion to a Spaniard without a doublet be
expunged, making Dom Pedro only say that Benedict had a
penchant for appearing as " A Dutchman to-day and a French-
man to-morrow ' (and so the sentence stands in these two
forms, in the 1600 Quarto and the 1623 Folio). The camel
bolted whole in 1598 was a gnat to strain at and throw out

614 A STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY. [Feb.,

in 1622! " Nice customs," even Latin idioms, " courtesy to great
kings." Henry the Eighth cut off the head of his most faithful
minister for writing too correct Latin,* and Shakespeare, who
tells us the story, was careful himself not to overlook its moral!
Then, again, the play was attractive to the wits, punsters,
and poetasters, and scribblers of verses and euphuistic stuff
who hung around the ante-rooms of Elizabeth's courts. The
by-play, the tricks with speech, attempted both by the courtiers
and the peasants, as dainty in the one case as clumsy in the
other, are clearly burlesques on the " fad ' of euphuism, which
at about that time had violently attacked both peer and peas-
ant alike.

SHAKESPEARE A PRACTICAL PLAYWRIGHT.

But we must never forget that, had these plays never been
popular with the masses (the gods in the gallery, as we would
say now), they could never have been printed either by the
printers or by Shakespeare himself ; and had they not been
printed, they never would have come down to us at all. And
so, since it was the low comedy characters which gave them
this popularity with the masses, we should make our salaam to
those to Pistol, to Nym and Bardolph, those " irregular hu-
morists' of the Henry play; to Dogberry and Verges, to Holo-
fernes and, above all, to Falstaff, for the privilege of having
any Shakespeare to read and to speculate *about at all ! If
called upon to state the net results of almost twenty years of
Shakespeare study, I think now that I should put it thus :
Shakespeare was a practical playwright. He was much more,
but he was that, first, last, and all the time. And he was not
ashamed of it ! Being a playwright, he could not afford to be
obscure. He earned friends and fortune not by posing for the
grammarian, the purist, the cryptographer, or the conjectural
reader; but by packing his theatres. He flashed his meanings
and made his points from the mouths of his actors to the un-
derstanding of his audience. Has immortality come to him
because he was the soul of his age the applause, delight, and
wonder of his stage or in spite of it ? Would he have been
more widely studied, worshipped, and loved to-day if he had
been unintelligible to his own neighbors ? Would he have been
the soul of any other age, had he not first been the soul of
his own? For myself I should not care to waste a moment in
arguing these questions.

* " Henry the Eighth," III. ii. 314.

1 897-] ^ STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY. 615
UNSUSPECTED ERUDITION OF THE AUTHOR.

We will never probably quite understand Shakespeare's rea-
son for writing this curious play of " Love's Labour's Lost."
There was evidently some purpose in it, and the names and
parts show a deeper familiarity with dramatic and general
literature than has been suspected of Shakespeare at this early
period of his career. In Italian comedy of the date the favor-
ite characters were a Pedant and a Braggart, the Thraso of the
Latin, the " Captain Spavento ' of the Italian stage. And so
we find that the Quarto stage directions use the abbreviations
Anna, for Armado, and Brag, for Braggart, interchangeably, as
also are Fed. for Pedant and Hoi. for Holofernes. (And I
may remark here that it is not unusual in both the Quartos
and the Folios to find the stage directions using the part of
the performer instead of his stage name as Clowne for Costard
or Touchstone, the two grave-diggers in " Hamlet," who are
called Id. and Other, and Clow, in the marginals for the play-
ers' guidance.) Which reveals, among other things, that the
stock company at Shakespeare's theatres was equipped for any
play that might be presented with a clown, so that it was only
necessary for the stage editor to note that such a character
was to be taken by the actor who did the low comedy clown
business. The name " Holofernes," too. and the character, are
borrowed from the Gargantua of Rabelais. The fact that the
play breaks all the rules of comedy by not ending by all the
high characters marrying (that is, by being a Love's Labor
Lost) is another indication, I think, that there was some special
purpose in this play. It is, indeed, a play by itself. And
Shakespeare's consummate art was taxed to make acceptable
what would certainly have been extremely tiresome otherwise
-the stilted speech and no action of Armado, the everlasting
puns of the courtiers, and the clumsy experiments of the peas-
ants with words they could not understand. Nor did he omit
here that animosity to school-masters which he seems to have
acquired under the birch of Master Thomas Hunt, and which
he is never quite able to suppress. He has no delicate touches
to modify the fat-headed complaisance of Holofernes, the pedant ;
and, in the comments of the two rival village ignoramuses,
Shakespeare gives him the immense preponderance of asi-
ninity.

As in all other Shakespeare plays, the " Love's Labour's
Lost' bears traces of, or resemblances to, literature wjiich at

616 A STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY. [Feb.,

that day was held to be classical. The sentence, " They have
been at a great feast of languages and have stolen the scraps,"
reminds us of /Eschylus' saying that his tragedies were " scraps '
from the great feast of Homer. And there is a sort of remi-
niscence in its action of a statement in Monstrelet's chronicles
about a Charles, King of Navarre, who once made some ex-
changes of territory with the French king, which transaction
involved the payment of " 200,000. gold crowns of the coin of
our Lord the King." As for the rest, students think that the
play is full of thumb-nail sketches of more celebrated characters
in the later plays that Jaquenetta is a first draft of Audrey,
Costard of Touchstone, Biron and Rosaline of Benedict and
Beatrice, and the Interlude of The Nine Wortheys of the more
finished burlesque of Bottom's " Pyramus and Thisbe ' before
the Duke of Athens. And it is also supposed that Shake-
speare's success at introducing a play within a play (a thing
none of his contemporary dramatists ever tried) led to its repe-
tition not only in the " Midsummer Night's Dream ' but in
"Hamlet," and suggested the dumb shows in "Richard III."
and elsewhere in the plays. And again in Sir Philip Sidney's
Masque, "The Lady of the May," written in Queen Elizabeth's
honor in 1578, and performed in the queen's presence on the
occasion of her visit to Wanstead House, Essex, where she was
entertained by Leicester, Sidney's uncle. One of the charac-
ters is a pedantic school-master named Rhombus, who addresses
her majesty after this fashion : " I am, potentissima domina, a
school-master that is to say, a pedagogue ; one not a little
versed in the disciplinating of the juvenile fry. Wherein, to
my laud I say it, I use such geometrical proportions as neither
wanteth mansuetude nor correction, for so it is described
1 Par care subjectos et debellire superbos? But what said that
Trojan ^Eneas when he sojourned in the surging sulks of the
sandiferous seas? ' Hcec olim meminisse juvabit* Rhombus
" effects the letter," too, and " surging sulks ' is as good in its
way as the extemporal epitaph on the pricket killed by the
princess. As for the word " Holofernes," Shakespeare could
have found it in the Apocrypha or in Rabelais. So, perhaps,
this is where Shakespeare got Holofernes ! I should say, Yes,
certainly, Shakespeare may have found him there, but then
again he may have been as equal to the character and the name
as Sidney himself. The devotion to Shakespeare which leads
one to exclaim in one breath that to him nothing was impos-
sible, and in the next to discover where he bought, borrowed,

1897-] A STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY. 617

or stole everything he said, is amusing when one comes to re-
flect upon it. If nothing was impossible to Shakespeare, why
not assume, now and then, that something not impossible to
lesser geniuses might also have occurred to Shakespeare? For
my own part I have grown so accustomed to literary coinci-
dences that I miss them when they fail me. They seem to me
the most familiar thing in the world a world where, after all,
the stock in trade of the literary man is the same old story
century in and century out, where men make books as apothe-
caries make new medicines : by pouring out of many bottles
into one. The fact that we do not have Shakespeares every
year does not alter the fact that the human nature of
which he reported the heart does not always remain the
same.

THE "PRINTER'S DEVIL" FOUND USEFUL.

Now, when this edition of the " Love's Labour's Lost ' came
to be printed in 1598, "as it had been," newly corrected and
augmented by W. Shakespeare (spelled, by the way, as our
Baconian friends insist that their Bacon-the-author of the plays
never spelled his name ! ), the printers, as we have said above,
printed these augmentations and corrections as part of the
text letting the passages supposed to be augmented and
corrected stand as they were. To understand how easily this
fortunate error (which would have been impossible to a modern
compositor) occurred, we must remember that the type-setter
of Elizabeth's day did not read the "copy* he set up from.
Instead, there stood at the side of his font a "copy-reader,"
who read to him as he composed. And so this copy-reader
read everything the original text, the "augmentations' and
all, as he thought they came in, which accounts for the fact
that many of these augmentations come in without any rela-
tion to the position in the original text of the passages they
were designed to "augment." So here we have the two, as
plainly as if Shakespeare's first drafts were handed to us from
one source, and his finished work from another ! And this, I
claim, is Shakespeare in his workshop the completed work
and the chips which fell in shaping it !

If the reader will begin at line 298 of scene third of act
fourth, and read carefully the remainder of that scene, he will
discover lines repetitive of the same sentiments and tautolo-
gies of entire passages. That these are due to precisely such
"augmentations' as the old 1598 title-page has prepared us

6i8 A STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY. [Feb.,

to expect, I hope I can make evident by the following paral-
lelization :

FIRST DRAFT.
Line

298. From women's eyes this

doctrine I derive :

299. They are the ground, the

books, the academes

300. From whence doth spring

the true Promethean fire.

AUGMENTATION.

Line

346. From women's eyes this

doctrine I derive :

347. They sparkle still the right

Promethean fire ;

348. They are the books, the

arts, the academes

349. That show, contain, and

nourish all the world.

Nobody, surely, can fail to detect the improvement. Writ-
ing hastily, we see that Shakespeare used the words " the
ground ' (line 299). In revising he rejects this and substitutes
the words "the arts." His meaning in using " ground' was to
say that a lady's eyes were "the ground' of inspiration. His
metre had restricted him. Now, in revising this pretty speech
of compliment he substitutes a phrase that not only retains the
sense but suits his metre for "grounds of inspiration' he ex-
presses his compliment by the words "the arts." And, fol-
lowing closely the idea that the bright eyes of women inspire
effort in their lovers, he supplies his own ellipsis. "Promethean
fire ' (that is, the energy of action) does not " spring from '
ladies' eyes, except by a labored analogy. But the analogy is
simplified and at once explained by the revision which prettily
puts it that, by sparkling attractively, they become " the books,
the arts, the academes ' which " show, contain, and nourish
all the world." But again we have (Act V. scene ii. 805 and
seg.) :

FIRST DRAFT.

AUGMENTATION.

Line

805. Biron. And what to me, my
love, and what to me ?

Line

825. Biron. Studies, my lady?

Mistress, look on me ;

826. Behold the window of my

heart, my eye,

827. What humble suit attends

thy answer there.

828. Impose some service on

me for thy love !

This is, indeed, the richness of an overwrought fancy.
Shakespeare was evidently in love with Rosaline himself. He

1 897-]

STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY.

619

has made her through all the play a dainty creation. He de-
scribes her in three lines, than which there are no sweeter or
more pictorial in all the poetry of courtship :

" . . . there is a gentle lady ;

When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,
And Rosaline they call her."

Rosaline is Shakespeare's Juliet and Beatrice in one, and, in
pleading with her, he thinks Biron ought to make a more im-
passioned speech than in the one line of the first draft, so he
makes it into four !

But as the purpose of these papers is to stimulate, and not
to satisfy, the study of Shakespeare, I will give but one more
instance (although, between Act IV. scene iii. 298 and the end
of the play there are about a dozen of these " augmentations,"
which I shall feel flattered if the three I do point out will in-
duce my readers to search for themselves). Rosaline proceeds
to answer her admirer as follows :

FIRST DRAFT.

AUGMENTATION.

Line

806. Ros. You must be purged

too. Your sins are racked.

807. You are attaint with faults

and perjury.

808. Therefore, if you my favor

mean to get,

809. A twelvemonth shall you

spend and never rest,

810. But seek the weary beds of

people sick.

Line

829. Oft have I heard of you,

my Lord Biron,

830. Before I saw you : and the

world's large tongue

831. Proclaims you for a man

replete with mocks,

832. Full of comparisons and

wounding flouts,

833. Which you on all estates

will execute

834. That lie within the mercy

of your wit.

835. To weed this wormwood

from your fruitful brain,

836. And therewithal to win me

if you please
(and so on down to line 59.)

This is the most splendid " augmentation ' of all, and it will
win the reader's most .respectful admiration. Shakespeare pro-
posed to make Rosaline put her lover to some exercise which
would soften his sarcastic speech. He jokes too much, and
his jokes are far too caustic. And Rosaline imagines that, if

620 A STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY. [Feb.,

he could only be made to joke for a year or so to dead ears
only, he will wear out his exuberant wit, to the great gain of
all parties concerned. But this, while in Shakespeare's mind,
was not expressed to the audience by the four lines given in
the first draft. But in the augmentation he makes Rosaline
address Biron courteously, admit that he is famous, and then
proceed first with her indictment, and then (like Portia, without
waiting for the accused man's plea) with a pronouncement of
the penalty to be adjudged him !

This is the evidence ! And I submit, that if Shakespeare
had lived in 1896 to prepare a magazine article (as we see so
many here and there in our present times), " How I came to
write the ' Love's Labour's Lost,' he could not have told us
half so vividly how he did it as does this happy blunder of the
poor copy-reader of two hundred and ninety-eight years ago I
See, for instance, what Shakespeare makes of the single lines :

"Therefore, if you my favor mean to get,
A twelvemonth must you spend and never rest,
But seek the weary beds of people sick."

This Shakespeare expands into twenty-five lines ; and in
them he puts into Biron's mouth a half-whimsical, half-serious
protest against his lady's hard terms. But this protest (as is
Shakespeare's wont as he cannot help, even in rehandling his
own work) runs far afield from the mere personal hardship to
poor Biron, and goes into a deep philosophizing upon the
thing itself, and the purpose of it. One cannot move laughter
in the throat of death, he urges no, nor yet in a soul in agony.
And Rosaline is quick to catch the wisdom of her lover's re
tort, and instantly replies that that is just what she proposes.
She will cure Biron of jesting by making him jest to deadened
ears, since " a jest's propriety lies in the ear of him that hears
it," and she proposes that her lover throw away his jests until
he gets disgusted and jests no more. And Biron, beaten at his
own dialectics by his lovely lady, retorts, " Well then I'll jest
a twelvemonth in a hospital " ; and remarks in a bitter aside
(thus explaining the title "Love's Labour's Lost"), "Our woo-
ing doth not end like an old play. Jack hath not his Jill."

As there were no hospitals in those days except those for
pestiferous diseases, it may be supposed that Rosaline sought
her lover quietly afterward and told him not to go quite so
far (though the text does not hint at it). For no lady would

1 897.] A STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY. 621

care to marry a man fresh from a pest-house ! The reader
will select other augmentations for himself out of the copy
preserved to us by what we must still consider one of the
most fortunate accidents that ever happened. Doubtless it
would not be well for authors to be always as careless as
Shakespeare was, or printing-houses as inattentive. But it
surely has worked well for us in this case that it was so. I
may add, perhaps, in the copy-reader's justification, that care-
lessness was the rule, however, in those early printing-houses.
For example, in the Folio text of this very play, the last
line reads : " You that way, we this way," which without this
statement would be difficult to understand. That line, it seems
to me, must have been a whisper of one actor to another who
was making a wrong exit. To be sure it may have been
interpolated as a part of the " business," to carry out the ex-
pression of the stupidity of the " Worthies." But my own
idea is that it was not a part of the dialogue, but a remark
by one actor to another which, by catching the ear of a
stenographer who was taking down the play, found its way
into the printed text.

We thus possess distinct and reliable circumstantial evidence
of Shakespeare's increasing reputation as a dramatist in the
winter of the year 1597-1598. It is gratifying to be able to
supplement this with further circumstantial evidence that, as
his reputation, his material prosperity also increased. This
latter evidence is as follows :

" MINE UNCLE " AND THE PLAYERS.

There was a certain pawnbroker named Philip Henslow or
Henslowe, or Hinslow to whom the actors and dramatic
writers of London were in the habit of resorting, who, by
association, began to extend his business with them to advanc-
ing money not only on their personal chattels but on their
plays, which he would sell to the theatres. His theatrical con-
nections in time became so extensive that he built The Rose
theatre on the Bankside and entrusted its management to
Edward Alleyn, who married his daughter, and whom, we have
seen, had been the manager of one of the companies to which
Shakespeare had belonged. Henslow's papers and books cover-
ing these ' transactions are to a great extent still extant (and
they contain a great many names which have become familiar
ones in English literature), and we find by them that, among
others, Shakespeare himself was a borrower up to about the
VOL. LXIV. 40

622 A STUDY IN SHAKESPEAREAN CHRONOLOGY. [Feb.,

year 1598. But in that year his name disappears from the
pawnbroker's books. From which, of course, the reasonable
conclusion is that he had become independent, or at least self-
sustaining, in or about that year. So we see what an impor-
tant play this " Love's Labour's Lost ' is from the circumstan-
tial testimony as to Shakespeare's business biography, which it
affords and confirms. Shakespeare's contemporary dramatists
were not so fortunate, but remained in Henslow's clutches for
long after. Here is a curious letter, written as late as 1606,
probably from a sponging-house, which is in evidence as to
this :

To our most loving friend, Mr. Philip Hinslow, Esq., these :

MR. HlNSLOW : You understand our unfortunate extremity,
and I do not think you so void of Christianity but you will throw
so much money into the Thames as we request now of you
rather than endanger so many innocent lives. You know there
is X/. more at least to be received of you for the play. We
desire you to lend us V/. of that which shall be allowed to
you, without which we cannot be bailed, nor I play any more
till this be dispatched. It will lose you XX/. ere the end of
next week, besides the hindrance of the next new play. Pray,
sir, consider our cases with humanity, and now give us cause
to acknowledge you our true friend in time of need. We have
entreated Mr. Davison to deliver this note, as well to witness
your love as our promised and always acknowledgment to be
your most thankful friend, NAT. FIELD.

The money shall be abated out of the money remains for

the play of Mr. Fletcher and ours.

ROB. DABORNE.

I have always found you a true loving friend to me, and in
so small a suit, it being honest, I hope you will not fail us.

PHILIP MASSENGER.

There are, first and last, a great many begging letters
signed with well-known names, dating from these times many
of them signed by Francis Bacon, by the way in the old
English collections. But not one among them happens to be
signed with the name of William Shakespeare !

1 897.] NOTRE DAME DE FOURVIERES. 623

NOTRE DAME DE FOURVIERES.

BY E. ENDRES.

HE visitor to Lyons finds half the attractiveness
of this historic and stately city in the superb
Notre Dame de Fourvieres. Crowning the pre-
cipitous heights of the city, between the rivers
Saone and Rhone, it occupies an uniquely ad-
vantageous position for displaying its architectural beauties at
every turn, while its towers and terraces afford some of the
most magnificent views in France. The eye wanders from the
imposing edifices and grand bridges of the city below across
home-dotted valleys and hills to the Alps of Dauphine" and,
when the atmosphere is favorable, to the glistening summit of
Mont Blanc, one hundred miles away.

The history of the church is as unique as itself, and makes
a touching tale of implicit faith and noble fidelity. So distant
was its origin that no records preserve it, but it is frequently
referred to in the annals of the first century. The old church,
now standing, was erected in 1586, and has undergone but few
changes. It has but little attraction to the eye when compared
with the splendid modern building by its side, but it preserves
the history of a people true to their faith through dark and
tumultuous ages. The interior walls are covered from sight by
the thousands of offerings made by rich and poor in recogni-
tion of blessings received through the intercession of Our Lady
of Fourvieres, notably during the great cholera plague of 1643.
The new church, a description of which is the purpose of
this article, owes its origin to a touching episode of the Franco-
Prussian war of 1870. France found herself a prey to the
horrors of war, and was fighting with the heroism of despair
the consummate strategy of Von Moltke. Strasburg, Metz, and
Toul had successively fallen, and Paris, the fairest city of
the world, was enclasped in a consuming embrace of flame and
iron. Now it was that the great commercial city of Lyons
found herself threatened by the enemy, and that, too, at a time
when her resources were exhausted.

The chief city of Lyonnais had not waited till danger threat-
ened herself to prove her loyalty to France ; her wealth and
strength had been placed at her country's feet at the first
stroke of the war tocsin. Regiment after regiment of brave

624

NOTRE DAME DE FOURVIERES.

[Feb.,

Lyonnais had she sent to help her sister cities in their time
of distress. Her garde mobile had fought at Belfort and Paris ;
her volunteers had nobly fallen in the terrible struggle at Nuits,
where the trained veterans of Prussia found it necessary to
halt and rest themselves after meeting these hastily improvised'
soldiers of France. And now in the hour of her own danger,
when the sleuth-hounds of war were shadowing her own door,
when her sons were either dead or languishing in captivity,

MAIN FRONT AND ENTRANCE.

when her treasury was exhausted and the victorious armies of
Germany were threatening her with a circle of fire, lo ! only
helpless women and children were left to uphold the honor of
brave Lugdunum.

So it was that in the cheerless dawn of the 8th of October,
1870, the women and children of Lyonnais by thousands wend-
ed their way, as their ancestors had done in the days of old,
to the hill that overhangs their city, and on which stands the

1 897.] NOTRE DAME DE FOURVIERES. 625

ancient sanctuary of Notre Dame de Fourvieres, there to plead
with their Lady of Bon Conseil to help them once more in
this their time of war, as she had helped them from the times
of the persecutions of Marcus Aurelius and Septimus Severus
to the time of the plague in the black year of 1643.

Not in " purple and scarlet and fine-twined linen ' came
these suppliants to plead before La Mere Immaculee, but in
trailing robes of sombre black, with the insignia of widowhood
and orphanage upon them. Kneeling by hundreds on the cold
stones of the old sanctuary, kneeling by thousands in the outer
court-yard, and by tens of thousands in the narrow, steep streets
of Fourvieres, with sobs and sighs bursting from their bosoms
and with tears streaming from their sorrow-laden eyes, the wo-
men of Lyonnais said :

" Nous faisons un voeu de preter un gnreux concours a la
construction d'un nouveau sanctuaire a Fourvieres, si la tres
sainte Vierge, notre Mere Immaculee, preserve de 1'ennemi la
ville et le diocese de Lyon."

And the vow was favorably heard. On the first of March,
1871, peace was signed ; the feet of the enemy had not trod-
den the beloved Lyonnaise land.

In spite of the enormous war indemnity France paid, and in
which the Lyonnais bore a heavy share, the ground for the
new church of Notre Dame de Fourvieres was purchased, and
was blessed on the 8th of April, 1872, the Feast of the An-
nunciation, and on December 7 of the same year, the vigil of
the Immaculate Conception, the first stone was laid in fulfilment
of that solemn vow and in memory of the protection granted.

THE EXTERIOR.

The new edifice really embodies two churches, which are
commonly known as the upper church and the lower church ;
the former is dedicated to the Blessed Virgin and the latter
to St. Joseph.

The building is a parallelogram, about twice as long as
wide, to which a semi-circular apse of the full width is added,
and with four grand polygonal towers, one hundred and fifty-
eight feet in height, at the corners. The main front and en-
trance stand toward the setting sun, while the apse directly
faces the east. The architecture conforms to no particular
order and is mainly original with the designer, M. Pierre
Bossan, who received inspiration for his plans while praying
for divine guidance. It is properly designated the " Fortress
Church " ; partly because of the resemblance in its bold and

626 NOTRE DAME DE FOURVIERES. [Feb. r

massive outlines to a military fortification, but also because it
stands sentinel over the city; a veritable citadel of defence,
the holy " Acropolis of Lyon." The predominating sentiment
throughout the structure is a unification of strength and
beauty, and it is in this characteristic the edifice has its
distinction.

The upper church is built upon a platform reached by steps
extending its whole width. The two towers of the western front
frame a richly adorned portico surmounted by a gallery, over
which is a pediment richly sculptured and bearing in high re-
lief inscriptions of the vows of 1643 and 1870. The bases that
support the columns of the portico are remarkable, being in
fact monoliths of 35,295 pounds weight each, which required
twenty stout horses to move them. When the first of these
massive blocks arrived a triumphal procession was formed
through the city, the ladies of Lyons burying the stone in
flowers. The columns of the portico are of granite from Lake
Maggiore, and the sculpturing of their capitals is very fine;
the depiction of delicate foliage being truly a masterpiece of
fidelity to nature. One of the most striking of the exterior
features of Notre Dame de Fourvieres is the imposing statue of
the Archangel Michael standing high over the centre of the
apse, the extended wings measuring twenty feet from tip
to tip.

The north-west tower has been given over to the use of
the Catholic Faculty of Sciences, who have established an ob-
servatory and equipped it with all the necessary astronomical
instruments. The north-east tower is open to the public, and
is resorted to by tourists for the grand panorama it affords of
scenery both beautiful and interesting. The wonderful view
has been duplicated in miniature in enamel around the entire
balustrade of the tower, with the names, altitude, and distance
of the various mountain ranges and peaks, thus providing the
stranger with the most perfect guide possible. The open cir-
cular gallery enclosing part of the apse is one of the most
beautiful and interesting sections of the exterior church. Mag-
nificent in columns of red Italian granite and pilasters of por-
phyry superbly polished, symbolical friezes, finely chiselled cor-
nices and groups of winged herons, it both delights and
captivates the spectator. It is called the " Gallery of the
Benediction," and here every year on the 8th of September
is given to the city the Benediction of the Most Holy Sacra-
ment in memory of the vow of the ancient municipality.
The writer was once present at this impressive ceremony. Ser-

1 897.]

NOTRE DAME DE FOURVIERES.

627

vice and the twilight came together. From everywhere the
heights of Fourvieres were visible, and the quays, the bridges,
the streets and public squares were thronged with people.
High over all the bells of the city churches rang in their
deep, sweet chorus in response to the great cathedral chime.
Suddenly the cannon's roar was heard, and while the shadows
fell on the kneeling worshippers and the last rays of the set-

APSE, FACING THE EAST.

ting sun tinged the distant Alpine peaks with a dying efful-
gence, the Benediction, in tones that seemed unearthly, came
so clearly that the peace and promises, both everlasting,
seemed, not prefigured but realized.

THE UPPER CHURCH.

The interior presents a nave, 217 feet long, built in three
bays covered by cupolas, and with two aisles, square at one

628 NOTRE DAME DE FOURVIERES. [Feb.,

end and at the other with an apse of ten sides. Sixteen
columns support the arches. Such in brief is a technical de-
scription of the interior of the upper church, but words are
inadequate to convey the long surprise, the splendor, and the
beauty of its arrangement.

This creation of the modern mind not only shows the char-
acter and feeling of the generation engaged in forming it, but
gives also an impressive proof of the resources of the church.
Walls disappear beneath gold and precious stones, the pave-
ment glitters with enamelled tiles and polished marbles. Every-
where are lightness and richness, all the beauty that the genius
of the pious architect could devise.

The cupolas are a distinctive motif of this church, and, in-
stinctively, the eye is attracted to the resplendent Venetian
mosaics of which they are formed. They are three in number.
The one nearest the choir is a grand composition. The Eter-
nal Father, majestically seated on a throne of clouds, blesses
the world emerging out of the formless void. Angels hover
near bearing banderolles on which are inscribed in golden let-
ters :

Dominus possedit me ab initio,
Ab ceterno ordinata sum,
Ante colles parturiebar
Cum eo eram cuncta componens.

An encircling band of cherubim complete this glorious mosaic.
In the second cupola the Blessed Virgin is seated with
crossed hands and drooping eyelids, her foot resting on the
serpent's head. She is clad in a mantle of spotless white and
surrounded by the golden aureola of the Holy Spirit. Two
angels bend over her, bearing in their hands scrolls on which
are the words :

Ecce ancilla Domini, fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum.

The third cupola is consecrated to the Virgin Mother of
the Infant Jesus. The stable of Bethlehem is depicted with
realistic fidelity. Adoring angels strew flowers on the couch
of the Holy Child. A grand cherub with magnificent wings
holds a scroll with the words

Gloria in excelsis Deo,

while a pendant of angelic choristers continue the celestial can-
ticle. The pillars that support these cupolas are of pale blue
marble superbly fluted and polished. They rest on bases of
sculptured white marble, while their golden capitals support

NOTRE DAME DE FOURVIERES.

629

angels with outspread wings, each angel bearing an invocation
of the Litany of the Virgin.

Every tribute of devotion in this beautiful church culmin-
ates in the chancel with its high altar. The base of the
chancel is of dark blue marble, above which is a moulding
of white marble with masses of roses in alto-rilievo, among

INTERIOR, UPPER CHURCH.

which are entwined enamels on a golden ground. From the
moulding to the base of the seven great windows of the apse
the walls are tapestried with costly marbles and panels of
breche-antique. The seven windows form an immense expanse
of radiant crystal grandly illuminating the high altar of Parian
marble glittering with gold enamel and polished crystals. The

630 NOTRE DAME DE FOURVIERES. [Feb. r

columns of the sanctuary are of rosso-antico, crowned with
golden capitals and supporting kneeling angels with outstretched
wings. A glorious mosaic frieze of peacocks with their mar-
vellous plumage, and of palm-trees and tropical foliage, among
which are brilliant birds in flight, extends round the choir.

From the pavement to a height of eight feet the entire
walls are covered with dark green serpentine panelled with red
Macon marble, the remainder of the walls being of some sea-
green material brilliantly polished. Six large windows of
painted glass, three on each side, representing the Blessed
Virgin as Queen of Angels, patriarchs, prophets, apostles, con-
fessors, and martyrs, divide these sea-green walls, that seem to
symbolize those walls of jasper and all kinds of precious stones
around the heavenly city. Here magnificence is cheerful, and
faith can see the brightness of the sunrise and of coming
glory. A visitor to this church who is not delighted by its
glories must be seldom satisfied.

THE LOWER CHURCH, OR CRYPT.

On entering the semi-subterranean chapel of St. Joseph a
profound impression of its individuality is received. Its impos-
ing length of 217 feet is much exaggerated by the dim light
which filters through rich painted glass, the latter showing chiefly
orange and blue. When the eye has become accustomed to
this dim iridescence the massive vaulted roof looms out of the
shadows. It is supported by thirty-eight columns of polished
fluted stone, with bases and capitals of Carrara marble. Angels
support the springers of the arches, bearing in their hands palm
branches and ears of corn. The walls of the chapel are of
white polished marble, cut in the centre by bands of rosso-
antico on which are inscribed in letters of gold the names of
every parish in the vast diocese of Lyonnais. The pavement of
the crypt is in colored Roman mosaic and marble cubes.

As in the upper church, the gem of the subterranean chapel
is its choir and high altar. The ten segments of the apse are
luminous with Venetian mosaics representing cherubim sur-
rounded by exquisite foliage, and phylacteries upon which are
written the prerogatives of St. Joseph. The high altar is of
fine Carrara marble, and on its front, in high relief, is depicted
the death of St. Joseph.

From the crypt two fine arched doorways, termed respec-
tively Bethlehem and Nazareth, lead into the terrace gardens
surrounding the church.

1 897.]

NOTRE DAME DE FOURVIERES.

631

For nearly a quarter of a century work has progressed on
the new church of Notre Dame de Fourvieres. Already three
millions of dollars have been spent on it. Eight chapels in the
upper and six in the lower church have yet to be completed.
Furthermore it is the intention to people the exterior of the

INTERIOR, LOWER CHURCH (INCOMPLETE).

church, as the interior, with angels bearing attributes relative
to the glory of Mary. But it is expected that by the close of
the nineteenth century the entire church will be completed, and
the twentieth century fittingly ushered in by the dedication of
the new Church of Fourvieres, on whose heights for nearly two
thousand years the veneration of the Blessed Virgin has never
ceased.

THE NEW RENAISSANCE.

BY WALTER LECKY.

" Non cuicunque datum est habere nasum." Martial.

HERE are the ancient gods

Of Greece and Rome ?
As broken, trampled clods,
As feathery foam.

Olympus tumbled down,

The power past ;
Great Jove without a crown-

A myth outcast.

Where are the ancient gods ?

Long broke the crust ;
Like all our human frauds,

They are as dust.

Yet men of maudlin mind

Deplore the ruth ;
They would Olympus find,

To touch the truth.

They would of law be free,

The flesh esteem,
From Him of Galilee

A world redeem.

1 897.]

THE NEW RENAISSANCE.

The ancient gods have fled,

Their cults o'er-cast.
Can they bring back the dead ?

The dead have passed.

Bring back the strangers, dead,

To love unknown ?
A barren worship, fled,

Seeks love a stone.

Resign our restful Rood

For empty speech ?
Seek ill, abandon good

False prophets preach ?

In book, in every mart

They build in Spain :
But One can sooth the heart,

Aught else is vain.

But One can make us free,

Of love his creed :
He came from Galilee,

We are his seed.

633

634 A NEW WORK ON DE LAMENNAIS. [Feb.,

A NEW WORK ON DE LAMENNAIS.

BY JOHN J. O'SHEA.

jjjF all the moving episodes in the history of eccle-
siastical vicissitude, perhaps the most profoundly
tragic is the rise and fall of the Abb de La-
mennais. It is a tale that does not grow trite by
repetition. We who move in days of compara-
tive quiet for the church find it difficult, it may be, to realize
the conditions under which the star of Lamennais waxed and
waned. In the domain of the church shock had followed upon
shock. To the Revolution had succeeded Waterloo, and the
chaos of governments was matched by a chaos of philosophies
and religious systems. France was the focus as well as the
radiator of all these warring ideas in the domains of mind and
matter. Confusion had in many respects been made worse
confounded by the pact of the Concordat, and the Gordian
knot which it had created could neither be severed by the
sword nor disentangled by the most subtle thought of man.
Such was the time at which Lamennais burst like a comet
upon a struggling world, and electrified all the combatants by
the brilliancy and boldness of his philosophy and .his defence
of the religious faith that was in him.

We are reminded somewhat of the vague dreams of mythol-
ogy by the course of the combat and the personnel of the
chief actors. They were indeed Titans in intellect who in
those days flung themselves against the battlements of a sneer-
ing philosophy and, worse still, a system which recognized
religion in order to make it the slave and tool of a despotism
in the state. Illustrious, indeed, were the intellects which ral-
lied to the support of the daring leader. At no age was seen
a brighter galaxy Chateaubriand, Montalembert, Lacordaire,
Ozanam, De Gurin, Sainte-Beuve, and a host of lesser lights.
Towering above the wreck of the exploded philosophies stood
the great figure of Auguste Comte, hardly inferior in intellectual
stature to Lamennais himself, but without a spark of his noble
fury for the sanctity of the truth which is of God. It may
fairly be doubted whether militant Catholicism has ever produced
so brilliant a champion as Lamennais; and it is equally open

1897-] A NEW WORK ON DE LAMENNAIS. 635

to question whether his loss to the church was, humanly speak-
ing, a preventible calamity. More mournful in its unfolding
than the fateful sweep of a Greek tragedy, his life's story cul-
minates in a fall brought about directly by his triumphant
assertion of true principles in ecclesiastical and social polity.
The times, unhappily, were unfitted for the assertion of those
principles. Lamennais, unfortunately, had pushed his theories
into the practical world so far that he left himself no golden
bridge by which to retreat when it was no longer possible to
advance. He had staked his all upon the result of an appeal
to Rome ; and when the decision was adverse, he had no wea-
pon left in all his spiritual armory. Then his great heart failed
him, and he turned his back upon his priestly office and upon
the church of his passionate devotion for ever.

A new work on Lamennais * reawakens our interest in this
melancholy, almost inscrutable story of genius turned awry.
The author is the Honorable W. Gibson. He writes from a
Catholic point of view, but no one can charge him with unfair-
ness toward the forces to which Lamennais was compelled to
yield. Those forces were such as were inseparable from the
march of events. It is only given to world-masters like Caesar
and Bonaparte to oppose logical sequence, with the might of
many legions, successfully. The victories of thought are won
by slower and less exciting processes. They are won none the
less surely, for all that. Lamennais' principles, as regards
-church policy at least in France, have been to a large extent
vindicated. Gallicanism is dead. A subservient clergy can no
longer be looked upon as a department of the state, fawning
upon state officials for its salary, and deaf and blind to the
sufferings of the people. This was the thing that roused the
holy ire in the great Abbe" and caused him to stand for years
as the inspired prophet of the new movement in the church, the
marvel of the world and the terror of its tyrants.

There were many elements in the position which confronted
Lamennais when he began his great task of uplifting Catholic-
ity which Catholics of to-day need to understand before they
can form an idea of the transcendent courage and genius of
the man and the stupendous significance of his failure and fall.
We are easily led, when forming estimates of the acts and
thoughts of people in the past, to overlook the difference be-
tween their times and our own. It seems much easier for the

* The Abbd de Lamennais and the Catholic Liberal Movement in France. By the
Honorable W. Gibson. New York : Longmans, Green & Co.

636 A NEW WORK ON DE LAMENNAIS. [Feb.,

average reader or thinker to imagine the altered circumstances
under which the people in the near future must live and think
than to make due allowance for the changes which a few
years have brought about since even the beginning of the
present century. We are too apt to lose sight of the fact that,
although Rome had been universally looked up to as the su-
preme tribunal in the temporals and spirituals of the church,
the dogma of Papal Infallibility had not been formally defined
until the date of the Vatican Council, twenty-seven years ago.
In order to understand what confusion of principles, what clash-
ing of obligations, and what uncertainty in even the greatest
ecclesiastical minds the acceptance of this dogma terminated
once for all, we have but to go back to the days of Lamen-
nais and the First Empire. Then we shall see how the spirit
of Gallicanism was utilized as an instrument wherewith to chas-
tise the church at large, and a new Caesarism sought, and well-
nigh successfully, to turn a national church into a mere state
department or official machine for invoking the blessing of
Heaven on territorial designs and mundane statecraft arising out
of triumphant militarism. The word " Ultramontane ' has now
almost dropped out of popular recollection. At this time it was
on everybody's lips, and, thanks to the energetic anti-Catholi-
cism of the London Times and similar mouthpieces of human
" freedom," it acquired a sinister meaning as the sum of all
that was odious, reactionary, and unconstitutional in ecclesio-
civil policy. When we look into the matter we find, however,
that its original meaning, as expounded by Lamennais, was the
very antithesis of all this. Gallicanism in his day stood for
the enslavement of the church and the effacement of God's
truth and human right. Ultramontanism was the means of its
delivery. He was the intrepid soldier of this most sacrosanct
cause. His valor and impetuosity, unfortunately, carried him
too far. He ploughed through the enemy's ranks, only to find
his isolation complete, beyond the reach of his friends and un-
able to capitulate to his foes.

Things as between Church and State in France were in a
position which to honorable and sensitive minds was demean-
ing to religion and intolerable to manhood when Lamennais
started the Avenir. He was, not to say a man of ideals, but a
giant with a single ideal a dreamer of the loftiest and purest
kind. His dream was that of Savonarola a Christian democracy
in which Truth and Justice should be the crownless king and
queen. He saw around him a subservient hierarchy and an un-

1 897.] A NEW WORK ON DE LAMENNAIS, 637

murmuring clergy. The shadow of the Terror was still over'
the church. The Concordat was in the eyes of many a worse
evil. It made a chasm between the people and the clergy. It
made the bishops dependent on the whim of a minister; it
caused many to forget what was due to their episcopal dignity.
Lamennais sickened when he began to observe these things.
The sufferings of the people at the same time cried out irre-
sistibly to him. In his youth he had been a royalist, regarding
monarchy as the just apex of the governmental system. But
when he saw the workings of the principle and the misery of
the unheeded herd, his convictions changed. Then he found
himself to be a Christian Democrat.

Men of Lamennais' stamp are not swayed by logical pro-
cesses, in the ordinary sense ; the logic of events is more
potent to win their sympathies in an instant than years of
thought on the beautiful but frigid lines of accurate reasoning.
The heart of the great abbe was always victorious over his
head ; the exquisite tenderness of his nature, on the one hand,
and its volcanic wrath against mighty social wrongs, on the
other, blinded him in the long run to the course he was pursu-
ing. He saw not the finger-post which marked the parting of
the ways while he hurried along toward the goal where he
thought to see the complete unity between the church and
society established upon the overthrown despotisms and bureau-
cracies of Europe. The character of Lamennais thus appears
to have been more of a dual one than that of any great
thinker known to fame.

In Sainte-Beuve's picture of the abbe this unfortunate duality
is strongly dwelt upon. Lamennais, he says, always leaned to
one side or the other without any gradation of opinion or
sympathy. This unpoisable disposition is attributed by the
author of the book now before us to the physical circumstances
of his surroundings in infancy ; and in order to get a vivid im-
pression of what these surroundings were, he betook himself to
St. Malo before he began his book. It is a weird and many-
sided spot, overlooking a sea which a fanciful mind might easily
distort into an implacable eternal enemy lying outside the town,
now luring men out by its glorious surface of emerald sheen,
now tossing multitudinous manes from its leviathan sides and
spreading its immense tentacles up over the pelasgic rocks of
its sea-wall, threatening the ancient stone statue of the Virgin,
mysterious gift from the ocean itself, as a popular legend holds,

which stands over the main gate. Terrific storms at times
VOL. LXIV. 41

638 A NEW WORK ON DE LAMENNAIS. [Feb.,

sweep the coast bare ; at other seasons the place smiles like a
marine gem, and the whole scene is one of paradisiacal tranquil-
lity. It is certainly a spot for an impressionist. Lamennais was
one as soon as he began to be sensible of natural impressions,,
and that was early in life, for we find it recorded of him in
the introductory portion of this book that when eight years
old he said to a companion, as he saw a group of people
watching the wild war of the elements outside the shore, on
which his own attention had for some time been riveted : " Us
regardant ce que je regarde, mais ils ne voient pas ce je vois."
Happier for himself it might have been by far had he not the
fatal gift of the keener vision of the mind and the spirit than
these simple folk ; thrice happier had he the gift of the gentler
Fenelon, who earlier, placed in a somewhat analogous dilemma
of conscience and ideal, placed himself fully and unconditional-
ly at the foot of the cross and offered up his humiliation
to Him who made submission and humiliation sublime and
sanctifying.

We will not say that it would have been better for man-
kind and for religion, but most certainly better had it been for
himself had the vision of Lamennais been the vision of the sea-
toilers and other simple folks who watched the agony of the sea
with him that day at St. Malo. They saw it, too, with some-
thing more than physical eyes. If the beginnings of no pro-
found philosophical speculations on the origin of all things
were not stirred in them, if no incipient poet-yearnings quick-
ened at the touch of moody Nature, they saw not far off the
hand of God. If he, in his later life, could only have seen as
clearly that guiding hand above the storms which raged about
him, he could hardly have sunk beneath them as he did.

The mistake which wrecked the hopes and ambition of the
Abbe" de Lamennais is one into which many noble minds are
liable to fall. Believing the church to be the great central
power for the uplifting of the world, they wish her to aban-
don her true position as teacher, by which, while belonging
to the earth she is detached from it, and become the active
demonstrator of her own principles as applied to human sys-
tems. The church is too wise to adopt this view. The chang-
ing centuries have not been without their lessons to her. No
matter what way the ship of the world is steered, she must be
as unalterable as the compass pointing to the loadstar of
truth. Political and philosophical systems have risen and per-
ished again and again since she started on her way, and she

1 897.] A NEW WORK ON DE LAMENNAIS. 639

remains as before, authority illuminate. To bless and encour-
age every honest mode of social reform is her role always, but

never to identify herself with these beneficent schemes in the
way of promoter or patron. Social reform is a high aim, but
it is not, more than incidentally, the mission of the church.

It is not every Catholic who could undertake to present
the life of Lamennais with a perfectly impartial hand. The
mind which had followed his intellectual track, brilliant be-
yond all compare, up to the point where it was brought to an
abrupt halt, must have been so captivated with its triumphant
presentation of Catholic principles as to be unprepared for the
recoil of the renunciation which soon followed the stoppage of
his work. Only the Catholic who has been able to realize the
abject condition in which such men as Lamennais and O'Con-
nell found religion when they stood forth alone to champion
it, can appraise the courage and the genius which the task
required. To dwell upon the glories of the Essay upon In-
difference, to follow the eagle flights of the Avenir, and then
to behold the Daedalian collapse of the bold spirit who
guided it, fills the soul with the gloom of profoundest tra-
gedy. Mr. Gibson has preserved his literary equanimity very
fairly all through the pages of his narrative. He is sympa-
thetic and just in his treatment of Lamennais, and offers no
opinion on points where the judgment of the reader ought
manifestly to be left unfettered by anything but the presenta-
tion of facts. But he enables most readers, by his analysis of
the characters and the varying scenes embraced in his survey,
to form just conclusions on the higher action of a momentous
and far-reaching drama.

To understand the sort of gambler stake which Lamennais
played for his own soul and for society, we must gain some
knowledge of the force which impelled him, beside and be-
yond the impetuous torrent of his native vehemence
and earnestness. This force was nothing less than the
belief that he was an instrument specially raised up by Provi-
dence for the working out of a vast design of religious and
social reconstruction. He did not merely cherish this belief in
the recesses of his own mind, unfortunately, but confided it
freely to his personal friends, orally and by letter ; so that
when his great fabric of reconstruction was dashed down by
the breath of authority, he could not in spirit survive the
stroke which was the death of his pride. He seemed to feel
that the justice of the tragedy required an awful denouement,

640 A NEW WORK ON DE LAMENNAIS. [Feb.,

and his fall must be as that of Lucifer, to rise no more. Stu-
por seizes us as we look upon the appalling grandeur of this
despair. Lamennais was past middle age when the defeat
overtook him. He was fifty-two years old. The splendor of
his form had filled the world ; the sublime fury with which he
had espoused the cause of the people had paved the way for
revolution. All this had been done in the hope of purifying
and emancipating the church, on the one hand, of elevating
the toiling masses, on the other. The coursers of the sun
liked not the charioteer, and Phaeton paid the penalty of his
overweening confidence.

The majority of Catholic readers are, no doubt, familiar
with much of the private life of the Lamennais family in the old
chateau of La Chenaie as well as at St. Malo. The delightful let-
ters of Maurice de Guerin, Sainte-Beuve, and others of the bright
circle which the great abb gathered about him, have preserved
those beautiful days of social converse and philosophy as golden
reflections of a fair city sunk beneath the waves. Mr. Gibson
devotes more of his book to the ministerial and philosophical
work of the abb6 than to family and personal details, yet he
has given sufficient to fill in his large canvas respectably. A
good space is devoted to the singular relations which Lamen-
nais and Auguste Comte occupied toward each other at dif-
ferent periods. These two great minds ran on somewhat paral-
lel lines of time and place, and at times their paths coalesced,
only to branch off at angles of mutual aversion. In their earlier
days Lamennais felt rather drawn toward Comte through sym-
pathy, as to a great mind in error ; when later on he broke
away from the church and set forth a philosophical thesis of
his own, he felt an invincible repugnance toward Comte and
always spoke of his creed contemptuously as " that philosophy."
It is a very singular circumstance, as pointed out by Mr. Gib-
son, that the founder of Positivism, although a professed 'sceptic
regarding Catholicism, was at one time impelled by mental dis-
tress to ease his conscience by a confession, and the Abbe de
Lamennais was the one confessor toward whom he was attracted.
We are reminded by this incident of a fact which must strike
many as conclusive of the truth of the Catholic Church. The
great sceptics and agnostics of modern days have generally
looked to Catholicism as the only alternative to their own em-
piric systems and theories. Comte, Mill, Huxley, Spencer,
Romanes, and others have put themselves on record in this
light. Some of them have said and written delightful things

1897-] A NEW WORK ON DE LAMENNAIS. 641

about a faith which was too sublime and perfect for their
science-filmed vision. No other church seems to have been
worth, in their view, a moment's thought.

One inference which is suggested by Mr. Gibson's line of
argument, in this biographical sketch, may be fairly taken into
account in closing the pages and musing over the ultimate lot
of one so great. It is quite logical to postulate that had the
Pope's Infallibility been a living dogma in Lamennais' day his
great mind would not have been lost to the Church. The ques-
tions which he raised were ultimately as between the Papal au-
thority and the French episcopate, and the final decision did
not then rest, as it does now, with the pope deciding ex cathe-
dra, but with the church in council. Hence the terrible impasse"
in which he found himself by his writings in the Avenir and his
action in the Agence Generate pour la Defense de la Liberte" Re-
ligieuse. In chopping at the net in which he found the national
church enmeshed he got himself hopelessly and inextricably en-
tangled. His case affords an awful warning against the merging
of the priest in the politician. Had he but been blessed with
the grand humility of his beloved disciple and colleague, La-
cordaire, he might have saved himself from ruin.

But the mind and natural temperament of Lamennais were
different. He was raised in thought at times, like a helpless
balloonist beyond his own control, and swept along in strata
of burning atmosphere, like the Apostle who beheld the Open-
ing of the Seals.

There was a prophetic fury about his writing at times whose
imagery and diction are not of earth. In estimating his mourn-
ful retrogression and surcease, we ought not to overlook this
indication of an overheated intellect ; and one more faint hope
for his eternal quiet is afforded in the possibility that, could
his beloved brother, the Abbe Jean, have reached him ere he
closed his eyes and turned his face to the wall in death, a
reconciliation with Heaven and family might have come. The
grounds for* this possibility are evident from the correspondence
reproduced in Mr. Gibson's book a book in every respect
worthy, we may add, of its great theme.

They rise in fear : the place is not secure ;

They leave in sadness, and in suffering
The holy three, the Maiden-mother pure,

The just one Joseph, and the infant King.

1897-] MARY IN EGYPT. 643

MARY IN EGYPT; OR, THE SHADOW OF

CALVARY.

BY JAMES M. HAYES.
I.

[UDEA'S hills are robed in silvery light,

The starlight slumbers on Genezareth's breast ;
Through pines and palms the voices of the night
Sound strangely sweet, and all is peace and rest.

Ah, calm the hour, when lo ! from heaven high

A light celestial breaks upon the land ;
Angelic wings are flashing through the sky ;

On Joseph's ear descends high Heaven's command :

"Arise, and fly from Herod's sword this night ;

Arise, and fly o'er hills and deserts wild
To Egypt's land ; depart ere morning's light ;

Arise, and take the Mother and the Child."

They rise in fear : the place is not secure ;

They leave in sadness, and in suffering
The holy three, the Maiden-mother pure,

The just one Joseph, and the infant King.

II.

Starlight cold and cheerless lies

O'er the land where men are sleeping ;

'Neath the purple midnight skies

Shepherds are their watches keeping ;

Beautiful the scene and fair,

Hark! upon the listening air

Sounds a wail of wild despair

Mothers o'er their babes are weeping.

From the distance, as they fly,
Comes this voice of lamentation,

First a plaintive, woeful sigh,
Now a wail of desolation :

Joseph hears, not apprehending ;

Sorrow Mary's heart is rending,

644 MARY IN EGYPT ; [Feb.,

And in grief and pain is bending
O'er her Child in supplication.

Now she feels the dreadful meaning

Of the words by Simeon spoken :
Jesus, on her bosom leaning,

Meant this grief to be a token
Of that distant day of days
When, before her mother's gaze,
Men her murdered Son would raise,

And her pierced heart be broken.

On they passed for many a day,

On across the desert sand
'Neath the glittering noonday's ray ;

By the scorching breezes fanned ;
'Neath the glimmerings of the starlight,
Or the moonbeams, silvery white,
Or through solemn, sombre night,

Into Egypt's storied land.

Penned by many an ancient saint,

Seen in sacred ecstasy,
Legends beautiful and quaint

Cluster round this mystery ;
All presage a future woe,
All a coming sorrow show,
Shadows all, that darkly grow

Falling from Mount Calvary.

THE DIVINE CHILD is THE SOLUTION OF THE RIDDLE OF HUMANITY ASKED

BY THE SPHINX.

1897-] OR, THE SHADOW OF CALVARY. 645

III.

The sable shadows of the sombre night

Fall gently o'er the desert's burning breast ;

The busy, bustling haunts of men are quiet,
Creation sleeps in peaceful calm and rest :

The creatures rest ; the creatures' God alone

Is homeless, restless in the desert wild ;
Descended from a kingly Father's throne,

Behold the exiled, outcast, helpless Child !

O majesty stooped down from high estate !

Eternal love beyond our mortal ken !
Of this debasement of the Lord most great,

What think the sinful, doubting hearts of men ?

One night, 'tis said, within a robber's cave
The holy travellers seek their limbs to rest ;

They meet, within, no bandits no one save
A mother with a babe upon her breast :

This mother's face shows pain, and grief, and dread ;

The child is beautiful, though strangely so ;
As fair as lilies o'er a dead face spread

A leper, white as God's eternal snow.

The Virgin Mother bathes her Child divine,
He sinks to rest beneath her soothings mild ;

The bandit's wife, urged by some power benign,
Within the suds doth wash her leperous child.

And lo ! from death to life's ecstatic trance
The leper child, the snow-white infant, grows

Before its trusting mother's wondrous glance
As beautiful as summer's blushing rose.

But now, o'er Mary's heart the dismal shade
Of Calvary falls, and darker grows, and deep ;

She sees her Jesus on the cruel cross laid
His open side, His wounded hands and feet.

Beside her Son she sees the leper child,

A great strong man, a captive thief he dies ;

She hears his words, dark, incoherent, wild ;

Her mother's heart is touched, and to her Son she cries:

646 MARY IN EGYPT. [Feb.,

" O Son ! remember many years ago,

When flying from the rage of Herod's might,

This sinner, then a leper white as snow,

Was healed, at my request, that distant night.

Oh ! now I ask, I pray Thee now, my Son,
To heal his soul, to make it chaste and white ;

Oh ! finish now the work Thou hast begun,
The work I prayed for on that dismal night."

The Saviour speaks ; the music of his tongue
Is pure, and low, and sad, and strangely sweet,

As strains from golden lyres angelic rung,

Or harp-strings which the singing zephyrs greet:

The Saviour speaks, and endeth in a trice
He speaks in answer to this prayer's request :

" My son, thou shalt with Me in Paradise
Enjoy, this day, my heavenly Father's rest."

I thus might many a legend tell,

To show how Mary's paths were laid

Where sorrow's gloomy shadows fell,
By Calvary's sombre mountain made.

I thus might show our Lady's care
Where love for God and man is seen ;

I thus might show her wondrous fair,
In sorrow beautiful, serene :

As gentle flower that grows apart,
And gives no fragrance to the air

Until is bruised its fragile heart,

When breathes it perfume soft and rare-

So " tota pulchra es ! ' my Queen,
Most beautiful in sorrow's shades ;

Creation's purest flower serene !

Thou spotless Mother ! peerless Maid !

Thy soul was pierced by sorrow's dart ;

Thy soul with grief and woe was pressed ;
Oh ! keep us near thy sacred heart,

And there eternally to rest.

1 897.] INTEMPERANCE AND PAUPERISM. 647

INTEMPERANCE AND PAUPERISM.

BY REV. F. W. HOWARD.

STATISTICAL investigation has come in our day
to be regarded as an indispensable adjunct in the
study and treatment of all important social prob-
lems. The limitations of statistics and the possi-
bility and temptation of cloaking over fallacies
by an improper use of the methods of the science have fre-
quently been pointed out ; but there is no one to-day who
properly understands the use and method of statistical inquiry
who does not appreciate its value and its importance. The
great danger arising from the injudicious use of statistics is,
that important generalizations are too frequently based on in-
sufficient data. In such cases the fault lies not sp much in the
statistics as with the one who uses them. Moreover, as be-
tween a judgment based on a statistical inquiry, no matter how
insufficient, and a mere impression or judgment based on indi-
vidual experience, unsupported by any special inquiry into the
facts, the presumption is in favor of the former. The useful-
ness of statistics has, indeed, so clearly been demonstrated that
every civilized government to-day has organized departments of
statistics and expends vast sums of money in prosecuting such
inquiries.

Among American commonwealths Massachusetts has long
been recognized as having the most efficient and progressive
state bureau of statistics. This bureau was brought to its high
state of excellence by Mr. Carroll D. Wright, now the Commis-
sioner of Labor at Washington, and the lecturer on Economics
at the Catholic University. The statistical work of the bureau
has maintained its high standard under his successors, and its
publications are regarded as important and trustworthy. The
first part of the report of the chief of the Massachusetts Bu-
reau of Statistics of Labor, Mr. Horace G. Wadlin, is now at
hand, and this article will consist of a discussion of the first
portion of this report. The report consists of an account of a
very important, painstaking, and, so far as can be ascertained,
reliable investigation of " The Relation of the Liquor Traffic to
Pauperism, Crime, and Insanity." The scope and general char-

648 INTEMPERANCE AND PAUPERISM. [Feb.,

acter of this report are well indicated in the section of the
legislative act ordering the inquiry :

" The Bureau of Statistics of Labor is hereby directed to as-
certain, from all sources available, facts and statistics showing
the number of commitments to all institutions, penal and chari-
table, resulting from the use or abuse of intoxicating liquors ;
the number of crimes of each class committed ; the number of
paupers whose present condition can be traced to the use or
abuse of intoxicating liquors by themselves, or by their parents,
guardians, or others ; the number of persons who have been
pronounced insane, and whose condition can be traced to the
use or abuse of intoxicating liquors by themselves, their ances-
tors, or others ; and in general such other data as will tend to
show the relation of the liquor traffic to crime, pauperism, and
insanity in this commonwealth ; and the period of time to be
covered by this investigation shall include not less than twelve
successive months."

This report was largely the result of personal investigation,
and the inquiry is perhaps the most thorough one of the kind
that has been undertaken in this country. A study of this re-
port will be helpful to any one who wishes to ascertain how
far theories about the causes and effects of intemperance are
supported or disproved by the facts bearing on them ; but it is
important, of course, not to see more in the figures than they
show.

A study of the evil of intemperance is a study of its causes
and a study of its effects. The causes of intemperance may be
grouped under three general heads :

I. The weakness of the individual will is certainly the main
cause of the evil. When single acts have passed over into habits
control of one's actions becomes correspondingly difficult. But
the formation of habit is an insidious process which can easily
be controlled at the outset. It may be questioned whether
there are cases of intemperate habits which could not have
been easily controlled at the time of their formation by the ex-
ercise of a slight degree of will power. It is for this reason
that the strongest appeal is made to the moral resolve of the
individual, for herein lies the most effective cure. Particular
effort is made to direct the habits of the young ; for a given
amount of effort bestowed on the young will yield better results
than the same amount bestowed on adults. Intemperance is
not a necessary evil, because man is the controller of his ac-
tions.

1897-] INTEMPERANCE AND PAUPERISM. 649

II. The influence of heredity is often referred to as one of
the important causes of intemperance. It may be true to some
extent that intemperate habits in parents beget such a diathesis
or predisposition in the offspring. The importance of this in-
fluence has been emphasized by those who regard intemperance
as a disease. But the question, to what extent heredity enters
in as a cause of intemperance, is at present only a matter of
conjecture, and no obtainable figures give conclusive evidence
on this point.

III. The third group of causes may be denominated unfavor-
able environment. Very often intemperance ascribed to heredity
is merely the result of the unfavorable surroundings of an intem-
perate home. Persons who are said to inherit intemperance
would in many cases be temperate if placed in different sur-
roundings. The importance of good homes and good surround-
ings as factors contributing to temperance reform is now
thoroughly appreciated, and it is quite true that effort directed
towards the amelioration of material conditions is often pro-
ductive of greater good results than the same amount of effort
directed towards the cultivation of the will power of the indi-
viduals. When a man is in some surroundings the presumption
is that he will remain temperate, while in other situations the
contrary presumption holds. Hence, there is good reason to
believe that if we compare two groups of people in different
localities, the amount of intemperance will be found to corre-
spond, in some degree, to the character of the surroundings.
Thus, we should expect to find more intemperance among five
thousand people if they lived huddled together in a close area
than we should among the same people if they lived in a wide
territory and had better homes. This has been partially con-
firmed by some investigations made in European cities.

From the stand-point of the temperance reformer the in-
quiry into the causes of intemperance is of the utmost import-
ance, since it gives him knowledge for the direction of his
work and enables him to see the point on which the greatest
effort should be expended. It is a healthy sign that the work
of temperance reform is now moving along many lines. Men
are not merely urged to become or remain temperate, but
effort is made to place them in such material conditions as will
enable them more easily to be so. Philanthropic citizens in-
terest themselves in the work of providing better home sur-
roundings for the poor, and the state exercises its power over
the liquor traffic in ways more or less efficient.

650 INTEMPERANCE AND PAUPERISM. [Feb.,

The etiology of the temperance problem, therefore, is the
most important side of it for the practical man ; but the study
of the effects of intemperance is only one degree less import-
ant, and it is difficult, if not impossible, to make a separation
of the two in any thorough study of the problem. The report
of Mr. Wadlin is the account of an inquiry into the effects of
the evil ; an attempt to ascertain how far intemperance may
be regarded as a cause of pauperism, crime, and insanity. It
is interesting and important to study how these evils are re-
lated, whether as cause and effect; and if so, in what propor-
tion of cases the relation holds ; or whether they are to be re-
garded as effects of some other common cause. If we could
establish by reliable statistics that intemperance is a cause in,
say, fifty per cent, of a given number of cases of pauperism,
we have a valuable and interesting fact. This study enables
us to judge of the importance of temperance reform in its
relation to other reforms. It is true that reformers often try
to see the universe in the light of a single idea. It is only
by a study of the effects of an evil that we can definitely as-
certain the importance which the reform of that evil should
hold to other great moral movements. If intemperance is the
cause or an important contributing cquse in the evils of pau-
perism, crime, and insanity, then, naturally, if we destroy in-
temperance we shall bring about a great abatement of those
evils which largely result from it. But it should not be for-
gotten that intemperance is a great evil in itself, even if it is
not related to any other grave social problem. It may or may
not be true that too much emphasis is placed on intemperance
as a cause of social evils. A cause is often discredited when
a remedy is amplified to a panacea. But entirely aside from
its connection with any unfavorable social conditions alleged
to be produced by it, intemperance should be suppressed be-
cause of its own demerits. It is an instructive matter to see
what light the figures of this report give us, and we shall,
therefore, give the conclusions of the report with regard to
the relation existing between intemperance and pauperism.

The following table gives the number of cases investigated :

Males, 2,633

Females, 597

Total, 3,230

Included in this total there were 281 children under ten

I897-] INTEMPERANCE AND PAUPERISM. 651

years of age, and this fact must be borne in mind in any ex-
amination of the tables. The term pauper is used to describe
all those who in other publications are designated as the de-
pendent classes. The term pauper implies a reproach, and is
manifestly inappropriate when applied to those whose depend-
ence is due to no fault of their own, as in the case of children.
The word dependent is of more common use when the whole
class is included, but it will be necessary here to use the
terms of our report. The following questions with tables ap-
pended show some of the interesting results of an analysis of
the figures.

I. Is the person's present condition of pauperism due to
the use or abuse of intoxicating liquors ?

Yes. No. Not ascertained. Total.

1,274 1,427 529 3,230

II. Did the intemperate habits of one or both parents lead
to the pauperism of the person considered ?

Yes. No. Not ascertained. Total.

156 2,734 340 3,230

III. Did the intemperate habits of the legal guardians of
the person, other than* the parents, lead to his or her state
of pauperism ?

Yes. No. Not ascertained. Total.

47 2,856 340 3,230 t

IV. Did the intemperate habits of others, not parents or
guardians, lead to the pauperism of the person considered ?

Yes. No. Not ascertained. Total.

99 2 784 347 3,230

These tables show us that pauperism was due to intemper-
ance of the individual in 1,274 cases, to parents in 156, to guar-
dians in 47, and to others in 99, a total of 1,575 cases. Else-
where in the report we learn that 47.74 per cent, of all the
3,230 persons examined had one or both parents intemperate ;
25.91 per cent, had parents who were total abstainers ; and in
26.35 per cent, of cases the facts were not known. Whatever
direct influence of heredity there may be is confined to the
small number of 156 cases. We have no warrant from the
figures, however, for saying that heredity was the cause in any of
these cases. There is, therefore, according to this report, a
direct relation between intemperance and pauperism established
in 1,576 out of the 3,230 cases investigated. Of course statistics

652

INTEMPERANCE AND PAUPERISM.

[Feb.,

of this kind do not warrant final conclusions, and they need
to be confirmed or disproved by collateral evidence and subse-
quent inquiries. In this connection it might be said that it
would be a valuable thing to institute a careful inquiry into
the causes which bring about the dependency of children on
charitable support. Such inquiry might be undertaken on a
limited scale by some one having charge of such work, and it
might lead to valuable results.

We have just seen that intemperance is the cause actually
assigned for the pauperism in 1,576 of the cases. From other
tables we learn that 15.63 per cent, of the 3,230 paupers were
reported as excessive drinkers ; 49.63 per cent, were addicted
to drink ; 26.81 per cent, total abstainers, chiefly young per-
sons ; and 7.93 per cent, habit unknown ; 65.26 per cent, of
the whole number were affected by the drink habit.

The following table gives the age classification, the number
addicted to the use of intoxicating liquors, the number whose
habits were unknown, the number of total abstainers, and the
total number of cases :

Number addicted to the use

Habits

Total

Total number

Age.

of intoxicating liquors.

unknown.

abstainers.

of all cases.

Under i

146

1-4

5-9

10-14

1 S~ 1 9

2 9

126

20-29

461

206

732

3-39

00 1

763

40-49

495

608

50-59

307

370

60-79

204

2 5 8

Total,

2,108

256

866

3,230

We note here how the liquor habit increases with age. The
percentages of drinkers of the total number of cases are as follows :

Ages.

15-19,
20-29,

30-39,

cent.

Ages.

40-49,

50-59,

60-79,

Per cent.

. 80
82

We may next examine the number of total abstainers, which
in the above table is given as 866. Of this number there were
281 children under 10 years of age. Separating the remaining
number by sexes, we have the following table :

1897.] INTEMPERANCE AND PAUPERISM. 653

TOTAL ABSTAINERS.

Age. Men. Women. Total.

10-14, ... 40 22 62

15-19* ... 32 54 86

20-29, . . . 81 125 206

30-39, . 44 44 88

40-49, . 34 21 55

50-59, . 25 13 38

60-79, ... 28 12 40

80 ... 7 3 10

Total, . . .291 294 585

This number of total abstainers, 866, is thus found to con-
tain 281 children under 10 years of age, and 294 women over
this age ; leaving 291 total abstainers among 1,967 males over
10 years of age, and 217 whose habits were unknown. The re-
lation of intemperance to adult male pauperism is thus found to
be very close. Again, we note that there were more women
paupers between the ages 20-29 than in any other class. The
total number was 184, and this includes 125 total abstainers.
The fact that so large a number of women of this age were
paupers is doubtless due to a special cause, and their presence
in the general group gives it more credit for sobriety than it
is entitled to. If we exclude all the male paupers under 20
and all the female paupers under 30, we have 2,568 left out of
the 3,230 cases. Among these 2,568, 312 were total abstainers
and 227 cases were doubtful. The relation between intemper-
ance and pauperism is found to exist among 80 per cent, of
these 2,568 cases, and according to this investigation, therefore,
the relation is a very close one indeed.

The conclusion, then, is that if we root out intemperance a
large amount of adult pauperism will cease, and if those who
contend against intemperance do so because they wish to destroy
pauperism, we have reason to say from the study of these
figures that their energy has not been wasted. On the con-
trary, it has been well expended.

There are other causes of pauperism than drink. In its
worst type pauperism is a form of degeneration, and due to
physical and congenital causes. Such pauperism is found in
the lowest stratum of a population ; and, strange to say, we find
that in such cases intemperance often is but a factor of small
importance. The seven generations of the famous Jukes family
studied by Dugdale contained many paupers but few inebriates.
The tribe of Ishmael, a roving band of vagrants in the States
VOL. LXIV. 42

654

INTEMPERANCE AND PAUPERISM.

[Feb. r

of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, was not found to contain much
intemperance. But paupers of this kind are isolated from the
rest of the population. They are not and never were physically
capable of rendering efficient service to society. .They are
usually mentally defective as well as dependent, and they tend
to extinction. But pauperism allied to intemperance is usually
the evidence of a life of wasted opportunity. When pauperism
is caused by intemperance it means that a life of usefulness has
been lost to the community. If, therefore, intemperance can
be controlled, it is hardly to be expected that the most de-
graded type of pauperism will be destroyed, but it does mean
that a grave injury to society that results in other forms of
pauperism will, to a great extent, cease.

We ought to note here the caution that pauperism should
not be identified with poverty. Pauperism is a state of de-
pendence on the bounty of others which in some cases is due
to no fault of the individual, as in the cases of children, and in
other cases is due to the evil habits of the person, as is doubt-
less the fact in many of the adult paupers described in this
report. We all know the lines of the poet about " honest
poverty," and the vast majority of those who are compelled to
struggle against misfortune or a hard fate would scorn to be
dependent. It might be comfortable to many who fail in
social justice to believe that intemperance is the cause of all
poverty ; that if a man is in poor material conditions it is due
to his own fault. But it is as needful to beware of the view
that everything an individual may suffer is due entirely to his
own fault, as it is to beware of the view that everything he
suffers is due to somebody else's fault.

1 897.] CHRISTABEL? s CONFLICT. 655

CHRISTABEL'S CONFLICT.

BY THE AUTHOR OF " TYBORNE."

! ID you ever see such a happy face?'

These were the words that fell on my ear as
I stepped out on the platform of the little station
of Mortley.

They were uttered by one of my fellow-
passengers from London, an elderly couple who had been re-
garding my eager face watching for Mortley with amused
interest.

Happy \ I should think I was happy. I was eighteen, full of
life, health, and spirits, and I was going home after five years
of school in Germany. Home for me did not mean father or
mother. I lost my father before I was born, my mother when
I was a baby ; but my dear uncle and aunt had fully supplied
their places, and to them I was going to my uncle's pleasant
rectory at St. Mary's cum Mortley and there also I should
find my only sister, Caroline, who was three years my senior,
and who had therefore left school three years before me.

.Waiting for me at the station with the pony-carriage were
my two cousins, Walter and Alfred, both home for their holi-
days.

" Jump in, Chris," said Walter, "and I'll rattle you down in

no time."

" Will you rattle me into a ditch, I wonder ? '

"He'd be clever if he did that," laughed Alfred, "with this
old duffer of a pony. Why, Chris, 'tis the same old Wowo ; you
recollect him, surely?'

" Of course I do, dear old Wowo \ Let me kiss his nose ; don't
be hard upon him, boys, and go slowly. I want to feast my
eyes on the hedges and fields. And how you are grown ; what
fine young men ! I thought you would be dear little boys just
as you were when I left." Walter was so indignant at this
that he whipped Wowo, and we rushed down a hill at a fine
pace.

It was a lovely summer day, and I found my aunt and

656 CHRISTABEL? s CONFLICT. [Feb.,

Caroline sitting on the lawn at tea, and two gentlemen with
them.

These turned out to be the curate and the only son of the
great man of the parish, Sir George Colborne.

Carrie ran to me and gave me a kiss, and then dear Aunt
Bessie followed with her motherly hug, and led me into the
house to refresh myself after my journey. But first, of course,
I invaded my uncle's study.

My dear, dear Uncle Joseph ; I can see him now. His tall
figure with a slight stoop, his head with its spare locks of
silver, his mild blue eyes, and the sweet expression of his face.
He folded me in his arms with tenderness; then held me back
to look at me. " It's my own Christabel again," he said, fondly
brushing the hair from my brow; "her own dear,- honest eyes."

When I was tidy and fresh I went with Aunt Bessie to the
lawn for a cup of tea. Aunt proposed my going to bed as I
had been travelling all the previous day and night, but I de-
clined. The very sight of the trees and flowers, and the dear
faces, put new life into me.

How lovely the lawn looked with its beds of bright flowers
and its four standard roses, of which my uncle was so fond
and which had been the delight of my childhood : the white,
red, yellow, and York and Lancaster !

I leant back in a garden chair, and as I sipped my tea I
surveyed our two guests. They were a contrast.

The curate, the Honorable and Rev. Herbert Glenour, was
a fine young man ; not only good-looking, but with a fine, open
face and a fresh, energetic manner.

The heir of the Colbornes was certainly not brilliant. Short
and so round-shouldered as to be nearly deformed ; a cast in
one eye, a vacant face, yet with a sly look about him, a stam-
mering speech and boorish manners this was Mr. Ralph ; and I
thought how very kind it was of Caroline to take such pains to
amuse him. On each side of the lawn were thick shrubberies,
with winding paths leading to a little brook with a rustic
bridge. In that brook how often had I waded fishing for min-
nows in my childish days! These paths led on to the kitchen
garden with the walled fruit, of which my uncle was proud ; and
there was the apple orchard and the glebe fields, and in the
midst rose the old gray Norman church, and round it the
church-yard.

After tea I was eager to see the church, and the Honorable
Herbert volunteered to take me.

1 897.] CHRISTABEL' s CONFLICT. 657

" Shall I find any changes there?' I said.

" Very few, alas ! ' he replied.

" Oh ! I am glad ; I hate changes."

" I hope, Miss Christabel, you will throw your influence into
the scale and induce your uncle to let us pull down those
hideous pews."

As he said this we entered the church. There was a change.
I missed the dear old damp, musty smell, and said so.

" Of course in your time the church was only open on
Sundays, but now we have daily Matins and Evensong."

" And who in the world comes to it ? ' I cried.

"Well," said Mr. Glenour rather slowly, "the congregation
is not large : your uncle and aunt, and myself, James Curtis, and
one or two others, sometimes. I regret Miss Douglas never
comes ; she would set an example."

" And," I cried, " if you expect Miss Christabel to come you
are mistaken ; she never sets an example of anything. And if
you want to pull down our darling old pews, where I used to
stand on the seat and peep over the top, I will have nothing
to do with your plans."

" Oh ! you are not in earnest," he said.

" I am," I replied. " I have had enough praying at the
convent, and I think all this sort of thing popish. I thought
we were Protestants."

" O, dear Miss Christabel, don't use such a word ! We
are Catholics, Anglo-Catholics : And have you really been in
a convent? You could give many hints; but I suppose much
was wrapped in mystery."

" I never saw any mystery," I answered, " except the nuns'
patience with their pupils ; how they bore with us was always
a mystery to me. But everything was straightforward ; they
were so particular about truth."

We were interrupted by the inroads of the boys, who said
Aunt Bessie had sent for me.

II.

The happy summer passed away. The golden corn stood in
the fields, then fell before the reaper. There was the Harvest
Home, and the ball in the barn ; then the nutting parties in the
woods, and the gathering of blackberries and other rural de-
lights. And somehow in all these expeditions Mr. Glenour was
always at my side and Mr. Colborne at Caroline's.

I disliked this individual and once called him " that cub "

658 CHRISTABEL'S CONFLICT. [Feb.,

when speaking to Caroline ; but she gave me such a scolding
and read me such a lecture on despising people, and unkind-
ness to those less gifted than myself, that (though I kept my
own opinion) I never spoke of him again.

And gradually Herbert and I became more and more to
each other, and at Christmas we were betrothed, and I was the
happiest girl alive, I thought. I should have said Herbert was
only a deacon of the Church of England ; he was with my
uncle " reading for a title to orders," as it was called.

He was a younger son of Lord Alton, had some money of
his own, and was expecting a family living ; so he would be
able to marry in a year and we should be well off. And he
was so good, true, and honorable, and generous and brave,
throwing his whole heart into the work of reforming the
Church of England..

No one could be engaged to him without becoming High
Church, for his heart and soul were in his religion. We had
many discussions, and I learnt much Catholic doctrine from
him.

The nuns with whom I had been were bound by promise
not to interfere with the religion of Protestant children. A
dozen of us were under their care ; we had to hear Mass, but
an English lady came twice a week and gave us religious in-
struction as Protestants. Some of my companions were drawn
toward the Catholic faith and said they would be Catholics
when they were grown up ; but I was a sturdy little Protestant.

I was always thinking of home, how sweet Uncle Joseph
looked in his surplice, and of the dear old musty church.
Women are said to be illogical, but still it did seem to me
Herbert was more so than I. I did argue with him a little,
for it seemed to me his views were so different from the
rubrics and articles in the prayer-book ; but I found this vexed
him, and then in reality I cared for none of these things. I
was not a bit pious. I wanted to enjoy my happiness in my
dear home and all the delights of my betrothal. I was so pre-
occupied with self that I hardly perceived a change in my
uncle. He was always much consulted by the neighboring
clergy ; they held him in veneration he was so perfectly true
and straightforward, and no discussion or annoyance could ever
ruffle his outward serenity.

So men of all parties came to him. But of late, as I dimly
perceived, they came far oftener and stayed longer, and some
had a sort of perturbed look.

1897.] CHRISTABEL' s CONFLICT. 659

Herbert was not very easy either, though naturally I took
up much of his time and thoughts ; but his arguments soon
developed into anger. He was so sure of his ground, so sure
the Church of England had a brilliant future before her. One
day, I remember, he was very much upset because a certain
clergyman, who was very " High," had expressed surprise at
Herbert's engagement to me.

He had a wife himself, and it was not complimentary to her
to hear how he lamented over that fact ; but he said he had
married in his youth before the " revival of Catholic teaching,"
and, he added, they looked to the young men of the party to
set an example and practise celibacy. When this was re-
ported to me I said : " Why that would be just like a Catholic
priest."

Herbert colored up and said : " O Christabel ! we are Catho-
lic priests / shall be so next June but forbidding the clergy
to marry is a Popish innovation."

" But, Herbert, priests have to go among the sick and on
battle-fields and into all sorts of dangers," I said, "and it does
not signify, because they have no wives or children ; but you,
Herbert fancy your going into a small-pox hospital, for in
stance."

Herbert reddened again. " Why, Christabel, of course I
should have to go at the call of duty."

"Indeed you would not; I would not let you. And duty,
indeed! Would your duty be to break my heart?" And then
we had a little quarrel, and a delightful making up after-
wards.

The spring came on, and at last I could not help remarking
the sadness that rested on my uncle's brow ; and I saw that
Aunt Bessie's countenance was overcast. I asked her what
was the matter, but she put me off. My uncle passed a very
austere Lent. He fasted far beyond his strength.

There are no rules about fasting in the Church of England ;
so every one who fasts and in those days there were few who
did do what they think right.

Eastertide passed away, and early in June I was asked to
spend a few days with some relations of Herbert's who lived
about fifty miles off. Herbert took me on Wednesday and
was to fetch me back on Monday. So I can only tell the his-
tory of those few days at the rectory as I learnt them from
my aunt, and I give the narrative in brief words and without
comment.

66o CHRISTABEL* s CONFLICT. [Feb.,

III.

The day after I left Uncle Joseph received some letters
which seemed to agitate him. He remained all day shut up in
his study. He did not come to meals, hardly touched any
food, and said to his wife he should be busy and up all night.
She knew very well this meant that he would spend the night
as he often did alone in the church.

The next day he told his wife, Caroline, and Herbert that
his mind was finally made up to become a Catholic, and that
he was about to write to the bishop to resign the living into
his hands. He would await the bishop's answer before taking
any further step ; but that he would not officiate on Sunday,
but leave the services in the hands of others. Few words
passed ; even Herbert was awed into silence by the pale, set
face of one who was undergoing the keenest mental anguish.

The post-bag stood on the table in the hall and the post-
man called for it in the afternoon.

Just before he came on that eventful day Caroline took up
the bag, and said she would go and meet the postman. On
her way she abstracted my uncle's letter to the bishop.

On Sunday afternoon Caroline told my aunt she should go
for service to Woodly Church, about two miles off ; and " don't
expect me back," she said, " for I know the girls at the vicar-
age will ask me to stay."

So when I arrived on Monday, and Caroline was still absent,
we thought she was staying on at Woodly.

The next morning's post brought a great shock. A letter
came from Caroline. She had never been at Woodly; she
went to London on Sunday night from a distant station, was
married to Ralph Colborne by special license, and they were
gone to Paris. She told us about the bishop's letter ; that she
did not wish her uncle's resignation to be known till her mar-
riage was accomplished and had appeared in the paper. So
she now returned the letter to my uncle.

It was indeed a terrible grief to my poor uncle and aunt.
As to me, I hid myself, I was so overwhelmed with shame.

I may as well say here that the whole blame of Caroline's
conduct was thrown on my uncle, first by Sir George and Lady
Colborne, and then by the bishop.

It was " Romish deceit casting its shadow before," to get
his niece well married before he gave up his living; and he
had let her name appear in the paper as the niece of a bene-

1897-] CHRISTABEL' s CONFLICT. 66 1

ficed clergyman, and the papers with this announcement came
almost by the same post as the letter of resignation.

At last an imploring note from Herbert brought me out of
my hiding-place into the garden.

He was crimson with excitement and indignation. " What
are you going to do, Christabel ? '

" Do ? I don't know what you mean. I can do nothing; I
am too miserable. I only want to hide my head for shame."

" Oh, about Caroline ! pooh that's of no importance. Many
girls have done worse. It is your uncle I am thinking of. He
will leave this, and as he will go, the sooner he does so the
better ; what is to become of you ? '

" I must go with them, of course."

" I don't want you to go, Christabel I don't want to have
you plunged into the midst of Romish priests and nuns."

"What harm can they do me, Herbert? I have lived with
nuns, and met plenty of priests ; they've done me no harm.
As regards the nuns, they did me a great deal of good."

" That's quite a different thing. You would be in the midst
of their snares now. I want to arrange for you to stay with
the Holts for awhile, until we can be married."

" What can you mean, Herbert ? I would not make my
home with the Holts." And I added bitterly : " They won't want
me now after this disgrace of Caroline's ; and in fact, Herbert,
I am sure your family would not like your going on with the
engagement."

" Nonsense, my love! You really exaggerate the thing. It
will not be noticed in the papers ; I have read the announce-
ment it appears only in the usual marriage column. It is
your uncle's act that is of importance. But now, my Christabel,
listen : I have written to my father, and I believe matters can
be arranged that I shall succeed your uncle in this living, and,
dear, we can marry at once and the home you love so much
will be yours for ever."

For ever ! How the words struck on my ear for ever! in
this fleeting life whose chances and changes I was making sore
acquaintance with that very day.

" But," continued Herbert, " of course this cannot be unless
you break off all connection with your uncle. You must in
every way repudiate his act."

I sprang to my feet.

" Forsake my uncle ! ' I cried ; " why he has been a father
to me ; I will never do such a thing ! '

662 CHRISTABEL? s CONFLICT. [Feb.,

" My dear Christabel," said Herbert, " be reasonable. As my
wife how could you keep up relations with your uncle. Do
you suppose / shall have any intercourse with him after the
fatal step is taken ? '

" Then let all be at an end between us," I said haughtily.
41 I will not be your wife on those conditions. Moreover, I be-
lieve he is right and you are wrong ; I have seen it for months,
though I have tried to shut my eyes. You abuse the Church
of Rome on one hand, and yet ape her on the other. You shud-
der at the name of Martin Luther, and yet you reap the fruit
that he has sown."

So Herbert and I parted in anger, and I went to my room
to sob and weep bitter, bitter tears over my vanished happi-
ness and my lovely lost home.

IV.

The bishop's answer came speedily. The parish was put into
other care and my uncle was free.

He went immediately to London, and poor Aunt Bessie,
half blind with crying, began to take an inventory of all the
furniture and linen, as all was to be sold. I was glad to help
her. Oh, what a shadow had fallen over the house !

Herbert never came near us. I now learned from Aunt
Bessie how very badly off we should -be. About one hundred
a. year would be the amount of my uncle's and aunt's private
property ; I had twenty pounds a year until I was of age as
.an officer's daughter, my father having fallen in action and
there were the boys to think of, one at Rugby and one just
gone to Oxford.

My uncle had sunk nearly all his capital to produce an in-
come for his wife after his death, to revert to Caroline and
myself finally; his benefice was worth just ;i,ooo per annum.
What a destruction of hopes and plans was around us !

A week passed away. Herbert wrote to me, begging me to
reconsider my decision and let him see me. I refused. Then
my uncle wrote to say he had been received into the church
and had taken lodgings in a cheap neighborhood. He begged
aunt and myself to join him.

So we went. Shall I ever forget the first sight of those
wretched lodgings? the tiny parlors opening into each other,
and the bed-rooms above ; the common, ugly furniture ; the
grimy, draggle-tailed maid of all work to wait on us ; the red-
nossd, loud-voiced landlady ; the narrow, gloomy street. But

1 897.] CHRISTABEL'S CONFLICT. 663

soon I forgot the surroundings in gazing at my uncle. Such a
look of rest, of unearthly peace was on his dear face ! Such a
tone of joy in his voice !

We were close to a Catholic church, whither my uncle went
every day. The priest of this church had been a college friend
of Uncle Joseph, and he had invited him to copy for the press
some old crabbed Latin MSS., and uncle was so glad to have
something to do and to earn a little. Aunt at once put her-
self under instruction to this priest, and I used to sit by and
listen.

I was in a strange state of mind. I had no attraction or
drawing whatever to the " Church of Rome," as I still called
our holy mother. I did not care a jot for ceremonies. I thought
Herbert, in his white surplice, the most delightful sight that
could be seen ; and I loved the English services and singing
for his sake.

But strait was the gate and narrow the way that lay be-
fore me, and, as the priest spoke .to my aunt and answered her
questions, conviction forced itself into my mind. I saw there
was but one church holy, apostolic, universal, infallible ; but
my soul revolted against it.

My aunt's simple, gentle nature was soon convinced, and
she was of course well inclined to believe that the path her
husband had chosen was the right one, for she had looked on
him as her guide in all things ; but neither he nor Father Dai-
ton would allow her to take the step unless she clearly knew
and believed in Catholic doctrine. She was received into the
church, and the look of peace came on her face too, and she
was strengthened for fresh trials.

There were dreadful scenes with the boys. Walter had
just begun his first term at Oxford all his future hopes were
dashed to the ground ; and Alfred loved his school and could
not bear to leave.

Their position as sons of a well-beneficed clergyman was
lost ; their father was now a poor, obscure, unnoticed convert,
despised and disliked by those who once honored and admired
him.

Walter spoke bitter words to his father, and Alfred shed
the tears which are so seldom forced from a boy's eyes. There
was nothing for Walter but to accept a situation in a mer-
chant's office at seventy pounds per annum, and this was ob-
tained with great difficulty by Catholic friends, while Alfred
had a free place at Stonyhurst College.

664 CHRISTABEL'S CONFLICT. [Feb.,

It was cheaper for Walter to live with us. He hated his
work and his squalid surroundings; at meals he was silent and
morose, and whenever Father Dalton called he walked straight
out of the room. So time passed on and I took no step at
all. I read books on the other side, I had many conversations
with distinguished clergymen of the Church of England, but
nothing satisfied me. These books and clergymen did not
agree even those of the same " school," as it was called, differed
immensely.

Once I tried an experiment : I wrote to twelve clergymen
of the Church of England to ask what was the true doctrine
about the Holy Eucharist. Each sent me a different answer.
I wrote to twelve priests each one answered me in almost
identical words ; there was not a shade of difference be-
tween them. Still my heart was in revolt against my reason.
Then the consequences of my uncle's conversion pressed
on me.

The summer heat cameon, the lodgings were more and
more wretched, and the food was very poor and rough. I lost
appetite and felt ill and downcast.

I would not remain a total burden on my uncle's means, so
I gave some French and German lessons in what was called a
" Young Ladies' Academy."

The pay was miserable and the pupils pert, vulgar, and
stupid. I had no genius for teaching and no spirit to throw
into it, so I toiled on in the stuffy, close room, and my brain
whirled round.

Behind our lodging-house was a small yard, and at the end
a shed in which laundry work was carried on. Aunt Bessie
heard our landlady lament the sudden defection of one of her
best ironers, and she told her that as far as frills, collars, and
cuffs went she could undertake them, for she had always super-
intended fine ironing at the rectory ; her services were gladly
accepted, and Mrs. Clark got more work of the kind, so much
was my aunt's skill admired.

So thus my dear, humble aunt toiled away. Oh ! that long,
weary summer in London ; how I longed for fresh air, for
our shady lawn and distant blue hills, and the deep shadows
of our woods ! Last summer's joys stood before me like
ghosts.

Then, I need hardly say, I carried a sore heart for Herbert.
I had loved him fondly, and the sun of my life had set with
our separation.

1 897-1 CHRISTABEL' s CONFLICT. 66$

Summer and winter wore away, and the spring came on.
One day I received a letter from Caroline the first she had
written. We knew that during the winter Sir George had died,
and that now Caroline was Lady Colborne. Caroline wrote to
invite me to dinner and to stay the night.

After dinner Caroline said: "Just go into that inner room,
Christabel, and fetch me a photo you will see on the table in
a silver frame."

I went. I saw no photo, but a form rose up out of a cor-
ner and drew me to him it was Herbert.

" Christabel," he said, " my own love ; let this bitter separa-
tion end ; I cannot live without you."

"Now, dearest," he said, after a long talk, "our marriage
can speedily take place. You can be married from your sister's
house, and there will be no occasion to break off from your
uncle, as I proposed last year. You know I spoke in haste and
under the influence of a great shock and alarm. I see now
how my brave Christabel has resisted the snares cast around her.
And then, my dear, things are changed. Your uncle was an
important man amongst us, and I naturally thought he would
be a great man among them ; but it is not so he is nothing,
quite obscure and half starving. I am sure he must regret his
step by this time and will probably come back to us."

" Well," I said, without thinking, " he can't become a priest
as he has a wife." Herbert winced ; so I spoke on quietly :
" Then you won't ask me to forsake him ; and really I am
but a burden on him unless I go out as a governess, and he
won't let me do that."

" It is all settled, darling. You stay here and we will be
married in a few weeks."

" But, Herbert, listen to me. I do believe that I think they
are in the right, but I drive the thought away ; I am not
religious you know I never was but if you were to argue
with me

" Never mind, darling," he interrupted. " Never mind ; it will
be all right. I see your sister in the other room ; let us go and
tell her what is settled."

Caroline was delighted, and embraced me ; neither she nor
Herbert would hear of my going back to Shaw Street.

666 CHRISTABEL 's CONFLICT. [Feb.,

On the following Friday I was with Herbert in Bond Street,
and he proposed our stepping into the Gustave Dore Gallery.

We were on the threshold, and had paid for our entrance,
when a voice was heard behind us, " Glenour, is that you ? '
We turned and saw a portly clergyman panting for breath.

" I caught a glimpse of you and ran after you," he said to
Herbert. " I want to see you particularly ; can you possibly
spare me an hour half an hour even ? ' glancing at me.

Herbert whispered to me: " Christabel, this is important.
Would you wait for me in the gallery?'

I went and sat there breathlessly ; my whole soul was moved
within me.

The picture before me represented the battle between St.
Michael and his angels and Lucifer and his army. Victory had
come. Lucifer, not black and hideous as generally depicted,
but grand and gorgeous and clad in golden armor, was con-
quered and lay on the ground, his golden armor all besmirched
-yet splendid in his fall ; his army, all so strong and splendid,
lay strewn beside him not one was standing. St. Michael stood
on rising ground, his hands clasped on his sword, looking up to
heaven.

God made use of that picture to save my soul. I rose up
and fled from the room. When I reached the outer hall I tore
a leaf from my pocket-book, wrote a line on it in pencil, and
asked the man at the bureau if he would give this to the gen-
tleman who would return for me.

I had written : " I return to Shaw Street ; I will write from
there." . '

When I reached Shaw Street I went straight to my uncle,
who sat at his writing in his small, close room.

I threw myself on my knees beside him. " Uncle Joseph,
forgive me."

He put his thin hands on my head. " My child," he said,
" I have nothing to forgive. I know you are going through a
cruel struggle, and I have kept silence. I knew I could not
help you. Alone must we face these agonies."

Then I told him all, and his wisdom and tenderness con-
soled me.

VI.

Some bitter days followed. I had to write to Herbert and
to Caroline. I did not mind much her scornful answer, but it
was anguish indeed to read Herbert's reply.

1 897.] CHRISTABEL'S CONFLICT. 667

I had broke again the link that had been so suddenly re-
bound. The way in which he wrote of my uncle and of the
church excited my strong indignation. It was like pouring hot
water on a rose-tree. He killed my love. But O it died
hard ! That hot tide burnt and scorched and shrivelled up my
heart.

I did not need much instruction, for I already knew and
believed almost all the church's teaching.

I received a letter from the superior of a convent a few
miles from London begging me to come and stay there, and
I went and spent some peaceful weeks in that dear place with
its beautiful church and pleasant grounds, and I grew calm
and resolute and at last made a retreat, and for the first
time learnt the wonderful help ja.nd light that holy exercise
gives.

At its close I was received into the church. The nuns
asked Aunt Bessie to stay with them for a few days, and my
uncle remained at the Jesuit College, close by the convent so
both were present at my reception, First Communion, and
confirmation. My soul was filled with deep peace, and in my
case the conversion was, if I may so speak, a double one.
First, I was converted from heresy to the one true faith, and
then my heart was turned from the things of this world to my
Lord and my God. But I do not mean to say I was plunged
into ecstasy, or that I no longer felt the cross.

When we returned to Shaw Street the lodgings were as
squalid and stuffy as before. Sally, the maid, was no cleaner,,
nor the cooking less rough. Aunt went back to her ironing
and uncle to his copying.

Of course I, as a Catholic, was ineligible for the Young
Ladies' Academy, but I found a situation as daily governess
with rather better pay, and so I worked on.

The kind nuns never rested till they got an invitation from
the family of one of them for Walter and Alfred to spend
their holidays in a pleasant country house, and during that
time Walter had an offer from Lord Layton, whom he met
there, to go abroad for a year as companion to his son, who
was delicate and ordered to the Continent. And Alfred came
also for a week, and we found he had become very fond of
Stonyhurst, and was glad to return thither.

My dear uncle and aunt were much cheered by all this. So
the boys went, and life rolled on as before. We heard nothing
from Caroline, but we learnt that Herbert was ordained, had

668 CHRISTABEL'S CONFLICT. [Feb.,

taken possession of St. Mary's cum Mortley, and had married
his cousin, Ada Holt.

The news did give me a pang but not of regret ; my Her-
bert, as I had believed him to be, was dead and buried.

Some years passed by. Walter was still on the Continent,
for the change did young Layton so much good he settled to
remain for some years. Walter, however, remained a Protes-
tant. He had insisted on sending part of his salary to his
parents, and we were able to move i/ito somewhat better lodg-
ings, but always in the same neighborhood, for Father Dalton
supplied my dear uncle with work. One MS. after another he
brought to him. Few of them were ever printed ; the copying
was a device of the kind father to give my uncle occupation
and a slight revenue.

But at length my dear uncle's health began to fail. A cold
settled on his chest and he gradually faded away.

I wrote to Caroline, but she refused to come.

Walter returned in time to see his father and gladden his
heart by the news of his conversion.

He knelt beside the bed and said : " Father, forgive me ;
forgive my shameful conduct ; now I know all your conversion
has won for me."

And Alfred came and told his father how he felt called to
try his vocation as a Jesuit and was about to enter the noviti-
ate, and my dear uncle gave thanks to God for all his great
goodness and mercy. One day, in the midst of a very hot
summer, the end came. All the last sacraments and blessing
had been given. Uncle Joseph slept a little and wandered in
his sleep.

" The fields are so green," he said, " and how the water
sparkles ! I hear the ripple of the brook."

Then he was still for awhile and began again : " He shall
lead them by the living waters they shall see His face."

His breath seemed failing and the last prayers were said,
and when the priest had finished those wonderful supplications,
and paused for a minute, the gentle eyes of the dying man
unclosed, he looked upwards, and from the feeble lips fell
these words : " Thy rod and Thy staff, they have comforted
me." And then the spirit took its flight.

I stood beside him after he was laid in his coffin, clothed in
the white habit of a Tertiary of St. Dominic, and with the
rosary round his fingers and the crucifix on his breast.

I thought how different would have been his surroundings

1 897.]

CHRISTABEL'S CONFLICT.

669

had he died Rector of St. Mary's cum Mortley's, with all the
luxuries that could have been obtained, with crowds of inquir-
ing friends ; how the county gentry would have come miles to
his funeral and seen him laid in the vault beneath the chancel
of his own church. I thought of all he had given up his pleas-
ant home, his position, the church and people he loved. He
had been an excellent preacher ; he liked to preach and to
officiate.

All had been given upland he had borne poverty, obscurity,
contempt, hard treatment from his own sons, neglect from her
to whom he had been as a father, all without a murmur, yea
even with joy ; and he died in a shabby London lodging, and
would be buried in the quiet corner of a Catholic cemetery.
And as I stooped to kiss the cold white forehead some lines
I had often read flashed into my mind as applicable to my
uncle, and not only to him but to the many other Protestant
clergymen who in the prime of life, or perchance in old age,
give up comfort, wealth, or at least competence and position, at
the call of their Master.

Men reck little of them ; those they have left after good ser-
vices done insult and abuse them ; fools esteem their life mad-
ness and their end without honor but their lot is among the
saints.

So I drew the white sheet over the dead face of my dear
uncle and said to myself :

There it is over now,

God's be the glory ;
Ye who have heard it

Forget not their story.

VOL. LXIV. 43

CARMEL, AS SEEN FROM THE PLAIN OF ESDRAELON.

MOUNT CARMEL AND THE CARMELITES.

BY P. T. B.

OUNT CARMEL is a chain of mountains about
fifteen miles long running across Palestine. It
begins towards the north-west by a bold promon-
tory jutting out into the Mediterranean, and
rising abruptly about 600 feet above the sea.
On the summit of this promontory the present Carmelite mon-
astery is built. The mountain then stretches out towards the
south-east, gradually rising to the height of 1,742 feet. On the
north-east is the bay of Acre, with the town of Acre ten miles
distant. Further on towards the south is the rich plain of
Esdraelon and the ever-winding river Cison, on whose shores
Deborah sang her song of victory, and whose water ran crim-
son with the blood of the false prophets of Baal.

AN ATMOSPHERE OF SUBLIMITY.

Apart from its lasting associations with Elias and his school

1 897.] MOUNT C ARM EL AND THE CARMELITES.

of prophets, there is something in Carmel that has a charm of
sweetness and beauty, whether it be on account of its quiet
calmness, separated as it seems to be from all things here on
earth and living in an atmosphere all its own ; or whether it
be on account of its lofty position looking down on land and
sea, as if to forget both and soar high to heaven, there is
something inherent in the summits of- Carmel that inspires sub-
lime and holy thoughts.

THE RETREATS OF THE PROPHETS.

But it is on account of its religious associations that Mount
Carmel is of special interest to the pilgrim. On the summit
and slopes of the mountain are still to be seen the grottoes
where Elias, the man of God, and his prophets dwelt.. There,
in nature's secluded recesses, did those holy souls spend long
hours and days and nights in the contemplation of divine things,
passing their lives in continual union with God. What holy in_
spirations, what impulses of faith, love, and zeal for God's
glory, must the pilgrim feel as he visits those sanctified places !
There are the caves where Elias and the sons of the prophets
prayed and fasted ; there is pointed out the place where Elias
offered a pleasing sacrifice to the Most High, and where he
brought fire from heaven to destroy the soldiers of an idola-
trous king. There also are the hallowed places of Christian
times where the children of Elias lived and prayed, and where
their blood flowed under the sword of the infidel in testimony
of the faith they professed.

For years Elias dwelt in solitude on the mountain, instruct-
ing those who had come to devote themselves to the service of
God with him. Suddenly he leaves his lonely abode. He who
before had scarcely ever departed from his secluded grotto now
goes forth with firmness and determination as one conscious of
an important errand, and he directs his way to the palace of

the king.

ELIAS BEFORE THE IDOLATROUS KING.

To understand this sudden departure of Elias from his grotto
on Mount Carmel, and the memorable eve*nt consequent on it,
it will be necessary to explain the object of his mission. Achab,
who was then king of Israel, had abandoned the God of his
fathers and built temples to false gods. Contrary to the Jewish
law, he had married Jezabel, a Sidonian, and erected a temple
to her god in Samaria. The people quickly followed the king's
example, and soon almost all Israel had become idolaters.

672 MOUNT CARMEL AND THE CARMELITES. [Feb.,

Four hundred and fifty prophets served in the temple of Baal, and
four hundred and fifty more, who fed at Jezabel's table, served
in the temple of Astaroth, the god of the groves. It was to pro-
test against these idolatrous practices that the " word of the Lord
came to Elias," and " he stood up as a fire." He left his cave
on Mount Carmel and made his way to the palace of the king.
Faint and worn by repeated vigils and long fasting, his hair
hanging loose on his shoulders, clothed with a rough woollen
garment, a leather girdle round his loins, a cloak of sheep-skin
on his shoulders, and a plain mountain-staff in his hand, Elias
crosses the plain of Esdraelon, and makes direct for the city
of Jezreel, where King Achab dwells. With a determination
that gives majesty to his appearance he enters the precincts
of the palace and asks to see the king. No fear of royal dig-
nity or grandeur keeps him back ; he has a mission from God
to fulfil, and no human motive will make him shirk its accom-
plishment. The king, seemingly happy in his worldly honors
and idolatrous practices, expects no good news by the appear-
ance of this roughly-clad man from the grottoes of Carmel.
He nevertheless admits Elias to his presence to hear his mes-
sage. Elias appears before the king, and, with the conscious-
ness of one speaking in God's name, announces to the king:
"As the Lord liveth in whose sight I stand, there shall not be
dew nor rain these years, but according to the words of my
mouth." Achab listened with a feeling of wonder and sadness,
and scanned the prophet as if he were a spirit. When Elias
had delivered his message he withdrew, but " his words burned
like a torch." " What has made this man come and thus speak
to me ? ' said the king to himself. Then, arousing himself as
if ashamed of his inward trouble, he tried to regain courage.
" What evil can this man do me ? ' he uttered ; " have I not
the gods of Jezabel to protect me, and my soldiers to fight my
battles for me ? '

A CHALLENGE TO BAAL.

Three years are passed. During that time neither rain nor
dew has fallen, and a famine is raging in Israel. Achab had
in vain sought everywhere for Elias that he might put him to
death, but now, uncalled for, the prophet again appears before
the king. This time he has a different message. He has not
come to promise rain or to bring relief to those suffering from-
the famine ; he has come to challenge King Achab and Queen
Jezabel to a public test whether the god of Jezabel or the
God of Israel be the true God. Call the people of Israel to

1 897.] MOUNT CARMEL AND THE CARMELITES. 673

Mount Carmel, said Elias to the king, and bring the nine hun-
dred prophets of Baal and Astaroth, and let the people see
who is the true God. Achab accepts the challenge. Soon
after the silence of Carmel is broken by the motley crowd that
is gathered on its slope. The people of Israel have come from
all sides, old men, women, and children, all anxious to witness
the public test. The nine hundred prophets of Baal and Asta-
roth have also come to the place appointed by Elias. They
have with them statues of their false gods, they sing and dance
around them, King Achab with his court is close by. Elias
too is there. He had spent the night in prayer, and he now
appears before the crowd calm and confident. When all were
assembled he turned to the people, and asked them to halt no
longer between two sides. If Baal be the true god, let them
all follow him ; but if the God of their fathers be the true
God, then why not follow him and renounce Baal? They were
now come to witness who is the true God, and it would soon
be made manifest which side they should go. Then Elias
asked the prophets of Baal to prepare a victim and place it on
an altar, and call on their god to send fire from heaven to
consume it. He would afterwards do the same, and the god
that would send fire to consume the victim would be the true god.
The prophets of Baal prepared their victim, and having
placed it on an altar, they began to call on Baal to send fire
from heaven to consume it. They continued calling from morn
till noon, but no fire came. The king was troubled at their
not succeeding, and asked them to call again upon Baal. They
then began to scourge their bodies, and in mournful tones they
implored Baal to hear them. Elias calmly waited for his ap-
pointed time ; he even offered an apology for their long delay.
Perhaps, he said, your god is at present engaged in some im-
portant business, or perhaps he holds intercourse with some
other god, or it may be he has retired to rest, and it will
require louder cries to awake him ; cry louder, then, that he
may hear you. The false prophets became enraged at these
taunting words of Elias, and tearing their bodies still more
with scourges they rent the air with their mournful shouts
beseeching Baal to hear them ; yet no fire came from heaven
and their victim remained untouched on the altar.

DESTRUCTION OF THE FALSE PROPHETS.

When the time appointed for Elias to offer his victim had
come, he asked the people to bring together twelve stones and

674 MOUNT C ARM EL AND THE CARMELITES. [Feb.,

on them build an altar of wood. Then he placed his victim
on the altar, and round it he dug a trench which he filled with
water lest the people might find any reason for deception. He
then knelt down, and raising his hands in prayer he besought
the Almighty to manifest to his people that he is the true God
of Israel. Scarcely had he finished his prayer when a flame of
fire burst forth from the heavens and, fixing itself on the altar,,
consumed all victim and altar and dried up the trench of
water. Elias then turning to the people, said to them : Now
has the Lord your God shown to you that he alone is the
true God of Israel ; follow him, and overthrow the altar of BaaL
And to prove your sincerity take the false prophets and put
them all to death. The people at once seized the nine hun-
dred false prophets, and, leading them on to the plain below,,
put them all to death. Their blood flowed into the Cison and
reddened its waters as it flowed into the sea. Elias did not
think it enough to give some visible proof to the people that
the Lord is God ; he wished that they should rid themselves of
the means that might again lead them away from the service
of the true God. He knew if the prophets of Baal remained
that they would again reduce the people, and therefore did he
order, by divine inspiration, that they should all be put to death.
After this manifestation of the true God Achab, sad and de-
spondent, returned with his court to the palace. The people
went in different ways to their homes, thanking God for having
manifested himself to them in so visible a manner, and Elias-
slowly ascended to the summit of Mount Carmel. He there
entered into his poor grotto, and throwing himself prostrate on
the ground, he poured forth fervent acts of thanksgiving to
God for the recent victory over the false gods of Jezabel ; and
now that their prophets were destroyed, he besought the Al-
mighty to succor his people and send rain on the land. Ris-
ing soon after from his prayer, he sent his servant out on the
mountain-top to look across westward toward the sea to know
if there were any sign of rain. The servant went, and return-
ing, said he saw no sign of rain. Then Elias told him to go up
seven times and look in the same direction, and when he had
gone up the seventh time he returned saying he saw a little
cloud like a man's foot rise up out of the sea. Soon after the
heavens were black with clouds and " there was a great rain.
This small cloud rising out of the bitter salt sea, which was a
sign of rain to Israel, was typical of her who was centuries
after to rise pure and undefiled out of the bitter sea of cor-

1897.] MOUNT CARMEL AND THE CARMELITES. 675

ruption of the whole human race, and in that small cloud
Elias foresaw her who was to bring showers of spiritual plenty
to fallen humanity.

THE PROPHET SAVED BY A MIRACLE.

The next remarkable event that took place on Mount Carmel
was the destroying by fire of the soldiers who had come to
seize the prophet. Achab and Jezabel are dead, and their
idolatrous son Ochozias is king of Israel. Having met with some
accident, he sent his prophet to consult the false gods ; but
Elias comes forth from Mount Carmel, meets the false prophet,
and tells him to return and announce to the king that he will
soon die. The king was enraged at such an unexpected mes-
sage, and wishing to be no longer troubled by this man of
God, he ordered one of his captains to take with him fifty
soldiers and go and seize Elias. They instantly set out, armed
as if going to oppose an enemy, and when they had come to the
grotto where Elias dwelt, the captain called out to the " man
of God ' to come forth that they had come to make him a
prisoner of the king. Elias soon came forth from his grotto
and, looking at the captain, said : " If I be a man of God, let
fire come down from heaven and destroy you and your
soldiers." Scarcely had Elias uttered the words when the
captain and his soldiers were victims to the flames that de-
scended from the heavens. The king became more enraged at
having failed to seize the prophet, and ordered a new band of
soldiers to go and make Elias prisoner. On they marched
through the rich plain of Esdraelon, incited by the sharp
words the king had addressed to them, and resolved not to
fail in seizing the prophet. They came to the grotto where he
dwelt, but only to share the same fate as those who preceded
them. The king again sent another band of fifty, thinking they
might succeed. Coming near the prophet's cave, they saw the
bodies of the hundred soldiers and their two captains lying
dead on the ground, and fearing lest they too should soon lie
dead with them, they refrained from offering words of threat
or defiance to the "man of God." They besought him to
spare their lives, telling him they had come with no evil design,
but only to obey the orders of their king. Elias listened to
them, and coming down from his grotto went with them to the
king ; but only to announce to him that because he had sent
messengers to consult the false gods he would soon die, which
happened not long after.

676 MOUNT CARMEL AND THE CARMELITES. [Feb.,

On the summit of the mountain is still to be seen the grotto
from which he sent forth his servant to know if there were any
sign of rain, and from which he came forth to meet the soldiers
of Ochozias. This was his favorite grotto for fasting and
prayer, and over it is built the church attached to the monas-
tery of the Discalced Carmelites who now live on Mount
Carmel. On the slope of the hill there are two other grottoes
where Elias often retired for prayer, and at the base is a large
cave known as the school of the prophets.- Around this there
are many small caves where the companions of Elias dwelt.
Further on towards the south-east is the spot where Elias and
the prophets of Baal assembled to offer sacrifice, and opposite
in the plain below is still pointed out the place where the
people put the false prophets to death.

CARMEL UNDER THE NEW DISPENSATION.

In harmony with Carmel's ancient splendor shines its
Christian glory. Those secluded homes on its shaggy side in

THE MONASTERY ON THE SUMMIT.

which Elias and his prophets lived and prayed have ever
attracted holy souls seeking to live in peace and union with
God. After the ascent of Elias in his fiery chariot, Eliseus,
filled with the double spirit of his master, became the guardian
and father of the sons of the prophets, and from that time
holy men continued to live in the hermitages on the mountain
till the coming of Christ. They were like heralds in the old
covenant, anticipating by their practices those evangelical coun-

1897-] MOUNT CARMEL AND THE CARMELITES. 677

sels that Christ afterwards incorporated in his divine law. It
is related that the Holy Family on their return from Egypt to
Nazareth visited these holy men, and the God whom they
loved and served and desired to see then dwelt with them,
blessing them and filling their souls with that joy and peace
which the true servants of God alone possess. It is said, also,
that the Holy Family during their life at Nazareth often
visited the hermits on Mount Carmel.

After the Ascension of our Lord many of Mount Carmel's
holy hermits went to Jerusalem, received baptism from the
Apostles, and assisted in spreading the Gospel among the Jews.
Our Blessed Lady and St. John are said to have visited them
on Mount Carmel, and to have remained with them for some
time. This visit can be easily accounted for, since it is com-
monly believed, even by those who have devoted much
diligence to modern research among the Holy Places, that the
Blessed Virgin accompanied St. John and some others of the
Apostles to Nazareth, showing them where the Holy Family
dwelt, and narrating to them many touching incidents of
the life of her Divine Son. When at Nazareth she would
likely visit the hermits in their holy homes on Mount
Carmel, and the many places of interest on the mountain. We
cannot doubt but Carmel, Mary's chosen land, her fruitful vine,
was then blessed by its Queen, and " Carmel by the sea '
became henceforth Carmel of Mary. Thus did the Blessed
Mother of our Divine Redeemer bless the work begun centuries
before by the prophet Elias, and therefore do Carmelites claim
Mary and Elias as their spiritual parents.

OUR LADY'S FIRST SHRINE.

Soon after the death of the Blessed Virgin the hermits on
Mount Carmel erected an oratory on the mountain in her
honor. This was the first oratory ever erected in honor of her
to whom so many churches and cathedrals, towns and cities,
families and nations have since been dedicated. On Mount
Carmel did devotion to Mary begin, and by the children of
Carmel has it since been carried, planted, cherished, and
nourished all over the world.

In the fourth century St. Helena, the pious mother of Con-
stantine, visited Mount Carmel, and found there the oratory
built by the hermits in honor of our Blessed Lady. She is
said to have built another near the school of the prophets.
Early in the fifth century the hermits received a rule from John,

6;8

MOUNT C ARM EL AND THE CARMELITES.

[Feb.,

Patriarch of Jerusalem. By this rule uniformity of life was in-
troduced among them, though they still continued to live in

separate caves.

In the twelfth
century, when the
infidels were contin-
uing their savage
work of desecration
of the Holy Places
in Palestine, and al-
most all the hermits
of Mount Carmel
had been banished
from their holy
home, God raised up
one who was to re-
store the religious

w
55
<

on the

S life

tain. This was

moun-
St.

^-i

g Berthold, a native of
g the diocese of Li-

mosses, in France.

fa &

f Having joined the

Crusaders, he made
u a vow that, if God
o would grant them
$ victory over the in-
o fidels, he would con-

pj secrate the remain-
der of his life to
the service of God
in a monastic order.
The petitioned vic-
tory was gained, and
Berthold, after re-
turning home, be-
came a monk in a
monastery in Cala-
bria. But he was
destined for a new
crusade to the East.
God inspired him to return to the Holy Land and live with
the hermits on Mount Carmel. Strengthened by divine assist-

1 897.] MOUNT C ARM EL AND THE CARMELITES.

679

ance, he proceeded to Palestine, and, assembling the few re-
maining hermits he found near Mount Carmel, he formed a
small community near the school of the prophets. The pre-
sence of this little community on the mountain soon attracted
many others, and in a short time they were able to build a
church and monastery close by one of the grottoes of Elias.

THE RULE OF THE CARMELITES.

After the death of St. Berthold St. Brocard was elected
superior. He applied to Albert, Patriarch of Jerusalem, for a
new rule for his religious, as the one given them in the fifth
century was too general and indefinite. In accordance to this
request of St. Brocard and his religious, St. Albert, Patriarch
of Jerusalem, gave in 1207 to the religious living on Mount
Carmel a new rule based on the monastic rule of St. Basil.
This rule given by St.
Albert is known as the
primite rule of the Car-
melites, and it is that
which the Discalced Car-
melites now observe.
This rule of St. Albert
was but a definite and
concise collection of the
chief points of the rule
given to the religious in
the fifth century by John,
Patriarch of Jerusalem.
It had much in conform-
ity with the rule of St.

Basil and was adapted to BROTHER Jo RN BAPTIST, RESTORER OF MT. CARMEL.

the manner of life followed by the religious on Mount Carmel.
In a short time the Carmelite community on the holy moun-
tain became so numerous that they were able to found monas-
teries in all the principal towns in Palestine, in Tyre, Sarepta,
Tripoli, Antioch, and Jerusalem. When the Holy Land had
been abandoned by the Crusaders these convents were de-
stroyed by the Turks, and the religious banished or put to
death. In 1291 the infidels set fire to the monastery of Our
Lady on Mount Carmel, and massacred all the religious while
they were singing the " Salve Regina " round the altar of our
Blessed Lady. Thus was Carmel despoiled of her treasures.
Her children who had loved her so much had gone, many to

68o MOUNT C ARM EL AND THE CARMELITES. [Feb.,

their Oueen in heaven, and others to extend her devotion on

*w '

earth.

ST. SIMON STOCK.

Some years before the destruction of the convent on the
mountain many of the religious had passed into Europe and
founded convents in different countries. In 1244 the general
chapter held at Aylesford, in Kent, England, elected St. Simon
Stock general. This saint, to whom our Blessed Lady gave
with her own hands the Carmelite scapular, promising at the
same time that whoever would die wearing it would never suf-
fer the torments of the fire of hell, was born at Aylesford in
Kent. That he might more freely devote himself to prayer and
contemplation, he at an early age withdrew from his parents'
home into the solitude of a dense wood. There, it is said, he
lived in the stock of a large oak-tree ; hence his name Stock.
He always cherished a special devotion to the Mother of God.
Once when praying to her it was revealed to him that an order,
specially devoted to her, would soon come from the East, and
that he was to join it. This was the Order of our Blessed
Lady of Mount Carmel.

THE CARMELITES IN ENGLAND.

In the beginning of the thirteenth century some of the re-
ligious from Mount Carmel came to England with the English
knights who had taken part in the Crusades. A monastery was
built for them by one of these knights on the border of a for-
est near Aylesford, Kent. Simon soon heard of their arrival,
and recognizing that these were the religious made known to
him in his vision he embraced their mode of life. His piety
and learning soon marked him out as the instrument chosen by
God for the propagation of Our Lady's Order in the West.
He went to Oxford to complete his studies, and while there he
took the degree of doctor of theology. He then went to
Mount Carmel to better train himself to walk in the footsteps
of God's ancient servants. He stayed there for six years per-
fecting himself in prayer and the love of God. When the reli-
gious were finally banished from the holy mountain he returned
to England, and was soon after elected general of the whole or-
der. Under his wise direction the order rapidly spread over the
countries of Europe. He petitioned the Holy See to confirm
the rule given them by St. Albert, and on the ist of Septem-
ber, 1248, Innocent IV. issued a bull by which he confirmed
the Carmelite rule, and bestowed on the order all the privileges
of the mendicant orders.

I897-] MOUNT C ARM EL AND THE CARMELITES.

681

REFORM OF THE ORDER.

During the much-troubled time of the Western Schism the
observance of this rule in all
its details was considered too
burdensome, and an applica-
tion was made to the Holy
See to modify it in some re-
spects. In 1431 Eugenius VI.
published a bull by which the
rule was mitigated and cer-
tain dispensations granted.
Efforts were afterwards made
in different provinces to intro-
duce the rule of St. Albert in
its entirety, but with little
effect. The lasting reforma-
tion of the order, or the re-
newal of the observance of

the rule of St. Albert, was re-

served for the two great saints,
St. Teresa of Jesus and St. ST - J HN OF THE CROSS -

John of the Cross. Those who adopted the reform of these
two saints were called Discalced Carmelites ; those who continued

to observe the mitigated rule
were called Caked Carmelites.
The reformed Carmelites were
called Discalced because, imi-
tating their holy Father St.
John of the Cross, they went
barefoot or wore no shoes;
they used sandals instead.
Any one acquainted with the
"lives' of St. Teresa and St.
John of the Cross knows what
trials and sufferings these two
heroic servants of God had to
endure during the work of
reform. A new edition of the
interesting and admirable
work Histoire Generate des
Cannes et Carmelites de la
ST. TERESA. Reform de Sainte Te'rese has

682 MOUNT C ARM EL AND THE CARMELITES. [Feb.,

just been published by the Prior of the Discalced Carmelites,
Monelimar, Drome, France. It gives a complete account of the
Discalced Carmelites, both fathers and nuns, since their com-
mencement. Many interesting facts relative to St. Teresa and
St. John of the Cross, and not usually found in their " lives,"
are also recorded in this work.

THE RETURN TO MOUNT CARMEL.

For close on four centuries Mount Carmel had stood soli-
tary by the sea lamenting her lost children. In 1627 her joy
was once more restored when two Discalced Carmelite fathers,
Father Prosperus of the Holy Ghost and Father Thomas of
St. Joseph, and a lay brother, Brother Joachim, ascended her
heights and established themselves near one of the grottoes of
Elias. They were soon after joined by more Discalced Car-
melites from Rome, and in 1634 they had a new church and
monastery er'ected over the grotto of the prophet. Father
Prosperus was appointed superior of the community. On .the
3d of December, 1633, Urban VIII. by a special brief appoint-
ed the Very Rev. Father Paul Simon of Jesus Mary, who was
then general of the Discalced Carmelites, Prior of the Monas-
tery of Mount Carmel, a title which the general of the order has
since retained. By the same brief the pope forbade any other
religious order or congregation to build a convent on Mount
Carmel unless they first obtained special permission from the
Holy See.

THE TURKS SEIZE THE HOLY MOUNTAIN.

The Mohammedans began a new persecution against the
Catholics in 1635. They made their way into Palestine, and,
after destroying all the buildings round Mount Carmel, they
proceeded to the monastery, which they pulled down. They
took possession of the grotto of Elias, which they still retain,
guarding it with great veneration and performing religious cere-
monies in it many times during the year. When the persecu-
tion ceased Father Prosperus, who had returned to Rome after
having been expelled from the ruined monastery, again re-
turned to Mount Carmel, and obtained permission from the
Prince of Caifa to build a new monastery on the mountain. He
selected the grotto on the summit of the mountain as the site
of the new monastery, and over the grotto he built a church
which he dedicated to Our Lady of Mount Carmel.

But there was yet another trial in store for Our Lady's

1897.] MOUNT C ARM EL AND THE CARMELITES. 683

children. In 1776 the Mohammedan ruler of Egypt, Abou
Daheb, declared war against the Sheik Dhaber. He besieged
and took Jaffa, and advanced with his army on to Mount
Carmel. He plundered the monastery, robbed the church of
its precious ornaments, and beheaded all the religious he could
find. The following year this cruel persecutor of the Christians
died from the plague, and the religious who had escaped re-
turned to their plundered convent. These were joined by
other Discalced Carmelites from Europe, and the convent and
church were soon restored. In 1799, when Napoleon failed in
his attack on Acre, the religious on Mount Carmel turned part
of the convent into a hospital for the wounded French
soldiers. There they were attended with every care by the
religious ; but soon the savage Turk, seeking every means of
revenge on their European invaders, attacked the convent, and
put to death all the invalid soldiers. Before departing they ex-
pelled the religious, and reduced the convent arid church to a
heap of ruins.

THE WORK OF RESTORATION.

About twenty years later, John Baptist Frascati, a distin-
guished Italian architect who had become a lay brother with
the Discalced Carmelites, taking the name of Brother John
Baptist of the Most Blessed Sacrament, was commissioned by
the general at that time to go and examine the convent on
Mount Carmel. Filled with the most ardent desires to see the
shrine of Our Lady again towering the hill of Carmel, he went
and examined the plundered convent, and to his sad surprise
he found nothing but a heap of ruins ; even the very walls had
been pulled down. He found one solitary brother of the ex-
pelled community living at the foot of the mountain, and from
him he learned that nothing could then be done to rescue the
ruins from utter decay, for Abdallah Pasha, the governor of
Syria, was full of bitter hatred towards the Christians. Much
dejected, Brother John Baptist returned to Rome to tell his
sad story ; but withal the idea of restoring the monastery never
left his mind. That the holy mountain so long the home of
prophets and hermits should now be a deserted wilderness,
with its monastery and grottoes inhabited by savages and wild
beasts, was ever a source of grief to him. In 1826, when the
state of the East seemed favorable, he went to Constantinople,
and, through the influence of the French ambassador residing
there, he succeeded in getting permission from the Turkish

684 MOUNT CARMEL AND THE CARMELITES. [Feb.,

government to restore the ruined convent. He then proceeded
to Mount Carmel, and, seated on the fallen walls of the old
monastery, he sketched the plans of the present convent and
church. The solitary brother whom he met at his previous
visit had died just before his return, and now alone and un-
known he began his work of restoration.

When he had finished the plans he found that no means
were at hand to carry them out ; yet, determined at any cost to
complete the good work, he obtained permission from his gen-
eral and Propaganda to collect the necessary funds. Accom-
panied by another Carmelite brother, Brother Charles, he trav-
elled through Asia and Europe begging assistance to enable

him to restore Our Lady's
sacred sanctuary and the
home of her beloved children.
He sought assistance from
every class, both from the
infidel and the Christian, from
the poor as well as from the
rich, and the names of many
of the crowned heads , of
Europe, both Catholic and
Protestant, were among the
list of those who generously
contributed to the good work.
When he had collected suf-
ficient funds he returned to
Mount Carmel, and on the
feast of Corpus Christi, June
14, 1827, twenty-eight years
after the old convent had

been destroyed, the founda-
THE MADONNA OF MOUNT CARMEL. , . f ,,

tion stone of the present con-
vent was laid. Brother John Baptist daily helped in the work
of building, and he soon had the satisfaction of realizing his
long and ardent desire in seeing the present convent and
church completed.

THE NEW CARMEL.

The church, which is built in four half-circles, stands in the
centre of the monastery. Over the high altar of the sanctuary
is a large statue of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. In the east wing
is the ancient grotto of Elias, over which is an altar with a life-

MOUNT C ARM EL AND THE CARMELITES.

685

size statue of the prophet. Close by the convent is a hos-
pital or guest-house for visitors to the holy mountain, and to
all visitors the kindest hospitality is always given by the
fathers who reside there. Round the convent on both sides
of the mountain are many small caves where hermits formerly
dwelt, and which the religious now use during time of re-
treats. Along the summit of the mountain can be seen the
ruins of ancient villages that once prospered on its fertile soil,
but which are now covered with wild vegetation that make se-
cure places of refuge for wild beasts. Thus is Carmel despoiled
of much of her ancient beauty ; yet with her present wild en-
chantment she still retains one bright gem that is, her com-
munity of Discalced Carmelite Fathers, the children of our
Blessed Lady and Elias, and the spiritual inheritance of the
two mystic flowers of Carmel, Saint Teresa of Jesus and Saint
John of the Cross.

The Discalced Carmelite Fathers have at present several
convents in Palestine, India, and Persia. They also have con-
vents in Ireland, England, and almost all the countries of Eu-
rope. They are now establishing an international college for
the , whole order in Rome. They have no convents in the
United States ; but may we not hope that the time will soon
come when the wish of America's late poet-priest will be real-
ized? " we will have them, if we just will ; those brown-shrouded,
white-mantled, barefooted sons of the mystic daughter of Car-
mel, Teresa of Jesus."

VOL. LXIV. 44

686 ANGLICAN ANSWERS TO THE POPE'S BULL. [Feb.,

ANGLICAN ANSWERS TO THE POPE'S BULL.

BY JESSE ALBERT LOCKE.

HEN Peter speaks, by the mouth of Leo, the
world listens. Even beyond the community of
the faithful those who refuse obedience to the
Apostolic See and scout its authority neverthe-
less find themselves unable to ignore any im-
portant act or judgment of the Vicar of Christ. The effect of
the recent Bull, " Apostolicae Curae," on Anglican orders is an
excellent illustration of this. The world at large, as represent-
ed by the professedly secular journals, has given it considera-
tion and recognized its value as a judicial decision. " If the
Bull were a legal opinion, it would be justly described as
learned," was the editorial conclusion of one great daily. The
religious press (representing other denominations than the
Anglican) has treated it in much the same way, acknowledg-
ing that, starting with the premise of a sacrificing priesthood
established by Christ and following Catholic doctrine and pre-
cedent, no other decision could logically be reached.

HOW ANGLICANS HAVE RECEIVED THE BULL.

But the Anglican reception of the Bull has been of a some-
what different sort. After the assertion constantly repeated
with insistent emphasis that the Pope's decision is of no con-
sequence whatsoever, Anglicans being absolutely certain .of the
genuineness of their orders, there is the rather paradoxical
result of an increasing flood of newspaper articles, pamphlets,
and books intended to refute what His Holiness has said. One
Anglican writer seems to look upon all this as only a begin-
ning, predicting that " henceforth, as long as the world lasts,
the Pope's Bull has made it inevitable that every school, col-
lege, seminary, class, and pulpit in the Anglican communion will
be mainly engaged in polemical strife with Rome." To this
another Anglican very justly replies, that if such be the case,
" Anglicanism, as a spiritual force," will surely enter upon a
decline, " for no Christian body can thrive which cultivates
such a spirit as its chief characteristic."

ANGRY ABUSE OF THE POPE.

Besides their voluminousness these Anglican retorts have

1897-] ANGLICAN ANSWERS TO THE POPE' s BULL. 687

two other notable characteristics. The first is a little surpris-
ing. That there should be some disappointment and even
some irritation on the part of those whose title is called in
question or denied, cannot be considered unnatural. But the
anger, the bitterness, in some cases the violent though trivial
spitefulness-, with which Anglican writers have assailed not only
Cardinal Vaughan and the Roman Curia, but even the Holy
Father himself, are truly remarkable. It is like the furious
petulance of a disappointed child and very far removed from
that calmness of temper which marks certainty in the posses-
sion of truth. Nothing, indeed, could more clearly reveal a
certain inner consciousness (in spite of the vehement and no
doubt honest protestations to the contrary) that their case has,
after all, much inherent weakness, and that they did long for
Rome to put their doubts to rest by setting her hall-mark
her stamp of genuineness upon their orders, than the abuse
which they now heap upon the Pope, who is accused of bad
faith, insincerity, deliberate falsification, and a variety of un-
worthy motives. And this even by those who were most
anxious for a decision and who could not say enough (while
they expected a favorable verdict) of Leo's learning, holiness,
impartial love of truth, and true zeal for the reunion of Chris-
tendom ! Even their French allies are not spared ; those clerics
who were inclined to look favorably upon the Anglican claim
to valid orders, but all of whom have now, like good Catho-
lics, accepted the Pope's judgment loyally, and who in conse-
quence are branded by their English Ritualistic friends as

"traitors."

CONFLICTING OPINIONS.

The second characteristic was, of course, to be expected ;
the Anglican replies to the Bull are not only varied but con-
flicting many of them absolutely contradictory of one an-
other. A certain High-Church paper, for instance, rejoices in
the proof which this inquiry gives that the question of Angli-
can orders has been an open one in the Roman Church. Lord
Halifax, on the other hand, complains that the Bull clearly
proves the matter to have been settled by the precedent of
the Gordon case, examined in Rome in 1704, and that the ques-
tion was not considered an open one in the present inquiry.

An editorial in an ultra-High-Church paper the Catholic
Champion states the true and Anglican position to be this : the
See of Peter has a supremacy jure ecclesiastico only, and not
jure divino not by divine right. In the very same issue of
this paper is an essay published by the " Clerical Union," a

688 ANGLICAN ANSWERS TO THE POPE'S BULL. [Feb.,

society of High-Church clergymen, in which occurs the follow-
ing paragraph : " The first point, then, of the Catholic counter-
Reformation " (the Anglican High-Church movement), " first, that
is, in importance if not in realization, is to win our way back
into the unity of Western Christendom and to set the English
Primate once more in his proudest place the right hand of
the Throne of Peter, to whom belongs, jure divino, the Primacy
of all."

As to the grace of orders, we have Lord Halifax and his
friends asserting their confidence that they possess, Pope Leo
to the contrary or not, true priests who offer sacrifice, and then
we find the Anglican Bishop of Liverpool at his recent diocesan
conference speaking thus : " But our conception of a Christian
minister's office is very different from that of the Pope. On
the one side the clergyman of the Roman Church is a real
priest, whose great business it is to offer the sacrifice of the
Mass. On the other, the clergyman of the Anglican Church is
not a priest at all, though called one, and only a presbyter,
whose chief business is not to offer a material sacrifice but to
preach the Word of God and administer the sacraments."
Anglicanism, in truth, is so hydra-headed that it would be im-
possible to answer at once all the Pope's critics, any more than
one could talk to a number of different persons on different
subjects at the same moment and in the same words. One is
obliged to select some one particular voice at a time from the
babel of contradictory heresies and show what is the Catholic
answer to it. If the Pope needed any justification for his de-
cision he could find it in these Anglican utterances episcopal
or otherwise which have been drawn forth by this Bull. With
scarcely a single exception these writers, whether High-Church
or Low, show how utterly they are at variance with the Catho-
lic Church as regards the grace of orders and the sacerdotal

character.

DR. FULTON AND THE POPE.

What is apparently considered by Anglicans the strongest
statement of their case which has been put forth on this side
of the water is an essay by the Rev. John Fulton, D.D.,
LL.D., who is spoken of as a learned canonist. It first ap-
peared in his own paper, the Church Standard, but has now
been reprinted in pamphlet form, and is commended on all sides
as likely to be extremely useful in reassuring any Anglicans
who may have been disturbed by the Papal Bull. For those
Anglicans, if such there be, who are simply determined in any
cise to remain Anglicans and who welcome everything which

1 897.] ANGLICAN ANSWERS TO THE POPE'S BULL. 689

seems to make telling points against Rome, this essay will
doubtless be satisfactory enough. But in the case of those who
endeavor to make an impartial study of both sides, determined
to learn the truth, such methods of argument are more likely to
prove a boomerang to the Anglican camp. For, in the first
place, the ad hominem argument, charging one's opponent with
insincerity and unworthy motives, instead of attaining its pur-
pose by raising an antecedent prejudice in the reader's mind
against one's adversary, is quite as apt to hint the weakness of
the cause which needs such support.

Nor is the effort to make the Pope talk nonsense and con-
tradict himself likely to be successful with a fair-minded person
if the Pope has had mental acumen enough for the simple task
of drawing logical conclusions from his own premises. Again,
it will strike most readers that not even a learned canonist can
be exempt from one accepted canon in all fair controversy, viz.,
the duty of having a thorough acquaintance with the arguments
and literature of the other side and of ignoring no important
contention of one's opponents. But Dr. Fulton has simply
treated as if non-existent certain arguments on the Catholic
side which help one to understand the meaning of this Bull on
orders and arguments which Catholic writers hold to be most
important considerations. His essay may have been written
hastily *or he may be unacquainted with certain Catholic
authorities on the subject, but no presentation of the case can
be complete or fair which ignores them. This will be treated
of more fully when examining Dr. Fulton's argument in detail.

WHO ACKNOWLEDGE ANGLICAN ORDERS?

Before taking up Dr. Fulton's tract let us ask one question,
the answer to which will clear the ground of much accidental
matter and show clearly the real point at issue. Who admit
and who deny that Anglicans have true orders in the Catholic
sense? On the negative side must be placed, first of all, the
largest section of Christendom, the Catholic and Roman Church.
The Greek and Russian Churches have never yet admitted the
Anglican claims, and there is nothing to indicate that they ever
will do so. A few years ago the head of the Jansenist Church
in. Holland a schismatic body possessing true orders examined
the matter and pronounced the Anglican Church heretical and
its orders invalid. In short, no church which High-Anglicans
themselves believe to have genuine orders is willing to return
the compliment. Other Protestants and the world in general
are against the claim. Nay, within the Anglican communion

690 ANGLICAN ANSWERS TO THE POPE'S BULL. [Feb.,

itself a large proportion strenuously deny it. What has the
Pope said regarding the Anglican clergy? That they are not
sacrificing priests. Those who agree with that statement have
no controversy with the Pope, and the majority of Anglicans
certainly look upon their clergy as ministers of the gospel and
pastors, but not priests who offer a true sacrifice. On the one
side, then, the Pope and practically the whole world with him,
both Catholic and Protestant ; on the other, a minority of
Anglicans. On the latter certainly falls the burden of proof.
Securus judicat orbis terrarum. It is well to keep the issue
firmly in mind. Unless it is claimed that the Anglican clergy
are priests of the same sort and with the same powers which
Roman Catholic priests possess, there is no controversy.
This is the crucial question: Are they sacrificing priests?

DR. FULTON'S METHOD OF ARGUMENT.

Dr. Fulton divides his answer to the Pope into three parts,
each headed by a proposition which he endeavors to prove.
These will be duly considered. But he does not confine him-
self to the logical proving of propositions. He interweaves
with the whole two serious charges against the Pope which are
intended to give force to the more formal arguments and which

it will be well to look at first.

I. THE CHARGE OF INSINCERITY.

" And now," says Dr. Fulton, " we have the Pope's judg-
ment on that part of the argument against Anglican orders.
He does not render it in the frank terms of manly candor and
generosity." Again : " The belief which we expressed in the
beginning of this article, that the investigation of this subject
by the Roman Curia was * begun with an invincible predeter-
mination to render an adverse judgment without regard to fact
or truth,' is proved by the language of the Pope himself."
There is more of the same nature, but these quotations will
suffice. Is, then, Leo XIII. such an unscrupulous lover of
falsehood rather than of truth ? His life and acts have not
presented him to the world in that light. But the words of
the traducer are best answered out of the mouths of some of
his own brethren.

When the inquiry on Anglican orders was begun at Rome
Mr. Gladstone acknowledged the fairness with which it was
being conducted, praising what the Pope had done " in de-
termining and providing, by the infusion of capacity and im-
partiality into the investigating tribunal, that no instrument

1 897.] ANGLICAN ANSWERS TO THE POPE'S BULL. 691

should be overlooked, no guarantee omitted for the probable at-
tainment of the truth." Since the decision has been announced,
Bishop Potter of New York has been constrained to say of
it : "I confess I am moved, in view of the very considerable
temptation to make some other reply more ambiguous and
less explicit, to respect sincerely the courage and candor that
prompted it." The Bishop of Manchester in England, though
a strong anti-Roman controversialist, says : " No one can read
that document without perceiving the anxiety of its venerable
author to arrive at a true conclusion. ... I, for one, can-
not help liking the aged patriarch for his obvious honesty and
tender consideration." Many other Anglican protests against
the slander have appeared, one of the latest being from Dr.
Conybeare, the celebrated Biblical scholar.

IMPARTIAL NATURE OF THE INQUIRY.

The facts of the case are eloquent enough. The commission
on Anglican Orders was composed of some of the most cele-
brated theologians and students of history to be found in the
church. In order that both sides might be adequately repre-
sented, care was taken by the Holy Father to place upon the
commission several who were known to be favorably inclined
to the Anglican claims, and two Anglican clergymen, who went
to Rome for the purpose, were enabled to furnish their friends
on the commission with all the data possible in support of
their side of the case. The Holy Father left nothing undone
to facilitate the work of the commission, authorizing it to re-
open the case and examine it in every possible aspect. During
the six weeks that the commission sat no material point of the
controversy was left unconsidered. Then the matter, with all
its evidence, passed to the Cardinals of the Supreme Council,
who, after a month's deliberation, gave their unanimous verdict
to the Pope. The Holy Father, in due time, issued his final
judgment in the Bull Apostolicae Curae, summing up in these
words : " We pronounce and declare that ordinations carried out ac-
cording to the Anglican rite have been and are absolutely null and
utterly void." Dr. Fulton's charge of a predetermination to
ignore fact and truth collapses under the light of the plain
history of the case. His argument must be deprived of that prop.

II. THE POPE'S ALLEGED LACK OF REASONING POWERS.

Another charge upon which Dr. Fulton depends much in
proving his three points is a remarkable mental weakness which
he discovers in Leo XIII. and which [practically amounts to

692 ANGLICAN ANSWERS TO THE POPE'S BULL. [Feb.,

imbecility. For he alleges that the Pope, I. contradicts himself;
2. proves that his own orders are null ; and 3. stultifies himself
by professing certain doctrines of the Council of Trent and at
the same time repudiating them. Now, no person sets out to
make a spectacle of himself before the world by doing such
absurd things as these, and if the Pope is guilty of them the
only conclusion is that he is lacking in the ordinary reasoning
faculty which most human minds possess, And when one re-
flects that not the Pope alone but the two learned bodies who
helped him to formulate this decision are necessarily included
in the charge, one begins to scent a slight absurdity in the
notion and to wonder that so many distinguished theologians in
Rome should be unable to understand their own principles or
to express themselves without contradicting their own state-
ments, while these slips are so palpable that a Philadelphia
clergyman who has had no training in scientific Roman theolo-
gy can point them out at once. One is rather more inclined,
on the whole, to the alternative that if there is confusion of
reasoning it is on this side of the Atlantic, and that when Dr.
Fulton says, "What the Pope means is this, etc.," he is drop-
ping into that method of argument which consists in setting
up a caricature of your adversary and then falling upon the
ungainly, ill-jointed scarecrow and scattering his members
triumphantly. It is a method which may seem to secure an
easy victory, but a method far better left to the lower planes
of legal practice than allowed to invade that higher ground on
which religious controversy should stand. Dr. Fulton says :
" When the Pope contradicts himself in so wonderful a way,
we should like to know what becomes of his infallibility.'*
Again : " Having thus enunciated the true and Catholic doctrine
of the Council of Trent, the Pope calmly tells a listening
world that he does not and will not apply that doctrine to the
matter before him. ... In so doing Leo XIII. simply re-
pudiates the Council of Trent and himself incurs its anathema
as a formal heretic." (The italics are Dr. Fulton's.)

How successful this attempt has proved to make the Pope
say things he never meant to say and to declare himself a
heretic can be better judged of when the arguments of Dr.
Fulton's essay are examined in detail, as will be done in
other article.

1 897.]

COVENTRY PATMORE DEAD.

693

COVENTRY PATMORE DEAD.
I

'ANY years ago the name of Coventry Patmore
was on the lips of every American lover of
poetry ; to-day the news that he will write no
more awakes in more then one quarter the
query, " Who was Coventry Patmore?' In life
its object would have shrunk from answering the question. He
did not belong to the race of Barrack-room Ballad-makers, nor
did he fawn upon court favorites in the hope of gaining crumbs
from royalty's table. It is doubtful indeed if the Muses were
ever before wooed by so shy and shrinking 'a lover as Patmore ;
and yet it may be questioned whether any more truly spoke
their divine soul than he. It is true the wand of his song
blossomed only at rare intervals, and perhaps it would be
wrong to deplore this peculiarity, since the flowers it gave
always bore evidence most beautiful of the most assiduous and
tender nurture.

It is a score of years since Coventry Patmore demanded
any space in the pages of THE CATHOLIC WORLD, and it is
sad that we have to pen his name now only to chronicle his
death. He had reached the age of seventy-four when he was
summoned away, and as yet we are in ignorance whether death
found him still singing delightfully of the Lares of the house-
hold or whether he had been rendered voiceless by the chill of
the coming shadow, tn due time we shall know ; but this we
know as it is, that he had already done enough for fame and
to furnish the world of truth and discrimination with lasting
souvenirs of surpassing beauty. If the loss of one beloved of
the gods, as Keats or Chatterton, touches the heart, may we
not mourn still more justifiably over the passing of the singer
whom age had only visited to endow with a gift compact of
youth's glorious enthusiasm and the grave bitter-sweet of
maturity's experience ? The most exquisite of Patmore's lyrics
are those which he gave us when he had passed the frontier
line of middle life, and it is by these he will be chiefly known
to posterity.

Patmore's position among poets is now being much dis-
cussed. There is not much wisdom in the springing of such

694 COVENTRY PATMORE DEAD. [Feb.,

controversies. Comparing one poet with another, merely for
the sake of determining which shall have the higher rank,
smacks of a childish idea of criteria. There is no true analogy,
inasmuch as the universal note of humanity is mental diversity,
and the poet's expression must be the highest and widest
testimony of this eternal law.

The rugged Carlyle, who resembled the Boeotian George the
Second in his repugnance to poetry, yielded to the soothing
influence of this modern Orpheus. He always carried a volume
of Patmore, he said, as a pocket companion when he went on
a holiday. His antithesis, Ruskin, who loved poetry no less
than painting, thought his Sesame and Lilies and The Angel in
the House the expression of love at its highest. Tennyson,
who was a churl in matter of praise of any one in his own
pastures, characterized The Angel as a great poem. Into this
work Patmore threw himself heart and soul, for the home was
to him the most sacred temple of earth, next to the temple
of the Most High. But he had other themes which kindled
his loftier thoughts into flames of celestial hues. When he wrote
The Angel in the House he was outside the pale of the Catho-
lic Church ; the death of his wife and his reception into the
Catholic fold were events that touched his soul at once with a
new sanctity in sorrow and a hopeful fortitude. He had found
the Eros for which he had been all these years languishing,
and in the poem " Deliciae Sapientiae de Amore ' he gives
voice to his joy :

" The heavens themselves eternal are with fire

Of unapproach'd deske,

By the aching heart of Love, which cannot rest,

In blissfullest pathos so indeed possess'd.

O spousals high,

O doctrine blest,
Unutterable even in the happiest sigh !

This know ye all

Who can recall

With what a welling of indignant tears
Love's simpleness first hears
The meaning of his mortal covenant,

And from what pride comes down

To wear the crown
Of which 'twas very heaven to feel the want.

1897-] COVENTRY P ATM ORE DEAD. 695

Therefore gaze bold,
That so in you be joyful hopes increased

Through the Palace portals, and behold
The dainty and unsating Marriage-Feast.

Oh! hear

Them singing clear

' Cor meum and Caro mea ' round the * I Am,'
The Husband of the Heavens and the Lamb

Whom they for ever follow there that kept,

Or, losing, never slept
Till they reconquer'd had in mortal fight
The standard white.

Love makes the life to be

A fount perpetual of virginity ;
For, lo ! the Elect
Of generous Love, how named soe'er, affect

Nothing but God,
Or mediate or direct ;

Nothing but God,

The Husband of the Heavens,
And who Him love, in potence great or small,
Are, one and all,

Heirs of the Palace glad,

And only clad
With the bridal robes of ardor virginal."

The story of his wife's death, as told in The Angel in the
House, under the designation "The Departure," is exquisite
grief :

" It was not like your great and gracious ways !
Do you, that have naught other to lament,
Never, my love, repent
Of how, that July afternoon,
You went

With sudden unintelligible phrase,
And frightened eye,
Upon your journey of so many days,
Without a single kiss or a good-by ?
I knew indeed that you were parting soon ;
And so we sate, within the sun's low rays,
You whispering to me, for your voice was weak,
Your harrowing praise.

696 COVENTRY PATMORE DEAD. [Feb.

Well, it was well, my wife,

To hear you such things speak,

And see your love

Make of your eyes a growing gloom of life,

As a warm south wind sombres a March grove ;

And it was like your great and gracious ways

To turn your talk on daily things, my dear,

Lifting the luminous, pathetic lash

To let the laughter flash

Whilst I drew near,

Because you spoke so low that I could scarcely hear.

But all at once to leave me at the last,

More at the wonder than the loss aghast,

With huddled unintelligible .phrase

And frightened eye,

And go your journey of all days

With not one kiss or a good-by,

And the only loveless look the look with which you pass'd :

'Twas all unlike your great and gracious ways."

Patmore was a Conservative a Coriolanus sort of one at
that and gave vent to his scorn of the ignobile vulgus and
mechanical labor in many lines that would find small reverence
here. He had also, like Ruskin, a sort of horror of what is
called progress the sights and sounds of trade and traffic and
the abominations connected not infrequently with industrial cen-
tres which sickened the soul of Ruskin. None of these things
would he have come between the wind and his nobility. There
was a certain sort of pessimism, too, in his philosophy until
he became a convert ; then his spirit took on bolder pinions.
He occupies a niche of his own, singing the psalmody of the
domestic hearth and its beautiful affections mostly, but open-
ing glimpses of the higher estate of the spirit such as we rarely
glean from the work of any other master. But while he has
himself passed over, let us hope, to these brighter scenes, here
his work will endure, unless the baser taste of the world swamp
the better ; which God forbid !

IN the Introductio-n to a fresh volume of the
late Brother Azarias,* the esteemed editor, Bishop
Keane, happily crystallizes the much-discussed edu-
cation problem in the phrase "training of the young
in knowledge and in virtue." This is not the
view as yet of the secularists and the school of socialists who
believe that the state has the same power over the body and
the mind for they do not admit the existence of a soul as the
Mikado claims in his empire. Happily the trend of the world
is such that people in many countries are beginning to find the
disadvantage of omitting the latter clause of the proposition,
and that educated atheists are very undesirable factors in the
every-day problems of civilization. Brother Azarias in his own
person gave a living example of the benign influence of the
acceptance of the twofold view of the scope of education.
Teacher himself, he was being taught ; and while helping others
up the spiral stair of learning he was ascending daily into
higher planes of knowledge, illumined by the light of that lamp
of religion visible only to eyes which seek truth reverently and
without human pride. The % new volume is a sort of comple-
ment to its predecessor. It contains treatises on the Church
and the Aristotelian Philosophy, as well as philosophical dis-
quisitions on different aspects of the educational system, all
treated in that thoughtful and masterly method which charac-
terized his literary work from the outset. The last of the se-
ries is perhaps the most valuable from a presently practical
point of view. It is an ethical study of the Pope's Encyclical
on Labor, which may be commended to the careful study of
all who wish to be enlightened on the true attitude of the
church toward this all-absorbing question of the work-a-day
world, and the application of the Gospel of Christ to the rules
which govern the procurement of our daily bread. The princi-
ples laid down by our great Pontiff covei every possible field

* Essays Philosophical. By Brother Azarias. With Preface by the Right Rev. John J.
Keane, D.D. Chicago : D. H. McBride & Co.

698 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb.,

of labor, and cannot be known too widely or too soon by all
who have the interests of civilization at heart. Brother Aza-
rias' exposition of its principles will be found of invaluable
help by all students.

Freemasonry and its formularies have furnished the motive
of many romances, but none so wonderful as Mrs. Dahlgren's
new one entitled The Secret Directory* Chief figures in the
drama are Mazzini, Garibaldi, and others of the Carbonari chiefs,
besides an American admiral, who is inveigled into participation
in some of the blood-curdling and blasphemous rites which ac-
company the orgies of the secret crew. It is a wild kind of
story and contains enough tragedy to satisfy the most morbid
craving. Its style is vigorous and picturesque, but at times it
assumes the appearance of sensational journalistic statement
more than the artistic work of the weaver of historical romance.
Much of it savors strongly of the discussion over Diana^Vaughan
and the Luciferian worship, of which the reading world is grow-
ing somewhat bored.

The mysterious power called hypnotism is introduced unre-
servedly, for the purpose of giving us a glimpse of the Masonic
ritual, by means of a confession drawn from one of the frater-
nity while under the influence of one of the female characters.
The ease with which the victim gives up his secrets under this
compulsion demands a credulity on the part of the reader hardly
justified by any pseudo-scientific hypothesis.

In the final chapters we sup much too full of horrors, and
we are not surprised to find the American gentleman quitting
the cryptic miscreants in disgust and washing his hands free of
Italian Freemasonry. Mrs. Dahlgren, it should be added, dis-
plays a wonderful familiarity with the political events and per-
sonages of the day of which she writes ; but she has been hap-
pier in the selection of themes in her previous novels than in
this.

Portions of the book are admirable examples of literary
work ; others are didactic and unsympathetic. This is a feature
frequently inseparable from the novel constructed on historical
lines.

To many devout readers the appearance of a new work on
the Blessed Virgin will be welcome, as most of the lives hither-
to published have been either too bulky or too brief. This

* The Secret Directory ; A Romance of Hidden History. By Madeleine Vinton Dahlgren.
Philadelphia : H. L. Kilner & Co.

1897.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 699

volume, which is entitled The Life of Our Ladye* is in the
form of a golden mean between these extremes. It bears a
commendatory though judiciously reserved preface by his
Eminence Cardinal Vaughan ; and it gives by way of suitable
appendix the form of devotional practice to the Holy Vir-
gin instituted by the Blessed Grignon de Montfort. This
formulary has been stringently examined "by the Congregation
of Rites at Rome, and found to be theologically unobjectiona-
ble. Cardinal Vaughan, with regard to it, says that he does
not recommend that Catholics who have not grace to appre-
ciate the formulary should be coerced in any way with re-
gard to it ; but he commends to all who may have a scruple
on the" subject to study De Montfort's treatise on The True
Devotion to the Blessed Virgin.

Concerning the ^historical and traditional basis upon which
the story of Mary's life here given rests, Cardinal Vaughan
has to say that " Much of it is pure conjecture, pious tradi-
tion, and the result of devout and loving meditation." No
Catholic who knows his church's teaching on the subject of
tradition will attach more weight to this qualification than it
implies, for, as his eminence takes care to add immediately,
" the words of the Gospel are full of truth and grace, and they
form the foundation of this little work." We must not forget
that the early literature of the church is rich in matter relating
to the Mother of God, especially regarding the period subse-
quent to the Ascension of our Lord, and this literature has
never been seriously questioned. The portion of her hagiology
which has the daily life in Israel for background needs no
guarantee for authenticity as to general statement. We can
readily accept such help as those long-treasured traditions bring
us, and as they tend to lead us toward the study of the Jew-
ish system, ecclesiastical, civil, and domestic, in early days, we
shall derive much profit from its perusal. There are many
passages in the New Testament, especially in the Gospels, that
require for their intelligent study an intimate acquaintance with
the laws and customs of the chosen people. Sufficient light is
thrown on this subject for the profitable perusal of the work,
by the author of this biographical sketch and commentary.

Architecture may have a magnificent future before it in this
country, but as yet it has developed no distinctive character,

* The Life of Our Ladye, Scriptural, Traditional, and Topographical. Compiled from
approved sources by M. P. With Preface by his Eminence Cardinal Vaughan, Archbishop
of Westminster. London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubrfer & Co.; u New York: Benziger
Brothers.

700 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb.,

speaking generally. The appearance of a voluminous work* on
the subject, from the pen of that distinguished authority, Mr.
Russell Sturgis, the president of the Fine Arts Federation of
New York, and past president of several other associations for
the cultivation of architecture, affords proof that the interests
of art are not lost sight of in all the rush and bustle of a time
of rapid growth. Although nominally a study of European
architecture, the work carries the student, by a natural current,
beyond the confines of Europe, although the temptation to fol-
low the wanderings of the genius of building back to its im-
memorial source in the middle East and the mystic Egypt has
been resisted. Mr. Sturgis's work may be at once described
as a practical one, and its scope is professional rather than
aesthetic. Much care and labor have been expended in the aim
to make it a valuable work of practical study, both for archi-
tect and engineer. His own views on the subject of study in
this way are clearly stated. " It is better/' he says in his pre-
face, " to sit at home with a plan and twenty photographs,
with a sense of what their architecture truly means, than it is,
without that sense, to visit the cathedral itself, or all the cathe-
drals of France." If he means for professional purposes merely
he is doubtless right, but we prefer to dispense with the archi-
tectural instinct if such be its effect upon the ordinary artistic
mind.

We have yet to learn, it seems, what relations art bears to
region, period, or spiritual plane. There is nothing that marks
man's ascent from the natural state so decidedly as his progress
in this beautiful gift. It was the first form in which the innate
yearning of the soul for truth and beauty came to the councils
of his material needs. It does not need to be an architect to
feel to the full the solemn beauty of the great minster or the
majestic harmony of the temple whose colonnades and peristyle
seem to endow it with wings and crown to soar with the rapt
spirit to spheres where thought casts off the trammels of mat-
ter.

The views which certain minds entertain with regard to archi-
tecture, especially ecclesiastical, were pointedly illustrated by a
contributor to a New York weekly periodical which at one
time enjoyed a respectable literary reputation. The writer, in a
description of some excavations at the site of the ancient Car-
thage, complains of the landscape being disfigured by the

* European Architecture: A Historical Study. By Russell Sturgis, A.M., Ph.D.,
F.A.I. A. New York : The Macmidlan Co.

1 897-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 701

tasteless erections which French zeal has placed upon the sum-
mit of the citadel and the Bozrah. One of these structures is
the memorial chapel to St. Louis, placed there at the expense
of the French government. This the writer denounces as " car-
penter's Gothic." Another of them is the great cathedral which
the late Cardinal Lavigerie, Archbishop of Carthage, erected in
pursuance of his idea to make Carthage again the great eccle-
siastical centre of Northern Africa. We do not imagine that
the reputation, which the French have won in artistic affairs is
likely to suffer much from the school of pro-pagan archaeologists.
Returning to Mr. Sturgis's book, we cannot omit to note
the great number of excellent illustrations which he has given
in elucidation of his critical and technical description. Some
of these are singularly fine ; diagrams and sectional drawings
often explain the author's meaning mathematically. The photo-
graphs are not many, but those given are good. The letter-press of
the work is all that could be wished for so important a production.

The American Book Company continues to give us an ad-
mirable selection of reproductions of the past masters in litera-
ture, more for the use of teachers than for the class who fol-
low Charles Lamb's plan of falling back upon old books when-
ever they hear of the issue of any new ones.

Amongst the latest output is Racine's Iphigenia, Carlyle's
Essay on Robert Burns, and the Immensee of Theodore Storm.
(In the notes on Burns the editor displays his regard for his-
torical truth by classifying Sterne, Goldsmith, and Burke as Eng-
lishmen ! Geographical and ethnological distinctions are of no
consequence, apparently, in this literary personage's eyes.)
There is also a Handbook of Greek and Roman History, by
George Castegnier, B.S., B.L., which is not much more preten-
tious than a dictionary reference. This present edition of Im-
mensee is the thirtieth a fact which bears out the claim for
this German story that its author was the best writer of short
tales of his day, because the most tender and sympathetic. The
first edition appeared in 1852. There is something in this fact
for the searcher after the sensational and the abnormal in
literature to ponder over.

The Story of the Romans, also issued by the American Book
Company, is likely to be a popular work for the younger class
of historical readers. The author, H. A. Guerber, treats his
subject in an easy conversational way, and he dresses up all the
old myths, by means of this device, in a very attractive guise.
VOL. LXIV. 45

702 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb.,

There are some fine plates in the work in addition ; and this
method of fastening attention on historical studies is one that
can hardly be overrated in the case of the young.

Hoffmann Brothers Company, of Milwaukee, Wis., have just is-
sued a most useful pamphlet for the use of Catholic Missions
and private distribution. It is the story " A Secular Priest '
tells of A Wonderful Conversion and its Results. It is a strong
story of real life and a powerfully affecting one withal ; and
it points the moral of the mixed marriage evil in a most im-
pressive way. The pamphlet is issued at a trifling price, and
can be had of all the Catholic publishers.

We are gratified to find a new edition of Lady Lovat's
biographical sketch of Clare Vaughan* issued by the Cathedral
Library Society of New York. It is a story whose perusal
must prove of great efficacy in convincing halting minds of the
abiding power of faith and love in the church when men and
women can be found to sacrifice all for God and humanity in
the earnest and devoted way that Sister Mary Clare and so
many others are found doing. In his preface to the work Car-
dinal Manning declares his conviction that the life of Clare
Vaughan was truly Franciscan in its love of God. It was not
a long life, but it was more full of glorious sacrifices and beau-
tiful deeds of grace than many a one of patriarchal measure.
It is consolatory to think that while England is nominally a
Protestant country, she can boast of such fervent Catholicity as
the example of the Vaughan family shows. Seldom, indeed,
do we find one family giving six priests to the church, and all
its daughters to religion, as in this case. The style in which
Lady Lovat relates the story of this bright but brief career in
God's service is irresistibly winning. In the new edition is
given a fine half-tone portrait of Clare Vaughan in her home
days, as also views of the Vaughan mansion and other relevant
pictures. Some hitherto unpublished letters of hers are likewise
embodied in the volume, thereby much enhancing the value of
this edition above that of the original one.

An admirable little prayer-book for the use of all who de-
sire to know the meaning of the different portions of the cere-
monial of the Mass has just been published by Pakenham &
Bowling, of New York. It is not only handy in size but com-
pletely explanatory, and contains all the Gospels at Mass, as
well as prayers needful for all occasions of life. Many beautiful
plates, illustrative of the chief features of the Mass, help to an

*Clare Vaughan, By Lady Lovat. New York : Cathedral Library Association.

1 897.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 703

understanding of the text. It is the best prayer-book in point
of selection and production we have seen for a long while. The
compilers are A. E. Kenney and Elvira Quintero, and it bears
the archbishop's imprimatur.

We note with pleasure that the Messrs. Benziger have already
exhausted the first edition of The Round Table of Catholic
Writers, and have a second one ready. This is an indication
of a more hopeful state of things for Catholic literature than
many would have been ready to concede only a little while ago.
We would be inclined to think that still better results might
be looked for were a cheaper edition put on the market soon.

i. ARCHBISHOP IRELAND'S "CHURCH AND MODERN SOCIETY."*

Some profound reflections are awakened by the appearance
of a volume of essays and lectures by Archbishop Ireland.
Delivered or written on various occasions and places, in con-
nection with many different events, they represent the views of
one of our most active and clear-headed thinkers on questions
which lie at the root of modern life and progress. The title of
the volume fully covers its scope and motive : The Church
and Modern Society. The march of events everywhere has a
common trend. A solution of the troubles which threaten the
framework of our present order is the one demand of the age.
In the civil polity there is no universal panacea to be found :
it is only in the great spiritual power which is of divine plan-
tation that the sovereign remedy resides. How far the church
should advance to meet the army of seekers is a subject
which has created in the ranks of her own sons a wide diver-
sity of opinion. Both by precept and example Archbishop Ire-
land has asserted his belief in the principle of greater human ac-
tivity on the part of churchmen a practical determination of
the problem, that is to say, before the storm-clouds have had
time to concentrate their forces.

In all countries this vexed question is surrounded by a web
of difficulties, but in the United States the web becomes a
tangle. There is no analogy to the position here to be found
outside. A population cosmopolitan to a degree unknown, in
numerical proportions, in any other region of the globe, per-
chance, outside of Austria, is the first condition to be faced ;
a vast preponderance of non-Catholic sects, all more or less
animated by a spirit of unslumbering hostility to Catholi-

* The Church and Modern Society. By Most Rev. John Ireland, Archbishop of St.
Paul. Chicago and New York : D. H. McBride & Co.

704 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb.,

cism ; a public policy animated by the worthy purpose of
eliminating all nationalistic tendencies and welding all the in-
congruous elements into a homogeneous state. The neutrality
of the state regarding religious denominations is the one favorable
circumstance ; but one of enormous value, all drawbacks not-
withstanding. It has given the Catholic Church a free field
for the development of her enormous resources in intellect and
magnetic force, and the results of the opportunity thus afforded
have been so far wonderful beyond modern precedent. Un-
trammelled by connection with the state, the church here has
thriven in the twofold task of saving souls and educating men
in the ways of noble citizenship as it never throve elsewhere.
Archbishop Ireland has been a mighty force in this vast un-
dertaking. His ideas have been not always acceptable all round ;
his pace to many has been too swift ; his principles have been
challenged as impracticable and Utopian. But no one can deny
the boldness and the grandeur of his citizen ideals. They are
worthy of the Christian Knight fighting his way through the
valley of danger and temptations. The book in which they
are contained might in a sense be taken as a complete manual
of true citizenship in a great republic of the free. Whether
the reader goes the full length of the dicta laid down, or not,
it cannot be denied that the arguments presented are forcibly
supported and clothed in all the fine raiment of a brilliant in-
tellectual wardrobe. The rnost contentious of the archbishop's
propositions, as we all know, was that touching State schools
and Catholic education. He reproduces his discourse thereon,
delivered at St. Paul in 1890, before the general convention of
the National Education Association of the United States, but
in doing so he prefaces the paper by the observation that " It
is to be confessed that the day of union between the state
school and the parish school does not seem nigh. Public opin-
ion is not ready for any form of compromise, and public opinion
must be respected." Thus does he give practical example of that
good citizenship which his precepts inculcate ; but we may add
that the integrity of good citizenship cannot be weakened by a
patient and hopeful effort, on moderate lines, to create a better
condition of the public mind. This book deserves the most
thoughtful attention of every earnest thinker in America. We
shall return to this book later on in a more extended notice.

2. LOVE STRONGER THAN DEATH.*
There is no more interesting and attractive doctrine of the

* Love Stronger than Death. By Josephine Marie. Cathedral Library Association,
New York.

1 897.] NEW BOOKS. 705

church than the one comprehended in the article of the Creed,
<k I believe in the communion of saints." Among the numer-
ous questions that are presented at the non-Catholic mis-
sion there is none that is more in evidence than " What be-
comes of our dead ? ' " Can we commune with them ? ' and
the satisfaction of soul and consolation for bereaved hearts
that are found in the teaching that after death has done its
worst, when the bodies of our loved ones are being hurried
along the dismal road that leads to the tomb, their souls will
live for ever, and love stronger than death may penetrate the
veil and brittg to them refreshment and light.

In the dainty volume in hand the plain theology of the
doctrine has been garbed in a most beautiful way. All the
sweet and touching things that have been said by poet and
saint of the life beyond the grave seem to have been gathered
by the author as one would cull a bouquet of exquisite flowers,
plucking only those which are rarest and sweetest.

The Scripture texts, too, concerning this deep, mysterious
doctrine of life and death have been selected with the best
judgment and thought by the author in order to strengthen
and embellish her arguments concerning the doctrine of the
Communion of Saints.

The volume, bound in purest white, with its title arranged
with good artistic effect in violet and silver, will win its way
to many a bereaved heart, like a gleam of sunshine into a sick-
room ; and in this way is well calculated to do good mission-
ary work at a time when the heart is most susceptible to
the best religious influences.

NEW BOOKS.

BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York:

Explanation of the Our Father and Hail Mary. Adapted from the Ger-
man by Rev. Richard Brennan, S.T.D. Explanation of the Salve Retina.
By St. Alphonsus Liguori. Imitation of the Most Blessed Virgin. From
the French, by Mrs. A. R. Bennett-Gladstone.

MACMILLAN COMPANY, New York :

Sir Thomas Browne's Religio Medici and Urn-Burial.

SEALY, BRYERS & WALKER, Dublin :

Sermons and Lectures by the Rev. Michael B. Buckley. Edited by his sister,
Kate Buckley. With a Memoir by the Rev. Charles Davis.

WILLIAM H. YOUNG & COMPANY, New York :

The Chaplain's Sermons. By Rev. John Talbot Smith, LL.D.

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY, New York, Cincinnati, Chicago :

Elementary Meteorology, for High Schools and Colleges. By Frank Waldo,
Ph.D.

!* %

lit!!!

Till' largest claim which the Ucvcland admin
istration has made upon history is .1 treaty for ar-
bitration just concluded with Great Britain. This
instrument is peihaps tin- most important oneevn agreed toby
t\vo first-class powers. Its object is to obviate all appeal to
war, save in the last resort of national honor or national t;nai
dianship of territory, in future disputes between the two gov-
ernments. It excludes from its provisions, however, the un-
settled questions over the Ycmvuclan and Alaska boundaries;
but this is the full sum of its limitations in international con-
troversies. The effectuation of this treaty is regarded gen-
erally as a great forward step toward the desiderated t;oal of
universal peace, and the reference to the quiet tribunal of com-
mon-sense of questions for whose decision, under other circum-
stances, the murderous aid of war must, have been relied on.
But it is not yet clear that the treaty will be ratified by our
Senate.

One of those surprises which sometimes up-.et all political
calculations has been sprung in Ireland over the disclosures
and the Report relative to the Financial Relations Commission.
A universal outcry for redress has arisen, uniting in one voice
peer and peasant, Tory and Nationalist, Protestant churchman
and Catholic prelate. For the first time since the Union the
titled landholders have come upon the same platforms with
the popular representatives, and the alliance between the
Unionists of Ireland with those of England, if not absolutely
shattered, is in imminent danger. One good effect this most
welcome and unlooked-for rapfroclicmcnt may have. It may
sweep out of view the petty factionist leaders who have long
been paralyzing the right arm of Parliamentary agitation by
their disgraceful attacks upon old comrades-in-arms. \Vlien
the discussion on the Report comes on at Westminster a i;reat
change for the better may be confidently expected in the pros-
pects of long-suffering Ireland.

1 897-] EDITORIAL NOTES. 707

If the Holy Father, in effecting a change of rectorship at
the Catholic University, had desired merely to apply a practi-
cal test to the spirit of modern progress, he could not have
hit upon a happier method. When he has read the reports of
the extraordinary demonstration at Worcester, on the occasion
of the formal leave-taking of Dr. Conaty from flock and
friends, he must feel indeed that in this country, so often mis-
represented, progress is no mere empty word. Practically the
term friends, in Dr. Conaty's case, embraces the whole city of
Worcester. In that old place, representative of all the ancient
narrowness as well as all the potential greatness of the New
England character, great and little, gentle and simple, Protest-
ant and Catholic, all vied with each other in testifying to their
unbounded admiration of Dr. Conaty as priest, as scholar, as
friend and benefactor. Especially did the Protestant and pro-
fessional element place itself in evidence. It may fairly be
doubted whether a higher tribute of praise has ever been ten-
dered to any man, under such circumstances, than the words
of valediction addressed by Dr. G. Stanley Hall, of Clark Uni-
versity. And it was not merely as the individual the learned
professor spoke, but as the mouthpiece of enlightened Ameri-
canism, expressing his admiration for that church and its teach-
ing, its educational system, and its mission of civilization,
which Dr. Conaty represented ; and not less warm and affec-
tionate were Dr. Hall's references to Dr. Conaty's beloved
predecessor.

It is well to remember that this ovation was the spontane-
ous expression of New England devotion to a Catholic priest,
and that this Catholic priest won his way to the New England
heart because he entered the arena of public life and took a
bold stand for Temperance and good citizenship.

;o8

AUTHENTIC SKETCHES OF

[Feb.,

AUTHENTIC SKETCHES OF LIVING CATHOLIC

AUTHORS.

JAMES ANDREW JOSEPH MCKENNA was born at Charlotte-
town, Prince Edward Island, on the 1st of January, 1862. He
received his preliminary education in St. Patrick's School in
that city ; but, as his father died when he was yet a child, cir-
cumstances forced him to become a wage-earner before com-
pleting the course. In 1879 ^ e secured an appointment on the
clerical staff of the P. E. I. Railway. He resigned in 1883 to
continue at St. Dunstan's College, near Charlottetown, the
studies he had never altogeth-

er relinquished ;
compelled him
attendance at
pursued his stu-
vate tuition,
time that Mr.
gan writing for
h i s contribu-
found a place
columns of a
Early in Feb-
removed to the
tal to corre-
island journal,
intention of de-
to newspaper
after his ar-

J. A. J. MCKENNA,

Ottawa, Can.

but his health
to discontinue
college, and he
dies under pri-
It was at this
McKenna be-
the press, and
tions soon
in the leading
local weekly,
ruary, 1886, he
Canadian capi-
spond for an
and with the
voting himself
work. Shortly
rival, however,

he was employed by Sir John Thompson, the then Minister
of Justice, in the preparation of the Kiel papers for submission
to Parliament ; and when this work was finished he was offered
and accepted the post of second secretary to the then Premier
of Canada, Sir John Macdonald. When the late Hon. Thomas
White took charge of the Indian Department, in the fall of
1887, Mr. McKenna became his Secretary for Indian Affairs ;
and when Mr. White died some months later Mr. McKenna
was given an important position in the Indian Department,
which position he still holds.

Mr. McKenna thus exchanged an opening journalistic ca-

1 897.] LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS. 709

reer, made rosy by young hope, for the snug security afforded
by the civil service of his country ; and it is only in his leis-
ure hours that he employs his pen in literary work. He has
confined himself in the main to historical studies, biographical
sketches, short articles, and occasional reviews, which have ap-
peared sometimes over his own name and sometimes anony-
mously in local publications and in leading periodicals in this
country. The bulk of his longer essays have been written for
THE CATHOLIC WORLD. His " Sir John Thompson: A Study,"
which appeared in the March number (1895), is a good sample
of his style. A writer in the Ottawa University Magazine con-
sidered it " the fullest and most accurate estimate of the dead
premier ever written." Of its author the same writer said :
" The volume of his work is already considerable. It is well
done and gives promise of more and better. He has his own
way of regarding men and things. He has been, and he ever
will be, nobody's docile pupil. He has disciplined himself well
in thinking and observing, and his eye and ear are naturally
quick and true. . . . His style is clear and direct, being
merely the verbal reflex of a powerful and well-cultivated in-
tellect. Everywhere you will find good thought and earnest-
ness wrought closely into the fibre of his work, but not enough
of either to bar his way to a wide popularity."

Mr. McKenna would have more literary work to his credit
did he not take so active a part in philanthropic movements.
While yet in his teens he assisted in organizing the St. Vin-
cent de Paul Society in Prince Edward Island, and since com-
ing to Ottawa he has been closely identified with the manage-
ment of the St. Patrick's Asylum, a large charitable institution
controlled by a council elected by those who contribute to its
maintenance. He served as secretary for seven years, and the
other day, although the youngest member of the council, he
was unanimously elected president. He was one of the founders
and the second president of the Children's Aid Society of
Ottawa, an association in which clerical and lay representatives
of the different religious bodies join in the work of rescuing
ill-treated and neglected children ; and he recently declined re-
election to the presidency in order to be in a position to
devote more time to the affairs of the asylum and to the de-
velopment of the Columbian Club, a society lately formed in
St. Patrick's parish for young men, of which he is also
president.

Mr. McKenna is not one of those reformers who consider

AUTHENTIC SKETCHES OF

[Feb.,

that a broad philanthropy takes the place of religion. He has
always evinced a deep interest in the work of diffusing a
knowledge of Catholic teaching. A paper read by him, en-
titled "A Neglected Field," led to the formation of the Cath-
olic Truth Society in Ottawa, in the presidency of which he
followed the late Sir John Thompson. He attended the Con-
vention of the Apostolate of the Press in Columbus Hall, and
on the invitation of Father Elliott read a paper on "The
Outlook in Canada." He is a strong advocate of the use of
the public hall and the daily secular press for the diffusion of
religious truth.

Mr. McKenna married, in August, 1887, Mary Josephine
Ryan, an accomplished lady of Ottawa, and the union has
been blessed with four children.

LELIA HARDIN BUGG is a young writer who leaped at once

into fame and
five years she
four books, and
now in press,
has appeared at
vals attached
stories in our
Her first lit-
Correct Thing
has passed
editions, and
first novel, was
high praise and
icism both here
taking its place
the works of
appeal to the
Her article on

LELIA HARDIN BUGG,
Wichita, Kas.

popularity. In
has published
two more are
and her name
frequent inter-
to articles and
best magazines.
tie book, The
for Catholics,
through twelve
Orchids, her
received with
extended crit-
andin England,
at once among
fiction which
cultured taste.
Agnes Repplier

in a recent number of THE CATHOLIC WORLD brought to her
a charming letter of acknowledgment from the gifted essayist.

Lelia Hardin Bugg was born in the picturesque hamlet
of Ironton, Missouri, of aristocratic old Southern lineage, and
counts among her ancestors more than one brave soldier of the
Revolution.

Fortunately for this child of promise her early training was
entrusted to the Right Rev. Bishop Hennessy, then pastor of
Iron Mountain and Ironton, and to him and to her grandmother,

1 897.] LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS. 711

who was a convert, she owes her faith for all her relatives are
Protestant.

She was sent to the Ursuline Convent at Arcadia, Mo., where
she was graduated in her sixteenth year, and another year was
spent with the Ursulines in Dallas, Texas. Afterwards her
studies were continued in private, and under the wise supervision
of Bishop Hennessy she became acquainted with the best in
the world's literature.

Next to books Miss Bugg loves music, plays the piano and
harp, and is a discriminating critic.

She is much given to travel, and has seen the most interest-
ing places in the United States and Canada, and expects to go
abroad very soon.

Miss Bugg resides in the suburbs of Wichita, Kansas. Her
daily life is very simple ; the mornings are given up to writing
or study ; the afternoons and evenings to society, reading,
music, works of charity the duties and diversions which seem
to belong to a young woman's life.

Miss Bugg is much sought after by the social world, for
which her exceptional training, rare abilities, and brilliant con-
versational powers have admirably fitted her.

Her first story was written at the mature age of seven, and
was entrusted, without the formality of a postage-stamp, to the
United States mails. Considering this early bent, and her pre-
sent inclinations and achievements, it is safe to say that Lelia
Hardin Bugg will win her greatest fame as a novelist.

PAUL O'CONNOR, a story-writer of some merit, as well as
poet, was born in the city of Cincinnati, in 1848, of Irish parent-
age, being the fifth of seven children. He acquired the ground-
work of a common-school education, but was taken from his
studies before he had formed any comprehensive acquaintance
with English grammar. He was, however, awarded the prize
in a competitive examination in rudimentary knowledge by a
vote of his schoolmates.

He was put to work at an early age, and learned the wood-
carving trade, living as a boy through the stirring battle-scenes
of the war, which produced an epic impression upon his mind.
This accounts to some extent for his passion for war-stories, in
which he has achieved some distinction in the periodicals. His
ballad-poem, " The Lone Sentry of the Blue Ridge," set to
music by himself, and written partly on pieces of sand-paper in
a workshop, ranks very high among his compositions.

712

LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS.

[Feb.,

He had scarcely entered upon the life of a mechanic when
a desire for self-improvement asserted itself in him with such
power of intellectual exclusion as almost to make him forget

his trade. He
the bright ap-
absent -minded
Fondness for
been the pas-
hood ; a literary
hood's dream,
the fact that
letters could be
instruction, he
secure it ; and
some years of
while he toiled
day, he had se-
able knowledge
raneous litera-
equipped, he
the world of

PAUL O'CONNOR,
Covington, Ky.

was no longer
prentice, but an
muser.

reading had
sion of his boy-
life his boy-
Appreciating
a knowledge of
gained by self-
set to work to
at the end of
night study,
at his trade by
cured an envi-
of contempo-
ture. Thus

embarked in
letters.

He naturally drifted into secular writings through the influ-
ence of his reading, the romantic being congenial to his mood,
the inventive a necessity of his education, which forced him
to originality.

He is the author of a recent lyrical litany, " Hymn to the
Virgin," which is being sung in the Catholic churches and acade-
mies throughout the country a consummation of some singu-
larity in the life of a poet who knew little of academies.

1 897.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 713

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

THE Catholic Winter-School is announced for a second session at New Or-
leans, La., to begin March 4 and continue to March 20. In the difficult
task of securing the lecturers the Rev. Francis V. Nugent, C.M., has been as-
sisted by a committee representing very considerable experience in such matters.
Among those who have been already engaged are the Rev. M. A. Knapp, O.P.,
of St. Hyacinth, Can., who will lecture twice, once in English and once in
French. His subjects have not yet been made known.

The Rev. W. Power, S.J., whose lectures on ethics last year were so well re-
ceived, will deliver three lectures on Reason and Revelation.

The Rev. J. F. Mullany, LL.D., will deliver two lectures on Some of the
Phases of Modern Thought and the Church.

The Rev. M. S. Brennan, A.M., of St. Louis, who lectured on astronomy last
year, will deliver three lectures this year, his subjects being Solar Physics, Euro-
pean Travel, and Cyclones : Their Causes and Laws. He is specially qualified to
discuss the last-named subject, having made a study of cyclones, and having
been in the midst of that greatest of tornadoes which wrecked St. Louis a short
time ago.

Professor Brown Ayres, of Tulane University, will deliver two lectures on
Science.

Miss Helena Goessmann, of Amherst, Mass., will deliver four lectures on The
Historic Women of Shakspere, and among them she will treat of Joan La Pu-
celle, known as Joan of Arc, who figures in Shakspere's Henry VI. She will
deliver also one lecture on The Christian Woman in Society, Ethically and His-
torically Considered.

It is hoped to have lectures by the Rt. Rev. John Lancaster Spalding, D.D.,
Bishop of Peoria, 111., and Archbishop Ryan, of Philadelphia. Archbishop Jans-
sens will invite the Delegate, Monsignor Martinelli, and his attendance at the
Winter-School is eagerly looked for.

A course of lectures for teachers will be under the direction of Mrs. B. Ellen
Burke, of Malone, N. Y. The lectures will begin March 4, but the religious exer-
cises opening the school will take place on Sunday, February 28.

The railroad managers will extend the excursion tickets of visitors to the
Mardi Gras festivities, so as to enable the holders to remain in New Orleans for

the Winter-School.

* * *

The New York City Board of Estimate lately took up the request of the free
circulating libraries for money. The board was liberal with them. The sums
allowed the libraries for the year are as follows :

New York Free Circulating Library, . . . $50,000

Aguilar Library, ....... 20,000

Webster Library, 2,500

Cathedral Library, .... . . 3,5

Mechanics and Traders' Library, .... 15,000

University Settlement Library, 2,000

Washington Heights Library, .... 2,000

Riverside Library, 750

Maimondes Library, : 750

St. Agnes' Library, ....... 100

7 14 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Feb.,

Before the amounts were definitely agreed to there was much discussion.
Ex-Judge Henry Rowland spoke for the New York Free Circulating Library.
He asked that the library be allowed $68,000, or 10 cents a volume on the library's
circulation of 680,000 during the year ending July i. He said that the late elec-
tion and the experiences of the past had shown the educational value of the free
circulating libraries. Much work had been done during the year in connection
with the schools.

Mayor Strong said that he fully appreciated the work of the library. The
amount allowed it, $50,000, was $15,000 more than was allowed last year. The
Aguilar Library received $6,000 more than it did last year. Everett P. Wheeler
obtained for the Webster Library $500 more than it got last year. All library
allowances were increased.

The advantage of this plan is that the city finds a distinct public advantage
in securing the co-operation of private enterprise. It is founded on a principle
that is capable of large expansion in many ways. Not the least benefit thus se-
cured is the element of competition, which is the life of trade.

# # *

The rector of Holy Rosary Church, Rev. F. Wall, D.D., of New York City,
has arranged an interesting series of lectures for the members of the Rosary Read-
ing Circle. The first lecture of the course was given by Rev. Dr. John Talbot
Smith. His subject was The Novel, and How to Use it. Mr. Henry Austin
Adams delivered the December lecture, Cardinal Newman, in the parlors of the
Holy Rosary Lyceum club-house. The January lecture was by Rev. Dr. Smith,
History, and How to Read It. Mf . Adams's subject in February will be Cuba,
and Rev. Dr. Smith will speak of Poetry, and How to Enjoy It, as a subject for
the March lecture. In April Mr. Adams will lecture on The Play's the Thing,

and in May his subject will be A Modern Apostle, Frederick Ozanam.

# # *

In the Catholic Reading Circle Review, published at Youngstown, Ohio, Dr.
Thomas O'Hagan is conducting a very interesting study of American literature,
with reference to the ideas which have dominated American civilization. He
adopts the theory of Matthew Arnold, that literature should be taken as the expo-
nent of a nation's life. A general statement of his plan is given in these words :

We shall endeavor to keep in view from the very outset the great agencies
which determine the character of a literature, namely: Race, Environment,
Epoch, and Personality.

Hand-in-hand with the study of American literature should go a study of
American history, for these twain are sisters, and from the vantage-ground of
historical research does the literary scholar see with a clear and unerring eye.
Literature is the life of a people ; history its phenomena.

In the work before us it will he necessary to make a close historical study of
the two colonies of Virginia and Massachusetts, as these are what Lowell has
called them : " The two great distributing centres of the English race in America."

For the purpose of classifying the periods, we shall in the main deal with the
genesis and development of American literature under the following headings :
The First Colonial Period, The Second Colonial Period, The Revolutionary Period,
The First Creative Period, The Second Creative Period.

Again, the writers of these periods will naturally divide themselves into his-
torians, poets, and novelists. Each paper may be expected to suggest some mas-
ter-piece for close analysis and study, and this literary production can form the
main topic of discussion at a subsequent meeting of the Catholic Reading Circles.

In our estimate of American literature we must be on our guard against two

1897.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 715

unfortunate failings provincialism and colonialism. Provincialism is, as Bran-
der Matthews recently said, local pride unduly inflated. " It is the temper that is
ready to hail as a Swan of Avon any local gosling who has taught himself to
make an unnatural use of his own quills." Colonialism is an undue deference to-
wards foreign opinion and a too ready acceptance of foreign estimate upon our
own writers.

That our studies may be thorough we must go beyond the manuals of litera-
ture and touch with our minds the quickening life of each literary product in prose
or verse. Our standard should not be that of England or France or any one coun-
try, but rather the permanent, absolute standard of the whole world set up through
the ripening judgment of centuries.

Our own day has, without doubt, more interest for us than the twilight
of American life and letters, yet we must not forget that the rude lyrics and bal-
lads of colonial days reflect as truly American life and thought as the most pol-
ished epic or idyl of a Longfellow, a Stedman, or an Aldrich.

There should be no North, no South, no East, no West in our literary ap-
praisement. Provincialism is death to high ideals. Literature takes color and
form from its surroundings, but its standard is based upon the universal taste and
judgment of the people.

It is true that, devoid of the spiritual, an art-product is meaningless, yet
nothing so ill becomes a critic or a literary student as holding in his mind the
faith of an author while passing judgment upon his literary works. We hope to
do justice to every American writer of note, Catholic and non-Catholic, and shall
see to it that such illustrious names as Brownton, Shea, Ryan, and O'Reilly find a
place in our studies as builders and toilers in the great temple of American letters.

Let us, however, see to it that in our study and estimate of American litera-
ture we do not attempt to galvanize mediocrity into greatness, simply because an
author professes or has professed the Catholic faith. We Catholics should de-
mand entrance into the temple of American literature by a front door, not by any

side door.

* # *

The first of a course of lectures on The History of Our Own Times, given
by Mr. Henry Austin Adams at the Convent of the Sacred Heart, Philadelphia,
is thus described by Miss Sara Trainer Smith in the Catholic Standard : It was a
most interesting preparatory talk, clearly outlining the course, awakening and
increasing the interest with every sentence. Mr. Adams has been lecturing on
literature in the convent schools for two or three years, finding the pupils
well grounded and quite familiar with the makers of literature and their works,
he has also discovered that they need to be acquainted with the world for which
their education endeavors to prepare them. Together with the superiors, he has
arranged to give the pupils and their friends as fair a glance at that world as is
possible from the lecture platform. The lectures are six in number, and will
each occupy an hour or a little more in delivery.

The history of our own times has come to be considered that period which
embraces the reign of Queen Victoria, because her accession to the throne in 1837
-through no act or intention of hers marks the change which began to alter
every condition of life and which has carried us far away from the old order of
things. For several centuries, as Mr. Adams reminded us, there had been little
or no change in the manner of living of civilized nations. When Queen Victoria
came to the throne her people travelled as their great-grandfathers had travelled,
the rich were served as their forefathers had been, and the poor labored as the
poor had long labored, without hope and without help. The laws were harsh and

716 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Feb., 1897.

the punishments for crimes severe and relentless. In short, the intellectual life,
the industrial life, the social life, and, above all, the religious life of England and
America, of the Continent and of the whole world, has changed more or less
during the last sixty years as never before in centuries. This is our own time.
We belong to its growth ; we are part of it ; we are to help it in its advance or
hinder it and cripple its good works.

There are many of us to whom Mr. Adams will do a great favor in setting
before us so clearly and concisely the state of the world and our position in it.
As Catholic women we hold a most exalted and responsible position. We dare
not waste an hour, a thought, or an intention. We have much to do, and we
must prepare to do it. It is not to be done hastily or impulsively, nor in an un-
womanly manner. With all the loveliness and gentle strength of Catholic women
as the ages have shown them, we are to do the added tasks and bear the added
burdens of a widened life ; we are to make it a perfect sphere, rising higher,
going deeper, all embracing on every side, and yet dependent to its farthest
limit upon the centre from which it proceeds, upon the faith on which we must

build, and which is unchangeable and incorruptible.

* * *

The Rev. P. C. Yorke, chancellor of the Diocese of San Francisco, lectured
recently to a large audience in the Metropolitan Temple, San Francisco, on the
church's relation to labor and what she has done for the working-man. Accord-
ing to his computation there are 20,000,000 people in this country who live on
wages, three and a half million of whom are women. Whatever helps the wage-
earners helps the masses. The Catholic Church is the church of the people-
even of hod-carriers, if you will have it so ; the church of the great laboring
masses a church whose structure was built by the pennies of the poor. It is open
all day for even the humblest. There are no private interests in the way of the
priest, who has neither wife nor child. The poorest man may command him to
the sick-bed at midnight. This is all in keeping with the religion of Him that had
not where to lay his head. The Catholic Church went into Rome teaching the
dignity of man, setting its face like flint against all opposition to the just claims of
labor.

The old monks taught the people how to work, how to farm ; and the great
cities grew up around the monasteries where it was taught. " To work is to
pray." Remember, too, that the church established the great guilds and work-
ing-men's societies. In the middle ages the rich were not able to grind the faces
of the poor because of the protecting influence of the church.

Coming to the present, the speaker said that Pope Leo's recent encyclical
called attention to the fact that there can be no permanent settlement of the dif-
ferences between capital and labor until the Golden Rule is applied to all. Against
the law of supply and demand Christianity offers the benign Golden Rule. Some
care not whether the poor get work or not, so they can get rich. If a man makes
a contract to pay his laborer less than a living wage, the contract is void by nature's
law. The employer who forces down wages, depending for his success on men's
necessities, commits a crime. It does not satisfy justice that the employer forces
the poor wretch he hires to a minimum just because the poor worker is strug-
gling between the devil and the deep sea. .Every cent earned in this way is a sin
that cries to God for vengeance.

The speaker deprecated the practice of many girls who work for low wages
to make "pin money," thereby forcing poor men and women in need to work for
almost nothing. He read the Pope's denunciation of the excessive demands upon
working children, held that all children ought to be educated, and pleaded to have
for every working-man a day free from toil. In conclusion he said that the
American Protective Association was a thing instituted by capital to divide labor,
and, by preventing strikes, reduce laborers to the condition of serfs. M. C. M.

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THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXIV.

MARCH, 1897.

No. 384.

ASH WEDNESDAY.

BY WILLIAM L. MOORE.

OLL ! mournful bell, from the

abbey tower :

Ring out to the gloomy sky !
Tell to the cold gray earth the power
Of Death, and that all must die !
For all men die, and die they must ;
Remember, man, thou art but dust !

Tell to the king in his gilded hall,

Tell to the beggar at the gate,
From the slime of the earth they are

fashioned all ;
To return to earth is their common

fate ! ,

For kings have died, and beggars

must ;
Remember, man, thou art but dust !

Tell to the babe in the dawn of life,

Tell to the old man bowed with years,
That death is the end of earthly strife,
The end of earthly hopes and fears !

For the youthful die, and the aged must ;
Remember, man, thou art but dust !

Tell to the sinner scarlet stained;
Tell to the just the pure of heart,

7 i8

ASH WEDNESDAY. [Mar.,.

That life for each a grave has gained !
Only beyond the grave they part.
For sinners die, as die the just ;
Remember, man, thou art but dust!

Then ring, O bell, in the abbey tower ;

But tell them Who moulded this house of clay !
Tell of the " living soul," and its power
To leave its prison, and live for aye !

For souls die not, though bodies must ;
Remember, man, thou art but dust !

Tell them to render to dust its own,

But the soul to God from whom it came !
Till the Angel's trumpet at last is blown,
And the body glorified lives again!

To life through death so die we must ;
Remember, man, thou art but dust !

i897-] PUBLIC OPINION AND IMPROVED HOUSING. 719

PUBLIC OPINION AND IMPROVED HOUSING.

BY GEORGE McDERMOT, C.S.P.

N the last issue of this magazine I made some ob-
servations concerning the connection between the
dwellings and the morals of the poor; and sug-
gested that public opinion might be advanta-
geously stirred upon the question. " Let alone '
has ceased to be the motto even of the school of political
economy which was known by that title, and to whose doctrines
it is hardly an exaggeration to say must be attributed the whole
or almost the whole of the cruel blundering which so fearfully
blighted the lives of three generations of the industrial classes
from the last quarter of the eighteenth century to the period
that began in 1870. Those who have taken up the study of
social science within the last few years as a mere exercise know
nothing of the appalling evils which beset the lives of working-men.
In an article in this magazine some time ago it was, at least, im-
plied that England was saved from revolution by the interest
which the leisured classes took in the concerns of the workers.
The views of the Social Science Congress of each year became
matter of legislation in the succeeding one perhaps not always
to the extent which the philanthropist hoped for, but to some
extent ; and even in such halting legislation there was evidence
of the influence of high-class sympathy with low-class needs.

HIGH REASONS FOR AMELIORATIVE ACTION.

Those men and women who desire to bring about a better
tenement-house system in New York have the example of their
own class 'in England as an encouragement and guide for their
efforts. They have the same interest, even apart from philan-
thropy, that the better classes in England had in this as well
as in all phases of the improved life of the working people.
On the content of these the security of the higher orders de-
pends the security of the whole country in fact. It is well worth
exertion and sacrifice to charm away the spectres of unrest and
anarchy. No one who has examined the condition of the work-
ing classes, in this and other cities, but would be prepared for

720 PUBLIC OPINION AND IMPROVED HOUSING. [Mar.,

wild ideas among many of them ; no one who has felt the
pulse and looked into the eyes of the whole body of toilers,
but will say that there is discontent over the whole range of
the working classes ; so that the wild ideas of the more reckless
have a sort of support in the passive sympathy of the most
moderate. The wealthy people, then, would act sagaciously in
their own interest, wisely for the state, well for all interests in
time and eternity, if they engage themselves with energy in the
work of the amelioration of industrial life. Now, one aspect of
this is the character of the abodes of workers ; and this is directly
in their path owing to the labors of the Tenement-House Com-
mittee of 1894, which have attracted a very natural interest to
the subject among all who have some sense of the responsibility
annexed to honorable life.

But an academical horror of infectious disease, of vice, of
crime, of maimed lives and wretched deaths, is nothing, or very
little. People who are very hard, and cruel for that matter, are
often able to charm one by the sweetness and softness of their
sentiments. In the salons of the eighteenth century the ideas
which took shape in the French Revolution were elegantly ex-
pressed by men of fashion while they exchanged snuff-boxes.
The great noble who lisped with approval those doctrines of
the Social Contract which would not leave him a shred of title
to the chateau and domains that had come to him through
crusaders, soldiers, statesmen, ground his peasants to the very
earth, fleeced them of hide and hair by his exactions. What
is needed is effort, not theory. The better class of citizens of
New York is required to take an active part in promoting and
sustaining public opinion in an agitation to improve the condi-
tion of the poor generally within reasonable limits, but especially
in securing for them those things of utility, convenience, and
comfort which belong to civilized life.

THE SOPHISTRIES OF SELFISHNESS.

There is hardly a question that bills to regulate the con-
struction of tenement-houses will be opposed in the State
legislature by owners of sites ; that measures to make more
stringent the enactments affecting tenement-houses and lodg-
ing-houses will be opposed by landlords ; that the influence
of speculators not included in these two categories will be cast
in the same scale ; and behind this interested opposition the
sentiment will be invoked that such restrictions upon property,
interference with private rights, and discouragement to enter-

1897.] PUBLIC OPINION AND IMPROVED HOUSING. 721

prise, as must result from the adoption of the measures sub-
mitted here are un-American. Of course they are not un-Ameri-
can, no more than to restrain a man from wantonly setting fire
to his house in a crowded street in the heart of a city would
be un-American.

THE " FREEDOM-OF-CONTRACT " BOGEY.

It must be borne in mind that the proposal submitted is al-
ready implied in the principles of city government even now in
force. In the last article reference was made to the case of
the Health Department of the city versus the Rector and others
of Trinity Church. Prima facie the acts imposing a penalty on
a landlord who did not afford his tenants a sufficient supply
of water on each story of the building were an elaborate in-
terference with freedom of contract. The Consolidation Act,
on which the action was brought, had, in sections previous to
that regulating the supply of water, provided for the proper
construction and ventilation of tenement-houses. At first sight
these sections would seem to be an unwarrantable interference
with the rights of owners of property. If the owner of a site
chooses to run up a rookery in defiance of every law of hygi-
ene, and fills it with the human vermin that have no choice but
to take his rooms, there is nothing in the law of landlord and
tenant to prevent him. If an employer can obtain work-people
at starvation wages or at wages that are the barest pretence of
payment, the law of hiring has nothing to say to the matter ex-
cept to enforce the contract.

THE PUBLIC RIGHT OF SELF-DEFENCE.

But into the law of landlord and tenant in the first case
are imported enactments of police which so modify the ordi-
nary contract of tenancy as to aim at preserving the health of
the tenant, and the public health as far as it can be done.
It was not nominated in the bond when the landlords " of
the veritable slaughter-houses ' drew great rents ; or when
the slum-landlords, because of the mine of wealth contained in
the houses of pestilence which they let, arranged everything
under conditions of contract which produced a harvest of death
and caused seeds of weakness to be transmitted to future gener-
ations, let those dwelling-places which poisoned life so that what-
ever idea of right or decency or purity might have once exist-
ed was blotted out it was not nominated in the bond in those
days of freedom of contract, the days of laissez faire political

722 PUBLIC OPINION AND IMPROVED HOUSING. [Mar.,

economy, but it is nominated now by police regulations which
to some extent embody the right of the municipality to be
protected against preventable disease, immorality, and crime.
This, no doubt, is an invasion of private rights : so thought
hosts of proprietors who, in the teeth of police regulations,
packed creatures into every space, refused them air and water,
and endangered the health of every citizen ; so thought land-
lords before there was any pretence of sanitary supervision at
all ; until one wonders how it was that New York escaped such
a visitation as those plagues that time after time depopulated
the cities of Europe and Asia. This immunity from disease
cannot last for ever. It is due to two circumstances in great
measure : the situation of the city and its growth. I need say
nothing of the drainage facilities New York enjoys, nor of the
pure air from the great rivers which would be a health-preserv-
ing agency of incalculable value in the worst sanitary system ;
but I may call attention to the soil from which as yet no fatal
organisms rise to cloud the atmosphere, or in which no such
organisms have made their rest to an extent that may not be
coped with. The soil of European and of Eastern cities is
made up in part, moulded in part, and crusted over in toto,
from the refuse of the countless generations that lived in them
and the clay of the same that was buried in them.

DUTY OF AN ENLIGHTENED LANDLORDISM.

As I have just said, an allusion was made in the February
number of this magazine to the case of the Trustees of
Trinity Church. It was made in no unfair spirit, but I think
that these persons, while in that instance they may have con-
scientiously discharged their duties as legal owners of trust
property, are still not absolved from the duty of joining their
fellow-citizens in an agitation for general improvement. It is
not an uncommon thing to find landed proprietors in the
United Kingdom who as trustees of estates under settlement
put such pressure on the limited owner as may compel him
to act in a harsh or illiberal manner to his tenants, yet the
same persons when dealing with their own tenants evince an
equitable spirit. Taking such a course as has been suggested
would mark the distinction between the trustees of Trinity
Church and the slum-landlords whose rapacity led to results
which could only be adequately dealt with by a law that would
visit on them the extreme effects that followed a conviction
of felony in old times. Nor wpuld this be a turning back to

i 897.] PUBLIC OPINION AND IMPROVED HOUSING. 723

principles of a comparatively undeveloped condition of society.
The safety of the public is superior to private rights and in-
terests of all kinds ; and the fact that this principle was realized
in earlier times does not prove that its adoption would be a sign
of retrogression. The principle may have been unjustly applied,
it may have been used as an instrument of arbitrary power in
former times it was so enforced by the Star Chamber but there
need be no fear of such a misapplication now. The most ad-
vanced asserter of the authority of individual right, Mr. Her-
bert Spencer, is polite enough to concede that one ought not
to exercise his private rights to the injury of others. No doubt
he bases the restriction on the experience that one will not be
permitted so to exercise his private rights; but the admission
implies that as a matter of police a house from which infectious
disease menaces the health of the population should be abated
as a public nuisance.

PROPITIATION OF THE OPPOSITION A USEFUL PLAN.

The solution of the problem of better housing for the poor
resolves itself considerably into a question of compensation for
the taking of private property. I think the subject of ex-
pense to the public is one of a very secondary character. It
seems no doubt that the cost of improvement schemes in
England has added largely to the rates, and some dissatisfaction
has arisen in consequence. This was to be expected. In every
place there are persons who object to benefits of any kind for
the public because of the additional burden on property.
Public education had its opponents in English urban and rural
districts, so had industrial schools, so had improved water
works for supplying corporate and non-corporate towns. I am,
I think, in a position to say that in parts of the United King-
dom resistance to useful reforms and to schemes for promoting
material prosperity was bought off, as it were, by conferring a
large part of the administration of the particular matter to the
most active opponents. It will, I think, hardly be believed
that some old municipalities in the United Kingdom were slow
to avail themselves of the act which enabled corporations and
boards of towns commissioners to establish public libraries.
Nothing but a public opinion which flooded these antediluvian
bodies with new blood would have prevented that excellent en-
actment from being a dead-letter, so far as some towns were
concerned.

724 PUBLIC OPINION AND IMPROVED HOUSING. [Mar. r

THE CLASS OF INVETERATE OBSTRUCTIONISTS.

The opposition of the selfish, ignorant, or prejudiced may
be put aside. There are some to whom advantages conferred on
the lower orders of society are a source of malignant bitterness
in comparison with which any real evil they might experience
would be of a trifling character. These are the people who
find in education for the poor, fair wages, wholesome food,
good clothes, a little time for reasonable recreation, a subver-
sion of society. " It is meat ! ' said Bumble when Oliver Twist
struck down the cowardly bully that had outraged him. It is
the same with those persons who were workmen themselves, or
the sons of workmen, but who look upon the workman as a
machine to be used and thrown aside when he loses strength,
those persons whose humanity is expressed in a contribution to
some charitable institution, or some platitude over the walnuts
and the wine at a club dinner. Their opposition, no more than
that of the selfish or ignorant owner of property, which he dreads
may be affected by the improvements called for by all who are
wise, just, and humane in this city and state their opposition no
more than that of the others need be taken into account. If
such alarmists or such vampires of society had their way, not a
single one of the great forces to which they owe their wealth
would have been started, or at least reached their present
development. These are men of the kind who opposed the
introduction of railways, the employment of steam in ships ;
who did what they could to prevent the horrible old oil-lamps,,
which only made darkness visible in the streets, from being re-
placed by gas ones, who surrounded the telegraphic system
with such difficulties that it is a marvel that mankind has yet
seen the transmission of its thought from one end of the world
to the other.

IMMENSE RESOURCES OF NEW YORK.

Concerning the expense which must attend improvement
schemes, as I have said, there cannot, at least there ought not
to be much difficulty. The taxation of New York is a bagatelle
in comparison with that of any municipality in the United
Kingdom or, more correctly, there is no comparison. In ad-
dition New York is advancing by leaps and bounds, with the
result that its taxable capacity is enlarging beyond the possible
growth of its burdens. The only difficulty is with regard to-

1897-] PUBLIC OPINION AND IMPROVED HOUSING. 725

the question 'of the powers to be conferred on the local au-
thority and the manner of controlling the exercise of them.

THE QUESTION OF LOCAL GOVERNMENT.

It has been suggested that all the legislative and adminis-
trative powers of the state government should be conferred
upon the local authority within the area of its jurisdiction. In
other words, that it should be for its own area a state within
the state. This is unquestionably the principle of the new sys-
tem of local government in Great Britain. Any difficulty in
construing the extent of the delegation would be obviated
by clauses conferring the powers : so that everything not in-
cluded was excluded from the contemplation of the legislature
in passing the act, and therefore retained to itself.

COMPULSORY IMPROVEMENT POWERS NEEDED.

In the recommendations of the Committee of 1894 we find
a proposal to adopt the system employed in England under
the acts for artisans and laborers' dwellings with regard to un-
sanitary buildings. These acts confer powers of destroying the
buildings on reasonable compensation. It does not seem that
any serious objection can be urged to the adoption of the
principles of these acts, though possibly something might be said
concerning the methods of inquiry into the amount of the
compensation. That is only a detail, however ; but it seems
clear that in the case of buildings of this class the idea must
be got rid of that they should be treated with the tenderness
shown in the case of other property taken under compulsory
powers. The moment it is proved that the buildings are
unsanitary there should be no presumption in favor of the
owner against the local authority. Whether this precaution is
necessary in this country or not, it certainly would have been
necessary in the United Kingdom under the earlier acts men-
tioned, and should be kept in mind in assessing the compensa-
tion under the latest. There was an idea that for compulsory
purchase at least ten per cent, should be added to the value
at one time it was laid down that it should be as high as
fifty per cent. while the value itself was measured by a scale
which would justly excite the envy of venders in ordinary cases.
Those buildings that are unsanitary, but not so bad as to be a
public nuisance, would come within the principle of compensa-
tion ; but they would come within it on technical rather than
equitable grounds. Consequently the amount of compensation

726 PUBLIC OPINION AND IMPROVED HOUSING. [Mar.,

should be estimated on a calculation of what the cost of putting
them in a sanitary condition would be. The difference or sur-
plus would be the amount payable to the owner. Similarly
where buildings were overcrowded, or were used for immoral
purposes, and yielding an increased rent in consequence of such
overcrowding or such purposes. The value in such cases should
be estimated on a rental for similar buildings in the same
part of the city let under the legal and normal conditions
as to the number and character of the tenants.

THE SPIRITUAL SIDE OF THE QUESTION.

A considerable part of this paper has proceeded upon the
line that improvements were especially to spring from the con-
sideration of the physical health of the population. There is
really a far more important question : that of the moral health.
Even if it could be proved to demonstration that what is now
happening in Bombay could not happen here, that there is in
the soil of New York a safeguard against all forms of zymotic
disease that great danger of civilized mankind still the
moral plague from overcrowding, from filth, from fetid air, from
darkness would remain to destroy the society that tolerated
such evils. It is of the very rudiments of the common sense
of mankind to say that surroundings have an effect in shaping
character. The earliest speculations in political science have
recognized the influence of natural features in determining the
quality, and therefore the destiny, of a people. It is as certain
that the dreadful environment of a New York tenement-house
in the bad parts of the city will put its mark upon the soul as
the mountains which stamped upon the Swiss hunter a love of
freedom, or the coast-line which entered into the Athenian's
spirit like a spell to make him foremost in enterprise and rich-'
est in all the gifts of the intellect and imagination. No one
can dispute it.

THE POST OF HONOR.

, \

To the priests of the church in a particular manner does the
duty belong to help and lead in the work of social ameliora-
tion. They represent the greatest influence in the world. No
one can over-estimate the knowledge of mankind, the sympathy
and moral power of the Church. No human organization has
ever possessed her experience 'or her instinctive wisdom, or her
fearlessness in enunciating truths of society for the benefit of
all, its weakest and its strongest. She was the protector of

1 897.] PUBLIC OPINION AND IMPROVED HOUSING. 727

the weak when lawless law was at its highest ; in championing
their cause she has received her severest wounds ; but she is as
strong to-day in emancipating negroes in Central Africa as when
she broke the feudal fetters of the serf or the iron code of
Roman slavery.

Bearing her spirit in their hearts, her priests must face this
problem of the hour. Even their opponents admit the hold
they have over the poorer members of their flocks. The sup-
pressed resentment with which the efforts of humane people
to relieve distress in England is received proves that there is
some want in the method of bestowing relief. The same applies
to instruction carried to the homes of the industrial classes. It
is hard to define the difference, but some sense of superiority is
carried about by those benevolent people, lay and clerical, with
the result that they do very little moral good, whatever ma-
terial benefit they confer; but the priest is so pervaded by
sympathy that for the time he is one with the pauper, the
drunkard, the sinner, the outcast. This opinion is not merely
mine. It was expressed by Mr. Hobson in the Contemporary
Review for November ; and he certainly is not in love with the
church or the priests.

But to the essential work of the priesthood I mean that
which may be in some way called its professional work the
wretched, spirit-killing, life-destroying surroundings of the poor
are an immeasurable obstacle. There are difficulties insepar-
able from the moral law and the manner of its adjustment to
the orders of society. Such surroundings suggest strange
problems concerning the justice of God, the distribution of his
gifts, as well in quantity as in the character of the recipients.
How can a priest preach sobriety to a man whose frame is on
the rack from the action of an atmosphere affecting the nerves
in a more pernicious degree than overwork or b'ad diet could
affect them ? how preach patience in the sight of a wife dehu-
manized by her life ? how preach it in the presence of children
whose existence instead of being a blessing seems laden with
the curse of a future of calamity and crime ? Impossible ! or
at least it is preaching to the tempest or to the lightning.

Now, as I have said, to the priest, who is bound to recog-
nize Christ's holy law, that the blessings of life are the right
of all His brethren, that with Him there is no privileged class,
that His is a kingdom of universal brotherhood, and that this
Church of His is the great social fact on earth ; to the priest
the duty is plain that he cannot withhold himself from any

728 PUBLIC OPINION AND IMPROVED HOUSING. [Mar.,

work which tends to the advantage of the race, and particularly
that part of it which the Lord Christ loved with an especial
love.

Nor is this suggested in the way of advice. I know the
difficulties which surround the lives of men spent among that
part of the population which is not endowed with the gifts of
fortune. I understand the claims of the people on the lives of
the priesthood. No moment of a priest's life is his own ; his
sleep is liable to be broken at any hour of the night by a call
to the bedside of the sick or dying, and the day has its full
measure of duties too. Amateur benevolence is a very good
thing, but it may be very little more than an officious recre-
ation ; while the time given by the priest to any work of social
amelioration is taken from a life ruled by the most exacting
calls. Yet, while understanding this, I humbly point out how
important to their strict duty must be the aid to be derived
from material comfort and improved physical conditions among
the poor. In entering heartily into the work of social amelio-
ration generally, and into this particular instance of it, they
must acquire an influence on men of all degrees of life outside
the church which, please God, will prepare for the time when
one thought and one interest shall unite the whole American
people.

1897-] MOTHER AND SON. 729

MOTHER AND SON.

BY LELIA HARDIN BUGG.

HERE were two objects for which Mrs. Landrey
would at any time have laid down her life : her
church and her only son.

Vincent Landrey was an idol from the mo-
ment he uttered his first little cry in the world,
waiting with its choicest treasures for his coming. His father
spent hours bending over the baby-form in the nursery, dream-
ing all the proud dreams an ancient house weaves around the
first-born; his mother clasped him to her bosom, thanked God
for him, and acknowledged that she had never known perfect
happiness until then. And the day on which the baby was
christened when the names that had been selected months in
advance were bestowed with all the solemnity of the church-
was kept as a sort of festival in the great family, even down
to the poorest second-cousin.

" Vincent Charles Lannau," the names of his father, mater-
nal grandfather, and great-grandfather, received in religion and
in law, were changed at home for the rather indefinite terms
of " baby," " darling," and " cherub." There were various other
distinguished ancestors, and many prominent collateral kinsmen,
living and dead, who might come in for consideration on a
future occasion, but who could have no place in the naming
of the heir-apparent.

The baby thrived and grew strong, and early manifested
the family traits to his mother long before a mere outsider
could have seen in him anything but an infant with a rosebud
mouth, an indistinct nose, and no hair to speak of, with very
well developed lungs. The cherub never cried ; but he screamed
on the slightest provocation, or on no provocation at all, ac-
cording to the private conviction of the nurse.

His mother kept him in blue and white, the colors of the
Blessed Virgin, until he was old enough to be put into knicker-
bockers, and she taught him his prayers herself, first in Eng-
lish and then in French, for the primeval American Landrey
had come to the United States from France by way of Cana-
da, and Mrs. Landrey had been a Lannau, a family sprung

730 MOTHER AND SON. [Mar.,

from the same fair land. In her unspoken thoughts Mrs.
Landrey separated the inhabitants of the world into two
classes, those who were of French extraction, and those who
were not. The boy had private tutors, later on was sent to
the best schools, and when old enough he was taken on annual
vacations to Europe. When he was nineteen his father died,
and Vincent started with his mother and young sister for Japan
and the far East, a journey undertaken at the urgent sugges-
tion of friends as a diversion for their grief. And Mrs. Lan-
drey's grief was deep and lasting. She had loved her husband
with a singular and unselfish, even if an exacting love, and she
had loved no other man, for she had been married at twenty,
and had passed almost from the school-room to the altar. But
she knew in her heart that her grief for her husband was as
nothing to the agony that would have maddened her for her
son.

After completing his college course Vincent was sent abroad
for two more years of study at a foreign university, and an>
other year was given to travel, so that he was a man of twenty-
five when he finally returned to St. Louis to take his place as
the head of the Landreys in the world of business and of
society. That place was one to be proud of : an inheritance of
eight millions of dollars, coupled with an honorable family
name, was something to make the worldly envious and the
thoughtful sober. All this money belonged to Vincent except
some two millions of dollars willed to his only sister Hortense,
and a life annuity to his mother. The world his world made
much of his return, and life seemed again full of happiness for
Mrs. Landrey.

She was still a handsome woman tall, of superb propor-
tions, with black hair showing only a stray thread of gray, and
dark eyes which could melt and flash and freeze and blaze,
under their thick black lashes wonderful eyes they were, eyes
that revealed her soul in spite of herself. She had shapely
white hands, large and firm, with straight fingers and pink
palms, crossed by the lines that indicate pride, courage, a love
of the beautiful. Mrs. Landrey had other traits besides these,
admirable traits for the most part, which her environment had
not brought out so distinctly. As for some others not admira-
ble who is there without faults ? Every soul has characteris-
tics not revealed until illuminated by the search-lights which
life throws over its most secret recesses sometimes brought out
by great sorrow, sometimes only through great happiness.

1 897.] MOTHER AND SON. 731

After her years of mourning Mrs. Landrey had taken up
the threads of her life ; and her place in society, in works of
charity, in parish concerns, knew her again as of old. More
than one man had offered her consolation a new love and a
new name, but she had positively, rather haughtily refused.
Was she to be called by one name, her son by another? To
be fettered with obligations which might conflict with her obli-
gations to her boy? Were men crazy that they could dream
of such a thing ?

As to her piety, no one could say that it was not fervent
and deep. All her life she had been a devout attendant at the
services of the church ; on many a cold morning she had
walked to Mass rather than take out the coachman and horses.
When Lent came she laid aside the garb of fashion, forsook
the haunts of pleasure, her needle was busy for the poor, her
carriage waited in the purlieus of poverty, and her hand
smoothed the brows of friendless sufferers in the charity wards
of the hospitals. The feasts of the church were made days of
beautiful observance, and the prayers and the chants and the
liturgy were to her a precious heritage. Never in her life had
she committed a wilful mortal sin, and as for her predominant
passion she tried as well as she could to overcome it consider-
ing her profound ignorance of it. In this ignorance she was
not alone. Pride has been the curse of the world, she would
have told you readily enough ; but in her own case she called
it something else. And in some of its aspects there was some-
thing fine about her pride. Why should not one appreciate the
blessing of having been born a Lannau and married to a
Landrey? The original American Lannau made a fortune
early in life, and rapidly became an important person in the
affairs of the French settlement gradually making its way from
a village into a city.

Another ancestor had come over to America about the
same time, and peddled colored buttons, of the kind most
favored for necklaces, to the Indians ; but this was a mere
detail of family history. Mrs. Landrey did not believe in bur-
dening the memory with transactions so uninteresting. It was
enough to remember all the deeds of valor and honor and
goodness and usefulness of the gentlemen whose portraits
adorned the family mansion.

To her nephew, Owen Torrington, Mrs. Landrey was a
character-study. Owen was the only son of her husband's half-
sister. Hortense Landrey had married a Protestant on the

732 MOTHER AND SON. [Mar.,

usual conditions, and died when her first child was born. Two
years after her death Owen Torrington, senior, married again,
and the second Mrs. Torrington was a strict Presbyterian, who
did not consider for a moment that her husband's promise to
his dead wife had any binding force on her; hence she brought
up the boy in her own church. The Landreys protested, of
course ; but family peace seemed a dearer thing to Torrington
than the wishes of relations-in-law, so the step-mother had her
way. Owen was three years older than his cousin Vincent, but
the two boys were always fast friends until their pathways
parted to ascend divergently the mountain named Higher Edu-
cation.

Young Torrington went to Harvard, where it was his mis-
fortune to get in with what is notorious the country over as
the " Harvard fast set." Before the allurements so temptingly
offered the poor boy went down like a reed in a tornado. At
the end of his four years he was already worn and cynical
spiritually, although athletic, brainy, and ambitious to outward
showing.

Owen often thought of his cousin, and there was a vague,
regretful envy in his thoughts as he recalled the rosy-cheeked,
innocent boy, so manly and honorable, so true a little gentle-
man, and so pious. Piety in Vincent as he hurried off to
Mass, or excused himself from some boyish frolic because it
was his confession-day, seemed higher and manlier than piety
in the abstract had appeared to Owen. The boys corresponded
from time to time, but not frequently enough for either to
keep in touch with the other's spiritual or mental attitudes.
Torrington, not being the heir to millions, returned to St.
Louis and settled down to work. Sometimes in the vacations
he had seen something of his cousin, but Vincent was usually
off at some resort with his mother, or else abroad ; so it might
be said that the two had parted as school-boys to meet after
the lapse of years as men.

Owen was curious to see what Vincent would do with his
life ; he fully expected that it would be something beyond the
ordinary rounds of business and pleasure that made up the
lives of the average youths of his own kind. Would his multi-
millionaire cousin turn public benefactor, patron of art and
education, collector of pictures and china, .or found a co-opera-
tive colony and beggar himself in his efforts to bring prosper-
ity to his fellow-men? But to all appearances Vincent Landrey
began his career as a man very much like other rich young

1 897.] MOTHER AND SON. 733

men with refined tastes, and the education and training of a
gentleman.

The first little shock on 'his cousin's account came to Owen
Torrington when he called at Mrs. Landrey's at eleven o'clock
one Sunday morning, and was told that Vincent had not yet
made his appearance.

" The poor boy was not feeling very well this morning, and
so did not get up for church," explained Mrs. Landrey. Tor-
rington, who knew for certain that Vincent had been playing
billiards at the University Club until midnight on Saturday, was
discreetly silent as to his private opinion of Vincent's illness,
as he murmured some empty phrases of conventional regret
and followed the footman up the grand stairway to Vincent's
sumptuous quarters.

" Halloo, youngster ! I thought I'd find you with prayer-
book and beads at this hour," called Torrington, as Vincent
raised himself lazily in bed, and turned his beautiful black
eyes, so like his mother's, in the direction of the approaching
footsteps.

" I had a beastly headache this morning my pulse was
beating like a trip-hammer so I claimed the privilege of a sick
man," answered Vincent, but not very glibly.

After that Owen watched his cousin, partly from his old
love for him, partly as a philosopher of human nature ; and he
did not have long to wait to find that Vincent was well, just
like himself, like dozens of other young men of his set, un-
blushing hedonists all of them.

Vincent had been at home a year when a newspaper given
up more and more to the exploiting of sensations and the airing
of family skeletons, hinted broadly that young Landrey was pay-
ing marked attentions to a pretty chorus girl, in a comic opera
company then filling an engagement at a summer theatre.
Although the girl drew her modest weekly salary as a member
of an opera company, she earned it with her dancing, not
with her voice. Owen looked on, sadly in some moods, with
amusement in others. But when he ventured to broach the
subject of the chorus-girl in a bantering way to Vincent, he
was met with a decided rebuff.

One evening in early autumn, as the cousins sat smoking
together in a cozy corner of the club, Owen broke 'the silence
by saying, apropos of nothing that Vincent could lay hold of,
" Do you know, Vincent, without meaning to do it, you have
taken a great deal away from me ? '
VOL. LXIV. 47

734 MOTHER AND SON. [Mar.,

Young Landrey stirred uneasily, and a tinge of color surged
to his fair, smooth brow.

" You used to embody an ideal to me," continued Torring-
ton, "but I find that you. are merely a reality."

" Hang it all, Owen, a fellow gets into the current and
can't help himself ! ' answered Vincent. " I know what you
mean, but you can't expect a man to remain a boy all his
life ? "

ft No, but you were such a sweet boy ! I really had some
fear for you that you might go .into a monastery and sell all
your possessions to give to the poor."

" I say, don't be irreverent, Owen. Quotations from the
Scriptures aren't in your line. Stick to Horace ! '

" I'm in earnest," replied Torrington. " I really did expect
something out of the ordinary from you."

Owen as a student of human nature and human vagaries
often wondered what Mrs. Landrey thought of Vincent's ways
that was the rather vague epithet which expressed a great
deal.

Once Owen came upon his aunt unexpectedly in a little
reception room where she was earnestly engaged in giving a
religious instruction to her under footman, a young Swede
who had manifested a desire to know something of the old
church.

Owen was too much like one of the family to cause any
postponement of the lesson. Quite possibly Mrs. Landrey
thought that a few stray seeds might fall on the youth's own
neglected soul.

After the lesson was over, Torrington picked up the little
catechism out of which Mrs. Landrey had been dealing words
of wisdom to the stalwart young Swede, and glanced through
it, carelessly at first and then with awakening interest. His
aunt was called away to put her name down for a subscription
to the cyclone sufferers, and Owen was left alone with the
catechism.

When she returned she was greeted with the question,
"Aunt Mimi, do you believe everything in this little book?' :

Mrs. Landrey flushed, and there was a gleam in her still
beautiful eyes. Owen perceived that he had made a mistake.

" I didn't mean my question doesn't mean just what it
says," he floundered on, feeling that he was in a difficulty.
" We can believe a thing in a sort of way, and not believe
it practically, don't you know ? Something like this, Aunt

1 897.] MOTHER AND SON. 735

Mimi : we all believe in a general fashion that poverty, accord-
ing to the Scriptures, is a more perfect state of life than wealth ;
that the man who works with his hands to support his wife
and children is a nobler sort of man than the one who doesn't
work at all ; but as a matter of fact we don't believe anything
of the sort ; if we did, the idlers would give their surplus to
the poor and buy a spade. We don't believe that the duke
who has never worked in all his life, either w r ith his hands or
his brains when he has any unless baccarat and yachting
spell work is inferior to the man who club-hauls the sails for
him, or the man who tills the ancestral acres. Do you actually
believe, for instance, that the average young man as you and I
and the world know him is on the same plane religiously
speaking,^and as this catechism says he is, with the poor wretch
who breaks another commandment and steals a dollar or forges
a check ? '

Mrs. Landrey was rather an inscrutable person when not
taken unawares, but she could not repress a certain haughtiness
of tone as she replied : " My dear Owen, I really must decline
to commit myself in regard to the average young man I know
too little about him but you must have a very low estimate
of your class if you place him on the same plane with a sneak
thief or a forger ! '

"Just like a woman," commented Owen mentally, " to shift
the burden of the proposition from the hard-and-fast answers
in the catechism to my opinion as if I had any ! '

The young man replied aloud : " I didn't know that my
opinions counted one way or the other; they have nothing to
do with the argument. I was merely trying to find out whether
these answers in the catechism bind you literally, or whether
they admit of a mountain of mental reservation."

Vincent, who had come in during the heat of the skirmish,
here interposed a comment in a lighter vein, and succeeded in
turning the conversation into a smoother channel.

But Owen Torrington bought a catechism of his own, and a
prayer-book, and read them most diligently ; he even spent an
evening at home, using the midnight electricity whilst he
studied and pondered over questions polemical and dogmatic.
Then, at the risk of Mrs. Landrey's further displeasure, he
asked her again if she firmly believed everything in those books,
without any mental reservation whatever, just as she believed
that the sun would set, or that she had been born into the world
and would go out of it. And when he received an earnest and

736 MOTHER AND SON. [Mar.,

impassioned answer in the affirmative, he looked at his relative
through narrowing lids, and was unusually sober and thought-
ful for the rest of the day. When he met Vincent at the club
that evening Owen said to himself : " If I had a mother who
believed as your mother says she believes, and she let me come
to the pass you are in, how I should hate her ! ' And yet
Owen very well knew that Mrs. Landrey loved Vincent as she
had never loved any one else in this world !

In the early autumn when people were straggling back to
town from mountain and sea-shore, and democratic farm-houses,
and matrons were uncertain whether to rejoice at their freedom
from all social duties, or to bemoan the burden of starting the
domestic machinery, in that interval between the gaiety of the
summer and the greater gaiety of the winter, Owen went to
dine quite informally with the Landreys. Owen had enjoyed
but a beggarly two weeks' vacation, and Vincent, for reasons
best known to himself, had remained in town until quite late
in the season ; but Mrs. Landrey and Hortense had been
away since early June. It was now October.

The conversation turned on a young man of their own set
who had disgraced his family by marrying a girl, to whom
marriage was due, belonging far down near the base of the
social pyramid.

Mrs. Landrey said emphatically that his family owed it to
themselves and to society to have nothing to do with the
pair ; that such disgrace as his should have the sepulchre of
oblivion.

Her vehemence amused Owen in the light of his recently
acquired knowledge. Mrs. Landrey claimed to believe that
there is no evil comparable to the evil of mortal sin ; that
death, poverty, exile, were as nothing to this awful thing called
sin, the logical complement to which would be reparation. Yet
she was for meting out the severest punishment to a sinner,
not for his sin but for his atonement of that sin. It was as
if one professed to be sure that two and two make four, but
denied emphatically that two from four leaves two.

" Ah, my beautiful aunt, you have heard of the chorus
girl ! ' Owen commented to himself.

As he walked home that night, the glorious harvest moon
lighting up the broad street, and bringing out in poetic out-
lines the beautiful new mansions lining the way, his thoughts
were still in the same groove. Here was a woman, he mused,
who professed Christianity, and practised the world's code a

1 897.] MOTHER AND SON. 737

woman who could turn her son out into the street for marry-
ing beneath his own station who would no more invite to her
house a poor wretch who had cheated at cards than she would
a leper, but who could smile her sweetest on men who were,
according to her own creed, on the high road to hell.

"My dear Aunt Mimi, you are a charming humbug!' he
apostrophized aloud, and then turned quickly in terror lest a
chance policeman had overheard him.

After that it was many moons before Owen again looked
into the little catechism.

Owen was puzzled at the contrast between Vincent and his
sister. Hortense Landrey came very near to being Torrington's
ideal of what a young girl should be pure, sweet, innocent,
loving, sympathetic, loyal in friendship, beautiful, high-bred.
Hortense had been shielded from even the knowledge of evil,
and hedged in with every safeguard. Her playmates had been
carefully selected, and the books she read ; even the domestics
who came into her life were scrutinized both as to their morals
and their accent ; the ugly, sordid world had not so much as
touched her with the hem of its garments only the world beau-
tiful had revealed its secrets to this young girl, dainty as a rose-
bud with the morning dew still upon it, blooming in a walled
garden where not the vestige of a weed had ever been allowed
to take root. From the loving vigilance of a fond mother
Hortense had passed under the greater vigilance of a convent
school where only the elect of maidenhood were welcomed.
.And wherever she had gone to Europe, Mexico, Florida all
the places where the American girl is found in charming tf
superfluous numbers her mother too had gone.

And as a young lady in society, the protecting care over
her had been almost as great. Hortense had been handled, to
change the metaphor, as the rarest bit of porcelain, whilst her
brother had been left to float down the stream, taking his
chances with the veriest earthen jars.

And yet Mrs. Landrey would have walked over the dead
bodies of fifty Hortenses for her son !

It was very puzzling. In the meantime it was diverting to
watch Vincent in a perfectly open way ; for Vincent's acts, to do
him justice, were usually open to the world, if the world cared
to look.

The opera company had long since taken their blonde wigs
and beautiful persons away from the summer theatre, and
were, it is to be hoped, considering the American climate, dis-

738 MOTHER AND SON. [Mar.,

porting themselves in attire not quite so abbreviated. But
May Levering, the chorus girl who had captured Vincent's
fancy, remained behind. She drove a pair of matched ponies in
Forest Park, and diamonds twinkled from her pretty ears.

Owen found himself more and more at sea in regard to his
cousin. Clearly Vincent's theories the theories according to
which he had been brought up of self-denial, self-restraint,
victory of duty over inclination, the higher life over the lower,
mind over matter, reason over animal passion ; the code of the
philosopher added to the precepts of the Christian, were not
the canon of Vincent's daily life.

And the young man himself merely laughed or hummed
the latest song when Owen, with the familiarity of friendship
and kinship, tried to get Vincent's mental attitude towards his
own conduct. No one was more popular than young Landrey ;
the polished, agreeable companion, the warm friend, the loving
brother, the devoted son, the courtier in society, the honored
millionaire in the world of business, the genial favorite every-
where, went on his rose-strewn way.

If his mother had any misgivings on account of her son no
one was the wiser. Certainly not Owen Torrington ; and this
student of psychology often wished, when he met his aunt and
Hortense coming from church, prayer-book in hand, and knew
that Vincent was lounging over the morning papers, that he
could turn a Roentgen ray on the soul of the queenly, in-
scrutable matron.

When he looked at Vincent Landrey, the people that make
up the world, considered as sentient beings under an eternal
law, seemed more of an enigma than ever. It was like having
a key that would not fit into the lock.

The winter was well established, the first snow of the sea-
son had confirmed its title, when the cousins again found
themselves together after dinner in their own especial club
corner.

" Owen, my dear boy, do you know that you have con-
tracted the beastly habit of staring at a fellow as if you wanted
to find out something?' said Vincent Landrey to his cousin.
" You don't happen to be a mind-reader, do you, or an amateur
detective, or a Hoodoo or a Hindu, or something that is un-
canny and not quite respectable ? '

Owen Torrington blushed guiltily, and knocked his cigar
ashes with unwonted deliberation into the little silver tray at
his side.

1897-] MOTHER AND SON. 739

" I beg your pardon, Vincent ; I'm afraid I was staring. To
tell the truth, I do want to find out something a secret that
is- as old as the Sphinx as old as Adam."

" The Cyclop&dia Britannica might help you ; I know I can't.
Secrets aren't much in my line," retorted Vincent with an easy
laugh. " That prolonged scrutiny of yours makes one feel that
one had been weighed in the balance and found wanting some-
thing like a Mexican silver dollar, or a punched quarter."

Vincent was uncompromisingly for the gold standard, and so
his comparison expressed measureless inferiority.

"Halloo, Landrey ! How are you, Torrington ? ' interrupted
a cheery voice belonging to a handsome, athletic-looking man
with a blonde mustache ; and the owner of the mustache, and a
mile or two of stone-front houses in good localities, advanced
towards the cousins.

"How are you, Bangs?' responded the two in the meaning-
less phrase of Anglo-Saxon civilization.

" Hurry, Vincent, my boy, or we shall be in for a scolding,"
continued the blonde one addressed as Bangs, but whose visit-
ing cards gave Sydney Armstrong before the commonplace
patronymic.

And then Torrington knew that Vincent had an engagement
of which he had not cared to speak.

" I've a spanking new team that I'm going to try to the
cutter this evening, Owen. Come out and see my beauties,"
invited Vincent, as he rose to go with Sydney Bangs. The
three young men went into the coat-room, and soon Vincent
and young Bangs emerged encased in heavy overcoats and fur
caps, as if for arctic snows.

" We are going to make a night of it," explained Bangs
easily. " Sorry you can't come with us."

Torrington shared this regret tacitly if at all, and ran
lightly down the steps and across the broad flagging to where
Vincent's cutter, with his latest purchase in horse-flesh, was
waiting.

It was a clear, cold, sparkling night, with the snow over
everything, its spotless expanse of white broken only in the
middle of the street by two dark paths made by passing hoofs
and wheels, and on each side the gleaming stretch of stone
sidewalks where busy shovels, in the hands of thrifty poverty,
had cleaned the way.

The stars seemed gloriously bright and mysteriously remote ;
a waning moon had barely risen over the housetops. A whiff

740 MOTHER AND SON. [Mar.,

of keen frosty air, the sweet jingle of silver sleigh-bells, the
glitter of flying snow as the horses, eager to show their metal,
lifted their feet in spirited grace, and the two on pleasure bent
were off.

" Young blood must have its fling, I suppose," mused Owen.
" Vincent is a handsome chap strong and straight and well-
featured as a Viking or a Greek god. I dare say he will marry
soon, and settle down. It's a wonder that he has escaped the
mammas as long as he has. Aunt Mimi must be something
of a dragon to keep them from capturing her treasure of a
boy. Matrimony would be the best thing for him it might
prove a counter-irritant, if it happened not to prove a blessing.
Vincent will make a good husband, like the rest of the Landreys,
if family tradition count for anything a model paterfamilias
heading the procession to the family pew on Sundays, and figur-
ing in the Citizens' Reform Club, and on all the charities. In
the meantime he is sowing his wild oats ! Who reaps, I won-
der, those limitless crops of wild oats ? Certainly not their
sowers ! '

Owen sighed, and turned to go back to the warmth and
brightness of the club. He looked up the street, and Vincent's
cutter, already many blocks away, seemed like a flying black
speck in a track of white.

And that was the last time he saw his cousin alive.

Owen reached home very late from the club, having vainly
tried for hours to defeat a visitor from Detroit at billiards, and
was just sinking into his first doze when he was aroused by a vio-
lent commotion at the side entrance, and scurrying feet through
the halls. A frightened maid came to his door and said that
Mrs. Landrey's Thomas was there, and Mr. Vincent had been
killed! and would he come at once?

Lights gleamed from the windows of the spacious Landrey
mansion when Owen reached it at three o'clock in the morning.
A dozen terror-stricken domestics were huddled together in the
shadow of the broad stairway, hardly daring to whisper.

Hortense, pale as the marble statue of Diana standing in
fearless poise at the entrance, came flying down the stairs she
had evidently been watching for Owen from the arched landing
which broke their leisurely ascent.

All at once his blood seemed to freeze as scream after
scream came through the half-open door of the library.

" He is in there," whispered Hortense, leading the way to
the library the luxurious, cheery room that had been the scene

1897-] MOTHER AND SON. 741

of so many happy hours given over to the intimacies of family
life and love.

Stretched on a couch before the sluggish embers of a wood-
fire in the library was Vincent's lifeless body ; prone before
him, her arms clasping the motionless form of her darling, was
Mrs. Landrey. Two doctors stood in the uncertain attitudes of
persons who know that they can do nothing by remaining, and
yet who hardly feel free to go.

" Vincent, my darling, my precious boy, speak to me ! Oh,
my God, give me back my boy ! Vincent, Vincent, Vincent ! '

Hortense leaned her head against the door, and gasped as if
for breath, whilst a shuddering sigh shook her slender figure.
Owen stopped abruptly, sick and almost faint. Recovering him-
self he stepped forward.

" Aunt Mimi," he said softly, and tried to raise the stricken
mother in his arms ; but she merely looked at him for a mo-
ment with wild, staring, unseeing eyes, and tightened her clasp
around her dead son.

The tale was soon told : A runaway and the sleigh thrown
down a chasm appeared a simple enough explanation for the
world at large. But it did not account for the bullet-wound
upon the right temple that was hidden by the tangled mass of
curls hanging over it.

From the daily papers Owen afterwards learned that May
Levering, Vincent's companion on that fatal sleigh-ride, had been
taken to the Sisters' Hospital it happened to be the nearest
to the scene of the tragedy had lived four hours, receiving
baptism from the hands of the chaplain before her death. But
Torrington did not understand Mrs. Landrey's despairing cry,
"Why is that wretched creature alive, while my boy is snatched
from me so ? '

To Owen, much as he loved his cousin, this mercy if it was
the mercy Mrs. Landrey seemed to regard it was a bit of
equalizing justice. Vincent had had everything ; this girl noth-
ing. Temptation had come to her almost as a birthright ; her
fall had been the sequence to the opportunity that men like
Vincent Landrey give to the May Leverings of a sinful world.

As the moans of the stricken mother became more agonizing
the two doctors consulted together, and then the elder pro-
duced a little vial from his pocket-case, and forced something
between the colorless lips. In a few moments the opiate did
its work, and the bereft one was unconscious of her woe. Owen
and young Dr. Bentley, the assistant to the family physician,

742 MOTHER AND SON. [Mar.,

carried Mrs. Landrey up the stairs to her room, Hortense run-
ning lightly ahead to show the way.

" Cousin Owen, I am afraid mamma will go crazy," whispered
the girl, shaking with sobs.

On Owen Torrington devolved all the sad duties which
death demands of the nearest kindred. It was he who saw the
undertaker, and summoned the Sisters from St. Joseph's Asylum
to keep watch over what had been handsome Vincent Landrey.
Mrs. Landrey had been a munificent benefactor to this institu-
tion, and they could not refuse her request. And it was Owen
who went at last to Father McCarthy, the rector of St. Luke's,
the Landreys' parish church, to make the necessary arrange-
ments for the funeral.

" I want a Solemn Requiem Mass, and Father McCarthy
himself to go to the grave, and everything," Mrs. Landrey had
roused herself to say to Owen when he had ventured into her
presence timidly to ask for instructions.

Owen was shown into Father McCarthy's study, a cozy little
den with a cheery coal fire burning in the grate, and one or
two plain engravings on the walls. The priest, in cassock and
beretta, was seated at a big, old-fashioned desk rapidly going
through his correspondence. He glanced pleasantly at Owen
through near-sighted eyes, and said, " Come in, Mr. Torrington ;
what can I do for you ? '

When Owen had explained his errand there was an omi-
nous change in the priest's look and bearing as he sat bolt-up-
right in his chair and pushed his beretta to the back of his head.

" My dear Mr. Torrington, I am at a loss to understand
why Mrs. Landrey should have sent you on such a mission to
me. She knows very well that we cannot give her unfortunate
son Christian burial."

Owen was shocked. He did not know the real circumstances,
but Father McCarthy somehow did.

The very thought of going back to Mrs. Landrey with such
an answer overwhelmed him. He simply could not. Then he
made a mistake.

" I have heard that one can get dispensations in your church.
Couldn't you as a great favor, a very great favor to Mrs. Lan-
drey, get a dispensation for the funeral of my cousin? I could
place at your command any amount of money hundreds,
thousands."

The priest stood up. " Mr. Torrington, Mrs. Landrey is a
very rich woman ; but there is not gold enough in the city of

1 897.] MOTHER AND SON. 743

St. Louis to buy one square inch of consecrated ground for
her son."

When Owen was again outside in the street the crisp cold
air seemed to clarify his mental vision. He had been angered
with the priest, but anger was giving place to something like
admiration.

As he crossed the street he looked back at the house, and
caught a glimpse through the window of Father McCarthy still
standing by his desk. Owen raised his hat involuntarily and
murmured, " To a consistent man ! '

Torrington did not relish the task before him. What was
he to say to Mrs. Landrey ? But fate temporized by giving him
first the lesser problem of what he was to say to Hortense ;
for the girl met him tremulously in the hall. Owen tried to
soften the refusal which of itself made softness impossible.

" Poor Vincent ! my poor, poor brother ! ' wailed the girl,
the hot tears trickling through her white fingers as she covered
her face with her hands.

" It can't matter to Vincent what his funeral may be," said
Owen, trying to give a little comfort.

" Not to have Christian burial ! to be put into the ground
like a dog? O Cousin Owen!' and her tone conveyed the
horror of a measureless ill.

" Ah, well, perhaps some other minister will not be so strict.
Indeed, I am sure that Dr. Grace of St. Bartholomew's, or any
other Episcopal clergyman in the city, would be willing to offi-
ciate, and they are Christians even your mother will not dis-
pute that ! "

" It wouldn't do you don't understand ! We are Catholics.
Vincent was a Catholic, if he was Vincent, Vincent, my
sweet brother ! '

In company with the wretched mother Owen Torrington,
an hour later, again stood in the presence of Father McCarthy.

Mrs. Landrey was indignant, insistent, suppliant, piteously
tearful. It moved Owen strangely to see this imperious woman
on her knees to the priest, pleading brokenly for her boy.
Had she been asking for the life of her son she could not have
been more agonizingly earnest. It puzzled Owen why she should
care so much for a meaningless ceremony ; it was almost as if
the death of her only son counted for little, his Christian burial
for everything. 9

11 I shall appeal to the bishop," came as a final word from
the dauntless mother, as she arose from her feet.

744 MOTHER AND SON. [Mar.,

All during the drive to the bishop's residence she sat like
a stone woman ; her lips pinched and drawn and purple, her
eyes staring, and yet seeing nothing in this world.

As the young man helped her out of the carriage she leaned
heavily on his arm for a second, and then walked unassisted
up the broad stone steps. An imposing new mansion had re-
cently taken the place of the modest domicile the great bishop
for many years had called his home.

By a curious turn of memory Owen recalled that the last
time he had ascended those steps his Cousin Vincent had been
with him. They were going to a reception given by a relative
of the bishop's, and he could hear again the hum of the orches-
tra which floated out through the opening doors, and the gay
laughter of Vincent as he turned to Owen and said banter-
ingly " Now get ready for holy water."

And Mrs. Landrey had been among the receiving party.
Could this poor creature be the same woman who had stood
there in the drawing-room, so serene, so majestic, so charming,
so winning? If Owen had ever been envious of anything he
could have envied Vincent Landrey his mother.

The bishop came in at once to see Mrs. Landrey, with warm,
est, kindest, courtliest words of sympathy. But he shook his
head at the impassioned request.

" I cannot/' he said. " Believe me, my poor child, I would
if I could!" - ' .

So the funeral notice went to the press : " Interment pri-
vate." The world knew what it meant ; the Catholic world knew
and grieved.

And the last night came which Vincent Landrey was to
spend in his beautiful home. Owen was there to keep loyal
vigil, and the two sisters from the asylum.

It was after midnight when a shadow fell across the hall,
and Owen glanced up from the book he was pretending to read,
to see his aunt coming swiftly down the grand stairway. She
had on a trailing house-gown of red velvet, one she had been
wearing on the day Vincent was killed. Confined at the waist
with a heavy gold cord, and opening over a petticoat of old-
rose brocade, there was something almost barbaric in the
richness of her attire, contrasting strangely with her dishevelled
dark hair, coiled in a mass on the top of her shapely head, and
her haggard, white face, in which the lines had deepened and
made her old.

In the spacious drawing-room was Vincent in his coffin ;

1897-] MOTHER AND SON. 745

candles were burning around him, and the two sisters were on
their knees saying their beads. As the mother pushed aside
the portieres and entered the room the sisters withdrew to the
unfamiliar richness of the hall. Owen had followed a few steps,
but she stopped him " Leave me alone with my boy."

She sank on the floor by the side of the coffin, the heavy
carpet giving back no sound, and pressed her lips to the dead
lips of her son.

The minutes went slowly by as if weighted with lead, until
it seemed to Owen that the mother had been for hours by
Vincent's coffin. But it had not been a half-hour when Hor-
tense came stealing down the stairs, followed by Mrs. Tappan,
a cousin of Mrs. Landrey's, who felt it her duty to remain with
her relative in this time of trial.

"Where is mamma, Cousin Owen? She has been gone so
long I was uneasy," whispered the girl. Owen motioned towards
the drawing-room.

Mrs. Tappan, whose activity nothing could subdue, repeated
the questions in smothered staccatos. Mrs. Tappan was dis-
tinctly frivolous ; she had been born so and had improved on
her birthright. She was conceded to have a good heart a con-
cession usually made to those who by no stretch of the imagi-
nation or the mantle of charity can be said to have a good
head. Owen had never liked her, and she did not waste any
sentiment about Owen.

Mrs. Tappan bustled towards the door, but Hortense and
Owen stood irresolute, fearing to advance, yet disliking to go
back. t

11 Poor mamma ! can't you get her to go to bed, Cousin
Owen ? She will be worn out before to-morrow " ; the girl
broke off abruptly, as if she did not let her thoughts stray be-
yond the to-morrow when the clay that had been Vincent Lan-
drey would be given again to its native earth.

Mrs. Tappan had the courage of her ignorance, and she
went forward without hesitation : " Cousin Mimi, you must go
to bed," she commanded.

Mrs. Landrey had raised her face from the coffin at the
sound of voices.

" Come and see your work yours and women like you," she
answered in a calm, judicial tone. "Your smiles and flatteries
and petting and complacent acceptance of everything that sends
young men to the devil have put my son in his coffin. My
boy my little boy that was so sweet and so innocent ! Oh,

746 MOTHER AND SON. [Mar.,

if he had but died in my arms as a baby! Come in, Hortense ;
why are you standing there ? I took care enough of you ; it
was only my son I neglected. My boy and I would give my
life a thousand times to make you happy- -Vincent, my darling,
speak to me ! My God, it is more than I can bear ! '

Owen felt creepy sensations go through him. He was not
unfamiliar with death ; it had touched him very nearly more
than once ; but this was awful. His musings were interrupted
by Mrs. Tappan.

"Don't you think that Cousin Mimi is losing her senses over
her trouble, Mr. Torrington ? '

But something in the words of the stricken mother as she
hurled her denunciations at society's code, as represented by
Mrs. Tappan, made him want to say : " I think that she is just
coming into them"; he said, instead, " Why no, Mrs. Tappan,
I hope not. Aunt Mimi is simply overwrought ; if she could
sleep it would be the best thing. Hortense, you must take
your mother abroad. Go for a cruise in the Mediterranean, or
up the Nile. She must get away from all reminder of Vin-
cent."

" Mamma will never get away from that," answered the girl.

Mrs. Tappan went back up the stairs, and Hortense, after
lingering aimlessly for a moment, followed her. But the mother
remained prostrate by her son until the milkman's cart rumbling
over the pavement told that day was at hand.

The sun was sending its first stray beams over the muddy
Mississippi when Owen went home for an hour's rest before his
sad duties must again press heavily upon him.

Promptly at nine o'clock the hearse drew up before the eo-
trance to the magnificent Romanesque mansion guarded by two
stone lions. It seemed very early ; the sluggish winter sun was
hardly visible through the chill, hazy atmosphere ; there was so
little stir in the broad avenue where wealth and fashion had
made their dwelling-place that there was almost the effect of
stealth in the swift, noiseless movements of the undertaker and
his men.

Mrs. Landrey and Hortense entered the drawing-room, clad
in the sable garb by which our civilization proclaims its grief.
Mrs. Landrey pushed aside the long veil which swept around
her like some sad insignia of royalty, and Owen was sorry to
see that her eyes were tearless.

The nuns stood aside, and the mother and sister advanced
to bestow the farewell kiss. Owen noticed that the stilled

1897-] MOTHER AND SON, 747

hands were clasping a crucifix. He did not know that the
mother had placed it there the crucifix which a pope had
blessed, and which contained relics of a martyred Jesuit.
Something holy would go to the grave with her boy !

The coffin-lid was screwed down, and Vincent Landrey went
out of his home the home where everything of love and care
and joy and honor and culture and wealth had been thrown
around his young life ; out of the stately portals where the
proudest and highest in the old city had been glad to enter.

A stray gleam of sunlight straggled through the bare
branches of the trees lining the street, and touched the silver
handles of the coffin almost like a caress. And Vincent Lan-
drey was no more than the humblest day laborer who had gone
that day to his eternal rest. The millionaire was to have six
feet of earth ; so would the laborer.

The words of Scripture used in the English burial service
came to Owen :

" He brought nothing into the world, and it is certain that
he can take nothing out of it."

In Calvary Cemetery the snow lay over everything, and, ris-
ing from the white bosom of Mother Earth, granite shaft arid
sculptured urn and gleaming marble cross asked mutely for re-
membrance and prayers for those for ever beyond the pulse-
beats of time.

By the stately mausoleum of his father was the new-made
grave waiting for Vincent Landrey. It took only a few mo-
ments to lower the coffin, and cover it away from human eyes.
Even Owen began to comprehend that something very real
was wanting. Not even one little prayer poor Vincent ! The
last shovelful of earth was piled on the little mound, and the
men with their spades turned away ; the mother with a convul-
sive cry threw herself on the grave, with arms outstretched.
Owen Torrington, supporting Hortense, was blinded with his
tears, but he could only look on and do nothing.

The time had gone by for ever when any one could do any-
thing.

DEUS ET ANIMA.

BY BERT MARTEL.

Deus :

' AIN would I stay, and yet thou bidst me go.

The struggle's one of pain
* To leave thee so,

And ne'er again

My love's own loveliness to know.
Thy dear lips quiver as they speak ;
How faint and weak
Thou utterest farewell !
Thy sweet eyes nathless smile,
As if they would beguile
Those traitor tears that fell.

A nima :

Yea, Love, the immortal war of good and ill

Rages within my breast,

Striving to kill.

The flesh, the world, the spirit of unrest

In triple bond assault my will.

Therefore, my Love, Thou must remain

To soothe my pain.

For lacking Thy caress,

Trembling, I'd fall in fear,

Beneath the fardel drear

Of sinfulness.

EX-KING MATAAFA, HIS QUEEN AND MINISTERS.

A VISIT TO THE SAMOAN ISLANDS.

[INMOST the first building that attracts attention
on the beach at Samoa is the Catholic church,
a substantial-looking building where nearly all
the structures are so open and frail. Above
on the beach are the Tivoli Hotel, the Old
Mission House a curious old relic the German consul-
ate, and the premises of a big German firm. The Germans
seem to control everything down here, and are correspondingly
disliked. In fact, the people, whites as well as natives, are
quite discontented with the government they have to put up
with. A brusque German is president of the municipal council
and draws a salary of some five thousand dollars a year.
There are only one hundred and sixty tax-payers in Apia, and
they think this is altogether too much for practically doing
nothing.

The present monarch, King Malietoa, is very unpopular,
especially with the natives, a large majority of whom look
upon him as a usurper, placed over them by the aid of foreign
force. In fact, outside Apia the deposed King Mataafa is the
real king. Some years ago Mataafa became a convert to Catho-
licity and is a very devout, practical Catholic. The Germans
did not like this, and got up the cry that Mataafa would

VOL. LXtV. 4 8

750 A VISIT TO THE SAMOAN ISLANDS. [Mar.,

turn all the islands over to the Jesuits. This was made the
excuse for his deposition, which was most unjust, and was
vigorously denounced as such by the late Robert Louis Steven-
son. When Mataafa was beaten and sent away, and his chiefs
put in prison in Apia, Stevenson, whom they called Tusitala
" writer of tales ' -was very kind to the prisoners. When re-
leased, the native chiefs made a road to his house, which stood
and still stands on a high hill about two miles inland from
Apia. They would not take food or pay from him, but ac-
cepted a banquet when the work was completed. At the ban-
quet the Tusitala made a speech to them, in which he said :

"I will nttw'tell you, O chiefs, that when I saw you work-
ing on that road my heart grew warm, not only with thankful-
ness but with hope. It seemed to me the promise of some-
thing good for Samoa. It seemed to me you were a company
of warriors in a battle, fighting for one common country. For
there is a time to fight and a time to dig. You may fight and
you may conquer twenty times and thirty times, but there is
only one way to defend Samoa. Hear that way before it is too
late. It is to make roads and gardens, and to care for your

3i . -j

EX-KING MATAAFA'S ARMY.

trees, and sell their produce wisely, and, in one word, to occu-
py and use your land. If you do not, others will. God has
given you a rich soil, copious rain. All is ready to your hand,
half done. And I repeat to you the thing which is sure. If
you do not occupy and use your lands, other people will. The

A VISIT TO THE S A MO AN ISLANDS.

751

land will not continue to be yours or your children's if you
occupy it for nothing ; for that is the law of God, which pass-
eth not away. I, who speak to you, have seen these things.
I have seen with my own eyes these judgments of God. I

IN SAMOA THERE ARE SEVEN NATIVE SISTERS.

have seen them in Ireland, and in my own country, Scotland.
I have seen this judgment in Oahu also."

He went on to remind them that this was also the advice of
their great chief Mataafa, whom they all loved, and they would
not be obeying Mataafa unless they carried out this advice.

Mataafa made a good fight for his throne, and had some
splendid soldiers; but of course had no possibility of success
with the foreign forces against him.

Malietoa, king by the grace of Germany, England, and
America, is a very sorry monarch indeed. He is not respected,
but rather shunned and despised by his own people, and is

752 A VISIT TO THE SAMOAN ISLANDS. [Mar.,

treated with disrespect by the officials of the foreign powers.
The king's salary is only some couple of hundreds annually, and
this is rarely paid. It would delight the heart of the most
rabid social democrat to see the king on his daily outing. This
consists of a visit to a celebrated bathing place. He rides an
old horse, with the queen behind him, and the royal escort con-
sists of one man, with a piece of an old uniform on him and a
gun slung across his bare shoulder. The royal residence is a
one-story, weather-beaten house immediately adjoining a little
cemetery where lie buried the German blue-jackets who met
death at the hands of Mataafa's soldiers. The interior of the
" palace ' is very plainly furnished, about the only thing to at-
tract the eye being handsomely framed portraits of Queen Vic-
toria and the Emperor William. of Germany.

The Supreme Court is another object of interest to visitors.
It is presided over by Chief-Justice Ide, late of Vermont, quite
a typical representative of that State. The building is little and
quite insignificant to look at. Crowds of natives were squatted
on the veranda, while others looked in on the judicial pro-
ceedings through the open windows. The interior is even more
unassuming than the exterior. The walls were plain and simply
whitewashed, and the chief-justice sat on a bench like a school-
master's desk, and did not look unlike a Yankee school-master,
being without any insignia of exalted office or any natural dig-
nity to talk of.

Not far distant was the Tale-Pui-Pui, or jail. There are
usually between twenty and thirty prisoners. Native soldiers
supply the guard. They wore only their lava lavas (clothing
around the loins), outside of which was strapped the bayonet,
while a baton was tied around the waist. The prisoners are
employed in making roads. The Samoans have an idea of their
own regarding punishment. A big fellow called at the prison
and announced that he had come to take the place of a pris-
oner whose wife was sick and who wanted him home. He
could not understand why the exchange would not be made,
especially as he was stronger and could do more work than the
prisoner. He made a pathetic appeal on behalf of the sick
wife, and went away very dejected when he became convinced
he would not be accepted as a substitute prisoner.

One of the pleasant surprises of our rambles was the com-
ing suddenly on a convent almost completely hidden in a
magnificent grove of cocoa-nut, bread-fruit, and banana trees.
The day was intensely hot, and the convent was cool and its
corridors swept by a refreshing breeze artificially created, I

8 9 7.]

A VISIT TO THE SAMOAN ISLANDS.

753

presume. A second surprise was on finding three of the sisters
were of the native race. The convent is that of the Visitation
and the nuns are of the Marist Order. This order is now
spread over the Fiji Islands, Samoa, Tonga, New Caledonia,
Wallis and Fortuna Islands, the latter being the place where
the Blessed Peter Charrel was martyred. In Samoa there are
seven native sisters, three at Apia and the others at the dif-
ferent stations. The Apia sisters have three schools. One is
for white children
and half-castes,
and such Samo-
ans as desire to
learn English,
most of whom
are day scholars.
Then there is a
boarding school
for Samoan girls
where they are
taught in their
own language ;
also a day school
for those who do
not wish to board
there. The two
latter schools are
free. Sister M.
Cecilia gave us
much interest-
ing information
and plenty of
fresh and refresh-

cocoa-nut

IN PHYSIQUE THESE MEN CANNOT BE SURPASSED.

ing
milk.

These people live a simple, happy life, and have plenty of
healthful sports. But their great game is a species of cricket,
in which any number can join. It is an ordinary thing to be
aroused in the morning by the beating of kettle-drums and the
fanfare of trumpets. Getting into the street, you find a pro-
cession, composed of both sexes, on the way to one of the other
villages to play a match game of cricket. Some of the players
are always painted and dressed up in most grotesque fashion.
They will have nothing to do with the English bat, but will
wield a base-ball club, and the number of players is without

754 A VISIT TO THE SAMOAN ISLANDS. [Mar.,

limit. A necessity to the game is the presence of the Tampo,
or vestal maiden of the village, who presides over all sports.
Every village hopes to produce a ruling chief, or at least the wife
of a chief ; so a maiden is selected to be trained up for that
position. A committee of the old women of the village are ap-
pointed to watch over her, and are held responsible for her con-
duct. If she marries any other than a chief or " heir apparent,"
she has to leave the village in disgrace. She retains her tampo-
ship during good behavior until she marries, then another maid-
en is selected to succeed her.

With the players the game is quite a serious matter. The
fielder unlucky enough to miss a catch has to stand all the
prodding in the back of the clown, and all the jeers and gibes
of the old women of the village, who hurl at him the most de-
risive epithets they can think of. When a good hit is made
the partisans set up most unearthly yells and beat the kettle-
drums like mad people. The game itself generally lasts the
better part of a week, and during the whole of this time the
horde of visiting players and their supporters find lodging with
their opponents. I am sure base-ball would become a perfect
craze with these people ; and the man who would bring down
an American team would at least make a good speculation, and
perhaps be elected king.

A food-offering is another of the social institutions in Samoa.
This is called " tabolo," and is carried out from the humblest
to the highest scale of grandeur. Natives gather from all quar-
ters, by land and sea, in detachments of fifty, all carrying food
of various kinds and singing the virtues of the good things they
bring as they march along. Nearing the village, a short halt
is made and the warriors chant and go through their exercises.
It is quite a sight. In physique these men cannot be surpassed,
and their almost nude bodies, smoothed with oil, glisten in the
sun so that the men look like bronze statues. When the visitors
are seen nearing the village the prospective recipients turn out,
and, with song and dance, give welcome. The visitors then,
with stately tread and much ceremony, march to the clear space
and deposit their food-offerings. This done, they steal off to
a distance, where squatted down they remain until the food is
apportioned, after which all mingle together in feast and
merriment.

The picnic as a social institution has a firm hold in Apia.
A few miles up from the Tivoli Hotel is the beautiful cataract
of Papaloa (long rock), a favorite resort for picnic parties. Part
of the "athletic games," so to speak, is for crowds of girls to

A VISIT TO THE S A MO AN ISLANDS.

755

jump off the rock into the water below, a distance of fifty feet.
Every native, male and female, can dive and swim like a fish.

When the Samoans wish to especially honor visitors they
get up a picnic to the Falls of Papascen, or the Sliding Rock,
which is situated some six miles up in the woods behind the
town. The scenery en route is very charming, or rather enchant-
ing. The feature of the picnic sports is the shooting of the
falls. The natives start off to slide down the rock into the
pool below and the European is usually tempted to follow. It
is said the experience is novel and thrilling in the extreme, and
that those who have once experienced the fascination of slid-
ing down an inclined plane like a streak of lightning find it
hard to leave the sport.

Another of the duties of the tampo, which should be
mentioned, is that she presides at the kava-bowl on festive
occasions. The smallest social gathering or the grandest
palaver makes no difference ; the kava-bowl must be present.
Kava (the root of the Piper methysticum) resembles the dried

HOUSE-BUILDING IN SAMOA.

root of any ordinary tree. When the guests are assembled the
root is pounded or scraped into a fine powder. At this point
it is handed over to the tampo, who sifts the powdered root
with a bunch of fibre prepared from the bark of the yellow
hibiscus, while another girl pours water from a cocoa-nut vessel
over the mass, which is thoroughly worked until the whole es-
sence of the root is extracted. The completion of this process

756

A VISIT TO THE S A MO AN ISLANDS.

[Mar.,

is announced by the clapping of hands by all around. The
drink is then handed around, the tampo announcing each guest
in order of precedence. The drink is wholesome and refreshing,
and possesses singular virtue in allaying thirst. But to enjoy

THE WOMEN ARE MOSTLY OF FINE PHYSIQUE.

it one must become accustomed to the taste. A kava-bowl is
the most difficult curio to obtain. The frequent brewings coat
the inside with a beautiful enamel, and the better this is marked
the more valuable the bowl and the more loath the owner to
part with it at any price.

Another of the pleasures of outdoor life in Samoa but it
is all outdoor is the pastime of palolo-fishing. Palolo is a
sort of long, green worm which is to be found on the outer
reefs only at two seasons of the year. From certain indications
of surrounding nature the natives can tell the exact date of its
mysterious appearance. A few days previous to its advent reef-
ing parties are formed. The eventful days become a public
fete, and all the population, native, European, and American,
make for the outer reef in every description of boat. If your
boat is heavy, the chances are that you will have to get out and
almost carry it over the coral gardens, so shallow is the water
on the reefs. The palolo is capital eating to those accustomed
to it, and so soft that if exposed to the sun for any length of
time it will melt away. The event usually winds up with a water
fete, in which everybody splashes water on everybody else, or they
drag each other into the water, or upset the boats and canoes.

A charming feature of Samoan life is that you do not need
any money. All the trade is carried on by the I O U system.
Go into a store or a hotel or a bar-room and get what you
want. The clerk or attendant will push a printed slip towards
you. This you sign and walk out. These I O U's are put in

1 8 9 7.]

A VISIT TO THE S A MO AN ISLANDS.

757

the till. At the end of the month you are expected to come
around and redeem them. If you do not, why they go to the
profit-and-loss account.

Postmaster-General Davis of Apia is the most remarkable
official in the world. The people ignore the government post-
office and go to Davis, who, under an arrangement with King
Malietoa, prints his own postage-stamps, and pockets the pro-
ceeds, of the sales. They are recognized by other countries.
The currency of the islands is the American, but English money
is accepted.

One thing in all the Southern Pacific islands and colonies will
strike the traveller, especially if he is of a literary turn, and that
is the number of newspapers he will find. A place may look as
if it had about fifty inhabitants, and it is certain to have at

A SCHOOL OF ART IN SAMOA THE TATTOOING PROCESS.

least one and often two daily papers. Apia has two or three.
One of the editors opened his editorial review of the year
-it was the close of December by stating that if he fell short
of meeting the reader's full expectations, the said reader should
consider how difficult it was to write well " after two weeks
of holidays." The other paper had a prominent news-item
which read that, "owing to the course of nature, John McDonald
would be able to supply fresh milk to all who needed it."

As for industries, Samoa can hardly be said to possess any.
There is practically but one crop the cocoa-nut. The soil is
never turned up to the plough. Life is tame and primitive in

758 A VISIT TO THE SAMOAN ISLANDS. [Mar.,

the extreme. None of those things which a progressive civiliza-
tion considers necessary are to be found ; not a carriage or
omnibus, nor telephone, nor line of telegraph, nor mile of rail-
road, nor a gas-lamp or electric light in all Samoa. The people
are amiable and good-natured, and satisfied with their tropical
laziness, and do not know, or want to know, anything about pro-
gress or enterprise. A New-Yorker can enjoy it for a week or
two because of its great contrast and restfulness, but it must
eventually become unbearably monotonous. The whites on the
whole island number only four hundred. There is one very
gratifying fact, namely, the natives have been saved from the
curse of rum, which has been the ruin of so many of the South
Pacific islanders and other primitive peoples. There are only
seven public houses on the island, and these are under ex-
cellent regulations.

The outlook for Samoa under the present arrangement be-
tween America, Germany, and England is bad. America should
withdraw from it. Of the entire revenue of $35,000 there are
$27,000 paid in salaries. Chief-Justice Ide, whose duties are
about on a level with those of an American justice of the
peace, receives $6,oco in gold, and old Peter Schmidt, whose
duties are about those of the mayor of a country town in
America, gobbles up $5,000 a great outrage on the people in
both cases. Outside the individual Ide, only the Germans bene-
fit by the arrangement.

The natives have their folk lore, legends, and peculiar be-
liefs, one of which leads to the custom of shaving the heads of
the children, all but a top-knot, which presents a unique ap-
pearance. This is done so that if the child should die the an-
gels would have something to take hold of to bear it off to
heaven.

In addition to the ordinary sights, of course Vailima, the
home of the late Robert Louis Stevenson, stands forward a
place of interest to the traveller. But so much has been writ-
ten about it that there is nothing left to say except to cor-
rect many of the extravagant stories told of the barbaric mag-
nificence and ideal delights of Stevenson's life there. This would
be an ungracious task. As it hurts nobody let the pleasant
fiction pass.

A week spent in Samoa will in many ways be an event in
one's life, and in the rush and hurry of life will be something
to look back on ; the very memory of its peace, its stillness,
its lassitude will give rest to the mind.

1 897.]

THE VICAR' s HAM.

759

THE VICAR'S HAM.

BY DOROTHY GRESHAM.

COLD, frosty afternoon early in December, with
a Christmas feel in the air. I am busy over my
home letters when Kitty comes. You never see
her but you think how happy she is her face
seems a reflection of all' that is pure and glad in
this world ; but now she is radiant. The walk across the hills
in the keen, biting air has intensified all her own brightness ;
her eyes are brilliant and dancing, her cheeks living roses. As
she stands laughing in the doorway she is indeed "the purtiest
girl in Tipperary," winsome and lovable. She greets me with
raillery and scorn, finding me sitting indoors on such a day as
this. Seeing my piles of correspondence, she cries :

" I should not write a letter this evening no, not even to
the queen herself, much as I know she pines for it. You are
nothing but a poor house-plant, Dolly ; how can you stay in-
doors ?"

I am disgusted, and retort : " I suppose you want me to live
on the hills and in the mud, as you do ; thank you, I have no
desire of making a gypsy of myself, like other people."

" Poor Dolly ! she is cross close rooms, hot fires, and letters
are too much for her ; but we shall teach her better in time,"
she says so sweetly, standing over me, that I am disarmed.
Nell comes in and greets her with joy ; every one is glad to
see Kitty she brings sunshine ever in her train. Kitty wants
to know if Nell and I will go with them Aunt Eva and her-
self to see Gerald to-morrow; adding: "Mother wrote that I
was to see what he wanted for Christmas."

I am enchanted, and Nell accepts with great pleasure. We
sit chatting for some time, when Kitty suggests we should walk
back a part of the road with her, and we do. It is bracing,
clear, invigorating, and I silently agree with my late antagonist
that it was a shame to lose this priceless air.

We leave her half way across the hills, and she starts off
in a brisk race when we turn homewards. I ask Nell all about
" Gerald," and she tells me he and Kevin were friends from
boyhood ; in mischief from morn till night, they were loyal in
all misfortunes. When the great break came, and their roads

760 THE VICAR" s HAM. [Mar.,

in life lay so far apart, Father Gerald going to Maynooth and
Kevin to Trinity, the old friendship was strong as ever. " I
have great respect, nay, reverence," Nell goes on, " for. Father
Gerald, for owing to his life and unconscious influence Kevin is
the upright, unselfish, good man he is to-day. In his temptations
and trials he has always sought the friend of his childhood,
sure of his sympathy and encouragement. There is material in
him for your Francis de Sales ; but you can judge for yourself.
I shall say no more to-night, as I should be sorry if you were
disappointed."

The sun comes glinting and flashing through the long win-
dows next morning, flushing the old house, and peeping through
corners and stairways. Con arrives triumphant with Aunt Eva
and Kitty, and we all set off to storm Father Gerald in his
mountain hermitage. It is eight miles up a winding, hilly coun-
try, and the horses' feet sound merrily on the hard, frozen road.
It is a lovely drive, and though the woods are bare it only
serves to show the mediaeval towers and manor houses rising
along the mountains. The roads are wild beyond words: deep
gorges on either side, and beyond the bleak mountains are huge
patches of furze and broom. We walk when the road is very
steep, and revel in grand expanses of mountains. Far behind,
over the spires of the town in the valley, we catch sight of a
silvery streak, which Aunt Eva tells me is the lordly Shannon
flowing idly to the sea. We come to a long, steep, rugged
hill, and this Con says " is the last.'' We climb upwards, Aunt
Eva, Nell, and Kitty tramping along with a vigor and zest as
if they enjoyed it ; and oh ! I feel how much I have yet to
learn in pedestrianism. We reach the top and then descend
an almost perpendicular sweep to the house ; it is hard work
to keep from running down the incline, but we tread our
stony way cautiously.

Down below I catch a passing view of a tall, black figure
coming through the fields on his way to the road. His great
strides bring him to a high stone wall, and I wonder how he
is going over it ; he quickly settles the question by laying his
hand on the top and vaulting over with the ease and agility
of a trained athlete. I point him out to the others as he comes
up the road with a rapidity that amazes me. He is tall, now
that he comes nearer very tall and erect ; letters are peeping
from every pocket ; he is buried in one, while a paper is hugged
affectionately under one arm.

"Why, it is old Gerald!' cries Kitty; " now we shall sur-

1 897.] THE VICAR' s HAM. 761

prise him." I look now intently before he sees us. He must
be over six feet, thin and ascetic, though the face is brown
and weather-beaten, as if it were constantly battling with the
mountain blasts. He is dressed for the road high black cloth
gaiters and great thick boots. We go towards him silently,
and meet him as he nears his little gate. He raises his eyes
and sees us. A cheery greeting from Kitty, and Father Gerald
is overcome.

He hails Aunt Eva with " Why did you not write me you
were coming? It is fortunate you caught me home. I have
only come from the station, and have just been to the post
fearing there might be something to answer before I got back
from the schools. Why did you not tell me?' He adds, smil-
ing, " I do not want Mrs. Fortescue to starve."

Aunt Eva answers, her eyes twinkling, " Because I was sure
if I did you would advise us to stay at home." His reverence
laughs and does not deny the soft impeachment, but to prove
it a libel leads us to the house.

All the while I remain silent can you believe it? And
then Nell says : " Father Gerald, this is Dolly, and blame her
for our invasion ; she would see one of Lever's priests at
home."

He looks down on me from his towering height quizzingly
as he takes my hand in his kindly, while he says : " I fear
Miss Dolly will have to travel far to find that personage, for
he exists only in Lever's imagination. What do you say, Mrs.
Fortescue ? '

" That I think Dolly had better see for herself ; and so the
invasion."

We go through the gate : a green plot, some flower-beds, a
low wall dividing it from the chapel, and we enter the house.
It is a tiny cottage, plain but cozy ; a small hall leads to the
parlor, with Father Gerald's personality everywhere. A bright
fire, a table in the centre covered with books and magazines, a
few school-girl water-colors no doubt Kitty's a good portrait
of Cardinal Manning, and a large, handsome picture of Father
Gerald's Maynooth class ornament the walls. In one corner,
evidently the sanctum, is a small desk covered with a huge
open Bible, flanked on either side by a copy of the Fathers ;
in another Father Gerald's few books reign supreme. I see
Shakspere, Manning, Bacon, Newman, Gibbons, Macaulay, Ulla-
thorne, St. Alphonsus, and copies and copies of St. Francis de
Sales !

762 THE VICAR" s HAM. [Mar.,

While I am inspecting, Father Gerald has gone to tell Judy
of our arrival, and she comes, all smiles and courtesies, her cap
a study in starch. She kisses Aunt Eva's and Nell's hands
with deep affection, and her eyes glisten with admiration when
Kitty steals out from behind Aunt Eva's bonnet. The old soul
is blissful, and hobbles off to furbish up dinner, and we all sep-
arate : Aunt Eva, Nell, and I go down the road to see Betty
Cooney, an old Desmond retainer ; Kitty to find out the wants
of the household ; while Father Gerald reads his office, that he
may be free on our return.

Two hours. later we reach Father Gerald's as a jaunting car
stops at the gate, and to our astonishment off jumps Father
Tom. In a burst of mutual surprise and pleasure we reach the
door, to be met by Father Gerald, who receives Father Tom
with as much joy and reverence as if he were his father, while
the old priest submits to all his attentions as from a dearly
loved son. He is in his favorite chair, and begins :

" I met Father John O'Connor coming from the station, and
he wanted me to go home with him ; but I thought Father
Gerald needed looking after. We both decided that he did, and
now, when Father John comes, I fear he will be so horrified at
this assemblage that he will fly ! "

A burst of joy greets this announcement, for Father John
is the wittiest, merriest, pleasantest old priest in the world,
and Aunt Eva's best friend in the county.

Judy has dinner served, and we only await Father O'Connor.
Smiling, rosy, and hearty from the sharp mountain wind, he
comes. We meet him and his curate, Father Terence O'Reilly,
in the doorway and gather round the table. Jokes fly from
mouth to mouth, the fire crackles and shines on the fine, digni-
fied old face of Father John. He twits Father Gerald, charges
on Aunt Eva, teases Kitty, with Nell to help him in all his
onslaughts. A delicious Irish ham and chickens are our fare,
and with my mountain appetite Delmonico's rarest confections
are not to be compared to old Judy's dinner.

" Where did you get this Limerick dainty ? ' Father Tom
asks, pointing to the porker.

" Yes, Father Gerald, where did you get it ? " chimes in Nell
-too polite to add what every one knows she thinks : so much
better than he generally has.

A broad smile is the only response at first, and then-

"I thought you had better eat it first before I told you;
but now since you ask, it came yesterday from the Vicar!"

1897-] THE VICAR'S HAM. 763

The three priests drop their knives; Aunt Eva looks at her
nephew as if he were romancing, while Kitty has hard work to
keep her laughter from bubbling over.

" How was that ?' demands Father Tom ; "you do not mean
to say you asked him for it."

" Yes ; that is it, so he thinks, and I have not undeceived
him yet."

Father O'Connor looks aghast, his eyes laughing with mis-
chief ; this is something new. The vicar-general is the most aus-
tere and reserved of men, and to be asked for a ham by a curate
is too much for Father Gerald's guests. We are all eager for
the explanation, and he gives it thus :

" I was in a great hurry going to a sick-call when Judy
came to tell me there was nothing in the house, and asked me
to write home for a ham, as then she could manage. I wrote
a hasty note to the mother and a short, carefully written letter
in Latin to the vicar, asking for dispensations priding myself
on my production. In my rush the epistles found their way
into the wrong envelopes ; and so, my friends, your unexpected
delicacy."

Father Gerald is so apologetic as he relates his misfortunes
that we laugh till the tears come Father Tom as much as any
of us. Father O'Connor thinks it is the best joke on the holy
old vicar he has heard in a year ; but Father O'Reilly rejoices
that he is not in such a predicament. This sets all the Irish
spirits going, and I enjoy an exhibition of native humor rare
to a foreigner. The old priests begin, and it is an education to
hear their language ; wit the most refined seems to spring from
their mirth-loving souls, as water from a fountain. I am drink-
ing it all in with deepest enjoyment ; Aunt Eva sparkles, and
Nell's American vivacity comes into full play. We never leave
that one little room from three o'clock till eight, and not one
moment but is fraught with most exquisite pleasure.

The clock on the mantel-piece warns us we must away ; we
have a long mountain-road before us. We break up reluctantly,
and Aunt Eva goes away happy, for Father Tom has promised
that this year, instead of having the priests with him on Christ-
mas day, they will dine at Cruskeen, holding his own party on
Little Christmas, when Uncle Desmond and Kevin can be there.

By the light of the stars we go down the mountains, reach-
ing Dungar in safety. The result of our invasion is that I must
acknowledge to myself that though Lever may be very amusing,
he knows little if anything of the Soggarth Aroon.

764 A RECENT ATTACK ON THE CHURCH. [Mar.,

A RECENT ATTACK ON THE CHURCH.

t
BY CHARLESON SHANE.

FEW months ago appeared the third and last
volume of Mr. Charles H. Lea's History of Auri-
cular Confession and Indulgences in the Latin
Church. The brief notice we shall here give it is
the result of a chance remark on the great and
evil influences likely to be exercised by the above work. There
is, indeed, a possibility of its doing considerable harm ; but just
why it will do so, and in what way these consequences might
be minimized or avoided, all do not clearly appreciate.

The first two volumes of this publication make up the his-
tory of Confession and Absolution, and the third, lately issued,
is devoted to Indulgences. The whole work presents a range
of matter, a confidence of tone, and an appearance of erudition
calculated to awe the common reader, and to frighten away
men willing to investigate, but busied with other tasks. There-
in lies the great danger. With every half-hour of intelligent
and critical reading would come confidence in one's self and a
sense of superiority over the writer, for the book will be found
a large and badly picked collection of all historic events and
literary testimonies that the writer thinks will tell against the
Sacrament of Penance. We do not say all the passages that
exist ; for in the author's previous performances one sees no
promise of more than a random choice of witnesses and an
ignoring of noted writers in short, general defects in training
and scholarship.

For these volumes are not Mr. Lea's first bid for pre-emi-
nence in anti-Catholic polemics. Others have appeared from
his pen, under such titles as The Inquisition, Clerical Celibacy,
Religious History of Spain, Superstition and Force, all inspired
by a desire utterly to unveil the half-known or unsuspected hide-
ousness of the Catholic Church and her institutions. Then, too,
in various magazines Mr. Lea has exhibited his predilection for
battles with our apologists. In the Forum of February, 1890,
he tilted against the loyalty of American Catholics somewhat
in the fashion so common on the morrow of the Vatican Coun-
cil a quarter century ago. A few years later the International

1 897.] A RECENT ATTACK ON THE CHURCH. 765

Journal of Ethics for April, 1894, contained an article on Occult
Compensation, intended to show the inconsistency, fraud, and lax
morality of theologians honored in the church. The same periodi-
cal, a year later, published Mr. Lea's views on Philosophical Sin,
another attack on Catholic doctrine. And in 1894 the Yale Re-
view printed Mr. Lea's observations on the Catholic teaching
about usury. So, all in all, this gentleman has doubtless, like
the Dudleian lecturers at Harvard, dreamed himself specially
called " for the purpose of detecting and correcting and ex-
posing the idolatry of the Roman Church, its tyranny, usurpa-
tions, damnable heresies, fatal errors, superstitions, and other
crying wickedness in its high places." *

Having thus unpleasantly forced himself on the attention of
Catholics, Mr. Lea did not pass unnoticed and unchallenged.
The Religious History of Spain was commented upon by that
distinguished scholar, Dr. Thomas Bouquillon, professor at the
Catholic University; and the same writer remarked on the two
articles of the International four nal of Ethics. The article in the
Forum drew from Bishop Keane a reply published in the American
Catholic Quarterly Review, "Loyalty to Rome and Country." f

A review of the Religious History of Spaing made it quite
evident that said author's scholarship would not bear close
scrutiny, his references being very much and very badly bor-
rowed, his quotations inaccurate, and his statements untenable.
A critique published by Dr. Bouquillon in the Catholic Uni-
versity Bulletin of October, 1895, pointed out some grave de-
fects in the article on Philosophic Sin. In a very few pages a
verdict clear, concise, and of cutting precision indicated the
hollowness of Mr. Lea's pretension to reliable erudition. False
assertions, points of view inaccurate and distorted, glaringly
wrong conceptions, are picked out from the latter gentleman's
writing, and exposed, not in unsubstantial declamation but by
mere comparison of certified facts with all the various state-
ments advanced. Nor does the bill of indictment cease with
these, for Mr. Lea's ipsissima verba are cited time and again in
such wise as to prove him, beyond all doubt, inaccurate, slovenly,
and unscholarly in his references, unsure in historical statements,
inconsistent, uncritical, illogical, and confused let us insist that
each of our adjectives is .carefully chosen, and our apparently
sweeping assertions must be uncondemned unless an examina-
tion of the pages cited should find our words unsupported. Of

* Extract from last will and testament of Judge Paul Dudley.

f American Catholic Quarterly Review, vol. xv. p. 131. \Ibid., vol. xvi. p. 131.

VOL. LXIV. 49

766 A RECENT ATTACK ON THE CHURCH. [Mar.,

such result we have no fear, for the little notice, if Mr. Lea
had but realized the fact, gave him his coup de grace.

Again, in January, 1896, the Bulletin contained a notice
from the same pen, this time of Mr. Lea's article on Occult
Compensation. Once more is the latter writer convicted of
scientific vagrancy and misdemeanor ; he boldly ignores leading
principles, he cites authorities utterly at random, and quite dis-
penses with the methods and the distinctions necessary to his
subject. The critique concludes with words that may most ap-
propriately be quoted here. When Mr. Lea's " readers learn
how in a particular question his erudition has failed of breadth>
his criticism of accuracy, and his philosophy of depth, doubtless
they will begin to ask themselves just what sort of authority they
are to attribute to those big books on ecclesiastical celibacy,
the Inquisition, and so forth."

The volume before us has been written with a purpose ; criti-
cal examination will not induce us to believe that the writer's
theories have been always held secondarily to facts ; wherefore
we purpose to pass some comment upon it.

And first, let us recommend a vital consideration to the
careful thought of Mr. Lea and his like, and to all those who
may be influenced by his words ; which consideration is, that
the divinity of the church does not stand and fall with the
universal sanctity of her members, nor with the beneficial
effects of existing institutions. Her claim on us is based upon
proof of totally different character. And it might be a subject
of further reflection that accidental evils do not damn a system.
In eradicating abuses the great question is, What caused them?
If a man becomes intoxicated on his way home from church, it
does not follow that destruction of churches would insure a
sober population. Conscious of this, we assert that the damaging
facts presented in this book might be multiplied many times
over without, we will not say injuring the church, but without
negativing her claim to divinity. Nevertheless, while so con-
tending we are far, very far, from admitting the pertinence or
veracity of the writer's work, and hope that a complete and de-
tailed answer may be prepared in the near future ; for even if
the battle be all upon ground long since fought over, a clear
expose' of principles and of facts that are facts will not be with-
out good effect on the chance reader.

For, after all, Mr. Lea's work is indeed discouraging; not
because he has picked out many a flaw in the human make-up
of the church, not because he has shown by countless examples

1 897.] A RECENT ATTACK ON THE CHURCH. 767

the selfishness and wickedness of the heart of man, the vile
abuse of sacred things these we had reflected on before. But
when a writer can produce three such volumes and have no
word, or let us say scarcely a word, for the benefits, the evi-
dent and acknowledged benefits, of the Sacrament of Penance,
then we find our sole consolation in the fact that his is not a
predominant type, and some men are open to conviction that
through the sacramental system real conversions have been
wrought and crimes averted, lust cleansed away, occasions
of sin abolished, restitution made, hope and charity infused
into hardened sinners. We do not say such effects take
place in every heart, nor in any without personal co-operation,
but the wide-awake Protestant who has Catholic acquaintances
can usually give testimony on the value of their religion. Mr.
Lea, however, will see naught of this, being busied with the
dark side alone. Flaws and defects are his theme, and his
efforts are merely destructive. There are so many questions of
moment to bother us now, so many mortal ills crying for
quickness of minfd, and strength of arm, and human hearts, that
one cannot but wish these were the centres of the energy that
is daily generated in the cause of discord. For every wasted
or misdirected exertion the world is still the poorer. Suppose
all or almost all Mr. Lea says were true, the Catholic Church
is still the church of the centuries, still divine in claim, ques-
tioning the loyalty of every man who cometh into this world,
for he has left untouched the vital issue.

And now lest it occur to some that our treatment has been
rather a priori and summary, and too little definite, it behooves
us to offer specimen defects of the present volume. Let it be
well understood that we confine ourselves to a few instances
gathered as chance presented them. What would be revealed
by methodic sifting ^of the contents of the three volumes, is a
fair subject for our readers' speculation ; we disclaim all inten-
tion of detailed examination. First we shall take an example
of the writer's powers from the chapter on Probabilism in the
second volume, a section that happens to possess some special
interest for us, and a field whereon a greater than Mr. Lea has
recently entered only to go astray.* Not to touch any of the
questions of technical theology misunderstood and confused by
Mr. Lea,f let us compare his reading of theologians with the

* See the last chapter of Mr. Gladstone's Aids to the Study of Butler.
t One such question is the extent to which ignorance excuses from sin. Its treatment
gives no evidence of critical acumen in the author.

768 A RECENT ATTACK ON THE CHURCH. [Mar.,

opinions really expressed by the unfortunate writers. We are
told, for example, that " La Croix unconsciously reveals how
far the moralists had strayed from the commands of Christ,
when ... he points out that tutiorism (or always following
the safer line of conduct) would actually oblige us to refer all
our actions to God and to embrace all the counsels of the
Gospels or, in other words, that it would conduce to a revival
of true Christianity." We give our readers the reference* in
La Croix below, though in this case reference is superfluous.
Mr. Lea is evidently and unmistakably ignorant of what ninety-
nine out of a hundred ordinarily instructed Catholic children
could teach him and that is the meaning of the simple little
word " counsel."

A passage f that drew our attention was the quotation from
Pope Alexander II. by means of which Mr. Lea, with amazing
ease and brevity, makes the point he has set out to prove. We
premise that he allows the expression "remission of sins' to
have been commonly used as meaning " remission of penance."
The passage cited from the pope's letter, translated, is substan-
tially as follows : *' We, by our apostolic authority, give remission of
sins to those who have confessed to their own bishop or spiritual father
and have received a fitting penance" Mr. Lea is in process of
proving that indulgences were sometimes considered to remit
guilt as well as punishment ; what could be easier than to con-
clude from the above passage, as he actually does, that the papal
" absolution ' therein mentioned is the only one granted, that
in this instance the phrase " remission of sins ' means pardon
of guilt, and consequently that the point is made. We do not
mean no other instances are offered in proof, but we present
this argument as being indicative of the pleader's style. It is
as who should say a father promising a blessing to his son if
successful in a scholastic contest does thereby constitute him-
self judge of his child's ability.

Briefly to mention another point. In chapter ii. Mr. Lea
writes that " we have seen how deplorably lax was the distribu-
tion of the treasure (of merits) prior to the Reformation, and
how the payment of the required sum was virtually all that was
regarded as essential." It is but a few pages back, he quotes
Alanus and Aquinas J as insisting on the state of grace to be
a necessary prerequisite, and himself says, in so many words,

* La Croix, Theol. Mor., 1. i. n. 487. A considerable portion of the passage is omitted
by Mr. Lea. Given entire we think its true sense would have been more apparent,
t Vol. iii. p. 54. \ Pre-Reformation writers, of course.

1897-] A RECENT ATTACK ON THE CHURCH. 769

"in theory at least the church has consistently held that they
(indulgences) are good as against the temporal punishment only
after the culpa has been removed by the sacrament, and that
consequently their full benefit can only be enjoyed by him who
is free from mortal sin." Is it fair to decry the system and
principles of indulgences because abuses come from neglect of
theological teaching^ conciliar decrees, and papal letters? Is it
fair again, after mentioning these authorities, to go on and argue
as though they did not exist ?

The chapter on Influence of Indulgences, last but one in
the same volume, gives us the opportunity to pass a few more
general comments upon the author's characteristic weaknesses.
First, we remark that when statements reasonably clear in them-
selves present an opening for a far-fetched and unusual inter-
pretation Mr. Lea sometimes chooses the latter for no better
apparent reason than that he has discovered the hidden meaning
by using his thesis as a search-light. Thus, when Catarino is
quoted as having answered "the Lutheran argument that indul-
gences made men indifferent to the performances of good works,
by saying that this arose from the malice of those who abuse
the goodness and liberality of God," Mr. Lea's appended com-
ment is, "this malice apparently being no impediment to the
enjoyment of the pardon." We submit that nothing of the
sort is apparent, and that it is poor science to go out of one's
way to find a strained interpretation which supposes the origi-
nal writer self-contradicted and stultified even though such
interpretation favors our cherished opinions.

And so all, or nearly all, sound Catholic writers cited as
preaching against the abuse of indulgences are supposed hostile
to the use of them. So, again, if ecclesiastics are bidden or
bound to abstain from the use of special concessions, this, is
declared to be because " prelates, who were quite satisfied that
laymen should purchase and enjoy indulgences, had found reason
to dread their effects upon the clergy' (p. 570). And finally,
with similar confidence, a quotation from Cardinal Wisem'an as
to the fervor and devotion of the crowds in Rome at the jubi-
lee of 1825 is followed up by the weighty consideration that "the
cardinal could only look upon the surface and could not know
what might be going on beneath it"; a statement that places
Mr. Lea at liberty to pursue an a priori train of nasty suspi-
cions about the excesses unavoidable in a large crowd of men
and women assembled on such occasions though the good car-
dinal, who was present, of course knew none of these things.

770 A RECENT A 7' TACK ON THE CHUKCH. [Mar.,

And so page follows page, and chapter succeeds chapter,
and when the last volume is completed the writer has said all
that he wished to say and rests his case, presumably waiting
for the verdict of those whose judgment he esteems. But it
would be unreasonable to suppose that Mr. Lea's methods are
known only to his victims. Weighed in the scales of disinter-
ested criticism he has been found wanting, and the world at
large recognizes Mr. Lea as representative of a day that is gone
and a spirit that is dead or dying. Witness the dispassionate
verdict of the London Athenceum* which in reviewing Mr. Lea's
second volume passed the following strictures : " The chapter
on Probabilism and Casuistry is a confused and commonplace
attack on doctrines held by Catholic writers, and sometimes a
travesty of them. . . . An anti-popery lecturer could not
do much better. . . . How the historian may descend to
the base uses of partisanship is further shown in the chapter,
Influence of Confession. Amidst statistics he contrives to show
his Protestant fanaticism."

Mr. Lea seems to have profited little or nothing by previous
corrections. Let us hope he will take to heart the words just
quoted.

If he does not, if we find him reappearing with calm con-
fidence in his powers, and with enviable coolness actually reiter-
ating the very mistakes already exposed in public print, then
Catholics cannot be altogether excused from blame for per-
mitting such offences. So many attacks nowadays go un-
punished that assailants have come to reckon on immunity.
Had we our way this barefaced ignoring of answer and rebuke
would be the occasion of a mighty outcry, sounding unto the
end of the land and stirring public opinion in such wise as to
make some luckless offenders hide diminished heads. We do
not plead for an unmeaning storm of abuse, which would be as
useless as unbecoming ; we ask, rather, something in the line of
the criticisms above mentioned careful, precise, and scholarly
charges, pressed home with all the telling force of evident
truth. We have the resources ; too often, unfortunately, we
have the opportunity, and most certainly many in our ranks
possess the ability requisite to deal mighty blows in defence of
our Mother. If the energy and learning wasted in idle inter-
necine controversy were saved and thus put to use, the bene-
fits would not be far to seek. Attacks on the church would be
more costly, and consequently less in demand among men of

* September 19, 1896.

1 897.]

REPENTANCE.

771

reputation, if these realized they would have to stand over
every injurious statement and offer evidence acceptable in the
judgment of science. Surely, it does seem as though this con-
dition of things could be brought about by judicious and un-
selfish use of the gifts of our present generation. Many men
clear in mind and trained to think, able to do yeoman's work,
pass through life and die with little or nothing to show as
evidence of having loved a church that is suffering siege. Per-
haps this is because some of us have not yet mastered the
double truth which Von Jhering makes the thesis of his little
volume, Der Kampf urn's Recht, viz., the defence of one's rights
is a duty towards self and also a duty towards society.

REPENTANCE.

BY JESSIE WILLIS BRODHEAD.

IS said that young Apollo energized

The old Greek worship with a single note
Which fell from his impassioned lyre, and wrote
The music of Repentance. Focalized
Within the heart of man, the hymn rolled on
From age to age ; its note, reverberate
With healing woe, which Christ shall consecrate
To swell the rising Christian antiphon.

Repentance! Ah! the deep, resistless breath
Which stirs like angel's wing Bethesda's pool-
The waters shadowed by sin's crepuscule,

Lest they congeal into eternal death.

The crystal note wrung from Apollo's lyre

Melts in the music-streams of Christian choir.

ELEANOR C. DONNELLY.

THE PERSONALITY OF A FAVORITE POET.

'EW contemporaneous workers in American Catho-
lic literature are better known or more deserved-
ly appreciated than Eleanor C. Donnelly.

No Catholic poet of our land and day has
done more for the glory of the church and the
extension ol pure, melodious, faith-inspired numbers than this
gifted and prolific writer of the city of Penn.

. Towards the middle of the present century, Eleanor Cecilia
Donnelly, sixth child of the late Dr. Philip Carroll and Catharine
Gavin Donnelly, was born in Philadelphia (to quote from one
of her own poems),

" Within the sound, the magic spell
Of blessed Independence Bell,
And Continental echoes sweet."

Her father was a broad-minded, scholarly Irish gentleman,
whose birth-place in " sweet Tyrone ' was close to that of the
late Archbishop Hughes. Dr. Donnelly is said to have been a
devoted lover of truth, a total abstainer from both liquor and
tobacco, and a man of such singular purity of character that
an immodest word uttered in his presence would cause him to
blush like a girl. He "early fell a martyr to his profession,
dying of typhus fever contracted from a patient, and leaving
the legacy of his virtues to his two sons and four daughters-
a fifth girl being still unborn.

1897-] THE PERSONALITY OF A FAVORITE POET. 773

His widow, a native of Philadelphia, claimed relationship
with Right Rev. Dr. Maginn, once-famous bishop and polemic
of Derry, Ireland. She was a woman of rare parts of sound
judgment and force of character. Although widowed in the
bloom of her womanhood, she never re-married, but, laying
aside every personal ornament and retaining the strict severity
of her mourning dress until her death in 1887, devoted her-
self to the careful training of her gifted family, and cultivated
with great wisdom and firmness the gifts Heaven had so
abundantly bestowed upon them. Her home became a veritable
abode of the arts. Music, painting, and poesy were the presid-
ing geniuses of her hearthstone. All of her daughters were
musicians the eldest, Sarah, an artist of marked talent and as
linguists they excelled in translation of works from the German,
French, and Italian. But only one other of the family beside
Eleanor has achieved world-wide distinction in the field of
letters, and he is that many-sided genius, Honorable Ignatius
Donnelly, ex-lieutenant-governor of Minnesota, and ofttimes
representative of his adopted State in the halls of our national
legislature. As the author of Atlantis, Ragnarok, Ccesar's
Column, Dr. Huguet, and other scientific or purely imaginative
works Mr. Donnelly is widely known on both sides of the
Atlantic ; but his distinctive fame is grounded on his prodigious
contribution to the Bacon-Shakspere controversy, known as
the Great Cryptogram.

Ignatius Donnelly was the first to recognize and cultivate
his .little sister's poetic gift. To the precocious Eleanor, who
(like Pope) " lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came," he gave
her first lessons in technique. " One of my earliest recollec-
tions," says Miss Donnelly, " is of going to my elder brother's
study to be trained in the occult mysteries of metre. What
can a child of eight or ten know of prosody or poetic feet?
Yet I have a distinct remembrance of standing a tiny girl-
by Ignatius' writing-table, and being shown by him with great
kindness and patience how to reckon on my fingers the correct
number of syllables in a given line."

How well the big brother taught, and how well the little
sister profited, may be recognized in Eleanor C. Donnelly's ex-
quisite musical measures, characterized as they are (to quote a
distinguished European reviewer*) by " a great variety of metres
-often difficult metres requiring consummate rhyming skill."

Miss Donnelly's life has been passed with her family in the

* Dr. Russell of Dublin.

774

THE PERSONALITY OF A FAVORITE POET. [Mar.,

old colonial quarter of Philadelphia. For many years she lived
close to the ancient Pine Street site of the Acadians' (Evange-
line's Acadians) camping-ground of the eighteenth century.
Her present beautiful home is within a stone's throw of the
new hall of the American Catholic Historical Society on Spruce
Street, an organization of which she is a devoted and active
member. Her summers are passed with her sisters at her little
cottage at Sea Isle City, N. J. Hers has been indeed (as an
appreciative writer has said of her) " the happy lot of but few
poets the care, the shelter, the ready sympathy of kindred
spirits, who are also kin. She has been free to work out her
beautiful and blessed tasks, while she has been tenderly bound

to the actual life of a more pro-
saic world. The result is a most
lovely character, in which the
exaltation of the poet is strength-
ened and finely tempered with
all human sympathies and gen-
tle home virtues."

The literary activity of Elea-
nor C. Donnelly is only partial-
ly represented by a list of her
published works. From her
early girlhood she has been a
most generous contributor to
our magazines and journals at
home and abroad ; and, while
many years of her life have
been unobtrusively devoted to
literary criticism and analysis,
she has ever proved herself a

kind and patient friend to literary tyros, ever ready to cheer
and counsel young writers who appeal to her for direction or
encouragement. Her name appears on the title-page of
Out of Sweet Solitude (1873), Legend of the Best Beloved (1881 ;
republished in 1892 in one volume as Poems), Domus Dei,
Crowned with Stars, Conversion of St. Augustine and other Poems,
Children of the Golden Sheaf and other Poems, two volumes of
Hymns of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, A Garland of Festival
Songs (from the German), and a prose Life of Father Barbelin,
SJ. Of this last the late James A. McMaster, of the New
York Freeman s Journal, once wrote : " We do not know of a
late book that can be read with more interest, pleasure, and

HON. IGNATIUS DONNELLY.

1897-] THE PERSONALITY OF A FAVORITE POET. 775

edification than this exceedingly pathetic but very amusing
book. Tears and laughter are near together on almost every
page."

Besides compiling and editing Pearls from the Casket of the
Sacred Heart of Jesus, Liguori Leaflets, Our Birthday Bouquet,
and Little Compliments of the Season, Miss Donnelly's latest
original contributions to our literature are Petronilla and other
Stories (which the editor of the Irish Monthly pronounced
" the most beautiful story-book within and without that has
come to us across the Atlantic for many a day "), A Tuscan
Magdalen and other Legends and Poems, and two story-books
for children, entitled Amys Music Box and The Lost Christmas
Tree.

" In her legendary themes and her devout spirit," says Dr.
Russell, " Eleanor Donnelly resembles Adelaide Anne Procter ;
but our Irish-American poet is without a trace of that melan-
choly which perhaps the shadow of early death infused into
the author of Legends and Lyrics. . . . Miss Donnelly is
Miss Procter's equal in purity of thought and melody of ex-
pression. She surpasses her in the buoyancy of her hopes and
the cheerfulness of her muse."

Comparison has frequently been instituted, also, between the
creations of Longfellow and Eleanor C. Donnelly. The latter's
treatment of the legend in poesy (according to the critic of the
Philadelphia Evening Telegraph) " shows the same refined taste
as Mr. Longfellow's in the selection of themes, the same sim-
ple directness of style, the same rhythmical movement, and the
same graceful feeling for picturesqueness."

The editor of the Angelus magazine, in a recent study of
Eleanor Donnelly's work, has not hesitated to declare that
" it would not be difficult to select a dozen poems from her
pen that would rank with a like number by the author of
Ey&ngeline"

Another writer in Woman s Progress has even gone so far as
to claim that Miss Donnelly's Vision of the Monk Gabriel fur-
nished Mr. Longfellow with his theme for the Legend Beautiful,
written eight years later. Shortly after the appearance of the
latter the Boston Commonwealth printed both poems side by
side, in extenso, with the comment that they revealed " an
identity of thought and similarity of expression ' which were
singular.

It was to Eleanor C. Donnelly that the American Catholic
Historical Society, in 1887, entrusted the composition of an

776 THE PERSONALITY OF A FAVORITE POET. [Mar.,

Ode for Philadelphia's Centennial Celebration of the adoption
of our national Constitution, and again, of the Columbian Ode
for her native city's commemoration (October, 1892) of the
Quadricentennial of the Discovery of America.

She has more than once been specially honored by Rome ;
and she was selected to prepare the Ode for the Golden Jubi-
lee of the priesthood of Pope Leo XIII., as well as for that
of his episcopacy. In 1892 she was named by his excellency
the Governor of Pennsylvania as one of the auxiliaries to the
Woman's Board of Managers of the World's Fair.

Her latest notable effusions have been a requested poem
(The Catholic Wife and Mother) read before the World's Con-
gress of Representative Women in Chicago, May 18, 1893; a
paper on Woman s Work in Literature which she was appointed
to deliver before the Catholic Columbian Congress convened
in Chicago, September, 1893 ; and the much-admired ode, The
Drama Spiritualized, read by request before the convention in
the Woman's Building of the Cotton States and International
Exposition at Atlanta, Ga., November 26, 1895.

Miss Donnelly is an exquisite reader sui generis. Her full,
rich voice, trained to its best use, a clear enunciation, and a
singularly unaffected manner, add an especial charm to her
own poems, marked as they are with the perfect melody and
limpid simplicity of the true heaven-inspired singer.

A unique and noble position is that of Eleanor C. Donnelly
in the Catholic literature of the present day, and, while many
surmises have been hazarded by critics as to her future place
in American letters, the living quality of her work is certainly
assured. She has not prostituted her gift to profane or cor-
rupt catering to popular degenerate tastes. She has labored
singly and exclusively for the diffusion of that Truth to which
belongs " the eternal years of God." Her muse breathes only
the celestial, the immortal ; and the imperishability of the
Divine cannot but set its seal upon the songs of this gifted
woman, whose name (as some one has said) will only glow with
whiter splendor as the years recede and more favorable, be-
cause more Christian, conditions arise in our national literature.

1897-] DR. FULTON'S ANSWER TO THE POPE. 777

DR. FULTON'S ANSWER TO THE POPE.

BY JESSE ALBERT LOCKE.

'HE search for truth, amidst the confusing din
which rises in our human life, is often no simple
task. It would be easier if the disputants whose
eager voices reach our ears were always just
and fair to one another. But for this many
qualities of head and heart seem necessary. Not the least im-
portant element of the complex whole required is a certain
generosity of spirit which naturally assumes that one's opponent
may have as real a love of truth as one's self. It is not alone
the unnecessary irritation from acrid words which sting and
smart which is to be deplored when a controversialist refuses to
believe his adversary sincere, but that such an unhappy assump-
tion actually beclouds the reason and disturbs the logical faculty.
This is, doubtless, the reason of Dr. Fulton's failure to prove
himself a fair controversialist in his answer to the Pope's Bull
on Anglican orders. He charges His Holiness with insincerity
and deliberate predetermination to ignore the truth, a charge
which (as we have shown in a preceding article*) is refuted by
the plain facts in the history of the case, and repudiated by a
number of well-known leaders amongst the Anglicans themselves
who have commended the obvious candor and honesty of the
Pope. As a Christian gentleman and a minister of religion Dr.
Fulton would scarcely purpose consciously to be unfair, but
the heat of partisan zeal which made it possible for him to
bring such wholesale accusations against Leo XIII. has in
reality also made him most unfair in his treatment of this Bull,
and he has de facto seriously misrepresented the argument which
it contains. Such a temper of mind is an indirect evidence of
the strength of the Pope's position. One who feels the argument
for his cause to be invincible does not need to indulge in per-
sonal attacks. There is no vituperation of any one in the
calm words of Leo on this question.

THE POPE'S MOTIVE.

The presumption that the Pope would condemn Anglican
orders simply out of spite or unfriendliness is not only antece-

* " Anglican Answers to the Pope's Bull," .THE CATHOLIC WORLD, February, 1897.

778 DR. FULTON'S ANSWER TO THE POPE. [Mar.,

dently improbable but actually impossible. It is not a matter
hanging upon the wish or fancy of even the Pope, but a ques-
tion of fact. If Anglican orders are valid per se, the Pope can-
not make them invalid. Nor could he have any desire to do
so. The orders of the various Eastern sects and of such a
recent schism as the Jansenist Church in Holland are freely ac-
knowledged, and it would be a sacred duty to declare those of
the Anglican Church genuine if they really were so. As the
sacrament of orders cannot be repeated, it would involve the
sin of sacrilege for the Pope to decree that Anglican ordina-
tions should be considered null if their validity could be proved.
It is not unnatural, perhaps, that Anglicans in whose commu-
nion both those who believe in the reality of sacramental grace
and those who deny it may dwell together in peace whilst
teaching their mutually contradictory views should fail to un-
derstand the sensitiveness with which the (Catholic Church
guards the divine treasure of the sacraments; but if they did
realize this, they would see the absurdity of describing the
Holy Father's decision as " the assault upon our orders "; they
would not overlook Leo's manifest desire for conciliation and
the reunion of all Christians, and they would know that in this
matter he could not act with the object of attacking anybody,
but was bound down to the one duty of declaring the truth
whatever it might be.

I. HAS THE POPE ABANDONED HISTORY?

The first conclusion which Dr. Fulton draws from the
Papal document he expresses as follows : " In the present Bull
the Pope abandons the whole historical argument against the
Church of England." " For the admission of so much," he
adds, " we thank His Holiness." Were it not that this too
hasty rejoicing is an evident case of the wish being father to
the thought, and so overbearing the judgment, we should have
to characterize the statement as a most disingenuous misrepre-
sentation. The ladder by which Dr. Fulton climbs to the de-
sired result is as follows: (i) The Pope (he tells us) abandons
all historical argument (2) as valueless. But (3) Roman Catho-
lics have hitherto depended on these historic doubts to disprove
the validity of Anglican orders. Therefore (4) it is henceforth
admitted by the Pope and the Catholic Church that Angli-
can orders are historically "without a flaw." Unfortunately for
those who might draw comfort from the supposed admission,
not one of these four points is true, as may be easily shown.

1 897.] DR. FULTON'S ANSWER TO THE POPE. 779

DISTORTION OF THE POPE'S WORDS.

(1) Dr. Fulton tells us that the Pope abandons the histori-
cal argument, whereas the Pope has taken especial care to ex-
plain that he does not abandon it, because a position which has
never been taken cannot be abandoned. In referring to a pre-
cedent, the case of the Anglican Bishop Gordon, who became a
Catholic, and whose orders, after an examination in Rome in
1704, were declared to be invalid, the Pope says that the his-
torical doubts regarding the ordination of Parker (from whom
all Anglican orders are derived) were altogether set aside in
that decision because " the defect of form and intention ' was
alone sufficient to prove the invalidity.

A. JUDICIAL DECISION.

(2) It is hardly necessary to say that the next point falls
with the first. Leo XIII. has not said, nor in any possible way
implied, that historical objections to Anglican orders are now
disproved, and that therefore their historical regularity is now
" without a cloud." On the contrary, it is this very Anglican
perversion of the Catholic position that the Pope is guarding
against in alluding to the matter. Anglicans have been wont
to claim that the Catholic denial of their orders was based
chiefly on the doubts regarding the consecration of Barlow and
Parker, and so conveniently to hide themselves behind the cloud
of dust raised by discussing disputed historical questions and to
avoid the clear theological issues of defect of form and intention.
If a surrogate's court had proved satisfactorily that there was
no property whatsoever to inherit, it would certainly set aside
as immaterial the question of the contestant's genealogy and
refuse to occupy itself in the useless task of examining it. So
the Pope's Bull is not a controversial tract, nor a treatise upon
Anglican orders, but a judicial decision, which, like all judicial
decisions, confines itself to the point in hand, without taking up
irrelevant issues. But the Holy Father no more grants in this
case that Anglican orders are historically " without a flaw '
than a court would, in the instance given, admit the legitimacy
of the claimant's descent because it dismissed the question as
irrelevant.

WHAT THE HISTORY OF THE CONTROVERSY SHOWS.

(3) The next statement, viz., that Roman Catholics in their
argument against the Church of England "have mainly de-

780 DR. FULTON'S ANSWER TO THE POPE. [Mar.,

pended for the last three hundred years ' upon the " Nag's
Head ' story (the tale that the only ceremony of Archbishop
Parker's consecration was some sacrilegious buffoonery at an inn
of that name) and upon the doubts as to Barlow's consecra-
tion, shows our critic of the Pope to be unacquainted with the
history of this controversy. Even a slight acquaintance with
the earlier Catholic controversialists, such as Bonner, Harding,
Stapleton, Bristow, and Sanders, would have shown him that
they do not even mention the Nag's Head. Why should they
do so ? The Holy See had declared Anglican orders void in
1554, and the ordination of Parker (and so, of course, the al-
leged Nag's Head incident) did not occur until 1559.

Moreover, Kellfson and the Jesuit writers who first allude to
the story use it rather in illustration than proof, for they
ground the invalidity on defect of form and intention, just as
had been done from the beginning. Again, if Dr. Fulton had
ever seen the text of Bishop Gordon's petition to Rome in
1704, he would have known that, although Gordon does allude
to the Nag's Head story at that time current he dismisses it
as irrelevant and immaterial, Anglican orders being antecedently
invalid from defect of form, matter, and intention.

Nor could Dr. Fulton have made such a statement if he
had been familiar with the standard Catholic work on this sub-
ject, a work he seems never to have read. Estcourt * says :
"Whatever may have been the real facts with regard to Bar-
low or Parker, Catholics have nothing to gain from the discus-
sion. The principles for which they contend will remain un-
touched, even granting that Barlow was duly consecrated." Is
all this unknown to Dr. Fulton, or does he deliberately ignore it ?

AN ANGLICAN CANARD WHICH THRIVES.

There is this at least to be said in favor of Catholic writers :
the Nag's Head tale having been shown to be without proba-
ble foundation they have united in disproving it (as witness
Estcourt), whereas there is an Anglican invention which has
been shown conclusively to be equally a myth,f and yet is still
used by Anglican writers. This canard is the alleged offer of
Pope Pius IV. to Queen Elizabeth to sanction the Book of
Common Prayer and to allow communion in both kinds if she
would acknowledge his supremacy. In one of the most widely
circulated manuals intended to give a popular defence of the

* Anglican Ordinations^ p. 60. f Estcourt, Anglican Ordinations, chap. viii.

1 897-] D R * FULTON' s ANSWER TO THE POPE. 781

Episcopal Church * this story is still used and endorsed as
worthy of credence, the author saying of it : " I have never
seen the story controverted or even questioned." Yet Est-
court's expose of the worthlessness of the tale had been pub-
lished twelve years before the Rev. Mr. Little's book !

THE HISTORIC DOUBTS REMAIN.

There has been and there can be no dropping of the doubt
regarding Barlow's consecration ; that matter remains now just
where it was before i. e., in the greatest uncertainty. And it
must ever continue there for the following reasons: i. Barlow
was an irreligious time-server who did not believe in the necessity
of ordination, but who expressly declared (his exact words have
been quoted previously in this magazine) that the appointment
of the king was sufficient to make a man a bishop without any
laying on of hands. 2. He would naturally, therefore, have de-
sired to avoid a ceremony which he considered a farce ; and 3, he
had a good chance to do so, for he was given the possession of
the temporalities of his see while certainly not yet a bishop, the
grant confirming him in the enjoyment of these revenues *' dur-
ing the term of his natural life." 4. It is quite in accordance
with all this that Anglicans themselves cannot settle upon a
date upon which he was certainly consecrated ; and 5, the Lam-
beth Register, which contains the preliminary documents regard-
ing his nomination, etc., does not contain the record of his
consecration, which is missing. Any orders derived from such a
source could not lawfully be exercised in the Catholic Church,
which does not allow in any case the doubtful administration
of sacraments. But as Anglican orders are antecedently invalid
from inherent defects, the question of Barlow's consecration or
lack of it is of no material importance.

II. THE DEFECT OF FORM.

Dr. Fulton's second proposition (printed in bold capitals to
emphasize its startling character) is this : " The Pope's Bull
proves the invalidity of Roman orders because of a defect of
form." No wonder he adds, " This will surprise some of our
readers." But not only what surprise, what mournful regret
(should they ever hear of this) must seize the members of the
Roman Commission on Anglican orders, the Cardinals of the
Supreme Council, and the Holy Father himself, as they draw
the obvious inference that they might have saved themselves
from this catastrophe, from thus committing ecclesiastical sui-

* Reasons for being a Churchman. 1885. Rev. A. W. Little.
VOL. LXIV. 50

782 DR. FULTON'S ANSWER TO THE POPE. [Mar.,

cide, by the simple expedient of sending in time to Philadel-
phia, where there was one who could have told them what they
were doing. However, this distortion of the Pope's reasoning
has not only its humorous side but a melancholy one as well.
For, in addition to a failure to understand Catholic theology,
it is also built upon a misstatement of fact and a very serious
suppressio veri.

The argument is thus worked out: I. The Council of Trent
has defined what is the essential formula the necessary words
to be used to make the sacrament of orders valid. But the
Anglican service has this essential formula as well as the Ro-
man Pontifical, with which it is substantially identical. There-
fore, the Pope is wrong when he says that Anglican orders are
null from the indefiniteness of the form. Or, if the Pope is
right, no Roman Catholic priest has been validly ordained.
2. Moreover, the Pope is wrong again in saying that the grace
of the sacrament is signified chiefly by the form rather than
by the matter (the act, the imposition of hands), since the mat-
ter is of itself indefinite and must be determined by the form.
Dr. Fulton does not believe this because (a) no obligatory
form is recorded in the New Testament, and (b) different
churches have used different forms.

A TRIDENTINE CANON MISINTERPRETED.

Now, let us see what all this is worth. The corner-stone is
a mistake as to a matter of fact. Our Anglican critic quotes
this canon of the Council of Trent : " If any one saith that by
sacred ordination the Holy Ghost is not given ; and that vainly
therefore do the bishops say, Receive the Holy Ghost ; let him
be anathema." Therefore, he claims, according to the Council
of Trent, the only effectual form in the conferring of holy
orders is the formula, Receive the Holy Ghost. " Nothing else is
indispensable." Now, not only do the words of this canon by
no means necessarily imply such a conclusion for it is one
thing to say that it is heretical to deny that the Holy Ghost
is given, and quite another to say that the words "accipe
Spiritum Sanctum ' are the only necessary form but Dr. Ful-
ton need have gone no further than Estcourt to have found
this information : " The history of the Council shows that this
canon was not intended for a definition as to the sacramental
form."* (He gives the reasons for this, but there is not space
enough here to allow for their quotation.)

* Introduction, Anglican Ordinations.

1 897.] DR. FULTON'S ANSWEK TO THE POPE. 783

This brings out the most mischievous side of this critic's
argument. He has a perfect right to differ with the Pope and
to express his own opinion freely, but when he attempts to
tell us what the Roman Catholic Church teaches, and to found
an argument upon his statements, he is bound in conscience to
make sure that he is absolutely correct. Suppose he tells us
that he does not agree with Estcourt, Le Plat, or Waterworth,
but that he thinks the Council did intend to define the sacra-
mental form in this canon ? At the least, even then, truthful-
ness requires that he tell his readers of the different opinion
held by Catholic 'theologians, and not put his own view forth
as the undisputed position of the Roman Church, which it is
not. The question arises again, Was he unacquainted with this
fact, or did he choose to ignore it ? In either case can he be
qualified to be a fair controversialist?

A SUPPRESSIO VERI.

Another similar instance follows. He gives what purports to
be an examination in detail of the ordination of priests from
the Roman Pontifical. But, though he mentions many minor
ceremonies, he omits altogether that which Catholic theologians
generally hold to be the essential matter of the sacrament. Af-
ter the Communion, he tells us, the bishop "lays both hands
upon the head of each one of the deacons kneeling before
him, and says to each, * Receive the Holy Ghost. Whose sins,
etc.' This is the only imposition of hands which he mentions
as occurring in the whole rite, and by implication would have
us conclude that it is the only one which exists, and that there-
fore, as this is transferred to the Anglican rite, that rite has
the same matter and form as the Roman. But really is this
the case ? There are three impositions in the Roman Pontifical,
and it is the second one which Catholic theologians generally
hold to be the essential matter.* The third (with the words,
" Receive the Holy Ghost ") is not considered essential ; so that
if the second were accidentally omitted, the candidate would
have to receive ordination again, the entire rite being repeated
sub conditione ; but if the third should be omitted, it could be
added at any time without repeating the rest of the rite. The
ordinandi have become ordinati the candidates have become
priests before the third imposition, for they have already been
allowed to consecrate the Eucharist with the bishop. Now, it is

* Scavini quotes the teaching of St. Bonaventure, Tournely, Martine, Concina, Menar-
dus, etc.

784 DR. FULTON' s ANSWER TO THE POPE. [Mar.,

only this unessential third imposition of hands which has been
retained in the Anglican ordinal. Does Dr. Fulton not know
this, or did he purposely ignore it?

THE ANGLICAN FORM NOT ANCIENT.

Another incorrect idea which he puts forth is an impression
of the antiquity of the Anglican form. " It must be remem-
bered," he says, "that the latter part of it ('whose sins thou
shalt remit, etc.') is far from ancient ; in fact it is almost mod-
ern." By which he would have us infer that the first part,
" Receive the Holy Ghost," the only part which the Anglicans
claim to be essential, is really ancient ; whereas the third impo-
sition of hands with .these words is not to be found in any
Pontifical earlier than the thirteenth century.

WHY THE FORM IS CHIEFLY ESSENTIAL.

Dr. Fulton does not believe the essence of the sacrament
depends chiefly upon the form, because no form is given in the
New Testament as obligatory. That is the Protestant idea, but
the Catholic conception does not look upon the church as a
speechless creature tied to a dead book. She is a living body,
with her written charter in her hand ; but where that is silent,
having the power, as the guardian of the sacraments, to decide
what is and what is not essential.

The second reason for rejecting this principle of Catholic
theology is because different churches have * different forms.
This is a verbal juggling. The Pope does not say that any
ordinal which differed from the exact wording of the Roman
Pontifical would be inadequate. It is a well-known fact that
other rites are in use to-day within the church by his full
sanction. But precisely because no exact words are prescribed
in Scripture is it necessary that the form be sufficient. It
must indicate unmistakably the order meant to be conferred.
Now, it is a matter of fact that every ancient rite had its pur-
port clearly indicated, showing in some way what order was to
be conferred. But the Anglican rites were made absolutely in-
definite, and therefore uncertain.

The need of definite expression in the form may be seen by
an illustration. In the benediction of an abbot, or an abbess,
the bishop fays his hands on the head with prayers invoking
the Holy Spirit for the guidance of the new abbot ; but no sac-
rament is conferred. Yet in the Anglican ordinal, everything im-
plying sacerdotal character having been removed, there is noth-

1 897.] DR. FULTON'S ANSWER TO THE POPE. 785

ing to indicate more than is done in the blessing of an abbot
or the coronation of a king, /. <?., where no new character is
conferred upon the soul, but simply graces are asked to help
one perform well the duties of his position in life.

III. DEFECT OF INTENTION.

As Dr. Fulton tells us he agrees fully with the Council of
Trent, and also with the general principles laid down in this
Bull on the doctrine of intention, it will be needless to discuss
the doctrine itself here. But why do the Pope and Dr. Fulton,
starting with the same broad principles, come to such contradic-
tory results ?

HAD THE REFORMERS A CATHOLIC INTENTION ?

Dr. Fulton claims (i) that the reformers gave no public or
external evidence of not " intending to do what the church does,"
and that (2) if an heretical sense is given to their new ordinal
it is because of their " private sentiments ' only, which cannot
affect the sacrament. But he fails to answer this question for
us satisfactorily : Why did they change the ancient rites so
radically ? He endeavors to avoid this issue by saying that the
English reformers were bishops of a " national church," and so
were not bound to use the ritual of the Roman Church. But
that does not touch the point, for all the local English uses, of
Salisbury, Hereford, etc., were at one with the Roman in the
full expression of the sacerdotal character and power ; but when
the reformed ordinal of 1549 was composed every reference to
a sacramental character conferred, or to the power of sacrifice
the power of the Christian priest super corpus Christi verum
was cut out and the rite left wholly ambiguous. Why f

HOW HERETICAL INTENTION WAS SHOWN.

Our Anglican critic of the Holy Father confuses two dis-
tinct ideas. It is true that a person of private heretical ideas,
using the form of the church, may be supposed to intend to
do what the church does. But the case of a heretic using a new
form, not that of the church but framed de industria, to exclude
the doctrine of the church, is an altogether different thing.
In such a case no orders could be conveyed,* and such is ex-
actly the case of the Anglican reformers. f It would be impos-
sible to print in full here both the ancient rites and the Angli-

* St. Thomas Aquin., Sutnma, III. q. Ix. and q. Ixiv.
t Franciscus a Sancta Clara. Enchiridion.

786 DR. FULTON' s ANSWER TO THE POPE. [Mar. r

can ordinal, the Mass and the Anglican communion service, and
thus to show in detail how every trace of priest or sacrifice, in
the Catholic sense, was industriously removed. But able writers
whose works are accessible have already done this.*

NOT A QUESTION OF WORDS ALONE.

But, it is claimed, the reformers left enough by retaining
the word priest and by stating that since the Apostles' times
there had been three orders of ministers in Christ's Church,
bishops, priests, and deacons, which orders should be continued.
But, unfortunately for this argument, it is not a question of
words merely but of realities. One can have but little know-
ledge of church history who does not know how constantly
heretics use orthodox words while defining them in an heretical
sense. The Arians are a conspicuous example. The reformers
retained the word priest. Does that alone prove that they
meant by it what Catholics mean ? In New England, a few
generations ago, the word was in frequent use. The Puritans
often spoke of one of their ministers as " Priest Hutchinson '
or " Priest Smith," etc. Does Dr. Fulton suppose the word in
that case implied anything of the nature of sacerdotal character?
Methodists at the present day recite the Creed, including " I be-
Jieve in the Holy Catholic Church." Do they mean by it to
profess any such conception of the church as a Roman Catho-
lic has ? They are careful to explain that they do not. On the
other hand, when one hears from a Roman Catholic pulpit the
phrase " minister of God ' applied to one of the clergy, is there
the slightest doubt (in spite of the natural indefiniteness of the
expression) that the person so described possesses full priestly
character and powers ? It is not, then, a question of names
but of the realities for which they stand. The English reform-
ers claimed to be following the Apostles, as heretics, of high or
low degree, always do when they set out to reform the Catho-
lic Church. But they repudiated the idea of wishing to retain
the same kind of priesthood which the Roman Church had.
That they called " idolatrous," a priesthood pretending to offer
a sacrifice which was a " blasphemous fable."

CRANMER.

High Anglicans try to give an orthodox air to the Reforma-
tion sometimes by quoting words of the reformers in which they

* See e. g. Anglican Ordinations, Estcourt, and Edward VI. and the Book of Common
Prayer, F. A. Gasquet.

1897.] DR. FULTON'S ANSWER TO THE POPE. 787

use " priest ' and " sacrifice ' in a general way. But a very
different light would be thrown upon the matter if they would
only go on to quote these worthies when they define themselves.
Take e. g. Cranmer (who, as Anglicans themselves acknowledge,
" had most to do with drawing up the ordinal ") and see what
he says : " The difference made by Christ between the priest
and the layman in this matter is only in the ministration ; that
the priest, as common minister of the church, doth minister and
distribute the Lord's Supper unto others, and other receive at
his hands." *

Again, " As for the saying or singing of the Mass by the
priest, as it was in time past used, it is neither a Sacrifice pro-
pitiatory, nor yet a Sacrifice of laud and praise, nor in any
wise allowed before God, but abominable and detestable." f
In fact the only difficulty regarding quotations from Cranmer
and his contemporaries, showing their anti-Catholic conceptions
of "priest' and "sacrifice," is an embarrassment of riches.

HOOKER'S DEFINITION OF PRIEST.

Even the " judicious Hooker," a High-Churchman of a later
date whose Ecclesiastical Polity is still a text-book in Angli-
can seminaries, explains away the real meaning of priest.
Having declared that " sacrifice is no part of the church's
ministry," and that the " Gospel hath properly no sacrifice," he
adds that the word priest may nevertheless be used without
danger, because when men hear it "it draweth no more their
minds to any cogitation of sacrifice than the name of a Senator
or of an Alderman causes them to think on old age.";): That
is, Anglicans retain the word priest because they deprive it of
any idea of one who offers sacrifice i. e., of any Catholic sense.

EVIDENCE IN ACT AS WELL AS WORD.

Equally significant is what Newman calls " the urgency of
visible facts." Did Anglicans act at the Reformation as if they
thought they had a priesthood? What happened? I. The
altars were thrown down and the altar-stones used for pig-
troughs and paving-stones. 2. Penal laws were made against
celebrating or hearing Mass, and in a few years 1,000,000 in
fines were forced from those who still clung to the old religion.
3. Bishops were retained as a state regulation, but non-episcopal

* Cranmer's works, Parker Soc., p. 350. t Ibid., p. 352.

\ Ecclesiastical Polity, book v. 78.

788 DR. FULTON'S ANSWER TO THE POPE. [Mar.

orders were also recognized.* 4. It has never been heresy in the
Church of England to deny the doctrine of a sacrificing priest-
hood. 5. It is not so to-day. The great majority of the Anglican
clergy have always denied that they were priests in the Catho-
lic sense, and since the Pope has spoken, by this recent Bull,
the Anglican Bishop of Liverpool, the Bishop of Sodor and
Man, Archdeacon Taylor, and many other prominent clergy have
said publicly that the Pope was right, that the reformers did
abolish a sacrificing priesthood, and that there is none in the
Church of England to-day. Why may not these dignitaries
(whose church has not rebuked or disciplined them for their
utterances) be quite as right about the intention of the reform-
ers as Dr. Fulton or the Ritualists ?

The Pope's critic would have it that this Bull is an obscure
and self-contradictory document. A suitable close may be
made by a quotation showing how clear its meaning is to an
impartial outsider. The London Spectator (of October 10, 1896)
says : " The Pope is accused of giving a decision in the teeth
of history ; when, in point of fact, it is not historical facts, but
dogmatic principles, which are at issue. The ground taken up
in the Pope's Bull, as we understand it, is that the words of
an ordination rite are not magic words ; that their efficacy and
orthodoxy must be determined by the circumstances of their
adoption ; that as the change of rite was made by men who
wished to eliminate the Roman Catholic conception of the
priesthood as a mediaeval over-growth, the words must be taken
as securing the intended elimination. To retort by producing
equally simple formulae which have been accepted by Rome as
valid in other circumstances, and of which the ' arrogant and
ignorant ' Pope (as one controversialist calls him) is supposed to
be unaware, is to expend argument on a position quite different
from that taken up in the Bull. Simpler words intended in
sensu ecclesice (and for Rome the ecclesia is the Roman Catho-
lic Church) may suffice ; but a formula whose simplicity arises
from the negation of the church's full doctrine, instead of its
implied affirmation, cannot have a like meaning or efficacy. So
an ante-Nicene father may use in an orthodox sense language
which in an Arian, after Nicaea, would be unorthodox."

* Anglo-Catholic Theology, Cosin's works, iv. 401-449. Laud's works, ii. 422. Apostolic
Succession not a Doctrine of the Church of England, by Cantab. Early Anglican Divines
on Episcopacy, by Rev. S. F. Smith.

SIDNEY LANIER.

BY DR. AUSTIN O'MALLEY.

1 PRIL in gleam and gloom of sun and rain
2x Peers startled through gold mist of buds that break,
Hearing her bluebird's first low warblings shake
Along a frost of bluets and the greening grain ;
And her tears outwell for all-forgotten pain,

For though the chime of thrush in blossomy brake,
Nor rounded songs the August medlarks make,
Are not for her enough that broken strain.
But, ai Adonis ! not for us content :

We heard in grateful tears your song of spring,
And through the music's ghostly ravishment

Saw perfect beauty past the preluding ;
Yet, lured by death, beyond the sun you went,
Where only God hears harvest songs you sing.

790 BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. [Mar.,

THE BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN

ISLANDS.

BY A MEMBER OF THE EMBASSY.

J. J. 4. A. * 4. H- -4-yi

[ORFU is the most beautiful of that lovely group,
the Ionian Islands.

As I look back, so many years, the scent of
the orange-blossom seems to surround me and
remind me of that sunny clime. I left Constan-
tinople on a fine October morning, with my children and two
Greek servants, on board an Austrian Lloyd's steamer. After
two days we dropped anchor at the Island of Syra ; the town
was built on a conical hill, the dazzling white houses of the
Greek and Armenian merchants glittering in the sun. The
usual pedlars of the Levant came on board with coral neck-
laces, oranges, and lemons. We only stayed a few hours to
coal, then passed through a group of small islands, some very
barren, others beautifully green. As we skirted the Island of
Tinos I saw my Greek nurse bathed in tears ; on asking the
reason, I learnt that it was her native island, and that her
husband and children lived there ; poor thing ! it must have
been tantalizing, for it was six years since she had seen them.
My little Edith, aged four, made great friends with a Turkish
pasha going out as governor to one of the numerous islands
under Turkish sway. He used to walk up and down the deck
holding her hand, his servant following him, and when she
wanted to see anything beyond her reach he made him carry
her. The day before we landed my nurse said to me : " Kiria
(which means madam), the pasha's servant came to me and
said : The pasha is very fond of that little girl ; I have not
seen him in such a good temper for a long while ; do you
think your lady would sell her?' "O Dada ! ' I exclaimed,
"how can you tell me such horrid things?' "Do not be
angry, madam. I told the man you were Inglese, and that the
Inglese did not sell their children."

As we neared Corfu the scent of the orange-blossoms was
wafted towards us quite two miles out. From the deck I
could see the lovely outline of the Albanian coast, the hills
showing a beautiful purple or plum color in the setting sun,

1 897.] BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. 791

and on the other side was the green Island of Corfu, with
trees to the water's edge.

As we landed there was a confused medley of Greek and
English, all trying
to drag us into
their carriages.
One seized the
nurse, another my
little girl; but
my Greek servant,
who spoke Eng-
lish and French,
soon dispersed
them, and after a
frightful dispute
over the luggage
we drove to the
Hotel St. George, o

St. George is
the patron saint
of Greece, but St. ~
Spiridion is the
patron saint of
Corfu ; his body
was cast ashore
there in the year
800, and is miracu-
lously preserved
to the present
day. On certain
days he is car-
ried in procession
round the town in
a glass coffin ;
then all the shops
are shut, and it
is a general holi-
day. My cook in-
formed me one
day, " No shops to-morrow. St. Spiridion he walk."

The day after our arrival we took a drive (a novel sensa-
tion after Constantinople, where our only mode of conveyance
was a caique on the Bosphorus or a sedan chair on land). We

.MM

792 BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. [Mar.,

drove through groves of orange-trees, all seeming to grow
wild ; at every cottage door stood an orange-tree.

The town was well built and strongly fortified. The fort on
the little Island of Vido which protected the town was said to
be impregnable. The citadel near the palace was a fine old
building built by the Venetians. The principal streets were
lined with arcades, there was a beautiful cathedral, and the high
commissioner's palace was evidently an old Italian one ; the
winged lion of Venice was on the walls, as on several other old
buildings. Corfu was for some time in the possession of the
Venetians, and many of the inhabitants are of Italian descent.
One of the prettiest girls in the society was a Signorina Balbi,
a descendant of one of the oldest Venetian families. She had
lovely, star-like eyes, and a beautiful figure.

The vegetation was nearly tropical hedges of prickly pear
and cactus ; there was a beautiful geranium-walk near the
lord high commissioner's palace. Remembering that the lord
high was an old friend of my father's, I sent him a little
note to announce my arrival. The next day a handsome young
aide-de-camp called, and said he was sent by the lord high com-
missioner to make his excuses and to see if I wanted anything
done, and that he would be happy to be of any assistance.
The commissary-general, an old brother-officer of my husband's,
came with his pretty Canadian wife, and asked me to dinner ;
he . had two very handsome daughters. The Archbishop of
Corfu, hearing that an English Catholic lady had arrived, sent
his chaplain to call. All offered to assist me in finding a
house ; but it seemed very difficult, for the nice ones were all
taken by the married English officers. There was a large gar-
rison for such a small place four regiments, besides engineers,
commissariat, etc.

I had set my heart on a white house I had seen on the
shore as .we neared the island ; it stood on a point of land
about a mile from the town, near an orange-grove. But that
I was told was taken by an officer whose wife was shortly ex-
pected, and I began to fear I should have to pass the winter
in a stuffy hotel.

But a few days after, on my return from a drive, I was
met by the hotel-keeper, who obsequiously informed me that
the lord high had himself called, and also the archbishop. He
now began to* think me a person of importance, as the lord
high seldom made a personal call.

The archbishop sent me word that the house I had coveted
was free, as the lady was too ill to leave Malta, and that I

i879-] BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. 793

25
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794 BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. [Mar.,

had better lose no time in securing it. It was a first-floor flat,
with beautiful views of the sea on two sides. I signed the
agreement ; but then came the question of furniture ; there was
none to be hired, as I had fondly imagined. Here was a
pretty predicament the bare walls and nothing else. My
friend, Mr. F- -, came to the rescue ; he took me to Mr.
Taylor, the great man of the place, who supplied everything to
the officers, from a foot-bath to a drawing-room suite ; but alas !
not for hire. He seemed to be on equal terms with his cus-
tomers, and on explaining my difficulty, he at last agreed to
furnish my flat on hire for six months ; Mr. F- finding me
beds and blankets from the government stores. We were soon
comfortably settled. A balcony ran around the front, where
my little girls played all the morning ; some orange-trees in the
garden sent up a delicious fragrance.

The lord high gave us permission to walk in the garden of
his country-house close by ; it was lovely, but neglected ; orange-
trees and rose-trees, clematis and geranium, growing in wild
profusion, but it was very charming ; the roses were magnificent.
As we sat there on the November mornings gazing on the blue
Mediterranean, and now and then picking an orange, which grew
all around us, I thought could my London friends, who are
now probably shivering over the fire with the gas lighted, see
me now, they would cease to pity my expatriation.

Besides the Lord High Commissioner Sir H. Storks, there
were four judges, Sir Charles Serjeant, Sir Henry Drummond
Wolff, Sir Patrick Colquhoun, and a Greek whose name I have
forgotten. Their salary was, I believe, 1,200 a year, which in
that country was equal to ^"3,000.

The climate was delightful far superior to the Riviera.
Lady W- gave a picnic soon after my arrival. We drove
through beautiful cork and olive woods across the island to a
lovely little sandy cove, where we dined ; returning home at two
in the morning in open carriages this on the 22d of Decem-
ber. It was as warm as an English July. Our party consisted
of English and Greeks. Miss Euphrosyne Cocomelli was a very
pretty girl, and much affected English society ; she was conse-
quently looked coldly on by her compatriots, who resented
jealously any intercourse between their wives and daughters and
the English ; still, many braved their enmity and some married
their English admirers, Miss Euphrosyne among the number.

Riding parties were frequently made up ; it was delicious
riding under the trees, but it required some care to avoid the
fate of Absalom. A young officer, just arrived from England,

1897.] BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. 795

was killed ; his horse took fright and ran away, his head struck
against a tree and his skull was fractured. The doctors who
attended him said he had an extraordinarily thin skull not
thicker than half a crown.

UNDER THE ARCHWAY OF THE OLD VENETIAN TOWN-GATE.

There was a great deal of excitement among the garrison at
the prospect of our joining the Danes against the Prussians in
Schleswig-Holstein ;. but Gladstone's policy prevailed, and poor
little Denmark was left to her fate. We thus tacitly encour-
aged an aggressive war by a strong power on a weak ; we

796 BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. [Mar.,

may some time rue the day when we helped to build up not
only a rival to our commerce, but a maritime rival who may
perhaps possess Holland.

Greece now wanted a king. Otho had resigned, and the
throne was offered to the Duke of Edinburgh, the Greeks hop-
ing that the Ionian Islands would then be restored to them.
Little thin enamel rings, with " Zito Alfredo," were hawked
about, and great was the enthusiasm at the prospect of an Eng-
lish prince. But the duke declined the honor, and the throne
was then offered to and accepted by the Princess of Wales*
brother, Prince George of Denmark, England ceding the islands
to Greece. This was Gladstone's policy.

As soon as it became known the enthusiasm for England
quickly turned to national self-glorification. New little rings,
with " Zito e enesis," were now handed about ; songs of rejoic-
ing were heard in the streets, and they spoke of the English as
" Gorunes ' (pigs). They even threw stones at a British officer ;
but these ebullitions were quickly suppressed by the English
authorities. The shop-keepers, many of whom were English
and all relying on the custom of the garrison and the officials,
were dismayed and foresaw ruin in prospect. Some of the
richer ones , had made their pile and retired to villas, outside
the town. But the farmers and market gardeners must have
felt it severely. Every morning, as I sat at my window, I could
see long strings of horses coming in from the country laden
with fruit and vegetables for the garrison and for the numerous
ships in harbor. They were .ridden by Greek boys, who rode
barebacked, some very handsome and graceful, and reminded
me of the Elgin marbles.

The forts were to be blown up before the evacuation, and
every one said I must go and see them first. So we went over
to Vido, the little island on which the fort was built. I was
told that every stone had cost a dollar. It seemed a pity to de-
stroy it ; but it was necessary, as, if any foreign power got pos-
session of it, they could command the islands.

There was nothing particularly interesting save the apparent
strength of the fortress. We went into the military prison and
saw six or seven men walking about in a circle. Every five
steps they stopped to pick up a large cannon-ball, which they
deposited in a hole, the man following doing the same ; this,
I was told, was shot-drill. " How cruel," I said, "and how use-
less!' "Ah! that's what riles them so," said the sergeant with
a grin. We then saw a man in solitary confinement ; he was
strapped down, as he had been very violent.

1897.] BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. 797

On the whole I believe the British soldier was very well
behaved. There was one bad case of murder where, strange as
it may seem, all the sympathies were with the murderer. A
sergeant, whose conduct for many years had been exemplary,
was afflicted with a drunken wife. One evening he found her

THE GREEKS OF THE ISLANDS ARE OF A PURER RACE.

roaring drunk ; he took his rifle from the rack and shot her
dead. Unfortunately he had been heard to say that if he found
her drunk again he would shoot her. From this time loaded
rifles were forbidden in barracks. The verdict was " guilty ";
but such was the sympathy that the lord high forwarded a
VOL. LXIV. 51

798 BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. [Mar.,

petition for mercy to the home secretary ; but it was refused-
the law must take its course. The archbishop, who took a
great interest in the man he had been one of his penitents-
begged the lord high to permit the prisoner to go once to the
cathedral to confession and Communion ; but of course that
could not be allowed. I think if it had been there would have
been an attempt at a rescue, for public feeling was so strong
in the man's favor that it was impossible to get any one to
act as executioner. At last a man was brought over from Al-
bania, masked, the night before the execution. It was fixed
for seven o'clock in the morning, and all the troops were to be
on parade. One officer and his young wife had the rooms over
us, and as I heard him go out at six in the morning I breathed
a prayer for the poor man so soon to be launched into eterni-
ty. I heard that he behaved with firmness. An English and
an Italian priest accompanied him to the scaffold. The Italian
fainted away at the foot of the gallows.

The following Sunday, as we were taking our usual walk to
the one-gun battery, I noticed a nice-looking woman, evidently
English, dressed in deep mourning and leaning on the arm of
a sergeant. She seemed to excite much observation, and I
learned that she was the daughter of the man who had been
executed six days before for the murder of her mother. I was
disgusted that a countrywoman should be so lost to decency
as to show herself in public after such a dreadful tragedy. I
suppose the temptation to show her new mourning was stronger
than her feeling of shame if indeed she had any.

The walk to the one-gun battery led also to the beautiful
view of a Greek temple charmingly situated on the side of a
steep hill on the shore, covered with wild myrtle, geraniums,
and orange-trees ; opposite was a small island called by the
natives the Ship of Ulysses, from its being the shape of a ship.
They say the ship turned into an island.

The carnival was kept with great merriment. When I walked
into the town on the Sunday before Shrove Tuesday I thought
all the people had gone mad. Men dressed as mummers in
white, and masked, were skipping about, and women, masked,
were walking about two and two, not hand-in-hand, but each
holding the end of a handkerchief. Some dozen men and wo-
men were dancing round in a circle, and then breaking off and
dancing a sort of polonaise. I was told that it was exactly the
same as the old Grecian dances. I dined on Shrove Tuesday
with the F- -'s. After dinner the servant announced that a
party of masks were below, and begged if they might come up.

1 897.] BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. 799

" Let them come," said our host, " and see if we don't find them
out." They were evidently of the society, for they knew us all ; but
whether Greeks or English we could not make out. They talked
Italian, so they were pretty safe not to be recognized by their accent.
I was awakened at daylight on Easter Sunday by a sound

ZANTE, " THE FLOWER OF THE LEVANT."

of chanting; thinking it was a funeral, I hopped out of bed and
ran to the window. It was a procession carrying the picture
of a favorite saint from one church to another.

On Maundy-Thursday and Good Friday the streets were full
of lambs, and on Greek Friday evening, on returning from

Soo BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. [Mar.,

church, I saw at nearly every door a little lamb tethered and
bleating most piteously.

I was advised not to go out on Holy Saturday morning, for
they had a habit of keeping everything that was cracked during
the year and throwing it out of the window when the bells
rang at High Mass ; they also, at that time, cut the throats of
the poor little lambs. On Monday and Tuesday I saw numer-
ous lamb-skins hanging out to dry.

The Archbishop of Corfu was universally popular with the
English, and even with the orthodox Greeks. He spoke English
perfectly, had very courteous manners, and one could hardly
believe that he was of humble birth the orphan son of a bar-
ber, brought up for charity by the priests of the cathedral. He
began by serving as an acolyte, and before forty had risen to
his present eminence ; he was, I believe, an Italian by birth,
tall and good-looking. He had one peculiarity : he would never
go into a room where there was a coal fire, fearing the fumes
would give him apoplexy, and in the winter when he paid calls
his chaplain would go first to see if there was a coal fire.

The Greek Church possessed the body of St. Spiridion ; he
died before the division of the churches. Count Bulgaris, a
descendant of the saint, took me into the chapel. It is always
one of the Bulgaris family who has charge of the shrine. The
saint was in a glass coffin ; he looked as if made of leather. I
suppose he must have shrunk, for his body was not longer than
that of a child of twelve. Count Bulgaris (he was a priest)
offered to open the coffin to let me touch him, but I declined.

Then the Roman Church adhered to the old style and kept
Christmas day at the same time as the Greeks, consequently I
had the novel experience of two Christmas dinners the lord
high was kind enough to ask me on December 25th, and the
banker, who was a Catholic, invited me a fortnight later. At
the lord high's there were all the English officials and the
officers and their wives. ... I was surprised to see that he
was helped first, but noticed that he did not touch his spoon
till the lady at each side of him had been helped. His two
aides-de-camp were clever and agreeable young men. They both
made their way in the world, one dying as governor of the
Gold Coast, the other now holds a high command in Egypt.

The fiat had gone forth : henceforth Corfu was Greek ; the
forts were blown up ; the people went out in crowds to see the
sight. Forgetting all about it, I was walking quietly into the
town and wondering at so many people going that way, when
suddenly there was a roar and a flash from Vido ; a shower of

1897.] BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. 80 1

stones was thrown up. This was succeeded by the same at the
citadel, and in a quarter of an hour the work of destruction
was accomplished. I heard the people around me say " Che
crima ' (the pity of it). The regiments now received their
marching orders ; many flirtations were brought to a close, some
happily by marriages. Mr. F- -'s pretty daughter's was the first
wedding ; it took place in the soldiers' chapel ; the bride, of
course, had real orange blossoms in her hair. The breakfast
was hurried over, as the Italian steamer was to take the happy
pair to Naples ; but two o'clock came, three o'clock, and no
steamer was in sight ; the guests at last departed and no one
but myself was left. The bride's mother begged me to stay

CAPE DUCATO. (SAPPHO'S LEAP).

on and dine there. I did so ; it was rather melancholy ; the re-
mains of the feast served for our dinner ; the bridegroom looked
sulky, the poor bride melancholy. All this time a sharp look-
out was kept for the steamer. At ten o'clock they gave it up.
The bridegroom had to return to his barracks, while the bride
remained at her father's till the boat arrived the next day.

The Jews at Corfu were very numerous, but quite poor. They
lived apart in the ghetto. During the last four days in Lent the
gates were kept close shut for fear of an outbreak of religious
frenzy on the part of the Greeks, and no Jew dared show his
nose outside on Good Friday.

The beauty of the Greeks has been greatly praised, and I
was much disappointed at Athens ; but the Greeks of the

802 BRITISH EVACUATION OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. [Mar.,

islands are of a purer race, and one sometimes came across a
very beautiful face. There was a village on the island famed
for the beauty of the women. I drove over and saw some very
handsome, tall women with the low classic brow, and often
with blue eyes. They wore their hair plaited with ribbons and
twined round the head like a coronet ; I was amazed to see
such luxuriant hair, but was told that it was probably mixed
with their mothers' and grandmothers' hair.

I think Leighton's idea that the Greeks were originally fair
was correct, for I saw several fair-haired women. My maid
Marguerite had the most lovely golden hair and blue eyes, she
was tall and statuesque ; her sister Euterpe was no less hand-
some, but dark. Euterpe remained with me for several years
and accompanied me to England.

Towards the end of April it became unpleasantly warm, and
with regret I gave orders to pack.

Again the uncertainty of the steamer's arrival was a source
of great annoyance, as it was to the bride and bridegroom.
We gave up the key of the house and drove to the harbor; no
boat ! Mr. F- - kindly asked us to his house, and I gladly ac-
quiesced, leaving a man to watch ; four o'clock, five o'clock, at
last seven o'clock came. " It won't come now," said the sailors;
accordingly beds were improvised and the children were put
to sleep, and I sat down to dinner with my hospitable friends.
Hardly had we begun when a man rushed in breathless : " Quick !
The steamer is in sight ; it will be here in a quarter of an hour."
The sleepy children were dragged out of bed and dressed, and
we rowed off to the steamer ; as we were on the way I asked the
boatmen, " What is the name of the boat." " The Garibaldi."
" Then," said I, " it cannot be the Austrian Lloyd's ? ' " Oh, yes
it is ! It comes every week ; we know it well " ; so I was silent.
We went on board, the children were again put to bed, and I was
sitting chatting with the F- -'s when Dada came up : " Madam,
the sailor says this boat is going to Naples ; there is the
Austrian boat now entering the harbor"; on inquiring I found
she was right. We bundled off again into the open boat, the
children roaring lustily at this second interruption of their
night's rest. It was pitch dark and impossible to see the boat.
Mr. F took one of the children in his arms, and as he
jumped I heard a splash and a voice near me said " E dentro."
I thought, of course, he or the child had fallen ; luckily it was
only a rope. We all scrambled on board just in time, as they
had steam up, and in a few minutes we had said adieu to Corfu.

1897-] REVOLT FROM CALVINISM IN NEW ENGLAND. 803

THE REVOLT FROM CALVINISM IN NEW ENG-
LAND.

BY REV. ARTHUR M. CLARK, C.S.P.

4. 4. 4. 4. 4. .j. 4. -+- .-

CALVINISM was stamped, or perhaps branded, in
large letters on every " Profession of Faith ' in
the Congregational churches of New England at
the end of the last century. It is related of an
old lady of this school that she said to the min-
ister when he came to make his pastoral call: "Total depravity
is a saving doctrine if one can only live up to it." And the
writer remembers well how, in his great distress at coming for
the first time against Calvinism, he was told, " Predestination is
true, but it is a mystery to be believed like the Trinity."
This in 1866. The terrible doctrine that " God died only for the
elect and for those whom he had predestined to eternal life
without any will of their own," had to be subscribed to by all
who became "church members" in those days, and is, I believe,
the case in some places still.

But when during the Revolutionary days M. Voltaire, Paine
and Jefferson, and others were, by the means of the advocate
who has no cause, viz., ridicule, endeavoring to bring into con-
tempt the Christian religion, they found a fair field in New
England. This attack was not able at first to destroy religious
sentiment to any great extent. Religion was so grounded by
centuries of devotion in England into the character of the New
England people that it could not be quickly eradicated. The
first effect was the fall of Calvinism. A certain man of the period
of 1800-1820, near Boston, was approached by a Calvinistic deacon.

" Mr. Smith," said the deacon, " how much will you subscribe
to send a missionary to the negroes in Africa ? '

"Not a cent."

"But why not? Is it not a good work?'

"Yes, it may be; but," and here he cocked his eye with a
comical leer at the deacon, " if God died to save the elect only,
and there is a certain number of them, then the less people
in the world there are who know of his death the greater
chance for you and me to be among that number. No, sir; I
do not see how you, being a Calvinist, can wish to diminish your

804 REVOLT FROM CALVINISM IN NEW ENGLAND. [Mar.,

chances of salvation by giving any of them away to African
negroes. Calvinism and missions seem to me incompatible."

Religion was not to be suddenly eliminated from the people
of New England. In their heart of hearts these poor descend-
ants of the Sts. Thomas a Beckets, Edwards, Etheldredas, Wini-
freds, Edmunds, Stephens, Oswalds, Osmunds, and hundreds of
other English saints, had a love of God and the belief in a
future world too deep to be pumped dry by ridicule. Too
many of them had been consoled by the Bible to give it up
without a murmur; multitudes had found too much enjoyment
in the two Sabbath meetings and the Thursday afternoon
prayer-meeting to cease their attendance at these feasts of re-
ligious devotion. They had found it to fill a craving which
human nature had rooted deeply within itself, and when nothing
but the bare bones of infidelity stared them in the face, they
preferred any form of Christianity rather than that ; and so, in-
stead of ceasing to worship God, they set up new altars to a
new God, very different from the God of Calvin. In other
words, when the schism came it took not the form of irreligion
except among a few ; but it did adopt new creeds. It swung
from extreme to extreme from Calvinism to Universalism, and
from the belief in the unseen and mysterious to the rationalism
of Parker and Channing.

Great were the discussions and heart-burnings among the
divines of those days, and the odium theologicum which thence
took its rise continues to be as bitter as ever after one hundred
years are past.

Ministers were tried for heresy by the conferences, and in
almost every town there was a split in the community, and a
new church was the order of the day. These old Bible readers
met on winter evenings at the cross-roads where the " store '
stood, and, seated in chairs, on kegs and counters, about the
great stove, loaded with hickory or maple logs, discussed reli-
gion and politics with equal facility and infinite zest and wit.
Back and forth flew the arguments, from Scripture and reason,
and from the authorities whom they had read, found in Ed-
wards or Baxter. Wit, repartee, sarcasm, all had their place,
and perhaps counted for more among the rank and file of men
than any argument.

Chief among them was an old man respected by all. Well
does the writer remember him, his hair white with eighty win-
ters' frosts, the light of the whale-oil lamps gleaming from the
polished surface of the brass buttons on his old blue camlet

1 897.] REVOLT FROM CALVINISM IN NEW ENGLAND. 805

swallow-tailed coat, his knee-breeches with their silver buckles,
and his long, gray knitted hose encased at the feet with the
stout, well-fitting, low-cut shoes and great silver buckles. All
this gave him the air of what he pretended to be the oracle
of Buckminster's store.

Then the " store ' itself was interesting, with its " W. I,
Goods," the "dry-goods counter," the produce department,
which was ever an object of interest to old and young. Here
the thrifty house-wife bartered her eggs, her butter, her straw,
cheese, and cider, for calico, raisins, citron, spices, and tin-ware or
china. Here she purchased the few knickknacks that were of
convenience to her in her domestic life. In this great barn of a
store her cadaverous spouse received the tobacco and Medford
rum which the young man who was clerk and lived " up-stairs,"
and was " fitting for college," gave him in exchange for the
juicy hams and fat sides of salt pork which once had graced
the bodies of his stertorous breathing swine.

It may be, I think, truly said that the opinion of the men
who met in these stores to discuss religion had as much, if not
more, influence on men's minds, to turn them away from Calvin-
ism and with it the remnant of Ancient Catholic Truths, than
all the eloquent sermons which were preached weekly by the
ministers of the new school.

Three great doctrines which the New-Englanders had held
were here fiercely attacked. I mean great as they would
speak of them. They held the Trinity, the Divinity of Christ,
and Predestination with all its attendant sprites of doctrine.
These were all attacked and defended with equal acrimony on
both sides, and perhaps with an equal amount of logic also.
T^he result was that some gave up all three and became Uni-
tarians, others gave up Predestination and became Universalists,
while many remained firm and steady to the end of their days.

So long as the people held to the Trinity and the Divinity
of Christ, and lived up to the teachings of Him whom they
held to be divine, so long did they remain good and faithful to
their little inheritance of Catholic truth. Calvinism was more
of a theoretical thing with them, and few followed it out practi-
cally. In later days, where it has remained in the " Profession
of Faith," church members have been received without sub-
scribing to it.

But besides Rationalism there came in two other great
influences which helped to destroy the little faith they had.
These are, and I must beg my reader's pardon for mentioning

8o6 REVOLT FROM CALVINISM IN NEW ENGLAND. [Mar.,

them in the same sentence, Spiritualism or superstition and the
Roman Catholic religion. As to the former, it has appealed to
every class of New-Englander, and that land is now the favored
home of those curious people who have set up a religion of
their own.

Besides those who profess Spiritualism as a religious belief,
there are thousands of others who belong to the various non-
Catholic bodies, and who practise the same superstitions that
Spiritualists teach. There is not a town of any considerable
size, where the descendants of the New-Englanders dwell, which
has not its medium or clairvoyant, who gains a good living off
the credulity of the superstitious. This practice of consulting
the dead and following the advice given by the mediums has
been the commonest cause, and the most fruitful one, in bring-
ing men to forget the Catholic teachings, especially in respect of
the moral law, which were implanted in New England by the
early settlers and held intact for over two centuries.

. Whatever one may believe about the spirits whom they con-
sult ; whether they are really spirits or only the imaginations of
some person with a mild form of hallucination, the fact of the
matter is that this superstition has been and continues to be a
means of drawing away from any definite teaching in matters of
faith or morals. And it has left them with nothing to hold
on to but a slender thread binding them to a world of folly,
and, if what they say be true, to a land of spirits indeed, but
of spirits each one of whom must be little less than an idiot.

The wave of unbelief which was rolling over Europe in the-
eighteenth century spread across the ocean to the shores of
New England, and although its effects were not at once ap-
parent, it prepared men's minds to receive the full tide of
Rationalism which came in in the second quarter of this now fast
closing and eventful nineteenth century.

The majority of men still believed in the goodness and
mercy of God in spite of the " Profession of Faith ' and the
"Doctrinal Sermons' on predestination and election which
were hurled at the heads of the hearers on Sunday mornings
from the old plush pulpits in the little white meeting-houses
which rose on the hill-tops of those beautiful New-England towns
of ninety years gone by. It is a doctrine so consonant with rea-
son, and all the best instincts of mankind, that something more
than the ipse dixit of a Calvin, or even a " Profession of Faith,"
was needed to impress it indelibly on the heart. Doubt had
come in with the scoffings of Tom Paine, the laughter of Vol-

1897-] REVOLT FROM CALVINISM IN NEW ENGLAND. 807

taire, and the caustic writings of Jefferson, and the demon of
doubt, when once it gains an entrance to the human mind, can
be with great difficulty ejected. And so it happened easily
that when Calvinism was attacked, those who spurned it had
many sympathizers. And besides attacking Calvinism, the
Trinity and the Divinity of Christ and His Redemption were
the targets for the missiles that were hurled weekly from the
pulpits of the men of the school of " Free Thought." The war
of the Revolution brought not a few French to the colonies, and
with them came the new ideas which upset the staid and steady
old notions which your New-Englander had inherited. Then
there began to flow a steady stream of men and women towards
France, where, with the unbelieving and careless people among
whom they were thrown, they made common cause of infidelity.

The great crash came not at once ; it was rather a decay
than a crash. As one has seen a great tree decay and fall to
pieces in a few years until scarcely a trace remains except the
rotting stump, so did the New England faith in the unseen and
in God gradually disappear, until to-day its effect on the life
of the people is as little as once it was great.

Under the name of Unitarians, the Rationalists have done
as much if not more than any other of these various shades of
religious opinion to shatter all belief among many. Under the
sway of its two great lights, Parker and Channing, and with
the aid of the rationalistic teachings of the faculty of Harvard
University at Cambridge, Mass., it has exercised a potent in-
fluence which has. been the more disastrous to religious belief as
it has been subtle. And again, as distances became shortened with
the advent of the railroad and the steamboat, communication
of ideas became easier and they spread faster than at an earlier
period. The daily and weekly papers and the monthly maga-
zines have been not the least potent of all the powerful
engines to spread error and truth, especially the latter. Editors
easily fell into the trap that the human reason was sufficient,
and that money was the end and object of all men's aims, and
did not hesitate to teach it constantly in their journals. So
gradually died the ancient faith and left men Deists, with no
Christ, no certainty for a future life, and, worse than all, with
a hard, stolid indifference to all forms of religion. The doc-
trine, as it is now stated, which has become impressed upon the
minds of these people is one of intense liberality : namely, " It
makes no difference what a man believes, provided he does what
is right"; or " One religion is just as good as another, provided

8o8 REVOLT FROM CALVINISM IN NEW ENGLAND. [Mar.,

a man acts squarely with his neighbor." Such may be said to
be the result which Rationalism has produced. Can it be ours
* to lead these people back to the little faith they had, and finally
to the whole faith that their forefathers had ?

Perhaps the Roman Catholic religion by its presence has
done as much to do away with the little faith these people had
as either of the other two influences which I have mentioned.
This influence has, however, been exercised in a way so indirect
that it is not easy all at once to see it. So long as these
poor people were not acquainted with the truth as we have
it, and as the church did not stand as " a city set upon a hill
which cannot be hid," so long their ignorance was excusable.
But when the church became known under the ministrations
. of men like Bishop Cheverus and Archbishop Carroll, and the
people by law allowed it to exist, then logically they ceased to
protest and should have joined it. The church stood forth as her
own witness to them, its doctrines were no longer unknown at
least to thinking men, and yet they came not within her pale.
One of them a few decades dead, in reply to the question
"Why do you not believe the Divinity of Christ?' replied,
" Because the whole system of Roman Catholicism would fol-
low." Another not less famous remarked to some one when he
came to him, announcing this discovery of truth in the Catholic
Church, " What, have you just found that out ? I have known
that for forty years "; and yet he never became a Catholic. To
them the church came and, like the Israelites of old, camped in
the midst of them, erstwhile her enemies. She accredited her-
self to them as if she would say : " Here I am, the Ancient
Church, whence you have all that you possess that is best. I
am the Mother of the Sacraments that fill all the wants of hu-
man nature. I am the Mistress of Truth which satisfies all
the needs of the intellect. I am the Guardian of the Command-
ments and the Interpreter thereof. Under my guidance, teach-
ing, and nursing you can never go wrong. Whatsoever you
have held heretofore of truth you had learned from me by the
tradition of your fathers. Now I am come among you, and if
you will hear my voice, well ; but if you will not hearken unto
me, it shall come to pass that you will live and die without even
the little faith which you and your fathers inherited from me
and have kept for three hundred years."

Is it not true, then, that these people by rejecting the faith
of the church which they admitted together with all forms of
belief to toleration, have thereby lost the little that they had ?

1897.] REVOLT FROM CALVINISM IN NEW ENGLAND. 809

For by admitting the Roman Catholic religion to exist on an
equality with their own, and by allowing that it could be prac-
tised without any persecution of its members, they have denied
the very cardinal principle on which they were founded. By
this act they have accused the Cranmers, Latimers, Ridleys >
and others of being mistaken utterly and altogether. Logically
every one of them should have become a Roman Catholic as
soon as he favored toleration.

But though the toleration was upon the statute-book, oppo-
sition did not die out. It rather increased, and we have to
thank the rationalistic gentlemen of the land that it was finally
quelled. It reached its height on that awful night when in the
City of Charlestown, Mass., a house full of weak and defence-
less women and young children was attacked by a furious mob
urged on by the ministers of that commonwealth.

Nothing but the most intense bigotry or ignorance inspired
the demons in human form who led the attack that night. It
is a crime that has called for redress from that day to this, and
for which the commonwealth of Massachusetts must be held
responsible.

Perhaps when the day comes that justice will be done in
the matter one obstacle to the conversion of these people will
be removed.

Up to the present day there has been no great advance of
the descendants of the old New-Englanders toward the Catho-
lic religion, except by the most roundabout route. They have
turned their backs upon it and traversed the world of religions
in search of truth. Some have come back to the starting-point
and found the old church in the same place, and have entered
it at last in their old age. The majority have found their
rest (?) in every camp and sort of ism, from the extreme of
Ritualism to the other extreme of Unitarianism, and not a
few have invented isms of their own. They have remained pro-
foundly indifferent to the claims of the church, and a spirit
of liberality has pervaded the society in which they moved.
There have been converts to the church, but their action has
never been the signal for many to follow them.

Here they are, then, from Maine to California, from Minne-
sota to the Gulf, without anything more to hold them than
a " First cause that makes for righteousness." They are strug-
gling for something more definite. Let it be ours to show
them the truth in religious matters as plainly as they can show
it to others in matters secular or scientific.

Sio THE JESUIT " RELATIONS'' IN ENGLISH. [Mar.,

THE JESUIT " RELATIONS ! IN ENGLISH.*

:T is difficult to restrain one's enthusiasm when
called upon to describe the new edition of the
Jesuit Relations, under the direction of Mr. Reu-
ben Gold Thwaites, three volumes of which have
already appeared. Aside from the almost ines-
timable value of the Relations in themselves, this edition is of a
character to delight every lover of books. Sixty volumes are
announced, appearing henceforth at monthly intervals. In all,
only 750 numbered sets are to be printed, after which, volume
by volume, the types are distributed. The price of each set
is $210. Under the circumstances this is moderate, for not
only are the mechanical details in keeping with the most
advanced luxury of modern book-making, but the pains ex-
pended to secure accuracy of text, thoroughness of presenta-
tion, and precision of annotation are so plainly evident in the
volumes before us that we scarcely need to be assured by the
publishers that every transcription has been checked verbatim
three several times; proofs have been read, whenever possible,
from the originals, special punches have been manufactured to
imitate typographical peculiarities, and the photographic pro-
cess on the one hand supplements the most tedious investiga-
tions of learned specialists on the other.

At a time when multiplicity of editions de luxe is becom-
ing a reproach to American democracy, it is a relief to find
the utmost resources of art lavished upon material so entire-
ly worthy of distinguished treatment. The Jesuit Relations
were first published in 1632, and from that date annually until
1673, under the editorship of the provincial, at the press of
Sbastien Cramoisy, Paris. They were discontinued owing to
the opposition of Frontenac, whose financial policy, which had
at first been subserved by the missionaries, was now being
threatened by their attempts to make agriculturists of the fur-
hunting savages. So great, however, had been the popularity,
especially in court circles, of these thrilling recitals from the
depths of the mysterious New World, that forthcoming narra-
tives found occasional publishers at Paris, Lyons, and in several

* The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents. Cleveland, Ohio : The Burrows Brothers Co.

1 897.] THE JESUIT " RELATIONS' IN ENGLISH. 811

Italian cities, while the provincial placed many in a series
devoted to the intimate correspondence of the society.

Nevertheless more than a century and a half elapsed before
general literary appreciation of the Relations was aroused by
Dr. E. B. O'Callaghan, editor of the Documentary History of
New York, who pointed out their great worth as historical
sources. He was soon followed in his studies by Dr. John
Gilmary Shea and Father Felix Martin, S.J. Collectors, sud-
denly become eager, found Cramoisys exceedingly rare. Park-
man, writing in 1867, said no complete collection existed in
America. The Lenox Library, however, thanks to the ener-
getic activity of its founder, to-day contains the entire set, and
is rich in kindred literature. The Canadian government re-
printed the Cramoisys (Quebec, 1858) in three stout octavos,
which are now also rare. Shea's Cramoisy Series (1857-1866)
numbered twenty-five small volumes, limited to one hundred
copies of each, and contained materials subsequent to the dis-
continuance of the original Cramoisy Series, together with re-
prints of some particularly rare numbers of that series. Dr.
O'Callaghan added seven volumes of similar matter, also new,
in an edition limited to twenty-five copies. As if chance
favored the bibliophile exclusiveness to which these limited
editions purveyed, fire destroyed a large part of Le Journal
des Je'suites, published in 1871 from original manuscripts in the
seminary at Quebec, and constituting an indispensable comple-
ment to the Relations. Father Martin's researches bore fruit in
his edition of Relations Inc'dites de la Nouvelle-France, 1672-79,
published at Paris in 1861, in two volumes. Father Carayon,
S.J., added the Premiere Mission des Je'suites au Canada, Paris,
1864. All the contents of the works above named are fully set
forth in the present edition, together with many Letters and
Relations which were printed privately and have been collected
by Father Martin ; Father Arthur E. Jones, S.J., Archivist of
St. Mary's College, Montreal ; Mr. James Lenox, and others.
Moreover, a number of hitherto unpublished manuscripts,
especially from St. Mary's College, fill out this most complete
of all collections. Nearly 9,000 pages octavo of text are re-
produced, with as many more of translation, yet the whole is
only selective from the remains of the vast literary activity
which persevered during the mission period.

The wealth of this heritage was generously acknowledged by
Parkman and Bancroft ; Sparks patronized it, and in the course
of time historical writers have come to rely upon it to quote

812 THE JESUIT "RELATIONS' IN ENGLISH. [Mar.,

Field's Indian Bibliography as "the source from which almost
all the historic material of New York and Canada, during the
first century and a half, is to be drawn." Now for the first time
translated into English, the number of those who profit by its
treasures must be largely increased.

Mr. Thwaites, the editor, is, according to Mr. Theodore
Roosevelt, " one of a band of Western historians who, during
the last decade, have opened an entirely new field of historical
study. He is a trained student and scholar, and an ideal edi-
tor for such a work." He is secretary of the State Historical
Society of Wisconsin, and has edited the society's Collections and
Withers s Chronicles of Border Warfare. He is the author of The
Colonies, 1492-1750 ; Historic Waterways by which, perhaps, he
is best known and The Story of Wisconsin. An inconsiderable
slip, now and then, in his phraseology relating to the church,
shows him not to be a Catholic, yet not only is his treatment
of his present theme characterized by the scrupulous impartial-
ity of scholarship, but he is also plainly alive to the nature of
the august testimony borne by the glorious martyrs and con-
fessors of the time to that Faith which is alone capable of
inspiring such heavenly ambitions and of sustaining such
heroic fortitude. In one paragraph of the Introduction he says :
" The story of the hardships and sufferings of the devoted
[Huron] missionaries, as told by Rochemonteix, Shea, and
Parkman, and with rare modesty recorded in the documents of
this series, is one of the most thrilling in the annals of human-
ity. No men have, in the exercise of their faith, performed
hardier deeds." His description of the Relations themselves is
indeed stirring :

" The authors of the journals which formed the basis of the
Relations were for the most part men of trained intellect, acute
observers, and practised in the art of keeping records of their
experiences. They had left the most highly civilized country
of their times to plunge at once into the heart of the American
wilderness and attempt to win to the Christian faith the fierc-
est savages known to history. To gain these savages it was at
first necessary to know them intimately. These first students
were not only amply fitted for their undertaking, but none
have since had better opportunity for its prosecution. Their
annals are, for historian, geographer, and ethnologist, among
our first and best authorities.

" Many of the Relations were written in Indian camps
amid a chaos of distractions. Insects innumerable tormented

1897.] THE JESUIT " RELATIONS' IN ENGLISH. 813

the journalists ; they were immersed in scenes of squalor and
degradation, overcome by fatigue and lack of proper sustenance,
often suffering from wounds and disease, maltreated in a hun-
dred ways by hosts who, at times, might more properly be
called jailers ; and not seldom had savage superstition risen to
such a height that to be seen making a memorandum was
certain to arouse the ferocious enmity of the band. It is not
surprising that the composition is sometimes crude ; the wonder
is that they could be written at all. Nearly always the style
is simple and direct. Never does the narrator descend to self-
glorification, or dwell unnecessarily upon the details of his con-
tinual martyrdom ; he never complains of his lot ; but sets
forth his experience in phrases the most matter-of-fact. His
meaning is seldom obscure. We gain from his pages a vivid
picture of life in the primeval forest, as he lived it : we seem
to see him upon his long canoe journeys, squatted amidst his
dusky fellows, working his passage at the paddles, and carrying
cargoes upon the portage trail ; we see him the butt and scorn
of the savage camp, sometimes deserted in the heart of the
wilderness, and obliged to wait for another flotilla or to make
his way alone as best he can. Arrived at last at his journey's
end, we often find him vainly seeking for shelter in the squalid
huts of the natives, with every man's hand against him, but
his own heart open to them all. We find him, even when at
last domiciled in some far-away village, working against hope
to save the unbaptized and the unrepentant ; we seem to see
the rising storm of opposition, invoked by native medicine-
men who to his seventeenth-century imagination seem devils
indeed and at last the bursting climax of superstitious frenzy
which sweeps him and his before it. Not only do these de-
voted missionaries the world has never, in any field, witnessed
greater personal heroism than theirs live and breathe before
us in the Relations ; but we have in them our first competent
account of the Red Indian, at a time when relatively uncon-
taminated by contact with Europeans. We seem, in the Rela-
tions, to know this crafty savage, to measure him intellectually
as well as physically, his inmost thoughts as well as open %
speech. The fathers did not understand him, from an ethno-
logical point of view, as well as he is to-day understood ;
their minds were tinctured with the scientific fallacies of their
time. But with what is known to-day, the photographic re-
ports in the Relations help the student to an accurate picture
of the untamed aborigine, and much that mystified the fathers
VOL. LXIV. 52

8 14 THE JESUIT " RELATIONS' IN ENGLISH. [Mar.,

is now by aid of their careful journals easily susceptible of
explanation. Few periods of history are so well illuminated as
the French regime in North America. This we owe in large
measure to the existence of the Jesuit Relations"

In transcription and translation Mr. Thwaites has been
assisted by a staff of five competent linguists, and in the col-
lation of matter by the librarians of the Bibliotheque Nationale
and Bibliotheque de 1'Arsenal, Paris ; of the Lenox and Astor
Libraries, New York ; of the libraries of Harvard College and
McGill University ; of the Parliament Library, Ottawa, and of
the Jesuit colleges at Montreal, New York City, Georgetown,
Woodstock, Fordham, and in the Netherlands. Numerous
American antiquaries have rendered generous aid. To diligent
commercial enterprise, therefore, which has spared neither labor
nor expense, has been added the enthusiasm of many who
worked for love.

Adverse criticism of the result is almost out of question.
Indeed, it appears that the only serious drawback is the price
of the series, or, rather, the quite reprehensible feature of lim-
iting the edition, which encourages a sort of literary selfishness
that is altogether inexcusable. In a spirit of minor criticism
mention could well be made of a certain over-scrupulousness
in translation which sometimes gives at least awkward English,
if it does not positively mislead. (Cf. vol. ii. p. 47, " Mes con-
jurez," rendered " My conspirators"; p. 55, "ce benign Sauveur
du monde " " this benign Saviour," etc.) Awkwardness, to be
frank, is a failing from which Mr. Thwaites himself is not wholly
free ; for example, the contraposition of " mobility ' and " no-
madic," vol. i. p. 22 : " The intelligence and mobility of the
Hurons rendered prospects more promising than with the rude
and nomadic Algonkins." Or, p. 24, "They looked and listened
with awe at the Mass." It is also to be regretted that a
work upon which so much care has been bestowed should not
be quite perfect typographically. In a cursory perusal of the
Introduction one's eye is met by the misplaced parenthesis, p.
24; the spelling " Raymbault," p. 24, and " Raimbault," p. 32;
"skillful," p. 33; "carefuly," p. 41.

The series falls into seven parts, corresponding to the seven
great Jesuit missions : (i) Among the Abenakis, (2) the Montaig-
nais, (3) at Quebec and Montreal, (4) among the Hurons, (5) the
Iroquois, (6) the Ottawas, and (7) in Louisiana. Volumes i. and
ii. are devoted to Acadia (1610-1614), where the Abenakis pre-
dominated. They contain two pamphlets by Marc Lescarbot,

1 897.] THE FIREFLY. 815

Parliamentary Advocate, and a Letter Missive of M. Bertrand,
both of whom were opposed to the Jesuits at Port Royal.
Their statements afford, as Mr. Thwaites rightly says, a dramatic
background to the more virile compositions of the missionaries.
These consist of five letters by Pierre Biard, two dissertations
by Joseph Jouvency, one letter by Ennemond Masse", and one
" Relatio Rerum Gestarum" to whose authorship no aame is as-
signed. Each volume deserves more extended notice than
space now permits, and it is the purpose of THE CATHOLIC
WORLD to discharge that duty towards subsequent volumes as
opportunity offers.

The value of the Jesuit Relations is indeed inestimable, since
they recount the deeds of those black-robed heroes who, bap-
tizing the virgin soil of our country with their life-blood, have
beyond doubt established upon its future a lien which is en-
grossed in the Book of Life.

THE FIREFLY.

BY JOHN JEROME ROONEY.

FIREFLY flits across the heavy night,

The darkness trembles in the living light :
The startled clod beholds the little blaze
And cries aloud in wondering amaze :
" This is our marvel none has seen before
The Light. has conquered, Darkness is no more!

O foolish clod ! a stir, the north-wind's breath-

The firefly dies a passing firefly's death,

And, as he sheds his fleeting, midnight ray,

The nightless Sun rejoices in his day !

816 THE ETHICS OF LIFE INSURANCE. [Mar.,

THE ETHICS OF LIFE INSURANCE.

HE complexities of a high civilization awaken
duties and responsibilities unknown to a simpler
form of living. A religious mind, with its im-
plicit reliance on an overruling Providence, is
very apt to leave the future to what may hap-
pen, and believing that all things work together unto good, take
no care of the morrow or its entailed obligations. It belongs
to a simple mind and a simpler mode of life to be content
for the day both with the good and the evil thereof. Their
sufficiency prevents the formation of that state of mind that
borrows trouble for the future. But as we advance in thought-
fulness and consider the contingencies that the future may
have, it is deemed a part of prudence to thrust forward our
arm into the dark unknown and feel for and hold on to what
we may grasp.

If we have responsibilities for the past, we may have antici-
pated duties towards the future. Because the acts of to-day
entail responsibilities in the future, there is created an ethical
relationship which cannot be ignored. Life insurance is the
modern method of fulfilling the duties that belong to that
which is to be. The ethical side alone concerns us.

THE WONDERFUL GROWTH OF LIFE INSURANCE.

The rapid growth and the present enormous importance of
the various forms of insurance are among the striking phenome-
na that characterize our modern industrial system, and a study
of the development of this business and a consideration of the
ethical functions which it discharges in the social economy
afford an admirable illustration of the advance the human
mind has made in the full comprehension of the whole round
of obligations.

To the man of business the utility of an institution is the
sufficient reason for its existence. He is accustomed to deal
only with the useful features of his business, and seeing, as he
does, that these things could not exist if they were not found

1897.] THE ETHICS OF LIFE INSURANCE. 817

useful, he is apt to think that they came into existence for no
other reason than that they were found useful. The student
of social philosophy, however, sees at the basis of every form
of co-operation and at every stage in the development of in-
dustry a confidence and trust among men which alone make
such development possible. The economic development of
society is not primarily based on utility. Confidence and trust
among men are conditions which must exist before any use-
ful inter-relation or mutual exchange and co-operation can have
permanence.

SHARING ONE ANOTHER'S BURDENS.

The utility of insurance consists in this : that many persons
unite in sharing a risk to which all are exposed in common.
A loss which would be overwhelming to an individual is found
to be but trifling when shared by many. Statistics may show
that a certain annual loss by fire has occurred in a particular
locality for a long series of years. There is a probability that
this loss will continue. No man, of course, expects that his own
house will be destroyed, but he has a reasonable fear that it
may be. It is, therefore, better for him to unite with many of
his neighbors in the agreement that he will pay his quota in
case the loss happens to any of them ; they agreeing to pay
for his loss in case misfortune happen to him. Insurance,
then, is a form of " sharing one another's burdens " ; hence
the very large moral side it has apart from any business con-
sideration. The liability to loss, or the element of risk, is inher-
ent in every human undertaking, and the success of a man's
projects is always liable to be defeated by circumstances over
which he has no control, and by contingencies which he can-
not foresee. The various forms of insurance unite many per-
sons in sharing specific forms of risk. Such forms of co-opera-
tion give a person an added security and confidence in his
undertakings, for nothing exerts so depressing an influence on
one's activity as the continual dread of failure. It is the prac-
tice of every prudent man to diminish his risks wherever it is
possible. When a misfortune does happen to a man, then his
loss is diffused among many instead of being concentrated on
one. It is extensive, not intensive.

The principle at the basis of this business is deserving of
careful study by those who are interested in the promotion of
social welfare. The principle is capable of many beneficial

8i8 THE ETHICS OF LIFE INSURANCE. [Mar.,

extensions. Any intelligent consideration of the problems of
old-age pensions and compulsory insurance must be based on
a correct understanding of the true theory of life insurance.
The fate of all such measures will be decided by the actual
experience accumulated in life insurance companies.*

INTERESTING FACTS OF HISTORY.

A study of the growth of life insurance would be interest-
ing from many points of view. We can here give only a mere
outline. Our knowledge of the economic institutions existing
in past ages is not as complete as could be desired. It is not
probable, however, that life insurance existed before our times.
Ulpian, the Roman jurist, computed a table to ascertain the
value of life-rents in estates. The mediaeval guild had some
benefit features which might be thought to have some things
in common with modern life insurance. In England during the
sixteenth and the first half of the seventeenth centuries there
were many plans of insurance inaugurated and many annuity
schemes also put forth, but all these enterprises were mainly
speculative, and they failed because they were founded on in-
sufficient data and were started on an erroneous basis. The
history of modern life insurance may be said to begin with
the formation of a company for the " Assurance of Life and
Survivorship' in London, in the year 1762.! This company
was the first that had the essential features of modern life
insurance. From this time on attention was paid to the theory
of probabilities and to tables of mortality, which respectively
form the mathematical and statistical bases of this important
business. The great development of life insurance, however,
belongs to the present century. An English writer says that
from 1706 to 1800 eight life insurance offices were founded in
England; from 1801 to 1825 twenty-four were founded; and
from 1825 to 1842 upwards of fifty-three.;):

GREAT GROWTH OF THE SYSTEM IN THE UNITED STATES.

But life insurance has attained relatively greater importance
in the United States than in any other country. This is, no
doubt, largely due to the spirit of enterprise which character-

* The problem of old-age pensions is much discussed in England, and those who wish to
pursue the subject might read the works of Charles Booth. On compulsory insurance in
Germany, see Palgrave's Economic Dictionary, sub verbo " Insurance."

t Theory and Practice of Life Insurance, J. H. Van Amringe, p. 49.

t See Lewis Pocock on Life Assurance, p. 96.

1 897.] THE ETHICS OF LIFE INSURANCE. 819

izes our people. In no country, moreover, is the business on a
sounder or more conservative basis. There were some attempts
made in the early years of the century to start life insurance
companies ; but life insurance was not popular in those days, it
being regarded by many, as the quaint remark of a writer of
the period puts it, as " wicked to insure their lives, or to travel
in steamboats against wind and tide." The three largest com-
panies at present doing business began, in 1841, 1843, an d 1859.
The remarkable development in the business began after the
Civil War, and it has grown with an unexampled progress.
The great conservative life insurance companies stood the shock,
of the financial convulsions of 1873 and 1893 better than other
financial institutions, and the words of the famous mathemati-
cian, De Morgan, still remain true : " There is nothing in the
commercial world which approaches, even remotely, the security
of a well-established life-office." The three large companies re-
ceive annually in premiums and other income about $100,000,000,
their assets aggregate about $600,000,000, and they have
outstanding assurance to the amount of about $2,400,000,000.
The natural presumption arising from a study of the develop-
ment of such an enterprise is that to have maintained its place
in the great field of competition it must have subserved a pur-
pose of great benefit to society.

THE PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE INSURANCE.

The theory of life insurance in reality is based on a few
principles easily comprehended, and the problems it involves
are as accurately solved as mathematical analysis will allow.
To the unthinking a business of this kind might appear much
the same as other forms of business, but in no enterprise is
there such a basis of certainty, and the entire modern insur-
ance business is based on the calculations of the mathemati-
cian or the actuary. The merchant is obliged to conduct his
business by a method of shrewd guessing, and many variables
must enter into his calculations. The only important variable
that must be taken into account in life insurance is the average
rate of interest on capital, and the variations in this rate are of

importance only in long periods.* There are many companies
that spring up, and benefit associations that enjoy a brief pros-
perity by promising "something for nothing"; but such enter-

* Of course the daily fluctuations in the rate of interest are very great, but the average
rate for one year will not vary much from the average rate for the next year.

820 THE ETHICS OF LIFE INSURANCE. [Mar.,.

prises come to naught because they ignore the perfectly well
ascertained laws according to which any life insurance must be
conducted if it hopes to meet with success. The insurance
company calculates the probability of a man's death, basing its
calculations on statistical data. In consideration of the receipt
of an annual sum paid by the insured, the company agrees to
pay a definite sum at the end of a stated term of years, or at
his death if it occurs before that period expires. He thus is
accumulating an investment, and at the same time providing
against loss in the event of his death occurring before the end of
his expectation of life. The business commends itself to con-
servative men because it is regarded by them rather as a sound
investment than as a speculative venture.

EVERY MAN MORTGAGES THE FUTURE.

Every man bases his future plans on a certain expectation
of life. On the presumption that he will live a certain number
of years he forms many projects and assumes responsibilities
which he expects to be able to discharge. He contracts debts,
forms business projects, marries and has a family, and takes on
himself many duties which he expects to be able to fulfil. His
expectation of life warrants him in assuming all these obliga-
tions. Death, however, is a contingency which may step in at
any moment and veto all his projects. In this event the re-
sponsibilities and obligations which he has taken on himself will
fail to be discharged unless he has made provision for their
discharge by others. The prudent man when he assumes
an obligation minimizes his risks, and where he believes he
cannot fulfil a duty he tries to provide for its fulfilment in
other ways. The ethical element of the matter is found in the
question : How far is a man obliged to make provision for the
discharge of his responsibilities when he becomes unable to dis-
charge them through no fault of his own ? A man is bound
to provide for the bringing-up of his children, and in the event
of his death this duty often devolves on the charity of society.

Life insurance is a mode in which a man may make pro-
vision for the discharge of his duties when he becomes unable
to fulfil them. There seems to be no good ground for ques-
tioning the proposition that a man should make such provision
if it does not entail too great a present sacrifice. The ques-
tion in life insurance, then, is merely a question of means :
whether a man can provide for this contingency better in this

1897.] THE ETHICS OF LIFE INSURANCE. 821

way than in another? Life insurance is a means of enabling a
man to have his work carried to completion ; it enables him to
safely enter upon projects, in the assurance that they will be
carried to completion so far as material resources are necessary
for that end. A man in ordinary circumstances need not com-
mit his work to the charity of society, or expose his projects
to the risk of failure, when he can provide that they shall be
carried out as obligations of justice. The remarkable growth
of life insurance among the people indicates that this matter is
coming to be looked upon in some such light. What appears
to be a question of pure profit and loss appears thus to have
an ethical basis as well, and the principle of life insurance is
deserving of study by those who are interested in the practical
aspects of social problems.

A SHEET-ANCHOR INSPIRES CONFIDENCE.

Life insurance to-day is not so much a guarantee against
loss as it is an investment. Thus there are many forms of
policies, and a life insurance company does a large trust busi-
ness. It receives the premiums from the insured, which it in-
vests at interest. At the end of the period it pays this invest-
ment to the insured. Thus we find to-day that many profes-
sional men do not wish to be hampered in their work by look-
ing after the investment of their money, and prefer to invest
in life insurance. The company then takes charge of the in-
vestment of their money, and when their days of active service
are over they have a form of security held in high esteem in
the commercial world, and have not been burdened with the
care and anxiety of looking after the investment. The differ-
ence between an investment in a savings-bank and in an insur-
ance policy is that, while the bank pays a slightly higher rate,
the insurance company gives a guarantee against loss in event
of death.

There are two extremes that one should guard against : an
extreme of thrift and an extreme of extravagance. If one puts
away a stated sum each year for contingencies, he will then be
in a position to realize the opportunities of the present to the
extent of his capacity. These forms of investment are now in
the reach of all who receive moderate incomes. True living
consists in realizing one's noblest capacities, and an extreme of
thrift often makes life narrow and stunted, just as an extreme
of extravagance leads to a waste of capacity.

822 THE ETHICS OF LIFE INSURANCE. [Mar.,

FORESIGHT IN CREATING HOMES.

We may in the future look for a great extension of the
principle of insurance. Working-men are aware of its great
importance, and are anxious for insurance suitable to their
needs. Those engaged in hazardous occupations are excluded
from regular insurance companies, but they have their unions
with their provisions for sickness, accident, or death. Many
large employers encourage, and even assist, their men in taking
out insurance policies. The practices in vogue in such places
as the Krupp establishment in Essen, or at the Familistere of
Guise in France, are deserving of careful study.* Another
very excellent plan is that which has been organized for
the purpose of promoting better housing of the people in large
cities. The company sells a house to a man, for which he pays
at first a reasonable cash installment ; the remainder he pays in
monthly installments in the form of rent, which are so distri-
buted and graded as to pay for the house in a period of years.
The company also insures the buyer's life, he paying the pre-
mium in his monthly installments ; and thus, in the event of
his death, his family has a home free from encumbrance.

NEED OF GOVERNMENTAL INSPECTION.

There are forms of insurance which have appeared of late
years that ought to be subject to the rigid supervision of the
state and controlled by stringent laws. The poor and indus-
trious are often the victims of the irresponsible. The insuring
of infants is forbidden in some places, and the insuring of chil-
dren is a practice that has many dangers. Many companies
which do business of this kind are financially sound and able
to discharge their obligations. But there is a systematic effort
made to get people of small incomes to take insurance for
small amounts when it is quite certain that after awhile they
will allow their policies to lapse. In a company which does an
ordinary life insurance business a policy cannot lapse after two
or three annual premiums have been paid on it. A poor person,
however, will keep up the insurance on a child for a few months,
and then allow the policy to lapse.

All this points to the necessity of strict government super-
vision in a business in which not only individuals and corpora-

* See an interesting account of the Familistere of Guise in THE CATHOLIC WORLD.

1 897.]

THE ETHICS OF LIFE INSURANCE.

823

tions but all society has much at stake. Life insurance has,
indeed, become of such importance, and the utility of govern-
mental supervision so obvious, that nearly every State in the
Union has a special commissioner, or superintendent of insur-
ance, whose duty it is to see that all laws relating to the various
forms of insurance are complied with. All companies doing
business in a State are obliged to make annual reports of their
financial condition to him and to hold their records subject to
his inspection. The companies are also required to maintain a
reserve to meet their liabilities ; and if they fail to comply with
the provisions of the law, they can be compelled by the State
officer to discontinue business in that State. This governmental
supervision, except in cases where it may be vexatious and
without any obvious motive, works to the advantage of both
parties the insurers and the insured. It states conditions which
all companies must comply with, and thus it raises the plane of
competition. Again, it stands between the company and its pa-
trons and protects the interests of the latter. A business of
this kind, therefore, under reasonable public supervision is not
so liable to suffer from abuses; and there is not much doubt
that a great part of the extension of the life insurance business
is due to the security given to the public by the careful public
supervision it has always been under.

824 " THE AMBASSADOR OF CHRIST." [Mar. y

( i

THE AMBASSADOR OF CHRIST. '*

: T is not the least significant thing in the progress
the Church is making in America to remark the
considerable interest displayed by leading pre-
lates in the present and future education of the
clergy. The highest hill in the environment of
the metropolitan city of the country is now surmounted by
a magnificent institution on which the major part of a million
of dollars was thought too little to lavish in order to secure
the best type of sacerdotal character. In the North-west the
wisdom of an archbishop postpones the building of his cathe-
dral for a generation and devotes his best energies to the
creation of a zealous and enterprising priesthood. The same
policy obtains on the Pacific slope. It is not without its deep
significance that the best thought and choicest energy of the
leaders of the hierarchy are busied with the formation of the
priestly character ; for not a little of the progress of the
church in the generation to come depends on the kind of
men who stand at the altar and fill the pulpits.

Cardinal Gibbons has done his share of this work by giving
us a guide to sacerdotal perfection. The Ambassador of Christ
is a manual of clerical life. It lays down the rules of con-
duct and teaches the principles which inform and guide the
priest from boyhood to death. For those who have in
any measure mistaken the spirit of their vocation, the
right corrections are offered ; and especially for aspi-
rants to the sanctuary the perspective is corrected from
oblique or sordid views to noble ones. The true ideals are
here most attractively proposed, mistaken aims though hidden
by self-love are uncovered, and right standards are established.
True ambitions, high motives, noble aspirations are everywhere
breathed into the reader's soul.

Although differing widely in plan from Cardinal Manning's
Eternal Priesthood, the aim of this volume is the same. Here
it is secured by teaching the same high principles, but with a
more familiar treatment. The Ambassador of Christ, especially
in its opening chapters, is a hand-book of the spirit and practice
of clerical training coincident with contemporary American

* The Ambassador of Christ. By James Cardinal Gibbons, Archbishop of Baltimore,
author of The Faith of Our Fathers and Our Christian Heritage. Baltimore and New
York : John Murphy & Co.

1897-] " THE AMBASSADOR OF CHRIST." 825

conditions a native clergy, a fuller academical preparation, and
the formative forces in our secular environment. The age of
church-building is on the wane among us, and the brick-and-
mortar priest gives place to the Ambassador of Christ. His
activity enlarges till it is coterminous with the entire popula-
tion of the parish, Catholic and non-Catholic, rather than with
those only who are " contributing families." The present clergy
already contains a very large class who dread church-building,
and are thankful that their laborious and heroic predecessors
have made it to a great extent unnecessary. This book will
mightily aid in drawing to the first place what had seemingly
and for a time been crowded back into the second place, the
divine office of winning souls.

THE MAKING OF THE PEOPLE'S PRIEST.

Another excellence of this work is that it is minute in its
instructions about how to reach the people, to know them, to
win them. The Cardinal is ever anxious to show the practical
relation between the Christian sanctuary and the Christian
home. He tells us how to become students of the people, of
their lives and their life-problems, their temptations, their long-
ings, their public affairs. This is of much value ; it is a help to
the making of the people's priest. There are clergymen who
fancy they can serve God by abstaining from the people. We
know priests of " exemplary ' lives, and whose sermons might
be put into books, and whose demeanor is equally of bookish
excellence, especially in the confessional ; and who yet do not so
much as know that their people are rotting with drunkenness
and with bad reading. They know books, but not men and
women. There are " ecclesiastics ' who seem to speak the lan-
guage of the dead centuries, are well versed in history, but
know nothing of the evils of the day ; and are helpless to stop
the common desecration of the Lord's day among their people,
and the scandalous prevalence of heathenish profanity. This
book is a thorough-going corrective of all this ; or if that be
despaired of as in a few cases we are compelled to admit it
must be it will better succeed as an antidote in the semi-
naries and with the newer priesthood. Down among the
people the Cardinal brings his sacerdotal reader; or better say,
up to the level of men's souls he brings the theoretical priest,
raising him out of the dark well from the bottom of which he
may have been viewing the stars at noonday.

The fruit of such reading is not the churchman, whose
ideal is mainly to keep out of the way of trouble, but the pas-

826 " THE AMBASSADOR OF CHRIST:' [Mar.,

tor of souls trained and inspired with the practical purpose of
keeping immortal souls out of everlasting trouble. The priest
who reads this book and assimilates its teaching, will become
a true priest and a true pastor of souls. The standards of the
Gospel, the maxims of the saints, the lessons of experience,
the warnings of failures all are given in simple, pleasant, force-
ful style, fitted to generate and perpetuate a habit of unflinching
loyalty to Jesus Christ and his people, whether in the true fold
or out of it. Love for the poor and the fallen breathes in
every page. Love for the tabernacle and its enthroned occu-
pant is everywhere taught.

PLACE HIGH IDEALS.

Low views this is the blight of the priesthood. There is
an estimate of clerical excellence which actually concentrates
everything praiseworthy in the high title of " a safe man." It
means that priestly happiness consists in being let alone by the
people and promoted by the bishop. A note of sacerdotal
sanctity is that one is never mentioned in the newspapers and
this for a man in public religious office at the end of the
nineteenth century! An "edifying priest," according to this
view, is one rounded out with smooth mediocrity often pom-
pous mediocrity. Our Cardinal corrects this estimate, and gives
the true view. His words are stimulating, sometimes stinging
to dull hearts, who hope to win a crown by doing no harm,
and do not fear to lose one by omitting to do much good.

These chapters take the priest from the dawn of his voca-
tion, through college and seminary into the sanctuary, and
finally through the scenes of his active life, and the seclusion of
his prayerful hours, to his own happy death amid the tears of
his people. Wise with matured experience in a kindly and
successful episcopate, the author's pages may be used, in nearly
every part of the book, as points for daily meditation, so
spiritual, and yet so matter of fact, is the treatment of the
topics, so replete with Scripture references, citations from the
Fathers and the sayings of the saints. Scenes are sketched,
thoughts are made to grow into purposes, and everywhere the
high standard is insisted on as the only worthy one, and,
generally speaking, as the only safe one. As for example :

" The true priest has the noblest mission on earth, not only
because he offers up the Lamb of God on the altar, but also
because he immolates himself on the altar of duty and charity
in behalf of his fellow-beings. His whole life is a perpetual
sacrifice, and self-sacrifice is an evidence of a magnanimous soul."

1 897.] " THE AMBASSADOR OF CHRIST" 827

Again : " As the envoy of Jesus Christ he upholds and vindi-
cates the rights and prerogatives of God among the people to
whom he is sent, just as a minister plenipotentiary of the civil
government sustains the power and the majesty of the nation
that he represents. He is furnished with the credentials of a
divine embassy, and is empowered to prescribe the conditions
on which men may enter into a treaty of reconciliation and
peace with the King of kings."

A ZEALOUS PRIESTHOOD IS THE GLORY OF THE CHURCH.

This work of our American Cardinal is, therefore, both the
expression and the fruit of his veneration for the Christian
priesthood. He knows that heavenly vocation well ; by the
divine evidence of his own interior call, by many years of ac-
tive ministry, and by the practical lessons of the episcopal office.
" A pious, learned, and zealous priesthood is the glory of the
Church of God," are the opening words of the preface, and that
note is the dominant one throughout. The whole book is a per-
fectly polished gem, whose flashing lights reflect every tint of
personal holiness, zeal for souls, Christian manliness, cultivated
intelligence, heroic courage which form the priestly character.
Here may young men's souls feel the germs of vocation to the
altar warmed into life as by genial sunshine an allurement more
attractive than the pomp of war, more enthralling than the
purest love of maiden. Here may the busy pastor of souls un-
cover again the springs which have gradually been hidden by
the dead leaves of daily routine, springs of reverence, of sym-
pathy, and of tender love for souls. In this book many who
have stopped timidly on the bold course of principle, because
shadows of human criticism have crossed them, will learn to
move onward with unfaltering step.

Three great ideas are harmonized in this book, the emphatic
ones among the many treated of. One is the high standard of
priestly personal perfection ; the second is zeal for the Catholic
people ; the third is love for our non-Catholic brethren. The
latter is so prominent a feature, that to some who have jogged
along for many years to the beat of the humdrum, it will make
the whole book a plea for missionary work.

In fact this book has a distinct missionary tone. Nearly the
entire preface is devoted to the missionary outlook in America.
It is a sugge'stive fact that the author's other great book, The
Faith of Our Fathers, was made up of lectures to non-Catholics
given in his early episcopal career in North Carolina. Still true
to this early inspiration, the author in the present volume

828 " THE AMBASSADOR OF CHRIST: [Mar.,

tells his brethren of the clergy what makes an Ambassador of
Christ worthy of his place in the eyes of observant non-Catholics,
and points out the way to win them. Some of his most in-
teresting chapters are special instructions and exhortations for
convert-making.

In the chapter on the " Instruction and Reception of Con-
verts ' the aggressive spirit of the Catholic Church is well
developed. ''Her motto is onward" says the Cardinal. "She
is militant not merely in the sense that she has to endure as-
saults and persecutions, but also because her mission is to gain
conquests, not indeed with the material sword, but with ' the
sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.'

A PRIEST'S VOCATION is MISSIONARY.

The claim of our fellow-countrymen, separated from the true
religion, is recognized. It is recognized as a real claim, arising
not only from the providential kinship of national ties, and
those of a personal or business or social nature, but above all
from the command of Jesus Christ, " Going, therefore, teach all
nations." This, as the Cardinal plainly shows, rests upon the
priesthood of our day, no less than it did upon the great per-
sonages who first received it. The Christian ministry is aposto-
lic and missionary in all ages and in all countries. That it is
meant by God to be so in a special sense in our day and
country, Cardinal Gibbons proves, both by stated arguments
and by constantly repeated references to facts and principles
throughout the book. This is as it should be. It is of the
utmost value to God's Church, that the official leader of the
American clergy should emphasize as an ordinary duty of the
parish priest, what has heretofore been too often relegated to
the vague, regions of the heroic. Another advantage is that the
author goes into details in this matter, tells how to preach and
lecture and pray and converse and read and exercise charity,
with a view to the noblest of all ends, the salvation of the
most necessitous of souls. Convert-making is, according to the
Cardinal, the parish priest's crown of glory. He thereby shows
himself a true brother of his fellow-citizens, as well as a loving
pastor of souls. A practical comment upon the Cardinal's
words, is his recent institution of a band of missionaries for non-
Catholics in the diocese of Baltimore, thus setting apart some
of his own diocesan priests, to work exclusively for conversions
in immediate co-operation with the parish clergy.

As an instance of the continual mindfulness of the Cardinal
of the claim of our separated brethren, we notice some very

1897-] " THE AMBASSADOR OF CHRIST" 829

practical remarks in his chapter on sick-calls and funerals, one
of the best in the book. He shows how one may save the liv-
ing in caring for the dying, and in the last offices over the
dead. The day will come, we hope, when the visitation of the
sick, both in town and in country, will mean the consolation of
all the sick of every creed and of no creed by the priestly charity
of our clergy. At any rate, in the sick-room of a Catholic there
are often found non-Catholic friends, including relatives and the
attendant physician. Many conversions have resulted from the
object-lesson of the church's farewell to the departing soul, and
upon this the Cardinal enlarges with vigor and with various
illustrations from actual life.

VERNACULAR PRAYER.

The following extract is of much interest : " In some parts
of the United States, the custom is observed [at funerals] of
reading the prayers of absolution in English, after they have
been recited in the language of the Liturgy ; and there is no
doubt of the good impression it produces on the congregation.
I was informed by a venerable prelate from New Zealand, and
by another from Cape Colony, that the same practice obtains
in their dioceses with most edifying results. These prayers,
authorized by the church and consecrated by centuries of usage,
abound in Scriptural allusions appropriate to the solemn occa-
sion, and, when distinctly and reverently repeated in the ver-
nacular, they command the attention of the hearers. They un-
fold to them the richness and hidden beauty of our Liturgy,
of which some of them, perhaps, never before had a glimpse ;
and they serve to convince them that our Ritual, when under-
stood, appeals to the reason, as well as to the emotional nature,
of man. A priest of this diocese was recently called to per-
form the funeral service at the house of a deceased convert.
All the attendants at the obsequies were Protestants, and they
manifested a shy and reserved demeanor towards the officiating
clergyman. While he was reciting the prayers of the Ritual in
Latin, they frowned on him, some of them even exhibiting
marks of levity ; but when he began to read the same in Eng-
lish, they listened with close and respectful attention. And,
finally, when he preached to them, they wept through com-
punction of heart."

It is mainly through such personal and continual manifesta-
tions of interest in non-Catholics, that the priests and people of
the diocese of Baltimore, thoroughly imbued with the zeal which
characterizes their prelate, make, perhaps, the best showing of
VOL. LXIV. 53

830 " THE AMBASSADOR OF CHRIST" [Mar.,

converts, both in numbers and in quality, of any diocese in
America.

CONGREGATIONAL SINGING.

A beautiful chapter on congregational singing is incorporated.
The uses of it he thus sums up : The people are " engaged in
public prayer ; for every hymn, or psalm, or canticle that is
sung, is a prayer of praise, of thanksgiving, or supplication to
God. They are making an eloquent profession of faith ; for how
can a Christian proclaim his religion more openly than by stand-
ing up in the midst of the congregation and announcing in a
loud voice some truth of divine revelation ? Several years ago,
on a Sunday morning, I entered the Cathedral of Cologne, dur-
ing a Low Mass, and took a seat in the body of the church.
The vast edifice was filled with a devout congregation, repre-
senting every station in life. I observed the officer and the
private soldier, the well-dressed gentleman and the plainly-clad
laborer, ladies and domestics, young and old, priests and lay-
men, mingled together and singing in the vernacular the popu-
lar sacred hymns of fatherland. They seemed so absorbed in
their devotional chant as to be utterly oblivious of everything
around them. I said to myself : what a noble profession of
faith is this ! I never attend a religious service in a German
church without being charmed and filled with delight, listening
to the hymns so sweetly intoned by the whole congregation.
Our German brethren have happily perpetuated this devout
tradition of their forefathers. By joining in sacred song the
people are preaching God's word, and often, though uncon-
sciously, they touch the heart of some wayward soul that casually
enters the church. . '*.. . The joyous anthem of praise, or
the tender notes of supplication, sometimes exert more influ-
ence in reclaiming a sinner than does the formal discourse from
the lips of the priest."

As we have already said, the loftiest and holiest conceptions
of the Christian priesthood are often given ; yet they are very
practical.

Speaking of failures, he says : " How did these Ambassadors
of Christ perish? Very probably, their downward course began
in the seminary, where they led an indolent and tepid life, with-
out betraying, however, any evidence of glaring delinquencies.
The day of ordination was contemplated by them, not with sal-
utary dread on account of the new yoke it imposed, but rather
with joy as emancipating them from seminary restraints, and
inaugurating a reign of mundane freedom. In the ministry they

1897-] " THE AMBASSADOR OF CHRIST" 831

lived without order or method. They prayed without devotion.
Their official duties were irksome and oppressive, and were per-
formed in a perfunctory manner. The studies congenial to the
ecclesiastical state became an intolerable bore. They lived on
the excitement of the hour. They were, at first, sustained by
amusements that were harmless. When these began to pall,
they indulged in more stimulating and dangerous pleasures.'
Meantime, God's grace was less abundantly bestowed on them ,"
their conscience became blunted ; their intellect clouded ; for
' the sensual man perceiveth not those things that are of the
spirit of God.' Those divine warnings, which before had stung
the soul, were brushed aside as weak-minded scruples. To every
fresh attack of temptation they offered a more feeble resist-
ance, till at last they fell easy and willing captives to the temp-
ter. It may be remarked that the two rocks which have occa-
sioned the greatest number of wrecks, are intemperance and
impurity."

THE DIOCESAN CLERGY THE PRINCIPAL WORKERS.

No object for the eloquence of pen or tongue could be
higher than the advancement of priestly virtue, especially that
of the diocesan clergy. They form a class of men second to
none for attractive qualities. They offer innumerable instances
of personal sanctity, as genuine as it is unpretentious. They are,
with few exceptions, true men, with the best of humanity's na-
tive gifts, clearness of mind and uprightness of heart. They
are worthy of the devoted love of their people, and they possess
it. But they need and they call for such books as The Ambas-
sador of Christ, to maintain their high standard, and to elevate
it yet higher.

The directors and professors of our seminaries need such a
book for specific reference, here in America and from the high-
est authority among us.

Whatever helps the parish clergy helps the whole Catholic
community. The parish priests are the roots of the tree of
life. Catholics generally know little of religion but what is
parochial. The entire truth and law of God, as embodied in
his church, is identified with the parish priests. To elevate
their character, to widen their culture, to guide them to greater
and yet greater love of the people, to increase their powers of
sanctifying their own souls and saving the souls of others, is
the most useful work possible in our day. It is well done by
Cardinal Gibbons in the Ambassador of Christ.

A THIRD edition of Flora, the Roman Martyr,
has made its appearance, which may be taken as a
proof that there is a growing demand for litera-
ture of this school. The awakening of interest in
the period of the early persecutions may be ac-
cepted as a very healthy sign for the cause of earnest religion,
for there can be no better stimulus to sincerity and steadfast-
ness in faith and noble living than the well-presented tale of
primordial constancy and enthusiasm unto death for the cause
of Christ under the persecuting Caesars. Flora is more a typical
character than a real historical one, but in its construction and
movement the story may be regarded as a veritable historical
picture.

The great difficulty with an author who chooses this period
for the background of his work is the multitude of persons and
the number of the horrors which confront him. The heart is
sickened and the mind reels from the repetition of blood-
curdling scenes of inhumanity ; while the accessaries of the
drama crowd out, so to speak, the interest in the principals.
This has been the case with most of the books which have this
theme. If the process were reversed, and a simple but vivid tale
of private life constructed, with a background of public tragedy,
in which the incidents might in due time become involved in
such a way as to exhibit all its tremendous horror, the effect
flight be more impressive and the readers more numerous.

As this story, however, stands, the literary workmanship of
Flora* is of a high order, and some of the harrowing situations
have a really beautiful and solemn close. The element of the
supernatural is occasionally resorted to, where the horror of the
situation is felt to be too overpowering, especially in a scene
describing the martyrdom of St. Laurentius ; and we are com-
pelled to own that this daring expedient justifies its use by its
efficacy in that particular scene.

* Flora, the Roman Martyr. London : Burns & Gates ; New York : Benziger Brothers.

1897.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 833

Under the heading The Philosophy of Literature * Mr. Conde
B. Fallen, Ph.D., LL.D., has published a series of lectures re-
cently delivered by himself. Although, judged by his own pre-
face to the collection, he has no sufficient apology for the pre-
sentation of this work, as he states no absolutely new truth, we
are sure many will follow his treatises with pleasure. There is
inherent novelty in the very style in which every succeeding
thinker puts forth his views even upon old subjects ; and if we
were to apply a rigid line of exclusion in literature unless
novelty in matter were to be propounded by each new aspirant,
we could not smile at the old Roman enactment prescribing a
halter for the neck of each man who came forward in the
Forum to propose a new law. The ideas and the views with
which different intellects support one central idea are worthy of
our attention, provided they be well set forth and void of pedan-
try. This condition will certainly be found in Dr. Fallen's
work. Although his style is usually ornate and serious, he
presents his arguments in an elegant and forcible way, and we
can easily conceive that on the platform they might be much
more attractive than on the cold printed page. His thoughts
flow out under the radiance of the Divine Light which he re-
gards as the fountain and the end of all philosophy, and the
relation of which to the soul of man and his ethical action
here below he conceives to be the true keynote of literature.
A deep erudition and a complete grasp of the systems and prin-
ciples which pass under his review are obvious characteristics
of Dr. Fallen's work. Its most obvious defect is a want of con-
crete illustrations and an assumption of as deep an erudition on
the part of his audience as he himself fortunately possesses.

We have a plain case of the novel with a purpose in the
story called Mademoiselle Blanche.^ The criminal carelessness
with which the law in many countries regards dangerous occu-
pations for women and children, such as acrobats, balloonists,
and sensational performers generally, is the object in the
author's mind's eye, and he has worked out his exemplification
of this evil in a way which holds the reader's interest
fairly well until the tragic ending of the tale. A still higher
object in the author's mind was to show that even a young
woman who follows the perilous profession of an acrobat and
tight-rope dancer, with all the suggestive want of drapery which
that profession necessitates, may be as pure and guileless a

* The Philosophy of Literature. By Conde B. Fallen, Ph.D., LL.D. St. Louis: B.
Herder. f Mademoiselle Blanche. By John D. Barry. New York : Stone & Kimball.

834 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

being and as devout a Catholic as any of her more fortunate
sisters. It is possible ; the human mind is a curious mass of
inconsistencies ; and in different countries different views on
many collateral points of morality prevail. The central con-
sideration in this proposition is not the subjective peccancy or
innocence of the performer, but the stumbling-block she may
be to others. It is possible for an acrobat to dress becomingly
for her profession without giving scandal ; it is equally possible
for one indifferent to this consideration with just an equal
amount of dress to attract the weak and evil-minded.

Here, however, the heroine is a young girl of pure and
blameless life and childish innocence. She attracts a man by
her performance and her theatrical costume chiefly, and not
by her character; and unfortunately she marries him. He
proves to be a selfish empty-pate, and when the girl, on the
advice of her physician, gives up her great act in the circus a
plunge from the top of a building into a net he loses his
affection for her, since she loses her attraction for the public
and ceases to earn a large salary. . To regain his affection she
resumes her perilous occupation, and is, as she feared she
would be, killed. The feat described is an actual one often
witnessed in Paris and London. It is terrific to behold, and
most certainly ought not to be permitted.

There is little in this story beyond the sketching of this
phenomenal lady acrobat and her shallow husband, yet some-
how the author contrives to make that little interesting. The
glimpses of bachelor life and the subsequent domestic one are
prettily handled in the story. The minor characters are filled
in with ease, and no undue prominence is given to any, to
detract from the central interest of the tale.

Those who like the study of quaint and obsolete forms of
English, and quaint but not obsolete forms of religious belief,
or rather fantastic eccentricity in faith, will find much enter-
tainment in the reproduction of an old work entitled Religio
Medici* by Sir Thomas Browne. This worthy flourished in the
Commonwealth period in England, and his Religio affords a
striking reflex of the fantastic jumble which the conflict of
Puritanism with the hybrid ritualism of the Elizabethan era
had produced in the minds of the religiously inclined. The
learned doctor's profession of faith, which smacks strongly in
some parts of the Pharisee in the parable, contains, along

* Sir Thomas Browne's Religio Medici and Urn-Burial. New York : Macmillan & Co.

1897.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 835

with much repudiation of things " Popish," a good many things
about praying for the dead and the possibility of miracles, side
by side with many other opinions which are purely Calvinistic.
But we are sure that the perusal of this curious old book, as
a literary curiosity, if for nothing else, must prove not only
entertaining but instructive to all who have sufficient clearness
of vision in religious matters to discern true reasoning from
sophistical. The brevity of the strong phrases, the directness
of speech, the absence of that polysyllabic padding, the
swathing of the mummified thought, so to speak, which char-
acterizes the writers of the ephemeral literature of to-day, must
come to many almost as the revelation of a new language.
The work holds, it is claimed, the place of a classic in the
literature of the somewhat barren epoch in letters in which it
was produced.

Incorporated in the volume is a second and shorter one by
the same author, entitled Hydriotaphia, or Urn-Burial. This is
an exceedingly erudite treatise on the antiquity of cremation,
together with many truly admirable reflections upon death and
immortality, and the vanity of funereal and necropolitan pomp.
It is easy to, see that a thorough familiarity with the classics
was in the author's time deemed more requisite than under mod-
ern systems of education. The work is so full of archaisms in
prosody and spelling as to need a glossary, and this will be
found at the end. An excellent mezzo-engraving of the author,
reproduced from the original, is given as a frontispiece.

Two books on the Hebrew people come to hand simultane-
ously. The larger one is a scholarly work for the use of scho-
lars, by Charles Foster Kent, Ph.D., of Brown University.*
His survey covers the period from the separation between Israel
and Judah down to the fall of Jerusalem, B. C. 586. In spirit
of treatment and literary style this survey for as such it can
only be regarded when it compresses such a .history into the
limit of two hundred pages is worthy of its subject. It at
all events enables the student to form some clear conception
of the Jewish social and political organization, and its intermit-
tent faith in the Divinity whose chosen people they were. The
days of decadence, when luxury, effeminacy, and the following
of false gods had sowed the seeds of destruction among this un-
grateful people, are powerfully depicted, but it is impossible
to avoid feeling how closely the eloquent words of the author

* A History of the Hebrew People. By Charles Foster Kent, Ph.D. New York:
Charles Scribner's Sons.

836 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

come home to our own times and social conditions. Those
deeds of excess and avarice which the Hebrew' prophets were
constantly denouncing are reproduced with painful verisimilitude
in the degenerate society of to-day, in every land where a base
plutocracy thrusts itself forward as the representative of the
highest expression of the state and the age.

The other work is a briefer history for the use of younger
readers,* and has been especially prepared with that view by H.
A. Guerber, who has produced some other historical outlines
for juvenile enlightenment. As it is intended for public-school
pupils, who embrace free-thinkers as well as Christians and
Jews, the treatment of the subject is purely secular. To achieve
this result in the case of a people whose religion was their
chief reason for national existence requires as much ingenuity
as boldness. It shows with what a delicate consideration the
sentiments of free-thinkers are regarded, and is a very striking
symptom of the tendency of the age in matters of education.
The book, it should be added, is very richly illustrated, as if it
were thought that a pictorial cornucopia ought to make up for
a paucity of merit in a more important direction.

An ingenious and pretty book for baby scholars has made
its appearance under the title Our Little Book for Little Folks.\
It is intended primarily as a home adjunct to the teacher's
efforts, and its attractiveness would seem to give promise of
being a valuable one* It contains the beginnings of many things
besides the three R's drawing, coloring, and music, for instance,
of a grade adapted to the capacity of the budding mind. The
book is admirably turned out by the publishers.

A novel with the purpose of advertising a particular training
establishment is an idea that may appear preposterous to many,
but is there anything more inconsistent in that idea than the
diversion of a stream of fiction into any other channel that is

not its natural bed ? This is the reflection suggested by a pe-
rusal of the story called Three Daughters of the United King-
dom^ A few years ago there was an English noted military ad-
venturer named Burnaby, whom nobody believed to be actuated
by any but the best intentions, and he in describing his ride to

* The Story of the Chosen People. By H. A. Guerber. New York : The American
Book Company.

f Our Little Book for Little Folks. Arranged by W. E. Crosby. New York : Ameri-
can News Company.

\ Three Daughters of the Revolution. By Mrs. Innes Browne. New York : Benziger
Brothers ; London : Burns & Gates.

1897.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 837

Khiva mentioned the benefit he derived from a certain brand
of pill. Thus he achieved a threefold result : he gave a good
thing its merit out of gratitude, he helped the makers of the
pill, and he helped the world at large to know how it could
share in his advantages. By a thousand degrees such is a better
purpose for a novel or writing of any kind than that of writers
who try to spread religious doubt as in Robert Elsmere, or to
sicken us with nastiness as in the Heavenly Twins. There are
other things in the Three Daughters, however, besides the reve-
lation of educational methods. The various adventures of the
respective heroines, who are types of Irish, English, and Scotch
wit and beauty, are diversified and entertaining, and the culmi-
nation is pleasant.

Father L. W. Mulhane has issued in an expanded form the
matter of a pamphlet published by him some time ago touch-
ing Leprosy and the Charity of the Catholic Church* This has
been done in order to satisfy a very general desire for informa-
tion on this painful yet most interesting subject. The univer-
sality of the foul scourge of leprosy is a fact which is perhaps
too much kept out of the ken of the reading world, but the
splendid sacrifices made by the devoted priests and sisters of
our holy church are just as carefully excluded from the public
view by the deliberate ignoring of their efforts by the greater
part of the press. Their attempts to stem the tide in every clime,
as well as the patient endeavors of medical science to diminish
it, are fully discussed in Father Mulhane's admirable little book.

The first volume of a new American supplement to the
Encyclopedia Britannica has been issued by the Werner Com-
pany, of New York and Chicago. The work has been edited
by Day Otis Kellogg, D.D., of Kansas State University, and it
will contain over fifteen hundred portraits and other engrav-
ings. The print is large and clear, the paper heavy, and the
binding handsome and massive. As to the contents of the
supplement, it is too early to speak unreservedly, but it is fair
to say that the work, so far as it has gone, does not show any
of that design to exclude distinguished men from its pages be-
cause of their religious principles with which similar works have
been, and we believe not altogether unreasonably, charged ; but
we wish to reserve our criticism upon this point until the series-
is complete.

* Leprosy and the Charity of the Catholic Church. By Rev. L. W. Mulhane. Akron,
Ohio : D. H. McBride & Co.

838 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

With the first volume comes an ancillary work, under the title
of A Guide to Systematic Readings in the Encyclopedia Britan-
nica. This implies that the larger work is of a much more
comprehensive and universal character than encyclopaedias
usually are, and perhaps in the case of this particular one the
implication may be to a large extent justifiable. The Guide
has been prepared by James Baldwin, Ph.D., and it shows evi-
dence of patience and good taste in the selection of its matter.
It is, in fact, in itself an encyclopaedia in little. To a great
many people brief media of information seem the best adapted
to this age of practical business ; hence the summary column of
a newspaper is its most valuable feature. To this rather numer-
ous class the Guide will doubtless supply all the encyclopaedia
knowledge they think desirable.

Lady Lindsay's book, A String of Beads, has been read, and
talked about, and some of the choicest verses have perhaps
been memorized by that portion of the English public which
has at heart the interests of the coming men and women of
Britain. Although the first edition appeared four years ago,
it seems that none of our American reviewers, especially those
connected with professedly children's magazines, has given the
book the notice which it deserves. Why has Lady Lindsay
made "a string of motley beads "? She tells her reader in the
" Dedication ' that it is

". . . just because I see
Sweet children's faces smiling as I pass,
And long to sing to them of sunlit grass,
And birds and trees, and all fair things that be."

Her verses treat successively of the garden, the house, the
sea-shore, morning and evening, stories, fancies, and other things.
We commend it alike to the boy who yet finds delight in tops
and hobby-horses, and in building castles made of clay ; and to
the girl who sings lullabies to her doll after she and dolly have
taken tea together. There is about these verses that indefin-
able charm of not being excessively childish. Their technique
is exquisite in point of execution ; their style clear as crystal,
full of the feeling which intelligent children appreciate, and
pleasantly suggestive of the spirit that permeates the prose
tales of Charles Lamb and the poetry of Robert Louis Steven-
son.

*A String of Beads. Verses for children. By Lady Lindsay. London and Edinburgh :
Adam and Charles Black.

1 897.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 839

I. BEQUEST FOR MASSES.*

The spirit in which this admirable little tract is written may
be inferred from its dedication to Lord Russell of Killowen,
" the first Catholic Chief-Justice of England since the Reforma-
tion." But Mr. Dillon is a lawyer as well as a Catholic, and,
however much he might wish that the law on the subject of
bequests for Masses for the repose of souls might be placed on
a sound basis, he does not assume that it is so placed ; though
undoubtedly he seems inclined to think that it arguably stands
upon such a basis. This, however, is purely matter for lawyers,
and is too highly academical for the general reader. Indeed
the forms for such bequests given at pages 5.5 and 58 show
very distinctly Mr. Dillon's appreciation of the danger of draft-
ing a bequest for such a use on the theory that by itself and
without support from any other principle or without being
absorbed in some legally valid consideration it could stand on
its own dignity.

Plainly a bequest for Masses where English law prevails
could only be valid as a charitable trust, and if in addition the
trust contemplated a perpetual offering of Masses in considera-
tion of an endowment in perpetuity, the necessity of its being
a charitable one became absolute. It was decided a long time
ago that property could not be tied up, so as to be inalienable,
beyond a certain limited time ; but this rule was held to apply
only to private trusts. Consequently if it could be shown that
a foundation in perpetuity to support a priest, or partly, to
support him, on the condition that he said Masses for the
dead according to the testator's intention, was a charitable
foundation the devise was good in law. But such a trust since
the Reformation in England would be for a superstitious and
popish use, and would be so held wherever English precedents
on the subject ruled. At the same time it is eminently argua-
ble in a country whose Constitution makes religious liberty
a fundamental principle that such a devise would be, in certain
conditions, distinctly within the policy of the law. If the
Catholic religion is a legal form of worship and belief in the
United States, it follows, in the absence of decisions to the
contrary, that any provision or endowment connected with that
religion which would be good in an analogous case, if made in
favor of Episcopalianism, would also be good in favor of the
Church.

* Bequests for Masses for the Souls of Deceased Persons, By William Dillon, LL.D., of
the Irish Bar and of the American Bar (States of Illinois and Colorado).

840 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

Now, a bequest to have Masses said for the testator's soul
and the souls of certain definite persons putting aside the ob-
jection that the testator is himself the beneficiary, that there is
an element of definiteness, and that the court has no jurisdic-
tion in the realm to which he and the others have gone can
clearly be made charitable by coupling it with an object of pub-
lic benefit. It would then be held that the testator's direction
concerning the saying of the Masses was not of the essence of
the trust ; no more than, if a bequest for education had coupled
with it a direction that a panegyric should be pronounced upon
the testator by the handsomest boy in the school, and with an
accent free from any suspicion of hibernicism, that the direc-
tion there would be of the essence of the trust for education.
Such an object of public benefit would be a provision, or partial
provision, for a clergyman to be employed in public duties of
worship such as are performed by parish priests, in the presence
of all who might think proper to attend divine worship, and in
the service of all who should need his offices in any way with-
in their scope. Either of these conditions would make the use
a charitable one that is to say, a bequest or devise for the
support of a parish priest engaged in the performance of the
offices belonging to that station would be charitable ; or a be-
quest or devise to have Masses said for the dead, but in public
in the presence of all who might think proper to attend, and as
an act of public worship would be unquestionably charitable
within the principles of charitable uses, apart from the hostility
of -English legal interpretation and English public policy to the
Mass as an act of religious worship.

No doubt the practical view at present is that such a be-
quest had better be made as a legacy to the individual by
name, or to a pastor and his successors, with a request to say
or have Masses said for the testator's soul, or the souls of such
others as he may direct, provided that the direction be not
framed so as to constitute a precatory trust. In other words,
the wish of the testator should be so expressed as to leave it
on the face of the document optional with the legatee or de-
visee to regard it or not, as he thinks proper.

We heartily recommend Mr. Dillon's book not only for its
exposition of the law on such bequests, but as supplying valua-
ble suggestions as to the means of working into the legal tone
of the United States at least a presumptive opinion of their
validity until the presumption is rebutted. Such a presumption
would be in accordance with the principle of the Constitution

1 897.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 841

which does not permit Congress to make a law prohibiting the
free exercise of religion ; so that bequests for Masses, for the
dead should be treated rather according to pre-Reformation
rules than by rules founded on a "public policy' which meant
hostility to the Catholic Church.

2. ITALY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.*

It would be difficult to write uninterestingly of Italy. The
history of her greatness and her weakness has been many times
retold, and from as many points of view as there have been
pens to trace the outlines of her eventful story. The sources
of her historical materials seem almost inexhaustible, so that
when a new volume comes to hand to tell us once more of her
great achievements and humiliating defeats, we are at once pre-
pared to be both interested and instructed.

Italy in the Nineteenth Century* from the graceful and untir-
ing pen of Elizabeth Wormeley Latimer, makes stirring and
suggestive reading. We find her yet the Italy of old for ever
wearing out her soul in factious struggle, living ever again the
stormy, passionate days of Dante, Giotto, and Savonarola.

But on the pen of the present writer she is never wholly
dejected. Sometimes, too, it is very hard to be brave hard
even to be hopeful. Yet she is drawn through the ordeal of
her most distressing crises with ever the prayerful promise of
a new and better future. She is often humiliated, but not with-
out honor. Often overthrown, but with something of victory
even in defeat. Parting from her to-day, the pity of the nations
as she makes another grand desperate stand for life and free-
dom, the author has still a word of trust and good cheer, that
another and brighter and more prosperous day for the Italian
people may be about to dawn.

We pray it may be so.

Covering such a lengthy and changeful period in the history
of any country must necessarily involve the amassing of an im-
mense volume of material, as well as its careful and judicious
choice. Mrs. Latimer has selected her materials well, although
we venture to submit that, the nature and sources of her
authorities are not always the most satisfactory. Especially and
most persistently do we protest against being referred to daily
or weekly newspapers for corroboration of our historical data.
Of course this may be justified, in some small degree at least,

* Italy in the Nineteenth Century, and the making of Austro-Hungary and Germany,
By Elizabeth Wormeley Latimer. Chicago : A. C. McClurg & Co.

842 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

by the great difficulties which necessarily attend upon the
writing ,of contemporaneous history. Somebody has said that it
requires at least fifty years to lend the facts which make history
their proper perspective and due proportions. The author's
chapter on the Papacy, however, which here we have specially
in mind and concerning which we are perhaps best fitted to
judge, cannot be excused upon such grounds.

On this subject Mrs. Latimer is either thoroughly misin-
formed or not informed at all. Her definition in the opening
paragraphs of an ecumenical council as " a parliament of the
civilized world held in the interests of religion ' we cannot ac-
cept. It might fit very well indeed the recent " Parliament of
Religions ' held in connection with the Columbian Exposition,
but an ecumenical council in the sense understood by the Catho-
lic Church, never !

Nor yet can we concede that " the first seven general coun-
cils were convoked by Roman emperors," except in the sense
that the temporal princes have sometimes acted under the
sanction of papal authority either antecedent or subsequent.
It is only by virtue of such sanction that these councils could
have any binding force whatever in the universal church. The
act of convoking an ecumenical council is one of purely ec-
clesiastical jurisdiction vested in the Sovereign Pontiff alone.

The author contends that the Vatican Council held in Rome
in 1869 " could not in a proper sense be called general," and
this because " It was not a council of the old Roman empire.
It was not a council at which the laity were represented with
the clergy. It was not a council at which all parts of Christen-
dom were to assist." But since neither of the two first-named
conditions are at all essential to a council in " a proper sense,"
we may dismiss them without comment. The author's denial
of the presence of the third condition concerns a question of
fact, in reply to which we have but to quote from the Bull of
Indiction, ^.terni Patris : "^Hence we will and command that
all the venerable brethren, the patriarchs, archbishops, and
bishops everywhere, so also the beloved sons, the abbots and
all other persons whose right and privilege it is to take part
in general councils, come to this 'ecumenical council convoked
by Us." In addition to this there were expressly invited " all
bishops of the churches of Oriental rite not in communication
with the Holy See " ; " all sovereign princes and rulers of all
peoples," as well as " all Protestants and non-Catholics," the
latter being exhorted in particular " to consider whether they

1897-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 843

were walking in the way marked out by Christ and leading to
eternal salvation." Who, then, were excluded?

We must really abide in our belief that the Vatican Coun-
cil was " general ' -and that, too, " in a proper sense " until
more cogent arguments to the contrary than these have been
adduced.

The forms into which the author has thrown what she con-
siders the five principal propositions contained in the Syllabus
are dangerous and misleading. Not any one of them can be
accepted without careful modification and distinction.

On the subject of Papal Infallibility a question of fact is
confounded with one of expediency. The opposition party to
the Pope's Infallibility was not concerned with the fact whether
the Pope, speaking ex cathedra, could or could not err, but
was occupied almost exclusively with what it conceived as the
dangerous consequences of elevating the belief already almost
universally accepted to the dignity of a dogma of the Catho-
lic faith.

" Setting aside this one question of opportuneness," says
Cardinal Manning (The Vat. Cone, and JDef.), "there was not in
the Council of the Vatican a difference of any gravity, and cer-
tainly no difference whatsoever on any doctrine of faith. I
have never been able to hear of five bishops who denied the
doctrine of Papal Infallibility."

In these brief remarks we have covered but three of the
twenty-odd pages devoted to the Papacy. We like to think
that in point of accuracy the remaining chapters of Italy in the
Nineteenth Century would come through the ordeal of a critical
analysis with better grace.

And yet we have reason to believe that in all she may
have said Mrs. Latimer is actuated by none but the loftiest
motives. She has striven bravely to be honest. And as such
her book deserves better at the hands of Catholics than most
of the writings of our times that have dealt from a non-Catho-
lic stand-point with questions regarding our history and our
faith.

3.- -THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF FATHER JOHN MORRIS, SJ.*

The friends of Father Morris, and indeed all students of
English Church History, will be pleased to learn that his biog-
raphy has appeared. The volume some 300 pages in 8vo is

* The Life and Letters of Father John Morris, SJ. By Father J. H. Pollen, SJ.
London: Burns & Gates ; New York : Benziger Brothers.

844 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

from the pen of the Rev. J. H. Pollen, S.J. In it may be
found a complete sketch of Father Morris, brief indeed, yet
thoroughly satisfactory. It is made up mainly of letters which
passed between Father Morris and his friends, and where these
were unavailable the author has supplied the deficiency by re-
lating concisely such facts as add to the clearness of his picture.
A fault too common in works of this sort profusion of minute
details is wholly absent in the present instance. Father Pol-
len's keynote is brevity, and those to whom this characteristic
may be disappointing will find a sufficient apology in his pre-
face.

The book is compact and complete ; it brings the reader
into close acquaintance with Father Morris ; his letters draw
aside a veil and show the man and the priest in his simplicity,
honesty, and candor. As is natural, where a life so full of ac-
tivity has been condensed into a book of this size, the reader's
interest is nowhere allowed to flag. At first Father Morris ap-
pears the playful, self-confident boy as judged from a glimpse
of his school-days at Harrow. His companions seem to have
proposed no feat which he was not willing to undertake,
sometimes with ridiculous failure as a result.

After his return from India, this happy-go-lucky spirit gave
way to a more serious turn of mind, which led up to religious
misgivings, and finally resulted in his conversion to the Catholic
faith. To watch the progress of his thoughts during this period
will give special pleasure to those interested in the wonderful
and various methods used by God in the conversion of souls.
Being awakened at first by the famous Tractarian movement,
which was then giving a new direction to the spiritual views of
many distinguished men, Mr. Morris, 'though but sixteen years"
old, began to study religious questions seriously. To this was
added a keen interest in Gothic architecture, which Mr. Pugin
was at that time reviving in England, and which found a warm
advocate in Mr. Alford, Dean of Canterbury, then vicar of
Wymeswold and tutor of Mr. Morris. These influences from a
religious and aesthetic aspect bore in upon the mind of the young
man and did much in convincing him of the truth of Catholic
doctrine.

Next the priest is met with, affectionate, firm, and so full of
zeal as constantly to employ in literary pursuits whatever spare
moments could be snatched from his regular duties. His ener-
gy in this respect urged him, when canon of Northampton, to
write the life of Thomas a Becket. Later on, although much

1897-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 845

pressed for time, he managed now and then to contribute ar-
ticles to the Dublin Review. Precision and accuracy were the
characteristic features of all his writings ; his contributions to
history, always drawn from original sources, attest the truth-
loving spirit of their writer. To Father Morris belongs the high
honor of being one of the few whose labors seem to have
changed the public opinion of our time in regard to Catholicity
during the Elizabethan epoch.

With pleasure, then, we commend the book before us ; it
clearly unfolds the truth and justice which Father Morris so
loved to set forth. The volume is a pleasant one to read ; the
style is free and lucid, and the letters of Father Morris are
very interesting. Especially is this so in his description of
" Holidays in Italy," where he gives scope to a pleasant humor
that makes one regret having reached the end. We bespeak a
kind reception for the book, .feeling confident that being so in-
teresting it is quite sure to win favor.

4. PASTORAL THEOLOGY.*

We have read with pleasure and profit the above-named
work, and find it not only well suited for the young priests
for whose instruction it was primarily intended, but also well
calculated to benefit priests generally, even those who have
had years of experience. Books treating of the priesthood, its
dignity, duties, trials and rewards, those which consider it rather
from the point of view of personal sanctification, are indeed
numerous ; but in English, at least, there is a lack of those
which consider the priest in the ensemble of his official relations,
as pastor, preacher, catechist, confessor, and as steward of the
temporalities of his parish. We have, to be sure, Canon Oakeley's
Priest on the Mission, Frassinetti's Manual, and, lately, Cardi-
nal Gibbons's excellent book, The Ambassador of Christ ; but a
Pastoral Theology was a desideratum which Dr. Stang's book
will go far to supply. He has combined extensive reading with
accurate theology ; he is happy and judicious in enforcing his
teaching with texts of Holy Scripture, with citations from the
Fathers, and with pertinent quotations from councils, notably
and properly from the various decrees of the Baltimore Coun-
cils which bear on the particular subjects treated. In setting
forth his own views, in giving advice, he is both kind and en-
lightened one that ever has the good of souls as the main

* Pastoral Theology. By Rev. William Stang, D.D., Vice-Rector of the American Col-
lege, Louvain. Societe Beige de Librairie, Brussels.

VOL. LXIV. 54

846 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar.,

point to be sought. Incidentally, as smaller matters, we are
not in fullest accord with him ; as, for example, on page 89 as
to the truth and propriety of putting before young priests,
some of whom may be foreigners, Dr. Brownson's judgment on
American character. But on the whole Dr. Stang has done
his work well, in an honest, helpful spirit, and it is an excellent
contribution in assisting priests to labor more efficiently in this
great, promising vineyard of the Lord, and much of his mate-
rial, notably his introduction to the various chapters on the
Sacraments, will serve excellently for instructions and sermons
on those important subjects. Benziger Brothers sell the book,
which is published in Belgium.

5. NOTES ON CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE.*

These notes, as the author tells us in his preface, were
originally notes for lectures delivered to students, and have
been revised with care for publication. It need hardly be
said that the work has been well done, and that as a brief
compendium of dogmatic and moral theology, it would be very
difficult to find or prepare anything better.

There is, however, an insuperable difficulty in the way of
preparing compendiums of any science ; and theological science
has no exemption from it indeed, it suffers from it more than
many others. Science, when elaborated as the modern physical
sciences have been, simply cannot be put into a nutshell, and
the same is of course true of Catholic theology. It is quite
plain that books professing to make a man his own lawyer or
physician cannot accomplish the end proposed. Many things
must be omitted, and the omissions make the truths which are
stated liable to be misunderstood.

There is, in short, no royal road to knowledge. The dan-
ger, then, and a practical one, as experience shows, is that
readers of compendiums will fancy that they know it all. If
they understand that they do not, and before venturing on dis-
cussion, or particularly before deciding on practical lines of
conduct, they consult those who have a really thorough and
professional knowledge, a compendium will be of great service,
not only by the positive information which it gives on points
of lesser intricacy, but also by the suggestion of questions
which otherwise might not occur.

And, at any rate, there is no way of instructing those who

* Notes on Christian Doctrine. By the Right Rev. Edward Bagshawe, D.D., Bishop of
Nottingham. (Benziger Brothers, American agents.)

I897-J TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 847.

have not time or ability for more profound studies except by
works of this kind, or by similar matter spoken, which is still
more liable to be misunderstood. Moreover it is extremely
desirable that the faithful, as well as those outside the church,
should know more of Catholic faith and morals than they do.
And for all the purposes which a brief exposition can serve,
these notes, as has been said, are usually well adapted, in
clearness both of arrangement and of style ; and no more open
to the objections above stated than must necessarily be the case.

6. THE GOSPEL FOR AN AGE OF DOUBT.*

This is one of the best of the many attempts made in recent
years to provide a gospel which the present age which the
author, of course rightly, calls an age of doubt will be willing
to accept. He also rightly, as it seems to us, distinguishes be-
tween the doubt of to-day, which really desires to believe some-
thing, and the destructive and scoffing unbelief of a previous age.

As usual, the gospel proposed is obtained by cutting away
from the various dogmas held by Christians those on which
there is the most divergence, and retaining those which most
strongly appeal to love, and excite hope. He does not, how-
ever, proceed by any means as far in this direction as many
have done, and often comes much nearer to distinctively Cath-
olic teaching than he seems to be aware. Of course, like others
engaged in the reconstruction of Christianity, he does not seem
to suspect that the gospel he is in search of can possibly have
been preached from the beginning, but is looking for a new
theology, to contain the best elements of all the old ones, with
more added to them, or rather naturally following from them.
Looking everywhere in a disjointed Christendom for dogma,
he of course considers it to be now in a chaotic state.

Going farther, however, than is usual in the reconstructing
process, he cannot avoid coming upon some more or less diffi-
cult problems, such as the Divine knowledge of contingent
events, which he disposes of in one very short paragraph.

The best chapter of all is probably the first, on " The Gos-
pel of a Person." He says that " the fount and origin of the
power of Christianity was, and continued to be and still is, the
Person Christ "; or that it did not reside so much in a code
of morality, however perfect, or in teachings as to the nature
of man, or his future destiny, but in the acceptance of God
in Christ. But in his own explanation of what is meant by

* The Gospel for an Age of Doubt. By Henry Van Dyke, Pastor of the Brick Church in
New York. New York : Macmillan Company.

848 NEW BOOKS. [Mar.

this, he is necessarily drawn into rather definite dogmatic state-
ments, on the whole fairly orthodox ; and it would seem that
he must see how necessary the precise definitions on the
nature and person of Christ made in the early centuries
were to preserve intact this citadel of Christianity. But like
most Protestants, he seems to imagine that the love of Chris-
tians for the God-Man, so carefully guarded and strengthened
by these early definitions, gradually faded away that he re-
ceded as it were into the distance, and that his Blessed Mother
took the place he had once held. It would only be required
to read Catholic utterances like those, for instance, of St. Ber-
nard, to show how each of these devotions, so far from weak-
ening, intensifies the other.

On the whole the book is a good and encouraging one, and
ought to be the means of helping many to a full knowledge of
the truth which the author is reaching after and trying to find
for himself and for others. It seems strange, of course, to Cath-
olics that one can go so far, can be so attracted to the real
truth, and yet stop in his tracks ; but nothing but this can
be expected, till one begins to suspect that after all the so-
called Reformation was not what all Protestants assume it to
be a step in the right direction.

NEW BOOKS.

THE CATHEDRAL LIBRARY ASSOCIATION, New York :

The Life of Father Charles Perraud. By Augustin Largent, Priest of the

Oratory. With an Introduction by his Eminence Cardinal Gibbons.
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY, Chicago :

Martin Luther. By Gustav Freytag. Translated by Henry E. O. Heine-
mann. Ancient India, Its Language and Religions. By Professor H.
Oldenberg.
THE MAYOR'S COMMITTEE of New York City :

Report on Public Baths and Public Comfort- Stations.
D. APPLETON & Co., New York :

Juvenile Offenders (Criminology Series). By W. Douglas Morrison.

NEW PAMPHLETS.

LITTLE & BECKER, St. Louis :

Style and Composition, By Rev. William Poland, S.J.
CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY BULLETIN, Washington, D. C.:

Prehistoric Law and Custom. By Frederick W. Pelly.
BROOKLYN "DAILY EAGLE" PRESS:

Thirtieth Annual Report of St. Peter's Hospital, Brooklyn, under the

charge of the Sisters of the Poor of St. Francis.
L'GLISE ORTHODOXE GRCO-RUSSE.

Controverse d'un theologien catholique remain avec un theologien orthodoxe
schismatique. Par J. B. Rohm, chanoine de Passau, traduit par E.-M.
Ommer. (Bruxelles, Soci^te beige de Librairie, 16 Rue Treurenberg.)

THERE is trouble again in the East and as
usual the unclean Turk is at the bottom of it.
The scene of massacre this time was the old battle-
ground of Crete, but the party of murder there has got the
worst of it for the present. The Cretans rose against their
oppressors and drove them into their forts. Reinforcements
were hurried forward from the mainland, but Greece here inter-
posed. All over the country the cry of sympathy with their
fellow-countrymen in Crete arose, and the government was
forced to yield to the popular demand. Gunboats had been
dispatched to Cretan waters, and one of these prevented the
landing of the Turkish reinforcements and turned them back.
This act of war was followed up by something more decided
still. Greek troops were sent to the island, and they imme-
diately attacked the Turkish forts and captured the garrisons.
Crete, there is good reason to believe, will be at last delivered
from Turkish rule, as a result of this blow.

Nothing has yet been decided regarding the Manitoba
schools. The matter has been submitted, however, for legal
opinion to the Honorable Edward Blake, and it is his opinion
that it is not in the power of the Dominion government to
compel Manitoba to restore the separate schools of the Roman
Catholics. He states at length the legal considerations which
lead to that conclusion, and as it was he who acted as counsel for
the minority in the appeal to the Privy Council in England his
opinion can hardly be questioned. He considers the terms of
the settlement proposed by Mr. Laurier infinitely more advan-
tageous to the Roman Catholic minority than any Remedial
Bill in the power of the Dominion Parliament to pass.

There is hope at last of justice being done in regard to
the claim of the Irish Roman Catholics in the matter of higher
education. Mr. Balfour recently made a statement in the
House of Commons, to the effect that if the clergy and laity
in Ireland came to an agreement on the control of a university

850 EDITORIAL NOTES. [Mar.,

the government' would provide the funds for the establishment
of such an institution. A million pounds is the sum likely to
be set apart for that purpose a very small fraction of the
amount due to Ireland by way of restitution.

Ushered in under very stormy auspices, the promised new
Education Bill in England seems destined to have a very rough
passage through the seas of debate. It differs in toto from the
bill of last year, save in the principle of bringing some relief to
the starved-out voluntary schools. The principle of decentraliza-
tion in control, so prominent a feature in last year's bill, has
been entirely abandoned. Only as a small installment of justice
is the measure accepted by the Catholic press. A grant in aid
to the voluntary schools, amounting to five shillings per head, is
offered, together with the abolition of what is known as the
6d. limit.

It is not because we admire or value titles that we are
glad to note the distinction just conferred on an Irish historian
by the sovereign. In bestowing the honor of knighthood on
Mr. J. T. Gilbert royalty has given another proof that men of
arts and letters have at least as good a claim upon its con-
sideration as successful brewers and aesthetic distillers. The
new knight is a man of whose scholarship and unselfish labors
in the cause of letters any country might be proud. He has
sacrificed many years of his life in the transcription and pub-
lication of ancient records in Celtic, Norman-French, Anglo-
Norman, and abbreviated mediaeval Latin, and given to the
world many beautiful reproductions of illuminated art in civic
charters, official deeds, and other documents buried for centu-
ries in the muniment rooms of ancient boroughs, and which
might never have seen the light but for his untiring industry
and local knowledge. His Lives of the Irish Viceroys and Street
History of Dublin are works of enormous value to the student
and the literary world generally. But these are only a frac-
tional part of the vast recondite antiquarian work to which the
world is indebted to his pen ; and it is well to say here that
much of this work w r as not completed without entailing heavy ;
pecuniary loss on the devoted author. By the dignity now
conferred upon him the gifted and estimable Catholic writer
whom we knew as Rosa Mulholland becomes Lady Gilbert.

1897-] CATHOLIC SCIENTIFIC CONGRESS. 851

INTERNATIONAL CATHOLIC SCIENTIFIC

CONGRESS.

WE point with pleasure, and in doing so call special notice
to the announcement of the great gathering of Catholic scien-
tific men at Fribourg, Switzerland, in August next. These
International Catholic Scientific Congresses have been held at
various periods, and at each successive gathering have been
growing in importance and commanding the attention of a
wider circle of scientific men. The prospective Congress of
the month of August bids fair to be the most imposing con-
clave of learning that has assembled within a decade of years.
Already the most notable scientific men of the European
universities have signified their determination to be present, if
not personally by sending a paper to be read.

The topics discussed will cover a wide range of scientific
thought. All these papers will be published later and sent to
the members of the congress.

The real value of such gatherings of science, besides consti-
tuting a great people's university in which scientific men secure
a larger audience before which they may place the fruits of
their original research, it gives these men an opportunity of
meeting each other, and no little advantage flows from such
meeting.

American scholars ought to be well represented in this sum-
mer gathering. In the last congress there were some few
American names, particularly some who had European affilia-
tions. That congress was not well known. But in the present
congress American scholars, laymen as well as cleric, ought to
figure largely. Dr. Zahm in his subjoined letter announces the
conditions of membership.

" On the ninth of next August, in the beautiful university
town of Fribourg, Switzerland, the International Catholic Scien-
tific Congress will hold its fourth triennial meeting. Its sessions
at Paris in 1888 and 1891, and at Brussels in 1894, have passed
into history as the most remarkable Catholic assemblages of the
kind the world has yet witnessed. The amount of work ac-
complished by these three congresses, considering the many
difficulties to be overcome, was immense, whilst the enduring

852 CATHOLIC SCIENTIFIC CONGRESS. [Mar.,

good which resulted to the church from these reunions has
been beyond calculation.

" But great as was the success of the first three congresses, it
is the desire of the promoters of the coming congress, especially
blessed by our Holy Father the Pope, to make its success still
more marked and its influence even more wide-felt. From
present indications there is no doubt that this desire will
be fully realized, for already the number of those who have
been enrolled as members reaches nearly two thousand, and
the number is daily augmenting. Among those who have al-
ready given in their adherence are the most distinguished scho-
lars of Catholic Europe. Along with them are cardinals, arch-
bishops, and bishops from every country of the old world, all
vying with one another in furthering a movement of which they
both individually and collectively appreciate the supreme im-
portance.

"The object of the congress is, as already well known, to ex-
cite and develop the scientific activity of Catholics ; and, to at-
tain this object, it makes a periodical appeal to all Catholics
in any country whatsoever who are interested in the scientific
movement, and invites them to take part in the proceedings.

" Any one may become a member by the paying of the sum
of ten francs. This amount entitles one to a ticket of admission
to all the meetings of the congress and to all its published re-
ports. The Comptes Rendus of the last congress amounted
to nine good-sized volumes, which are worth far more than the
price of admission to membership. These publications embrace
not only a full account of the proceedings, but also contain all
or nearly all of the papers which are prepared or read by its
members. When one reflects that these communications are
several hundred in number on all scientific subjects, except the-
ology, viz.: on religious sciences, on philosophy, history, biology,
physics, mathematics, anthropology, philology, Christian art, juri-
dical, social, economical, and medical sciences, etc.; that all sub-
jects are treated by specialists, and that the information given
is fully up to date, it will be seen that the published reports of
the congress constitute a veritable library of valuable informa-
tion which should be in the possession of every one who would
be fully abreast with the march of contemporary science.

" Hitherto the number of American representatives at the
congress has been very limited, while those who took an active
part in its proceedings was still more so. This year it is ar-
dently desired that the number may show a substantial in-

1 897.] CATHOLIC SCIENTIFIC CONGRESS. 853

crease. Especially is it hoped that there will be a large repre-
sentation from the ranks of the hierarchy, a representation that
will be at least in some measure commensurate with that of
the hierarchy of Europe and with the greatness of the Ameri-
can commonwealth. An earnest invitation to attend the congress
is extended to the members of the various religious orders, to
the professors of colleges and universities, to the friends and
promoters of the summer and winter schools, to all, in fine,
who are interested in the progress of science or who are de-
sirous of contributing in a most effective manner to the welfare
of Holy Church.

" All papers intended .to be read before the congress should
be written in French, Latin, or German, and should be in the
hands of the Secretary-General by May 15. Papers written in
English will be translated by the Committee on Organization
into French or German, as the author may elect.

" Among the crowds of visitors to Europe next summer there
will doubtless be many who have so far had no thought of at-
tending the congress. All these, clergy and laity, will find it to
their interest to spend a few days at Fribourg. They will there
have an opportunity of meeting many of the most distinguished
scholars of the church, and of combining instruction with
pleasure in a manner which would be impossible elsewhere.

" Let us, then, have a large contingent of Americans at
Fribourg next August. No one will regret coming ; on the
contrary, it will prove a source of inspiration and of happy
memories that will be as enduring as it will be beneficent.
Should any find it impossible to attend the sessions of the con-
gress, let not this prevent their becoming members ; but let
them send in their names at once to either the secretary, Pro-
fessor Dr. Kirsch, 23 Grand Rue, or Professor Dr. Fietts, 9
Grand Rue, Fribourg, Switzerland. Either of these gentlemen
will be pleased to forward to all applicants full information
about the congress."

Those who wish to do so may address themselves to Rev. J.
A. Zahm, C.S.C., President of the International Scientific Catho-
lic Congress for America, 19 Via Dei Cappuccini, Rome, Italy.

854

AUTHENTIC SKETCHE-S OF

[Mar.,

AUTHENTIC SKETCHES OF LIVING CATHOLIC

AUTHORS.

REV. HENRY A. BRANN, D.D., was born in Parkstown,
County Meath, Ireland, on August 15, 1837. He came to this
country with his parents in 1849, an< ^ went to the public school
in Rahway, N. J., and afterwards to the parochial school in
Jersey City, N. J. His . classical education was begun in St.
Mary's College, Wilmington, Del., and finished in St. Francis
Xavier's College, New York, where he was graduated in 1857.
His theological studies were made in St. Sulpice, Paris, where

he spent three years, and fin-
ished in the American College,
Rome, where he spent two years.
He was ordained by Cardinal
Patrizzi, as the first priest and
the first doctor of the American
College, in 1862.

Dr. Brann began to write
early in life for newspapers and
magazines. Many of his ar-
ticles have been published in
this magazine and in the
American Catholic Quarterly
Review. He has edited a set
of readers for Catholic schools.
His best known works are,
Curious Questions, Truth and
Error, The Age of Unreason,
and a Life of Archbishop Hughes. The doctor was for nine-
teen years in this city the pastor of St. Elizabeth's Church,
which he built at Washington Heights, and has been for
nearly seven years the rector of St. Agnes' parish, where he
has built a beautiful parochial school.

Miss EDITH BROWER'S home is in Wilkes-Barre", Pa.
Though born in New Orleans, she has lived in the North
nearly all her life, and as if to emphasize her translation from
the South in that section of it " which has," she says, " always
elected, or tried to elect, a Republican President."

REV. HENRY A. BRANN, D.D.

1 897.] LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS. 855

Her first story, " Terry," which appeared in Harper's Weekly
in 1888, dealt with mining life. The majority of her stories,
indeed, are set in this picturesquely interesting milieu. Wilkes-
Barre, though a big town, has some of the idyllic charm of a
country village a charm not injured by the collieries with which
it is ringed about. In order to familiarize herself thoroughly
with the daily existence of the mining population, Miss Brower
once spent a short time in a mining settlement, living in the
family and style of an " inside ' stable boss.

She invests the lives of these grimy human moles with much
brightness. With a rich fund of humor, that salt of feeling and
understanding, she is deeply sympathetic, but most intelligently
so. To perceive this one need only read that sweetest of her
stories, " Barney McCrea's Saint." It is a prose poem. More-
over, she has the " literary conscience ' to a superlative degree.
It is her curse, she says. No critic could appraise her work
with the severity of her own inexorable demands.

Although Miss Brower has achieved a flattering success in
the fascinating field of the short story, the domain of the essay
is the one in which her powers find their fittest exercise and
best expression. She has contributed a number of keen, straight-
from-the-shoulder articles to the Contributors' Club in the At-
lantic Monthly, besides several essays full of originality, clear
thought, and cogent reasoning. The first of these, "Is the
Musical Idea Masculine?" in the March Atlantic of 1894, created
great interest, and not a little heated controversy by its bold as-
sertions concerning woman as an emotional being. It was copied
widely even a Constantinople publication printing it in part.

" The Meaning of an Eisteddfod," a remarkably scholarly
paper which appeared the following year, kindled the Welsh
people all over the land to fiery enthusiasm and brought down
an avalanche of letters and resolutions upon the author.

Perhaps it is in the article on E. A. MacDowell, the Ameri-
can composer and pianist, printed in the March Atlantic of 1896,
that Miss Brower is at her best. Miss Brower, being a true
lover of music and a pianist as well, brought to her task an
intelligent appreciation of Mr. MacDowell's ability.

She is a woman of remarkably earnest character, taking hold
of life with all her force and seeking to add to the sum total
of human good by the utmost that can derive to it from her
own individual efforts. Outside her literary work, her chief in-
terest is in an " Improvement Society ' which she herself organ-
ized in her own town. JOHN J. A BECKET.

856

LIVING CATHOLIC AUTHORS.

[Mar.,

GEORGE HARRISON CONRARD, whose lyrics and sonnets are
now attracting attention on both sides of the Atlantic, was
born in Ohio twenty-five years ago. He received his education
at St. Xavier's College, Cincinnati, where he was graduated in
1892. Although still a very young man, his verse is character-
ized by a degree of maturity and a loftiness of purpose which
immediately stamp his work as that of a master. His poetry
is always pure, vigorous, and manly, and although he is es-
pecially happy in his sonnet-work, his lyrics commend them-
selves for their simplicity, their tenderness, and their pathos.

If a literary style may be described as " picturesque," this
poet of the Middle West certainly possesses such a style, for

so vivid and striking are the
impressions which his lines por-
tray that there can be no mis-
taking their intention. He has
contributed to the foremost
periodicals of the day, both
religious and secular.

Mr. Conrard resides at
" Rivernook," near Ludlow, Ken-
tucky, a trans-river suburb of
Cincinnati. A genuine old Ken-
tucky mansion, its broad veran-
das command a magnificent view
of the Ohio on the one hand and
the Kentucky hills on the other.
A true Bohemian, he is fond
of genial companionship, and
his home is the rendezvous of
a coterie of young men of various professions, lawyers, doctors,
and the devotees of art, literature, music, and the drama,
all of whom find in him a warm and consistent friend.

He is an enthusiastic follower of athletics and all manly
sports ; is fond of his rod, gun, and dogs, and, as becomes a
true -Kentuckian, is reputed as being a fair judge of horse-flesh.
A true genius, a ripe scholar, and a polished gentleman,
fearlessly professing and upholding his faith, he is a good type
of true Catholic manhood, and one who cannot fail to accom-
plish much good.

A volume of Mr. Conrard's recent poems will appear early
in the spring of 1897.

GEORGE HARRISON CONRARD.

1897-] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 857

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

ON February 10, at the Tuxedo, Fifty-ninth Street and Madison Avenue,
about one thousand Catholics of this city gathered to congratulate the
Rev. M. J. Lavelle upon the honor conferred upon him by his election to the
important post of President of the Catholic Summer-School of America. The
assemblage was notable in point of distinction as well as by size. Many of the
prominent pewholders of the Cathedral came to honor their rector; all those
who have been most closely identified with the active work of the Summer-
School were present ; and friendships formed on the beautiful shores of Lake
Champlain were renewed at this, the largest assemblage ever held in or around
New York in the interests of the school.

The Cathedral Library Reading Circles gave the reception to Father Lavelle,
and their spiritual director, the Rev. J. H. McMahon, introduced Mr. David
McClure, a parishioner of the Cathedral, as the presiding officer. In a very
happy manner Mr. McClure introduced the speakers of the evening. Mr. Fornes
spoke of the pleasant relations existing between the Champlain Club and the
Summer-School, and pointed out the enjoyable features of this Catholic Country
Club. Father McGuirl, President of the Catholic Young Men's National Union,
in an eloquent and vigorous speech emphasized the cordiality shown by the
young men to the Summer-School idea, and referring to Father Lavelle's former
connection with the Union as its President, saw a happy bond of union in the
fact that he was now president of the new organization. On behalf of the
Catholic Club, Judge Daly spoke of the warm interest the club took in the
school as a powerful factor in the intellectual development of the Catholic
people. He eulogized Father Lavelle very highly, pointing out his remarkable
executive ability, and dwelling with emphasis upon his fondness for hard work,
and his self-sacrifice in never asking another to do what he did not do himself.
He foresaw much good from the presidency of so energetic and able a priest
as Father Lavelle, who by his labors as well as his position had won the respect
of all who knew his work.

Dr. Conaty, the new Rector of the Catholic University and retiring president
of the Summer-School, said that in spite of numerous engagements he had
come officially to New York to testify to the esteem in which the University held
its younger sister, the University of the People. He pledged the influence of the
University to the cause of the Summer-School. The fact that he had been its
president was a guarantee of the bond that joined them. He said that New
York had not yet done its full duty to the Summer-School. He was quite pre-
pared to admit freely that New York had done more than any other city, prac-
tically ; still if New York wanted the school to be a success the school would
succeed. He called upon Catholic New York, therefore, to support Father
Lavelle, not alone by good will, but in a more solid manner. The school needed
money. He ventured to say that he was making the most eloquent speech of
the evening when he executed a commission to present to Father Lavelle a check
for two hundred dollars, which was the contribution of one of the Cathedral
Library Reading Circles to start the fund for building the New York Cottage.

Father Lavelle, in rising to respond, was evidently much affected by the
enthusiastic applause that greeted him. He said he did not know how to express
the feelings of his heart. He knew that these kind words and this manifestation

858 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Mar.,

of appreciative good will were meant not for him, but for what he represented.
He hoped that New York would help him to carry the burden he had been called
upon to assume. He would not detain his audience with words. He felt that
they knew how much he appreciated their kindness, and was confident that those
before him would help him in his effort to place the school on a sound financial
basis. He drew a pleasant picture of life at the Summer-School, and closed
with a wish that they might all meet again next summer at Lake Champlain.

On the platform, besides the speakers, were seated Archbishop Corrigan,
Monsignor Mooney, Dean McKenna, Rev. Thomas McMillan, C.S.P., Father
McKinnon, S.J., Father McCormack, Brother Justin, General O'Brien, and others.
Letters of regret were read from Father Pardow, S.J.; Judge Morgan J. O'Brien,
and Bishop Burke, of Albany. The musical programme was excellent, the
audience heartily applauding the exquisite singing of Miss Hilke and Miss Clary,
both of the Cathedral choir.

The Fenelon Reading Circle at the Pouch mansion, Brooklyn, tendered a
reception to the new president of the Champlain Summer-School. It was one
of the most brilliant and largely attended social reunions ever given by the Circle.
The" programme opened with musical selections, which were excellently rendered.

Father Flannery, director of the Fenelon, introduced the guest of the even-
ing in a brief speech. Father Lavelle complimented the Fenelon on its superior
advantages in the way of a meeting-place, and spoke of the interest he always
felt in Brooklyn, not only from very pleasant recollections of childhood days
spent within its borders, but also from later association in college and seminary,
Bishop McDonnell and others of the clergy having been among his oldest friends.
Father Lavelle then went on to speak of the Summer-School, its advantages,
intellectually and socially, and urged the Fenelon to form an association and
become a permanent part of the Summer-School by constructing a cottage on
the grounds at Cliff Haven, which would be a monument to the zeal, energy, and
Catholicity of the city. Father Lavelle paid a high tribute to his predecessor,
the Rev. T. J. Conaty, D.D., who resigned to assume the presidency of the

Catholic University at Washington.

* * *

As education and the habit of promiscuous reading become every day
more common, certain exigencies arise which those who have the care of souls
at heart must always be prepared to meet. Education and reading resemble fire
to a very considerable extent. Fire is perhaps the greatest physical blessing
mankind enjoys. Without it every comfort of life would vanish. Civilization
cannot be conceived without it, since all the arts which make up the comfort
and refinement of life depend upon fire for their possibility. And yet this ele-
ment, this great blessing, taken out of its proper place, is the most terrible in-
strument of destruction known to man. Thus it is with education and reading.
Properly directed, they produce blessings untold. But misguided, their results
are baneful in the extreme. 'This is a fact so well known that it needs no proof
arid scarcely requires a statement. As we stand at present our people can
scarcely avoid coming in contact with principles that are false and thoughts that
are either untrue or distorted. It is necessary, therefore, in this intellectual
struggle to be constantly vigilant, and to guide the desire for knowledge so that
it shall not become a curse. Our current cheap literature is full of insinuations
and incorrect assertions with regard to the fundamental principles of reason and
of faith. These errors are no longer confined to the attention of learned special-
ists. The plainest people meet them every day. Consequently, their refutation
must no longer be restricted to the classroom or the university hall. It is neces-

1 897.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 859

sary to speak to all the people about them so that correct thought may be the
source of correct action, and true principles the cause of faithful Christian lives.

In accordance with the plan just stated, the Rev. Joseph H. McMahon,
Director of the Cathedral Library, New York City, assisted by some of the most
active workers for the Champlain Summer-School, organized a course of lectures
which have been attended by large numbers. The general subject chosen was
psychology, and the object of the lectures was to state what is conceived to be
the correct psychological teaching as against the psychological teaching contained
in the books which are most widely read, but whose influence must necessarily
be considered pernicious by any one who accepts revealed religion in the Chris-
tian sense. Among the practical results it was hoped not only to aid to a correct
understanding of the principles of Psychology, but to enable the student to
demonstrate the truth of these principles, to maintain them against the false
principles that are so common.

Under the same auspices a very notable lecture on the Spiritual Element in
Literature was given by the Rev. John Talbot Smith, LL.D. The following
synopsis indicates the line of his thought :

Literature, as one of the expressions of man's reflecting nature, partakes of
his qualities. At the root man is physical and spiritual ; and through those
powers of the soul called mind he is intellectual. True literature is the perfect
human expression of the physical, intellectual, and spiritual elements in man. In
any literature the physical is the first to find expression, and the spiritual last ; but
what is properly called literature is composed of three elements. In particular
literatures one element may be predominant. In particular writers the spiritual
may be entirely absent.

The presence and the force of the spiritual element determine the power and
beauty of a literature and of individual writers. Consequently this element is
highly valued by all writers, even the materialistic, and is sought for with much
earnestness. But in our day the spiritual element has almost entirely disappeared
from a certain class of writings, and most of the popular and so-called classical
literature of the hour. will be in the rubbish-heap within this generation. The
average novelist and essayist, poet and historian, is utterly without the spiritual
element, as in the case of Howells, Allen, Emerson, and Froude. The decay of
the spiritual element in literature has been accompanied by the increasing pre-
dominance of the physical, the sensual, and the purely intellectual, and the ab-
normal in our current literature. Hence, Nordau's cry of degeneration.

The Bible is the highest and finest expression of the spiritual element in
man's nature, taking the Bible merely as a literary performance without regard to
its divine inspiration. A modern example of the force of the spiritual element in
literature is the poetry of Aubrey de Vere.

The application of these principles were shown in a second lecture on New-
man and Emerson : their Spiritual Power. Every great writer, in spite of his
errors in philosophy, or in religious belief, possesses in some degree the spiritual
element ; otherwise he could not be pronounced great. Emerson, the pantheist,
whose religious beliefs passed from the fairly precise into the hopelessly vague,
never wholly lost the spiritual .element.

Newman, faithful to all sound beliefs, impatient of the unsound, merci-
less to the, false beliefs and methods of his time, ever led by the spiritual sense
within, rose to higher and greater truths, and ended his career as a master where
Emerson ended as a failure.

Shakspere was described as 'the great poet of Elizabeth's reign, the last and

86o THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Mar., 1897.

noblest flower of the old order in England. The spiritual element is strong in
all his work, and was evidently sought for with the conscientiousness of a great
artist. It is especially emphasized in Henry VIII. Shelley was the premature
bud of the new order of things introduced into England and into the world by
the French Revolution. He wrote with the avowed intention of ignoring, and
even destroying, the spiritual as we understand it.

A study of Tennyson was given by the Rev. William Livingston, A.M., which
set forth the moving spirit of his life and works. His earnest support of law
and order. His attitude toward the great question of life and death. The ethical
impulse of his writings tending towards what is good and pure. Individual
doubts and strivings, compared with faith.

Father Livingston regarded Longfellow's message to the world a spiritual
one, though not of high degree. He was moved more by the heart's affection
than by the spirit's growth. He sought to rise above what he called the forms of
faith, but gave little in return except a vague trust.

* * *

A joint committee of Congress, consisting of three Senators and three Repre-
sentatives, has under consideration plans for the organization and management of
the National Library in its new quarters. One thousand tons of books have to
be moved from the Capitol to the building with the golden dome, and it is yet
to be determined how the transfer is to be effected. Next April or May the re-
moval will be begun, and at least two or three months will be required for its ac-
complishment. The committee has called on Librarian Spofford for information
respecting the administration of foreign libraries, and on these data will be based
to some extent its conclusions respecting the method by which Uncle Sam's great
book collection is to be handled and governed. Congress will be asked to make
a large appropriation for this purpose, inasmuch as the new building will require
a considerable force of engineers, firemen, electricians, etc.

The joint committee will make its report to Congress, setting forth a plan in
detail. Then the money required will be appropriated without delay, and prepara-
tions for the transfer will be promptly begun. The government thus far has
shown no disposition to be mean about the re-establishment of this great national
institution, and its generosity has been encouraged by the completion of the new
structure within the cost of $6,000,000 originally estimated. Almost never before
has a building erected for Uncle Sam come anywhere near the estimates. In this
case, furthermore, the edifice may justly be considered one of the most beautiful
in the world, and there is nothing in Europe which compares with its superb in-
terior. Everywhere is yellow gold and rare marble, yet nowhere is there gaudi-
ness or bad taste. As a library building it is a century ahead of the very latest
abroad.

Mr. Green, engineer in charge of the new building, is disposed to favor trans-
portation of the books by way of the underground tunnel which connects the

Capitol with the Library Building. The tunnel is now finished. It is three feet
below ground, lined with brick, and big enough for a man to make his way
through, stooping. As yet the electric railway has not been put in, by which little
cars conveying books are to be run. One terminal station of the railway will be
close by the Capitol rotunda, and an assistant librarian will be stationed there
with messengers who will carry books that are wanted by senators or representa-
tives. Through the tunnel will run a pneumatic tube, by means of which orders
for books, scribbled on scraps of paper, may be conveyed in an instant, and the
volumes required will be shot back from the Library Building. Meanwhile, any
member of Congress will be able to communicate with Mr. Spofford directly by
telephone, the wires of which will pass through the conduit. M. C. M.

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