(navigation image)
Home American Libraries | Canadian Libraries | Universal Library | Community Texts | Project Gutenberg | Children's Library | Biodiversity Heritage Library | Additional Collections
Search: Advanced Search
Anonymous User (login or join us) Upload
See other formats

Full text of "The Catholic world"

SEP^FACADEMV 

#0. 





THE 



CATHOLIC WORLD. 



VOL. LXVIII. 



JANUARY, 1899. 



No. 406. 



THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY, 

BY REV. GEORGE McDERMOT, C.S.P. 




HRISTIAN Rome must be 
looked at, despite the changes 
upon the surface, as the cov- 
ering of a permanent and in- 
destructible principle. Chris- 
tian emperors, Goths, maraud- 
ing barons, mediaeval inter- 
preters of pagan ideas, and 
modern revolutionists are the 
foam upon the sea. Flights 
to Avignon and Gaeta, im- 
prisonments in Fontainebleau, 
are the accidents of the hour. 
Christian Rome is immortal 
because the embodiment of an eternal thought. Mr. Crawford * 
has caught a glimpse of this view, but, it would seem, only to 
lose sight of it again. He looks upon nineteen centuries as a 
preparation for the pontificate of Leo XIII. ; but great as Leo 
is, he is only one link in the chain from Peter to the Pope who 
shall see the blackened sun and the moon turned to blood, and 
the stars falling as figs when the tree is shaken by a great wind, 
and who shall hear the angel swear that time shall be no longer. 
He who writes of the Papacy, even as the instrument of the 

* Ave Roma Immortalis. By Marion F. Crawford. New York : Macmillan Company. 
NOTE. The half-tones that are printed with this article have not been used any- 
where else. They have been made especially for THE CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE from 
photographs placed at our service by the American Mutoscope Company and are copy- 
righted by the same company. PUBLISHERS CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE. 

Copyright. THE MISSIONARY SOCIETY OF ST. PAUL THE APOSTLE IN THE 

STATE OF NEW YORK. 1898. 
VOL. LXVIII. 28 



436 THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. [Jan., 

Church's contact with the age, should be a seer gazing on death- 
less ideas. The greatest figure in the long dynasty is dwarfed 
amid the forces round him. He wields a power, but it is not his 
own. Though he sends the lightnings, and they go and return 
at his will, he does so only, and they obey him only, as the 
delegate of a power given even to the weakest John as amply 
as to the greatest Leo. 

We yield to no one in admiration of the energy and ability 
of his present Holiness. We cannot help thinking, so far as 
our poor judgment helps us, that he is the man of his time in 
the fullest sense ; but what we deprecate is the suggestion 
made, whether wittingly or not, that the work of the Pope 
depends in any essential sense on his mental and moral qualities. 
Two functions meet in the person of the Pope, the one expressed 
by the Papacy as an instrument in relation with society in all 
its forms, the other the office of Pastor and Teacher of each 
one of us, in virtue of his authority over the corporate life of 
the congregation of the faithful. In the first-mentioned function 
the Holy Father secures for every child of Holy Church that 
freedom of worship so often assailed by hostile influences. He 




LIKE HIS DIVINE MASTER, HE HATH COMPASSION ON THE MULTITUDE. 



1899-] 



PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 437 




PHYSICAL VIGOR is SPITE OF ADVANCED YEARS. 

is the protector of the rights of conscience against rulers who 
would deny them ; he claims for each one, as he is bound to 
do, the liberty to obey the law of God. In this field, of course, 
personal qualities are of inestimable value ; one can see, without 
looking beyond the natural horizon, that tact, patience, knowl- 
edge of profane learning, all the advantages which distinguish 
the highest intellects in affairs, ought to be at the service of 
the pope when negotiating with rulers. That is to say, on the 
human side of his office mental and moral qualities of a high 
order would be more conducive to success than the same 
qualities in a less degree ; but behind and apart from this is the 
divinely appointed side of the office, which men will not separate 
from the other. Hence so many mistaken estimates of the 
action of individual popes when compared with that of others ; 
and what is more painful yet, so many difficulties in reconcil- 
ing the life and conversation of this or that pope with the trust 
reposed in him. 

One pope may be called apparently to suffer more than to 
rule ; another apparently to rule rather than to suffer ; but in 
truth the suffering pope, as we have hinted in the principle 
laid down, rules as essentially in the immortal life of the church 



438 THE PAPACY IN FHE NINETEENTH CENTURY. [Jan., 

and its instrument, the Papacy, as the pope whose success in 
handling the influences and passions of his time is universally 
appreciated. Who would have supposed when Pius VII. was a 
prisoner that Catholic and Protestant powers would unite in 
restoring him to his temporal sovereignty and in sending his 
jailer to a remote rock in the Atlantic to eat out his heart at 
the recollection of defeated ambitions. In exile one reflection 
was made by Napoleon which illustrates the exceptional posi- 
tion the pope occupies in the social universe: that his fortunes 
would have been different if he had not laid hands upon Pius 
VI. and Pius VII. We take this step by step. At one time 
Napoleon described the pope as a furious madman, and added, 
He must be shut up! He was reminded of the risks he ran 
in meddling with the church and its ruler ; but retorted in his 
Cromwell-like ranting way : Will the pope's curse cause the 
muskets to fall from my soldiers' hands? As a matter of fact, 
the muskets literally fell from his soldiers' hands, as a Protestant 
historian * significantly observes. And we have no reason to 
come to any conclusion but that the curse of oppression, in- 
justice, and sacrilege followed the man in the madness which 
drove him to fight the powers of nature in Russia. It was the 
judicial blindness which pagans, speaking from old traditions 
or a singularly illuminated insight, expressed in the dictum, 
" Quern Deus vult perdere, prius dementat." That is to say, 
men are visited with an uncontrollable impulse to attempt im- 
possible enterprises or a madness of the kind which urges to 
deeds of ferocity until the world can no longer bear them. In 
the history of ancient empires we see running like a golden 
thread the philosophy of God's superintendence. It is given 
with a precision, by great poets and historians, like the exact- 
ness which marks the laborious and painstaking intellect of 
mediaeval schools. We are advocating nothing; we are stating 
phenomena of experience in the moral order, and we leave our 
readers to draw their own conclusions. So when we recount 
that in St. Helena Napoleon laid down what reflection led him 
to think the proper basis of negotiation with the Papacy that 
the pope should be looked upon as a sovereign at the head 
of an army of two hundred thousand men we perceive a very 
great advance from the passionate outburst, He must be shut 
up ! It is somewhat misleading to state a moral force in terms 
of physical energy, but the attempt to do so by the man 
whom Emerson selects, among representative men, as the em- 

* Alison : History of Europe. 



1899-] THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 439 




A DRIVE IN THE VATICAN GARDENS. 

bodiment of practical sagacity, is convincing testimony as to 
the reality of the force in question.* We, therefore, must dis- 
sent from Mr. Crawford's opinion that Pius VI. and Pius VII. 
were politically insignificant. 

Indeed, one is at a loss at times to pronounce a judgment 
on the "political" significance of one Supreme Pontiff rather 
than another. One of Napoleon's prisoners died in his hands, 
his life shortened by anxiety and the indignities inflicted on him. 
It is said the emperor struck him ; no one can doubt but that 
he afforded him innumerable opportunities for the practice of 
patience. This despot, without principle or breeding, raved 
against dignitaries in the language of a costermonger. His 
prisoner could not escape any more than kings at a distance. 
Then Pius VII. was elected and carried off to prison. He died 
on the throne of Rome, but the French Empire was a thing of 
the past, the pageant of a dream, with its princes and its dukes 
and notabilities, who formed a court offering such a contrast to 
the salons of Versailles when Louis XVI. and his queen were 

* We regard these essays, Representative Men, as foolish in important respects, but 
Emerson caught here and there the meaning of characteristics. 



440 THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. [Jan., 

yet young- as the court of the Emperor of Hayti, with his 
princes and his dukes, presents to the drawing-rooms of St. 
James's. The empire which broke the heart of one pope and 
tried to break that of another vanished like an illusion, and 
this other alone of rulers spoke gentle words about his tyrant. 
The chained eagle in St. Helena was the Corsican upstart in 
England, while in Prussia and throughout Germany he had sown 
the seeds of such hatred that not even yet has vengeance been 
glutted. However, Pius VII., politically insignificant as our 
author deems him, died upon his throne ; Gregory VII., after 
Canossa, said, as his farewell to life : " Because I have loved 
justice and hated inquity I die in exile." Plainly, this Papacy, 
this instrument of the church and the pope in their action 
upon princes and states this institution has a life not to be 
judged by the standard of ordinary royalties and potencies. 
When Leo ascended the throne it seemed to all outside 
the church that her last hour had struck, and within the 
church millions were indifferent, and millions strong indeed in 
loyalty, but weak in judgment, were in despair. It was a 
time when men's hearts were tried, but there were some 
who, resting on the divine promises, looked at the crisis as a 
mere incident in the immortal life of the institution. Pontiffs 
come and go, but the Papacy remains. It was, no doubt, a 
period of anxiety for the new Pope. No one in the long 
dynasty had been confronted by severer troubles. Convulsions 
had often torn asunder the European commonwealths ; heresy 
had again and again desolated the fairest provinces of the church ; 
the hordes of Islam in their progress seemed the heralds of 
the final doom ; but in all these storms the mass of the faith- 
ful looked with confidence to the future. It was not so in our 
time. The peculiar effects of the last phase of civilization in 
Europe tend to make faith rather an appreciation of the intel- 
lect and will than a heroic passion of the entire man by which 
intellect, will, feeling, and emotion realize things unseen and 
unfelt as if visible and tangible. Despite us, we are chilled 
by the frozen atmosphere of unbelief cold to any test but that 
of the scalpel and the scales. The angel of Sinai speaking 
from the thunderous clouds would be analyzed into combina- 
tions of atmospheric phenomena forming sounds curiously re- 
sembling articulation. This intellectual phase is in an explicable 
way a product of the revolt of the sixteenth century, though 
no great rising against the church's authority had so much of 
passion, so little of pure intellect, in its birth. Unlike the 



1899-] THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 441 




LEO POSSESSES TRANQUIL COURAGE. 

subtle heresies of the East, which drew whole episcopal benches 
at their wheels, the doctrines of the Reformers did not carry 
away one dignified and distinguished churchman. Abbey lands, 
church revenues, freedom from external direction had more to 
do with convincing potentates and great men than after-thought 
theories of the fall and the atonement. 

This is how a movement possessing no logical character was 
aided by what men in their phrase-making call the inexorable 
logic of events. Wars and spoliations did in the sixteenth and 
seventeenth centuries for Protestantism what scientific atheism 
has done for it in the nineteenth. It became the symbol of 
material prosperity. The rise of Protestantism marked an 
epoch in a sense which Arianism had not done. Material 
prosperity was the breath of life to the leading Reformers ; it 
was the turning all things to gold which won so much accept- 
ance for the reformed doctrines in Scotland, through the Ger- 
man principalities, in the Scandinavian nations, in Switzerland, 
in France, and in many parts of England. The violent transfer 
of property and the vast social change incident to it made an 
epoch from which there was no going back. No social revolu- 



442 THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. [Jan., 

tion, no blotting out of ancient landmarks, accompanied the 
speculative heresies that wounded the church in the early cen- 
turies. When they died she resumed her place in the old set- 
tlements, and the memory of the evil interregnum faded into 
a kind of fancy without power on the march of nations. But 
new conditions synchronized with the ideas of the sixteenth 
and seventeenth centuries, perpetuating them by the fixity of 
associations arising from power, violence, wealth, and all the 
rewards attending unscrupulous enterprise and ambition. The 
efficacy of faith without works would be an encouraging doc- 
trine to the man who found an inconvenience in the observance 
of the fifth and sixth commandments. A barony carved out 
of a dissolved monastery lent a special value to the prin- 
ciple of private interpretation. For the first time in Christian 
society the acquisition of wealth became an absorbing passion ; 
but lest some survival from the Gospel teaching should afford 
authority to the exercise of justice and mercy, the scientific 
atheism of to-day interposed individual interests as the measure 
of morality. This was the intellectual attitude of the world 
when Leo XIII. took the place of the Fisherman. 




HIS INTEREST IN MATTERS OF DETAIL. 



1899.] THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 443 




THE BURDENS OF HIS HIGH OFFICE WEIGH HEAVILY ON HIM. 
When opening his chapter on Leo XIII. Mr. Crawford sug- 
gests rather than presents an outline of European history from 
the French Revolution. It strikes us as inaccurate. Europe 
had not fallen into a death-like trance these are not his words 
exactly, but they convey his thought, but a trance had not 
fallen on Europe in the interval from Waterloo till the Year of 
Revolutions, as 1848 is called, doubtless because it brought no 
change to the peoples who were told in verse and poetic prose 
that they were oppressed. That the states were weary of war 
would be the correct expression, but there was below the surface 
an activity sure to work itself to the top. Processes of social 
and political evolution were germinating. In England they 
were taken in time by the Reform Act ; in Prussia they were 
rendered almost innocuous by the transfer of landed property 
to a considerable part of the occupiers. These were the only 
states in which the ideas seething in the masses seem to have 
been wisely guided ; but for all that, a social ferment is at 
present undermining Germany and England's safety depends 
on an outlet for her commerce. How much Mr. Crawford has 
mistaken the aspect of European policy in the years from 1815 
to 1848 may be judged by his opinion that England was the 



444 THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. [Jan. r 

only state not governed by weak and timid sovereigns. As 
a matter of fact, George IV. had not a particle of influence, 
and William IV. was the puppet of Wellington and PeeL 
George IV. signed the Emancipation Bill in an agony of rage, 
William signed the Reform Bill at the command of ministers 
contemptuously indifferent to his blubbering. On the other 
hand, all over Europe, from the North Sea to the Mediter- 
ranean, the revolutionary idea had been kept under control by 
"the weak and timid sovereigns." It burst out in 1848; it 
was extinguished everywhere except in France ; and France 
obtained the blessing of a military despotism in exchange for a 
constitutional monarchy. 

We can only glance at the Italian states. There was no ex- 
cuse for a rebellion against governments anywhere except in 
Venice. The king of the Two Sicilies and the grand dukes 
ruled their possessions in a good, easy manner. The peoples 
were hardly taxed, they enjoyed the comforts of life ; but there 
has been always something unsettled in the Italian disposition, 
and those Italians from the Alps to Spartivento used to dream 
of Roman greatness as of a heritage they had lost. It would 
be a pity not to state a fact connected with Italian conspiracies 
either not generally known or generally lost sight of. Busy- 
bodies from France and Switzerland, inspired by classical en- 
thusiasm, formed branches of the Society of Young Italy. Mem- 
bers of those societies frequently crossed into Venetia, the 
duchies, or the kingdom of Naples to sustain the branches in 
those parts. They were imprisoned, of course, but the more 
crafty Italians invariably contrived to let the foreigners bear 
the punishment, and as invariably to make capital out of their 
sufferings. Mazzini guided the branches from a foreign country, 
and Garibaldi, notwithstanding that his opinions were well 
enough known, seems to have enjoyed more liberty than a 
person of his stamp, if a British subject, would obtain in Eng- 
land. 

England gave great moral and material support to the revo- 
lutionists. It was her policy to prevent a reconciliation between 
the Italian states and the advanced liberalism of those men. 
She recommended reforms to Pius IX., and when he appointed 
Rossi his minister, in deference to the growing opinion, she 
praised him for his enlightened sentiments ; when Rossi was 
assassinated, she praised the murderers as men rightly struggling 
to be free ; when the Holy Father fled, she celebrated in high 
festival the death of the Papacy. It would be no exaggeration 



1899-] THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 445 




HIS TALL, STRONG, BONY FRAME. 

to say that one secret of the animosity of English Liberals to 
Ferdinand of Naples was the tender and respectful manner of 
his reception of Pius IX. The king's tears, when on the fron- 
tier of his dominions he kissed the Holy Father's hand, had 
that nobleness about them which gave the lie to the dark tales 
of Neapolitan despotism. When the young Queen Victoria used 
to advertise the few pounds sent to a laborer's wife brought to 
bed of a triplet, editors and other enthusiasts gushed over the 
graciousness of " the womanly queen "; but nothing was said in 
praise of the high-minded prince, who in himself represented the 
old royalty of France, of Germany and Spain, and, forgetting 
the plots against his own life, proceeded to the outskirts of his 
kingdom in order that his welcome to the head of the church 
should be worthy of a Catholic king. 

This was an early experience in the pontificate of Pius ; the 
first fact which that of Leo confronted was a policy in Eng- 
land expressing the atheism of which we have already spoken. 
Commercial progress, the accumulation of wealth, death to old 
traditions, effacement of priestcraft, were the stock ideas of the 
time. Catholics experienced in their religion a bar to their 



446 THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. [Jan., 

rise in life. Everywhere was pointed out the contrast between 
Protestant and Catholic states in material prosperity ; there is 
hardly a Catholic gentleman in England but has met some 
nominal Catholic in the universities and the learned professions 
who apes this manifestation of Protestant muddleheadedness by 
drawing attention to the small number of Catholics who are 
men of science as compared with the large number of men of 
science who are not Catholics, and the small number of Catho- 
lics compared with Protestants and others in the learned pro- 
fessions. Putting aside this matter, in so far as it assumes 
an entirely erroneous standard of comparison, it would be 
unfair to condemn Christianity because the first converts were 
for the most part poor, while all the wealth and honors of 
imperial Rome were possessed by the pagans ; but putting 
the question asi^'e, there remains the fact of a dangerous social 
opinion confronting Leo XIII. among the most learned and 
ambitious of his flock just as he entered upon his office. 

It was a dark hour for him. England was anti-Catholic in 
a more sinister direction than when she was openly persecuting 
Catholics. In Germany the Kulturkampf was at its height. An 
ethnological theory as to the future government of the world 
was threatening the influence of the church as the embodiment 
of a Latinism which belonged to an unlettered age. All that 
appeals to pride was centred in Teutonism. The Latin races 
were swept off their feet and bowed before the rising sun of 
Germany. But a change came. Political animosities were silent. 
Great armies were stayed by an unseen hand, as the hordes of 
Attila had been stayed, and the course of the church went on 
like a full river whose majesty nothing can arrest. 

The circumstances of the youth of Leo XIII. contributed to 
the shaping of his moral and mental qualities. He belonged 
to the lesser landed gentry, a class which in every country has 
supplied the best instances of harmony between the speculative 
and ideal and the practical intellect. Though a poet, Lord 
Tennyson was a philosopher ; and though rather fond of pre- 
diction, he has suggested some sound political speculation ; and 
we have the like marvellous combination of those intellectual 
forces in Mr. Gladstone, the only man of our time who can at 
all be compared with Leo XIII. Leo was born under the shadow 
of the Volscian hills. It was from those heights the tribes so 
often rushed down upon the young city left by Romulus, so 
that day and night, as upon the Scotch Border, watchers 
looked for the coming of the foe. As the Scotchmen answered 



1899-] THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 447 




HE is A POET AS WELL AS PHILOSOPHER. 

the beacon-fire which told the Southron was at hand, so rang 
through the city the call to drive the Volscian home. There 
were associations with the twilight age in those hills, mysteries 
of the dawn of man's life : whence came he, whence his gods, 
whence his dooms of right rudiments of law and policy, germs 
of conquest and of progress. 

Young Pecci owed to his ancestors a tall, strong, bony frame. 
A high Aryan he was huge-skulled, strong-jawed, capable of 
hard thinking and hard-hitting, a controversialist or a soldier, 
or, if the moral qualities were not in equipoise, a revolutionist 
or pirate. He was indebted to the pure air of the mountains, 
the exercise of the sportsman, and the simple life of his home 
for the endurance and flexibility wrought into thew and sinew, 
and which are* still manifest in the fabric, worn as it is by 
ninety years of toil. His moral and intellectual qualities had 
not to undergo a strain before forming a great purpose and 
executing it, as in the instances of those men of genius unfor- 
tunate in a delicate constitution. What wear and tear of the 
nervous system were suffered before Demosthenes could mount 
the bema in answer to the herald's question : Does any citizen 



448 THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. [Jan., 

desire to speak? Agonies of sickness and nervous irritability 
were doing upon him the work of years quite apart from his 
public services. One can imagine that the pains and waste of 
vital forces before each philippic were ten times more exhaust- 
ing than the work itself than the energy which thundered mena- 
ces to Philip, the surpassing skill with which he led his country- 
men along. No one can conceive the suffering which made 
Richelieu's life an old age in the prime of manhood, yet with 
this half-life this life mated to death his genius laid Europe at 
his feet. Such instances are rare. It is seldom the moral quali- 
ties rise so superior to nature that the courage of the soul takes 
captive sickness, decay, suffering, and the cowardice springing 
from them. But Pecci thought in a frame which was an aid 
to sound thinking. His genius had to pay no such tax as 
Richelieu's before the display of its powers, no such fine before 
the merchandise of mind was offered to mankind. His was 
a mind capacious of great ideas in union with a body affluent 
in the possession of health, strength, and endurance mind and 
body acting and reacting with a harmony like the forces which 
work through the physical universe, reminding one, as Grattan 
might say reminding one of the thunder and the music of the 
spheres. Looking over twenty years and weighing the con- 
flicting influences that swing and sway and rise and fall in 
Europe, we see that from the time of his accession until 
now his statesmanship has been an inspiration. As we write 
he has sounded the note of loyalty to venerable traditions in 
not displacing France from the proctorship of Eastern Catho- 
licity. All Germany, Catholic and Protestant, are in array 
against him, but he has counted the cost, and, as though he 
saw a profound principle involved, he stands as with the right 
and generous and not with the interested and time-serving. 

Clearly he grasps difficulties with the quickness and certainty 
of intuition, he tells the solution of them to the city and the 
world in language which is the lightning of his mind. To this 
mind, so strong and wise in the guidance of men, fancy has 
given the touch which is the ether of thought, the finer, subtler 
essence which is the soul's soul and which reveals itself in 
poetry. To this man so gifted with varieties of power, and each 
one great, the rule of the church has been given in our time. 

Mr. Crawford is clearly right in saying that the Pope is as 
wise a leader as any one who has wielded power in our day. 
Perhaps the greatest, because he has done more to secure peace 
by his caution, firmness, and spirit of conciliation than all the 



1899-] THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 



449 




HE BLESSES ALL THE WORLD. 

rulers of his time taken together. Looking at his reign upon the 
outside, we see that it has gained world-wide respect for the 
church. He is a ripe scholar, a great statesman, an honest man. 
The soundness of his views concerning social problems one 
would expect from his training as a Catholic priest. No other 
training can approach it in fitting men to grasp the forces work- 
ing in society, because it supplies a key to the heart not merely 
the heart of this individual or that, but the heart of mankind 
with its passions, needs, its hopes and fears an abstract expres- 
sion of the individual heart. No other training can confer the 
knowledge of right, because it only looks at right in relation to 
God. What are called the rights of men the fundamental and 
alienable rights of man with regard to himself and others, so far 
as they have any foundation in truth at all must spring from 
the absolute right of God over his creatures. Much of the mis- 
chievous teaching of philosophy for two centuries has arisen 
from a view which makes man a god to himself, whose own 
opinions are his law, whose affections are the measure of his 
enjoyment, whose accountability is confined to the claims of 
society as represented by the state, or a class within the state 



450 THE PAPACY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. [Jan., 

constituting itself a tribunal like the Areopagus of the tea- 
table. We represent things fairly. Men indeed talk of " eter- 
nal verities," but whence do they proceed ? In what sense are 
the rights of man eternal if they are contingent and conditioned? 
But so far as they reflect the will of God they are certainties 
which cannot be taken away without a violation of justice. 
From such a source Leo XIII., like each one of his predeces- 
sors, has drawn his knowledge of what man owes to man and 
to society. Consequently in his utterances on social and eco- 
nomic questions he has done more to keep the peace than all 
other rulers. 

One especially valuable quality he possesses is that of 
tranquil courage. The judgments of good men are often 
obscured by nervous irritability which prevents the immediate 
appreciation of sound principles. The correct judgment in a 
given case is often arrested by a hesitating temper which shrinks 
from initiative. Possibly Mr. Crawford means this when he 
speaks of Pius IX. as always hesitating. Well, there is a human 
side to the Papacy ; and the pope who was driven from his 
capital, who was restored to his subjects by the arms of a for- 
eign power and kept by them on his throne against the threats 
of the revolutionists of Italy and Europe, who saw his city 
again taken by a foreign sovereign in league with the assassins 
of Young Italy and the mercenaries of England such a pope 
might be well excused for doubting the wisdom of formulating 
economic formulae among men likely to wrest them to their 
vicious purposes. It was different with Pope Leo and the time 
of his accession. The thieves were falling out. Emperors and 
working-men were at each others' throats. Authority is good 
because of divine origin, whether it be Tiberius or William I. 
who rules by the counsels of Sejanus or Bismarck. The well- 
being of the masses is a good thing, but this should not rest 
upon principles of treason and robbery. Dreading the masses, 
the second William relieved his Sejanus from the difficulties of 
an office trying to the energies of an aged man and went to 
Leo. The masses, dreading that the resources of a great empire 
would be too strong in conflict with ideas of a rather sordid 
and selfish character, empanoplied their ideas in the armor of 
reason, justice, reverence, and so fenced they went to Leo. It 
was a great triumph, one that marks an epoch to the mere 
historian an incident of the long succession which shows to the 
Catholic and the fair-minded Protestant that there is something 
in the Papacy which even in its human aspect defies analysis. 




1899-] THE CHARITABLE WORK of WOMEN. 451 

THE CHARITABLE WORK OF WOMEN. 

BY S. L. EMERY. 

: TRICTURES are passed at times upon the charit- 
able work of Catholic women outside of our great 
religious orders. Nevertheless there does seem 
to be a gap in the organization of the church 
which might easily be supplied by a society of 
lay-women. The trend, however, of the thought among the 
active workers in the field of charity is professedly against a 
society among women that would parallel the St. Vincent de 
Paul Society as it is now constituted among men. The work 
of laymen is well organized, calls forth the energy of many 
choice spirits, and does a wondrous amount in ameliorating 
the condition of the poor. 

But when we come to the consideration of the Catholic wo- 
man's charitable work there seems to be among us a general 
idea that everything is vague, unsettled, and left to woman's 
own sweet will and impulsive plans. The noble work of the 
Young Ladies' Charitable Association in Boston with its free 
home for consumptives, the self-sacrificing labors of the Ladies 
of Calvary in New York, the earnest work of the ladies in 
Chicago for the deaf and dumb, militate to a certain extent 
against this statement, but to a certain extent only. There is 
here no great, banded organization like that among the men, 
uniting all these women in their blessed work by a union of 
prayers, indulgences, common rule and guidance. 

Are we so sure, however, that the Catholic Church has made 
no provision for this very thing? And if she has done so any- 
where, is it not possible that her plans, always wise and far- 
reaching, cannot be made applicable to the present condition of 
things in our country? Let us, under the guidance of the 
Apostle of Charity, St. Vincent, search carefully into this im- 
portant matter. 

As long ago as the year 1617, before ever the society known 
as Lazarist priests or that of the Sisters of Charity was estab- 
lished, the great St. Vincent had formed a confraternity for 
women charitably disposed to work among the sick poor. His 
practical mind immediately took up the lines of rule and guid- 
VOL. LXVIII. 29 



452 THE CHARITABLE WORK OF WOMEN. [Jan., 

ance, for he had clearly experienced their necessity. His pro- 
visional rule soon received canonical approbation. The original 
document soliciting this favor is still carefully preserved, a part 
of it being in St. Vincent's own handwriting, and is therefore 
of peculiar value in itself and in relation to our present sub- 
ject. 

The analysis of this precious testimony to the saint's plans 
and purposes is as follows: The aim of the work is to honor 
our Lord Jesus Christ in his suffering members, the sick poor, 
by helping them both spiritually and corporally. This thought 
is in itself divine, and is as old as Christianity. In fact, the 
first poor man of the Gospel is our Lord himself ; his most 
holy Mother shares his poverty, even while, by her love, her 
cares, her work, she softens its privations at Bethlehem, in 
Egypt, at Nazareth. During his public life our Lord willed to 
be indebted for his daily bread to the charity of the kindly 
disposed. 

THE HIGH PURPOSE OF THE CONFRATERNITY OF CHARITY. 

The Confraternity of Charity is inspired in its aim and its 
practices by this one thought only: Our Lord is the object of the 
services rendered to the sick poor. All is to be done with a holy 
intention and nothing for human respect. Something far higher 
than what is ordinarily understood by philanthropy enters into 
this plan conceived by the large heart of -St. Vincent, a some- 
thing which will often bring far more benefit to the doer of 
the work than to the recipient of the charity. He lays it down 
as a principle that those belonging to this confraternity must 
strive after the welfare of their own souls as well as of those 
whom they seek to benefit ; and the souls of the poor whom 
they visit must be as much the object of their solicitude as 
are their bodies. 

The rule proceeds to the most minute details in regard to 
the manner of visiting the sick, of helping them, of providing 
their nourishment ; it even explains, in its delicate consideration 
for those whom his tender charity calls " the poor, our masters" 
how to fit upon the bed the little board or table whereon their 
modest repast is served. Everything is prescribed with that 
sweet sincerity that impresses the soul with a profound con- 
viction that nothing is small in the service of a God who is 
himself infinitely great. 

Of the officers first elected for the confraternity, Frances 
Baschet and Charlotte de Brie, we are told that during a 



1899-] THE CHARITABLE WORK OF WOMEN. 453 

terrible scourge of famine and pest, that affrighted courageous 
men, these women went, by day and night, into the poorest 
and most infected huts, carrying food and remedies that they 
had themselves prepared in little dwellings at the city gates, 
where they made their chosen abode, as sentinels of charity, 
during that disastrous period. 

Is it likely, in the ordinary purposes of Divine Providence, 
that an organization planned by a saint, and begun under such 
leaders as these heroic women, filled, too, with the very spirit 
of the Catholic Church in her perpetual working everywhere is 
it likely that such a work failed and passed away ? Reason and 
faith answer energetically, No. And it is indeed a fact that 
the confraternity still exists, though as yet but little known in 
the United States. 

A PARENT TREE OF CHARITABLE SOCIETIES. 

It did not merge, as has been thought, into the splendid, 
world-wide community of Sisters of Charity, although that 
community may be truly said to have sprung from this little 
confraternity which was the first organized society to be formed 
by Vincent de Paul's wonderful gift for organization in the 
cause of the needy. Neither must it be confounded with the 
Ladies of Charity of the Hotel Dieu, nor the Ladies of Charity 
of the Court. It should always be distinctly understood and 
remembered that les dames de la Char it e\ or les C on fr tries de 
la Charity founded at Chatillon in 1617, was prior to all of 
these, that it spread abroad, and that, although the storm of 
the French Revolution thwarted and hindered its blessed work 
for awhile in France, it flourishes again, there and elsewhere. 
In the authorized Manual for the association, bearing date 
" 1886, Paris," a summary is given of the present condition of 
the society, which is as follows : " In Paris, 54 branches ; other 
parts of France, 54 branches are reported ; in Italy, 97 ; in 
Belgium, 41; Austria and Poland, 13; Turkey, 6; Peru, 9; 
Mexico, 25." In the United States there is not one reported, 
although in fact a few societies exist here. 

The work was implicitly approved by Pope Urban VIII. in 
1632. Pope Innocent XII. granted it indulgences in 1675. In 
1744, Pope Benedict XIV. gave it tokens of his esteem.^ But 
the great testimony to its worth has come in these latter times, 
when Pope Pius IX. " granted to the Association of the Ladies 
of Charity the same indulgences and spiritual Javors that his 
predecessor, Gregory XVI., had accorded, by the briefs of 



454 THE CHARITABLE WORK OF WOMEN. [Jan., 

January 10 and August 12, 1845, to the society of men 
founded under the patronage of St. Vincent de Paul." 

The rule to-day is framed upon the model of that which St. 
Vincent gave to the first association established in Paris. Faith 
is its motive principle, bidding us see in the suffering poor our 
brother, and the brother of Jesus Christ nay more, Jesus 
Christ Himself. A member of the association must show herself 
ready for all sacrifices, in order to be useful to those whom 
she seeks to truly gain to God. She is to be full of zeal, fear- 
ing no fatigue, ready to put herself to any trouble if she may 
relieve another's pain. She must be truly humble, taking will- 
ingly the second place in the good she does, accepting insult, 
seeking to be concealed from the world's praise or notice. 
Considering herself the servant of Jesus Christ in the person of 
the poor, she tries to assimilate herself, as it were, to that con- 
dition by the simplicity of her dress and manner, speaking to 
those she visits with real respect, and entering their humble 
dwellings modestly and plainly clad. 

SAVING SOULS AS WELL AS BODIES. 

She must show them much kindness by compassionating 
their sufferings, listening to them with interest, weeping with 
those who weep ; in order that they may see that their painful 
position is understood, that their troubles are shared, and that 
they are the object of a sincere affection. Gently and with 
patience the poor man's immortal . soul must be tended and 
comforted as well as his suffering body. On the one hand, food, 
medicine, clothing, fuel, must be thoughtfully provided ; useful 
suggestions made as to cleanliness, neatness, economy, the love 
of work ; and interest must be shown in obtaining them means 
of livelihood when out of work. But, on the other hand, the 
paschal Communion must not be forgotten, nor the last Sacra- 
ments, nor reconciliation with an offended neighbor, nor prayer, 
nor repentance, nor the account that rich and poor must one 
day render to the Judge of all. "The work of the sick poor," 
says the Manual quoted above, " saves thousands of souls," 
which is not the report we look for in the annals of philan- 
thropy, although it is one that the recording angel gladly 
carries to heaven. Words can hardly express too strongly the 
stress laid by St. Vincent on the spiritual side of this helpful 
organization. 



1899-] THE CHARITABLE WORK OF WOMEN. 455 

A PONTIFF'S DEFINITION OF CHARITY. 

In this connection will be found extremely applicable the 
allocution and benediction of the Sovereign Pontiff, Pius IX., 
to the Ladies of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, assembled in 
the chapel of the Priests of the Mission in the city of Florence, 
the 2ist of August, 1857. It is another proof of the kindly 
interest which he took in their good work. 

"All of you who here assembled, ladies, are consecrated to 
the works of charity. Now, the first virtue that ought to ac- 
company charity is patience. You have been obliged to prac- 
tise it this evening, in waiting for me so long a time : you have 
shown that you possess it, and that you are capable of pro- 
ducing the acts of this virtue. It is, moreover, necessary in all 
the affairs of this world ; patience is necessary in the bosom of 
one's own family ; patience is necessary in supporting the trials 
of life ; patience in visiting the sick, in going into the houses 
of the poor, in vanquishing sometimes, even yet, the repugnances 
of nature, and in surmounting the obstacles one meets in doing 
good. Let us lay up, then, a great provision of patience; for 
we can say that patience is the inseparable companion of 
charity, and that there is no charity without patience. Caritas 
patiens est. ... I am, then, come among you in order to 
give you the apostolic benediction, and it is with all my heart 
that I shall give it ; but first I wish to say to you a few 
words. 

" There are many ways of practising charity. Alms-giving, 
bringing up poor children, visiting hospitals or needy families, 
or the sorrowful sick-bed all this is to practise charity. The 
last method is the one that you have chosen, and to which 
you have devoted yourselves. I have had the consolation of 
seeing in these days many pious women consecrated to the 
works of charity, some to aid the sick in hospitals, others to 
bring up poor children as Christians, some in houses of seclu- 
sion, some in prisons. We see by this that the Lord wills, by 
that which is weak, to confound that which is strong, and by 
means of the feebler sex to humble the pride of men, who or- 
dinarily think that they alone are capable of great and useful 
works. The usefulness of your work can be very great, in 
this time especially, when the common enemy is roaming about 
and making a great stir in all parts of the world ; and now 
under the mask of philanthropy, and now under that of a friend 
of the people, he seeks, under pretext of making the people 
happy, to tear from their hearts the only true happiness, which 
is the faith, by representing our holy religion as the enemy of 
temporal felicity. Against these ideas, which you will meet only 
too often, alas ! I exhort you to fight zealously. However 
little good sense one may have, religion nowadays is held in 



456 THE CHARITABLE WORK OF WOMEN. [Jan., 

esteem ; and you will find everywhere, perhaps in your own 
families, persons who will say that they esteem religion, that 
they love religion, and who nevertheless do not practise their 
religion. They will say that religion is the only means of re- 
lieving misery, of healing the wounds of society ; that religion 
is the only consolation in trials ; and then they do not put this 
religion in practice. Courage then, and behold your mission ! 
Be worthy of this holy Catholic religion which you profess,, of 
the doctrine of Jesus Christ; make strenuous endeavors to pre- 
serve the faith, to reanimate it where you find it languishing, 
to teach it to those who are ignorant of it ; teach it in your 
families, teach it to your children, teach it in the houses of the 
poor; especially teach it by example; act in such a way that 
your work may be profitable to the souls of those whom you are 
going to aid, and as far as lies in your power unite all hearts 
in the bonds of the true religion. Go, then, to visit the sick ; 
but remember, in order that your work may be worthy of the 
benediction of God, it is necessary that the alms-giving of the 
hand should be joined to the alms-giving of the mind and the 
heart. Do not be satisfied with giving alms only, but have 
words of comfort, of compassion, of advice, and thus you will 
soften the harsh husband ; you will bring back the wife to the 
right way ; you will strengthen the children in the Christian 
life. . . . And where you find the faith extinct or waver- 
ing, then, as you will no longer be sufficient for such a case, 
address yourself to some well-known ecclesiastic, who, all on 
fire with divine charity and filled with wisdom, can enlighten 
the mind and warm the heart of your poor, who, though sick 
in body, are far more sick in soul. 

" And now may God bless you, as I bless you in His 
name; may He bless you, may He bless your spouses, may He 
bless your children, may he bless your families, may He bless 
your houses ; and may this benediction bring into your homes 
peace, concord, union, all the virtues, happiness. May God the 
Father bless you, and may His almighty power give you the 
strength to vanquish all the contradictions and obstacles 
that you will meet in the practice of virtue, the strength not 
to be wanting in the holiness requisite for your duties and your 
obligations ! May God the Son bless you, and may He give 
you a ray of His wisdom, that you may know how to defend 
religion, that you may have words of counsel and of truth 
capable of winning souls and of bringing back into the right 
way those who have wandered from it ! May God the Holy 
Spirit bless you ; may He give to you, may he inspire you, 
may He cause to shine in your hearts a spark of His divine 
charity which will increase yours, and, augmenting it cease- 
lessly, will render it each day more active and more effica- 
cious. 

"You hold in your hands every moment of your life; it is 
your duty to make them of value by filling them with good 



1899-] THE CHARITABLE WORK OF WOMEN. 457 

works, and by consecrating them to your own salvation and to 
that of the poor. 

" Oh ! what an immense consolation it will be for you, upon 
your bed of death, at the moment you utter those words, In 
mamis tuas, Domine, commendo spirituui vicum ! Lord, receive 
this soul, which is worn out in the salvation of souls ; and which, 
by Thy grace (for it is always a great grace of God to succeed 
in saving souls), but also by its hard labor in Thy service, has 
brought to Thee these souls Thou didst Thyself redeem, and 
which were confided to its care by Thee ! Benedictio Dei, etc., 
etc." 

We may connect usefully with these glowing words the 
memory of Pope Leo XIII. 's brief, wherein he declared St. 
Vincent de Paul special patron before God of all the associa- 
tions of charity that exist in the Catholic world. 

Why should not this regularly authorized and long estab- 
lished organization in behalf of the sick poor be everywhere 
spread abroad ? Why should it not be possible that, in no 
rigid and irksome fashion, but by an elastic and sweet tie of 
prayers, indulgences, and good works, all existing societies of 
Catholic women everywhere should be united to this society, 
already blessed by supreme authority, and founded by the very 
saint authoritatively given as the patron to all ? Why should 
not all of them, in that case, be considered auxiliaries and 
helpmates to the conferences everywhere, and thus " the good 
odor of Christ" be everywhere more and more spread abroad 
throughout the world ? 

A long step towards this happy consummation would be 
taken by the general use of the beautiful Manual mentioned 
above. Parts I. and II. relate to the formation of the work. 
Part III. treats of visits to the sick poor in their homes, differ- 
ent prayers and practices for the sick, thoughts on the use of 
sufferings, directions in regard to the preparation of the sick- 
room for the reception of the Holy Viaticum, aspirations to 
suggest to the sick person before and after Holy Communion, 
prayers for the dying, and method of preparation for death. 
Part IV. contains sketches of the life of St. Vincent, of Mile. 
Le Gras, and of the twelve ladies who re-established the work 
in Paris, and tells of the courage and devotion of the Ladies 
of Charity during the siege and the Commune of Paris. Part V. 
gives prayers and litanies. The entire Manual is imbued with 
a heavenly atmosphere of a more than human charity, that 
makes acts of charity holily attractive, practically helpful, and 
truly spiritual. 



458 



THE CHARITABLE WORK OF WOMEN. 



[Jan., 



Leon Aubineau gave, in his charming work, Les Serviteurs 
de Dieu, a striking account of the Marquise Le Bouteiller, one of 
the most active and distinguished members of the Ladies of 
Charity since the Revolution. M. Etienne said of her, at a 
meeting of the ladies after her death: "She recalled to me 
admirably those elect souls whom God had expressly formed to 
second St. Vincent de Paul in the accomplishment of his gre-at 
enterprises of charity, and who will for ever share the glory of 
his name." Are there no such elect souls among the Catholic 
women of the United States to-day ? There surely are. 

In union is strength. To carry out in its fulness the plan 
briefly indicated here, and to bring about completely this noble 
union, might entail some slight renunciation of lesser plans 
and aims. But this renunciation would be scarcely felt if the 
bond of union is made, as above suggested, a thoroughly elas- 
tic one, under the guidance of that Divine Spirit who breatheth 
where he wills. The central organization being extended in its 
aim and purpose to all work among the needy and suffering, 
and thus embracing a scope as wide as the conferences, it is 
easy to see that all could become closely connected, rallying 
for a centre round him whom we know as the Apostle of 
Charity, St. Vincent de Paul. 




I8 99-J CHRISTMAS IN BETHLEHEM. 

CHRISTMAS IN BETHLEHEM. 

BY CHARLES C. SVENDSEN. 



459 




in Bethlehem ! What a rush of feel- 
ings, tender memories, and happy moments the 
mere thought of Christmas brings to the Chris- 
tian. And Christmas in Bethlehem ! The pen 
falters to describe the glorious thought of being 
at the birthplace of our Lord on Christmas morning. You are 
a child again at Bethlehem, with the pure desires of a child, 
the holy faith of a child, the confident hope of a child, and 
are transformed into the spiritual being God had intended man 
to be. There is no human thing to interest you ; you forget 
earth and things of earth ; the mortal for once is subordinate 
to the grand ecstasy of the immortal. The heart bounds in 
happy abandonment of everything in the world, and with purest 
pleasure the spirit adores at the " Holy City of Fulfilment," 
where the " Word was made flesh " and mankind's Saviour be- 
came man. You can only melt into the child of yesterday 
when, with childlike mind, you think of the coziness and charm 
on Christmas morning that must surround the place honored 
by Christ's birth. 

Bethlehem is not disappointing to the pilgrim. The shrines 
and character of the city are in keeping with its glorious his- 
tory, and to the Christian at Christmas-tide it is the source of 
true consolation. We approached Bethlehem with a different 
feeling than the curiosity which overcame us when we drew 
near the ruined splendor of Solomon's Temple, the wonder- 
ment we felt as we stood at the paws of the speechless Sphinx 
in the desert, or the admiration at some shrine where a crea- 
tion of the master mind of Raphael or Murillo was to be seen, 
or even the respectful homage that came from us at the resting- 
place of some genius who had enriched the world with new 
beauties. It was altogether a new feeling which we experienced 
during our visit to the spot where was born the King whose 
sceptre is Greatness, Beauty, Justice, and Love, and the effect 
of our visit indeed was of a different kind than experienced 
anywhere else in the world. 

Bethlehem is six miles south of Jerusalem. The traveller 



460 CHRISTMAS IN BETHLEHEM. [Jan., 

has the choice of riding, driving, or walking to reach it, as an 
excellent wagon-road now leads to it. The route from Jerusa- 
lem extends from the Jaffa Gate, where numerous peasants 
from the neighboring villages lounge about in idleness and 
Arab hackmen invite you to a seat in their carriage ; past the 
sombre canyon which indicates the one-time boundaries of 
Benjamin and Judah, the Ennom Valley below, deserted and 
spoilt as the worshippers of Moloch had left it when challenged 
by the prophet to cease the useless sacrifice of children ; and 
along the causeway that stretches towards the upland, flanked 
on either side by stony gardens and the plain of Bekaa, with a 
view of purple hills that rise to cerulean skies. 

Our way led us past the ancient Greek monastery of Mar 
Elias, outside of which Elias rested on a stone bed, which is 
pointed out under an old tree. A little off the way of this we 
came to the Well of the Three Kings, where it is said the Wise 
Men rested with their caravan after inquiring of Herod for the 
new King of Israel. Tradition tells that the wondrous star reap- 
peared to them at this spot and led their way towards the 
opening of the caravansary where they found the Christ-Child 
and the Virgin Mother and Joseph. Tissot, the penitent artist, 
in his pictorial life of Christ gives a very graphic sketch of this 
incident, employing the data which he collected on the spot. 

The region is rich in the beauties the painter seeks ; but 
the peaceful hills surrounding do not suggest the one-time camp- 
ing ground of the Philistines who were smitten by David, the 
gleam of battle and the clamor of armed hosts who rolled over 
the country in deadly strife. Abraham and Benjamin passed 
this road. Cultivated spots were seen everywhere until we 
reached the Field of Pease, which is enclosed in the property 
of the Knights of Malta, a Catholic brotherhood who conduct 
a hospital. The field is mentioned in Scripture as the place 
where Christ asked the husbandman what he was sowing ; to 
which he replied " stones." The field produced pease of stone 
thereafter. 

In a wild and solitary spot we beheld the dismantled Tomb 
of Rachel, the fair mother of Israel. The Mohammedans, 
Christians, and Jews venerate it, and it is of undisputed authen- 
ticity. No writer, ancient or modern, has doubted its anti- 
quity, or that the ashes of Rachel rest beneath it, as it is 
mentioned in Genesis and frequently referred to by later 
scriptural writers. Came says : " There is something in this 
sepulchre in the wilderness that excites a deeper interest than 



1 899.] 



CHRISTMAS IN BETHLEHEM. 



461 




"FAR DOWN IN THE VALLEY, BASKING IN THE SUNSHINE, WAS THE SHEPHERDS' FIELD." 

more splendid or revered ones. The tombs of Zacharias and 
Absalom in the Valley of Josaphat, or that of the Kings in the 
plain of Jeremias, the traveller looks at with careless indiffer- 
ence ; beside that of Rachel his fancy wanders to the land of 
the people of the East ; to the power of beauty that could so 
long make banishment sweet ; to the devoted companion of the 
wanderer who deemed all troubles light for her sake." 

Then from a rise on our way we surveyed the natural 
panorama before us, and scriptural scenes, which we had stored 
while perusing the story, came to our mind with beauty and 
vividness. We had a view of the far-reaching plain and the 
Judean country of senescent grandeur. The hills were many 
that we beheld, and they grew purpler and more tender of 
form with distance. Toward the west was the crowned top 
of the Frank Mountain, which the Crusaders occupied for 
hundreds of years, and farther west was seen the vapors arising 
from the Dead Sea, beyond which lay stony Arabia. The 
region was familiar to David as a child, where he herded his 
father's flocks, and where the gentle Ruth came with Noemi 
and gleaned in the field of Booz. Joseph, the spouse of Mary, 
passed this way, following the edict of Caesar Augustus, who 
taxed the whole world : " And all went to be enrolled, every 
one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee 



462 CHRISTMAS IN BETHLEHEM. [Jan., 

out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, to be enrolled with 
Mary his espoused wife." 

Far down in the valley, basking in sunshine, were the Shep- 
herds' Field and the village of Bet Sahur, where the good men 
lived who heard the angel message : " I bring you good tidings 
of great joy, that shall be to all people. For this day is born 
to you a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord, in the City of David," 
You seem to hear an echo of the Gloria sung by the " multi- 
tude of the heavenly army praising God," and nineteen cen- 
turies seem but to have increased the charm of the beautiful 
song of praise, " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth 
peace to men of good will." 

A few moments later the abrupt termination of a hill brought 
us in full sight of Bethlehem, its compactness and orientalism 
growing more distinct each moment as we drew nearer. There 
was a loneliness about the hill-top upon which Bethlehem rests, 
and yet a thrill of adoration and warmth goes on within the 
soul of the pilgrim as he takes in the tender delicacy of the 
scene, with its associations, for the first time : the white houses 
towering high above ; Bethlehem, " a pearl in steel, a diamond 
set in brass " a fit subject for the brush of some peerless 
artist. 

Bethlehem, to which the prophet Micheas refers as the 
"little one among the thousands of Juda," out of which k< He 
shall come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel," is dis- 
tinguished from another Bethlehem in Galilee by the additional 
name " Ephrata," meaning the' fruitful, as the country which 
surrounds it was the most fruitful and lovely in Judea in 
ancient times, as it is to the present day. The honor it had of 
being the birthplace of our Lord, however, would give it suffi- 
cient distinction from any other towns bearing the same name. 
Abraham named it Beth-Lehem that is, House of Bread and 
it is also called the City of David because it was the birth- 
place of the greatest king of Israel. At Christmas-tide every 
native Christian and all the pilgrims who come from distant 
countries can be seen journeying to it on the way we just 
crossed. 

Having entered the city through buttressed lanes, the first 
building which impresses the beholder is the Church of the 
Nativity, which is enclosed in the large convent building, and 
which combines three religious houses, that of the Armenians, 
Greeks, and Catholics. The convent is a massive structure 
facing the market square, or Place of Khans, built of ponder- 



CHRISTMAS IN BETHLEHEM. 



463 



ous stones, high and strong, giving the impression of a fortress. 
A small door cut through the wall leads to the interior, and we 
were obliged to stoop in order to enter, pushing aside a large 
leathern door which swings on the inside like a curtain. In 
other parts of Palestine the churches cannot be entered by 
a direct passageway from the street, and the entrance here is 




THE PLACE OF KHANS. 

purposely small, as we were told, to prevent a number of peo- 
ple from entering at one time. The precaution is necessary 
for fear of fanatical outbreaks on the part of the Turks, which 
were of frequent occurrence years ago, and also to keep out 
domesticated animals seeking shelter. 

The first Christians erected a chapel over the cave where 
the Saviour was born, and the pilgrimages to the spot were 
numerous from the beginning. Bethlehem fell under pagan 
dominion with the other cities of Palestine, and Hadrian tried 
to obliterate the very place indicating the Divine Event by 
razing the chapel to the ground and placing a large statue of 
Adonis over it, as he likewise took down the churches and 
erected statues of Venus and Apollo over the tomb of the 
Saviour and the place of his death at Jerusalem. But the act 
of desecration in reality perpetuated the traditional sites. Later 
the Christian Empress Helena, to whom Palestine owes many 



464 



CHRISTMAS IN BETHLEHEM. 



[Jan., 



noteworthy churches, erected the present Church of the Nativ- 
ity during her wanderings at the holy spots. The reign of 
Constantine effected the destruction of all the pagan images, 
and his edict that the people " worship no false gods " was 
carried out. 

The venerable church, as one sees it to-day, is in a rather 
neglected condition ; the fact that it is in the possession of the 
Greeks accounting for this. Its former beauty and grandeur, 
however, can be traced even in its decaying state. The large 
central interior has forty-eight marble pillars of Corinthian pat- 
tern, and the walls are decorated with mosaics and frescoes 
evidently dating from the infancy of art. A sculptured baptis- 




CHILDREN IN THE ARMENIAN RITE. 

mal font stands in the lonely aisle, and the floors and acces- 
sories are allowed to crumble for want of repairs. In the 
transept of the cross-formed edifice can be seen the Greek and 
Armenian chapels, richly decorated with brazen lamps and can- 
delabra, tapestry and rugs. In close proximity to the church 
is the Catholic parish church of Bethlehem, the Church of St. 
Catherine, a simple structure, commodious but hardly large 
enough for the growing congregation. When services are held 
here the men occupy the left side, and the women the right side 
of the aisle, kneeling upon the paved floor in picturesque attitudes. 
It was noticeable, too, that the men remove the fez, or head- 
dress, during the service, a form which is optional, it seems, in 



1 899.] 



CHRISTMAS IN BETHLEHEM. 



465 




the other churches of the Holy 
Land. The church is neatly fur- 
nished, and, besides possessing an 
organ of rare volume, the sanctu- 
ary contains beautiful pictures re- 
presenting " The Birth of the Sav- 
iour " and " The Adoration of the 
Shepherds," signed by a French 
artist. The church is in charge of 
the Franciscan Fathers, who also 
have charge of all the other Ca- 
tholic shrines of the Holy Land. 
The pilgrim finds shelter at their 
cozy hospice. The fathers watch 
day and night at the holy places, 
and the difficulties which they 
sometimes encounter here, as well 
as elsewhere, in maintaining pos- 
session of them are many, requir- 
ing the greatest self-sacrifice. The 

endurance which they are capable MODERN WOMAN OF BETHLEHEM. 

of, though, is an evidence of their seriousness and valor, to give 
a good account of the sacred stewardship entrusted to them 
for many centuries by the popes. They are brave and devout 
men, who shirk no personal dangers whatever in struggling 
for our rights, and perils are continuously menacing them, if 
only trivial in latter years. 

A stairway leads from the Church of St. Catherine to the 
Grotto of the Nativity, and is used by Catholics only, the 
Greeks and Armenians having separate approaches. Every 
afternoon of the year a procession starts towards the Grotto. 
About twenty cowled monks, carrying lighted tapers and sing- 
ing Vespers, were descending into the Grotto as we arrived ; 
the pilgrims followed, and it was our privilege to join them. 
The dark cave is explored until a large sanctuary is entered, 
the Chapel of the Nativity. It is thirty-eight feet long and ten 
feet high. The walls and ceiling of the cave were covered 
with costly marble by Helena, and thirty-two lamps were burn- 
ing in the crypt, where no daylight can enter. A niche in the 
Grotto was reached where the birthplace of our Lord is indi- 
cated by a stone of a bluish cast, over which was a silver em- 
blem of the sun, with the inscription, " Hie de Virgine Maria 
Jesus Christus natus est." The monks and pilgrims threw 



466 



CHRISTMAS IN BETHLEHEM. 



[Jan., 



themselves on their knees and kissed the spot. The primal 
rock of the cave is hidden by rich gifts of silk, plush, and gold, 
and expensive embroideries hang about in profusion. Fifteen 
oil lamps burn always before it. An air of holiness which is 
irresistible pervades the deep cave, and, indeed, the person who 
is privileged to visit there without being moved to his inner- 
most soul must have a hardened heart. I have seen tourists 
conduct themselves with poor grace, bordering on disrespect, 
at many of the holy places shown them, and I have seen the 
same tourists melt to tears when they read " Here the Virgin 
Mary gave birth to Jesus Christ." At one of our visits we saw 




ACCORDING TO THE ARMENIAN RITE. 

a Western woman stand (stand because she was determined 
not to kneel) at the Holiest Place in the world. But soon her 
better nature became master, cynicism was cast aside ; she for- 
got self, and with the light of faith in her eyes she fell on her 
face and repeatedly kissed the Holy Spot, and cried " I believe 
it is here ! I feel it is here ! " The experience of the soul at 
the moment of full faith is a foretaste of that inexpressible 
bliss the Apostle tells of : " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, 
neither hath it entered into the heart of man"; and may we 
be permitted to add that no pen has described the perfect joy, 
sweetness, and contentment of the believing Christian as he 
kneels at the Crib of Bethlehem ? 



1 899.] 



CHRISTMAS IN BETHLEHEM. 



467 




IN THE MARKET-PLACE. 

The Greeks possess the Holy Spot, and a few feet away, 
lower down, is another niche belonging to the Catholics, where 
we were shown the marble-covered Crib wherein Christ slept 
as a child, on the identical spot where the Magi of the East 
adored the God-King and left princely gifts as a token of homage. 
A picture of the Adoration of the Shepherds generally covers 
the naked rock of the cave by this niche, but in the Christmas 
season it is removed and the walls are exposed. Another sub- 
terraneous passage-way leads to the spot where the angel ap- 
peared to St. Joseph in a dream, and told him to flee from 
the perfidy of King Herod and take the Mother and Babe to 
Egypt ; while farther on an altar is dedicated to the massacred 
Innocents. Small altars also indicate the earthly resting- 
VOL. LXVIII. 30 



468 CHRISTMAS IN BETHLEHEM. [Jan., 

places of St. Eusebius, St. Paula, and St. Eustochium, who 
lived in the Grotto. Somewhat deeper still we saw the dwell- 
ing of St. Jerome, now transformed into a chapel. St. Jerome 
spent much of his life in this little cave, doing those inspired 
labors which have won for him the name of the Great Father 
of the Church. 

Christmas, so to speak, is celebrated in this Grotto through- 
out the year a perpetual homage but special ceremonies oc- 
cur on Christmas only, which may be noted. Every one knows 
with what splendor and joy the feast of Christ's birth is cele- 
brated throughout the Catholic world the Midnight Mass, ex- 
ultant ringing of bells, and the songs of children interspersing 
the religious ceremony. The same ceremonies take place at 
Bethlehem with all the gorgeousness and pomp such splendid 
functions will allow. 

On the afternoon of the day before Christmas the Latin 
Patriarch, who is a Franciscan, and numerous fathers from the 
Monastery of the Redeemer, Jerusalem, arrived at the market- 
place, which is the chief square of the town. They were re- 
ceived by the French consul, the Turkish soldiers from the 
local garrison, officials, and mounted officers. A band, composed 
of Arab boys from the Catholic Orphanage, played march music, 
and the concourse of people in gayest holiday costumes, who 
filled the square and the terraces and house-tops, was a splen- 
did and picturesque sight. With the songs of priests and people 
the oriental pageant entered the church. Benediction was pro- 
nounced by the venerable Patriarch, and the Christmas ceremo- 
nies began. 

Christmas Eve the Christians assembled in the parish church, 
where manly-voiced friars were singing Matins. Outside bon- 
fires were blazing, and the quaint square was warm and bright. 
At ten o'clock a procession was formed by priests, headed by 
the Guardian of the Holy Crib, who carried a wax image of the 
Christ-Child in his arms ; prayers and music issued with a 
softened cadence from the subterraneous sanctuaries. When 
the procession arrived at the niche containing the Holy Crib, 
a deacon received the Christ-Child. The Gospel was sung, and 
when the words were expressed " Here she brought forth her 
first-born Son, and wrapped him in swaddling-clothes, and here 
laid him in a manger," the act of an assistant suited the words ; 
they wrapped the Babe in swaddling-clothes and laid him in 
the recess of the manger. All of the assembled bowed rever- 
entially, and in succession fell on their knees and kissed the 



1 899-] 



CHRISTMAS IN BETHLEHEM. 



469 



semblance of the Holy Infant. The actions of every one pre- 
sent were such as if the Christ-Child was there in person. 
There was no fear of His majesty, however, or apprehension 




ENTRY OF THE LATIN PATRIARCH INTO BETHLEHEM ON CHRISTMAS MORNING. 

of giving offence, but a confident clinging' to the promises He 
made, which every one kneeling there felt. 

Before the approach of midnight the Church of the Nativity 
was crowded to its extremest capacity by Syrians, Russians, 
Germans, and representatives of other nations. And when the 
chimes of the parish church sounded through the still air, an- 
nouncing the commencement of the midnight Mass, there were 
sounds of fervent praying and rejoicing from the great throng. 
The same Mass was being sung in St. Peter's, Rome, beneath 
the mighty dome of Michael Angelo ; in the Madeleine, Paris, 
and in St. Patrick's, New York, and in all the Catholic churches 
the world over, with the greatest possible Sclat, pomp, and devo- 
tion ; but the realization of being present at a ceremony on the 
very spot where Christ, the incarnate God, the Way, the Truth, 
and the Light, deigned to take the form of man in a humble 



4/0 



CHRISTMAS IN BETHLEHEM. 



[Jan., 



stable, was a moment of the purest joy and unalloyed faith ex- 
perienced but a few times in life. Every one was happy and 
joyous, and the beauty and tenderness of each soul was reflect- 
ed on the countenances of the devout gathering. There was 
one motive noticeable in the congregation to love the little 
Christ-Child, and we were particularly made glad seeing the 
attachment and devotion of the natives of Bethlehem to their 
faith. 

The priests were vested in the finest silks, and. on this day 
they used vestments embroidered by queenly hands. The cope 
of the Guardian was regal in wealth, gold and precious stones 
gleaming everywhere from it. The altar of the three Wise 
Men, where the Mass was in progress, also was appropriately 
adorned with lights and the mementoes of European kings. 
The ceremonies were over before daybreak, and the oriental 
morning, crisp, cool, and bracing, was gliding in and leaving be- 
hind a night that was holy and blessed. But the people remained 
at the Holy Grotto long after the white sun arose and sent a 
halo of light over Bethlehem, and then went to their homes in 
general merrymaking. 





1 899.] THE CHURCH AND FRATERNAL SOCIETIES. 471 



THE CATHOLIC CHURCH AND FRATERNAL 

SOCIETIES. 

BY REV. H. A. BRANN, D.D. 

IKE many other words that are frequently on the 
lips of publicists, or are used as the shibboleths 
of party gatherings, " fraternity " has its false 
as well as its true meanings. The anarchist cries 
fraternity, and stabs the head of the state ; the 
representative of authority is not his brother. The socialist 
cries fraternity, and proceeds to rob the rich ; the owner of 
property is not his brother. The French Revolutionist shouted 
for liberty, fraternity, and equality, and yet in the same breath 
he cried : " The aristocrats to the lamp-post "; aristocrats or 
priests were not his brethren because his ideals were pagan. 

The Catholic Church supplied the world with a new and 
distinct term in the word " brother," and attached to it a 
meaning that was unknown in pagan civilization. The head of 
a fraternal organization, which in his day was destined to be- 
come, and since his day really has become, the greatest frater- 
nal organization the world has known, wrote : " And finally be ye 
all of one mind, having compassion one of another, loving the 
brotherhood, merciful and humble." It was his care to foster 
a spirit that animated a brotherhood that was instituted for 
the whole world, for Jew and Gentile, for rich and poor, for 
savage and civilized. This brotherhood is the Catholic Church. 
Its founder was God, who assumed our human nature, and thus 
became our brother, and elevated us to the dignity of being the 
sons of God. 

The Prince of the Apostles learned the true meaning 
from the Master who had planned it and gave it its consti- 
tution and laws. From the divine Master's lips he had heard 
the command to spread the brotherhood over the whole 
world in unity of government, faith and charity. He had seen 
the divine Master institute the fraternal banquet at which all 
the brethren sat down in perfect equality, and which was to be 
repeated to the end of time. Peter was present at the first 
feast where Christ sat with the twelve as brothers at the same 

* I. St. Peter iii. 8. 



47^ THE CHURCH AND FRATERNAL SOCIETIES. [~J an -> 

table, a love-feast that continues to be celebrated every day in 
the year and in every land, " from the rising of the sun even to 
the going down." * It was this banquet, and the spirit of it, 
that made the early Christians call one another brethren, and 
made them known as brethren even to the pagans. 

This great brotherhood is a living and fruitful organism, and 
hence the creator of organizations like to itself in spirit and 
character. They are the product of its fecundating love. As 
a great lake, overflowing with the waters of never-failing springs, 
sends many streams through the plains and valleys to refresh 
and fertilize them, so the Catholic Church sends out from her 
inexhaustible bosom countless organizations for religious and 
benevolent purposes. Her religious orders, her societies of St. 
Vincent de Paul, her society for the propagation of the faith, 
for the redemption of captives, are all the fruits of Christian 
fraternity. They are the product of Christian faith and Chris- 
tian charity, which, being Catholic, concern the welfare of the 
whole man, body as well as soul. 

We all see the action of this fraternal spirit in the world 
of to-day. We know now that where that spirit exists there is 
genuine Christianity. But the spirit of fraternity is now so 
common that we often forget its origin, and the cause which 
produced it. We often ungratefully forget that it was the 
Christian religion which not only produced fraternal organiza- 
tions of its own, but, acting outside of itself upon all the natu- 
ral sources of fraternity, purified them where they had become 
adulterated by paganism, and made them wholesome springs 
for the regeneration of the world. 

The natural sources of fraternity are chiefly two, the family 
and the nation. The family is the first source of fraternity. 
Children of the same mother, living in the same house, eating 
at the same table, are brothers ; and in a wider sense, relatives 
are brothers, because the same stream of blood flows in their 
veins. This is according to the law of nature, the law of con- 
sanguinity. Now, how did the Christian Church find this law 
when she undertook to evangelize the world ? She found the 
natural law ignored and trampled on. The father stood in the 
family an uncrowned despot, having practically the power of 
life and death over his wife and children. Neither natural jus- 
tice nor the voice of nature controlled his action. The family 
was a cold, heartless creature of the state ; agnation, which was 
simply an extension of the father's despotic power in the line 

* Malachias i. n. 



1 899.] THE CHURCH AND FRATERNAL SOCIETIES. 473 

of his own relatives before marriage, instead of consanguinity 
or the more direct tie of blood, controlled the descent of pro- 
perty and the right to inherit. Compare the laws of the twelve 
tables, and the commentaries on them of the pagans Ulpian 
and Caius, with the great code of the Christian emperor, Jus- 
tinian, if you wish to see how Christianity restored the family 
to the rights which it had by the natural law, and which it has 
by the laws of Christ : how Christianity curbed the power of 
the father, elevated the mother through the sacrament of mar- 
riage, and restored the rights of children to life, to liberty, arid 
to property. Through the Christian code they became not 
only the subjects of their parents but brethren and co-heirs in 
Christ. Christianity made the child the brother of his own 
father. 

It is a noteworthy fact that when politicians apostatize from 
the Christian religion, and with the hatred of apostasy wish to 
destroy its influence, they return to pagan models, and make 
war on the natural rights of the family. For instance, they 
make laws of divorce, or laws enforcing godless education the 
one to degrade the mother, the other to rob the child of an in- 
alienable right ; or they make laws to punish Christians for try- 
ing to sustain the teaching of Christ. Thus the only fraternity 
of the pagan and the apostate is one of hate. They combine 
to destroy the rights of the family, which Christianity defends 
and protects. 

The second great source of natural fraternity is the nation 
or the race. We have a natural attachment to the land in which 
we were born, to its mountains, valleys, rivers, and lakes, and 
to the people among whom we have lived, whose feelings and 
aspirations we share. The man who does not love his country 
is a monster. 

" Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said, 
This is my own, my native land ! " 

The quotation is trite, but the words are always appropri- 
ate. This love of country becomes stronger with age, and 
especially when, besides the natural beauties, the justice of its 
laws and constitution make the country doubly dear to the in- 
habitants. Our own great land is a case in point. There is no 
flag which represents such excellent political institutions as our 
starry banner. It is the only flag unsullied by religious or 
political persecution. No other people can say that of any 



474 THE CHURCH AND FRATERNAL SOCIETIES. [Jan., 

other flag. After every civil war in Europe hecatombs of vic- 
tims have fallen, sacrificed to political hate. After our civil 
war we let our erring brethren go, and in a short time forgave 
and forgot their offences. The history of every nation in Eu- 
rope is stained by bloody penal codes to punish religious offen- 
ces. Our government alone has never put a man to death for 
his religion. And therefore we have double reasons for loving 
our country. It has acted so far according to the spirit of 
Christianity. Our laws are tempered by its spirit and teaching. 
The laws of nature, the rights of individuals, and the laws of 
the Church are recognized. Our civil laws leave her free, 
respect her discipline, and protect her persons and property. 
Our political system is aptly calculated to make our nation 
one great Christian fraternity. 

Now, whence has our country derived that spirit of equity 
that reigns in her Constitution and law? Certainly not from 
the pagan idea of the state or nation. Paganism made the 
state God. From the state all rights were derived. Religion 
itself and the priesthood were the creatures of the civil power. 
Hence the first Christians who dared to practise a religion not 
recognized by the state were accused of treason, and punished 
as traitors. The fact that they professed belief in the divinity 
of Christ was deemed a mortal offence to the divinity of the 
emperor, and deserving of death. Yet it is this very theory of 
the power of the state that the apostate politicians of modern 
times accept. They claim for the state a spiritual as well as a 
temporal supremacy. Acting upon this claim, in Europe they 
have imprisoned and disfranchised clerics, and confiscated 
church property. They have claimed for Caesar the rights of 
God, and made laws oppressive of the conscience of the people. 
They have established state churches, and governed them as if 
they were purely political institutions, as in England. They 
have made the will of the law-maker, whether he be a czar in 
an empire or the majority in a republic, the supreme cri- 
terion of right and wrong, the god whom to disobey is treason. 
Acting upon this pagan theory, the so-called republic of France 
is as much a foe to fraternity as Russia. Fraternity implies a 
union of hearts of the whole people. How can there be fra- 
ternity when the majority is always depriving the minority of 
its rights ? The majority in this country that is to say, our 
ruler in spite of certain pagan tendencies, has not yet begun, 
openly and directly, to deprive the minority of its legitimate 
rights. The spirit of our people and of our institutions was 



1899-] THE CHURCH AND FRATERNAL SOCIETIES. 475 

unknown to Grecian or Roman paganism. This spirit is not of 
barbarian origin. We have not derived it (although some say 
so) from a race of ferocious pirates, who before they became 
Christians held their brothers in slavery, and whose funda- 
mental principle of law was that " every man should have a 
lord," and who spent most of their time in butchering one an- 
other. The spirit of our laws, like the laws of the good King 
Edward, and the laws deriving their origin from Magna Charta, 
is Christian. It is in the Christian code of Justinian and in 
the Canon Law of the Catholic Church that you must seek 
the origin of our enlightened legislation. The limitation of the 
husband's power, the right of dower for the wife, the right of 
property, as it now exists, for the children, are all of Christian 
origin. Long before our system, the political systems of Spain, 
France, and Italy, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, 
breathed the spirit of Christian fraternity. The separate pro- 
vincial parliaments holding the authority of the kings in check, 
the Jneros of Spain, the coutumiers of France, the privileges and 
exemptions of the Italian republics and princedoms, were all 
foreign to the despotic idea of pagan government, and the 
product of Christian ideas. They were not perfect govern- 
ments, for nothing human can be that ; but they were immeas- 
urably superior to the cruel, centralized despotism of the 
pagan system, which destroyed both in the family and in the 
nation the idea of fraternity. Christianity, by fostering that 
idea, softened the seventy of the civil laws, and made mankind 
realize that all were descended from a common pair, and 
created by a common Father, who is in heaven. 

In fact, our very political system seems to be copied from 
the idea of Catholic brotherhood as realized in the church. 
There is no political organization in the world so like the 
Catholic Church as that of the United States. Just as in the 
church we have many dioceses, each having its own laws and 
its own rulers, yet subordinate to the central power in Rome, so 
have we in the United States many States, each having its own 
laws and home rule, but subject to the central power in Wash- 
ington. We have that unity in variety which makes political, 
as it helps to make all other beauty. The spirit of Christian 
fraternity pervades our laws, and makes all the citizens equal; 
as in the church all the faithful are equal at the same sacra- 
mental banquet. 




476 A FALLEN IDOL. [Jan., 

A FALLEN IDOL. 

BY EDITH M. SMITH. 

;IONEL STEWART threw himself on the ground 
in the miserly shade of a clump of scrub 
oaks, and casting his pick as far as the strength 
of a sinewy arm could hurl it, he leaned against 
a background of age-scarred rocks and gave 
himself up to the musings of despair. The stillness of a mid- 
summer noon in New Mexico enveloped him. Amid a silence 
so unbroken his quiet breathing sounded strained and stertor- 
ous, for neither twilight's calm nor midnight's holy hour finds 
the noises of nature so hushed as when an August sun, blazing 
at full meridian, enervates even the most minute and active 
specimens of insect life. 

In the east the spasmodic charivari of the locusts would 
have proclaimed the sultriness of the weather, but in southern 
New Mexico that tantalizing pest is unknown a fact which 
goes to prove that Providence distributes the goods and ills of 
life with less partiality than man would have us believe. 

With even six bits in his possession Stewart would have 
been quite in a mood to enjoy the gorgeous panorama spread 
out before him and to while away hours in lazy contemplation 
of the matchless mountain scenery ; but to-day he was strug- 
gling with a feeling of unrest and despondency quite foreign to 
his usually sunny disposition, and melancholy was fast threaten- 
ing to " mark him for her own." 

Lionel Stewart, a graduate of the Harvard law class of '93, 
had come West with the laudable intention of following Greeley's 
advice and growing-up with the country. With a foresight 
which his admiring family considered unparalleled in the an- 
nals of contemporary biography, he decided to open an office 
in a small but progressive town, make a reputation in his 
chosen profession, and . be ready and willing, when New 
Mexico attained the dignity of statehood, to go as her able 
representative in the United States Senate ! Incidentally he 
was equipped with an average amount of energy, the experi- 
ence that college life generally gives, and five hundred dollars 
in cash the legacy of a deceased uncle. Aided by these sim- 



1899-] A FALLEN IDOL. 477 

pie gifts of fortune and buoyed with the confidence of youth, 
Stewart firmly believed that his every plan would materialize, 
and he allowed himself five years in which to accomplish his 
course and return or be returned a conquering hero to 
Washington. But 

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

By the time he was established in Silverton and before the 
glittering newness of his black and gold sign had worn away, 
Stewart found, to his surprise, that in point of growth the 
country had got the start of him by at least twenty years, and 
that sixty other men, college graduates like himself, and pos- 
sessed of the same legal ambitions, had likewise chosen Silver- 
ton as a first stage on the road to fame, and that every season 
brought thither fresh scions of the law all lured westward by 
Horace Greeley's immortal words. 

This was discouraging, for the population of Silverton con- 
sisted of scarcely more than six hundred inhabitants, and even 
in the wild and belligerent West a man can't expect a lucrative 
practice when there is one of his profession to every ten citi- 
zens. Then there were other difficulties : Silverton proved to 
be an orderly, well-behaved little burg, with small demand for 
legal talent. When a question of property, or the like, arose, 
the disputants as a rule preferred to settle it themselves at 
the point of a pistol without any reference to Blackstone or 
Coke ; nor was it uncommon for the successful party to show 
his regret for what had occurred by appearing with the mourn- 
ers at the funeral of the deceased, and in helping to defray 
the expenses thereof. 

As in days of old the law of might superseded that of 
right, so in these days, on the frontier of our mighty Republic, 
equity usually rests with the man who is quickest with his gun. 

A trial for murder rarely takes place. Cui bono ? A New 
Mexican jury is opposed to capital punishment on principle, 
and sending a man to the penitentiary is a useless and expen- 
sive form of justice, since the governor invariably pardons the 
criminal before his term is well begun. Hence, on the specious 
plea of self-defence, all quarrels are quickly and permanently 
settled ; a proceeding which doubtless benefits the defendant, 
but is hardly fair to the struggling lawyer, and it took Stewart 
only twelve months to conclude that, through no fault of his 
own, his chosen profession was a failure. He sold his office 



478 A FALLEN IDOL. [Jan., 

furniture for a song, threw in the sign for good measure, rented 
his books to a sanguine successor who failed, promptly and 
entirely, to pay any rent after the first month, and invested 
his last hundred in a newspaper, the former editor of which 
found it expedient to leave that part of the country until 
after a certain embezzling unpleasantness, wherein he had 
prominently figured, was forgotten. 

The Free Silver Clarion for a time proved successful; its 
editorials were devoted to the forcible, if not practical, solu- 
tion of the currency question, and to scathing reflections upon 
the gold-bug journalists across the way. But six months later a 
younger weekly was started by a man who had the advantage 
of deeper political lore as well as a free vocabulary of invec- 
tive. Subscribers flocked to the new standard, and in a little 
while the Free Silver Clarion ceased its shrieks. 

Stewart then lived on borrowed capital, doing whatever work 
he could get, and consoling himself in the meantime with the 
philosophy of the illustrious Micawber. He was not proud, 
but he could not descend to the level of " measuring drinks " 
in a bar-room, and as that was the only position offered him 
after several months of idleness, he determined to turn prospec- 
tor and obtain from Mother Earth the riches that his unappre- 
ciative fellow-men refused to give. 

Fortunately he was possessed of a staunch friend in the 
owner of the Mountain Queen mine, a man who had already 
" made his stake," and who, in consequence, believed firmly in 
the possibilities of other claims. Mr. MacAlpine was sincerely 
fond of Lionel, whom he had come to regard as a son ; he 
feared, moreover, that if the young fellow remained longer 
without employment he would yield to the temptations of fron- 
tier life and follow the downward path that so many have trod 
before him. 

So MacAlpine offered to grubstake him for a year ; a pre- 
position which Lionel gratefully accepted, and for twelve 
months he had led the nomadic life his soul loved, wandering 
among the majestic hills near to Nature's heart, with rifle, horse, 
and pick for his sole companions, and at night a few favorite 
books to help him while away the tedium of his wakeful 
hours. 

It was all very different from the career he had mapped out ; 
but how few of us achieve the aspirations of our youth, and 
who has ever realized his ambition ? Stewart was happy 
as a king, contented as a Mexican, which is a more truthful 



1 899.] A FALLEN IDOL. 479 

figure of speech. Unfortunately one can't exist entirely on 
hope and air not even the balmy, bracing air of southern 
New Mexico. Stewart's tenure as a grub-staker would expire 
in a week, his provender could not hold out that long, and it 
was with the consciousness of these disheartening facts staring 
him in the face that our story opens. 

After an hour's lazy enjoyment of the dolce far mente, now 
interrupted by the change of the sun whose rays had begun to 
pierce the interstices of his meagre arboreal canopy, Stewart 
sprang to his feet and began a dejected search through each 
pocket in turn. It was fruitless. Twenty-five cents in the coin 
of the realm and a black seal wallet with sterling silver trim- 
mings handsome but empty were the only results of this 
most vigorous investigation. The former represented his bank 
account in its entirety; the latter existed merely as a satire on 
the inutility of the average Christmas gift. 

Stewart examined it with a smile of grim amusement. " Et 
tu, Brute ! " he quoted as he returned it to an inner pocket. 
" Well, I think the time has come for me to arise and go to 
my father ; but even the Prodigal Son act can't be carried in- 
to effect without money in these days. I will have to write 
home for funds ere I can present myself in person, and that 
will take time even if the dear old ' governor ' has any to send 
me. I am forced to admit that my resources are exhausted. 
There may be some letters in town for me that would help 
to solve the problem of what I shall next attempt ; I will ride 
in and see. But first let me get some lunch this air is an un- 
failing tonic, and man has rarely achieved success on an empty 
stomach." Stewart, thus soliloquizing, strode towards his tent 
humming a popular refrain in spite of the grave outlook of his 
fortunes, for youth and health are seldom long despondent. 

As he neared the tent he heard a groan, and a feeble voice 
quavered out, " Agua, seflor, agua, por 1'amor de Dios." 

Although startled, the prospector's quick ear followed the 
sound, and climbing hastily over a group of rocks that block- 
aded the snake-like trail leading to his camp, he sprang forward 
just in time to catch an aged Mexican who fell fainting in his 
arms. 

A tattered sombrero with tarnished silver adornings had 
fallen by the wayside, but the man still clutched his scarlet 
serape about him as if, notwithstanding the temperature, his 
emaciated form was covetous of its warmth. 

Stewart was a kindly-hearted fellow, tender as a woman 



480 A FALLEN IDOL. [Jan., 

where suffering was concerned ; he had acquired some slight 
degree of medical skill during his few years of " roughing it," 
and he knew the man had fainted from hunger and fatigue. 

" I hope he won't die on my hands," was his mental ejacu- 
lation as he laid the Mexican on the bed and forced some 
brandy through his clinched teeth. In a little while the man 
was sufficiently revived to thank his rescuer, with all the cour- 
teous volubility of his race, for his timely succor. 

Lionel spoke Spanish fluently. When he first came West he 
had expended many dollars of his precious hoard in learning 
that musical language, with the view of arguing cases before a 
Mexican jury. Thus far, however, he had found few opportu- 
nities of putting his knowledge to practical use. Had it not 
been for a flowing white beard which lent dignity to the old 
man's wrinkled, yellow face, he would have struck the beholder 
as a ludicrous reproduction of the mummy of Rameses III., 
and Stewart found himself marvelling at the animal instinct 
which makes the majority of people press eager lips to the cup 
of life long after the sweetness thereof has been drained and 
only bitter dregs remain. 

By degrees the patient's strength returned, and as he par- 
took feverishly of the coarse fare which was all his host had 
to offer, he began to talk, his conversation giving evidence of 
a culture and refinement far above that of the average per- 
son of his race in the South-west. 

The next day he appeared to rally, but Stewart made him 
keep his bed while he went into town for a physician. The 
doctor came, and after a cursory glance at the patient he called 
Lionel aside. 

" He can't last twenty-four hours, so you had better let me 
send the town officers for him and relieve you of further trou- 
ble. What can you do with a dead greaser ? " 

" Do you think I would turn a man out of my tent when 
he is dying ? " Stewart rejoined indignantly. " I would not so 
treat a dog. There will be ample time for the authorities to 
step in after he is dead and besides, he may recover." 

"All right, my boy; have your own way. This is your 
shooting match ! I meant no offence. Addios" And whistling 
cheerily, this promising son of ^Esculapius mounted his steed 
and was soon lost to sight among the mesquite-covered 
hills. Stewart then administered some powders which the doctor 
had left. Their effect upon the patient was instantaneous ; he 
seemed endowed with new vitality, and raising himself on his 



1899-] A FALLEN IDOL. 481 

couch he felt in his ragged vest for an envelope. It was worn 
and soiled with age. He handed it to Stewart, and then took 
from around his neck a locket of curiously carved silver. 

" Open it," he said faintly. Lionel complied and drew out 
a small piece of paper closely covered with characters, appar- 
ently in cipher. 

"Now the other paper; but quickly, my voice is failing," 
gasped the old man. The other paper proved to be a map or 
chart, carefully drawn on a sheet of blue foolscap how long 
ago one could but conjecture, for the blue was aging brown. 

Stewart, obeying directions, placed both papers on the bed 
before him. A wild glitter came into the Mexican's eyes, he 
begged excitedly for more brandy, and thus stimulated he be- 
gan to speak : " This is my legacy to you you who have saved 
me from perishing like a dog when those whom I had bene- 
fited cast me off. Ah ! but they did not believe the old man 
had anything more to give them. Bueno ; we will see ! To you 
I leave the secret that I had thought would perish with me. 
Seek the place marked on this chart by a +, lift the square 
stone, and wealth untold is yours ; gold, silver, precious stones 
all yours. Come closer, my son, and let me explain the 
cipher ; closer, closer oh, my God ! " 

The speaker fell back on his pillow, his voice dying away 
into a hoarse gurgle. Stewart hastened to give him the medicine 
the doctor had prescribed, but he motioned it away. Crossing 
his wasted hands upon his breast, he strove to murmur a prayer ; 
the breath of life grew faint and fainter, an expression of per- 
fect peace dawned upon the patriarch's worn face, and then 
Death stamped it with his icy seal for ever. 

Events, whether fortuitous or the reverse, frequently crowd 
upon each other in quick succession after months or years of 
stagnation. It may be that Fate, being blind, distributes her 
smiles and frowns indiscriminately, trusting to the goddess of 
Chance to equalize things here below. After Stewart had fol- 
lowed the canvas-covered wagon which did duty as hearse 
into town, and had seen that the old Mexican received as 
decent a burial as he could borrow money to pay for, he 
hastened to the post-office. 

Upon opening the first letter of the budget that was handed 
him, he observed with a thrill of pleasurable excitement that 
it contained a check for one hundred dollars. He had loaned 
that sum to an acquaintance when he first came to the terri- 
tory, in his green and salad days as it were ; the friend had 



482 A FALLEN IDOL. [Jan., 

long since "gone broke," which is the classic Western style 
of expressing one's state of insolvency, and Stewart had given 
up all hope of ever seeing his money again. 

" Bread cast upon the waters ! " exclaimed the young man 
gaily, waving the check before the eyes of Mr. MacAlpine, who 
at that moment entered the office. " This will at least enable 
me to settle some of my debts and live like a gentleman until 
I decide upon some course of action. It also goes to prove 
the wisdom of my motto, ' Nil desperandum.' ' 

The contents of the other letters were speedily digested and 
Stewart shoved them carelessly into his pocket. As he did so 
his hand came in contact with the locket. " By Jove ! I had 
forgotten all about my legacy." It was true ; he had thrust 
both trinket and papers out of sight when the old Mexican ex- 
pired, and the breaking up of camp, together with the various 
duties that had since occupied him, had effectually driven all 
thought of them from his mind. Besides, he looked upon the 
whole story as a dream, the delirious ravings of a dying man. 

That evening, however, when he retired to his room in the 
comfortable if not luxurious Broadway Hotel, he resolved to 
find the key to the puzzle. He began his work more in jest 
than in earnest, but the fascination of the thing grew upon 
him, and he persisted in his efforts until his quick mind grasped 
the cipher and he located, to his satisfaction, the mysterious 
stone. This result led him to hope that the legacy of which 
his strange guest had spoken might prove something more than 
the vagaries of an excited imagination. 

Some sixteen miles to the north of Silverton, at the ter- 
minus of a short range of mountains which stand outlined like 
a painted wall against the clear blue sky, is a rock famous in 
the vicinity as Santa Rita, or the " Kneeling Nun." It is carved 
by the hand of nature, perchance by the cataclysms of time, 
into the semblance of a woman standing with bowed head, and, 
like all such freaks of nature, it has various legends to explain 
its origin ; but, as Mr. Kipling would remark, that is another 
story. 

Stewart determined to put his discovery at once to the test ; 
so the following day he hunted up MacAlpine and told him 
of his mysterious inheritance. 

" Let us investigate, by all means," exclaimed the adven- 
turous Scotchman. " I will engage a team while you see about 
the provisions. Lay in enough to last us a week, and be sure 
to supply yourself with blasting powder and a fuse. Keep 



1899-] A FALLEN IDOL. 483 

everything dark, though ; for if this expedition turns out to be 
a fake the boys will badger the life out of us." 

It was too late when the men reached their destination to 
do anything more than make a cursory survey of the ground. 
Stewart found to his relief that the land around the fabled 
rock, corresponding to his diagram, was still unlocated virgin 
soil for him to preempt at pleasure. 

" I will not be in any danger of having my brains blown 
out for jumping another man's claim, and that is one point 
gained," was Stewart's consoling reflection as he lay that night 
on his improvised couch, which consisted of a mattress of sweet- 
smelling juniper boughs piled together, and covered with a 
couple of Navajo blankets. The blue dome of heaven, dotted 
with its myriad stars, made a canopy more gorgeous than has 
ever draped the resting-place of the mightiest king ; and yet 
our hero passed a restless night, his slumbers broken by the 
unearthly yelps of a prowling coyote and the almost equally 
weird notes of his snoring companion. 

Both men arose with the dawn, and while waiting impatiently 
for their coffee to boil Stewart went over the map with Mac- 
Alpine, carefully explaining the cipher and comparing the an- 
cient chart of the Mexican with the scene before them. There 
could be no mistake, for nature remains unchanged through the 
vicissitudes of centuries, until man, the arch-vandal, comes to 
mar her fair face with his iconoclastic touch. 

The coffee was not good, although Lionel had often boasted 
of his success in preparing this stimulating beverage ; this morn- 
ing, however, its muddiness passed without comment, and after 
a slight repast the men tethered their horses and prepared to 
ascend the precipitous cliffs, near the summit of which the re- 
creant nun is supposed to expiate her sin a modern version of 
Lot's wife. 

By this time the hidden treasure had taken such tangible 
hold of Stewart's mind that when, after hours of calculation 
and amateur surveying, he and his companion came upon a 
square, brown stone securely balanced upon a giant boulder, he 
waxed indignant at MacAlpine's expressions of surprise, ac- 
cepting the reality with the same imperturbability that he would 
have displayed in receiving a bequest from the hand of his 
family lawyer. 

To remove the square stone was the work of a second, but 
the boulder presented greater difficulties, and to this day neither 
man can tell whether they were overcome by sheer force of 

VOL.LXVIII. 31 



484 A FALLEN IDOL. [Jan., 

will or by adventitious aid. Suffice to say human ingenuity 
conquered and, as the rock went thundering down the steep side 
of the cliff, they saw opened before them a wide gap in the 
hill-side, presumably the entrance to a cave. 

" The plot deepens; who shall go first?" exclaimed Mac- 
Alpine. 

"I, of course; if there is any danger I should be the one 
to face it." 

*' Nobly spoken ; lead on, Macduff," replied the Scotchman, 
whose checkered career had so often led him into danger that 
the word fear held no meaning for him. Each man took the 
precaution to load his revolver and fasten his cartridge belt 
securely around him, for, as Stewart suggested, the cavern might 
have another entrance and serve as a lair for the wily panther. 
Then, lighting their lanterns, they entered the dark defile. 

For awhile their path seemed level enough, then it began 
to descend, and at last Stewart was obliged to go down on 
hands and knees in order to proceed. Nothing daunted, he 
grasped the lantern in his teeth and fell on all fours. MacAl- 
pine followed his example, blowing like a sea-lion and swearing 
vigorously at this enforced return to the conditions of infancy. 

For nearly fifty yards it seemed fully five hundred to the 
men they continued this uncomfortable means of locomotion, 
the elder gentleman vowing he would turn his back on the 
whole darned business if he only had room in which to turn, 
a remark that only evoked an explosion of unseemly mirth 
from his more agile companion. At length the tunnel veered 
abruptly to the left and our explorers were again enabled to 
stand upright. 

A few more steps and they were in a cave whose gloomy 
recesses showed neither stalagmite nor stalactite, nor ornamen- 
tation of any kind ; it was shaped like an amphitheatre, but 
with high, vaulted roof, through which the light in some inex- 
plicable manner seemed to pierce. It might have been a sar- 
cophagus hewn from the solid rock, so dry and hard were its 
walls ; there was no slightest feeling of moisture in the place, 
no rhythmic murmur of underground streams, nor any sound of 
trickling water, all was arid, solemn, impenetrable. As soon as 
the men grew accustomed to the dusky semi-shadows they be- 
gan to take note of their surroundings. The light penetrated 
through an opening, apparently artificial, in the roof of the 
cave directly above a long, flat slab, unmistakably the sacrificial 
stone of some heathen tribe. 



1899-] A FALLEN IDOL. 485 

Directly in front of this gruesome block was a rude altar 
crowned with a stone idol, hideous enough to make it a valua- 
ble piece of bric-a-brac, should it ever fall into the hands of a 
New York art dealer. The men knew they had discovered an 
Aztec cave of worship, and they could not repress a feeling of 
horror at the thought of the awful human sacrifices immolated 
to the senseless figure who had stood stolid and motionless 
through the lapse of centuries. 

So this was his legacy ! Stewart felt distinctly sold, but 
as he advanced towards the altar, holding his lantern aloft that 
its rays might be focused upon the stone image, a cry of 
astonishment escaped him. The hideous face was literally en- 
crusted with precious stones, its body was inlaid with gold and 
silver beaten into quaint and matchless designs, and from its 
forehead blazed a ruby that would adorn the crown of Monte- 
zuma ! 

MacAlpine vented his astonishment in a prolonged whistle, 
and stretched forth his hand to touch the gems ; but a small, 
flat head with two fiery eyes lifted itself from the idol's neck, 
around which it lay coiled as if graven from the same stone, 
and a hissing, rattling sound caused both men to spring back 
just in time, for the snake rapidly unwound its loathsome folds 
and dropped to the ground. 

Stewart had killed too many rattlesnakes to feel anything 
more than a sensation of supreme disgust, and as the reptile 
advanced he took careful aim and fired. Before the deafening 
reverberations had died away a dozen or more writhing, coiling 
serpents emerged from the recesses of the altar and surrounded 
their dead companion. A glance showed the men that discre- 
tion was the better part of valor, and they beat a retreat, 
rather more hasty than dignified. Once more in the blessed 
light of day they paused to mature their plans. 

" It would be foolish to attempt shooting the things," coun- 
selled the older man ; " there may be legions of them, and a 
rattlesnake bite is too dangerous to take any chances on. How 
in the deuce are we going to get rid of them?" 

" Blow them up with dynamite," suggested Stewart jokingly. 

" The very thing," exclaimed MacAlpine; u but we will have 
to exercise care, else his sacred, bow-legged Divinity will be 
blown up too, and then good-by to your fortune." 

11 Suppose we go back to camp and talk it over. I am as 
dirty as a cave-dweller, and I feel the need of refreshing both 
the outer and inner man without further delav." 



486 A FALLEN IDOL. [Jan., 

" I am with you, my boy ; we can leave your treasure with 
impunity, for it is certainly well guarded. Strange that such 
venomous reptiles should have chosen that altar for their rest- 
ing-place ! It seems symbolic of the horrible rites that have 
been practised there." 

"Indeed it does," responded Stewart thoughtfully, " and 
stranger still, to think of the empires that have flourished and 
fallen, the pages of history that have been written, while that 
relic of barbarism has been left unharmed, the legacy of an 
extinct, nay, almost unknown race." 

The men did not return to the cavern until the next day, 
for Stewart had to ride into town for a fuse long enough to 
reach from the aperture in the roof to the altar underneath. 
They had no great difficulty in finding this orifice, for they 
followed above ground, as nearly as possible, the tunnels of the 
cave which led them direct to the foot of the monolith now 
Christianized as Santa Rita ; and there were evidences that this 
commanding rock had been once used as a post of observation 
whether by the Aztecs or some more modern tribe, the men 
were unable to determine. 

MacAlpine, whose long experience as a miner had made 
him familiar with the various uses of giant powder as a blasting 
agent, thought that a small cartridge could be placed near the 
altar and exploded without serious injury to the idol, which 
they were naturally anxious to secure intact. These explosions 
were to be kept up at regular intervals until the serpents 
decamped. 

" I am quite sure it will succeed ; but you, Stewart, must be 
the one to place the cartridges. I would not crawl through 
that narrow passage again for all the mines in New Mexico, 
The rattlers will not hurt you if you do not molest them. I 
will listen and drop down the fuse when you give the word ; 
after you rejoin me I can light it, and there will be ample time 
for us to get out of harm's way before it reaches the powder." 

Three times the experiment was repeated, after which 
Stewart insisted on a tour of investigation. In spite of his 
previous asseverations MacAlpine girded his loins and prepared 
to accompany him. 

" The curiosity of our common ancestress, Mother Eve," 
quoth he ; but Stewart knew that a more kindly feeling prompted 
the large-hearted Scotchman the desire to be of assistance in 
case of danger. 

This time before approaching too close they carefully ex- 



1899-] A FALLEN IDOL. 487 

amined the altar, but when after repeated proddings and pistol 
shots no ominous rattle was heard, they concluded that the 
serpents had really abandoned their trust. 

Upon lifting the idol, they found underneath the pedestal 
on which it stood a small cavity filled with the most beautiful 
specimens of opals, turquoise, and amethysts, some cut and 
others in the native quartz ; nuggets of gold were also there, 
and rings and bracelets relics of barbaric splendor that would 
now be priceless in the eyes of an antiquarian. 

The men had great difficulty in getting the idol through some 
of the narrow tunnels, but they eventually triumphed and their 
prehistoric relic suffered no further injury than the loss of 
a few jewels, and a chip from his sacred nose. Very little has 
ever been said of this curious legacy, so strangely and roman- 
tically acquired, for both men refused to be interviewed on the 
subject, and soon afterwards Stewart left Silverton for the 
East. 

After disposing most satisfactorily of his uncut stones, his 
first step was to send a check to MacAlpine with the request that 
an appropriate monument should be erected to the memory of 
his benefactor, which goes to show that the sentiment of grati- 
tude is not yet entirely extinct in the human breast. The old 
Scotchman sturdily refused to accept a cent in payment for 
his share in the discovery, but he wears always a handsome 
opal scarf-pin which his friend had mounted with diamonds and 
sent to him as a souvenir of their extraordinary adventure. 

Then Mr. Lionel Stewart returned to the bosom of his 
family, convinced that Horace Greeley's advice had lost much 
of. its applicability since first uttered by that eccentric New 
Hampshire genius, and resolved to try the experiment of be- 
coming a prophet in his own particular division of country. 
We hear that he gives promise of success, and we hear further- 
more that negotiations for the sale of a remarkable Aztec idol 
are pending between him and the directors of one of our 
wealthiest museums. 

Up to this time the transaction has been so carefully 
guarded that it has obtained no newspaper notoriety, but cer- 
tain learned professors state that when the sale is made public 
it will create a furore almost unparalleled among the archaeolo- 
gists arid antiquarians of the present century. 



488 



HATH TIME GROWN OLD? 



TJ an - 




1MB Gl^OWN OLD? 



BY EDWARD F. GARESCHE. 
THE QUESTION. 

| HY paint we Time an ancient man, 
His limbs grown weak and old, 
And in his nerveless hold 
A rusty Talisman ? 

Hath Time grown old ? 



Doth not the Sun his course fulfil : 
The fleeting Seasons follow on, 
From ruddy Spring to Winter wan, 

Unceasing, constant still ? 

Hath Time grown old ? 

One Day is as another Day, 
One Year is as another Year : 
Yet, with the passing of his bier, 

A Man doth fade for aye. 

Hath Time grown old ? 

Unto all things, of earthly brood, 
The Ruling Wisdom hath assigned 
A resurrection, in their kind ; 

Man never is renewed. 

Onward the sequent Ages roll 

Relentless ; though the Hope of youth 
Crumbles to Age, Ambition's tooth 

Still gnawing at the soul. 

Time grows not old ! 

THE ANSWER. 

Peace. Man shall but begin to be 
When, like a crumpled scroll, 
The skies to ruin roll 

When dawns Eternity ! 

When Time grows old ! 







SLOWLY THE CREAMY CLOUDS COME IN FROM THE SEA. : 




A CLOUDY PEARL OF THE PACIFIC. 

BY PHILIP E. NYLANDER. 

ILO was not on the programme neither was the 
shipwreck. But those who go down to the sea 
in ships take chances as well as passage, and 
sometimes undertake side trips which are not 
; provided for in the itinerary. Thus it happened 
that when two days out from Honolulu, with leaks starting, 
pumps breaking, and everything generally demoralized, the 
" A i " steamship City of C - started back on an excit- 
ing race for life, headed for the nearest port, Hilo, Hawaii, 
four hundred miles away. 

Some simple people travel for pleasure, others find in the 
experience an excellent substitute for the penitential pilgrim- 
ages of the past. It. was neither a hilarious nor a pious gath- 
ering which sat about in somewhat strained sociability in the 
main cabin. Listening there to the creaking and groaning of 
the timbers, it would seem that demoniac agencies confined 
within the frame were lashing themselves into madness in their 
efforts to rend the vessel in twain ; until from this mountain 
in labor the frightened rats came forth from the hold to be 
despatched by the ship's cat, which, master of the situation, 



49 



A CLOUDY PEARL OF THE PACIFIC. 



[Jan., 




HONOLULU. 

seemed to think the entire affair gotten up for his own special 
entertainment. 

Some little comfort was derived from a perusal of the ship's 
certificate of registration, which, framed upon the walls, set 
forth in impressive characters the rating of the vessel, "A I " 
for five years from 1898. A drowning man will catch at a 
straw, but this straw was of no value in stopping leaks. Some 




WE REACHED HlLO ON ALL-SOULS DAY." 



1 8 9 9-J 



A CLOUDY PEARL OF THE PACIFIC. 



49 i 



men told stories : How once in a similar predicament, in a storm 
off Cape Horn, a preacher crawled along the forward deck to 
the sailors' quarters, whence, after listening at a crack of light 
in the forecastle, he returned, muttering with satisfaction, 
"Thank heaven, they are still swearing!" Meanwhile the gale 
increased in violence and the ship plunged on in terror, with 
the great seas on the port quarter pursuing her like huge, hun- 




"IT LOOKED ENTRANCIKGLY LOVELY ON THAT BRIGHT NOVEMBER MORNING." 

gry wolves; we meanwhile calmly waiting with the boats pro- 
visioned for immediate launching. 

We reached Hilo on All-Souls day, thankful that our monu- 
ment was not made up of conglomerate wreckage floating in 
the Pacific. So little external evidence of injury was apparent 
that some volunteered to pull over the smoke-stack. The ves- 
sel was inspected and condemned. The owners will be reim- 
bursed by insurance. The patient public, thankful in escape, is 
uncomplaining, and in disaster the old piratical motto holds : 
" Dead men tell no tales." So the farce of inspection goes 
gaily on. 



492 



A CLOUDY PEARL OF THE PACIFIC. 



[Jan., 



It is no wonder that Hilo looked entrancingly lovely on 
that bright November morning. Fairer even than when, in 
1824, it had fascinated the world-worn eyes of Captain Lord 
Byron, who would wed his own name with that of beauty, and 
wrote " Byron's Bay " in fading letters on the British Admiralty 
charts. This is so characteristically English, you know. Like the 
traveller from Albion visiting Salt Lake City, Utah, who, dipping 
his finger into the salt water and from thence putting it into his 
mouth, said gravely, smacking his lips, " It's ours ! " This claim 
is now an American's proud privilege. Hilo is ours! Guarded 
on the south by the gaunt sentinel palms of Cocoanut Island, 
the city rises until the eyes rest upon the background, where 
Mauna-Kea, the long mountain, crouches under its weight of 
snowy years. Along the shore the white sea rolls in upon the 
beach, or dashes against the base of cliffs covered with perpet- 
ual verdure from cool, copious rains. " Hilo is a gem," says 
the guide book. Yes, Hilo is a gem, a little cloudy pearl of 
the Pacific, iridescent with the gleaming aurora of rainbows 
which lean lovingly over it. Slowly the creamy clouds come in 




LAKE OF FIRE, KILAUEA. 



1 8 9 9-] 



A CLOUDY PEARL OF THE PACIFIC. 



493 




THE LAVA-FLOW, COOLING, HAS TAKEN ON MANY FANTASTIC SHAPES. 

from the sea and* gather over the fields of sugar-cane and 
coffee, as if old Mother Nature were making a mammoth break- 
fast-cup- to be brewed in the smoking cauldron of the crater 
of Kilauea. 

The town is cosmopolitan, the upper part being American 
and modern, with fine houses and stores, perfect roads, and 
electricity for light and power. From this point stages start for 
the volcano. Within easy distance are many points of interest. 
A stream of water rising in the mountains comes down in be- 
wildering cascades or leaps a hundred feet in the cavernous 
Rainbow Falls. Not to be outdone in interest, the lava-flow, 
cooling, has taken on many fantastic shapes. 

Near the landing-place on the shore are the anthills of the 
industrious Japanese. These little brown people are fast dis- 
carding their national characteristics, and clothe themselves, as 
they are beginning to clothe their demands for wages, like Euro- 
peans. But on the next day after our arrival the Mikado's 
fiesta was celebrated, and nearly everybody was in gala national 
attire, the children, with painted pink cheeks, looking like ani- 
mated dolls. The celebration took place upon the outskirts of 
the town. Here bands of wandering minstrels marched in 
Pyrrhic measure and graceful gesture before the temporary 



494 



A CLOUDY PEARL OF THE PACIFIC. 



[Jan., 




VOLCANO HOUSE, KILAUEA. 

temple of Buddha. Crowds gathered near by in an enclosure 
set apart for wrestling. Two athletic rivals advanced and faced 
one another before a solemnly garbed referee. Crouched for 
an instant, they sprang and there was a sinuous writhing of 
sinewy figures, like the Laocoon in bronze, then a fall upon 
the soft black earth, at which the statuesque referee waved his 
wooden fan downwards. 




THE BROTHERS' SCHOOL. 



1 899.] 



A CLOUDY PEARL OF THE PACIFIC. 



495 



Many of the Japanese are field laborers, being by their small 
stature and great strength adapted to the severe work in the 
cultivation of sugar. In January the cutting of the cane is be- 
gun. It is then stripped and floated down to the mills in the 
great flumes, which span the gorges like spiders' webs. In these 
mills the maceration process is pursued. Crushed into pulp and 
ground, ninety-nine per cent, of the saccharine matter is ex- 
tracted, while the refuse, dry as chaff, is drawn into the fur- 
naces and burned. The sap, now boiled in vacuum, is crystal- 
lized. Whirled in centrifugal machines, the liquor is expelled, 
and the sugar is dried and shipped away to make the whole 
world sweeter. 

Coffee is said to be in its infancy, but already its precocity 
is apparent, and growers of coffee have no grounds for com- 








THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN HILO. 



496 



A CLOUDY PEARL of THE PACIFIC. 



[Jan., 




WAIMBA RIVER, KAUAI. 

plaint. Fruits, especially bananas, are abundant, and give 
freights to regular lines of steamers to the States. Nature is 
prodigal, and the native needs are easily supplied. " What are 
the most beautiful things you have ever seen ? " asked one of 
the teaching Brothers of a Kanaka pupil, who replied, with the 
logic of a Kanaka or a child : " Poi and fish." These are the 
staples, the fish being often eaten raw and somewhat ripe. Poi 
is the staff of life. The root of the taro, a tuber, is baked and 
ground into meal. It is then kneaded into paste and, slightly 
fermenting, is very wholesome and agreeable, after one can dis- 
associate the dish from bill-poster's paste, eaten with the fingers. 
The stranger is initiated into many strange native dishes at a 
luau, or picnic feast. The guests, as they gather, are garlanded 
with wreathes, called lets, of bright-colored flowers. A wise pro- 
vision brings finger-bowls on first, for fingers are the only im- 
plements for conveying food to the mouth. Some of the dishes 
are fearfully and wonderfully made. A young pig, stuffed with 
hot rocks and covered with aromatic leaves, is baked in the 
ground. There are no requests for " a little more stuffing, 
please." Hospitable to the utmost, the native character ap- 
pears at these festivals happy, careless children, with love of 
good cheer, of music, and of flowers. 

The condition of this gradually disappearing race has been 
influenced, not entirely for the better, by the " evangelical " 



1 899.1 



A CLOUDY PEARL OF THE PACIFIC. 



497 



missionaries of these islands. It would be well for those -who 
are denouncing the good work done by the Catholic missions 
in the Philippines to look to the history of the Protestant 
missions in Hawaii, the principal work of which has been to 
convert the earth to their own inheritance. Encouraged by 
their failure in making anything out of the natives, some of 
these worthies have undertaken to " convert Rome," the leading 
spirit in this benevolent undertaking being that venerable pachy- 
derm, Rev. Dr. Hyde of Honolulu, whose hide was invulnerable 
even to the keen shafts of Robert Louis Stevenson's "Open 
Letter." Little or nothing is accomplished ; the Portuguese, 
who constitute the principal element among the Catholics, are 
faithful. Intellectual pabulum in the way of bigoted literature 
being ineffectual, the flour-sack apostolate has been instituted ; 
but only a few poor, ignorant people take their spiritual leaven 
in a measure of meal. 

Meanwhile the newer element among the Protestants do not 
hesitate to affirm that the good work done on these islands is 
done by the people of Father Damien. These are the Catholic 
priests, under Bishop Gulstan of Honolulu, the order to which 
Father Damien belonged, an order which has other hidden 
Damiens among its members. In Hilo the fine church is 
crowded with devout worshippers, and numerous outlying mis- 
sions are zealously successful. The Catholic schools, well filled, 
contain a number of non-Catholic children. 




ALONG THE SHORE THE WHITE SEA ROLLS IN UPON THE BEACH." 



4Q8 



A CLOUDY PEARL OF THE PACIFIC. 



[Jan., 



I once asked an earnest but somewhat narrow partisan of 
state schools : " Why is it that, if our Catholic schools are so 
very bad, Protestant parents will persist in sending their children 
to them, paying extra for the privilege ? " I have never heard 
the answer to this question. Perhaps it is that our schools are 
the best, after all. There are no leaky crafts in Catholic edu- 
cation, where religious watchfulness follows the sense of the 
importance of the soul's safety. Under such registration, by 
conscientious inspectors, the ship of state will be safe in the 
company of Peter's bark, as it conducts souls safely through 
the voyage of life, and into the harbor of eternity. 




BOILING POTS " OF HILO. 




1899-] DR. PASTOR'S ESTIMATE OF ALEXANDER VI. 499 



DR. PASTOR'S ESTIMATE OF ALEXANDER VI.* 

i 

HE history of the Papacy has been dealt with 
by Germans, Catholic and Protestant, in a man- 
ner which upon the whole may be said to have 
supplied valuable information. Our readers will 
have in mind the Protestant historian Leopold 
Ranke, who, notwithstanding an anti-Catholic bias and a some- 
what unphilosophical subservience to hypotheses, rendered to 
the popes unregarded or calumniated before his time a meas- 
ure of justice halting, indeed, but courageous and unexceptionable 
in its tone and temper. At the first we should be prepared 
for a certain degree of belittling, undervaluing, minimizing the 
work done by the popes when a German took up their history, 
and a readiness to attribute questionable motives as the source 
of action in itself wise, and a sinister policy as the guide of the 
Papacy in its relations with temporal sovereignties in general 
and the German Empire in particular. That is, something of 
prejudice and something of theory affect the German in esti- 
mating the credit due to Italian popes as rulers and in their 
policies, which must have been of necessity Italian rather than 
imperial if the independence of the Holy See were to be 
preserved. 

Nor is this view inconsistent with the opinion we hold of the 
great services rendered by German writers to the church, and 
the fidelity of the German Catholics to our holy faith. The 
scientific conviction formed by Janssen from vast, minute, and 
profound historical research, that Protestantism forced back the 
growing civilization of the world whether he is right or wrong 
displays a noble independence of mind in forming it and the 
truest philosophical boldness in giving to it expression. Very 
interesting and valuable would be the statement and support 
of this authoritative judgment, but we must reserve it for an- 
other occasion, and content ourselves with saying that in Dr. 
Pastor, Janssen left a pupil altogether worthy of him and able to 
accomplish all the master would have desired in putting in a 
proper light the circumstances of the German people at the 

* The History of the Popes from the close of the Middle Ages. Vols. v. and vi. By 
Dr. Louis Pastor, Professor at Innsbruck University. Edited ty Fredeiick Ignatius Antic- 
bus, of the Oratory. New York: Benziger Brothers. 
VOL. LXV1II. 32 



500 DR. PASTOR'S ESTIMATE OF ALEXANDER VI. [Jan., 

time of the Reformation, and at the same time completing and 
correcting Ranke's history. It is said that Pastor combines 
the special excellence of Ranke and that of Janssen. 

In considering Pastor's work one is appalled at the immense 
mass of material consulted ; and yet an able judge tells us that 
when you enter the great pile constructed by him you proceed 
at your ease, unfatigued amid the order and symmetry around 
and above you, and in the fulness of a light which is present 
into whatever part you penetrate. He has ransacked seventy- 
six collections of archives and manuscripts in the Tyrol, 
France, Germany, and Switzerland. He has consulted six hun- 
dred and ninety-nine works, compiled from the fifteenth century 
to our own day, to prepare for his two last volumes covering 
the period from Innocent VIII. to Julius II., namely, nineteen 
years. In using his materials we are assured that our author took 
to himself as an inspiration the motto of Cicero appropriated by 
Leo XIII.: Ne quid Jalsi audiat ; ne quid veri non audiat, which 
may be translated in the epigram of their champion, De Maistre : 
" We owe the truth to the popes, and they want nothing but 
the truth."* That is to say, they are entitled to justice even 
though they are popes, and they need only justice. 

It may be said that in no subject could the candor of a 
Catholic historian be tried so severely as in the life and ponti- 
ficate of Pope Alexander VI. Dr. Pastor shows them in their 
worst colors, and, as if to prepare us for the estimate formed, 
he lays down the propositions, weighty and judicial, " that the 
materials before him are ample to pronounce a judgment on 
the entire subject which should be explicit ; . . . every at- 
tempt to whitewash (de sauver) the memory of Alexander VI. 
will henceforth, he is convinced, be the defence of a desperate 
cause." At the same time it must be allowed that certain charges 
are to be rejected ; notably, criminal relations with Lucretia 
Borgia. She was not, perhaps, free from reproach in her life 
and conversation, but she was far better than one born to rank 
and at the same time to infamy could be expected to have been ; 
she is to be pitied rather than denounced. Caesar, described as 
a type fashioned from wickedness, was nevertheless not respon- 
sible for many of the assassinations attributed to him. This, of 
course, is to show that his proved crimes produced unfounded 
charges rather than that he had been calumniated. But a fair 
inference may be that much of what has been brought against 
Alexander and his children was due to the offence given by the 

* Histoire du pettple allemand depuis la fin du moyen age. 



1899.] DR. PASTOR'S ESTIMATE OF ALEXANDER VI. 501 

sons to so many and such powerful influences in Rome and the 
adjoining states. It is only fair to bear in mind, despite Dr. 
Pastor's stern dictum as to the hopelessness of lightening the 
load on Alexander's memory, that the detestable populace of 
Rome had from the earliest times been the irreverent and un- 
grateful enemies of the popes. Ambassadors and other stran- 
gers would readily enough take the impressions about the popes 
which filtered through the sewers of Roman society from the 
palaces of great nobles down to the rabble that howled their 
hatred after the carriages of cardinals and other dignitaries* 
The great house of Colonna was conspicuous for its disloyalty 
to the Holy See, so much so that for centuries there was hardly 
a scene of violence and outrage on the sacred person of the 
Lord's Vicar in which some Colonna had not been an actor. 
The difference between the demeanor of foreign dignitaries, and 
even Italians from the other states, and the behavior of the high 
Roman nobles was very remarkable. In presence of Alexander 
a Visconti or a Sforza would bend with a profound reverence 
which recognized in his person the supreme majesty of his place, 
while a Roman noble would hide under outward lowliness the 
falsehood which bound him to the interests of Spain or of 
France. There is no explanation of this save the innate treachery 
and greed of the nobility of all ranks. This baseness in the 
noble was called personal ambition, because it aimed at a sort 
of sovereignty over the people. The greed and treachery in the 
people were called a love of change that could not rest in peace 
and in prosperity, any more than it could be happy under the 
fierce and licentious power of the barons. To do the Roman 
masses justice, they hated while they feared those lawless no- 
bles, so long a terror to the sovereign pontiffs and the clergy. 
Nothing would induce them in the long periods of oppression 
to rise against their masters, behind whose backs they gnashed 
their teeth with rage. When a pope of commanding talents for 
statesmanship ascended the throne and reduced the nobles to 
submission, the populace invariably availed themselves of their 
new freedom to insult him and his priests, as in our own time 
they murdered Rossi fo* the crime of having been appointed 
minister at their request. 

The position of the popes at this period was one of diffi- 
culty between rebellious barons resting on the swords of mer- 
cenaries and the most lawless, vindictive, and cowardly common 
people the world had ever seen. At the time of Alexander's 
election the States of the Church were exposed to every danger 



502 DR. PASTOR'S ESTIMATE OF ALEXANDER VI. [Jan., 

from within and without. He was a man of great talent who, 
though very young, had gained some distinction at the bar, a 
career which he abandoned for that of arms. When his uncle. 
Calixtus III., became pope he summoned the young soldier, who 
was already giving promise of greatness in his new profession. 

It is right that the position of the Cardinal-bishop of Albano 
and Porto * should be fairly presented as it was before Rome 
and the world, in order that the Sacred College as a body 
should be acquitted of the aspersions cast upon it owing to 
the charges of simony so freely flung upon some of its mem- 
bers by every Catholic historian from that time to the present. 
It was believed he alone could save the Temporal Sovereignty, 
and events justified the judgment of the cardinals, who con- 
sidered that a soldier rather than a saint was needed at that 
crisis. But what reason was there at this time for supposing 
he was not a man of good life ? He appeared pious and his 
demeanor was grave. He seemed to be charitable, for his 
liberality to the people was profuse. He was fearless and high- 
minded of this there can be no doubt for only the rich and 
powerful ever experienced scorn and harshness from him, while 
in his intercourse with the poor and the middle class he was 
kind and affable. The unstable populace idolized him because 
of his generosity, his graciousness, and the conviction that his 
great talents, boldness, and pride would be a wall between 
them and the cruel license of the nobles. Knowing as we do 
that the latter, when free from control, surpassed what we read 
of the rapacity, fury, and lust of the English barons in the 
reign of Stephen, a good reason, from the human side of papal 
authority, stands out for the election of the only exceptionally 
capable man during that time of darkness and danger, in which 
state and church seemed rushing to the abyss. It does not ap- 
pear that the connection between him and Rosa Vanozza was 
known to more than a few, whose interest was to guard the 
secret. This was how matters stood when the Sacred College 
elected this man of sixty-one years of age, noble, dignified, mag- 
nificent, and marked by talents and training for a foremost 
place in policy and arms. Rome became wild with enthusiasm, 
and declared : 

" Caesare magna fuit nunc Roma est maxima. Sextus Reg- 
nat Alexander. Ille vir, iste Deus!" 

It is quite clear Dr. Pastor could not have access to the au- 

* He was raised to this dignity by Sixtus IV., and not by his uncle. This affords a pre- 
sumption that his character stood well in public. 



1899-] DR. PASTOR'S ESTIMATE OF ALEXANDER VI. 503 

thentic and secret documents in which he says the "infamy"* 
of Alexander's life was hidden if Leo XIII. had not wished it. 
Having said so much, we present that historian's impression : 
that Roderick Borgia, bishop and cardinal before attaining 
the dignity of Sovereign Pontiff, had paraded his vicious life, 
and that never had his unbridled luxury been concealed. It 
was known, we are to understand, in the streets, in the market- 
place and the hovel ; in the fortress, half-palace, half-prison, of 
a Frangipani or a Savelli, an Orsini or a Colonna. It was con- 
cerning these years, we must ask the reader to bear in mind, 
that the shrewd Burgundian minister of Louis XI. wrote : 
Rome would be the happiest city in the world only for the 
Orsini and the Colonna. Now, with this grave remark from 
Philip de Commines, we are inclined to suspect that Dr. Pastor, 
despite his access to the most authoritative and secret docu- 
ments f and his untiring energy and care, has failed to put the 
man and the time before us in their just relation, and that 
therefore he has failed in that impartiality which alone can 
render possible the majestic equity of history. 

It is not so clear to us that Dr. Pastor's judgments on this 
pope will not be revised. The very reason a critic of talent : 
has for affirming that Pastor's estimate is unassailable, namely, 
that he places himself in the period of which he treats, is, in our 
poor opinion, the very reverse of the historian's attitude, at least 
with regard to this particular pontificate. If elsewhere Dr. 
Pastor exhibits the faculty of placing men in historical perspec- 
tive, he must be thought to have made Alexander the sacrifi- 
cial offering of a candor much affected by Catholic writers who 
prostrate themselves before that fetich of modern insolence and 
ignorance called Protestant opinion. William Roscoe, a fair- 
minded Protestant, in his Life and Pontificate of Leo X. insists 
that the charges against Alexander are for the most part 
wholly false or greatly exaggerated ; so does Capefigue, so does 
Chantal, and before them Abbe" Rohrbacher, M. Chere", M. 
Audin, and many more we could mention. Now, all these men 
cannot be blindly mistaken ; it does not affect the point that 
Dr. Pastor has had archives and documents open to him 
unless we have reason to suppose that he alone had access to 
them, or to copies entire or fragmentary of entries of the acts 
of the lawyer, soldier, and cardinal, Roderick Borgia, and his 
acts as Alexander VI. in the eyes of a crowded court. 

*Or rather the "infamous Pontiff," as a French critic calls him. Many English and 
French, indeed, have written of him as " the infamous " " 1'infame." 

f Documents les plus authentiques et les plus sec; ets. \ Vicomte de Meaux. 



504 DR. PASTOR'S ESTIMATE OF ALEXANDER VI. [Jan., 

We fully admit his unreasonable affection for his children 
and the wealth and honors he lavished on them ; but this fam- 
ily affection is said to be a quality of strong, imperious natures. 
What we rather regard in the matter is the violation of his 
vow and the continued relations with the mother of these Bor- 
gias. His bounty to his children was indefensible. It raised 
enemies against him among foreign potentates and Italian no- 
bles. It was displayed to an extent pitiably childish. His 
references to them read like the imbecility of dotage, when they 
are not the expression of a passionate grief. His sorrow at the 
death of one of them, Juan, would remind you of David's la- 
ment over Absalom. In that blow there was a punishment for 
sins and scandals that might have softened even his defamers. 
We have already referred to the hostility of France; those re- 
formers who looked to Savonarola as to a martyr were only too 
happy to gloat over the foul libels of Burchard. Now, Burchard 
was described by a fellow-officer in the papal court in terms 
which may be considered fairly severe,* and we think that among 
the denunciations and inventions in his Diarium not a discovery 
obtained in the researches of Dr. Pastor but may be found. 
Capable men rejected most of them and we beg to do the 
same, while we are ready to concede that Alexander VI. was 
unworthy of the priesthood and his pontificate a disgrace to 
the church. Again we press upon the reader that the majority 
of the Sacred College did not know the man, though it may 
be that they attached more importance to the gifts which 
marked him out for a temporal rather than a spiritual ruler. 

We have not space to say anything about Savonarola at 
one time raised to the skies by his fellow-citizens, at the end 
dragged by them to the funeral pile. Luther, on his part, 
declared that *' his brother was according to the Spirit," and 
the Protestants of Worms in our own day have placed a statu- 
ette of him on the pedestal of Luther's statue among the 
pioneers of the Reformation. No doubt other Protestants who 
seemed disposed to join in similar ecstasies abandoned the 
idea when they learned that the ill-starred monk was in reality 
faithful to Catholic doctrine, but he has their sympathy at 
least in his disobedience. We cannot enter into certain discus- 
sions concerning his relations with the pope, and the view he 

*The compliment paid to this German master of ceremonies is " Non solum non huma- 
nus, sed supra omnes bestias bestialissimus." Roscoe significantly observes that Burchard 
is silent concerning the worst accusations, and he would not be silent if they were current in 
his day. Alexander died an edifying death, and did not die from poison intended for another. 
He had broken in pieces the power of the Roman nobles and was hated in consequence. 



1 899-] THE CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL. 505 

took of his obedience to the latter. Of course Dr. Pastor takes 
the right view of these subjects, but we shall close simply in 
the words of one of the advocates of Savonarola himself words 
charitable enough to serve our purpose without committing us 
to an opinion : " He perished the victim of passions he had 
excited, illusions he had spread, but he died with a pious 
courage which blotted out the faults that had brought about 
his death." * These words are more to the purpose than much 
of the hysterical admiration which astonished us recently from 
Catholic writers, clerical and lay. 




THE CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL 

BY F. X. E. 

EYOND the hills of Galilee 

There rode a cavalier 
Whose sword in mortal enmity 

Smote Christians far and near. 
The newly-shorn he led in shame 

To dungeons dim and old, 
Yet soon the self-same foeman came 

Within the Shepherd's fold; 
For nigh Damascus' portal fell 

A heavenly noontide ray : 
So wonderful and weird its spell, 

His vision paled away. 
And lo! a breath from Calvary 

In plaintive murmur sighed : 
" Why persecutest Me ? 

My Will, 'tis not defied!" 
" O tell me whom Thou art, my Lord 

What will I do?" he said. 
He heard his tender heart adored, 

His soul the shadows fled. 
His yearning spirit cast afar 

The Light of Love divine, 
And found in every Gentile star 

Love's all-approving sign. 

* Vicomte de Meaux. 




THE PARK AT LILY DALE. 




LILY DALE, THE HAUNT OF SPIRITUALISTS. 

AN EXPOSE OF SOME SO-CALLED SPIRIT PHENOMENA. 

BY E. LYELL EARLE. 

'HE writer recently visited Lily Dale, the summer 
home of Spiritualists. He was the accredited 
representative of a New York paper, and his 
object was to investigate the belief and methods 
of Spiritualists. 

In the first he was unsuccessful, as he could find nothing 
definite to pin their faith to ; in the second, he found more 
than sufficient to cast doubt on any doctrine that needed such 
fraudulent methods to give it stability. 

Some of the brightest minds among Spiritualists lectured at 
Lily Dale while the writer visited there. He was a careful 
listener at their discourses, and later on discussed their rambling 
tenets with leading mediums, only to come to the same con- 
clusion that there was no fundamental doctrine in Spiritualism. 
First of all, Spiritualists reject the name Spiritualism as 
savoring too much of asceticism, in the idea of a personal spir- 
itual life led by the believer, in contradistinction to the carnal. 
Secondly, the only point they do agree on is, that all 
around us are spirit forms with whom we may hold immediate 



1899-] LILY DALE, THE HAUNT OF SPIRITUALISTS. 507 

converse, solace ourselves with their company, find guidance in 
their counsels, and courage in the thought of their victory. In 
everything else concerning the nature of these spirits, their 
origin, their destiny, their manner of manifesting themselves, 
all is chaos. 

The fact is, in so far as Spiritualism is a religious belief, 
there is nothing new in it. All religions have believed in the 
existence of a spirit world. The Catholic Church has the 
grandest of all spirit communions, the Communion of Saints. 
What brings Spiritualism forward so prominently as a belief 
is the fact of the so-called " spirit rappings," which Spiritualists 
consider a scientific demonstration of the verity of their belief. 
We all remember how Dr. Brownson's bright, vigorous mind 
was drawn for a time by these supposed spirit phenomena, but 
we also remember how his masterful exposition of their theory 
smote them in the Spirit Rapper. 

Lily Dale, the home of Spiritualists, is indeed one of the 




THE STATION. 

most beautiful spots in beautiful Chautauqua County. Three 
lovely lakes lie peacefully around it ; while the dense forest, 
wherein orgies rivalling pagan excesses are held, belts it from 
the very water's edge. Half a million of people visit it annual- 
ly, most of them to consult the self-constituted mediums be- 
tween earth and spirit life. Fabulous prices are charged for 



5o3 LILY DALE, THE HAUNT OF SPIRITUALISTS. [Jan., 

some of the seances; and spirit tests are multiplied and inten- 
sified in proportion as the material fee is increased and repeated. 

A few words about the various classes of mediums and their 
work will, no doubt, prove interesting. 

Mediums at Lily Dale are classed as Materializing, Ethere- 
alizing, Slate-Writing, and Trumpet Mediums. 

The Materializing Medium is the highest. At his bidding 
spirits stalk forth bodily and hold converse with their friends 
in earth life. Under proper conditions they will allow you to 
shake hands with them, and, if you are amorously inclined, 
even to embrace them. Next in grade of excellence is the 
Etherealizing Medium. These bring the spirit in the semblance 
of a cloud or haze, that rises mysteriously from the floor 
to the height of the spirit it represents. Out of this cloud 
comes the spirit voice to give its message across the borders of 
Shadow Land. The Trumpet Medium heralds the spirit mes- 
sage through a trumpet that floats around the room; In both 
of these cases ventriloquism is known to have played a promi- 
nent part. The Slate-Writing Medium gives you the very 
characters traced by spirit hands. These you may bear away 
with you to ponder them at will and hold as a gruesome 
record from Spirit Land. 

Recently a box of medium's slates was opened at the depot 
near Lily Dale, and a number of writings were found thereon 
written with a chemical preparation which, on certain condi- 
tions of light, became visible. The messages, like the ancient 
oracles, were of a most general nature, and could be applied 
to any "person, place, or thing that can -be known or men- 
tioned." In a recent number of the. Arena a man named 
Graham, who had been with the Bangs Sisters for years as 
their slate-writer, exposed their methods and challenged a reply. 
The Arena placed its columns at the disposal of any one who 
would assume the defence of the mediums, but no champion 
was forthcoming. 

SEANCES. 

Seances, or sittings, may be public or private, just to suit 
the wish and pocket-book of the sitter. Public stances always 
cost $25, frequently $100. The writer was a party in several 
of these public stances recently, and secured flash-light pictures 
of them, which eventually proved the spirits to be material 
indeed. We will explain one sitting fully. This will serve to 
illustrate the others. 



1899.] LILY DALE, THE HAUNT OF SPIRITUALISTS. 



509 




A GRUESOME HOST OF SflRIT ATTENDANTS. 

Dr. Alma, the central figure in the group, is an ultra- 
spiritualist, magnetic healer, reincarnationist, and believer in a 
host of other doctrines weird and fascinating. He wished to 
consult his spirit guides, and secured Mr. and Mrs. Moore, 
mediums, to conduct the stance. Their fee was a hundred 
dollars. He invited a few friends and sceptics to witness the 
materialization. The writer was among these. Mr. Hearn and 
his associate, Dr. Cheney, from whose pen we may soon look 
for an exhaustive treatise on this subject, were ready to make 
flash-lights. 

The sitting was held in a room of fifteen feet square, open- 



510 LILY DALE, THE HAUNT OF SPIRITUALISTS. [Jan., 

ing into a smaller one in the rear. The room was perfectly 
dark. Chairs were arranged around the wall for the invited 
few, most of them extreme Spiritualists. Dr. Alma sat in a 
large chair in the centre near a heavy black curtain, which was 
manipulated by Mrs. Moore, Mr. Moore being under spirit 
control to conjure up the expected manes. 

Some time was spent in the medium getting under " con- 




THE RIVER STYX. 

trol," which was proven when a tall figure in white drapery 
glided into the room, and announced to the audience, in a very 
earthly tone, that Dr. Alma's spirit company would soon ap- 
pear. Scarcely had he retired when four figures came solemnly 
into the room, grouping themselves gracefully around Dr. Alma. 
The tall figure announced that they were Dr. Alma's spirit 
friends, and gave their names as Abraham, Isaac, Mary the 
Mother of Christ, and Mary Magdalen. Ancient indeed and 
great enough to suit even Dr. Alma's vanity ! Just at this mo- 
ment the flash-light was taken and the seance was broken up. 

Another one was held on the following night. Dr. Alma's 
vanity had more sating. Under the control of the medium, 
the three Wise Men of the East came to do him homage, while 
the sun, moon, and stars danced attendance from the black 
cloth behind him. Dr. Alma was delighted at the result. All 
the " Camp " had to listen to the wonderful materialization. 



1899] LILY DALE, THE HAUNT OF SPIRITUALISTS. 




SLATE-WRITING FROM CAPTAIN PEEL. 

The writer, however, was astonished to see men of sense 
attach any importance to manifestations that were the very 
crudest and most bungling. He identified the two women as 
serving-girls in the hotel ; and after several more flash-lights 
left no doubt as to the identity of the supposed spirits, the 
management made a formal investigation, and the Moores were 
compelled to discontinue their sittings. 

SPIRIT PHOTOGRAPHY. 

Another fertile field for fraud is Spirit Photography. Me- 
diums at Lily Dale annually reap a rich harvest of golden 
sheckles from this field. The subject sits for a photograph, and 
on receiving his picture is startled to find one or more spirit 
faces clustered around his head. The medium assures him that 
they are his [spirit guides, and that they materialized at his 



512 LILY DALE, THE HAUNT OF SPIRITUALISTS. [Jan., 

bidding, and left the imprint of their presence on the highly 
sensitive photographic plate. To the believing this is evidence 
of personal development, of giowth along spirit lines, and gen- 
erally opens their hearts and their pocket-books. 

This is the acme of fake! The plates are always prepared, 
or touched up after the exposure. Mr. Hearn, a photographer 
and artist at Lily Dale, but not a medium, has time after time 
prepared plates with vague faces thereon, and used them in 
photographing Spiritualists. He always found that these peo- 
ple saw a striking resemblance to some one of their thousand 
or more friends or relatives, who had passed from earth life to 
spirit land. The sceptical always view these so-called spirit 
phenomena with grave suspicion, while there are others, and 
these the great majority, who are ready to receive even the 
most paradoxical as so many new proofs of the truth of 
Spiritism. 

The following is a case in point between a Mr. Gibson and 
the Bangs Sisters at Lily Dale : Mr. Gibson, who, by the way, 
is a class-leader in the First Presbyterian Church Sunday-school 
in Meadville, went to the Bangs' studio and obtained a crayon 
of his dead daughter under the following conditions: An or- 
dinary canvas stretcher, such as is used for oil paintings, was 
by himself placed upon a sheet tacked to the floor. This was 
covered over with a chenille cloth tacked down on three sides, 
with the loose end immediately in front of where he had seated 
himself upon a chair. No human hand, he avers, touched the 
stretcher until it had lain under its covering two hours, and 
not then until the Bangs' " control " notified them by rapping 
that the picture was completed. When this notice was given 
he drew the canvas from its resting-place, and to his delight 
found the crayon. During the time the invisible hands were at 
work at the portrait, Miss Bangs' " control " was playing various 
pranks with the sitter. Mr. Gibson was struck about the head 
with paper wads, books, and other articles coming from whence 
he knew not. Wads of paper soaked in water struck him in 
the face until the fluid ran down his neck, wet his collar and 
his clothes, and made matters very unpleasant for him. The 
gentleman, however, being a good-natured old man, made no 
complaint against the spirit enjoying himself, and felt rather 
pleased to think that the visitor from the other world was 
being entertained at his expense. 

Mr. Gibson was so overjoyed with his good fortune that he 
wanted every one to share it with him, and accordingly told his 



1899-] LILY DALE, THE HAUNT OF SIURITUALISTS. 513 

story and showed his portrait, which, by the way, cost him 
$25, to hundreds of people. The colored crayon was that of a 
beautiful girl, which, as before stated, he believed was the por- 
trait of his " spirit child," who died young, and who, if she 
had lived, would now be twenty-seven years old. It was not 




ELLIS ISLAND, LILY DALE. 

a picture of the child, however, but of the woman as she 
now is in spirit life. The portrait was that of a handsome, fair- 
haired, blue-eyed woman, whose age would be judged to be 
not more than eighteen years, though the spirit daughter would 
be nine years older had she lived, and represents a female, to 
use Mr. Gibson's expression, " any man might be proud of." 

The matter caused no small amount of discussion. The 
faithful were delighted with the work of the spirits, and con- 
sidered it almost miraculous and indisputable evidence of the 
truth of Spiritualism. Sceptics, however, quietly laughed at 
their credulity and winked the other eye. The so-called fun 
of Miss Bangs' " control " and the mauling Mr. Gibson received 
at his hands were charged to have been for the purpose of 
drawing the gentleman's attention away from the concealed 
canvas, in order that the one containing the picture might be 
substituted for it. The record of the sisters in Chicago, where 
it is charged they were exposed as frauds and had a whole wagon- 
load of paraphernalia to assist them in producing " spirit " 



5f4 LILY DALE, THE HAUNT OF SPIRITUALISTS. [Jan., 

phenomena, was brought up against them to substantiate the 
charge of fraud and legerdemain in this case. Then, too, they 
alleged that at the most crayons of this kind, said to be pro- 
duced with an air-brush, can be purchased at wholesale at five 
dollars each. 

Looking at the private life of mediums, male or female, 
there is very little from a moral stand-point to inspire one with 
confidence in the doctrine they profess. 

Thoughtless and flippant writers, seeking to bolster up a 
tottering system, have gone so far as to declare that the saints 
of the Catholic Church, and even Christ himself, were nothing 
-else but highly developed mediums. One thing, however, is 
certain, their private life was a living commentary on their 
belief. Their wonderful powers were never used for personal 
aggrandizement ; all their efforts were exerted toward the 
physical and moral betterment of the race. 

With mediums the opposite is true. Spiritual powers, so- 
called, are evoked and exercised in proportion to the material 
inducement offered the medium. Their object is generally to 
satisfy the morbid curiosity of the persons consulting, frequently 
to aid them in avoiding obligations of duty or in compassing 
ends not sanctioned by the moral law. 

The relations existing between medium and subject are 
always peculiar. All the conventionalities of life are swept 
away. There is no moral or legal supervision here. The 
medium is his own supreme judge, and the frequent suits for 
fraud and grosser improprieties are patent proofs of the want 
of moral rectitude in mediums. Then, too, the idea that they 
are possessed by a real or imaginary spirit " control " domi- 
nates them like a high-grade stimulant, and in periods of re- 
laxation recourse is too often had to artificial stimulation to a 
most disastrous degree. 

Not all believers in Spiritism are thus morally delinquent. 
On the contrary, the writer knows estimable men and women 
who are believers in this vague system, and, in the absence of 
better head and heart nutriment, find or seem to find hope and 
consolation therein. 

The facts connected with the phenomena of clairvoyance 
are so strange and far-meaning that a thorough investigation 
of them would no doubt be of great interest. 

After the most careful investigation of Lily Dale from an 
impartial view point, we can unhesitatingly declare that there 
are no phenomena witnessed there which cannot be explained 






1899-] LILY DALE, THE HAUNT OF SPIRITUALISTS. 515 




DR. DEAN'S SPIRIT FRIENDS. 

or produced by purely natural means. And yet, in view of this 
fact, is it not strange that men and women in life and business 
affairs the most shrewd and sceptical are here the most credu- 
lous and confiding? The most preposterous claims of unscrupu- 
lous mediums are accepted with blind belief. Men who rail and 
rant at the doctrines of a church sanctioned by centuries of 
wondrous deeds, receive as infallible truth and as manifestations 
of spirit life the word and work of men and women who, 
aside from their bold assumptions, are the most ordinary and 
material of mortals. Truly this is a marvel hard to understand. 
If these people would investigate the claims of the ancient 
church, and the spirit phenomena therein manifested, they 
would find little to satisfy them in the empty assumptions of 
Spiritism. 

VOL. LXVIII. 33 




516 SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. [Jan., 



SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. 

BY JULIA STEDMAN. 

OW often one little corner of a canvas, one cir- 
cumstance in a life's era, clings to the memory 
and colors or characterizes the whole. I never 
hear the name Sheridan that my mind does not 
at once revert to a dear, roomy old house in 
the city of Baltimore, a house with many delightful nooks and 
corners, with inimitable lawns, a park of majestic old trees, one 
glorious magnolia and several linden-trees ; but notably and 
here is my corner a nursery ! such a nursery as I never saw 
before, have never seen since. It reached quite across one side 
of the house, and a fire-place of generous expanse glorified one 
end of it. Linden-trees peeped in at the windows and tapped 
upon them on windy nights. But they did not disturb the little 
sleepers within, hushed into slumber by the low, melodious hum 
that issued from the rocking chair directly in front of the fender. 
Old Susan, helmsman of the rocker and autocrat of this domain, 
was a slim, delicately built mulatto, with lines of every kind 
chasing across her face lines of care, lines of humor, and lines 
of firmness; the latter somewhat predominating, one of those 
frail-looking but wiry, strong-willed people, whose influence is 
far-reaching and whose energy untiring. Four years ago her 
mistress, who had been for many long months a bed-ridden 
patient, took a sudden turn about four o'clock in the afternoon, 
and, before doctor, priest, or husband could be summoned, 
folded her waxen hands and closed her tired eyes, to open them 
no more. " Susan," she had whispered, as her fingers clasped 
the shaking hand of the nurse, " take care of my two darlings, 
and keep them with you as long as you can. Help them to be 
good, strong Catholics. Tell Frank this is my dying wish ; he 
will see to it." A few fervently labored aspirations and all was 
over. This was four years ago, when Josephine was but twelve 
years old, her brother Harry barely four. The two elder sis- 
ters, Helen and Isabel, and a brother, who had joined his 
father's law firm a few months before, were almost strangers to 
Josephine, who had clung with persevering affection to her 
home in the nursery, and to Susan, who had proved herself a 
loving and efficient guardian. 



1899-] SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. 517 

Frank Sheridan's sister Dorothy, who promptly and gen- 
erously installed herself as hostess at Sheridan Place, upon the 
death of her brother's wife, was not exactly old, nor was she 
nervous, or cross, or unduly fond of the feline race. Her cap 
with its pretty strings and bows fluttered quite becomingly upon 
her rich brown hair, and she wore a placid, comfortable look 
seldom accredited to old maids. She had a certain worldly 
presence, too, that made her quite acceptable to her elder 
nieces. But our old friend, Susan, judged her with merciless 
severity. 

" Honeys," she said, addressing her two charges, " that wo- 
man doan touch one hair o' yo' heads." 

Susan always meant what she said. She had not only con- 
fidence in her own powers, but the priceless faculty of inspiring 
others with the same, which is the gift of gifts. Susan was 
something of a surprise, and not a little fun or annoyance to 
Aunt Dorothy, who had not reckoned upon so formidable a 
rival of her authority. Fortunately, she had the good sense, 
and the better grace, to conceal her feelings. She was quite 
secure with the other members of the family, was a capital 
entertainer, knew exactly what was most becoming to the style 
of beauty of which each fair niece was a type, more or less 
perfect; and she swallowed down most religiously the rising 
yawn when her brother brought out the chessmen, although 
they meant for her an hour of total self-immolation. 

What did it matter if that stiff little colored woman and 
her charges held her at bay ? It spared her many a care when 
she came to think of it, though she pitied the victims of this 
despotism. 

One cold November day, when a good poking and resettling 
of the logs that rested on the nursery andirons sent a volume 
of bright sparks flying up the chimney, Susan sat alone in the 
growing darkness, turning the heel of a stocking "by heart," 
as she would say, if asked how she followed her stitches with- 
out seeing them. Josephine had not returned from school, and 
the low hum of voices from the rooms below was all that 
broke the stillness. Susan seldom dozed, as old women often 
do, and to-night she was far from it. 

" Gettin' mighty dark," she said. " High time Miss Jo was 
home. Her par '11 be ringing fo' her 'fore I knows whar I am. 
Here, whar 's my shawl ? I ain't gwine t' answer fer dat chile 
bein' away at dinner-time. Bless me! sho' nuff, here she come,'" 
as a bright face showed itself at the door. "-Yes, Miss Honey. 



518 SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. [Jan., 

Susan's here all right. My! but you 's good an' late. I'll jess 
light de gas and get you right ready, or dinner '11 be on 'fore 
you knows it. Ne' mine, Miss Honey," she said as Josephine 
began to explain, " dat 's all right. I s'pose it was calsifanick 
day. My ! but yo' han's is cold. There goes dat bell ! I jess 
tho't so. Now, yo' par done tol' me say, miss, you must put 
on some color to-day. He won't stan' it no longer; it's 
'notions,' an' 'my doin's,' an all dat, so it kain't be help. I 
guess Miss Dorothy back o' all dat, but she kain't go much 
fu'ther. Here, Miss Jo, jess dis blue sash, an' dis blue ribbon 
on yo' hair. My ! but yo' cheeks is rosy t'-night, miss. The 
young missuses' beaux '11 be all lookin' yo' way sho." 

" Do you think father will let me up early to-night, Aunt 
Sue? I've brought a book from the convent library, and I 
want so much to read it up here." 

" Well, mebbe he will, an* mebbe he won't ; time '11 tell," 
was the non-committal form of reply which Susan loved to 
employ. But she leaned over the banister, and loudly whispered 
down between her hands : *' Miss Jo, I dun clean fo'got to tell 
you, Marse Har'd corned home with yo' brother t'-night. I 
guess you won't be thinkin' much o' that book." 

Susan was right. It was well-nigh nine o'clock before 
Josephine joined her nurse again. Then she gave the old 
woman a start, for every one of her long prayers being said, 
and all other matters disposed of, she had given herself over to 
a spell of forgetfulness. 

"Well, I d'clar', honey, you dun skeered the heart right out 
o' me. I was right about that book, wasn't I, Miss Jo ? " 

" Oh, yes, of course you were, Aunt Sue ; you are always 
right. Don't you know," she said gaily, " when you say a 
thing is so it is so, even if it isn't so ? " Then stretching her- 
self at full length upon the rug at her feet, and looking full 
into the old woman's face, she said : " Aunt Sue, have you 
seen Howard yet ? " 

" Well yes, honey ; I saw him through the windy comin' 
along with yo' brother. My ! but ain't he growed a comely 
gemmen? " 

" Yes, but didn't he come up to see you?" 

"Well no, Miss Honey; it seems lak he gettin' p'tickler 
'bout comin' roun' here since you 's growed up. I spose it's 
jess proper manners, an* then he knowed, o' co'se, that Marse 
Harry was away." 

" How thoughtless of him, when he 's been away a whole 



1899-] SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. 519 

year. He didn't forget to ask all about you anyhow, Aunt 
Sue." 

" Ne' mine, Miss Honey ; it's jess some notion or yuther. 
He '11 be here pretty nearly every night, and I '11 see him sho' 
some time." 

" Did my mother know Howard, Aunt Sue?" 

" To be sho' she did then. She love him like her own son. 
Your par an' his was great frens in de ole days, an* your par 
wanted Marse Har'd to jine his law business some day ; but 
young marse he had a kind o' leanin' to'rds doctor wuk, an' 
so he came to Baltimore an' sot right to wuk at it. Isn't that 
why he run off to Yurrup las' year, honey ? Dey say folks 
gets lots o' sperience in them hospitals over thar, and Marse 
Har'd he mighty cl'ar brain. I spec he monstrous knowledg- 
able by dis time. Why dis day las' week he jess turned his 
twenty-fo'th year. Youth, an' looks, an' brains makes fine full 
sails, Miss Honey ; but po' young marse, he one o' them real 
stiff Protestan's. I'm feared there's no movin* him in the right 
way whutever." 

Josephine suddenly raised herself into a sitting position, and 
her face wore a startled expression as she exclaimed, " What ! 
isn't Howard a Catholic?" 

" Bless yo' soul, no, honey. He her'tic to de backbone. 
His mar an' par bofe died 'piscopalians, an' he got a big likin' 
fo' his own 'ligion. Not bein' tight-laced nor nothin/ but he 
mighty stuck in Protestan' ways, I tell you." 

Josephine looked long and earnestly into the fire, and then, 
rising with a weary air, said half to herself : " Poor Howard ! 
he must be a Catholic or he won't be saved." 

" Oh no. Miss Honey, don' say dat. Father Hendrick say he 
in good faith, an' der ain't an uprighter young gemman in all 
Baltimore than Marse Har'd. I ain't knowed him these three 
years for nuthin', an' I echoes them wuds loud an' strong." 

Josephine little knew, as she got herself ready for bed and 
knelt to pray, with her head buried in the cushion of the 
rocker, that she was forming the subject of much conversation 
below stairs. She was a girl whose thoughts seldom dwelt 
upon self. A dear, bright child with genuine affections and 
no guile, she was upright and straightforward almost to blunt- 
ness. Her judgment was far beyond her years, and people were 
wrong in thinking that she acted generally under the influence 
of her old nurse. True, she imbibed many of her principles, 



520 SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. [Jan., 

yet not before they were weighed in her own scales and found 
worthy. 

These were hardly, however, the points under discussion 
below. It had been remarked by Howard Radcliffe, upon his 
rejoining the family group, of which Aunt Dorothy was the 
central figure, that Josephine had not only grown in stature 
but in beauty since his trip to Europe. A very unfortunate 
and unwise remark, had he reflected upon it, and upon which 
followed a lively discussion of her exterior merits. Little did 
he dream that Aunt Dorothy had portioned him off, without 
so much as considering his own voice in the matter, to the fair 
Isabel. 

Here was Helen, thought she, about to make a brilliant 
match. With an atheist, it is true; but what did that matter? 
He was a man of great prestige and greater bank credit. Isa- 
bel did not seem to take well in society, and although Aunt 
Dorothy could have desired something better, Howard Radcliffe 
would have to do. His youth was a small obstacle and easily 
surmounted, she thought. No one need know that Isabel was 
ten years his senior. She certainly did not look it. As for 
her father, he was too much engrossed in his law-cases and 
money-making to give heed to these details, and what was 
Aunt Dorothy good for, if not to arrange and promote affairs 
of this interesting nature ? A few hours ago she would have 
given a laugh of genuine mirth at the very idea of that old- 
fashioned Josephine offering anything in the light of an obsta- 
cle. She laughed now, but a laugh with a queer discordant 
ring in it, which happily produced no jar upon Howard Rad- 
cliffe's ear. 

Howard's powers were by no means unlimited. He could 
diagnose a complicated medical case, or he thought he could, 
which is the greater half of diagnosis ; but he pronounced 
upon Aunt Dorothy's smile at its first symptoms, and that 
favorably. 

Mr. Lowell says : 

" Daily, with souls that cringe and plot, 
We Sinais climb and know it not." 

Worldly wisdom, but not a very wise wisdom, prompted 
Aunt Dorothy to confer with Susan one morning about her 
protegee. It was a kind, motherly warning, of course, and it 
cost the old woman some serious meditating before she could 



1899-] SUSAN BROWN', AUTOCRAT. 521 

label it " counterfeit." Only yesterday Susan had taken some 
little alarm on her account, and from her reasonings had 
evolved this solemn oath : " Miss Jo' ain't gwine to marry no 
Protestan' ef I kin help. Nigh a whole fambly of col' Catho- 
lics is plenty an' mor'n enuff fo' me. Spec I'se gwine to let 
Miss Jo go lak Miss Helen and Isabel's goin'? Givin* up their 
faith as easy as they would their ole shoes, all for some man 
or yuther, an' then p'raps not gettin' him ? Not I. Ole Missus 
she say ' Tak' kyar my chile,' an* I'se gwine to tak' kyar. I 
guess it mighty high time I was seeing 'bout it, too. Dat 
pretty flush on Miss Jo's face whenever she ben to de pa'lor 
ain't for nuthin'." 

The only thing that remained now was a discussion of ways 
and means. But the ways Aunt Sue chose would be straight, 
clear-cut ways, and the means gentle and sweet, for her affec- 
tions were deep and strong, and Howard, no less than Jo- 
sephine, came in for a goodly share of the same. 

Here came Aunt Dorothy's warning : " Josephine was really 
a little too familiar in her manner towards Mr. Radcliffe ; all 
very well when they were children, etc., etc. After all, she was 
a growing girl, studying much, and exercising a good deal on her 
way to and from school. She really should not be obliged 
to wait until evening for her dinner. Much better if she could 
dine alone, and take a light tea in the breakfast-room at six 
or seven." 

" Monstrous p'tickler all 't once," soliloquized the old auto- 
crat. " I guess Miss Is'bel got her finger in dat pie, h'm. 'Too 
fermiliar ' ; what else 'd she be, po' honey ? Marse Har'd's wuth 
the whole kit o' them. I wouldn't wonder ef he would think 
about marryin' some o' these days, an' mighty po' taste too, 
ef he chose one o' them worl'y critters, with thar haids full o' 
fashions an* theatres an' beaux, in place o' my lily-o'-the-val- 
ley with the light o' God an* innocence shinin' through her 
eyes. I'll take that warnin' fo' what 's wuth. Co'se, I'll keep 
Miss Jo up-stairs fer all she '11 care, but I s'picion it '11 make 
Marse Har'd all the more sot on seein' her. That 's way with 
love, I hears mo' you try to smother mo' it burn." 

So Jo took an early dinner an' a lonely tea, and all was 
artfully explained to her father, as being her own desire and 
according to Susan's advice. 

Howard did not put in an appearance that night, because, 
although pressed to occupy his place daily at the Sheridan 
table, he feared becoming a too frequent guest. But two nights 



522 SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. [J an -> 

after he came, and well, any one with a grain of observation 
could detect the shadow that spread over his face at the sight 
of Josephine's empty chair. He did not hesitate to inquire in- 
to the cause, and he got the answer prepared for him, which 
was that given to Mr. Sheridan some days before. 

I am afraid he deviated some little from the line of truth 
when he alleged press of study that evening as a cause for 
absenting himself a little earlier than usual. He was young. 
Let us absolve him. 

Some mornings after this, on his way to business, he met 
Josephine going to school, and carried her b'ooks four blocks 
out of his way. Somehow, business did not press so heavily 
this morning. I believe that with very slight pretext he would, 
have carried them four blocks more. 

"Will you be down-stairs this evening, Jo?" he said as 
they neared the convent gate. 

"Why no, Howard; it will be a large party, lots of grown- 
up people and dancing. I am not even going to sleep at 
home to-night, as Sister Theodosia wants me to stay here and 
practice this evening for our concert next week." 

" Oh ! " he returned and what other feelings he had on the 
point expressed themselves from the toe of his boot, which sent 
a small rock spinning across the road with a rapidity and 
directness well-nigh marvellous. It never occurred to the poor 
fellow to invent an excuse for absenting himself from the 
Sheridan function for that evening, but he expended a good 
deal of precious energy in abusing fate. 

Howard was unconscious of anything more than a natural 
sympathy for Josephine. But love is a plant that can spring 
from the sod in a single night. Poor Howard ! his was a sad 
case. All the more so, that he did not see the web that was 
being woven around him. 

He donned a brave smile and went to the party. People 
said he was " charming," " so clever," " so handsome," so every- 
thing. They might have added " so miserable," and struck 
home more nearly. 

"Is it true," said one, "that he is engaged to Isabel?" 

" Perfectly," said another. " I have it from the best au- 
thority. You know they have known each other from child- 
hood, and don't you see him with her everywhere." 

" Sh-sh," said another who had overheard these remarks. 
" Don't, for goodness' sake, circulate that report. My brother 
congratulated him a few minutes ago and he denied it hotly." 






1899-] SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. 523 

" Well, that's very odd. I'm sure I got it from a reliable 
source." 

During this dialogue the young man under discussion was 
lying at full length on the rug in front of Aunt Sue's rocker, 
whither he had fled when the music and dancing were at their 
height and his endurance was showing signs of wear. 

Timidly he had knocked at the door, whose knob he had so 
often turned without any such formality. 

"May I come in, Aunt Sue?" 

" Is that you, Marse Har'd ? Why co'se, honey. Whut ! you 
not dancin' to-night ? " 

" Yes, Aunt Sue ; but I'm tired and don't feel very well." 

" Well, yo' swally-tail '11 look wuss 'n you feels ef you lies 
on it like dat, honey. Here, sit up in dis cheer. I spec you 
miss Miss Jo, Marse Har'd, do' she never yet went to one o' 
them jamborees." 

" It takes you to come right to the point, Aunt Sue, and 
touch the sore spot. Yes, I do miss her. I miss her more 
every day. Does she miss me when I am away?" 

" She never say so, else I disremember," replied the cunning 
old lady. 

" No, I suppose she does not ; she has plenty of other things 
to think of." 

" Doan be too sho', Marse Har'd ; you two 's allus ben gre't 
chums, an' somehow 'r other I reckon she did miss you. She 
looked mighty lonesome some days." 

" Oh, say, Aunt Sue, were you ever in love ? " 

" Laws, chile, what a question ! Never ! Dat is 's fur back 
as I kin remember. All dat nonsense went clean out o' my 
head when I was a little gal. Now see here, Marse Har'd, doan 
you sot yo' heart on Miss Jo, less you 'tends to get baptized 
and jine the true chu'ch. I 'sponsible for dat chile, an' she 
doan' go marryin' no Protestan' ! " 

" Now, Aunt Sue, don't say such a thing. What 's the dif- 
ference between Protestant and Catholic ? There are more roads 
to heaven than one." 

"I ain't sayin' thar is, an' I ain't sayin' thar isn't, but she 
doan marry no Protestan'." 

" But, aunty, I wouldn't interfere with Jo. She could do just 
what she liked." 

" Yes, mebbe so ; she gwine one way, an' you gwine t'other 
nice goin's on they 'd be. Ef she can do as she lak, Marse 
Har'd, let her do it now an' make you a Catholic. An' sence 



524 SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. [Jan., 

you seem a little sot on havin* her which you kain't have fo' 
long time, o' co'se s'pose you jess shows yo' love by changin' 
yo' 'ligion." 

" That's something to think about, Aunt Sue. Wouldn't it 
be wrong in me to change my religion for such a motive ? 
Would I be a good Catholic if I did ? " 

" No, indeed, honey ; indeedy, no ! I was jess provin' you. 
You 's a good Protestan' anyways, an' that 's better than a loose 
one, an' you '11 be a Catholic some day sho', and a good one, 
too, bless yo' heart! Now, run 'long, honey; dar'll be a search 
wa'ant out after you 'fore long." 

" They '11 think I've disappeared by magic, won't they ? " 

" They will, indeed, Marse Har'd ; an' listen hyar, honey," 
she added, lowering her voice, " what you s'pose dey '11 say ef 
dey hears you been up hyar ? " 

" Why nothing ! What could they say ? " 

"Co'se, to be sho'; dey knows Miss Honey ain't hyar." 

" What difference would that make to them? Many a 
time I have spent an evening up here with Jo, and nothing was 
said." 

" Mebbe so, honey, but dey 's scentin' out evil these days. 
Doan yo' notice Miss Jo doan go down to dinner no 
more ? " 

" I should think I did ; but I blamed you for that. You 
don't mean to say " and a vista seemed to be unfolding be- 
fore him. ' I say, Aunt Sue, tell me honestly, do they object 
to my liking Jo ? " 

" Honey, they don't think you does ; they only fears it, and 
they are boun' to put a stop to it somehow. Miss Dorothy 
didn't say so in words, but I kin read her lak a book. Dat 's 
her meanin' sho'." 

Whereupon the door opened and in walked Miss Dorothy in 
flesh and blood, with a good proportion of the latter in her 
face as she gasped out with scanty breath : " Howard, can this 
be you ? How very odd of you ! They are searching the house 
for you. You are to lead the german with Isabel. They have 
voted you in. Come along, you naughty boy." 

During the ensuing few weeks our young friends saw each 
other very seldom. What was proper for Howard once was so 
no more, and it rested altogether with Josephine whether they 
should meet or not. Howard wondered if she was indifferent 
as she seemed, because she never made the effort he thought 
she might make if she cared for him, even if she had that 



1899-] SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. 525 

feeling of dependence upon his advice and assistance that she 
once had. 

Such thoughts as these were promptly dispelled, however, at 
the very first glimpse of her, and the candid smile which breathed 
an immortal soul into her salutation. 

Howard had not entered the nursery since the evening of 
the german, and a faint blush when he met Josephine on the 
day following that event proved that he did not know Aunt 
Susan well enough yet to feel that his secret was safe. Indeed 
I doubt if he really desired secrecy on her part. 

Whether Josephine suspected anything from Susan's urgent 
appeal to her for prayers that " Marse Har'd " might be con- 
verted, I cannot say, for Josephine knew how to keep her own 
counsel as well as her nurse. But she promised to use her in- 
fluence, after making a novena to St. Joseph, her patron and 
best-beloved saint. 

"Aunt Sue," she said, "you know Howard is very learned, 
and there are many things I cannot explain to him if he asks 
me." 

" Dat 's all right, honey ; send him 'long to me. I knows a 
heap of par'bles an' catechism ; an' ef I won't do, send him to 
Father Hendrick and he '11 fix him up to las' for ever." . 

So Josephine spent the remainder of that day, and much of 
the following night, composing a sermon of an eloquence and 
persuasiveness calculated to move a heart of stone. She thought 
it best to attack his heart rather than his reason, having had 
some little experience of the former's goodness. Who can 
doubt her penetration here ? She had not, however, all the 
time she could have desired to clip and prune and ornament 
her sermon, because her catechumen rushed in the house next 
morning with a telegram which summoned him to Philadelphia 
to look after the sale of some family property there. Aunt 
Sue heard the news first and communicated it promptly to Jo- 
sephine, who was getting ready for school. 

" Now doan you take on, Miss Honey. I reckon he '11 be 
back 'fore you gets through that book, and then yo' novena '11 
be ended sho ! " 

Aunt Sue had read a look of mute anguish in Josephine's 
face as she laid down her book and stood looking out the win- 
dow. This it was which elicited the remark from her. 

" Oh, yes, I am sure he will ; it's only that " and Jo- 
sephine coughed a little, " anyway Harry will be home soon ; 
we will hardly know him, will we, Aunt Sue?" 



526 SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. [Jan., 

A knock at the door postponed the reply and gave Josephine 
that peculiar start which is generally provoked by a keenly 
looked-for arrival. 

"How do you do, Aunt Sue?" said Howard, with marked 
effort to speak manfully and steadily. 

"You have heard the news, I suppose. Jo?" 

"Yes, Howard, Susan has just told me; it is too bad, and 
so dreadfully sudden too, and you were away all last year. 
How long will you stay in Philadelphia ? " 

"That I can't say, Jo. Every day will feel like a year to 
me, I know." 

Josephine clearly read the meaning beneath these words, 
yet she neither blushed nor looked conscious. 

" Can we do anything for you, Howard ? " 

" Yes, Jo, you can, " he said hesitatingly. " I have a patient 
on my hands that I can't get rid of. I want you to prescribe 
something to keep him quiet." 

Dear old Susan here remembered that she had something 
very pressing to attend to down-stairs, so down she went, say- 
ing a Hail Mary on each step, and concocting a plan to clear 
the coast for her two charges, who had " plenty of business to 
settle an' might as well have it good an' over." Aunt Dorothy 
and the sisters were to have a drive that morning ; couldn't she 
hasten the coachman a little ? Anything to get them out of 
the way. Yes, she could and she did. There was not a 
domestic in or out of the house who did not consider her word 
as law. 

" A patient ? " repeated Josephine. 

" Yes, a dreadful one. I'm afraid there's no such thing as 
curing him, but you might alleviate his pains a little, if you 
cared to." 

" What do you mean, Howard ? I don't know anything 
about medicines." 

" Perhaps not, Jo ; but a kind heart goes a long way, you 
know. Suppose you had an infallible remedy in your posses- 
sion and all you had to do was to hand it over, would you 
refuse ? " 

" Howard, you never spoke like that before. How can I 
understand you ? " 

" Well, Jo, I am the patient and my disease is a mortal 
affection of the heart. Have you any pity for me ? " 

This time her eyes did drop, and she blushed too. She 
needed no further explanation. Light, and almost jesting, as 



1899-] SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. 527 

his words were and carefully prepared, perhaps there was an 
undertone of deep earnestness which was not lost upon her, 
and the rest she read in the candid language of his eyes. She 
had never before dissembled in her intercourse with him ; why 
should she do so now? Yet what was she to say? Oh! if 
Aunt Susan would only come up and relieve her embarrass- 
ment. But no ; the old clock kept ticking off the seconds with 
monotonous and hopeless regularity, yet no Aunt Sue. Howard 
must break the silence again. 

" Jo, aren't you just a little bit sorry that I am going away ? " 
Still no reply. " I shall be miserable without you, Jo ; don't 
you care just a little?" 

How the poor child longed to say she cared the whole 
world ; yet how could she so lightly disregard Aunt Sue's warn- 
ing ? And wouldn't that be " taking on " ? something she had 
given her word not to do. So she tempered her words with 
discretion, even if the tremor in her voice betrayed her. 
" Don't ask me that again, Howard ; you know I will miss you 
more than any one you have been so good to me." 

Was this a good time, she asked herself, to bring in any- 
thing about his conversion ? Oh, no ! came the reply ; after the 
novena 's the time. Overhaste might spoil all, and conversion is 
a work of grace. Poor little Josephine ! She had thought to 
attack his heart first, and here he was attacking hers in a very 
defenceless quarter. 

"Well, Jo, dear, would you mind if I never came back?" 

" Haven't I told you I would, Howard ? " she said as the 
tears appeared in spite of her brave efforts not to " take on." 

" Forgive me, Jo ; I am too exacting, but there is so much 
at stake and oh ! say, Jo, this is so awfully sudden. I wish I 
wasn't obliged to go. If I only thought that some day this 
money that I am going to look up would be yours as well as 
mine I mean that we'd share everything in common some 
day I believe I'd charter a flyer to get there before any train 
is due, and wouldn't I be the happiest fellow in the world ? " 

" Don't say any more, Howard. I understand you ; but I 
don't want to give you pain, and if I answer you I must do so." 

" Give me all the pain you know how to inflict ; I am as 
brave as a Spartan, Jo ; but don't let me go away without a 
word. I might never return. Say now, Jo, you do l-like me 
I can see you do ; and Jo, I love the very ground you walk on." 

" O Howard ! don't. There is something which must, must 
come between us unless unless " 



528 SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. [Jan., 

" Unless what, dearest ? " 

" Unless my prayers are answered." 

" It is because I am not a Catholic, isn't it, Jo ? Just as if 
that would make any difference." 

" It would make this difference, Howard : that I can never 
answer your question to please you to please us both if you 
remain a Protestant." 

" Is that all that lies between us, dearest ? " he said as he 
grasped at the hand which lay upon the arm of the rocker. 

" That is all, Howard." 

What demonstration he might have made here was cut 
short by the opening of a door in the adjoining room, followed 
by Aunt Sue's low chuckle. " Dat's de riches' yet," she said ; 
" dere goes Miss Dorothy an' de young leddies to see you off, 
Marse Har'd. I heered 'em say in as how you 's gone 'long 
ago. Well, ef yous ain't de wust, lettin' dis fire go plumb 
out 'fore yo' eyes ! Here, Miss Honey, yo' eyes is shinin* like 
coals; jess look hyar an* kindle dis up again." 

" Aunt Sue, Miss Jo and I don't need a wood fire to-day." 

" Indeedy no ; I sees dat mighty plain ! Ef you 's gwine to 
ketch de five-forty train, Marse Har'd, I guess you 'd better 
hustle. Here 's a bit o* de bes' lunch dis hyar house kin fu'nish 
an* an ole woman's blessin' frone in." 

" Thank you, dear Aunt Sue. Yes, I'm right off now. Make 
Miss Jo write to me, and I'll bring you a bandanna that will 
make the town stare." 

With these parting words and a long, silent hand-clasp with 
Josephine he left. Josephine watched him until she could see 
him no longer, and then, leaning her head upon the shoulder of 
her old nurse, she burst into tears, telling her, when calm, the 
story of her interview, and adding sentiments of her own which 
would have made Howard Radcliffe well-nigh delirious with 



" Is that you, Father Hendrick?" he said, as a cordial greet- 
ing interrupted his passage through the first coach. " How 
fortunate ! Are you going to Philadelphia ? " 

"Well no, Howard, I'm not; but I shall stop very near 
there. My mother lives in a small village a few miles from 
the city, and I am going to spend a week or so with her." 

" How glad she will be to see you ! May I have the honor 
of sharing your seat ? Thank you." 

During the journey Howard discussed the object of his 



1899-] SUSAN BRO WN, A UTOCRA T. 529 

trip, the outlook in his profession, and one thing leading to 
another, he touched upon that one of his hopes whose impor- 
tance obscured for the time being everything else. How it 
relieved and comforted him to talk his mind and heart out to 
this holy man Josephine's confessor too, as he very well knew. 
At last the keynote of religion was struck, and long and earn- 
estly they talked, the priest using no persuasions beyond those 
which clear logical reason and bare truth provided, and Howard 
employing neither guile nor artifice in defending his views. 

They parted for the night with a warm hand-shake of fare- 
well, as the priest, who would arrive at his destination in an 
hour or two, did not intend taking a sleeper. 

How little either dreamed that this was to be their last 
meeting ! 

Scarcely had Howard been two hours asleep when he was 
awakened by a terrible jolting of his berth. Hurry and con- 
fusion soon reigned where peace and comfort had dwelt a few 
moments before. Two coaches had run off the track at a dan- 
gerous turn in the road, causing much damage and the loss of 
several lives, one of them none other than that of the good 
priest, Father Hendrick, who happened at the moment of dan- 
ger to be passing from one coach to another. 

Loud cries for a doctor were heard on all sides, and How- 
ard promptly responded to the cry, rendering what services he 
could to the poor sufferers and giving directions about the dis- 
posal of the mangled body of his friend. They were within 
one mile of Father Hendrick's home, or rather that of his 
mother, for a priest has neither " home nor country." Howard 
gave orders to have the holy remains brought to the parish 
church, whither he preceded them to obtain leave to place them 
before the altar. Arriving here, he confided to the priest in 
charge the sad office of breaking the news to the poor mother, 
whose state of happy expectancy was so soon to be trans- 
formed into one of mourning and sorrow. 

Howard remained in the village all night, and the next 
morning repaired to the church for the first Requiem Mass. 
On his way he met a woman in black. One look convinced 
him that it was Mrs. Hendrick. She had heard of him, and 
walking forward, mutely took his hand and drew him into the 
church. Here for the first time Howard heard the words of 
the Mass, and witnessed with much edification the piety of those 
present, while listening to the words with which the priest 
recommended the departed soul to the prayers of all. A holy 



530 SUSAN BROWN, AUTOCRAT. [Jan., 

awe and veneration for the Mother who so loves her children, 
following them with her offices even after death, stole over him. 
He did not note the flight of time, when the Mass was over, 
as he watched that mother, not overcome by grief, as he had 
expected, but overcoming grief by the holy weapon of prayer. 
Small wonder that there and then, quite uninfluenced by the 
motives which might have urged him to adopt the true faith, 
he should exclaim : " This is the true faith ! O my God ! this 
shall be my faith ! " 

" I knows dat writin', honey, an' even ef I didn't, wouldn't 
I know by yo' eyes dat it come fum Marse Har'd ? Well, 
what's de news, honey?" 

" Read it, read it, Aunt Sue, and thank God ! It is news 
direct from heaven. Howard is being instructed already. O 
aunty! that dear St. Joseph; he wouldn't even wait nine days 
to give us our wish." 

" I reckon dat po' blessed saint, Father Hendrick, had sump- 
in' to do with that, chile. He* soul flew right to heaven, dat 's 
sho* an' sartin, an* he never did leave nothin' half done. Now, 
Miss Jo, you git ready and come right 'long to the church 
an* thank him an' yo' pet saint. We '11 call at Miss Shepherd's 
on de way back. It 's high time you was gettin' some new, 
smah't dresses, an* I'se gwine t' leab my han* out dis time, an* 
let 'em do thar own new-fangled work on you. You'se been 
brung up not to sot yo' mind on dress an* sich like, an' it ain't 
done you no harm neither. You'se ole 'nuff now to know the 
vanity o' them things. You can w'ar de robes o* de Queen o' 
Sheba an* no ha'm. Some day soon Marse Har'd '11 be comin' 
back an' carryin' you off, but sho' an' sartin' dis ole darky 
ain't gwine t' be lef behine. Ole missus, she say, 'Take kyar 
o' my chile,' an' I'se gwine take kyar." 




MERCANTILE THRIFT IN THE LARGER TOWNS. 




THE SPANISH ADMINISTRATION IN THE 
PHILIPPINES. 

R. WORCESTER, the author of a book on the 
Philippine Islands,* informs us on the title-page 
that he is assistant professor of zoology in the 
University of Michigan. A good book treating 
of the resources of the islands and the social 
condition and characteristics of their people would be valuable 
at present. It is highly probable the islands will become a 
centre of commerce in the near future. The United States and 
the European nations are speculating as to the meaning of the 
open-door policy announced by the American executive. The 
Germans seem to interpret it in one way, the English in another ; 
while all the interested European powers indicate some per- 
ception of a constitutional difficulty in levying customs dues 
upon goods passing from one portion of American territory to 
another. We assume that those responsible for government 
understand the limit of their powers ; the point we look at is 
that the speculation in the press of the United States and of 

* The Philippine Islands and their People. By Dean C. Worcester. New York : The 
Macmillan Company. 

VOL. LXVIII. 34 



532 SPANISH ADMINISTRA TION IN THE PHILIPPINES. [Jan., 

Europe shows the importance of the new possession, and we 
desire to ascertain to what extent the book before us throws 
light upon that aspect of the matter. We are entitled to ex- 
amine the book from this point of view because the author 
declares it is written for the information of the government. 
We have no hesitation in saying, from this point of view the 
work is useful. It is a good contribution to physical geography* 
it adds something* to the domain of natural history, and is 
suggestive in the field of commercial activity. 

NATURAL RESOURCES. 

The possessions are extensive, said to be something like 
114,000 square miles, or perhaps about the area of California. 
The soil for the most part is astonishingly fertile, reminding 
one of what has been so often said of the rich meadow-lands of 
the United Kingdom, that crop after crop has been taken from 
the same ground without manuring it. The products are of 
the variety to be found in all latitudes from the Baltic to the 
Mediterranean. The value of the forests is enormous ; but how 
far the timber would supply the failing woods of the United 
States is difficult to determine. One thing is clear, that there 
are woods excellent for cabinet-making and building, and 
that one plant, the palma brava, would be found most ser- 
viceable in the drainage of swampy areas, in small towns, for 
piles under wharves, as conduits for the water-supply of districts. 
The development of these great natural resources has been 
checked partly by the heavy taxes, partly by the apathy of the 
government. There is hardly anything that deserves the name of 
means of communication and of transport. The want of roads has 
complicated the question of labor. On the surface it would 
seem that an ample supply of good and cheap labor is at hand 
in a population of eight millions, but Mr. Worcester informs us 
that he has frequently seen rice and sugar-cane spoiling in the 
fields for want of men to harvest them. We take it that the 
explanation is that population is sparse in some places, toler- 
ably dense in others. Railways and good roads might solve 
this part of the problem, but there remains the natives' happy- 
go-lucky disposition resulting from few wants and these supplied 
with little exertion. The latter may be a task worthy of 
American enterprise and inspiration. The great principles of 
the founders of the Republic cannot be a mere sound. It is 
quite possible the demands of the recent war on that reserve 
of public spirit which must lie somewhere in a whole people 



1899-] SPANISH ADMINISTRA TION IN THE PHILIPPIC f s. 533 




THE NATIVES ARE AS A CLASS INDUSTRIOUS. 

inheriting generous traditions has drawn to the surface those 
ideals of human elevation which the absorbing pursuit of wealth 
and the hard conflict with the difficulties of life had almost 
chilled to death. If so, the war may not have been an unmixed 
evil. At least, with a new charge and a vast one, America has 
assumed new and vast responsibilities. It will be a subject of 
deep interest to the student of humanity with what spirit she 
enters on this mission. 

We have said so much in praise of the book before us ; we 
regret there is much to be regretted in the tone of it. There 
is a puerility in the complaints about accommodation and trans- 
portation which would be more becoming an English cotton- 
man masquerading forty years ago in Italy as a milor than in 
an American naturalist travelling in a strange and hardly known 
country in the interests of science. The roads no doubt were 
bad, the hotels execrable, but students of nature should be 
prepared to rough it. He complains that on his first expedi- 
tion he and his friends "were regarded with more or less 
suspicion by the Spanish authorities, and on [more than one 



534 SPANISH ADMINISTRA TION IN THE PHILIPPINES. [Jan., 

occasion seriously interfered with." Of course they were ; no 
one knew anything about them, they might have been spies or 
prospectors, or anything calculated to arouse the suspicions of 
a government. 

THE ETHICS OF SCIENTIFIC EXPEDITIONS. 

For ourselves, we view with some degree of distrust ex- 
peditions among savage or semi-civilized peoples in the pursuit 
of scientific discovery, and for the advancement of religion and 
morality. Take the most recent instance, that of Major 
Marchand, we do not yet know what cruelties marked his path. 
We know that on Stanley's march the natives were hunted like 
game, shot down or forced to carry the impedimenta. They 
were half starved and scourged as long as they could move ; 
when they fell so as not to rise again, they were left a prey to 
bird and beast. Something of Stanley's sense of superiority 
possessed Mr. Worcester and his friends in the Philippines ; 
but they had not the advantages of Stanley, their resources were 
limited, and even Spanish rule over semi civilized Filipinos is 
not the same thing as tribal government in Africa. 

The world makes too much of explorers. Every tourist is a 
traveller, every amateur a lion of geographical societies. 
What happens when one of these gentlemen returns say to 
England ? The story of his adventures has preceded him. 
Fashionable and learned people are on the tiptoe of expectation. 
Mrs. Leo Hunter whether she be a duchess in search of a 
new excitement or the wife of a lawyer within measurable dis- 
tance of the solicitor-generalship, throws open her drawing- 
rooms. Scientific societies hold receptions and elect him to 
their honorary membership. His name is put down in the best 
clubs, and no one is ill-mannered enough to whisper about the 
blood shed, the hearts broken, in the expedition. 

Mr. Worcester and his friends carried fire-arms with them 
in lands where it is against the law to carry them without per- 
mission. If he had lived in parts of the British Empire, he 
would know that there are parts of the civilized world where 
this privilege of freemen is principally observed in the breach. 
Suspected persons are dogged in the most advanced states of 
Europe. In the German Empire, in each one of the twenty- 
eight states that constitute it, a traveller without credentials 
might at any moment find himself in jail. A stranger was 
arrested the other day in England for asking some questions of 
a sentinel. It may seem strange that Spain was the country 






899-] SPAA T JSH ADMINISTRA TION IN THE PHILIPPINES. 535 




THERE is A CHARM IN THE HOME LIFE AMONG THE WOMEN. 

through which an unknown person might travel with the least 
annoyance. It was the country in which a foreigner might most 
safely wound susceptibilities if it were not thought that he was 
the agent of an insurrectionary body. She has not, like England, 
farmed herself out as the meeting-ground of the conspirators of 
Europe ; she has retained the right to keep from mischief 
foreigners within her boundaries. England could disregard her 
principle of asylum for foreign patriots if she suspected them 
of plotting against herself. American citizens were, within our 
own memory, imprisoned by the hundred on bare suspicion. 
Let this be understood clearly. As long as the American 
government was inactive Americans were imprisoned against 
whom there was not a scintilla of evidence. When pressure 
was put upon the British government, Americans against whom 
there was substantial evidence were released, or, if put on their 



536 SPA NISH A DM IN is TRA TION IN THE PHILIPPINE s. [Jan., 

trial, were tried so as almost to secure their acquittal. The 
juries were selected for the purpose. 

WORCESTER WAS THOUGHT TO BE A SPY. 

It would appear that the authorities in the Philippines evi- 
dently thought these strangers were exploring the country as 
spies. No one believed that they were innocent naturalists. 
The lazy Spaniard or the active Mestizo would not understand 
that the adventurers took upon themselves the extraordinary 
fatigues attendant on their studies through a love of science 
and of mankind. We venture to say there are Americans be- 
tween the Pacific and Atlantic who would judge at first sight 
that there must be. "money in it" if they saw men climbing 
mountains, crossing swift currents, making arduous journeys, 
undergoing hardships such as Mr. Worcester describes. We 
think he and his companions got very well out of the conse- 
quences of their invasion of the possessions of a power natur- 
ally jealous of filibusters and more elevated propagandists of 
scientific religion and commercial morality. We cannot help 
thinking these gentlemen entertained for the people of these 
possessions and their rulers some such estimate as that which 
Mr. Stanley and Major Marchand had of the poor Africans 
they desired to enlighten and enrich in the manner we have 
described. This would seem clear from the circumstances of 
the second expedition. They took on this occasion evidence of 
their bona fides, and making allowance for everything, they 
enjoyed exceptional facilities for carrying on their work. In 
point of fact it would seem that any difficulty Mr. Worcester 
met with from a local official arose from his going into his 
jurisdiction without his* credentials, while he bore about him 
grounds for distrust in his fire-arms, and the fact of his being 
the citizen of a power whose people were not supposed to be 
especially friendly to the government. That the suspicion was 
well founded, would seem established by the boast he makes 
that he obtained information valuable to the rulers of his 
country. People who make a book from their experiences in 
a foreign country for the information of their own government 
are apt to look from a point of view which will make their 
impressions nothing more than a piece of advocacy. 

SPAIN ABOLISHED SLAVERY IN THE PHILIPPINES. 

The roads are bad, the products of the country are not 
raised on any scale commensurate with natural advantages, its 



1899-] SPANISH ADMINISTRATION IN THE PHILIPPINES. 537 




AT VESPER-TIME AN INSTANT HUSH COMES OVER THE WHOLE VILLAGE. 

resources are undeveloped, the people are criminal and idle, 
ignorant and immoral. If the church be sustained by the state, 
the laziness, wealth, and viciousness of the clergy are the 
source of all the evils. We have this picture from Mr. Worcester 
of the Philippine Islands; and yet glimpses of sunlight are let 
in. At the earliest hour of the history of their connection 
with Spain a law was made forbidding slavery. No native 
could be made a slave ; any native who had been made a slave 
was by virtue of the law emancipated in a comparatively short 
time. The law was not a dead-letter. All the natives were 
freemen before, during, and since negro slavery had become a 
thing of the past in the United States. Slavery was abolished 
in the West Indies only in this century; it flourishes at this 
moment in the British possessions in Africa. True, it is called 
forced labor, for which the laborers are paid. But what is the 
nature of the freedom of contract when one party to it must 
work at the will of the other? There is enough known to 
show that the South African natives work under the lash, that 
they are hunted if they escape, that their families and friends 



53$ SPANISH ADMINISTRA TION IN THE PHILIPPINES. [Jan., 

are condemned to punishment if they cannot be recovered. 
The cattle are carried away, the able-bodied compelled to take 
the place of the fugitives it matters not whether two or three 
are borne off for every one that had escaped, they are black 
men intended by nature to do the work which white men can- 
not do in mines and in swamps. It is thought that quite suf- 
ficient recognition of their human nature has been evinced, 
when it is stated they had been taken as a punishment and 
not as slaves. Of course, the system secures the delivering up 
of the fugitives. The runaway from a white man's farm, or 
place of business, from a railway in course of construction, 
from a morass in course of drainage, when he gets among his 
own people is looked upon as a deadly visitation, as a famine 
or a pestilence, as a calamity from which they can only escape 
by the most appalling expiation which human nature can 
undergo ; the surrender of those ties of family and kind com- 
mon to the most cultivated and the most savage, the only 
influences which preserve in the savage one ray from a better 
world than he has found in life. We decline to be beguiled 
into an acceptance of the morality of treating weak peoples 
unjustly, and this Mr. Worcester attempts, when he writes as 
if he had a title to offend the people who had not sent for him, 
who complains of the cookery in hotels when it did not please 
his taste, the comfort of beds when he should have provided 
such as suited him if he had intended to play the s)barite on 
an excursion into the wilds of nature in pursuit of new species 
of " birds and mammals." We do not think that this man of 
science comes well out of an expedition made to combine ob- 
servation of nature with the process for a long time known as 
that of " spying out the weakness of the land." 

THE INFLUENCE OF THE CLERGY OVER THE NATIVE. 

He has much to say of the ignorance and corruption of the 
clergy, yet he tells us " that priests proved more successful 
than soldiers in bringing about the subjugation of the native 
tribes in the early days." What does this mean as a com- 
mentary upon the ignorance and corruption of the clergy? 
First take the words within the inverted commas: they mean 
that the clergy had a way of access to the native which the 
power of Spain did not possess, that they had a love for souls 
and a sympathy with human needs and aspirations extending 
over the whole range of savage life. They convinced the wor- 
shipper of some superstition that they had brought him truths 



i $99-] SPANISH ADMINISTRATION IN THE PHILIPPINES. 539 



which opened a new world within his soul. This they could 
not have done unless he saw in their lives something purer and 
higher than anything he had ever witnessed ; unless he found 
in those men who were to him as gods a tenderness and sym- 
pathy which united them to him by ties enduring and inex- 
pressible. This is why the mis_ 
sionaries passed through a door 
which would be barred against 
the fleets and armies of Spain. 
But it may be objected that the 
fervor and holiness of those early 
priests no longer existed, that the 
pure lives which illustrated the 
Gospel they taught were no longer 
lived, that if the missionaries were 
of the metal of the priests of to- 
day, they would not have taken 
captive minds clouded by idola- 
try, hearts knowing no law but the 
impulses of nature. To this we 
give as an answer the testimony 
of Mr. Worcester, that the clergy 
possess immense influence over the 
natives. Arguing back from that, 
it would seem that these must not 
on the whole have been unfaithful 
to this high trust. Analyze it, and 
it must appear that the priests of 
a high and pure morality are tried 
by simple minds by that standard. 
The sophisticated mind alone dis- 
tinguishes between the man and the 
morality he inculcates. The teach- 
ing of the missionaries gave to a 
life bounded by the narrow calls of nature a value which lifted it 
to the infinite and eternal, the savage found himself some one, 
indeed, amid the forces he had feared, something beneath the 
sky and its changes, something in the face of the volcano, 
something amid the ebb and flow of external nature and the 
ebb and flow of his own passions. He was lord of all in the 
new light, as David saw man's lordship when he made the 
hymn of creation celebrating the royalty of human nature. 
This was what the early priests taught, and their lives must 




A NATIVE WATER-CARRIER. 



540 SPANISH ADMINISTRA TION IN THE PHILIPPINES. [Jan., 

have been so far as imperfection allows commensurate with 
the teaching. A general decay of morals, a general depravity 
among the clergy, would have so corrupted the succeeding 
generations they would have gone back to their old idols and 
usages, their unrestrained animal life. The clergy should either 
follow them into superstition or stand separated from them. 
They would be regarded as pensioners of a government which 
raised heavy taxes to maintain men unworthy of support. 
They would be execrated as a useless burden on the people 
if not looked upon as an evil emanation of a government which 
had forfeited all title to obedience. But, on the contrary, not- 
withstanding the unfortunate dependence of the clergy on the 
state, the security of the latter rested mainly on the devotion 
of the people to the clergy. Consequently, when we are told 
that all the troubles in the Philippines, all the tumults, insur- 
rections, outrages, sprang from hatred of the clergy, we must 
rub our eyes. If, upon the one hand, the natives will only en- 
list in the army to please the priests ; if it be true, as Mr. 
Worcester informs us, that the subjugation of the natives in 
the first instance was due to the influence of the priests rather 
than to the armies of Spain, and the authority of that coun- 
try could only have been so long maintained by this influence, 
we confess an utter inability to understand that statement. 
There is one element, no doubt, in the indictment which may 
possess a certain amount of value the fact that the priests 
were in part paid out of the taxes ; we utterly refuse to believe 
that their principal revenues were derived from that source. 

CONDEMNATION NOT BEFITTING THE ANGLO-SAXON. 

It is quite conceivable that some of the young natives, 
particularly Mestizos, would imbibe from reading and inter- 
course those so-called liberal opinions which are seething in 
Europe. Opinions of the kind have plunged the mother 
country into war after war, caused her crown to be sent a-beg- 
ging over Europe, reduced her to the condition of a third-rate 
power, and now have placed her in the lowest scale of Euro- 
pean nations. We say it is conceivable, because those persons 
of mixed blood may have chafed under the contempt of per- 
sons of Spanish birth and gone on to include in their dislike 
whatever appeared to represent the arrogance of the dominant 
race. They might readily enough find a following among the 
lawless and desperate who are to be found in every state in 
which communication is difficult. Our author himself visited a 



1899-] SPANISH ADMINISTRA TION IN THE PHILIPPINES, 541 

notorious outlaw who seems to have been a sort of despot in 
his region. Be this as it may, we can have no more difficulty 
in understanding this partial dissatisfaction with existing relations 
between the clergy and the state, when we know that within a 
few years a majority of the French prefectures were in the 
hands of Jews and the rest in the hands of Freemasons who 
were not Jews. It is not sufficient, however, to say that the 
discontent in any way that the troubles in any way, could 
have arisen from the paltry sum paid to the clergy ; a tithe of 
the income of the state was more than their endowment from 
this source. It would not seem extravagant. For the normal 
expenses of government, including everything, 35,000,000 a 
year would be about the amount expended on the vast machin- 
ery of the British Empire. A like sum is employed in paying 
the interest on the national debt, and, as a sort of sinking fund, 
the other millions are drawn for unexpected demands due to 
the new expansion^ policy. The income of the Established 
Church in England a state church in the possession of national 
property is considerably more than a tenth of 35,000,000. 
This work has been written for English readers as much as for 
American, its tone is struck to catch the British ear; we are in 
order in calling in the example of England and her church. If 
Spain, ruling islands so distant, so difficult of access owing to the 
poverty and the other troubles brought upon her by Liberalism 
and the rebellions in its train ; if, upon the whole, she has dealt 
with the natives in a way incomparably better than that in 
which England has treated all the peoples of India, the highly 
civilized as well as the less civilized ; if she has done some- 
thing to promote the growth of the population instead of wiping 
them from the earth, as England has almost done with the 
finest savage race the world has ever beheld, the New-Zealand- 
ers, condemnation does not lie in an Anglo-Saxon's tongue. 
Who are those who condemn the Spaniards for cruelty? Men 
who have surpassed all ancient conquerors in the atrocities 
they inflicted on the people of India. Everything included in 
the most extreme conception of what military license means 
was acted time after time, year after year, decade after decade, 
from Clive's day until the mutiny. Are there none of the high 
privileges of conquest enjoyed to-day, this very day, by the 
traders, the clerks, the civilians, the officers, the soldiers, the 
camp-followers who have settled in that country like crows 
upon a carcass ? Why, the commonest private soldier, the 
pariah of his native parish in England, is a tyrant over the 



542 SPANISH ADMINISTRA TION IN THE PHILIPPINES. [Jan., 

natives of India. What has become of the Aborigines of Aus- 
tralia? There is a tragedy if we could go below the earth, if 
we could enter the realm of shades and interrogate those 
images of fierce chiefs and tribesmen who fell fighting desper- 
ately for their villages, or who carried on desultory wars from 
screen to screen in what is called the " Bush," until all were 
slain except the more timid women, the more abject men, and 
some of the children, spared as in a battue young birds are 
spared, thrown back into the wilds as unfit fish taken in a 
net are thrown back into a lake. 

PROGRESS IN CIVILIZING INFLUENCES. 

Schools and colleges are to be found in the Philippines in 
which a system of education is carried on not inferior to that 
in the most advanced nations. The priests have immense influ- 
ence, and the author adds : " If it were always used to further 
good ends, there is. hardly a limit to what might be accom- 
plished." There can have been nothing like general depravity 
among the priests when the influence is there despite their con- 
nection with the government, and worse still, their dependence 
for revenue on petty officials certain to be detested. The pub- 
licans were hated by the Jews because they oppressed them by 
exactions in excess of the taxes for the state. Every one en- 
gaged in the collection of tithes for the Episcopal ministers in 
Scotland was an object of hatred to the Presbyterians. The 
bishops and clergy of the Establishment in England were said 
to have been the cause of the great Civil War. Until very 
recently the rector in every parish was spoken of by the dissent- 
ing minister and his congregation as a priest of Baal. At this 
moment the rector in almost any part of Wales owes his 
safety to the law rather than to the love of the Nonconformist. 
It is not on account of differences of opinion so much as be- 
cause the rector's connection with the state stamps him and his 
flock with a superiority over the others that they are disliked. 
Almost every incident in the examples cited has been present 
in the status of the clergy with the natives of the Philippines, 
and yet the influence of the clergy remains undiminished. 
We therefore decline to accept the general verdict against the 
clergy. 

THE NATIVE CHRISTIAN POSSESSES HIGH MORAL QUALITIES. 

Mr. Worcester supplies, towards the end of his book,* our 

* Page 475. 



1899-] SPANISH ADMINISTRA TION IN THE PHILIPPINES. 543 




DOMESTIC DUTIES ARE WELL DISCHARGED. 

justification. He correctly judges that the most immediately 
pressing question results from the disposition of the civilized 
natives. These and these alone are Christians ; they number 
about five millions, and constitute what may be considered the 
law-abiding element of the population. Mr. Foreman,* it 
appears, has a hopelessly bad opinion of the Christian native ; 
he will rob his master after years of service, he will betray him 
to brigands, " he will commit some horrid crime against him." 
This is the manner in which Mr. Worcester presents Mr. Fore- 
man ; but he is honest enough to add that such occurrences 
are far from common he implies even that they are extremely 
rare, and he rightly observes they are not confined to the Philip- 
pines. In point of fact, it would appear that the native Chris- 
tian possesses moral qualities which favorably contrast with 

* The Philippine Islands. 



5 44 SPA NISH A DM IN is TRA TION IN THE PHILIPPINE s. [Jan., 

those of what are understood to be civilized nations. He is 
generous and hospitable so Mr. Worcester says, and he must 
have had very exceptional opportunities for forming an opinion 
owing to his pursuits, he is generous and hospitable ; and to 
entertain a stranger without a shadow of claim upon him he 
will go to " any amount of trouble " and to considerable ex- 
pense. It may be objected that this is a characteristic of sav- 
age and semi-civilized peoples ; we deny the correctness of this 
opinion so far as it implies that general hospitality is not an 
institution that is something springing from a primitive law or 
custom. There have been savage peoples, and there are, who 
had no such idea, who have no such principle, not the most 
rudimentary notion of hospitality peoples from whom all mem 
ory of it has died out as completely as the traces of all higher 
religion would seem to have gone from the Australians. 

CHARM OF HOME LIFE AMONG THEM. 
t 

Again, take up their practice of personal cleanliness. This 
must have been introduced by the clergy in the time of the 
early conversions, simply because it is impossible to conceive 
savages washing themselves daily, taking baths frequently, unless 
from the influence of an external authority. But in this case 
the external authority could have been only from the church. 
It is quite unnecessary to insist upon this practice as evidence 
of a careful and enlightened rule over the converts and the 
possession of a commanding influence the very elaborate pro- 
visions concerning ceremonial ablutions in the Mosaic legisla- 
tion prove very distinctly the necessity of a special sanction to 
enforce such an observance but we should infer such an influ- 
ence, even if Mr. Worcester had not mentioned the power the 
clergy have upon the Christian natives from his report of their 
personal cleanliness. Again, he tells us that quite as noticeable 
as their universal hospitality is the neatness of their houses and 
the charm of home-life among them. To say the least, it is 
most remarkable the contrast presented by the ferocity and 
lust of the Moros a vigorous race and the religious and 
domestic virtues of the Christians, composed as they are of a 
population greater than that of all other inhabitants taken to- 
gether and deriving origin from various sources. On very little 
more than a superficial examination of the work, it would ap- 
pear that the severest strictures pronounced by Mr. Worcester 
applied almost exclusively to heathens and Mohammedans, so 
that "the immense influence" of the clergy must have been 



1899-] SPANISH ADMINISTRA TION IN THE PHILIPPINES. 545 




THE NATIVE INDUSTRIES ARE FLOURISHING. 

beneficially employed ; and consequently that the rather absurd 
form of expressing the quantum of evil arising from that in- 
fluence is not only a poor joke but, we regret to say, a dis- 
tinct falsehood. He lets us see that the position of the wife 
in the household is a high and authoritative one. The impres- 
sion his facts produce is that she, to a very large extent, is 
the ruler and administrator, that she keeps the purse, makes 
contracts, and as frequently as not she alone makes the con- 
tracts.* 

THE VESPER-TIME CUSTOM. 

The description he gives of what follows when the Vesper- 
time comes reminds one of the Middle Ages when a strong 
faith was everywhere, or of the Jesuit Reductions in Paraguay 
when in feeling as in fact the Gospel was the code of the land, 
the Cross its standard. We give this Protestant's words : " An 
instant hush comes over the busy village. In each house father, 
mother, and children fall on their knees before the image or 

* " I have been frequently referred, by the head of the house, to ' mi muyer ' when I wished 
to make a bargain " (page 480). 



546 SPANISH ADMINISTRA TION IN THE PHILIPPINES. [Jan., 

picture of some saint and repeat their prayers." Then follows 
the good-night of the children, in which respect and affection 
for their parents and for each other are manifested in a man- 
ner nowhere to be found since Catholic sentiment and manners 
died out of the world. Mr. Worcester tells us that this Catholic 
native of the Philippines " is self-respecting and self-restrained in 
*a remarkable degree. He is a kind father and a dutiful son. His 
aged relatives are never left in want, but are brought to his home 
and are welcome to share the best that it affords to the end of 
their days." Now, these being his personal and family qualities, 
we must look upon him as one lifted completely out of the savage 
and " natural " life by a power more than human. Read an 
account of any savage people, from the Maoris standing at one 
extreme and the Bushmen at the other, and you will find the 
morals of a herd of cattle, the relations of animal instinct regu- 
lating the family life. The thing won't bear discussion ; it is as 
clear as daylight that the nine-tenths of Mr. Worcester's book 
written to defame the clergy, and the few pages hidden towards 
the end, are in such direct conflict with each other that only 
one of them can be true. Now, from his incidental observa- 
tions we have shown that another conclusion was the true one 
rather than the sweeping generalities in which he seems to have 
followed a Mr. Foreman with a sort of dazed submission until 
in some intelligible way his natural feeling of fair play and 
American independence emancipated him from the spell of that 
writer. 

THE WORK OF THE JESUITS. 

We have some more direct evidence that his sense of jus- 
tice is too strong for preconceived opinions ; accordingly, he 
states that the " Jesuits are a power for good. As a rule they 
are well educated and of more than ordinary ability." Yet these 
men, when their work was at its best in educating the people, 
combining as they knew so well how to combine the most 
thorough religious with the most effective secular education, 
were driven out by the wave of odium which, beginning in 
Southern Europe, broke with violence on the distant Philippines. 
From 1768 until 1852 no Jesuit could set foot upon the islands. 
If the people suffered during that long interval from the want 
of the best teachers, if in consequence of the decrees against 
the order morality became more lax, religion of less authority, 
and if with the lessened hold of religion and morality passed 
away that painstaking, conscientious pursuit of his secular avo- 



1899-] SPANISH ADMINISTRA TION IN THE PHILIPPINES. 547 

cations which marks the Jesuit pupil as surely as it is said his 
economic training opens a career to the Scotchman in whatever 
country he may settle, the judgment should be pronounced 
against the real delinquents, the pseudo-philosophers of the last 
century, the wretched rulers whom they beguiled, the short- 
sighted Protestants who applauded that injustice, the men of 
science in our own time who tried to perpetuate it. The clergy 
are not responsible for the evils ; they could not have been even 
in the opinion of the people, who have so well distinguished 
between them and the agents of the government in spite of the 
close relations between the church and state. 

FOREMAN NOT AN IMPARTIAL HISTORIAN. 

In this work there is a long extract from the book entitled 
The Philippine Islands, by Mr. Foreman. It would seem that 
the " friars " hold very valuable real property in the provinces 
near Manila. It must be mentioned, however, that they have 
not been permitted to take charge of parishes, or as a conse- 
quence to receive a stipend for the cure of souls. They are de- 
scribed as tyrannical landlords ; and the evidence adduced of 
this by that writer is that the leases are granted for the nomi- 
nal term of three years, "but," he subjoins, "the receipts given 
for the rent are very cunningly worded. Some have been shown 
to me; neither the amount of money paid, nor the extent of 
the land rented, nor its situation, is mentioned in the document, 
so that the tenant is constantly at the mercy of the owners." 
It is to the purpose to point out that Mr. Foreman makes no 
mention of one specific instance of injustice in this respect, and 
we are of opinion, from his very particular and minute refer- 
ences to one or two instances of immorality, he would not 
have spared the friars had he known of cases in which they de- 
frauded tenants who had paid their rents. 

As a matter of fact, the gentleman makes inferences utterly 
unwarranted. The receipt is not the document to look to for 
the statement of the contract between the parties. In the 
lease the rent reserved, the acreage, the abutments or boun- 
daries, all the particulars he misses from the receipt, must have 
been stated. A receipt is not evidence of a contract ; it is 
evidence against the signer of money received by him as pay- 
ment. Now, clearly, if the receipt is dated, the presumption 
of law would be, at the highest, that it was for the nearest 
gale of rent to that date ; if not dated, the presumption still 
would be that it was for the last gale of rent. A lease, say 
VOL. LXVIII. 35 



548 SPANISH ADMINISTRATION IN THE PHILIPPINES. [Jan., 

for three years, reserving rent at ten dollars the half year, 
would be clearly for some gale of rent, and if the tenant could 
produce the requisite number of receipts to cover payments 
during the whole three years, it would be held by any court 
that he had made the payments. Instead of being proof of 
fraudulent intention, unbusiness-like receipts such as these 
would be an indication of the exact contrary. The fact that 
no definite sum was mentioned would be held to mean a clear 
receipt as being evidence against interest. 

We prefer the tone of Mr. Worcester's book to that of 
Mr. Foreman if the extract to which we have alluded is at all 
characteristic of its spirit. There is a flippancy in his manner 
which possesses neither humor nor cleverness. For instance : 
" I was in Manila a few years back when a capital crime, com- 
mitted by a depraved Spanish Gentleman of the Cloth" etc. 
the italics are Mr. Foreman's ; he would not for the world 
allow us to miss his fun. Again : " I knew a money-grabbing 
priest." We again quote him in the case of this " money-grab- 
bing priest." He " had the audacity to dictate to a friend of 

mine, Don L - L , the value of the gift he was to make." 

He also remembers " a certain native Father L ." L seems 

to be the only walking letter in his alphabet ; but we have 
shown in these examples that he would have given particular 
instances of fraud, instead of making the general charge 
founded on the stupid receipts, if any he had to give. 

The United States has taken possession of the islands. We 
hope a great history is to be made in their future. The ma- 
terials are there, we think ; for the virtue of fidelity cannot 
exist without other noble and engaging qualities, and Mr. 
Worcester has proved that the native Christians possess it in a 
remarkable degree. It is not for us to speak of the natural 
resources and the elements of commercial activity in the com- 
mand of a large amount of cheap labor. Still less of the 
policy of the open door now agitating England, or the right 
of the executive to declare a protectorate. These are high 
questions, but possibly it will be found that the solution of 
this task is in the power which at the moment represents the 
sovereignty of the Union. We hope it may be so, in order 
that a strong authority, unfettered by the conflicts of parties, 
their preferences, their prejudices, may protect the interests of 
the new subjects of America against the banking Christianity 
of London Jews or the manufacturing morality of Manchester 
handkerchiefs. 




1899-] ANNEXATION AND THE CONSTITUTION. 549 



ANNEXATION, "THE OPEN DOOR," AND THE 
CONSTITUTION. 

BY EDMUND BRIGGS, D.C.L., 
Catholic University of America, Washington, D. C. 

T the termination of a war decreed by the Con- 
gress, as clothed by the Constitution with the 
majestas of the American people, the executive, 
acting within the limitations of the imperium to 
him committed by the same instrument, duly 
selected his commissioners and negotiated with the enemy a 
treaty of peace. This treaty, inasmuch as it provides, among 
other things, for the cession by Spain to the United States 
of certain colonial dependencies of the former power, coupled 
with a grant by the latter to the former of the trade policy 
generically styled that of the " open door," for a limited 
number of years, in the Philippine Islands, has, in advance 
of its presentation to the Senate of the United States, been 
fiercely assailed, on constitutional grounds, as an abandonment 
of the " Monroe Doctrine," and as a dangerous departure from 
our time-honored policy of isolation. 

NOT BOUND BY POLICIES OF A CENTURY GONE. 

This policy of isolation, beyond an expression of belief 
that a line of foreign policy laid down for the guidance of 
the infancy of a weak and struggling " Staatenbund," confined 
to the coast-line of the Atlantic Ocean, and surrounded to the 
north, south, and west by territories of powerful European monar- 
chies, was never intended by George Washington, or any one else 
of the patres, to curb the aspirations, hamper the energies, or en- 
slave the economic future of the mighty " Bundesstaat " of to- 
day, with its seventy-five millions of industrious freemen, and 
its territorial home domain extending from the Atlantic to the 
Pacific, and from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico. The 
writer, not being a " statesman," senator, or clergyman, does 
not propose to settle the problem off-hand, and is content to 
entrust the solution of it to those to whose patriotism the same 
has been confided by the Constitution and the laws, to wit : 
to the executive and the Congress. But to the novel and ex- 

NOTE. It has been asserted frequently of late that the policy of expansion is not only 
imprudent, but it is in opposition to the organic law of the land. In rebuttal of this we have 
secured the opinion of Dr. Briggs, one of the legal lights of the Catholic University of 
America, and present the same herewith. ED. CATHOLIC WORLD. 



550 ANNEXATION, "THE OPEN DOOR;' [Jan., 

traordinary legal theses invoked against the ratification of the 
treaty of peace proposed by the President of the United 
States of America, by virtue of the initiative to him com- 
mitted by the Constitution, we feel impelled, by a sense of 
duty towards those whose legal education is in part com- 
mitted to our care, to offer some few words of earnest criticism. 
To start with, it is asserted and reiterated that, inasmuch 
as the joint resolution authorizing and directing the President 
to intervene by force of arms in Cuba expressed, in terms, the 
object of that intervention to be the removal of Spanish 
sovereignty from the Island of Cuba ; and, since the act of 
Congress declaring war was in line with the terms of the inter- 
vention resolution, the President, as commander-in-chief of the 
army and navy of the United States, had no constitutional 
power to wage war beyond the point of compelling the evacua- 
tion of Cuba, or to so enlarge the scope of the war as to 
make the cession of any other Spanish territory a condition 
precedent of peace with Spain. The writer has yet to see a 
shred of argument advanced, or the citation of a single author- 
ity made, in support of this thesis, its entire force lying in 
dogmatic assertion, sans argument, sans authority, sans anything 
save fiat. What is the law of the case ? what the proposition ? 

THE PRESIDENT'S PLENARY POWER. 

In political science the war power, as the treaty-making 
power, is executive and not legislative power ; and the Constitu- 
tion of the land expressly declares, Art. II., sec. I : "The 
executive power shall be vested in a President of the United 
States of America " ; and, Art. II., sec. 2 : " The President shall 
be commander-in-chief of the army and navy of the United 
States, and of the militia of the several States, when called in- 
to the actual service of the United States " ; and again, in the 
same section : " He shall have power, by and with the advice 
and consent of the Senate, to make treaties, provided two- 
thirds of the senators present concur." True, the executive 
war power of political science is, by the same instrument, 
Art. I., sec. 8, partly delegated to Congress, just as the execu- 
tive treaty-making power is partly delegated to the Senate ; 
but how far? The language is: " The Congress shall have 
power" . . . '"to declare war, grant letters of marque and 
reprisal, and make rules concerning captures on land and water." 
(The italics are the writer's.) Now, if it be true that the war 
and treaty-making powers are by political science executive 
and not legislative functions, since the executive power is vested 



1899-] AND THE CONSTITUTION. 551 

by the Constitution in the President, whom it also makes com- 
mander-in-chief of the army and navy, it follows that the pleni- 
tude thereof, save as, and only so far as above limited, rests 
with the President, not with Congress or the Senate. This 
upon the well-established rule of constitutional construction laid 
down by Justice Story in delivering an opinion in the Supreme 
Court, that a constitution shall not be so construed as to be 
made ridiculous. In other words, the Constitution leaves the 
act of waging war with the executive, where political science 
places it, confining Congress to its declaration; and as to trea- 
ties, confines the Senate to advice, consent, concurrence, leaving 
the entire initiative of negotiation with the President. If this 
doctrine be true, and the writer has yet to see anything stronger 
than bald assertion to refute it, what becomes of the absurd 
charge that the President has abused his powers by enlarging 
the " scope " of the war? The object of the war was to turn 
Spain out of Cuba ; its scope was such as the President, in the 
application of his judgment and conscience to his constitutional 
prerogative, saw fit, as equally with Congress clothed with the 
majestas of 4< we, the People of the United States," to make 
and wage it. As a matter of international law, the authorities, 
from Glenn up through the profound and learned list, are prac- 
tically a unit in laying down the proposition that " the cause 
for which a war is commenced is not the limit of the objects 
or ends of the successful belligerent at the close of hostilities. 
Victory carries with it certain new rights. The expenses of 
carrying on a war are extremely large, in money, men, and 
sacrifices in many other ways. The war itself gives rise to 
changed conditions, so that to limit the victorious state to the 
accomplishment of the exact purpose named at the commence- 
ment of hostilities may not give a sufficient guaranty that 
peace can be maintained in the future." 

It is cheerfully admitted that the principles of our free Re- 
public do not admit of our waging war for purposes of conquest, 
and thanks be to God that this is so ; but this does not inhibit 
the executive from demanding the cession of territory as the 
condition of peace, that our citizens may be indemnified for the 
losses they have sustained, and that our government may be 
reimbursed for the expenses of the war ; and beyond this, we 
have the same international right as any other sovereign state 
to acquire territory by conquest, by treaty, and by cession. 

THE UTTERANCES OF THE SUPREME COURT. 
Prescinding from assertion and argument, and invoking the 



552 ANNEXATION, " THE OPEN DOOR;' [Jan., 

potent voice of authority, let us compare certain utterances of 
the Supreme Court of the United States with the principles 
above laid down. In the case of Fleming vs. Page, 50 U. S. 
615, the court says: "A war, therefore, declared by Congress, 
cannot be presumed to be waged for the purpose of conquest 
or the acquisition of territory ; nor does the law declaring war 
imply an authority to the President to enlarge the limits of the 
United States by subjugating the enemy's country. The United 
States, it is true, may extend its boundaries by conquest or 
treaty, and may demand the cession of territory as the condi- 
tion of peace, in order to indemnify its citizens for the injuries 
they have suffered, or to reimburse the government for the ex- 
penses of the war. But this can be~ done only by the treaty- 
making power or the legislative authority, and it is not a part 
of the authority conferred upon the President by the declara- 
tion of war. His duty and his powers are purely military, 
He may invade the hostile country and subject it to the sov- 
ereignty and authority of the United States. But his conquests 
do not enlarge the boundaries of this Union, nor extend the 
operation of our institutions and laws beyond the limits before 
assigned to them by the legislative power." 

In the case of the Mormon Church vs. The United States, 
136 U. S. I, the court says: "The power to acquire territory, 
other than the territory north-west of the Ohio River (which 
belonged to the United States at the adoption of the Constitu- 
tion), is derived from the treaty-making power, and the power 
to declare and carry on war. The incidents of these powers 
are those of national sovereignty, and belong to all independent 
governments. The power to make acquisitions of territory by 
conquest, by treaty, and by cession is an incident of national 
sovereignty." 

And so, by the voice of supreme authority, the thesis that 
the President had no constitutional right to wage more war 
than sufficed to expel Spain from Cuba, or to demand the ces- 
sion of Porto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines, as a condition 
of peace, is rent " from turret to foundation stone." 

THE " OPEN DOOR " IN THE PHILIPPINES. 

This brings us to the second thesis of the opponents of the 
treaty, which is : " It is contrary to the supreme law of the land 
to stipulate in the treaty a guaranty of the ' open door ' in the 
Philippines, because the Constitution says, Art. I., sec. 8 : * All 
duties, imposts, and excises shall be uniform throughout the 
United States.' " 



1899-] AND THE CONSTITUTION. 553 

This thesis we hold to be, if possible, more untenable than 
the former, involving, as it does, not only a false conception oi 
the terminology of the Constitution itself, but a failure to com- 
prehend the difference between grants of limited and of plenary 
powers. Here, fortunately for the patience of the reader, the 
language of the Supreme Court itself more than suffices to ex- 
ploit the theory advanced. 

There is a vast difference underlying the terminology of the 
Constitution in the use of the words, " United States of Amer- 
ica," as applied to our entire geographical dominion, and the 
words " United States," as referring to a political entity. When 
the Constitution speaks of the " United States of America," in 
the territorial sense, it includes all the portions of the earth's 
surface, land and water, subject to our sovereignty and covered 
by the flag ; when it speaks of the United States as a politi- 
cal entity, it means that union of co-equal and interdependent 
States in which alone the larger political unit, the " Bundes- 
staat," exists ; and this totally irrespective of any geographical 
possessions belonging to the Union, beyond seas or within our 
home " ring fence " lying outside and beyond the geographical 
limits of the States comprising the " Bund." In other words, 
the constitutional provision securing uniformity of duties, im- 
posts, and excises throughout the United States means, and 
was intended to mean, simply that the same shall always be 
alike in all the States, and between the States comprised in 
the Union ; and in nowise conflicts with or trenches upon the 
plenary power granted to Congress, Art. IV., sec. 3, " to dis- 
pose of and make all needful rules and regulations respecting 
the territory or other property belonging to the United States. 
(Italics are the writer's.) If there were any reasonable doubt of 
this, the language of the Supreme Court in the case of Texas vs. 
White, 7 Wall. 721, defining the meaning of the political 
entity " The United States," combined with the subjoined short 
quotation from Lalor's Encyclopedia of Political Science, would 
solve the difficulty. Lack of space prevents quoting the lan- 
guage of the court in Texas vs. White, the policy of the 
"open door" being amply provided for in another case; but 
the language of Lalor, showing the conditions existing at the 
time the Constitution was adopted, against the evils of which the 
" Articles of Confederation " of the previously existing " Staaten- 
bund " were inefficient, is apposite and instructive. Speaking 
of the conditions existing subsequent to the peace and prior to 
the Constitution, Lalor says : " On the return of peace, while 
still maintaining the form of a confederacy, the States, no longer 



554 ANNEXATION, " THE OPEN DOOR;' [Jan., 

united by a common danger, became, to a great extent, inde- 
pendent, and each managed its concerns with little regard to 
the interests of the others. Massachusetts had a navigation 
act, and levied impost duties, and other States followed her ex- 
ample. The restrictions and prohibitions imposed on American 
commerce were vexatious and destructive." To state the case 
in other words : Massachusetts, followed by other States, had 
interposed against interstate commerce the " closed door " of a 
restrictive and prohibitive tariff ; and it was to afford a remedy 
for this " intolerable condition " that the constitutional limita- 
tion, " but all duties, imposts, and excises shall be uniform 
throughout the United States," was enacted. Again prescind- 
ing from assertion and argument, and employing the authorita- 
tive language of the Supreme Court, so far from finding any- 
thing to inhibit the grant to Spain of equal trade and tariff 
privileges in the Philippines, or to preclude us from applying 
there the policy of the " open door " to the fullest extent, we 
observe the court lay down and establish the following propo- 
sitions, viz.: 

THREE PROPOSITIONS OF CONSTITUTIONAL LAW. 

(1) That the treaty-making power, the President with the 
" advice and consent " of the Senate, in providing for the ac- 
quisition of territory by cession, may, in its discretion, grant to 
foreign states and citizens the same tariff and trade privileges 
within the bounds of such territory as are accorded to our own 
citizens ; that this was actually done on the acquisition of 
Louisiana from France, Florida from Spain, and California, 
New Mexico, etc., from Mexico, and that the uniform practice 
of the political departments of the government in this regard 
has always been upheld by the courts. 

(2) That enemy's country, acquired by conquest, does not 
become territory of the United States, as to our own internal 
organization, until its acquisition is confirmed by treaty or by 
legislative action of Congress ; that, in the meantime, and until 
such action is taken, it remains foreign territory, as to our 
municipal institutions, but as to foreign states, is territory under 
the exclusive sovereignty of the United States, to be governed, 
as to property and the territorial inhabitants, by the President ; 
and in conformity with its former municipal law, together with 
such regulations as the President may prescribe. 

(3) That foreign territory, acquired by conquest or cession, 
even after it has actually become territory of the United States 
of America, by treaty or by act of Congress, still remains 



1899-] AND THE CONSTITUTION. 555 

foreign territory as to the Revenue Laws of the United States, 
and can only be included within them by an explicit Lex, passed 
by Congress for that purpose, in the exercise of its plenary 
power over the territory. 

Those three propositions of constitutional law are laid down 
by the Supreme Court in the case of Fleming vs. Page above 
cited ; and would seem, to say the least, to show the fallacy of 
the constitutional objection raised against the " open door " 
clause of the treaty. , As to its policy, the " statesmen," " sena- 
tors," and clergymen now have the floor ; but the treaty will 
not fail, for it has behind it the common-sense public opinion 
of a "strong" if not exactly "turbulent" people. 

A COLONIAL POLICY. 

The last constitutional thesis urged against the ratification 
of the treaty is that, under our present Constitution, we cannot 
acquire territory to be held as a colony, to be governed by 
Congress at its will and pleasure ; but only with a view to its 
subsequent admission into the Union as a State. Here, at last, 
there is a dictum of the Supreme Court directly in point, to be 
found in the celebrated case of Dred Scott vs. Sanford, 19 
How. 393 ; but that dictum was purely obiter ; not necessary to 
the decision of the case ; not in line with the case of the 
American Insurance Company vs. Canter, I Pet. 511, previously 
decided ; and flatly contradicted by the case of the Mormon 
Church vs. U. S., above cited, decided in 1889, years after the 
Dred Scott case had been overruled by " the legislation of 
war." It would thus appear that the Supreme Court is not 
with the constitutional objectors. 

As to the last objection, the thesis that, by acquiring terri- 
tory in the Pacific Ocean, which laves our western border and 
nowhere touches Europe, it seems brash and trivial. Reduced 
to a few words, the Monroe Doctrine is that we will neither 
permit further European acquisitions of American soil, nor 
European oppression of American states ; and that we will 
abstain from intermeddling in the quarrels of Europe. 

It nowhere commits us, explicitly or implicitly, to remain 
shivering upon the shores of the Pacific Ocean, or to surrender 
Asiatic trade to Europe. We were the first power to establish 
the "open door" of trade in Asia; and, "standing with re- 
luctant feet, where the brook and river meet," we will be the 
last to abandon it. If, for this, we need to keep the Philip- 
pines, the Philippines we will keep. 



556 



HYMNS TO ST. AGNES. 



[Jan., 



I?YMNS TO ST. flGNBS. 

THE praises of the young Roman maiden and martyr, Agnes, 
have been a theme for the highest classic poetry. The 
poems printed herewith are taken from the Paris Breviary, and 
are from the pen of Charles Coffin, who was born near Rheims 
in the year 1677. He was elected Rector of the University of 
Paris in 1718 and died in 1749. The Paris Breviary was published 
in 1736 and many of the new hymns are of his composition. 

The beautiful hymns to St. Agnes are now for the first 
time done into English. St. Agnes, whose feast the church 
celebrates on the 2ist of the current month, has been honored 
as a type of character which reflects the highest spiritual purity 
in the midst of the allurements of wealth and noble birth in a 
degraded social order. She was a grain of gold shining in the 
midst of pagan corruption. 

The translations have been made by a noted Redemptorist 
missionary. EDITOR CATHOLIC WORLD. 



AD MATUTINUM. 

NON stat firma satis tutaque virtus, 
Quae non est variis acta procellis ; 
Dum saevi quatitur turbine venti, 
Hinc discit tumidos vincere fluctus. 

Infanti teneras forma fidesque 
Diversi generis su-scitat hostes ; 
Tentat blanditiis ardor amantum ; 
Terret suppliciis ira Tyranni. 

Hostem-fortis amor vincet utrumque, 
Alter spondet spes, spondet honores ; 
Sponsi sed placuit cui decor Agni, 
Hinc terrena placet nulla voluntas. 

Alter sacrilegas trudit ad aras, 
Intentatque minas, verbera, mortem ; 

Sed tormenta tibi quot nova promit, 

Tot nectit capiti, Virgo, coronas. 

Durat supplicium magus ; honori 
(Quid non impietas, iraque suadent ?) 
Probrum virgineo turpe paratur, 
Quod toto redimat sanguine virgo. 



AT MATINS. 

No virtue is or safe or strong, 
Unless by various storm-blasts tried ; 
When fiercely buffeted and long, 
It learns o'er swelling waves to ride. 

Her features and her faith excite 
Against a child of infant years, 
Foes many ; tyrants in their might 
And suitors strive to rouse her fears. 

Her strong love both these foes o'ercame ; 
One raised her hopes ; one promised state. 
No earthly pleasures can inflame 
A heart which Lamb's charms captivate. 

On to the sacrilegious shrine 

They drive her; threats, blows, death in 

vain 
Are tried. Fair maid ! what crowns they 

twine 
To deck thy brow, by each new pain ! 

What will not wicked anger dare ? 
One punishment is wanting more ; 
Dishonor, for her, they prepare. 
By blood she'll be its conqueror. 






1 8 9 9-] 



HYMNS TO ST. AGNES. 



557 



Eheu ! quid faceret ? lumina coelo 
Attollitque manus ; flammea victrix 
Frangit tela fides ; seque libido 
Calcatam propria frendet in arce. 

Sit laus Ingenito summa Parenti ; 
Sit par Unigenas gloria Nato ; 
Quo sexus fragilis dante triumphat, 
Amborum simili laus sit Amori. 



What can she ? Eyes and hands as well 
She raised, victorious o'er the fire, 
By faith ; whilst on its citadel, 
Baffled and wild, sat Foul Desire. 

Praise to the Unborn Parent High ; 
Praise to the One Begotten Son ; 
Praise to the Love of each One, by 
Whose strength the frail sex crowns 
hath won. 



AD PRIMAS VESPERAS. 

Humana quid non pectora, si faves 
O Christe, possunt ? Auspice te, truces 
Imbellis iras, atque dulces 
Illecebras superat puella. 

Infirma mundi scilicet eligis, 

Ut conterantur fortia ; nobilis 
Hinc venit Agneti cruentas 
Mille neces domitura virtus. 

Formae decorem pulchrior aspici, 
Vincebat oris virgineus pudor ; 
Primisque pectus quae tenellum 
Imbuerat pietas ab annis. 

Contenta Sponso, quern sibi destinat, 
Placere Christo, se latebris tegit ; 
Timetque mortales caduca 
Ne species oculos moretur. 

Prodit latentem fama tamen ; proci 
Arsere plures ; multa sibi nurum 
Aptavit, et flagrante mater 
Quaesiit ambitiosa voto. 

Ast ilia, sancti propositi tenax, 
Preces amantum respuit ; et Tibi 
Se, Christe, totam peretat uni 
Perpetuo sociare pacto. 

Laus summa Patri, summaque Filio ; 
Sit Sancte compar laus Tibi, Spiritus, 
Quo flante puras caritatis 
Concipiunt pia corda flammas. 



AT FIRST VESPERS. 

What will not human hearts endure 
If thou, O Christ, giv'st help ? A maid 
Unarmed o'ercomes whate'er can lure, 
And cruel anger, by thine aid. 

Earth's weakness thou dost choose, in 

truth, 

To crush the strong. Hence noble power 
To Agnes comes, who scorned, in youth, 
A thousand threats to make her cower. 

Her feature's virgin modesty 
And piety which, in her breast, 
Had dwelt from tend'rest infancy, 
Surpassed her outward fairness best. 

Content her chosen Spouse to please 
Herself she hid in secret nook, 
Lest perishable beauty seize 
In bondage eyes that on her look. 

Yet fame the hidden one betrayed 
And many wooers ardent glowed ; 
Whilst nurse and mother, too, essayed 
To hold her back by cares bestowed. 

But, firm in holy purpose, she 
Rejected lover's pleadings fond ; 
Wishing with Christ alone to be 
United by perpetual bond. 

Praise to the Father and the Son ; 
Praise equal to the Holy Ghost, 
By whose inspiring breath upon 
Men's hearts, love's flames are kindled 

most. 
September, 1894. T. S., C.SS.R. 

NOTE. Hymni sacriauctore Carolo Coffin Ant. Universitatis Parisiensis Rectore Collegii 
Dormana-Bellovaci. Gymnasiarcha. 1736. 




The Persecution of the English Catholics * in the 
reign of Charles II. is a work intended for French 
Catholics, and, though not a large one, it is the best 
account for the general reader we have seen, whether 
we regard its fidelity or the brilliancy of the au- 
thor's manner. The sketches of character are bold and strik- 
ing, but ^without any sign of being labored. We notice this 
particularly in the case of Titus Gates. It is seldom we have 
seen a picture of his moral qualities separated from one of his 
personal appearance. We shall give the reader what Madame 
de Courson says of him : " Shaftesbury wanted an instrument 
to aid his design of destroying the Catholics by involving them 
in a plot, and this instrument he found in Titus Gates. Gates' 
father was at one time an Anabaptist minister, at another time 
a minister in the English Church. His son followed the same 
path. At the close of his course in Cambridge he took orders 
in the Established Church, but his misconduct caused his expul- 
sion from one appointment after another. In the long reaches 
of history men appear whose baseness is without a single re- 
deeming quality. They are the monsters of the moral world 
whose existence terrifies us. ... Such an one was Titus 
Gates, a hypocrite with an imagination fearfully fertile, who 
brought to the ruin of his victims hatred served by an untiring 
will." 

Very interesting are her little details of the secret places in 
manor and farm-house where priests lay concealed, and the sacred 
vessels and vestments were hidden. One or two words and we 
enter a cachette in the thickness of the wails. At Lydiate Hall 
in Lancashire, in 1863, one was discovered in which were the 
remains of a meal. In the same house is preserved a pewter 
chalice lined with silver gilt a souvenir of those evil days. In 
a farm-house of the neighborhood there was another hiding- 
place. In it were a chair and a Book of the Hours. In the 

* La Persecution des Catholiques en Angleterre. Par la Comtesse de Courson. Paris : 
Firmin Didot et Cie. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 559 

house of the Throckmortons there were several hiding-places, in 
one of which the discoverers came upon an altar-stone. Under 
the roof of Sawston Hall, the seat of the Huddlestons, the 
hiding-place was large enough to contain a chair and table. 
This was, however, rare, and the hunted priests must have 
served a hard penance during days, nights, even months, in 
such refuges. They were seldom visited by their hosts, lest 
attention should be attracted ; no unlikely thing, for the hunt- 
ing of priests was carried on with as much vigor in the reign 
of Charles II. as in that of Elizabeth. Twenty livres (one hun- 
dred dollars) for a secular priest's arrest, five hundred dollars 
for that of a Jesuit, were fairly stimulating prizes to the hunts- 
men. We part with this book with regret. Madame de Cour- 
son has placed Catholics under a de'p obligation in telling so 
much of the story of their predecessors, and telling it so well. 
It is with perfect truth she declares that it is impossible to 
see more clearly than in the events of which she treats the 
lengths of cruelty and injustice to which religious fanaticism 
can urge a people. In these acts the grotesque and the horrible 
are in rivalry. One would know not where to turn were it not 
that " above the dark abyss shine examples of heroism to sus- 
tain and inspire the soul." We hope soon to see an English 
translation of this admirable book. 

Oxford Conferences, by Joseph Rickaby, S.J.* There are 
eight conferences in this little volume, delivered by Father 
Rickaby at Oxford during the Lent term of 1898. One is on 
the word " proselytism," a sufficiently learned talk about the 
use and abuse of the word. There is a suggestive conference 
on witchcraft which we think will repay the reader ; not, how- 
ever, for instances of witchcraft, for there are none given, but 
because the matter is treated so as to serve as an example 
of what he calls " the subjective method of proof." The con- 
ferences are all directed to impress upon the hearers the 
principle of dogmatic religion. Prepared for young men who 
are to take a leading place in Catholic society, they must be 
useful to American Catholics in close intercourse with non- 
Catholics, for they will help to preserve clear and well-defined 
opinions on those questions about which they might become 
lax from such intercourse. In the two which are named, re- 
spectively, " Four London Professors " (the fourth) and " Three 
most London Professors" (the fifth), there is a good deal of 

* London : Burns & Gates ; New York : Bengizer Bros. 



560 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan., 

humor mingled with the wisdom with which he treats the title 
to be listened to of those who deny that God has spoken to 
man. He follows out the subject by the aid of what St. Igna- 
tius calls " a composition of place," and the names of the 
seven professors of an imaginary university suggest their de- 
partments in the branches of rationalistic culture. As he him- 
self says, they remind one of the names of the members of 
the Barebones Parliament. Ridicule is a legitimate weapon 
when used within the limits of good breeding, and Father 
Rickaby never passes them. A good specimen of his manner 
is the report of his conversation with Mr. No-Suspension-of- 
Critical-Faculties, whose position, as one might infer, is that 
the critical faculties are paramount ; and that a man's inaliena- 
ble privilege is to judge fcr himself in all things. It is a little 
awkward, undoubtedly, that in actual life 'people are continu- 
ally called upon for a suspension of their critical faculties, but 
for the gentlemen of the Higher Criticism this goes for nothing. 
We suppose men are wrong in consulting lawyers on matters 
of law, and doctors about their ailments. We fear the fools 
will do so to the end, in spite of the inalienable privilege to 
judge for themselves in all things. 

Antigone and other Portraits of Women, by Paul Bourget.* 
There are in all six sketches of women whom the writer has 
met in his travels, the characteristics of the women supposed 
to be revealed by the circumstances under which he saw them. 
They are taken from life, he first implies with the force of sug- 
gestion which is barely short of direct statement. As a man 
without saying a word may act in such a manner as to tell 
you that A is B, so M. Bourget, in his little preface, asks us 
to believe that as he looks over manuscript volumes of his 
travels innumerable human silhouettes take life for him across 
the pages the faces of women seen for a week, a day, an hour, 
the romance of whose lives he divined (or perhaps imagined, he 
adds) from some sudden incident of travel. Then he tells us 
positively that these sketches, to which he has given the common 
title of Voyageuses, are portraits of women he had met casually ; 
for once they crossed his path, never again to meet him. Ex- 
cept for the setting, there is nothing to recommend the por- 
traits. A circumstance is well presented, a view of sea or land 
is before us as the scene stood in his imagination, whether it 
be the island of Corfu or the coast around as the boat goes 

* New York : Charles Scribner's Sons. 



.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 561 

out from Toulon, or the wastes seen from the window of a rail- 
way carriage on the line from Dublin to Galway ; but we can- 
not discover in the women spoken of any life, any reality but 
that of the writer's words. There are incidents in the first 
sketch, " Antigone," which are really interesting, and better than 
these are traits of character leading the imagination to the de- 
sired point. This is a revelation of character worked out with 
consummate skill, but the traits are not in the sketch of the 
" voyageuse," but in those of the deceived Cypriote, the con- 
scienceless Frenchman. Antigone's belief in the clay-footed idol, 
her brother, has perhaps a thousand counterparts in real life, 
but it has no more connection ^with what, for want of a better 
term, we call the sub-tragic interest of the piece than if she 
had not appeared at all. It may be the plausible explanation 
of the old Cypriote's magnanimity in not exposing her brother, 
but if the conception of the former's character which the writer 
had formed was dramatically true, there was no necessity to use 
it as a determining influence. " Two Married Couples " is 
clever, but if it be a picture of American civilization there is 
every reason to dread some terrible calamity. From that sketch 
it would appear as though American society has become rotten 
while yet unripe. There is what purports to be an experience 
in Ireland on which we can hardly congratulate the writer for 
his perception of the qualities of the people. He could have 
obtained his estimate of them from the Times, as he could have 
taken his view of a first-class Dublin hotel from Thackeray. 
He was driven to the park "almost the day after" the murder 
of Lord F. Cavendish and Mr. Burke. This it appears was in 
the month of July, but in that other kind of romance* called 
exact history the murder took place on the 6th of May. In 
the sketch called " La Pia " M. Bourget displays all his powers, 
which are undoubtedly of a high order ; but we think it would 
have been in better taste not to use the term Apocrypha for 
the deuterocanonical books ; and indeed 
better taste, better knowledge. He does 
well informed as the High-Church Protestai 
century in England, who spoke of those bl 
the " holy " Apocrypha sad compromise b< 
for antiquity and their dread of the thorough^ 

In the San Juan, by Rev. J. J. Gibbons. This little book 
contains twelve chapters. It is entitled sketches, and each 
chapter is a sketch of adventures and experiences of a priest 




562 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan., 

in Colorado whose parish was as large as a dozen German princi- 
palities of the days before Prussian hegemony. The author has 
an energetic style, he tells his personal adventures with animation, 
and though his descriptions of the scenery in which he experi- 
enced them are somewhat marred by a fondness for epithets, 
they are by no means without effect. It requires exceptional 
skill when giving a picture of savage mountains, their defiles 
and torrents, to produce upon the mind the impression of the 
sublime. There is always the danger of lapsing into the melo- 
dramatic ; and when this happens the reader only hears the 
noise of stage machinery, instead of the thunder of the moun- 
tain when snow-slides go down. The work of a missionary 
priest in such regions demands a courage, devotion, and physi- 
cal strength of no common kind. At a moment's notice he is 
summoned to attend a dying man fifty miles away, and to reach 
him must accomplish a journey attended with as much danger 
as crossing the Alps in ancient times. A false step, the miss- 
ing a narrow track obscured by a recent fall of snow, and 
horse and rider go down a couple of thousand feet. Living 
amid those scenes, it would seem, has for the most part an ele- 
vating effect on character. The miners are bold, fair-minded 
men with a dash of recklessness, but a sense of religion too. 
This is notably the case with Catholics, but it is not confined 
to them. The greatness of the works of God and the little- 
ness of man, his powerlessness in the midst of them, cast upon 
the spirit a certain solidity and seriousness; and these seem 
largely to be characteristic of the miner and the fixed dweller 
in the Colorado mountains. It is true when the miners descend 
to the towns for a short time they behave very much like 
soldiers on furlough after a campaign in which there had been 
much plunder, or sailors with leave of absence and pockets 
filled with prize-money ; but there is the difference between the 
first and the soldier and sailor that there is between the tem- 
porary recklessness of subjective compensation and the folly 
of improvidence, aimless and characterless, which so often mark 
the soldier and almost always the sailor. 

And these miners and mountain-men are frequently so per- 
vaded by the sense of religion, they like to serve the altar, to 
take care of the vestments, to make things ready for the com- 
ing of the priest to celebrate the Holy Mass, to hear confes- 
sions, to administer the Holy Sacrament. When he comes they 
throng to be present, and with them strong, earnest men not 
of the household, but possibly sooner or later to be. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 563 

Some very narrow escapes of himself and others, when pass- 
ing from place to place, are cleverly described by Father Gib- 
bons ; he has to tell of fatal accidents, and he startles you ; he 
gives one or two examples of the kind flippantly called shock- 
ing, and you fear there is a too Pelion-on-Ossa-like piling on 
of the agony. The book is, for all we have said, an interesting 
and instructive one. 

It is good to know that a people's vade mecurn, as Father 
Klauder's Catholic Practice* might well be called, has met with 
so hearty a reception by the book-buying public. After all, 
priests and people are keen to recognize a good thing when 
they see it. There is a kind of medicine which has undoubtedly 
some curative properties, and is being very extensively adver- 
tised nowadays because it is owned by an advertising agency. It 
combines eight or ten of the staple specifics, and it is a rare 
malady that some of these will not strike. One might call this 
" shot-gun doctoring." Aim it anywhere near a disease, it is 
sure to hit. But the point we want to make is, it is good to 
have a handy little manual which will contain instructions for 
one in all his religious duties. We have looked through Father 
Klauder's book, and find it accurate and ample in detail as well 
as practical and simple in statement. It is a fault of book- 
making not to state where a book sells. This book is printed 
at the Angel Guardian Press, Boston ; but who publishes it ? 
We are quite sure that many priests would be glad to use the 
book in quantities, but it is not evident where it can be 
obtained. This is one difficulty in attempting to do away with 
the regular publishers. 

In his academic retreat at the Catholic University of Wash- 
ington Mr. Egan still finds opportunity to gratify old friends 
by an occasional publication. How thankful we are that his 
ambitions are not centred exclusively on comparative philology, 
history of authors, philosophy of style, and kindred topics 
magnificent enough for the curriculum of a great university. 

At present we welcome these two new books \ as especially 
suitable for the new generation that is being drilled in the 
study of distinctively Catholic literature. The first work men- 
tioned above will afford our lively boys all the excitement and 

* Catholic Practice at Church and at Home. The Parishioner's Little Rule Book : A 
guide for Catholics in the external practice of their religion. By Alexander L. A. Klauder. 

f/ a Brazilian Forest, and Three Brave Boys. The Leopard of Lancianus, and other 
Stories. By Maurice Francis Egan. Philadelphia : H. L. Kilner & Co. 
VOL. LXVIII. 36 



564 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan., 

adventure they could ask for. We can smile at their enthu- 
siastic study of camps, and brigands, and rifle-wounds, secure 
in the consciousness that they will finish their reading uncon- 
taminated by vulgarism or sensational silliness. 

The second volume made up of short stories likewise is 
sure to afford safe and instructive recreation for our young 
readers. We note with joy that reports from Washington tell 
of efforts on Mr. Egan's part successful ones, too toward stir- 
ring up love of composition and literary ambition in his disci- 
ples. The books before us will give an idea of what is needed, 
and many a youth's magazine will supply an outlet for aspiring 
genius. 

Mrs. Markhams Nieces is a story particularly suited for con- 
verts,* and most particularly for converts or eligibles of 
English birth and sympathies. It is quiet, unexaggerated, not 
grave enough to be heavy, not light enough to be frivolous. 
What is good about it is, that it views Calvinism through eyes 
accustomed to viewing that subject. Shall we be forgiven by 
the lady if we say there is a little excess in the use of foreign 
phrases? the slight attempt at French accent might be omitted 
without doing any harm. On page 101, line 4, there is a mis- 
print. 

The name of the author of Winchester f will doubtless attract 
many a reader who has been charmed by other work of his in 
magazine and lecture hall. They will find the story a simple 
tale of thrilling interest, well written, of course, in the quaint old 
English of the time, but with rather too gruesome an ending. 
A pleasant story for the reading of old and young, the book 
would nevertheless have had greater hold upon New-Yorkers 
had the writer worked more carefully upon topography and 
local coloring. Like so many of our books, too, this would be 
more acceptable at a lower price. 

It is a pity that the author of A Corner of Spain % was not 
in good health when her book of travel was written. It abounds 
in the appreciation so necessary to extract from a journey in 
strange lands the flavor of its people, its scenery, and its en- 
joyments. 

* Mrs. Markhanfs Nieces. By Francis I. Kershaw. New York : Benziger Brothers. 

t Westchester : A Tale of the Revolution. By Henry Austin Adams, M.A. St. Louis: 
B. Herder. 

%A Corner of Spain. By Miriam Coles Harris. Boston and New York : Houghton, Mif- 
flin & Co. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 565 

There is cast over the book, in spite of the bits of humor 
which the author occasionally displays, a sombreness of impres- 
sion that without doubt is due to the partially invalid state of 
the traveller. If these same scenes could have been viewed in 
a condition of bounding health the descriptions would dance 
from cover to cover. As it is, there is so much to enjoy, so 
much to learn, and so much to desire outlined in these pages, 
that whatever its drawbacks they are small compared to the 
many charms presented. It is a book especially appropriate to 
the aftermath period of the war with Spain just concluded, 
inasmuch as it portrays many aspects of Spanish character 
highly admirable and not at all credited in the United States 
at present. It is a book to be loaned to your doubting friend 
who thinks the Spanish a partly barbarous and wholly unlova- 
ble people. In this regard it is a pity that the author falls into 
the prevailing Anglo-Saxon habit of patronizing and pitying the 
frugal-living races of whatever creed which habit of condescend- 
ing comment partly spoils the general tone of praise which 
she expresses in nearly every page of the book. Despite 
this, the sterling virtue and hospitality of the Spaniard shine 
out finely, and the Catholic Church, wherever the author re- 
gards it, has more beauty and love than she can find expres- 
sions to convey. This is a good book to circulate, to increase 
especially the respect which Americans should have, but have 
not, for the Catholic religion in old Andalusia. 

The thread of the story carries the reader through a dis- 
agreeable and stormy voyage from New York to Gibraltar; 
thence into the soft airs of Malaga, where, as the author shows, 
the famous Malaga grapes are not grown though the destruc- 
tion of this household tradition is more than compensated for 
by the knowledge of Malaga's balmy climate, which only varies 
five degrees in eight months of the year. The writer, who was 
an Anglican when the volume was written though since has 
become a Catholic gives so sympathetic a description of Span- 
ish convent life in chapter v. that her Catholic tendencies 
seem already full blown. A coach ride and short sojourn in 
the Malaga mountains is one of the strongest dramatic touches 
of the book, and reminds one of frontier sketches in the early 
days of our own country. In this chapter she describes the 
rough mountaineers in the following words, which deserve wide 
circulation in America : " I shall always think our prejudice 
against the Spanish is based on their physical differences from 
us. We mislike them for their complexion, which is swarthy, 



566 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan., 

and for their features, which are forbidding. They are the 
kindest people in the world ; and as honest as, nous autres. I 
have never been cheated by a tradesman in Spain, I have never 
been uncivilly treated by one." 



I. A JESUIT POET.* 

Father Barraud possesses a good deal of the poet's art and 
something of the poet's spirit. The first lay of the book is 
"Joubert's Banquet," and it opens the ball so well that we gave our- 
selves up to the anticipation of an hour's revelry in fairy-land. To 
some extent we were disappointed. The six lays of the Knights 
are upon the whole good ; they are succeeded by four " Lays of 
Greece." These too are good ; and next we have sonnets. 
There is a temptation to try this species of verse. The restric- 
tion of the rules governing the sonnet are favorable to conden- 
sation ; but, on the other hand, when we see one we look for 
excellence. We do not get this always in Father Barraud's 
sonnets ; we see how much they are wanting in the sweetness, 
harmony, and strength of Shakspere's and Coleridge's. Byron, 
with a power expressly adapted to this species of composition, 
seems, from what we have heard, to have avoided it from an 
experience of the difficulty of satisfying critical demands. His 
sonnet of Chillon is very fine ; but though we cannot call it 
an accidental hit, its existence is suggestive of the trial ex- 
pressed by "sufficient for the day." 

" Joubert's Banquet," though we admire it, is marred by the 
length to which actions and incidents are drawn out that ought 
to be disposed of in a line or so. Take " Chevy Chase " as the 
model of the ballad, and we see the difference. In the admira- 
ble " Lays of Ancient Rome," by Macaulay, there is something 
of the defect we have pointed out in " Joubert's Banquet," and 
the other ballads in the book before us. It would seem as if 
Macaulay and Father Barraud found themselves hard pressed 
for a rhyme, and to find it they led us into a jungle of words. 
This was the fault attributed, rather unjustly, to poor Keats by 
"the savage and tartarly " f that killed him. 

We have the attack upon the fortress in which Joubert was 

* Lays of the Knights. By Clement William Barraud, S.J. New York: Longmans, 
Green & Co. 

t Who killed John Keats ? 
" I," said the " Quarterly," 
Savage and tartarly 
'I killed John Keats!" 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 567 

dying of his wounds, the assault on one day similar to that up- 
on another during a fortnight. We are told with propriety 
that for 

" Two long weeks they held the fortress 
As a lion holds his lair"; 

but the effect is spoiled by the next couplet, which is surplus- 
age when a new incident is not introduced to give vivid per- 
ception. It is as follows : 

" Sallied thrice on their assailants, 
Daring all that men could dare." 

We were already aware they had been " daring all that men 
could dare," and the three sallies might be in keeping if it 
were an historical narrative ; but coming in a ballad at a point 
where the imagination is waiting for a stroke that finishes the 
matter there and then, or sets it ablaze with some unlooked- 
for deed of heroism, it seems very weak. The fight goes on, 
however. 

" But the odds were all against them, 
And those gaping, tottering walls 
Rocked and swayed as if to crush them 
' 'Neath the shock of ponderous balls." 

What are we to say to this last line ? What to the second ? 
Suppose we say, that once upon a time a poet submitted his 
blank verse for the opinion of a friend. u Can you not turn it 
into rhyme ? " the friend asked. " Certainly," was the reply ; 
and having done so, showed the rhymed version. " Ha ! now," 
said the critic, " this is something : it is now rhyme ; before it 
was neither rhyme nor reason." The defenders were to be 
crushed by the walls, not "as if," but really; and the last line 
is obviously written for the rhyme. " Rocked and swayed 
'neath the shock of ponderous balls " is the uninterrupted 
thought. Why should not the result have been left to the 
reader's fancy ? " Germans are honest men," said mine host of 
the Garter, but he was mistaken. Does Father Barraud distrust 
the intelligence of his readers ? 

Among the miscellaneous poems are some which will entitle 
the writer to a good place among "the minor poets." This is 
no slight praise when we understand that so few are reckoned 
great poets. " Coventry Bells " has a touch of the grace of 
Tennyson's shorter poems, and he handles hexameters success- 
fully in verses dedicated to the memory of Pius IX. There is 



568 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan., 

a clever turn of humor and a rhythmical readiness of expres- 
sion in "The Building of Stonyhurst " which reminds us of Mor- 
timer Collins, but we shall not say what the quatrain called 
" Napoleon " recalls to us. It is forcible, however. " Never " 
and " Onward," though possessing merit, ought not to have been 
written until "Break! break! break!" ceases to be sighed over 
by tame cats of the Protestant divinity species and the girl 
graduates that affect them we use " affect " in Shakspere's 
sense. We, for all that, recognize in Father Barraud an ac- 
complished scholar, and, if not a dweller in the sacred grove, 
a hearer of its mysteries. 



2. LEGAL FORMULARIES.* 

In our opinion the principal title of the book before us 
should have been secondary, for the " legal formulary " is the 
smaller and relatively the least important part of the work. 

From what has just been said we do not wish to be under- 
stood as underrating the value of precise legal forms, the correct 
use of which is most pertinent for an exact understanding of 
the canonical relations of the subject with the superior, and for 
a clear apprehension of the extent and limitations of canonical 
jurisdiction and power. 

There can be no doubt that much misunderstanding, and 
consequently the possibility of much litigation, will be removed 
by a knowledge and use of the " legal formulary." 

But Father Baart's work is something more than a compila- 
tion of legal forms. It is, in fact, a series of concise treatises 
on points of canon law. And it is in this the unannounced 
and hence the unexpected that the book pleases us most. It 
is an addition and additions in this matter are desirable to 
the literature of the subject in its particular application to ex- 
isting conditions in this country. 

The work is divided into three parts, treating respectively of 
the diocese and of the rights and duties of the officials thereof ; 
of the parish and its administration in things spiritual and 
temporal ; and of justice in the exercise of discipline according 
to canonical procedure. 

It is not our purpose to do more than direct our readers' 

* Legal Formulary ; or, A Collection of Forms to be used in the Exercise of Voluntary 
and Contentions Jurisdiction. To which is added an epitome of the Laws, Decisions, and 
Instructions pertaining thereto. By the Rev. Peter A. Baart,A.M., S.T.L., etc. New York : 
Fr. Pustet & Co. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 569 

attention to the general topics discussed by Father Baart, as 
we believe that there is enough of importance and of interest 
in the subject matter existing to make the book well worth 
reading and studying, particularly in the second part, where the 
status of the parish in this country is considered. 

Father Baart will hardly find a single bishop, however, in 
agreement with him in his contention that all requisite condi- 
tions, save the perpetuity of the cure of souls, are present for 
the erection of canonical parishes amongst us, and hence, if we 
understand him correctly, that they exist as a fact. 

Even where the legislation of provincial synods seems to 
confirm his theory for example, in San Francisco as a fact 
the parishes are not there regarded as canonically erected 
either by the ordinary or by the rectors themselves, who neither 
assume the duties of parish priests using the words in a strict 
sense nor enjoy the jurisdiction of such. Although the 
" tametsi " has been published there, the presence ot any 
priest of the diocese suffices for the validity of marriage, the 
bishop being in this respect a parish priest, and his clergy 
rectors and assistants his curates. 

Again, with regard to the paschal Communion, the fact is 
that while a custom prevails, and is insisted upon in virtue of 
a synodal regulation, that the parish church is the proper 
church in which the Easter Communion should be received, 
still this is but a custom and is only a matter of regulation 
and good order, and nothing more. 

We have said enough, we think, to show how interesting 
a book Father Baart has contributed to the department of 
canon law in this latest work of his. 



3. A PASSIONIST POET.* 

This beautiful azure-and-gold-bound volume, the heart-wreath 
of a true Knight of Our Lady, is filled with devotional poems 
that are more easily read than described. Their perfect and 
polished versification appeals to the intellect. Their heart-chords 
of love set the human part of one's nature vibrating, and their 
pure, heavenly, daring aspirations lift the soul to a nearness 
to heaven, where the Queen of his song dwells. Father 

* Marice Corolla : A Wreath for Our Lady. By Father Edmund of the Heart of Mary, 
C.P. New York : Benziger Bros. 



5/o TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Jan. 

Edmund has told his story, too, in the pages of his Marice 
Corolla. They are the poems of his early days of conversion 
and fervor, of his young priesthood and earlier mission-life, 
and the warmth and glow of youth and chivalrous thought are 
impressed on every page. 

Some of the verses are the cry of the lover to his first love, 
and when we realize who this radiant Being is, we are stirred 
in our coldness and drift into the writer's fervor. What could 
be more beautiful than the lines in " Super omnes Speciosa ": 

" To set the music of thy face 

To earthly measure, were to give 
Th' informing soul and make it live 
As there God's uttermost of grace." 

Another poem to Our Lady, "To be Forgiven," is another 
and beautiful apostrophe. The same may be said of " Ideal 
Real " and " A Lesson." The word-pictures as well as the 
melodious songs in " The Espousals of Our Lady" have a 
dramatic ring that is delightful. The latter part of the book 
is for the most part composed of longer poems which, while 
finely chiselled and rounded, do not go to the heart as do those 
contained in the first eighty-four pages. All through, however, 
there is the one golden thread visible, through the meshes of 
varied metres the deep, tender, yet manly heart full of 
chivalrous, sacred love for the beautiful Mother of God's only 
Son ! We can close our review no better than by quoting 
Father Edmund's words on page 93. which describe his own 
thoughts better than could any reader : 

" I sing not for the many. Some there are 
With ears to hear, and hearts to love the more. 
But my ambition's height is, so to sing 
That I may one day meet my Lady's smile 
And wear a laurel from her own dear hands." 

Among the pure of heart, the devout, the gentle, and the 
lovers of Mary, Father Edmund's new book will be a choice 
friend. 




EXPANSIONISM but not imperialism is already 
an accom pli sne d policy that will be wrought out 
in the future history of America. It is good to 
hear all that the anti-imperialists have to say, for the danger 
is that "the powers that be," after being glutted by success, 
" may bite off more than they can chew." 



There is now a bright future before the church in the An- 
tilles and in the Philippines. The millstone of Spanish domi- 
nation has been cut away from the neck of the church. She 
can breathe the free air now, and we may look for a stalwart 
Catholicity. Given a fair field and no favor, the church will 
always prosper. 

" The baby that has been left on our doorstep " has now 
been adopted into the family. The papers have been signed 
and Spanish rights over the Philippines are at an end. The 
islands need a paternal government until the people are taught 
self-reliance and self-government. It may take some genera- 
tions to do so, but as an end to be attained this purpose must 
be kept steadily in view. 

The "open door" is good, but we want a closed door to 
the marauder, the carpet-bagger, the unscrupulous adventurer, 
as well as the whisky-seller. 



Many of the troubles of France to-day are an inheritance of 
the days of Gambetta. In spite of his Italian name, Gambetta 
was partly of Jewish extraction and, as was afterwards demon- 
strated, he was wholly of Jewish persuasion. Before his death, 
at a banquet given by the Rothschilds, when heated by wine, it 
is reported that he said that " The priest is the past, the Jew 
is the future." At his death it was found that the prefectures of 
forty-seven out of eighty departments were in the hands of the 
Jews. Since his death it is impossible to tell how far the army 
and other branches of the government are dominated by this 
influence. It does not take a very acute observer to see the 
long fingers of the money-changers tightening about the throat 
of the body politic. 



572 CATHOLIC OFFICERS IN [Jan., 



CATHOLIC OFFICERS IN THE ARMY AND THE 

NAVY. 



SENIOR LIEUTENANT JOHN F. LUBY, U.S.N. 

Lieutenant John F. Luby comes of a family of fighters. He 
is the second son of Thomas Clarke Luby, of Jersey City, N. 
J., one of the Fenian exiles and a writer of note on Irish 
history. Mr. Luby was born in Ireland on July 23, 1859, an< ^ 
came to this country with his parents in 1871. The family 
resided in New York City for a number of years, and the sons, 
James and John, entered the College of the City of New York. 
In 1875 Abram S. Hewitt, then congressman from the Tenth 
New York District, was given the privilege of filling a vacancy 
at the Annapolis Naval Academy, and he concluded to have a 
public competition for the place. The examination was con- 
ducted by General Alexander S. Webb, President of the New 
York College, and Professor Fitzgerald Tisdall. John F. Luby 
entered into the competition and carried off the prize with high 
honors. He graduated from the Naval Academy in 1880, and 
during the following two years he made a cruise with the 
Asiatic Squadron on board the Alert. He was on that vessel 
when, while off Kobe, she was run into by the Japanese 
emperor's yacht. Mr. Luby was in his bunk at the time of 
the collision, and with the rest of the crew instantly ran to his 
station, not knowing what was the trouble. He found his men 
already casting loose the guns and shifting them to the sound 
side of the ship, to " list " her so as to raise the injured side above 
the water-line. The lieutenant afterwards spoke in the highest 
terms of commendation of the bravery and promptness with 
which the American sailors covered their respective posts during 
the exciting incident, even before their officers could issue the 
necessary orders. At the end of the Asiatic cruise Mr. Luby 
was commissioned as ensign and assigned at different times to 
the European and training squadrons. He was later detailed to 
hydrographic work and the Coast Survey, and worked for several 
seasons on the survey of the Gulf coast near New Orleans and 
in the neighbDrhood of Newport. He became senior lieutenant 



THE ARMY AND THE NAVY. 



573 




SENIOR LIEUTENANT JOHN F. LUBY, U.S.N. 

in 1896. One of his recent assignments to duty was on the 
battle-ship Iowa, then commanded by Captain, now Admiral 
Sampson. Mr. Luby was one of the original corps of officers 
of the great ship, assisted in her trial trips, the drilling 
of her crew, and was in charge of the after turret. He was 
officer of the deck on the night when her electric steering 
gear broke down, as told in the newspapers at the time, and it 
was largely due to his presence of mind that a collision with 
one of the other ships of the squadron was averted. After he 



574 CATHOLICS IN THE ARMY AND THE NAVY. [Jan. 

had been some months on the Iowa, Lieutenant Luby was 
selected to accompany the Nicaragua Canal Commission on its 
recent visit of exploration. He was chosen for this important 
duty on account of his hydrographic training and experience 
in this line of work. The hydrographic party had completed 
about two-thirds of its work and had nearly completed the 
delineation of Nicaragua Lake when news was received of 
the war with Spain. The officers and men of the party at 
once cabled their request to be recalled for active service. 
In accord with their request* they were ordered home. Upon 
his arrival, Lieutenant Luby was sent to Norfolk to assist in 
fitting out the Yankton, a steam yacht which is classed as a 
torpedo-boat destroyer. He was shortly appointed executive 
officer. The Yankton was utilized in maintaining the blockade 
on the Cuban coast. He has performed the maximum sea duty 
for a man of his grade, about thirteen years. 

At the close of the war Mr. Luby was detached from the 
Yankton and ordered to shore duty in connection with the Train- 
ing Station at Newport, where he is at present located. 






THE 

CATHOLIC WORLD. 

VOL. LXVIII. FEBRUARY, 1899. No. 407. 

THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. 

BY REV. W. A. JONES (AUGUSTINIAN). 

ITH the treaty just concluded at Paris Spain has 
forfeited the last remnant of that vast colonial 
empire which for four centuries had extended 
into two hemispheres. By the irony of fate her 
disasters have culminated in the loss of the 
Philippine archipelago, whose conquest was the 
nation's crowning achievement in the golden era 
of her renown. When Magellan had roamed 
over two seas, to plant the banner of Castile 
and Leon upon these distant shores, the imperialism of Charles 
V. was at the zenith of its might. His son, Philip II., had 
effected a permanent settlement in these most remote posses- 
sions of the crown twenty-three years before his " Invincible 
Armada " was shattered by the fury of the English guns and 
of the Atlantic tides. 

It is not too much to say that Spain has in this eastern 
archipelago accomplished better results than have attended her 
flag in other colonies. During the three and a half centuries of 
her sovereignty the native barbarian hordes have been trans- 
formed into the most civilized people of the Orient. The 
great factor in achieving this marvellous transformation has 
been the Religious Orders, whose labors have of late been so 
bitterly reviled in the columns of the public press. In the 
bitterness of the present strife their fair name seems to be the 
shining mark against which are hurled the shafts of ignorance 
and prejudice. 

The general opprobrium attached to Spain's usual method 

Copyright. THE MISSIONARY SOCIETY OF ST. PAUL THE APOSTLE IN THE 

STATE OF NEW YORK. 1898. 
VOL. LXVIII. 37 




580 THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. [Feb., 




SOCIAL LIFE IN THE LARGER CITIES. 

of rule over her colonies prevents men from doing justice 
to the self-sacrificing labors of these truly apostolic men in 
civilizing and Christianizing the Filipinos. In the name of 
justice, we but ask that the services of the Religious Orders in 
the Philippines be considered apart from whatever verdict may 
be passed upon Spanish rule in that archipelago. 

THE COLONIZATION OF THE PHILIPPINES. 

The conquest of the Philippine Islands was pre-eminently a 
work of the Religious Orders of the Catholic Church. The 
fatality which attended the two armed expeditions sent thither 
by the Emperor Charles V. disheartened the Spanish hopes of 
ever acquiring a permanent hold upon these distant possessions. 
Besides, the unexplored regions of America, so recently dis- 
covered by Columbus, afforded the more suitable territory for 
Spain to spread her empire. Here, too, the adventurer, in his 
lust of rule or greed for gold, was lured by the stories of fabu- 
lous wealth to be had in the New World. 

But while Spain was intent upon pouring her armies over 
the plains of Mexico and Peru, holy missioners of that chival- 
rous country were yearning for an opportunity to carry the 
Gospel of Christ to the savage tribes inhabiting the Philippines. 
In their zeal for souls they were not daunted by the perils of 



1899-] THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. 581 

the two seas which separated these benighted people from the 
shores of Europe. The object appealed powerfully to the 
religious enthusiasm of the ruling monarch, Philip II., who had 
ever shown himself an adept in making religion subserve the 
interests of Spain. He accordingly entered heartily into the 
plan to provide suitable transport for those who should embark 
in the enterprise. 

Father Andrew de Urdaneta, O.S.A., seemed the providential 
medium through which to execute this holy undertaking. Be- 
fore receiving the religious habit he had won distinction in the 
Sicilian and Italian wars in behalf of his native country, Spain. 
He was also a cosmographer of national repute, and had ac- 
companied an early expedition to the Molucca Islands during 
the reign of Charles V. He was at this time in Mexico, labor- 
ing with the little band of missioners sent thither (1533) by St. 
Thomas of Villanova to evangelize the Red Men. Instinctively 
the king turned to him as the guiding spirit of this hazardous 
enterprise. Father Urdaneta was chosen superior of the five 




SPAIN ACCOMPLISHED BETTER RESULTS IN THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. 

Augustinians destined for this mission. By royal decree he was 
also vested with the title of " Protector of the Indians," which 
accorded him a position in the Philippines similar to that of 
the venerable Dominican Las Casas in the West Indies. 



582 THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. [Feb., 

On the fleet, numbering four vessels and a tender, under the 
command of the celebrated Legazpe, these intrepid soldiers of 
the cross sailed (1564) from the port of Natividad, Mexico. 
Having passed through the Barbadoes and Ladrone Islands, the 
Philippines were first sighted February 13, 1565. The Spaniards 
succeeded at length in communicating with the natives of Cebu 
Island, and finally induced them, April 25, 1565, to open the 
city of that name to their entrance. 

THE CONDITION OF THE PHILIPPINES IN 1564. 

When Father Urdaneta, O.S.A., and his four colaborers first 
planted the cross on these islands the inhabitants were steeped 
in the worst species of idolatry. The stars, the animals, and 
various plants were the objects of their adoration. A bird 
called tigmamanuquin was one of their principal divinities. The 
crow they revered as lord of the earth, and the alligator, the 
lord of the seas. They believed that the human race sprang 
from the vegetable kingdom, and that the soul is material. 
Such delusions, together with a belief in the sorcerers and 
various superstitions regarding the hooting of the owl and the 
appearance of the snake, completed the religious ideas of the 
Filipinos. 

In the political order they were divided into various tribes. 
Their leading pursuit was to wage war among themselves and 
to reduce the vanquished to slavery, when not diverted from 
this method of self-destruction by the encroachments of the 
Moors or of the pirates from China and Japan. Although the 
islands were only sparsely inhabited, and the soil most fertile 
by nature, they failed from ignorance and indolence to husband 
the necessaries of life. Twenty-five thousand families are said 
to have perished from starvation in one year in the Island of 
Panay. 

Slavery among the natives was of the most abject nature ; 
the master possessed the power of life and death over his 
subjects. Yet this cruel condition of durance was the portion 
of about half the people of the entire archipelago on the arrival 
of the Spanish missionaries. Marriage was not held in esteem. 
The practice of polygamy prevailed, and the natives were 
wholly insensible to the meaning of purity and morality, as well 
as of any knowledge beyond their immediate surroundings. Bru- 
tal instincts seemed to dominate these people. The various 
dialects in use among the tribes were devoid of any word to 
express the universal idea. Idleness, a propensity for amuse- 



1899-] THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. 583 




THE NATIVE FILIPINOS ARE NOTED FOR DOMESTIC VIRTUE. 

ment and disregard for the truth, were predominant, together 
with a proneness to sensuality of a most degrading nature. 
The natives, long accustomed to be a prey to the maraudings 
of the pirates who infested the eastern seas, were warlike, 
treacherous, and suspicious of strangers. The chief obstacle 
encountered by the Spaniards was the extreme mistrust of the 
inhabitants toward invaders. Yet, in view of this hostile spirit, 
Spain accomplished the subjugation of the islands without 
having recourse to those appalling massacres which so often 
had been the forerunner of her conquests in South America 
and Mexico. 

THE CONQUEST OF THE PHILIPPINES DUE TO THE RELIGIOUS 

ORDERS. 

But the triumph was not one of Spanish arms, but rather 
the result of the religious influence of the Catholic missioners, 
who in the early period of Spanish domination were un- 
hampered by that iniquitous legislation in civil affairs which in 



584 THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. [Feb., 

after years retarded the progress of their work. The early 
volunteers for this most remote possession of Spain were priests 
armed with the Gospel of Christ to win souls to the standard 
of the Cross ; they were not soldiers armed with rapier and 
spear to conquer subjects to Spain. 

Before the end of the sixteenth century, within a period of 
thirty years from the first arrival of missioners among the million 
and a half barbarians, the Augustinians alone had sent two 
hundred and nineteen priests of that order to the Philippines. 

At first this religious body enjoyed exclusive right in eccle- 
siastical affairs over the whole archipelago. But it was soon 
apparent to the fathers of the order that this one institute of 
the church was unequal to the demand of supplying a sufficient 
number of laborers for the entire district. Accordingly, on the 
representation of the Augustinians, the Holy See invited other 
religious bodies to aid in propagating the faith among the 
natives. In the year 1577 the Franciscan Fathers sent seven- 




RAPID TRANSIT is MOT THOROUGHLY DEVELOPED. 

teen priests of their order to share the arduous undertaking. 
Four years later two Jesuit fathers entered upon the same mis- 
sion, followed by the Dominicans in 1587, and by the Dis- 
calced Augustinians (1606), who are known in the Philippines 



1 899-] T HE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. 585 




THE RICH TROPICAL VEGETA'I ION. 

as " Recoletos." These different religious orders were wel 
corned by the Augustinian pioneers and were made sharers in 
common of the apostolic faculties. Provinces and islands 
were assigned to the respective communities, whose numbers 
were rapidly augmented. And they labored with a holy emula- 
tion to advance the kingdom of God among these benighted 
people. Upon them devolved the giant task of effecting the 
moral, civil, and religious transformation of degraded savages. 

i THE RELIGIOUS THE BENEFACTORS OF THE FILIPINOS. 

From the first the natives of the Philippines took kindly to 
the mission of the priests among them. Their fiercer nature 
seemed tamed by the holy maxims of the Gospel, whose force 
and influence were accentuated by the zeal and self-sacrifice 
with which it was preached among them. To the missioner 
the people turned with confidence and love, as to a father who 
so often shielded them from the oppression of the mercenaries 
of the government. From the day that Legazpe entered Cebu, 
after a slight skirmish with the inhabitants, never, until the 
present insurrection, were the natives arrayed against their 
priests. Rather, the influence and example of these apostolic 
men, who cheerfully forsook European homes of comfort to 



586 THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILJPPJXES. [Feb., 

labor for the cause of religion and humanity in the Philippines, 
elicited the unswerving devotion and loyalty of the natives. 
While Spain sent her armed expeditions roving over Mexico 
and Peru in search of treasured wealth, leaving in their trail the 
horrors vividly portrayed by the saintly Las Casas, the friars 
went fearlessly among the Indians with no protection other 
than the sacredness of their mission. Yet these ministers of 
the gospel, whose successors to-day are so grievously maligned 
because their services have been misunderstood, accomplished 
results which alone ought to silence their calumniators. Through 
their agency Spain has done for the Philippines in the work of 
civilization what England with her boasted school, and France 
with all her vaunted enlightenment, have failed to do in India 
under more congenial surroundings. 

Jean Re"clus, the noted French scholar and living witness, 
whose avowed liberalism but adds to the testimony he offers in 
his Nouvelle Geographic Universelle on this subject, thus writes : 




THEIR SAVAGE INSTINCTS SOMETIMES REASSERT THEMSELVES. 

4< The Filipinos are the most civilized people of the Orient. 
The friars have civilized them. If in matters of industry, 
commerce, and enlightenment they be inferior to the Japanese, 
they nevertheless occupy in another respect a superior plane. 



1899-] THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. 587 




FILIPINOS TOOK KINDLY TO THE MISSION OF THE PRIESTS. 

They are not a mere mass of islanders held by lords in a state 
of hopeless dependence. While the oriental subjects of Hol- 
land regarded their conquerors as men of a different order of 
being, the Spaniard, in the person of the friars, has identified 
himself with the Filipinos, and thus elevated their moral stand- 
ard. Gradually have they become imbued with European cul- 
ture, without suffering through the process those miseries which 
so often accompany a too rapid transformation. It is the cura 
that is, the friar rather than the soldiers and cannons that 
secures to Spain the loyal submission of the natives." 

THE MISSIONARY LABORS OF THE RELIGIOUS. 

The members of the various religious orders laboring in the 
Philippines, instead of living in large communities, are usually 
found scattered in small bands throughout the entire archipel- 
ago. In each settlement, or pueblo, a priest took up his habi- 
tation, and cheerfully shared with the natives the hardships 
consequent on their barbarous mode of life. From the Island 
of Cebu they have gradually advanced their labors, and have 
even penetrated districts which never acknowledged Spanish 
sovereignty. In the year 1892 the aforenamed five bodies of 



588 THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. [Feb., 

religious had resident priests located in 652 missions established 
in the Philippines. The number of Catholics subject to their 
spiritual care was 5,159,384. For the same year, not including 
the Jesuit missions, 221,419 had received the sacrament of bap- 
tism, 51,025 marriages had been registered, and 191,132 had 
received Christian burial. 

Each of their various missions, to which schools are invari- 
ably attached, is a centre of genuine Catholic de'votion and 
enlightenment. At the daily Mass, which is offered in every 
church, the children attend in a body. Here they join in recit- 
ing the Rosary and in singing various hymns of devotion. 
Afterwards they repair to the school, where they are taught 
the rudiments of education. Besides, the girls are instructed 
by an organization of matronly ladies in all that pertains to 
their sphere of usefulness. Every Saturday is held a special 
devotion in honor of the Blessed Virgin, on which occasion 
the goodly attendance of the faithful bespeaks their reverence 
for the Queen of Heaven. On Sundays the children form in 
procession at the school, whence they proceed to the church 
bearing a banner of the Blessed Virgin and chanting devotional 
hymns and lessons in Christian doctrine arranged in verse. Their 
appearance in public is the signal for all to assemble at the 
Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, during which the congregation join 
in singing the Gloria and Credo. 

THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE WORK OF EDUCATION. 

Meantime the religious orders have not failed to embrace 
every opportunity to elevate the moral and intellectual stand- 
ard among the Filipinos. They alone have been the organized 
bodies possessing that influence and means which are so neces- 
sary to accomplish the undertaking. Through them have been 
established and maintained various institutions to administer 
charity and promote education. 

In the year 1595 the Jesuits founded a university and a 
preparatory school in Manila. They also conduct the normal 
school (Manila) in which are trained and educated the teachers 
destined for the schools attached to the various missions 
throughout the various islands. While the college of San 
Felipe, under these fathers of the Society of Jesus, is well known, 
the official university of the Philippines is that of St. Thomas, 
under the care of the Dominicans. The other orders maintain 
special institutions for the education of those who enter their 
ranks, besides superintending numerous orphanages and asylums 



1899-] THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. 589 

for the needy. The members of these religious orders in the 
Philippine provinces occupy a foremost place in the literary and 
scientific world. To them, in a particular manner, belongs the 
credit of having made possible the study of the various dialects 




BARBARIAN HORDES TRAINSFORMED INTO A MOST CIVILIZED PEOPLE. 

spoken among the different tribes. They have been active 
co-operators in every effort to stimulate the interest which of 
late years has been manifest in this branch of general knowl- 
edge. 

THE RELIGIOUS A FACTOR IN THE NATIONAL LIFE OF THE 

PEOPLE. 

The circumstances surrounding the early labors of the mis- 
sionaries in the Philippines were calculated to arouse both 
national sentiment and religious enthusiasm. The whole archi- 
pelago was in imminent peril of succumbing to the slavery of 
the Mohammedans, who dwelt in tribes upon the shores and 
in the low lands of the islands. According to some the disci- 
ples of Mohammed in this remote part of the globe were orig- 
inally immigrants from India, while others claim they were 
natives of the islands and converted to the Mohammedan be- 
lief by traders from the west. 

The fact is, the Moorish Malays comprised a fierce and ag- 



590 THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. [Feb., 



gressive race. They lived subject to sultans and were expert 
seamen. They .knew no avocation other than war, by means 
of which they secured captives to man their galleys, and slaves 
whom they chiefly utilized in diving for coral and pearl in the 
bed of the sea. The traditional hatred of the Spaniard for the 
Moor and the memory of the bondage to which Spain had 
been reduced by the followers of Mohammed inspired the mis- 
sionaries to wage a crusade against their aggressions. Here in 
the distant archipelago the Cross and Crescent met in mortal 
combat, as they met of old on the plains of Granada. The 
priests went among the different tribes, whom they organized 
into efficient bands of warriors, under their respective chiefs. 

They also advanced 
to the battle-field 
with Cross uplifted 
to inspire the hearts 
of the natives. 

Thus one of the 
first lessons of prac- 
tical import taught 
the Filipinos was 
the sacredness of 
dying in defence of 
their wives and 
daughters, and of 
the liberty and in- 
dependence of the 
nation. Owing to 
the well-organized 
and aggressive cru- 
sade thus inaugu- 
rated, the Moors 
were not only stayed 
in their ravages, but 
forced to take refuge 
in the southern por- 
tion of the archi- 
pelago, where they 
ceased to be a 
menace to the cause of civilization and Christianity. 

In 1574 the pirate Li-wa-Hong attacked Manila with seventy- 
two ships and a large army. The governor, Don Juan de Sal- 
ledo, summoned all the Spaniards then in the island, whose 




THE CHINESE ARE NUMEROUS IN MANILA. 



1899-] THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. 591 



number did not exceed two hundred and fifty, and^entrench- 
ing themselves in the cathedral, they prepared to dispute pos- 
session with the invaders. But meantime the missioners 
amassed an army of 
fifteen hundred 
Tagals, and by their 
assistance drove the 
Chinese beyond the 
borders, destroying 
many of the ships. 
In 1602 the Chinese 
inhabitants of Ma- 
nila, being very num- 
erous, formed an in- 
surrection with the 
avowed purpose of 
securing possession 
of the entire Island 
of Luzon. Again 
the missioners, the 
natural defenders of 
the islands, aroused 
the people to the dan- 
ger. The Chinese, 
though having made 
themselves compara- 
tive masters of Ma- A TYPICAL TAGAL. 
nila, were power- 
less to withstand the onslaught of the natives, gathered from 
the surrounding district, who, led by the missioners, caused 
twenty-three thousand of the enemy to fall by the sword. In 
succeeding ages the missioners were the leaders in forming the 
national defence of the inhabitants against the various invaders. 
The Dutch were repeatedly routed in the seventeenth century; 
and in 1762, when England stormed and captured Manila, their 
most relentless opponents were the missioners, who marshalled 
the natives with a spirit of bitter determination. 

THE OPPOSITION TO THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS. 

But the spectacle of the Philippines to-day seems like a 
cruel travesty upon the foregoing facts. The mad populace, 
in the throes of revolution, now spare neither the life nor the 
property of the religious. The plot for their destruction, which 




592 THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. [Feb., 

was designed less in hatred of Spain than of the Catholic 
Church, is being executed by an irresponsible rabble of the 
archipelago, who are led by vandals and assassins. 

There are two elements in the conspiracy against the reli- 
gious orders which deserve a special notice. The one was the 
party in the Philippines aspiring for national independence, of 
which the ill-fated Rizal was the avowed leader. In their 
yearning for freedom and for deliverance from the yoke of 
Spanish sovereignty they saw the need to strike down the 
religious orders, who were the one bulwark of Spain. 

Side by side with the national patriot the Masons, the 
Liberals and anti-Catholics of Spain have worked unceasingly 
to overthrow the religious orders. It is they who have used 
the Filipinos' love for liberty to gratify their own malignant 
greed, even though their country has been sacrificed as a re- 
sult. The two wings of the organization in Spain have for 
their respective leaders Senor Alas and Senor Ibanez. The 
former is uncompromising in his demand for the expulsion of 
the orders from the Philippines. The latter boldly voices the 
gibbet as the most natural means of disposing of them. These 
have adopted systematic methods of vilifying the religious 
orders. Before the peninsula government the friars are repre- 
sented as disloyal to the interest of the mother country ; while 
abroad, and particularly among the simple natives of the Philip- 
pines, they are calumniated and made answerable for the Span- 
ish rule. 

The dominant power which these so-called patriots exert in 
the government of Spain is too well known by the prelates of 
the Catholic Church. No later than the 2ist of April of the 
present year the superiors of the five religious bodies laboring 
in the Philippines addressed a memorial to the crown and to 
the minister of the colonies, lamenting the cover of protection 
accorded those employed in the propagandism of falsehood 
and calumny. 

But the downfall of the religious in the Philippines is not 
the ulterior aim of this body. Thrice within the present cen- 
tury has this spirit of irreligion gained the ascendency in 
Spain. And in each of the revolutions which swept the unfor- 
tunate peninsula the church has been despoiled. After the up- 
heavals of 1839 there were but three religious communities of 
men in all Spain. These were exempt from the general ban 
merely because they were needed to maintain the missioners in 
the Philippines. 



1899-] THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS IN THE PHILIPPINES. 593 

The same spirit of irreligion seeks to gain favor to-day by 
discrediting the institutions of the church. The fomenters of 
this evil spirit and those swayed by its influence have availed 
themselves of the basest methods to undo the religious orders 
in the Philippines and to vilify their members. 

The withdrawal of the Spanish flag from the Philippines 
cannot be regarded as a catastrophe to the religious orders. 
The questionable support received by them from that govern- 
ment was poor requital for the odium and suffering it has 
entailed. Gladly should this be forfeited for the protection 
which the United States guarantees to property and individuals. 
And with this safeguard the religious orders, under more 
favorable auspices than in the past, may still continue their 
sacred mission among the Filipinos. 




THE ART OF HUSBANDRY is WELL DEVELOPED. 



594 



RICHES UNUSED. 



[Feb., 




I^IGHES UNUSED, 



BY REV. GEORGE LEE, C.S.Sp. 



ULL is the promised Fount 

Whence wells the saving flood 
That makes the waste to bud : 
Only the Word can count 
How Thou bearest wealth, and bringest 

health, 
O Precious Blood ! 



Yet are there blighted souls 
Who starve in sorest need, 
From thirst are never freed, 
Near though the great tide rolls ; 
Where is lust of earth, there's ceaseless dearth 
O drink, indeed ! 

Many still wander far 

In pained pleasure's quest, 
In hungry sin's unrest, 
Wide while that door's ajar 
Where a board is spread, with angels' bread, 
O Chalice blest ! 



Sad that enfranchised men 
By penance dropped in fear, 
By passion's slavery drear 
Sadder than thought or ken ! 
Should at last be found in hell-toils bound ; 
O Ransom dear ! 

Saddest our cruel loss, 

The infant crowds unpriced ! 
To whom had well sufficed 
Strongly so pleads the Cross 
Of Thy laver pure one touch secure, 
O Blood of Christ ! 




1899-] SHEILA'S PRESENTIMENT. 595 



SHEILA'S PRESENTIMENT. 

BY CLARA MULHOLLAND, 
Author of " A Striking Contrast" " Kathleen Mavoiirneen.'''' 

AM afraid it meant waiting still longer, Sheila," 
said Gerald sadly. "The rise I had hoped for 
has not come, and now that poor uncle's money 
is not forthcoming, I have nothing to expect 
from any outside source. It would be worse 
than folly to marry on my present salary." 

"Indeed it would," I answered quickly. "And you must be 
brave and patient." 

" I try to be ; but it's dreary work. And you can't imagine 
how I long to be with you, sweetheart." 

" I think I have a good idea," I said, knowing how keenly 
I felt our separation myself. " I wish we dared risk marrying 
on your salary and my thirty-five pounds." 

" You could not earn it as a married woman, dearest. You 
would have enough to do then too much to allow you to 
work as a daily governess. 

" Perhaps. But your uncle's money may soon be found. 
Since he made a will leaving thousands to you, there must be 
some somewhere." 

"I think not. The old man fancied he had money; but it 
can only have been a fancy. Beyond a few pounds, the farm, 
and a few head of cattle, we can find nothing. Bree Farm 
he has left to my mother. So, I am thankful to say, she has a 
home." 

"Yes; that's a blessing. But to me the whole thing is a 
mystery. Your uncle must have had money. Remember how 
he lived. Poor father used to say Mr. O'Riley was inclined to 
be miserly. He never spent a penny he could help." 

" I'm sure he didn't. And every one for miles round 
thought he had saved a goodly sum. But you see they were 
wrong." 

" So it would seem. But I must say I am surprised, though 
I used to wonder how any man with money could wear the 
shabby old garments he did. He never suggested a person of 
wealth." 

VOL. LXVIII. 38 



596 SHEILA'S PRESENTIMENT. [Feb., 

" He did not go in for smart dressing," said Gerald, laugh- 
ing. " It was not his way to spend money on himself." 

" Nor on his nephew, I used to think." 

Gerald moved a little closer to me, and laid his hand on 
mine. 

" Let's forget poor old Uncle Pat and his supposed but un- 
discoverable money-bags, and talk about ourselves, Sheila. How 
are you getting on ? Is Mrs. Easton kind to you ? Are you 
fairly comfortable?" 

"Yes; Mrs. Easton is very good and the children are sweet. 
I take all my meals with them now and only go back to my 
attic to sleep." 

" It's a hard life, darling, and oh, Sheila ! what a difference 
even a little money would have made to us." 

" Don't think about it, dear one. You'll get a rise in your 
salary and then we sha'n't care." 

"Some day. And then I'll make it all up to you, my sweet 
girl. We'll be very happy yet. I know we shall." 

I looked at him, my eyes full of love and trust, and pressed 
his hand warmly within my own. 

" I'm sure we shall, dear Gerald. And now, don't trouble 
about me. Your life, drudging away in your gloomy office, is 
more trying than mine." 

"You are a brave little soul and deserve a better fate. Do 
you never grumble, Sheila ? " 

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I gazed up silently at the 
blue sky, remembering how often I had grumbled and com- 
plained when I first learned that my father had speculated so 
unwisely that when he died he left his children penniless. It 
had been a hard trial to leave home and face the world as a 
governess in London, and I had borne it with but a small 
show of patience. In my first situation I was haughty and 
disagreeable. An ill-tempered governess no one could tolerate, 
and I was promptly dismissed. In my next place I would have 
fared no better had not the knowledge that Gerald O'Riley 
loved me come suddenly to soften my despairing heart, and 
given me a courage and strength altogether new to me. That 
he was poor and could not marry me, perhaps, for years, hard- 
ly troubled me. The hope that I should one day be his wife, 
the thought of his love, filled me with happiness, and the whole 
world was changed. Things that had been wont to annoy me 
did so no longer. Seeing how patiently Gerald worked, I re- 
solved to do the same. All my bitterness departed. I grew 



1899-] SHEILA'S PRESENTIMENT. 597 

cheerful, gentle, and forbearing, and every one became kind 
and obliging to me. Through the interest of a friend I 
obtained a situation with the Eastons, and my worst days were 
over. Mrs. Easton, always kind and considerate, did what she 
could to make things easy for me. In a short time I loved 
her and her children very dearly, and found working for and 
with them a pleasure. Thus, I was able to speak encouraging 
words to Gerald when we met, and bear our long waiting with 
a certain degree of equanimity. But when he, who had helped 
me so much by word and example, praised me for my patience, 
I remembered the past and felt ashamed. 

" One thing we must both think of when inclined to grum- 
ble during the next few months, Sheila," he said, wondering, 
doubtless, why I was still silent ; "that is our visit to my mother 
at Bree. Mrs. Easton will give you a fortnight's holiday at 
Christmas, I am sure." 

" Oh, yes!" I turned to him with a radiant smile. "And 
won't it be delightful to go back to the dear old place?" 

" Most delightful. Something to dream about, Sheila." 

" Indeed it will." 

And then, as evening closed in, we parted. I to go back 
to the school-room, where the children awaited me ; he to the 
station to catch the train to Liverpool, where he worked as a 
salaried clerk in a solicitor's office. 

Gerald and I had known each other from our childhood. 
His father and mine had been old friends and neighbors all their 
lives. They had both died poor men John O'Riley when 
his son was a lad of thirteen ; Miles Blake only two years be- 
fore this story begins. Gerald's father had never been rich ; 
mine had inherited a considerable fortune from an uncle in 
America, but, led on by a desire to make it more, had lost 
everything in foolish speculation. 

John O'Riley's brother Patrick, a quiet, industrious old 
farmer, gave his widow a home and sent Gerald first to school 
and then to the office of a friend of his, in Liverpool. 

Pat O'Riley was a strange, rather surly character, but was 
looked up to and respected by all who knew him. He never 
breathed a word to any one about his money matters. But he 
was careful and thrifty, and his neighbors believed him to be 
possessed of considerable wealth. 

" Sure, young Gerald will be able to set up as a gintleman 
by-and-by," people said when told that he had sought me out in 



598 SHEILA^S PRESENTIMENT. [Feb., 

my dreary loneliness and asked me to be his wife, " for sorra 
one else has the old man to lave his money to. He'll be a 
fine match for poor Sheila Blake." 

Then very suddenly Pat O'Riley died. Struck down by 
apoplexy late one afternoon, he expired the next, without 
recovering speech or consciousness. In his will, clearly and 
legally executed, he stated that he left six thousand pounds 
to his beloved nephew Gerald O'Riley. But, though diligent 
search and inquiries had been made, no trace of any such 
money could be found. 

Gerald's disappointment was great, though he would hardly 
confess it. He had never believed in his uncle's wealth, but 
he had hoped that he would have had something to leave him, 
and these hopes were now completely shattered. The only 
pleasant thing in the whole business was, that as the little farm 
was left to his mother, she would have a comfortable home till 
the end of her days. 

During the months that followed my parting from Gerald 
that afternoon, in Regent's Park, I thought of little but my 
approaching visit to Ireland. Waking and sleeping the idea 
was constantly before my mind, and I talked and dreamed of 
nothing else. At last, to my delight, the desired time came 
round, and, saying good-by to Mrs. Easton and the children, I 
started on my journey. 

Gerald met me at Holyhead and we went on together to 
Wexford. 

Mrs. O'Riley received us with open arms, and I fairly cried 
with joy as she led me into her cozy parlor, and, seating me in 
her own arm-chair, kissed and welcomed me as her daughter. 

Bree Farm was a small, lone, white-washed house with nar- 
row windows and thatched roof. It was simple and unpreten- 
tious, but homelike and full of sweet memories. And as 
Gerald and Gerald's mother petted and made much of me, my 
heart was full of happiness and the little place seemed a 
paradise. 

We sat up talking till far into the night. We had so much 
to discuss that was interesting, after our long separation, that 
we could not bring ourselves to say good-night. But although 
we touched upon many topics, the all-absorbing one, the one 
to which we recurred, over and over again, was that of 
Uncle Pat's money. 

"Pat didn't believe in banks," Mrs. O'Riley said; "they all 
smashed up sooner or later, he declared, and Miles Blake's 



1899-] SHEILA'S PRESENTIMENT. 599 

unfortunate losses determined him never to invest money in 
anything, I know." 

" Had he any to invest ? " asked Gerald doubtfully. 

" I'm sure he had." 

" Then what did he do with it, mother? Bury it in a hole? " 

" Maybe, dear," she answered quietly. " Sure, I wouldn't 
put it past him." 

"You've looked well, all over the house, I suppose?" 

" Well ; I've had up every bit of carpet, opened every mat- 
tress, turned out every drawer, ripped the seat off every chair- 
but not a sight of money, gold or notes, could I find. Unless 
the old man comes back " 

I started and shivered a little. 

" And I don't think he's likely to do that we'll never know 
what he did with the money. It's a wonder he rests in his 
grave " 

" Mother, your frightening the child ! " cried Gerald. 

I laughed. "Indeed, she's not. I'm not such a goose." 

"You've a strong head, I know," he answered fairly; " but 
you must not try it too far. And now it is quite time you 
went to bed." 

" I think it must be," 1 said with a yawn, as I rose from 
my chair. " I am sleepy. To-morrow, Gerald, you and I must 
have another hunt for your fortune. I have a strong presenti- 
ment that I shall find it for you." 

" That's right ; I have immense confidence in you." 

As I bade him good-night and entered my little, low-ceil- 
inged bed-room, I straightway began my search for the missing 
thousands. I opened all the drawers, shook up the bolster and 
pillows, turned over the mattress, and, going down on my 
knees, crept in under the bed. Then it suddenly struck me that 
I was very silly, and I burst out laughing. 

"As if after all Mrs. O'Riley's searching the money would 
be lying there for me," I cried. " You are a born idiot, Sheila 
Blake. Or, perhaps, the thoughts of this fortune have turned 
your brain. You'll not find it here, you may be quite sure. 
So forget all about it and go to bed." 

I took off my dress and, throwing on my dressing-gown, 
went over to the table and began to brush my hair. The one 
candle seemed dim to me, accustomed to gas-light, and the 
weird shadows on floor and ceiling, the uncanny and impene- 
trable gloom of the distant corners, gave me a sudden feeling 
of nervous terror. I trembled in every limb. 



6oo SHEILA" s PRESENTIMENT. [Feb., 

" I must hurry and get my head under the clothes," I said, 
" or " I stopped short, paralyzed with fear. For as I stood 
before the dressing-table I saw the reflection of a man's figure 
in the glass. He was old and bent, and very odd-looking, and 
was seated in a straight-backed chair beside the fire. He wore 
a dark frieze suit, patched and well worn ; was pale and ghostly, 
and had a pair of spectacles stuck on the bridge of his nose. 
His head was down, and he leant heavily upon a stout stick 
that he held in his large, broad hands. 

" If Pat O'Riley were not dead, I'd say it was he," I stam- 
mered, white to the lips. " What shall I do ? " Then, my nerves 
being strong, I was able, after a moment of terror, to pull my- 
self together and laugh at the absurdity of my fancy and my 
fears. 

" Something has disagreed with me at supper," I said ; 
" there is nothing there." And turning round, I looked across 
at the chair. It was empty. 

" Ah, I thought so ; but to make assurance doubly sure I'll 
sit down." And I walked over and seated myself, half ex- 
pecting to see the mysterious apparition occupying a place by 
my side. To my intense relief I was alone in the chair. De- 
lighted that I had proved how completely I had been deceived 
by my distorted imagination, I jumped up and went back to 
the dressing-table. But there, to my horror, stood the old man 
gazing at me, one hand uplifted, the other still grasping his 
stick. I recoiled, the cold perspiration standing in heavy drops 
upon my forehead, my eyes fixed upon the strange figure the 
figure of Gerald's dead uncle, Pat O'Riley. As I stared at him, 
fascinated, he beckoned to me and moved slowly towards the 
door. Terrified, I drew back, clinging to the dressing-table lest 
I should fall. But, still beckoning, he looked at me implor- 
ingly. 

" Follow me," he said in a low, sepulchral whisper. " For 
Gerald's sake come and come quickly ! My time has almost 
run out." 

Drawn on by some unknown power, my knees knocking to- 
gether so that I felt sure every step must be my last, I stag- 
gered after him, out of my room, down the long, narrow pas- 
sage and short stair, lit only by the rays of a somewhat watery 
moon, hoping, wishing, praying that Gerald might hear me pass 
his door, and, wondering what was wrong, come out to my 
assistance. I tried to call to him, raised my hand to knock as 
I went slowly by; but no sound came from my trembling lips, 



1899-] SHEILA'S PRESENTIMENT. Co i 

my arm, heavy as lead, hung limp and lifeless by my side. Try 
as I would, I was powerless to resist the strong, indomitable 
will of my strange guide, and was obliged, in spite of myself, 
to follow in his footsteps. 

In the hall the old man paused and took a large, rusty key 
from a nail on the wall above his head. Then, opening a door 
at the far end of a narrow passage, he passed on into a small 
room, so filled with lumber of every description that I had con- 
siderable difficulty in getting along after him. 

Having pushed our way through a quantity of rubbish, boxes, 
old tools, broken baskets, chairs, and rickety tables, he sud- 
denly stopped short, and, raising his stick, pointed upwards. 

"When you find what is hidden there my spirit shall be at 
peace and walk the earth no more," came from the ghastly lips. 
" Waste no time, Sheila Blake, but search in the corner. There, 
well hidden in the thatch, you will discover the treasure you 
seek." 

And the weird figure moved slowly away, then vanished 
from my sight. 

I put my foot upon an old table that stood near, and from 
it clambered up on to a pile of dilapidated hampers, from 
whence I felt sure I could touch the low, sloping roof. But, 
as I stretched forth my hand to grope for the promised treas- 
ure, the old baskets toppled over, and with a wild shriek I fell 
headlong to the ground. 

When I recovered consciousness I was lying on my bed, 
Mrs. O'Riley bathing my forehead and Gerald chafing my 
hands. 

"What is wrong?" I asked, looking from jme^tp the other 
in surprise. " Have I been ill ? " 

" No, dear, no," Gerald said. " But' 

"Ah!" I cried, sitting up quickly, " 
to me, Gerald, and told me where the m\>$\y was' 
I know and I must and will find it." 

"Hush, dear!" Gerald looked at me in ftWfc^ The dear 
fellow trembled for my reason, and, hoping to soothe and quiet 
me, laid a cool hand upon my brow. But I flung it aside. 

" You found me in the little lumber-room ? " I said. 

" Yes. You must have been walking in your sleep, dearest. 
It is a dangerous habit, Sheila. You must not do it again." 

" I was not asleep, but wide awake, And I now know 
where to find Uncle Pat's money." 




602 SHEILA* s PRESENTIMENT. [Feb., 

" Sheila ! " 

" Yes ; and you'll soon see that I do." And I insisted upon 
telling him the whole story. 

" You were dreaming, dear," he said when I had finished. 
" Knowing that old chair was Uncle Pat's, you sat down in 
it to think, and fell asleep. 

"I did not know it was his chair, and I did not fall asleep. 
I was wide awake," I cried, and burst into tears. 

"Your nerves are unstrung, dearest. You must get into 
bed and go to sleep." 

" My nerves are all right ; and if you don't go this moment 
and look for that money in the thatched roof of the little 
lumber room, I'll never speak to you again, Gerald O'Riley." 

" Won't to-morrow do ? " 

" No, no ; now ! " I was in a fever of excitement. " The 
old man must be allowed to rest. Quick, Gerald ! He charged 
me to waste no time. Go oh, do go ! " 

" Very well ; but you must promise not to be disappointed, 
dearest, if ' 

" I sha'n't be disappointed. I'm not afraid." 

" Go, dear; if it were only to satisfy her," whispered his 
mother. 

And then, sighing heavily, Gerald opened the door a^nd 
went out. 

I sprang from the bed and paced restlessly up and down 
the room. My head was burning ; my heart throbbed tumul- 
tuously. 

" What if I did dream it all ? What if I really walked in 
my sleep ? What if" 

Gerald appeared upon the threshold, a white packet in his 
hands. 

"Sheila!" he gasped in a voice full of excitement, "it 
was there. It was a strange depository, but the money is 
quite safe." 

I turned and staggered towards him. 

"Really? Oh, Gerald!" 

" Really, mine own. Our weary waiting is at an end. God 
bless Uncle Pat ; may he rest in peace ! " 

He drew me into his arms, and with a little sob of rapture 
I hid my face upon his breast. 




1899.] Music AS AN EDUCATIONAL FACTOK. 603 



MUSIC AS AN EDUCATIONAL FACTOR. 

BY MARCELLA REILLY. 

RISTOTLE asks, " Is music a recreation, an occu- 
pation for cultured leisure, or a gymnastic for 
the soul? It is all three," he replies, "and would 
deserve study for any one of them ; but its chief 
merit lies in its third use." 

The Greeks made the study of music fundamental. Its 
function was ethical. It had a dignity and importance in rela- 
tion to education and the state, as well as a softening influence 
on the passions, and was the introduction and foundation to 
moral, intellectual, and physical education. Although their music 
was of infinite simplicity compared with ours, they believed it 
possessed supernatural power ; its study was regarded as a 
corrective of evil tendencies, and a preparation of the soul and 
body for the acquirement of knowledge. 

An important part in the education of every Greek youth 
was writing the poetry of his native land from dictation. Then 
he recited and sang it. Through music and poetry he was, 
from early youth, inspired with sentiments of courage and 
patriotism, and one may imagine the exquisite sense of poetic 
beauty, the wealth of language constructions, and fine ear for 
rhythm which the chanting of Homer and Sappho developed. 

That well-nigh perfect bodies were the outward expression 
of this training seems but a rational sequence. They even 
held spiritual songs as powerful as medical treatment in re- 
storing the human body to a normal condition, and they dis- 
approved of separating the music from the intellectual element 
contained in the words, which reduced it, they thought, to 
a merely sensuous pleasure. 

Their motive in music teaching, then, was purely ethical. 
Its first and chief use being to bring the human soul to that 
state of harmony and perfect balance which, with a sound 
body, would enable man to sustain all human relations in a 
most harmonious manner, and to be effective for the accom- 
plishment of this end, it must, to a certain extent, be studied. 

The ideas of the great modern educator and teacher, Froe- 
bel, seem to follow closely those of Aristotle, for he would 
place before the little child short poetical selections represent- 
ing nature and life. He knew that from the first dawn of 



604 Music AS AN EDUCATIONAL FACTOR. [Feb., 

creation music has stood closely to the contemplation of nature, 
and to the earliest thoughts and feelings of the human race, 
and he believed all phases of child-life, the homely as well as 
the most beautiful, should have their fitting expression in 
song. His disciples, recognizing this, have given rhythms and 
songs a foremost place in the kindergarten, and make their 
execution an important part of its training. 

From the earliest times music has been the expression of 
grief as well as joy. In none of the arts do we find such 
capability for the expression of the accents of sorrow, and in 
this very utterance enabling the grief-stricken one to find con- 
solation and hope. 

The most wonderful increase in the means of music-expres- 
sion came with the advent of the Christian religion. As it 
spread through the world, the tonal art became capable of 
expressing those exquisitely fine emotions of the heart which 
speak to the mind, like the lightning's flash, of a great and 
good God, and establish belief in him with an intensity which 
no other language can convey, nor the subtleties of logic prove. 

The early Christian painters beautifully and adequately ex- 
pressed in their art pictures of the life and feeling of their 
times, but the choruses of Palestrina and Allegri surpassed 
them by far, even as their strains mounted above the golden 
cross which architecture had enthroned on the topmost pin- 
nacle of the Gothic cathedral, symbolizing the yearnings of the 
heart for its heavenly home. 

Church history has furnished many instances of the great 
power of music over the soul, but none more remarkable than 
its efficacy in sustaining the faith of the early Christians in the 
bitter persecution and oppression which followed them. It was 
their solace in loneliness, a sustaining and comforting power in 
their dying struggles. During the reign of Nero, who merci- 
lessly condemned them to be burned at the stake, or cast into 
the arena to be torn by wild beasts, their ecstatic enthusiasm 
was upheld and sustained by chanting songs in praise of their 
new faith. By St. Augustine's own confession, he was con- 
verted by the divine power of music. 

A recent magazine article on Favorite Hymns relates the 
following incident : On the day following the battle of Sedan 
a large company of German soldiers, weary and footsore, were 
quartered in a French church. Overwrought and nervous from 
the strain of the preceding day, they found it impossible to 
sleep, notwithstanding their fatigue. One of their number stole 
to the organ loft, played that strong old hymn, " Now Thank 



1899-] Music AS AN EDUCATIONAL FACTOR. 605 

we all Our God." As its familiar strains floated through the 
church officers and men took it up and sang with all their 
hearts. One hymn succeeded another until, after half an hour 
of music, sleep, so ardently but fruitlessly sought before, stole 
sweetly over their weary bodies. 

At the present time I believe educators and teachers com- 
monly agree upon the importance of training, during the first 
years of life, the senses, the imagination, and the feelings. 
The mental impressions furnished by the senses are one of 
the essential elements of the human intelligence. They are 
the origin of most of our knowledge. Through their avenues 
the mind is enriched with a wonderful wealth of ideas. Deprive 
the human being of any one of them and his power of life 
suffers. That they should be kept clean, strong, and normal, 
and their imperfections corrected as far as possible, is of the 
utmost importance. 

If exercise is the great secret of the development and train- 
ing of them, by constant practice the musician must hear with 
a degree of accuracy which an untaught person would never 
attain. Hearing is surely one of the higher senses, because by 
it we enter into communication with our fellow-beings. 
Through the ear we learn to know, appreciate, and sympathize 
with them. It is also a highly artistic sense, and the study of 
music realizes its most exquisite possibilities. 

" Children live in a land of dreams, the young in imagina- 
tion." This faculty, which they possess in such a wonderful 
degree, when rightly trained, is a most valuable instrument in 
developing originality and the creative power. Music is not 
only a stimulus to individuality, but as a mode of expression 
is invaluable in fixing and intensifying ideas. Thoughts and 
feelings are never wholly our own until they are crystallized in 
expression of some form. 

Then the little child not only knows and understands, but 
he also feels and loves. The first step in moral training is the 
guiding of the feelings. The emotions are fundamental in edu- 
cation. They determine character. Emotion once aroused, 
must find an outlet. The necessity for expression is imperative. 
No great work in art, music, or good for others was ever done 
except under the pressure of necessity for expression. We call 
it inspiration. It is simply feeling and seeing so strongly that 
it must take form. 

I think we all feel and know that music is not only lan- 
guage of the emotions, but it is also capable of arousing them, 
and through expression these emotions become permanent. It 



606 Music AS AN EDUCATIONAL FACTOR. [Feb., 

should be the sacred duty of the parent and teacher to direct 
them, when once aroused, into safe channels, to let them find 
expression in love, sympathy, active doing of good for others. 

The sympathy and good feeling of a class are never greater 
than when side-by-side its members are singing high and beauti- 
ful sentiments. Here is the most complete state of socializa- 
tion. Natural antipathies and antagonisms melt away and bar- 
riers of caste are forgotten. The children go to the next duty 
rested in body and spiritually regenerated, with higher, stronger 
purpose, kindlier hearts, and much more keenly alive to true values. 

There are many feelings which are the foundation of the 
greatest virtues, such as love for one's religion, home, country. 
All these receive a healthful stimulus through music. " A man 
of feeling has no less value than the man of intellect," says 
Compayre, and although it is generally believed that some are 
born with cold, unsympathetic natures, there should be a great 
effort made to give them the environment most favorable for 
the best development of natural possibilities. 

It seems to me that music is here very valuable, inasmuch 
as there is a possibility of stirring such natures indirectly, giving 
stories and songs which may touch the heart through the mind. 

There is also a value in correlating with other subjects of 
the curriculum. The changing of seasons, birds, insects, leaves, 
flowers, the stars, the moon, the sky, morning, evening, patri- 
otic anniversaries, home, friendship, love, everything the child 
knows and which bears on his life, as well as things he has 
never seen, may become clearer and even glorified by the 
images formed in singing. 

In the Catholic school the scope of music is broader and 
still more beautiful, for it may be made the most perfect ex- 
pression of all the church holds sacred and dear. It is insepar- 
ably linked with the celebration of solemn, divine service, and 
here in these schools are being educated the priests of the 
future. In order that he may sing understandingly and cor- 
rectly the melodies of the church ritual, a priest must obtain 
the foundation of music principles, and a love for the best 
and truest in early youth. This advantage the Catholic school 
should afford. Here, too, among the girls are the future nuns 
and mothers. Bishop Spalding says, in his latest book : " It 
seems doubtful whether a woman who cannot sing and who 
does not love poetry has the right to marry. If she has no 
music in herself, how shall she learn to be a mother? How 
shall she touch the hidden springs of harmony which lie within 
the souls of children ? She should sing to them old songs, full 



1899-] Music AS AN EDUCATIONAL FACTOR. 607 

of aspiration and yearning, of faith in what is high and true, 
and she will read short poems to them, but only the best. 
Let her, then, be a good reader as well as a sweet singer." 

Commemorating in song and story the recurring feasts of 
the saints, the Holy Mother, and the life of our Lord Himself, 
the school year affords a constant opportunity to give children 
a wealth of valuable religious inspiration and feeling through 
music, beginning with September, when, amidst the gorgeous 
change of the leaves, occurs the birthday of the Blessed Vir- 
gin ; October for songs of the angels ; November fpr a beauti- 
ful setting of the De Profundis or Miserere of seme old mas- 
ter ; December, the Nativity ; Lent for the study of a Stabat 
Mater, and so on down through the year until we come to 
May, the queen of the months, dedicated to the honor of 
Heaven's Queen which always reminds me of happy years 
spent in a Western convent, where each May evening the white- 
veiled girls and gentle nuns met in a little chapel radiant with 
lights and fragrant with sweet-scented flowers. There, in the soft 
spring twilight, mingled fresh young voices in litany and hymn, 
-honoring the virtues of the most perfect of women. Is not 
the memory of such scenes of great' value amid the strife and 
temptation of after-life? 

There is an admirable opportunity for culture in the revival 
of true and pure forms of Catholic hymns and masses. A per- 
fect treasure-house of such music must be lying unused on the 
book-shelves of Europe, while all too frequently inferior com- 
positions are tolerated in most of our schools, churches, and 
cathedrals. How seldom is a bit of Palestrina used, not to 
speak of other great masters, whose names, even, are not 
known except to a few lovers of true music. 

The remedy for this state of affairs lies in training the taste 
of children in the right direction. Teach them, by the actual 
singing of good music, that church music has not for its object 
the giving of sensuous pleasure, but must be of a character to 
elevate the heart and mind far above mere earthly enjoyment, 
leading them by its spirituality and truth to reverent contem- 
plation of the Divine Sacrifice commemorated at the altar. 

The value of music in school education is just the value of 
music to the entire life. It should give to the class-room an 
uplifting, purifying influence, dispel its inevitable worries and 
cares, enhance the harmony of community of life, improve and 
gladden leisure hours ; in a word, it should make a more re- 
ceptive, responsive, sympathetic, religious human being. 




608 ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. L F eb., 



ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

BY L. W. REILLY. 

MAGNIFICENT monument to the memory of the 
celebrated Marquis de Lafayette is about to be 
erected in Paris. It is to cost $250,000 and is to 
be paid for with funds collected from little offer- 
ings made by school children in the United 
States. It is to be unveiled in 1900 during the great Exposi- 
tion that is to be inaugurated that year in the chief city of 
France. 

While the historical records of two continents are being 
ransacked for details of the career and for anecdotes illustra- 
tive of the character of that renowned champion of popular 
rights, a biographical sketch of his far nobler wife will be both 
timely and of use. 

Adrienne de Lafayette was a daughter of the Duke d'Ayen, 
eldest son of the Duke de Noailles, the proudest family in 
France next to royalty. She was one of five girls, of whom 
she was the second. She had two brothers, but they both died 
in infancy. 

BEAUTY OF HER FAMILY LIFE. 

The mother of the family, the Duchess d'Ayen, was a grande 
dame, worthy of her rank in society and noted for her clear in- 
tellect, strong will, high principles, and enlightened piety. She 
did not leave to others the training of her children. Although 
they had nurses and governesses, she was their best teacher. 
She kissed them good morning, she visited them again on her 
way to Mass, she dined with them at three o'clock, and then 
for an hour or two she had them with her in her own room. 
The apartment was large and well lighted, it was hung with 
crimson damask brocaded with gold, its furniture was rich. 
"The duchess sat in a rocking-chair near the mantel-piece, with 
her snuff-box, her books, her needles close at hand ; her five 
daughters grouped themselves round her the bigger ones on 
chairs, the smaller on foot-stools and disputed gently which 
should be nearest the rocking-chair." Whilst they sewed or 
embroidered, they chatted gaily about the persons and events 
that came within their childish orbit, and the mother took pains 



1899-] ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 609 

to draw moral lessons from the text of their innocent gossip. 
She read to them ; she listened to their reports of their 
studies ; she taught them beautiful prayers and exquisite poems. 
They gave her their unclouded confidence and vied with one 
another to please her. All too quickly for them passed the time 
spent with her. 

As the little girls grew somewhat older the duchess exerted 
more and more influence over the formation of their character. 
She would never coerce them if she could possibly convince 
them. She would lend attentive ear to their protests and would 
reason with them. Once she complained that they were not 
so prompt to obey her as other children were to mind their 
parents. 

" Small wonder, mamma," replied Adrienne, " because you 
always let us argue and object; but you will see that at fifteen 
we shall be much more docile than other girls." 

This was a wise answer, that shows the shrewdness of 
Adrienne's mind ; for if the D'Ayen children grew up with the 
conviction that their mother's commands were reasonable and 
for their good, their will would become trained to yield promptly 
to hers. 

The mother took special pains with Adrienne. " She always 
led my over-strong imagination back to the true and simple," 
the daughter wrote in after years, " and though I must confess 
that in childhood she had perhaps let me perceive her pride in 
me too plainly, yet she knew how to correct my conceit about 
this by a delineation of my faults so vivid, true, and vigorous 
that it constantly occurred to me, and every time it pierced my 
heart like an arrow ! " 

A friend who knew Adrienne, Pauline, and Rosalie in their 
maturity made the happy saying : " Their mother must have 
been a blessed woman to have hatched such a brood of angels 
beneath her wings ! " 

Louise married her cousin, the Vicomte de Noailles, and 
was guillotined in 1794. Adrienne became Madame de Lafay- 
ette, and died at Paris in 1807. The third daughter was twice 
married, and died Madame de Thesan in child-birth in 1788. 
Pauline married M. de Montagu, and died in 1837. Rosalie 
became Madame de Grammont, and survived until 1853. 

CHILDHOOD AND EARLY MARRIAGE. 

In a home of the highest refinement, under a fostering mo- 
ther's care, Adrienne's childhood was passed. When she was 



610 ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. [Feb., 

twelve years old she had her first great trouble. She was pre- 
paring for her First Communion, having already been confirmed, 
when spiritual darkness settled on her mind. She could not 
believe in the Real Presence. She was tortured with doubts 
and scruples. Long afterwards she declared that never in all 
the other trials of her life had she suffered so grievously. The 
ceremony was indefinitely postponed, and not until three years 
later, after the birth of her first child, did she receive that 
blessed Sacrament. 

Before Adrienne was thirteen a suitor for her hand appeared 
in the person of the Marquis de Lafayette, then a lad who had 
lately passed his fourteenth birthday. Her mother did not at 
first favor the match, nor finally consent to it until the young 
nobleman had agreed to finish his own education and wait 
two years for the marriage. The wedding took place in June, 

1773- 

The next two years Adrienne spent with her mother, some- 
times in Paris, sometimes at Versailles. She saw a great deal 
of society in high life, and for her sake and the sake of Louise, 
who had been married a few months before her, the duchess 
went to many balls and gave a number of entertainments. The 
young bride was, of course, presented at court. Then, in 1775, 
her husband and she set up house for themselves. They spent 
their winters in Paris and their summers in Auvergne at Chava- 
niac, the ancestral home of the Lafayettes. 

The young marquis, who had been graduated from the 
Military Academy at Versailles, now joined the army as an 
officer of the Noir Mousquetaires. He was stationed at Metz. 
There he heard the heroic details of the struggle for indepen- 
dence of England's American colonies. His impulsive heart 
was set on fire with a flame of love for popular rights and he 
forthwith resolved to go help those struggling people to achieve 
their freedom. Almost all his relatives opposed him in what 
they considered his quixotic project, and some of them even 
went to the extremity of trying to have him arrested on a 
warrant from the king ; but his magnanimous wife, who was 
with one infant in arms and was expecting the birth of another 
one, put down her own feelings and strongly encouraged him to 
carry out his chivalric purpose. 

When Lafayette returned to France in 1779, 1783, and 1785, 
Adrienne gave him his most rapturous welcome. The people 
acclaimed him a hero, but to her he was far more than a war- 
crowned celebrity. He was the light of her life. When he was 



1899-] ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 611 

with her she was radiant with happiness ; when he left her 
presence she would nearly faint. " One would have called her 
sentiment a passion," wrote one of her daughters long after- 
wards, " if this expression were in harmony with the exquisite 
delicacy which banished every idea of jealousy or, perhaps I 
should say, all the evil impulses which usually result from it. 
Nor was she ever exacting, even for a moment. It was not 
only that she kept from my father every wish that did not suit 
him she really had no bitter thought to conceal." 

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 

The terrible French Revolution began in 1789 with the 
meeting of the Notables that was subsequently named the 
National Assembly. Lafayette was present as a deputy from 
Auvergne. His family accompanied him from his estate at 
Chavaniac to Paris. He had then three children his first daugh- 
ter, Henriette, having died namely, George, called after Wash- 
ington, born in 1779 ; Anastasie, born in 1783 ; and Virginie, 
born in 1785. He took a leading part in the popular movement 
for a new constitution. His wife was his most intimate confi- 
dante and most trusted adviser. She believed in his Declara- 
tion of Rights. She shared his dream of a government of the 
people, by the people, for the people, somewhat like that of 
the American Republic, but with the king for its permanent 
president. When, however, order commenced to yield to anar- 
chy, she had forebodings of the extent of the upheaval. " She 
saw my father," wrote their daughter later on, " at the head of 
a revolt of which it was impossible to foresee the end ; every 
disorder was judged by her without the faintest illusion ; yet 
she was always supported by his principles, and convinced of 
the good he could do and the evil he could avert." 

As religion became unpopular, Madame Lafayette took pains 
to show publicly her attachment to it. Just before the Feast 
of Pikes, in 1790, she led Anastasie to church for First Com- 
munion, and when her pastor refused in his pulpit to take the 
abhorrent " Constitutional oath," she was present to display her 
sympathy with him. As the persecution progressed her house 
became a refuge for persecuted priests. She provided a num- 
ber of them with the means to leave the country. She went 
so persistently and to such lengths in the manifestation of her 
devotedness to her faith that she attracted accusing eyes and 
jeoparded her husband's popularity. 

Notwithstanding her own fervent piety, Adrienne gave all 
VOL. LXVIII. 39 



612 ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. [Feb., 

due respect to Lafayette's convictions, or, rather, lack of con- 
victions, concerning the Christian revelation. She did not ob- 
trude her devotions on him. She entertained all his guests 
with queenly courtesy, even so-called " Constitutional " ecclesias- 
tics as well as free-thinkers of all degrees. She made only one 
exception. When the Archbishop of Paris took the un-Chris- 
tian oath, and later called officially as pastor on the Lafayette 
family, she would not welcome him, but left the house that day 
and dined out at a friend's. 

VICISSITUDES OF FORTUNE. 

After the king swore to uphold the new Constitution on 
September 21, 1791, Lafayette, thinking his work finished, re- 
signed the office of commander of the National Guard and re- 
tired to Chavaniac. His wife was delighted to quit turbulent 
Paris, and she looked forward to a life of tranquillity far from 
the turmoil of politics. But her joy was short. In the spring 
of the next year France was at war with the allied princes and 
the general was summoned from his plough to command the 
army protecting the frontier. Adrienne's dream of halcyon 
days was over. She followed him in spirit to the scene of 
duty. She heard with apprehension of the battles in which he 
had engaged. In August her heart was dismayed when she 
learned that he had been declared a traitor to the government, 
had fled to escape arrest, had been caught by the Allies, and 
had been imprisoned by Prussia. 

As soon as Madame Lafayette her husband had before this 
dropped the aristocratic " de " received the sad news of her 
husband's incarceration, she had to endure not only the dis- 
tress that his misfortune caused her, but also a seizure of spirit- 
ual misery, during the continuance of which the light so faded 
from her soul that she gave up receiving Holy Communion. 
One letter from the marquis, that had been written just after 
his capture, reached her in September ; she heard from him 
twice in 1793, and then she got no message from him until 
the summer of 1795. This dearth of tidings from him was a 
source of unspeakable anxiety to her. 

The social chaos grew more confounded after the king had 
been guillotined and Robespierre was advancing towards the 
chief power in the government. During this period Madame 
Lafayette burned all the papers in her home that might be 
misconstrued against her husband, sent her only son with his 
tutor to a place of concealment in the mountains, boldly re- 



1899-] ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 613 

quested the Jacobin authorities to put their seal of loyalty upon 
her doors, and, when she visited the neighboring town of 
Brioude, refused to receive any social attentions from " patriot " 
ladies, declaring : " I regard as an insult every tribute that I 
cannot share with my husband, every word that tries to sepa- 
rate my cause from his." 

IMPRISONMENT AT CHAVANIAC. 

On September 10 the chateau of Chavaniac was surrounded 
by soldiers of the National Convention, who produced a war- 
rant for the arrest of Madame Lafayette and her conveyance 
to Paris. Hurriedly she set off with her rude escort for Puy, 
the capital of the Department of Auvergne, where a legal ex- 
amination of her was first to be held. Anastasie, then a child 
of seven, insisted on accompanying her. As they entered the 
city stones were thrown at them by a rabble of anti-aristo- 
crats. The little girl showed no fear, but tried to shield her 
mother. " If your father knew that you were here," said Adri- 
enne to her daughter, " he would be worried, but he would be 
very proud of you." When she was led before the municipal 
court madame pleaded her husband's cause and her own so 
calmly, reasonably, and persuasively recalling his Declaration 
of Rights and his zeal for republican institutions that the on- 
lookers broke out into applause and the officials were won over 
to her side. She then entreated the judges not to send her to 
Paris, but if she must be restrained of her liberty, to let her 
prison be Chavaniac, where she could care for her children, 
and whence she promised not to stir without permission. So 
moved was the court by her convincing argument that her 
request was provisionally granted. The judge wrote to the 
ministry in Paris, especially to M. Roland, to point out the 
difficulties in the way of taking a woman to that city, and ask- 
ing permission to let her stay at home on parole. To this 
arrangement the ministry consented. 

So madame went back from Puy to Chavaniac. But some 
soldiers were sent to her residence to keep her under espionage. 
She objected to their presence. She had given her pledge of 
honor not to leave her estate without permission, and she thought 
that that should suffice. Accordingly she addressed the authori- 
ties : " I declare, messieurs, that if you put a guard at my door 
I retract my word. I am not shocked at your not believing 
me an honest woman, for my husband proved much more 
effectually that he was a good patriot; but I must beg you to 



614 ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. [Feb., 

allow me my faith in my own integrity and not to cumber my 
word with bayonets." 

It took a lion's heart for a woman whose husband was under 
ban as a traitor, and who was herself virtually a prisoner, to 
speak to the lawless officials like that. But they took her 
audacious frankness in good part and she gained her point. 

PLANS FOR LIBERATING HER HUSBAND. 

Now Adrienne set herself the task of liberating her husband. 
She wrote to Washington begging him to intercede for his 
former companion-in-arms, and she pleaded so pathetically that 
the President broke his rule not to meddle in European affairs. 
She entreated M. Roland to give her a passport to leave 
France. She implored the same grace from M. Brissot. She 
addressed a petition to King Frederick of Prussia. She sought 
assistance in a hundred other quarters. But all her efforts were 
in vain and most of her letters were even left unanswered. 

In the following spring M. Roland sent word to her that 
she was no longer in detention. But other troubles beset her. 
She was notified that Lafayette's possessions were sequestrated 
on the ground that he was an tmigrt that is, a person who had 
abandoned his country. In June she heard from him from his 
Magdeburg prison, receiving two letters that described the 
indignities and hardships to which he was being subjected. 
Debts pressed upon her for the very necessaries of life. She 
had no income and could get no loan. Her multiplied miser- 
ies brought her back to God and to the practice of religion. 
Then, when she again went to Holy Communion, the American 
minister to France, Gouverneur Morris, loaned her a large sum 
of money and refused any security. 

Adrienne had new courage by this, of which she gave 
repeated proofs, for when many ladies, in order to save them- 
selves from danger of the guillotine and their property from 
risk of confiscation, sought divorces from their husbands, who 
had fled to other lands, she signed all her letters and documents 
"La femme Lafayette." 

Chavaniac was put up for sale in September by the authori- 
ties, but Lafayette's old aunt and his wife made a protest and 
obtained a postponement of the spoliation. 

INCREASING MISFORTUNES. 

At last, on November 13, 1793, after repeated domiciliary 
visits and examinations, Madame Lafayette was arrested in 



1899-] ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 615 

accordance with the atrocious Decree of the Suspected that 
ordered the apprehension of all relatives of dmigrtfs. She was 
taken in a cart to the prison of Brioude. Her fortitude rose 
to meet the magnitude of her misfortune. At once her strong 
will, her affectionate disposition, and her active temperament 
made her the visible guardian angel of the crowded pen. She 
comforted the sorrowful, gave hope to the downcast, and rallied 
the faint-hearted. In the fetid conditions of the jail, in which 
sanitary requirements were disregarded, a Tever soon broke out. 
Then the high-born marquise became nurse of the afflicted 
prisoners. Moreover, she had tribulations of her own to bear, 
for now she was unnerved by the sad news that her grand- 
mother, her mother, and her favorite sister, Louise, " la celeste 
vicomtesse," had been arrested and imprisoned in Paris, and 
shortly afterwards, on May 8, an order was received for her 
own removal to that city. 

Adrienne reached Paris on May 19. She was stunned by 
the changes in the town the disorder, the license of the mob, 
the deaths of persons known to her of which she then heard 
for the first time, and the daily execution of two to three score 
persons after a summary and farcical trial. She was incarcer- 
ated in the prison of La Petite Force. After a fortnight's stay 
there she was taken to Le Plessis, which was formerly a col- 
lege and in which her husband had at one time been a student. 
There were already about nineteen hundred persons huddled 
into its rooms. Among these unfortunates Adrienne found her 
cousin, Madame de Duras, the sister-in-law of Louise. 

To add to Madame Lafayette's miseries, her husband's estate 
of Chavaniac was now sold by the republic, but the old aunt 
and the children were allowed to stay there for a while. 

HORRORS OF PRISON LIFE. 

The prison of Le Plessis was like a hell upon earth. It was 
overcrowded with a motley multitude of men and women, 
among whom were some of the most vicious and some of the 
coarsest from the criminal classes, as well as aristocrats, nuns, 
and other ladies. The jailers were brutes. They starved, abused, 
insulted, and struck their prisoners. They liked to torment 
persons of refinement like Madame Lafayette. They made 
sport of them with indecent jokes, they put them into cells with 
lewd and blasphemous harridans, they stole their belongings, they 
taunted them with their reverses, and they constantly reminded 
them of their probable fate. They were like fiends incarnate. 



616 ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. [Feb., 

Following the example of other property-owners, Adrienne 
drew up her own will. In it she wrote : " I forgive my ene- 
mies if I have any with all my heart, and my persecutors, 
whoever they be even the persecutors of those I love." 

Daily the tumbril rolled away from the prison with its load 
of victims for the guillotine. The marquise became, as it were, 
used to its call. Once, after she had calmly listened as the 
names of the condemned for that day were called out, she was 
complimented on her nerve. She replied : " The idea that one 
will soon be of their number makes me strong enough to 
endure such a sight ! " But often her heart failed her, and then 
only faith kept her from collapse and insanity. After hearing 
of some fresh horror or witnessing some more than ordinarily 
atrocious outrage in the jail, she would raise her eyes towards 
heaven and revive her drooping spirit with the whisper : " I 
believe in God the Father Almighty." And trusting in him 
she took new courage to face what lay before her. 

Small-pox invaded the filthy prison and gave Adrienne and 
her cousin opportunities for the practice of heroic charity in 
the care of the patients, which they were zealous and brave to 
utilize. 

On July 22 the Duchess d'Ayen, her husband's mother, and 
her daughter Louise de Noailles, who had been imprisoned in 
the Luxembourg, were guillotined. Adrienne heard the next 
morning of their execution. She was plunged into grief. For 
days and days she moaned and brooded and wept. Later she 
wrote to her children : " Thank God for having preserved my 
life, my mind, my health ; do not regret having been far from 
me. God kept me from revolting against him, but I should 
not have been able for a long time to endure even the sem- 
blance of human consolation." 

It was months before the other D'Ayen sisters heard of their 
great loss. Then Madame de Grammont wrote to Madame de 
Montagu : " Your own heart will make you judge of mine, which, 
nevertheless, is less horror-stricken than you might suppose. 
For the third time since our sorrows, our Lord has visited me 
and upheld me in my human agony. But Adrienne! the 
strength of Adrienne ! It must be the same Arm that sustains 
her in her dungeon, for where else could she get her courage! " 

END OF THE REIGN OF TERROR. 

At last the Reign of Terror wore itself out. The people 
tired of slaughter and of the pandemonium. The leaders of the 



1899-] ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 617 

wild tyranny that was called a government were turning their 
fury against one another. Robespierre, who had sent a multi- 
tude to their doom, had his own head cut off on July 28, 1794. 
Then, slowly, order and justice and peace were restored. The 
prison doors were opened by commissioners from the Committee 
of Safety and some of the surviving prisoners of the Revolu- 
tion were set free. Madame de Duras was liberated on October 
19. Mr. James Monroe, who was then American minister to 
France, accompanied by his wife, visited Madame Lafayette in 
her prison, and also helped to save her life as well as to secure 
her freedom. His predecessor, Gouverneur Morris, had success- 
fully intervened in her behalf before, for he had warned the 
government that if it killed the wife of Lafayette all the enemies 
of popular institutions would rejoice and the opposition to the 
Republic would receive fresh reinforcements. The Commission- 
ers Legendre and Bourdon de TOise called to examine her on 
October 18, 1794. The former treated her with contumely. 
" I have old scores against you," he said ; " I detest yourself, 
your husband, and your name." " I will always defend my 
husband," was the instant reply, " and a name is not a wrong." 
With equal spirit she answered all his inquiries. He grew more 
harsh and threatening. When he intimated that he would not 
release her, she requested him to show her papers to the 
Committee of Safety. " Ha ! " he snorted, " you did not talk 
so meekly in the old days ; you are an insolent ! " He would 
not take the documents and ordered her to be taken back to 
her cell. 

Finally, however, the intercession of the American minister 
prevailed. Madame Lafayette was transferred, first to the 
prison in the Rue des Amandiers and then to Notre Dame des 
Champs. A little later, on January 22, 1795, she was set at 
liberty. 

Like a ghost arisen from a tomb after a dark period of 
horrors, Adrienne went to thank Mr. Monroe. Next she fled 
from the city and took refuge with the De Se"gurs, Lafayette's 
cousins, who lived a few miles from town. 

GATHERING THE FAMILY TOGETHER. 

Free herself, Madame Lafayette's first thought was for the 
freedom of her husband. She made up her mind to risk all 
perils and go to him. She decided to send her only son to the 
United States to the care of Washington, so as to insure his 
safety and thus get rid of one great embarrassment in the 



618 ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. [Feb., 

prosecution of her marital enterprise. She had him brought to 
her, embraced him, gave him many loving admonitions, and, 
with a serene countenance but a troubled heart, she bade him 
good-by, as he and his tutor, M. Frestel, set out for a port 
from which to sail for America. Then she went in search of 
her girls and met them in a mountain village near Clermont. 
The next day was Sunday, and the three assisted at Mass in 
a chapel among the hills. A day or two later Virginie made 
her First Communion. Then the party journeyed towards 
Chavaniac, where the old aunt survived and held on to the 
ancestral estate, which she had managed to repurchase. At 
Brioude, Adrienne's sister Rosalie, who during the Revolution 
had remained safely hidden, with her husband and three chil- 
dren, in the depths of the country, met her and accompanied 
her home. While waiting for a passport for herself and her 
daughters, Madame Lafayette, always courageous and business- 
like, used her time in an endeavor to recover her husband's 
confiscated property and to secure for herself the farm of 
Lagrange, forty miles from Paris, which her mother, the Duchess 
d'Ayen, had bequeathed to her. To accomplish her purpose 
she made several journeys on foot to Paris. She took great 
hazards and overcame every obstacle. What would she not dare 
was she not working for the one she loved best in all the 
world and for his children ? 

Early in September, 1795, the coveted passport was received. 
But it was made out to give her permission to go to America. 
Instantly she determined to use it to get out of France and 
after that to take her chances. So, on September 5, she, her 
two daughters, and the five De Grammonts sailed from Dun- 
kerque. As soon as the vessel reached Hamburg, they left it 
and made their way to Altona on the Baltic, where an aunt of 
the two ladies, Madame de Tesse", had bought a farm and where 
the whole Montagu family had already found a refuge. 

The three sisters had much to say to one another ; but 
Adrienne could neither talk nor listen with a quiet heart the 
vision of her husband in a dungeon was always before her 
mind, as was also her purpose to go to him. He was then at 
Olmiitz, having been turned over by Prussia to the charge of 
Austria. Accordingly, taking her two little girls with her, she 
started for Vienna. She went as Mrs. Motiers, a traveller from 
Connecticut in the United States. Arrived at the Austrian 
capital, she visited the grand chamberlain, the old Prince of 
Rosemberg, who formerly had relations with the De Noailles. 



1899-] ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 619 

He consented, at her sorrowful entreaty, to smuggle her into 
the presence of the emperor without the knowledge of the 
ministers. He did obtain for her the desired audience. The 
monarch received her with courtesy and listened attentively to 
her long and impassioned plea. She struggled to keep down 
her feelings, while her very heart trembled with emotion, in 
order that she might be the more free to speak. But some 
tears would come. In conclusion she asked that, if the libera- 
tion of her husband could not be accorded her, she might be 
permitted to share his imprisonment. 

"I grant your request," was the imperial answer; "his 
liberty I cannot give, for my hands are tied ; but you may go 
to him and remain with him." 

VISITS LAFAYETTE IN PRISON. 

As soon as the official permit was signed, Madame Lafay- 
ette, with her little girls, set out for Olmiitz. On the evening 
before her arrival she wrote : "I do not know how people 
bear what we are going to bear to-morrow ! " As they neared 
the town and the driver of the coach pointed out its spires in 
the distance, Adrienne shed tears of exaltation of gratitude to 
God for bringing her so far safe, and of joy at the prospect of 
again embracing her best beloved. Then, with quavering voice, 
she broke out in the Song of Tobias the song that he sung as 
his son, with a bride, returned to his home his home in Baby- 
lonian captivity : " Thou art great, O Lord, for ever, and thy 
kingdom is unto all ages. For thou scourgest, and thou 
savest ; thou leadest down to hell, and bringest up again ; and 
there is none that can escape thy hand. Give glory to the 
Lord, ye children of Israel, and praise him in sight of the 
Gentiles." 

Unannounced, the wife and the daughters of the captive 
were thrust into his cell. He was so changed by privations, 
illness, and anxieties that Adrienne for an instant hardly knew 
him. The sight of him so altered was a great shock to her. 
But her momentary set-back was forgotten in the flood of joy 
when she was again locked in his arms. 

Lafayette's own health began to improve in the company of 
his dear ones, especially as some of the wanton rigors of his 
incarceration were relaxed shortly after the advent of his wife. 
But she and the children suffered from the confinement. 
There was an open sewer below their window, the air of the 
dungeon was foul, the food served was coarse and meagre. 



620 ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. [Feb., 

At last one of the girls fell sick with an infectious fever. No 
privileges were allowed, and not even a separate bed was pro- 
vided for the other child. Next, Madame Lafayette broke 
down with blood-poisoning. After all pleadings with the -prison 
officials had failed, she wrote to the emperor imploring him to 
allow her to see a physician in Vienna. The heartless reply 
was that she might make the journey to the capital, but that 
she would not be permitted to return to Olmiitz. Life itself 
was ' worthless to her on that condition, so she promptly de- 
cided to suffer the disease to take its course and to put an end 
to her existence if it would; better death than further separa- 
tion from her husband. 

Lafayette bore these new troubles with his characteristic 
equanimity. " He has lost none of his gentleness," Adrienne 
wrote to her aunt, " and is pushing to excess what you call 
the weakness of a great passion. You will not be surprised to 
hear that he makes his friends swear not to plead for him on 
any occasion except in a way that is compatible with his 
principles." 

RELEASED BY NAPOLEON. 

At length, when Napoleon, who had crossed the Alps with 
his victorious legions from Italy into Austria, demanded as the 
first condition of peace that Lafayette should be released, the 
Father of the French Revolution, his wife and daughters, and 
his two aids-de-camp, De Maubourg and De Pusy, emerged in 
September, 1797, from their jail. 

The Lafayettes went to Dresden, then to Hamburg, and 
next to Wittmold, near Altona, where they remained for a 
year, when they moved to Holland and took up their residence 
at Vianen, near Utrecht. They could not return to France, for 
the marquis was still under sentence there as a traitor, and the 
Directoire refused to remove the ban because he would not thank 
them as in any way accountable for his liberation. He despised 
them for their divergence from the Constitution which he had 
sworn to support and for their lawless tyrannies. 

Meanwhile Washington had sent a gift of money to Adrienne, 
an eccentric Englishwoman had settled five thousand dollars a 
year on Lafayette, George had returned from America, and 
Anastasie had been married to young De Maubourg. 

To attend to the care of their property in France, Adrienne 
returned to Paris, and thence made trips to Lagrange and 
Chavaniac. Her health was feeble, but her spirit was still 



1899-] ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 621 

high. She quickly set in order her business affairs, and then 
she went back to the metropolis to watch the course of events, 
to keep her husband posted on the shifting scenes of the 
kaleidoscope of politics, and to plan for his return. When 
Napoleon hurried back from Egypt in October, 1799, she felt 
that the days of the Directoire were numbered, and shortly 
after the future emperor had obliterated the de facto govern- 
ment and proclaimed himself first consul of the Republic she 
wrote to Lafayette that his exile might as well be brought to an 
end. He needed no second invitation, and was soon at her side. 

RELATIONS WITH THE FIRST CONSUL. 

Napoleon was furious at Lafayette's audacity in coming 
back without his knowledge or consent. He feared the hero 
of '89. He threatened to put him out of the way. Talleyrand 
and others who heard these menaces advised the marquis to re- 
turn to Holland. Then the latter's wife took it upon herself 
to visit the consul. She made a masterly statement -of her 
husband's devotion to the welfare of the French people and of 
his freedom from intrigues against the Bonaparte regime. The 
tyrant was persuaded by it as well as fascinated with her force- 
ful personality. 

"I am charmed," he said, "to make your acquaintance, 
madame, and you have a great deal of mind ; but you do not 
understand me. General Lafayette, however, will understand ; 
and as he has not been in the midst of affairs, he will feel 
that I can judge better than he. I therefore conjure him to 
avoid all publicity; I leave it to his patriotism." 

When the consul saw that Lafayette had apparently no in- 
tention to thrust himself again into politics or to contend with 
him for the first place in the government, he put aside his own 
jealousy, restored him to citizenship, and even sought to win 
his friendship and his support. 

The Lafayettes retired to Lagrange and thenceforward 
made that chateau their chosen home. The marquis devoted 
himself to agriculture and his wife gave her time to domestic 
cares and to works of charity. 

In 1802, when the Peace of Amiens took the British states- 
man Charles Fox to Paris, he paid a long-promised visit to 
the Lafayettes. He was charmed with the whole family, but he 
was most captivated by Adrienne " the woman," he said, 
"who flew to Olmiitz on the wings of love and duty.", 

George married a daughter of Tracy, who was formerly a 



622 ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. [Feb., 

member of the Constituent Assembly, and Virginie was mar- 
ried to Louis de Lasteyrie, an officer in the French army. 
The whole family lived at Lagrange in patriarchal simplicity 
and happiness. 

Adrienne and Pauline made a sad pilgrimage to Paris to 
discover the burial-place of their grandmother, mother, and 
sister. They found in a garret a poor lace-mender who had 
followed the cart that had carried her father's and brother's 
corpses, and the bodies of others guillotined that day, from the 
square of execution to the pit where dust was dumped to dust. 
She led them to the spot of interment. It was a wild region 
outside the Barriere du Trone, and belonged to a ruined 
Augustinian monastery. It was known as the Cemetery of 
Picpus. They determined to buy it. Then they ascertained 
that the Princess Hohenzollern, whose brother had been guil- 
lotined, had purchased the small piece of ground where the 
victims had actually been buried. But they resolved to get 
possession of the rest of the land. They raised a large sum 
of money from their aristocratic acquaintances, secured the 
property, and restored the chapel. Next they put up a marble 
tablet behind the altar with the names of sixteen hundred per- 
sons, copied from the lists in the Concierge, who had been 
executed in the last six weeks of the Terror, and whose re- 
mains had been thrown indiscriminately into immense trenches 
dug in that graveyard to receive them and then filled up. 
Most of the dead were, strange to say, men and women of the 
humbler classes. The sisters gave the chapel to the Nuns of 
the Perpetual Adoration, and made provision for the celebra- 
tion every morning of a Mass of Requiem. 

LAST DAYS. 

Now came the last days of Madame Lafayette. The blood- 
poisoning that had been contracted at Olmiitz was never 
thoroughly cured. It had made her a semi-invalid for years. 
In the fall of 1807 it broke out again with redoubled virulence. 
On October n she heard Mass for the last time. A few days 
later she was moved to Madame de Tesse's country-place at 
Aulnay, and thence, as the malady increased, to that lady's 
residence in Paris. Her pain was excruciating, her body was 
covered with open sores, and the virus strangely affected her 
mind; but her serenity of soul remained unclouded, and her 
piety shone even in the eclipse of her intellect and the pertur- 
bations of her will. 



1899-] ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 623 

One day Lafayette complimented her on her patience. 

" It is true," she answered, " God made me gentle ; but it 
is not like your gentleness I have no such high pretension. 
You are as strong as you are gentle ; you see things on such a 
big scale. But it is true that I am gentle and you are very 
good to me." 

" It is you who are good and generous," her husband re- 
plied, " above all other women. Do you remember my first 
departure for America how all the world was in arms against 
me and you managed to hide your tears at M. de Segur's wed- 
ding ? You -did not want to look unhappy for fear that I 
should be blamed for it." 

"You are right," she said, "and it was pretty good for a 
child. But how nice of you to remember things that happened 
so long ago ! " 

EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS. 

In a long letter to his old friend De Maubourg, the 
father of the husband of Anastasie, Lafayette wrote full details 
of Adrienne's sufferings, her fortitude, her piety, her zeal far 
his conversion, and her peaceful end. These interesting ex- 
tracts are taken from it : 

" Her confessor came to see her. In the evening she said 
to me: * If I go into the other world, you will know that I 
shall be very busy about you. The sacrifice of my life would 
be nothing, whatever it cost me to part with you, if it assured 
your eternal happiness/ The day on which she received the 
last Sacraments (which she did so that her daughters might not 
feel troubled at the last moment) she set great store on my 
being present. After this she fell into a state of chronic wan- 
dering that lasted till her death. . . . Yet I never saw her 
mistaken about me, excepting once or twice for a moment 
when she imagined that I was a fervent Christian. . . . 

" Her disordered imagination was never invariably fixed, 
except in regard to me. It seemed as if this impression was 
too deep to be affected stronger than disease, stronger than 
death itself. For this angelic creature already no longer ex- 
isted here everything in her was frozen ; and feeling as well 
as vitality had found their last refuge in the hand that pressed 
mine. Perhaps she abandoned herself more freely to the ex- 
pression of her tenderness than if she had had all her rea- 
son. . . . She would have felt obliged to distract herself 
more severely from the sentiment which, as she said, gave life 



624 ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. [Feb., 

to every fibre of her body. . . . ' How fervently I ought to 
thank God/ she exclaimed during her illness, ' that my strong- 
est passion has been also, my duty! ' And on the day of her 
death, ' How happy I have been ! ' she whispered ; ' what a 
destiny to have been your wife!* Then when I spoke to her 
of my love, ' True,' she answered in the most touching voice ; 

* yes, it is true. How kind you are ! Say it once again it 
gives me much pleasure to hear it. If you think I do not love 
you enough, you must blame God for it. He has not given 
me more faculty than that. I love you,' she cried, ' I love you, 
Christianly, mundanely, passionately ! ' . . . 

" In spite of the entanglement of her ideas, she had a pre- 
sentiment of death. On her last night but one I heard her say 
to her nurse : * Do not leave me ; tell me when the [moment 
for death comes.' I approached her and she grew calm imme- 
diately ; but when I spoke to her of returning to Lagrange, 
' Oh, no,' she exclaimed, ' I shall die ! Have you any grudge 
against me ? ' * Why should I, my darling ? ' I replied ; ' you 
have always been so good and tender.' * So I have been a 
pleasant companion to you ? ' she asked. ' You have indeed.' 
' Well then, bless me ! ' All these last evenings, when I left 
her or she thought that I was doing, so, she begged me to 
bless her. . . . 

" Sometimes she was heard to pray in her bed, . . . and 
once she improvised a beautiful prayer which lasted an hour. 
She made her daughters read aloud to her the prayers of the 
Mass and noticed whatever was left out for fear of fatiguing 
her. There was something heavenly about the way in which, 
on one of her last nights, in a strong, emphatic voice she 
twice repeated the canticle of Tobias, the same that she had 
chanted to her daughters when she first caught sight of the 
towers of Olmiitz. I went to her. ' It is by Tobias,' she said ; 

* I sing badly now ; that is why I recited it ! ' Her doctor de- 
clared that never in the whole course of his long practice had 
he seen anything approaching her adorable character and her 
strange delirium. * No,' he exclaimed, * I have never seen any- 
thing which could give me an idea that human perfection could 
go so far ! . . ." 

" The next day was an anniversary very dear to our hearts 
the day on which twenty-eight years before she had given me 
George. It seemed this time as if she were inebriated with 
bliss. This day of rejoicing between her and me was that of 
her death." 



1899-] ADRIENNE, THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 625 

It was Christmas eve in the year 1807. 

On the following Monday, after the religious rites, her re- 
mains were borne with great simplicity, as she had desired, to 
a place close by the ditch where her grandmother, mother, and 
sister had been buried, and were there piously interred. 

DEVOTION TO HER MEMORY. 

" I shall never rise again," continued Lafayette to his bosom 
friend. " During the thirty-four years of a union in which the 
love and the high-mindedness, the delicacy and the generosity 
of her soul, charmed, adorned, and honored my days, I was so 
much accustomed to all that she was to me that I did not dis- 
tinguish her from my own existence. Her heart wedded all 
that interested me. I thought that I loved her, needed her; 
but it is only in losing her that' I can at last clearly see the 
wreck of me that remains for the rest of my life a life which 
was to have been given up to many diversions, but for which 
neither joy nor care is any longer possible." 

Faithful to his wife's memory Lafayette remained during the 
twenty-seven years that he survived her. He wore her portrait 
fixed to a chain around his neck. On the gold medallion that 
contained it were inscribed the words : " So I have been a 
pleasant companion to you? Well then, bless me!" Every 
morning, before he left his bed-room, he spent a quarter of an 
hour looking at her face, kissing it, and recalling all that she 
had been to him. " On the rare occasions," wrote one of his 
daughters, " when something prevented him from doing this, he 
was perturbed for the rest of the day." Her room at Lagrange 
was kept precisely as she had left it, and the anniversary of 
her death he spent there alone with her. He read the reli- 
gious books that she had recommended to him in the hope of 
convincing him of the Divinity of Christ ; he went to church 
every morning to be present at the celebration of Mass ; he 
studied the Gospels over and over ; and when finally his own 
death was at hand he so drew near her in faith that the 
Church could let him be placed by her side in the Picpus 
Cemetery. 

Adrienne d'Ayen Lafayette was a valiant woman and her 
memory is held in benediction ! 



626 THE Music OF THE MART. [Feb., 




<9HE OQUSIG OF THE 



BY JOHN JEROME ROONEY. 
I. 

HAVE listened to the music of the waters flowing free 
With a merry rhythmic ripple thro* the forest and the lea, 
Dancing down the rocky passes to the noble-hearted 

valley, 
Scolding, leaping, laughing, sleeping now a paufee and 

now a rally 

And beside the booming ocean in the stillness of the night 
I have hearkened, spirit-humbled, to the harmony of might. 
All the golden stars were singing, Sun was calling unto Sun, 
And the discord of the planets into harmony was spun ; 
Still my fancy wandered backward to the throbbing city street, 
Ringing, ringing, ringing ever with the rush of many feet, 
While I heard an old strain knocking, beating, beating at my 

heart, 
And I hailed the dear intruder as the music of the mart. 

II. 

Beside the mighty organ with its marvel, thunder voice, 
Calling " Welcome " to the bridegroom and the maiden of his 

choice, 

I have listened, I have listened and have heard the fickle tones 
Leap from merriment and laughter unto grim funereal moans ; 
In the strident strains of battle, in the braying bugle peal 
There are cries of mothers' anguish, there are sounds of clash- 

ing steel, 

And the victor's song of triumph for a glory all fulfilled 
Bears an echo of the sadness of the voices that are stilled ! 
Tho' a hundred chords are rising in a grand orchestral tide 
Sweeping through the ravished senses in a current broad and 

wide, 

I may hear a friendlier cadence than the symphony of art 
If I hearken to the pulsing of the music of the mart. 



1 899-] 



THE Music OF THE MART. 



627 



III. 

There is something dearly human in the ceaseless ebb and flow, 
In the hum of greeting voices, in the passing to and fro, 
Something in the vast endeavor, in the world-embracing plan, 
Telling us we all are brothers in the brotherhood of man ; 
Flashing from the golden rainbow, speaking from the fruitful 

sod, 

Of the marvel of all marvels, of the Fatherhood of God! 
Darkest eyes may see the vision, dullest ears may hear the 

strain 

Ringing thro' the city highway, breathing in the country lane. 
If we see not, if we hear not, ours the darkness and the blight 
Bid it so, and lo ! the Cosmos swings in harmony and light : 
And the strains of spheral music that within the soul upstart 
Find an echo in the rolling of the music of the mart! 




VOL. LXVIII. 40 




628 THE OLD CHURCHES OF ROUEN. [Feb., 

THE OLD CHURCHES OF ROUEN. 

BY EMMA ENDRES. 

HERE is something indefinably impressive and 
fascinating about an old church. Beautiful build- 
ings of all descriptions have a pleasing effect 
on the mind, but the hoary temple of faith has 
a charm which is sublime and supreme. It is 
not altogether the pervading atmosphere of sanctity that so im- 
presses us, for other minds than those of believers are similarly 
affected. 

Can it be that we unwittingly recognize in these cemented 
stones the physical expression of the one great institution that 
knows no age, no nationality that is almost as old as civiliza- 
tion and as broad as the human race itself ? Can it be that 
while dynasties fall and palaces are turned into parliaments, 
the church alone, among the wreck of human institutions strew- 
ing the pages of history, remains true to its original purpose 
the temple of God ? And can it be that while contemplating 
an old church one time-worn and gray, whose beauty is of 
that pathetic, endearing kind seen only in something that has 
made a valiant struggle against fate and has succumbed to that 
gentle decay inevitable in all things earthly we intuitively 
realize we are gazing on the beauty-ideals of an age long dead 
and otherwise unknown ? Impressed thus, do the hoary stones 
assume an expression of something beyond mere material love- 
liness, as if the builders had been inspired otherwise than 
toward worldly display ? Do we, in fact, seem to look upon 
the soul of the race when it was young and ardent ? It must 
be so ; else, what other interpretation ? 

Nowhere in the world is the old ecclesiastical architecture 
seen in all its varied perfections as in the ancient French city 
of Rouen. Whether we single out the grand cathedral of 
Notre Dame, with its marvellous fagade of elaborate lace-like 
tracery on a prodigious scale ; the chaste and colossal edifice 
of St. Ouen, or any other of the old and beautiful churches 
still standing, we have in each the perfection of its kind. And 
it is strange that we should find this unique cluster of sacred 
buildings in so battle-torn a city as Rouen. It would seem as 



1 899.] 



THE OLD CHURCHES OP ROUEN. 



629 



if the stones were 
only cemented 
more strongly un- 
der assault, and 
the beauty of their 
chiselling intensi- 
fied by the scars of 
mutilation. Cer- 
tainly none of the 
old churches of 
France have en- 
dured more or 
show it less ! 

Rouen is one 
of the most an- 
cient and storied 
cities in Europe, 
and its history in 
so many respects 
touches upon our 
subject that it be- 
comes necessary 
to briefly sketch 
it. As the capital 
of the Gallic tribe 
of Velocasses, it 
was a flourishing 
city in the second 
century, having 
the name of Roth- 
omagus. The old 
Roman walls that, 
in part, still exist 
attest its occupation at some remote period by the great conquer- 
ors from the south, but its bishops seem to have been its only his- 
torians in those early days. St. Mellon, consecrated in 260, was 
its first prelate and under him appeared the first church dedi- 
cated to the Virgin. Under St Victrix, his successor, numerous 
churches were erected, the saintly man himself assisting in the 
laborious manual labor. In the time of St. Godard, who died 
in 529, Rouen was seized from the Romans by Clovis and made 
a French town. We find its first great church, the Abbey of 
St. Peter (now St. Ouen), founded about this time by Clotaire I. 




"THE CATHEDRAL, WITH ITS FACADE OF ELABORATE LACE- 
LIKE TRACERY." 



6 jo THE OLD CHURCHES OF ROUEN. [Feb., 

The town suffered invasion by the Northmen in 841, and for 
a period of nearly fifty years remained in a state of anar- 
chy and devastation. With the final enthronement of Rollo as 
Duke of Normandy, early in the tenth century, peace and order 
once more prevailed and an era of prosperity set in. The 
town was made the capital of Normandy and rechristened to its 
present name. Philip Augustus besieged and took the city in 
1204 and annexed it to the French domains. He built the 
massive old stronghold, the Chateau de Bonvreuil, of which 
only the Tour Jeanne d'Arc where the heroic soldier-maid 
was put to torture now remains. In the old market-place, now 
called the Place de la Pucelle, this devout and intrepid woman 
was burned alive at the stake in 1431. 

Of the wanton depredations that the old town suffered 
under the Huguenot invasions, and the still more vicious rav- 
ages that marked the Revolution when the church tombs were 
despoiled of their dead and the bells and the lead of the roofs 
were melted into bullets mention is here unnecessary, the out- 
rage not having been forgotten to this day. 

Suffice it to say that Christianity was not annihilated, and 
Rouen lost little if any of the ecclesiastical grandeur that for 
ages has been its pride and fame. And so long as she retains 
these grand old edifices she must ever be a city of interest to 
mankind in general, a Mecca of pilgrimage to those who love 
the beautiful and inspired in art and feel reverence toward all 
that is noble and good in the character of the past. 

Naturally, our first impulse leads us to the far-famed cathe- 
dral of Notre Dame. Coming suddenly upon it from the nar- 
row, irregular street, the effect upon one is that of stupefaction. 
We stand dazed at the prodigious spectacle looming up loftily 
out of its own dense shadows and broad beyond the capacity 
of one single view. We marvel at the vast display of statues 
and ornamental carvings adorning almost every inch of the 
western facade, and are enraptured at the rich traceries that 
divide the three great portals, stretching up into fairy-like pinna- 
cles. Higher up are some sharp gables and screens of open 
tracery, which might well be called poetry in stone. We some- 
how seem relieved to know that all this gorgeous magnificence 
is not the conception of any one mind nor the work of any 
one generation. Were it so, we should feel that a hopeless 
retrogradatipn in human capability had since taken place. The 
central portal and all the upper part date from as late as the 
sixteenth century and were the work of Cardinal d'Amboise, 



1899-] THE OLD CHURCHES OF ROUEN. 631 

while the two side porches date from the thirteenth century. 
Over the central door is carved the genealogy of the Blessed 
Virgin, on the left is the martyrdom of St. John the Baptist, 
and on the right the Virgin surrounded by saints. Two mas- 
sive square towers flank the lateral walls and give this front 
its enormous width of nearly 200 feet. The one on the right 
is 230 feet high, girt with pinnacled buttresses and surmounted 
by an octagonal turret. It was begun in 1485 by Robert de 
Croixmare, Archbishop of Rouen, and finished in 1507. It is 
called the Butter Tower, from the fact that it was built with 
the donations of those who received dispensation to eat butter 
during Lent. This tower formerly contained the famous bell 
Georges d'Amboise, named after the great cardinal ; it weighed 
thirty-six thousand pounds, and was ten feet high by thirty 
feet in circumference. On the occasion of the visit of Louis 
XVI. to Rouen in 1786 the bell was rung so loudly that it 
cracked. At the Revolution it was melted down into cannon, 
but a fragment is still to be seen in the Rouen museum of 
antiquities. The companion tower, called St. Remain, is of 
lesser height, but is much older, dating from the twelfth cen- 
tury. It is of a severer style than the rest of the building, 
being of the massive, early pointed order, adorned with arcades, 
surmounted by a lofty belfry and a steep, cone-shaped roof. 
At the time of the Revolution the belfry had a grand peal of 
eleven bells. 

The north front, though less elaborate, is equally beautiful, 
with a deeply recessed portal lined with statues and surmounted 
by a lofty gable, a traceried arcade, and a superb rose window. 
There are two magnificent open towers on either side. This 
entrance, called the Portail des Librairies, from the number of 
booksellers' stalls formerly opposite it, was begun in 1280, but 
did not reach completion until 1478. The southern front, much 
on the same plan, has an ornamental bas-relief representing 
scenes in the life of St. Joseph. From the centre of the edi- 
fice rises a lofty modern spire, whose sole claim to distinc- 
tion is its great height nearly five hundred feet. 

The interior is beautiful and vast, measuring 435 feet in 
length and almost 180 feet across the transepts, while the nave 
stretches up in lofty sublimity to a height of 90 feet. It will 
thus be seen that the plan of the church is cruciform. One is 
enchanted with the massive clusters of beautifully carved 
columns that support the heavy, moulded arches of the nave, 
and words fail to describe the gorgeous effect of light and 



632 THE OLD CHURCHES OF ROUEN. [Feb., 

shade and color made by the three high rose windows, and 
the ancient stained glass of the apse and choir aisles. On the 
right side of the choir is a lovely old thirteenth century win- 
dow, representing the Passion of our Lord, and the left aisle 
of the nave also contains a remarkable piece of art in glass, 
depicting incidents in the life of St. John the Baptist. 

The choir is one of the oldest parts of the existing edifice, 
dating from the thirteenth century. It is partitioned off from 
the nave by a Grecian screen, and contains eighty-five quaintly 
carved stalls that are extremely interesting. Small marble tab- 
lets in the pavement mark the places where many noted rulers 
were originally interred ; among them we notice the spot where 
the heart of Richard Cceur de Lion (now in the museum) was 
deposited. Near by is the monument to this famous warrior 
with his long-lost effigy. It is a life-size recumbent statue in 
limestone ; the head is crowned and supported by a pillow, the 
left hand holds a sceptre, and at the feet is a lion couchant. 
This effigy, which bears evidence of being thirteenth century 
work, was buried in 1562 to preserve it from the Huguenots, 
who in that year ravaged Rouen, and was not recovered until 
1838. On the opposite side of the choir is the tomb of Henry 
Plantagenet, son of Henry II., and behind the altar is the 
tomb of John, Duke of Bedford. 

The twenty-five chapels that line the aisles of the cathedral 
contain a number of most interesting monuments, too numer- 
ous, however, to mention in detail. But there is one we would 
fain pause before, that of the great Duke Rollo, situated in 
the chapel of St. Remain. The inscription on the marble tab- 
let tells us that he was the first duke, founder and father of 
Normandy, " of which he was at first the terror and scourge, 
but afterwards the restorer." He was baptized in 912 by Fran- 
con, Archbishop of Rouen, and died in 917. Of his beauty of 
person, nobility of mind, and greatness of character, and of the 
inestimable benefit of his life to the cause of civilization, noth- 
ing is said ; but happily we have history. In the chapel of 
St. Ann, on the opposite side of the nave, is the tomb of his 
son, William Longsword, who was assassinated by Arnulf, 
Count of Flanders. 

But the finest monuments are in the beautiful Lady Chapel. 
Most interesting and at the same time most splendid among 
them is the tomb of Cardinal Georges d'Amboise, Archbishop of 
Rouen, and his brother. It is constructed of black and white 
marble in the Renaissance style, and dates from 1525. The 



: 



1 899.] 



THE OLD CHURCHES OF 1 ROUEN. 




" THE STATELY CHURCH OF ST. OUEN is ROUEN'S CHIEF ARCHITECTURAL 
GLORY " (WEST FRONT). 

high base is adorned with exquisitely carved pilasters and six 
statues representing the virtues Faith, Charity, Justice, Pru- 
dence, Fortitude, and Temperance. The two cardinals are kneel- 
ing beneath a richly ornamented canopy, their hands joined 
and their faces expressive of a lofty benignity. Statues of 
saints surround them on either side, and as a background there 
is a bas-relief of St. George and the Dragon. In pinnacled 
niches above are statues of the twelve apostles arranged two 
by two. The designer of this marvellous work of art was 



634 THE OLD CHURCHES OF ROUEN. [Feb., 

Roullant Leraux, who also planned the western fagade of the 
cathedral. During the Revolution of 1793 the bodies of the 
Cardinals d'Amboise were exhumed from their grave and, after 
being submitted to every indignity, were thrown into the com- 
mon trench, the lead of the coffins being melted down to make 
bullets. 

Scarcely less imposing in appearance is the elaborately 
decorated monument of Louis de Breze, grand seneschal of 
Normandy, and celebrated in history as the husband of Diana 
of Poitiers. Four black marble Corinthian columns, with capi- 
tals of white alabaster, support a highly ornamented entablature 
bearing in a recessed arch an equestrian statue of the duke in 
full armor. 

However reluctant, we must leave the grand old cathedral, 
for there are other sacred buildings equally as important that 
demand a share of our space. The stately church of St. Ouen, 
although not as historically interesting as the cathedral, is 
Rouen's chief architectural glory. Not only larger than its 
famed rival, it also excels in purity of style and beauty of pro- 
portion ; for although the work of no one century, it follows 
the original design throughout. It richly deserves its distinc- 
tion of being " one of the noblest and most perfect Gothic 
edifices in the world." St. Ouen, whose name it now bears, 
was probably the greatest benefactor of the old church, then 
known as the Abbey of St. Peter. He gave up his patrimony 
to it, and as chancellor and minister of state to Dagobert he 
influenced its welfare in other ways. He was still y.oung when 
he renounced the world and took to preaching the gospel. 
Rouen selected him for its bishop in 646, succeeding St. Ro- 
main, and soon after he became archbishop. He died in 689 
and was interred in this church in accordance with his oft- ex- 
pressed wish. 

When the Normans invaded Rouen they almost entirely 
destroyed the abbey by fire, but the relics were carried off to 
a place of safety by the monks. When Rollo, who was now a 
Christian, became the sovereign duke he rebuilt the monastery 
and caused its relics to be restored, the new edifice being 
dedicated to St. Ouen. This in turn was demolished in 1046 
and a new structure completed on its site in 1126, Archbishop 
Geoffrey rededicating it on the i/th of October. Ten years 
later fire razed it to the ground. It was again rebuilt by the 
aid of Empress Matilda and Henry II., but in 1248 conflagra- 
tion once more destroyed it. Finally, on May 25, 1318, the 



1899-] THE OLD CHURCHES OF ROUEN. 635 

first stone of the existing edifice was laid by the famous Abb 
Jean Roussel. The main portion was built in twenty-one years, 
but the work of completion was carried on through six genera- 
tions, the English during their occupancy of the city continu- 
ing the construction. It was finished early in the sixteenth 
century, except the two west towers, which date from compara- 
tively recent times. 

As though the old church had not struggled through troubles 
and reverses enough, it must needs be the subject of a vicious 
assault by the Huguenots in 1562. They sadly devastated the 
interior, making bonfires of organ and stalls. And scarcely was 
this cruel damage repaired when down swept the revolutionists, 
turning its sacred precincts into a blacksmith's shop, the smoke 
of the forge rendering the beautiful windows black and opaque. 
But the grand old temple has lived through it all, has triumphed 
over every enemy, and is to-day lovely and chaste beyond what 
it ever was. What an object-lesson these ancient stones hold, 
if one chooses to pause and reflect ! 

The plan of the church takes the form of a Latin cross and 
from the centre rises a magnificent lantern tower, 285 feet 
high. Nothing more graceful can be conceived than this tower, 
which is the prominent feature of the exterior church. Massive 
and gigantic in its entirety, it is of the most delicate lightness 
in its elaborate details, being composed of open arches and thin 
screen-work, built square below, with richly carved pinnacles 
at the angles, and octagonal in the upper story, with delicate 
traceries and a crown of fleur-de-lis. Clustering about the roof 
of the lofty choir are the fairy-like pinnacles of the flying but- 
tresses, and nestling in between them are the numerous cone- 
shaped chapel roofs, looking like tents in a forest of spires. 
The lower walls are almost entirely taken up with huge orna- 
mental windows. The transepts are faced above the portals 
with exquisite rose windows and beautifully carved gables with 
statues, flanked by corner turrets. 

The western front is grand beyond description with its three 
great projecting portals deeply arched and its lofty gables of 
open traceries. Above the huge rose window is a beautiful ar- 
cade of slender columns containing statues, and above this again 
is the central gable. There are two flanking towers of marvel- 
lous beauty on either side of this west front, but time has 
not mellowed them into conformity with the general appear- 
ance of the church. The lower story pierced by the side 
portals is square, above this they are octagonal and finally 



636 



THE OLD CHURCHES OF ROUEN. 



[Feb., 




"AN OLD CHURCH, TIME-WORN AND GRAY" (ST. OUEN, SIDE VIEW). 

sharp, cross-surmounted steeples, girt with numerous open 
windows. 

Once within the ever-open doors, we are charmed by the 
bright, almost brilliant appearance of the spacious interior. 
There is a cheerful, inviting aspect about it that literally draws 
one inside. This effect is partly accounted for in the fact that 
there are 125 large, upright colored windows in the church, ex- 
clusive of the " roses," and that the clusters of slender columns 
stretch up uninterruptedly to the very roof a height of over 
one hundred feet. The few arches are light and airy, and it 
would be a difficult task to find a dark nook or sombre object 
in this radiant church. 

Near the entrance, on the right, is the large black marble 
bMtier, probably the most remarkable holy-water basin in 
the world. Looking upon its calm surface we see reflected a 
perfect image of the church in all its manifold parts and rich- 
ness of coloring. Not a detail or tint is lost ; and seen thus 
in miniature the gentle, almost ethereal loveliness of the place 
is so intensified as to become enthralling. The secret of this 
phenomenon, for such it may be called, has never been satis- 
factorily explained, nor has it ever been duplicated with the 
same perfect success. The angle in which the bc'nitier is situated 






1899-] THE OLD CHURCHES OF ROUEN. 637 

has, of course, something to do with it, but the cause more 
probably lies in the effect of conflicting lights and a con- 
sequent radiation peculiar only to these conditions. 

It is difficult to describe the interior of St. Ouen, for it is 
notably devoid of the usual embellishments of grand altars and 
famous monuments. In fact, its charm is in the absence of 
these*; in its chaste simplicity, its superb loftiness and light- 
ness, and in " the breathing music " of its unbroken harmony. 

The architect of this wonderful edifice, Alexandre Berneval, 
is interred in one of the eleven chapels of the church. Ac- 
cording to tradition, he killed his apprentice in a fit of envy. 
The youth executed the beautiful rose window in the north 
transept, and it so far surpassed the one constructed by his 
master in the south transept that the latter could not endure 
the humiliation. He suffered for his crime, and out of grati- 
tude for his many noble works the monks buried him in con- 
secrated ground. Master and pupil lie side by side. Over 
Berneval's tomb is written : 

" Here lies Master Alexandre Berneval, master of the mason 
works of the king our lord, of the bailliage of Rouen and of 
this church, who died in the year of grace 1440, the 5th day 
of January. Pray God for his soul." 

An unequalled view of Rouen, with its picturesque old 
houses, quaint, narrow streets and background of green hills, is 
had from the roof, and it is from this vantage-point only that 
the wondrous central tower and the higher adornments of the 
exterior are seen in all their beauty of detail. 

St. Ouen stands partly in a public garden, which was origin- 
ally the ground of the monastery. Seemingly attached to the east 
side of the north transept is a round, two-storied tower in the 
Norman style, said to date from the eleventh century. It is 
called the " Chambre aux Clercs," and is an interesting relic of 
one of the earlier edifices. A statue of the great Duke Rollo 
also adorns this garden. 

Third in interest and celebrity among the old churches of 
Rouen is St. Maclou, which used to be called the eldest daugh- 
ter of Monseigneur 1'Archeveque. This lovely little jewel of a 
church was built in the fifteenth century and is famous for its 
curious triple porch, for its elaborate and exquisite sculpture 
and its ancient stained glass. Pierre Robin, its architect, 
lavished upon it such a wealth of skilled chiselling that to 
this day it is an unparalleled wonder. Even the wooden doors 
are beautifully carved with bas-reliefs of biblical subjects. 



638 THE OLD CHURCHES OF ROUEN. [Feb., 

The execution of the " Last Judgment " on the tympanum 
caused so great a critic as Ruskin to write : " And the sculpture 
of the Inferno is carried out with a degree of power whose 
fearful grotesqueness I can only describe as a mingling of 
the minds of Orcagna and Hogarth." 

Another church deeply interesting by reason of its antiquity 
and historic associations is that of St. Gervais. The* main 
edifice is mostly modern, but it reposes on a crypt dating back 
to the Gallo-Roman period. Reliable authorities maintain it 
was constructed in the fourth century, and some go so far as 
to give it the distinction of being the oldest Christian church 
in France. Certainly it is one of the oldest structures in Rouen. 
The accepted history is that it was built by St. Victrix, Arch- 
bishop of Rouen in the fourth century, who, having received a 
number of relics of St. Gervais from St. Ambrose of Milan, 
set to work to build a church to contain the treasures, himself 
engaging in the labor, even carrying stones on his shoulder. 
The crypt is weirdly dark and is reached by a flight of steps 
connected with the upper church by a trap-door. By the dim 
candle-light we make out a plain, unadorned chamber of 
rough stone and Roman tiles, with an apse and a rude altar 
marked with crosses. In arched recesses on either side are the 
tombs of St. Mellon and St. Avitien, the two first Archbishops 
of Rouen. 

St. Gervais calls to mind the melancholy end of William the 
Conqueror, and incidentally conveys a powerful sermon on the 
vanity of worldly glory. Wounded by a fall from his horse at 
the sacking of Nantes, he repaired to the priory of this church 
in his distress. Deserted by his own sons, who rushed away 
in haste to seize on his domains, and plundered of his belongings 
by his servants, the great warrior who had conquered England 
lay utterly alone and forsaken in his dying moments, and with- 
out so much as a single friend to offer him decent burial. Wil- 
liam's last address to his sons is worth repeating : 

" By the aid of God, through my ancestors and myself, 
Normandy is filled with spiritual fortresses, in which mortals 
learn to combat the demons and the lusts of the flesh. By 
the inspiration of God, I have been the founder of these fort- 
resses their protector and their friend. Such have been my 
cares from my youth upwards. Such the obligations I impose 
on my successors. Do you, my sons, imitate me in this point, 
that you may be honored before God and man." 

Early on the morning of the 9th of September, 1087, the 



1 8 9 9-] 



THE OLD CHURCHES OF ROUEN. 



639 



old king heard the 
cathedral bells, 
and the voices of 
the monks sing- 
ing the hymn of 
Prime in the outer 
cloisters. He ask- 
ed what it meant, 
and on being told 
it was the hour 
of Matins at St. 
Mary's, he lifted 
his hands to 
heaven and ex- 
claimed : " I com- 
mend myself to 
the Holy Mary, 
Mother of God, 
my sovereign, that 
by her prayers I 
may be reconciled 
with her dearly 
loved Son, our 
Saviour Jesus 
Christ " ; and his 
soul fled to judg- 
ment. Truly a 
fitting end to so 
great a man, what- 
ever may be said 
of his life. 

Rouen has 
numerous other 
grand old church- 
es, which al- 
though partially 
restored and 
somewhat mod- 
ernized, still re- 
tain sufficient of 
their original 
features to make 
them objects of 




ST. MACLOU is FAMOUS FOR ITS TRIPLE PORCH. 



640 THE OLD CHURCHES OF ROUEN. [Feb., 

profound interest. Space will not permit of more than a brief 
mention of them. The Church of St. Vincent still shows a mag- 
nificent Gothic porch, exquisitely sculptured. The remains of 
a bas-relief after Michael Angelo is to be seen above the main 
door and the interior contains some fine specimens of painted 
glass. St. Godard is of interest in that its ancient crypt, now 
destroyed, originally held the remains of St. Godard and St. 
Romain. It also held the finest stained glass window in France 
prior to the Revolution. St. Patrice's has some beautiful six- 
teenth century windows, several of them being of wide renown. 
The church of St. Romain was an ancient chapel of the bare- 
footed friars; most of the present edifice, however, dates from 
the seventeenth century. The ashes of the saint to whom it 
is dedicated repose under the high altar, and the dome is fres- 
coed with scenes from his life. St. Romain was Archbishop 
of Rouen early in the seventeenth century, and in many ways 
was one of the most remarkable men of his age, withal a zeal- 
ous champion of the faith. The Church of St. Vivien still 
shows some traces of the original twelfth century edifice, and 
St. Nicaise is of interest in that it stands on the site of a 
chapel similarly dedicated, founded by St. Ouen in the seventh 
century. 

Many of the old churches suppressed at the Revolution are 
now devastated and in ruins, while not a few have been per- 
verted to secular use. Scattered about the city one may see 
beautifully chiselled walls now serving to enclose some manu- 
facturing plant, and solitary towers looming up grand and 
alone in the open spaces or wedged in between the modern 
buildings. Too formidable for the ruthless hands of the fren- 
zied mob or perhaps spared as treasures of beauty they stand 
as mournful monuments to a popular spirit of sacrilege. The 
tower of St. Laurent mingles proudly in the sky with the fairest 
of the city's spires, but its church is now used as a warehouse. 
Another beautiful tower is that of St. Andre, standing quite 
alone in a railed enclosure. The fifteenth century tower of 
the demolished church of St. Pierre-du-Chatel is also in this 
vicinity. * 

The suppressed convent of St. Marie now serves as a 
Museum of Antiquities, and is of profound interest in that it 
contains numerous relics of the ancient churches bas-reliefs, 
statues, mosaics, and monuments. The fifteen windows are 
filled with the finest of painted glass from the old convents 
and churches that came under the ban of the Revolution, 



1 899.] 



THE OLD CHURCHES OF ROUEN. 



641 



and comprise a unique 
and superb collection. 
Here also is the splen- 
did shrine of St. Sever, 
in the shape of a 
Gothic chapel, done in 
oak and gilded, and con- 
taining silver statues of 
saints. It dates from 
the twelfth century and 
was brought hither from 
its former place in the 
cathedral. 

Among Rouen's ec- 
clesiastical objects of -in- 
terest the monument of 
St. Remain deserves a 
place. It was built in 
1562, and although un- 
interesting in itself, 
commemorates the spot 
where a condemned 
criminal was released 
every year on Ascension 
Day. The custom, call- 
ed the " Leve"e de la 
Fierte de St. Romain," 
originated under King 
Dagobert, and was con- 
tinued, with some modi- 
fications, down to the 
time of the Revolution. 
It was intended to com- 
memorate the fact that 
the only person who 
volunteered to aid St. 
Romain in his perilous 
task of ridding the 
neighborhood of Rouen 
of the menacing presence 
of a wild beast was a 
malefactor under sen- 
tence of death. 




THE TOWER OF ST. ANDREW STANDS WITHIN 

A RAILED ENCLOSURE." 




642 JOHN MITCHEL' s DAUGHTER. [Feb., 

JOHN MITCHEL'S DAUGHTER. 

BY MARY JOSEPHINE ONAHAN. 

|OHN MITCH EL, patriot, scholar, exile, and above 
all rebel, is one of tl\e gallant figures of modern 
times. Like a number of others who heroically 
fought in that losing cause of Ireland's freedom, 
he was not of the faith that St. Patrick planted, 
and that in its ardor and its enthusiasm has merited for this 
wee island babe of the salt sea brine the title " Isle of Saints." 

But when Irish blood is in the veins the ardent Irish faith 
is liable at any moment to spring forth like seed of the sham- 
rock wafted to alien shore and peeping forth timidly but daunt- 
lessly amidst strange vegetation. 

Therefore, in spite of the protest of a few North of Ireland 
friends, it could have been matter of little astonishment to any 
one when, in the winter of 1860, the eldest daughter of John 
Mitchel, Henrietta, announced her intention of becoming a 
Catholic. The Mitchel family were then living in Paris, although 
in a loneliness which practically amounted to isolation and was 
both galling and depressing to Mitchel's energetic soul. 

Literal solitary confinement had been borne, but to live in 
that seething French capital, in a house half of whose inmates 
were aged women, reminding one of the morgue and the ceme- 
teries ; to receive in four months but a single invitation, and 
that to attend a funeral this was, as Mitchel himself said, 
" ghastly." No wonder his wife and daughters found the 
convent of the Sacre" Cceur a delightful refreshment in their 
loneliness. 

Henrietta, the eldest girl, had when in Washington become 
intimate with two young ladies of about her own age who 
were devout Catholics. She seems even then to have expressed 
some desire to become of their faith, but her father thought 
she was too young for her judgment to be trusted in so im- 
portant a matter. He told her that if, after a few years, she 
still desired to become a Catholic he would offer no opposition. 

The matter therefore was still in abeyance when, in the 
fall of 1860, Henrietta presented her letters of introduction to 
the ladies of the Sacred Heart in Paris. She was received with 



l8 99-] JOHN MITCHELLS DAUGHTER. 643 

that charm and courtesy for which the Sacred Heart Order 
all over the world is famous, and received frequent instructions 
at the convent in Catholic doctrine. 

The family had other Catholic friends too, whose zealous 
efforts to bring back these sheep not of the fold were expend- 
ed not only on the younger but reached out also to the older 
members of the household, to Mitchel's sister even, as he 
shrewdly but laughingly suspected, to himself. 

*' Ah, lady ! " he writes to Mrs. John Dillon in acknowledg- 
ment of a Catholic book which she had sent to his sister Mary 
with the request that he first look into it himself to judge of its 
fitness for his sister's reading, " I know the wickedness of your 
thoughts. You wish to save Mary's soul and have no objec- 
tion to give chemin Jaisant a lift to mine also. You want to 
undermine our great right of private stupor through the seduc- 
tive philosophy of this Catholic author. The truth is, that there 
is a kind of hankering in all our family after the 'errors of 
Romanism.' Well, perhaps I may read the book and mark the 
objectionable passages for Mary's avoidance." 

But the " right of private stupor " was one which he still clung 
to, not so much because he prized it the verbiage forbids that 
but because he could not bring himself to believe in any- 
thing else. 

When it became generally known that Mitchel's daughter 
was contemplating becoming a Catholic, certain friends and 
relatives began to remonstrate against the proceeding, asking 
the father to assert his parental authority in order to prevent 
so obnoxious a step. And, as if the entreaties of the living 
might not be of sufficient weight, the influence of the dead 
was also brought to bear upon him to move him to coerce his 
daughter into obedience. For a young girl to publicly re- 
nounce the religion of her forefathers it was preposterous, 
they said. But coercion was not a popular word with John 
Mitchel. It was not a wise argument to use with one before 
whose eyes ever shone the glorious mirage of freedom. Mit- 
chel did not find it preposterous, and in writing to his mother, 
probably in answer to some remonstrance of hers, protested 
warmly against these unfair arguments, which sought to ham- 
per the liberty of conscience of any individual, and especially 
of his own daughter. 

"As to Henrietta's religious proceedings, you are aware 
that it is no new thing. The matter is put off for the present ; 
but if hereafter she should be bent upon it, I don't know 
VOL. LXVIII. 41 



644 JOHN MITCHELLS DAUGHTER. [Feb., 

with what conscience I can interpose parental authority to 
prevent it. I have never taught my children any religion, nor 
even spoken to them on the subject. If I had any system of 
my own to inculcate, I might endeavor to hold them to it \ 
but would really feel that I could not be justified in merely 
prohibiting their profession of any particular faith which they 
may be inclined to, without directing them to any better or 
any other. As to my own position, on that matter you need 
have no apprehension. There is not the least chance of my 
being a Catholic, and so much the worse. But it is not very 
kind of you to intimate that respect for my father's memory is 
in any way concerned in the matter. He vindicated the right of 
private judgment above all things. If one's private judgment 
leads him into the Catholic Church, it is private judgment 
still." 

This is just the sort of manly tone one would expect from 
the patriot and exile. There is not merely the upholding of 
the rights of others, vindication of freedom of conscience, but 
there is also that undertone of sadness, of regret, that his own 
life was still unillumined by a settled religious faith. This 
same regret is visible in his Jail Journal, in those six reasons 
for not committing suicide, especially in that pathetic sixth, 
where there is more than regret the glimmering of wistful 
hope. For Mitchel was too much of a Celt not to have Faith 
sometimes struggle forth from the ashes of scepticism and doubt. 

There is no record, however, that his interest in the Catho- 
lic Church was ever of any but the haziest and most general 
kind. His daughter was baptized in the chapel of the Sacred 
Heart Convent of Paris on December 31, 1861, and the same 
day made her First Communion ; but in the meagre account 
given by a French abbe" and in the numerous lives of John 
Mitchel, notably that able and delightful one by Mr. William 
Dillon, there is not the slightest hint that the father was even 
present at the ceremony. 

Writing about this time to his sister Matilda, he says : 
" Henrietta has been for two years a devout Catholic. She has 
become extremely intimate with the ladies of the Sacre Cceur 
a splendid convent here and I believe she is to make ab- 
juration of something one of these days, with the accompani- 
ment of a religious service, to all which I offer not the least 
opposition." 

As this letter was dated December 28 and Henrietta was 
only baptized on the 3ist of the same month, Mr. Mitchel prob- 



1899-] JOHN MITCHELLS DAUGHTER. 645 

ably meant that she had been a Catholic in belief for two 
years. Or else sad hypothesis ! he did not know that baptism 
was absolutely necessary before one could claim explicit mem- 
bership in the Church of Christ. 

The " abjuration of something " possibly refers to her 
baptism. 

A pity indeed that religion should have become to that 
splendid soul a mere bundle of meaningless forms and cere- 
monies ! 

The after-history of Henrietta Mitchel presents few points 
even for a cherry-stone biography. Her life had been varied as 
to clime and country. She had as a child made the .journey, 
with four other children and her mother, from Ireland to Van 
Diemen's Land. Her girlhood had passed from Washington and 
other American cities to the capital of the French Republic, and 
maturity she was not long to enjoy. 

When on the outbreak of the American Civil War the family 
returned to America, where two sons were already enrolled 
under the Southern flag, Henrietta asked permission to remain 
at the Sacre" Cceur and to keep her younger sister with her. 
She had already been pursuing her studies there for some time, 
although beyond the usual age of the pensionnat. 

Mitchel consented to her request. There seems to have 
been even a flickering notion in her mind of entering the order, 
but, being advised that she had no vocation, she contented 
herself with calling the convent her home and living under its 
roof. From the time of her conversion she was noted for her 
extreme piety and was much beloved by all the religious in the 
community. She died in the early spring of 1863, April 18, 
regarded by many as a saint, so great had been her virtues and 
holiness. 

Mitchel was then in the very vortex of the struggle in 
America, but while the father fought with tongue and pen, 
the soul of the daughter had taken flight to that other world 
of whose existence and whose justice he always strove, at least, 
to be so indomitably sure. There at last may be answered that 
pathetic " Because " of the Jail Journal ; there the Lord who 
welcomes the eleventh hour vine-dressers as the first may wel- 
come that dauntless patriot too. For nearly the whole Celtic 
galaxy would be unhappy, there would be sedition in heaven 
itself, if the daughter did not win a place for the father, and 
John Mitchel did not find freedom at last in that other world 
who fought for it so gallantly in this. 




646 INEXCUSABLE MISTAKES OF A NOVELIST. [Feb., 



INEXCUSABLE MISTAKES OF A NOVELIST. 

BY REV. GEORGE M. SEARLE, C.S.P. 

[OME time ago we had occasion to notice one or 
two of the egregious blunders of Mr. Marion 
Crawford in his otherwise fine novel, Corleone. 
At that time we had not read a story of his 
called Taquisara ; also a good story, though hard- 
ly equal to the one just named. But the blundering in it is 
so enormous and monumental ; the author wallows and tangles 
himself up in such a mass of ridiculous and preposterous mis- 
takes as to the law of the Church, that in this respect it is 
probably unsurpassed by anything hitherto written by Mr. 
Crawford or any one else, and it is not likely that, even in his 
happiest vein, he himself can ever excel it. As a curiosity of 
literature, therefore, it seems worthy of a somewhat detailed 
description in this respect. 

The principal interest of the story is supposed to attach to 
the Princess Veronica Serra and her love affairs, if we may 
call them so, though there seems to be no real love on her 
part except one rapidly developing toward the end of the book 
for the hero, Taquisara, a most magnificent and magnani- 
mous fellow, by the way, for whom any one, man or woman, 
might well feel a most enthusiastic admiration and affection. 
But, as far as the lady is concerned, he keeps very much 
in the background, being principally occupied in urging the 
claims of his friend, Gianluca della Spina, to Veronica's hand. 
Gianluca himself is, all through the story, desperately smitten 
with her; but though a very nice, lovely, and interesting crea- 
ture, he is weak in character and will, and still more so in 
body, being a confirmed and seemingly hopeless invalid with a 
spinal trouble, which gets constantly worse and worse. Veroni- 
ca is not at all in love with him ; but she has a woman's pity 
for his infirmities and sufferings, and moreover an appreciation 
of his mental qualities, particularly as they are displayed in a 
sort of platonic correspondence which becomes established 
between the two. Taquisara is indignant with her for thus 
encouraging the poor fellow, if she does not mean to accept 
his suit ; and he really wants her to accept him, as he himself is 
not, till toward the end, in love with her. 

Gianluca, under the joint influence of his illness and his 



1899-] INEXCUSABLE MISTAKES OF A NOVELIST. 647 

unrequited affection, gets, as we have said, constantly worse 
and worse, and finally Veronica invites him, with his father and 
mother, to stay with her at her castle of Muro, to which a 
village is attached, in the hope that the mountain air may help 
him. But though he improves somewhat, it becomes plain that 
nothing will much prolong his life unless she returns his love, 
or pretends to do so. She, being candid and truthful, and also 
naturally not wanting to be tied for life to a cripple, does not 
feel like doing the latter, and cannot do the former ; at the 
same time she feels herself to blame for encouraging him, and 
finally screws up courage to tell him that she cannot precisely 
return his love. This, as may be expected, nearly kills him, 
though he does not blame her ; and fearing his immediate 
death, she feels as if she would be guilty of it, and in a fit of 
remorse does pretend love, and consents to the marriage. The 
priest of the village, Don Teodoro, is then hurriedly called in, 
and the fun from a professional point of view begins. 

In the first place, there are present, for the contemplated 
ceremony, only the priest, the two parties, Gianluca and Veron- 
ica, and their mutual friend Taquisara, who went for the priest 
and brought him in. Now, it happens that according to the 
decree of the Council of Trent, which of course is understood 
to have been applied to the place in question, two witnesses, 
besides the parish priest, are necessary for the validity of a mar- 
riage. So from the very start, of course, there is no Catholic 
marriage at all in the case. Here is the first blunder ; we can- 
not number them all, for there are too many. 

This is perhaps a somewhat fine point for the ordinary 
novelist; but Mr. Crawford is a Catholic, and undoubtedly has 
some priests among his acquaintance ; and any one of them 
could have posted him on this as well as on the other matters 
which are to follow. Let us proceed to them. 

Neither the decree of the Council of Trent nor any other law 
of the church requires a ceremony of any kind to be performed 
by the priest, that a marriage may be valid. Of course there 
should be such a ceremony ; it would be a sin not to have it ; 
but it is not needed for validity, which is all the point here. 
The presence of the priest and of the witnesses in such a way 
as to know what is going on is all that the council requires 
for this. Now, Mr. Crawford may not be to blame for not 
reading up the law of the church, and perhaps not for neglect- 
ing to consult his clerical friends on the point ; but as a novel- 
ist, he certainly is to blame if he has not read Manzoni's / 
Promessi Sposi, in which the action turns just on this point. 



648 INEXCUSABLE MISTAKES OF A NOVELIST. [Feb., 

In that classical work, the two parties rush in, with their 
witnesses, on the parish priest unexpectedly, and make him 
aware of the contract of marriage which they enter on at the 
moment. They resort to this expedient because he does not 
want them to get married, and cannot be induced willingly to 
assist. They know their business, you see. 

But of course Mr. Crawford, who does not, represents 
Veronica as frantically begging for the priest to do his part, 
before Gianluca, who has been just able to say, " I will," 
breathes his last. Of course, if she had thought he was going 
to die any way, she would have let things remain as they 
were ; but she still hopes, it would seem, that the priest's 
blessing may snatch him from the jaws of death. But he does 
die, apparently, before the somewhat bewildered priest can 
pronounce the Ego conjungo vos. 

And now Mr. Crawford gets a new horror. For Taquisara, 
it seems, in sympathy, and also in no small distress on his own 
account, since he now loves Veronica, has taken her hand so 
that the priest seems to be marrying them. Of course Taquis- 
ara never expressed anything which could be supposed to mean 
marriage with anybody ; and when Veronica said her words, she 
held Gianluca's hand, not Taquisara's ; and to make the matter 
still worse, there is not even one witness now, for Gianluca is 
in a dead faint. So there is no case at all for the marriage 
with either one or the other. 

However, Mr. Crawford thinks there is, and does not know 
what in the world his people are going to do ; for Gianluca 
comes to life, and there is Veronica, half married to both of 
the gentlemen. Taquisara, with great generosity, thinks of 
going to the war in Abyssinia, and getting killed. 

But now come more absurdities. Mr. Crawford finds his 
way out of his supposed scrape by the discovery that Don 
Teodoro is not a priest at all, but only a deacon. He was on 
a mission, it seems, in Africa, and the priests there all died ; 
and he thought the people would lose the faith unless he said 
Mass for them ; so he made up his mind to do that. One can 
conceive of such a sacrilege, great as it was, being committed 
for charitable motives ; but when other priests came to the 
mission, he went on with it, and even when he got back to 
Europe he still continued. He said Mass, assisted the dying, 
etc., and of course married lots of people. 

And note here, by the way, that this last he might have had 
a right to do validly, even though not a priest. For to be a 
11 parochus," that is, to have ecclesiastical or canonical charge of 



1 899.] INEXCUSABLE MISTAKES OF A NOVELIST. 649 

a parish, it is not necessary to be a priest ; a deacon, as Don 
Teodoro was, can be placed in such an office ; and can validly 
assist at its marriages, according to the law of the Council of 
Trent. It is true that Don Teodoro, by his false pretence of 
being a priest, hardly obtained his parish legitimately ; but still, 
he had what is called a titulus coloratus (that is, an apparently 
good title or right), to his charge ; and when this is the case, 
and there is also an error communis (or common though mis- 
taken belief that all is right), the principle of the church is to 
supply the jurisdiction needed. And even if this were not 
admitted, the defect in the validity of the marriages he had 
performed could have been removed by a dispensation in radice, 
as it is called. 

Of course this is really a fine point, which could hardly be 
expected to occur to the non-professional ; but still it shows 
the fatality likely to attend a man who in professional matters 
neglects professional advice. 

As to hearing confessions and attending the dying, the 
faculties for which functions cannot be given by the church to 
deacons, inasmuch as the Divine law restricts them to the 
priestly order, this was a much more serious matter; but it 
does not seem to have worried the good Don Teodoro very 
much, though it directly and most seriously endangered the 
salvation of his parishioners ; nor did the marriages, till it came 
to the case of his distinguished friends, now concerned. 

But now he was driven to desperation. So he makes up 
his mind that he must now go to confession, and let his real 
want of the sacerdotal order be made known to some one who 
can pronounce authoritatively that the marriage of Veronica is 
invalid. So he goes to a friend, Don Matteo, who is a priest, 
and tells him that he has a reserved case to confess, and wants 
him to see the archbishop about it. And he tells him his sad story. 

Don Matteo goes to the archbishop, as Teodoro had re- 
quested, and without mentioning names explains the case to 
him. This is all right, of course ; about the only thing that is, 
in this dreadful jumble. And he tells him what a good and 
worthy priest Teodoro would have been, if he had only been a 
priest at all. That was a big "if," of course; still the cardinal 
archbishop thinks that Teodoro ought to be a priest, as he is 
so eminently fit for the office, and has such a true vocation. 
So he says that they must make him a priest as soon as possible. 

Now, of course there was no difficulty about this, except 
that arising from Mr. Crawford's absurd ideas about confession. 
He seems to think that not even the penitent himself can 



650 INEXCUSABLE MISTAKES OF A NOVELIST. [Feb., 

divulge anything he has said in confession, or let his identity 
be known to any one but his confessor. " I would ordain him," 
says the Cardinal, "if he came to me." "But then," says Mat- 
teo, "your Eminence would know him, and the secret of con- 
fession would have been betrayed." " That is true," replies the 
Cardinal. " Let him go to another bishop and tell his story." 
He could not tell it, forsooth, out of confession, to the cardinal 
himself, because the cardinal has heard it in the way described. 
Of course Teodoro could, if he pleased, have allowed or could 
now allow Matteo to mention his name, which would save time 
and be the simplest way. 

The plan of going to another bishop is dismissed, for fear 
the other bishop might not see things in the proper light. 
And now the terrible puzzle comes what to do, which is solved, 
in a singularly ingenious way, by his eminence. He tells Mat- 
teo that he will consecrate him a bishop, without bulls from 
Rome, or even the observance of the form prescribed in the 
Pontifical. These, of course, are quite trifling matters. Matteo 
has to say the " Confiteor " ; such is the cardinal's only rubric. 
" Kneel down," he says ; " I take this upon myself." 

And why in the world does he make Matteo a bishop? 
Why, in order that Mr. Crawford's idea of the seal of confes- 
sion may be maintained. Matteo, you see, is to ordain his 
friend Teodoro. 

But how about the reserved case ? Obviously there was 
nothing to prevent the cardinal from giving the faculties to Mat- 
teo to absolve it, or at any rate obtaining them for him if the 
case was supposed to be a Papal one. But such is not Mr. 
Crawford's idea. He thinks that the faculty to absolve reserved 
cases is part of the episcopal order ; that what is meant by a 
reserved case is a case of an unusual degree of guilt, only to 
be absolved by an absolving power of a specially high grade, 
which is not given to the mere priest at his ordination. 

Poor Matteo, as may be supposed, is not allowed to disport 
himself as a bishop. For his consolation, however, he wears a 
pectoral cross under his cassock, hiding it, it is to be presumed, 
when he goes to bed. Teodoro, of course, is now all right; 
only he does not seem to bother much about the matters of 
his past spiritual administration which need to be rectified. He 
settles the special case by telling the parties that the authority 
has decided that there has been no marriage at all (as he could 
have told them before, if Mr. Crawford had known his business), 
only that Gianluca being supposed to be Veronica's husband, 
he must really be made so by a solemn ceremony of some 



1 899-] INEXCUSABLE MISTAKES OF A NOVELIST. 651 

kind ; and as Gianluca is still very ill, this ceremony is apparently 
deferred till he can get about. In fact, of course, it is just the 
case in which a revalidation of marriage would be done quietly ; 
let them bring in the two witnesses and do the thing right this 
time, as they did it wrong before. But there must needs be a 
blunder here as everywhere else. 

Gianluca, as in duty bound, soon dies, and thus ceases to 
interfere with the real love affair, which an accident reveals to 
him. So Taquisara and Veronica are married, we may suppose 
soon after, and thus everything is satisfactorily arranged. 

Now, all the farrago of absurdities which we have incom- 
pletely, but perhaps sufficiently, described is confined to the 
conclusion, not more than about the eighth part of the book. 
What a pity that a story otherwise so well worked up, par- 
ticularly in the first part, which we have had no occasion to men- 
tion, should be spoiled by such insufferable nonsense ; and that 
the author of such a splendid work as Ave Roma Immortalis 
and of so many brilliant and powerful works of fiction, show- 
ing so much knowledge on other points, should, without the 
least necessity, disgrace himself by a display of such fatu- 
ous ignorance on matters which one hour's reference of his 
manuscript to any priest could have cleared up for him fully ! 

The whole business, as it stands, is simply inexcusable. 
There is absolutely no excuse for any one, even had he not 
the easy access to reliable sources of information that Mr. 
Crawford necessarily has, when he attempts to write about pro- 
fessional matters without professional information. His conduct 
is exactly the same in the case as if he should undertake to 
write a novel involving nice points of state law without taking 
the least trouble to consult a lawyer as to what the law of the 
state concerned actually might be, or a sea-story without ask- 
ing or in any way finding out the name of a single stick or 
rope on the vessels he had to describe, or the evolutions of 
which these vessels were capable. Every Catholic, to say the 
least, ought to know that the legislation of the church, espe- 
cially on the subject of marriage, is full of intricacies and accu- 
rate distinctions, which cannot be understood in all their details 
without long and painstaking study, such as lawyers and physi- 
cians give to their respective professions ; and if, as may well 
be presumed, he has not time or taste for such study, he ought 
to present his case, whether it be one of fact or fiction, to 
some one who is by such study qualified to know what he is 
talking about. 



652 THE PROBLEM OF PERSONALITY. [Feb., 



THE PROBLEM OF PERSONALITY. 

BY WILLIAM SETON, LL.D. 

"La vie normale compte des actes intelligents qui ne proviennent point d'un moi nou - 
veau, mais d'une subconscience du moi normal. Et ces actes sont nombreux, peut-etre les 
plus nombreux " * (Abbl C. Pz'af, " La Personne Humatne" p. 126). 

" The subconscious self must not be conceived as any distinct being; it is rather a dif- 
fused consciousness of any strength of intensity with a content rich and varied. The sub- 
conscious ... is impersonal. Occasionally, however, it reaches the plane of self-con- 
sciousness, but then soon subsides again into its former impersonal obscurity " (Dr. Boris 
ts, " Psychology of Suggestion," p. 282). 




'MONG the questions which to day are being forced 
to the front is that of human personality. Un- 
til recently this question was studied only by 
metaphysical methods. But since the hypnotic 
state, through the labors of the late Dr. Charcot, 
has been recognized by science, the study of personality may 
be said to have turned over a new leaf. There are psycholo- 
gists of repute who would have us believe that the traditional 
view of the unity and identity of the Ego must be given up ; 
they would have us believe that there are two distinct selves, 
a waking and a subwaking, two streams of consciousness with- 
in each human being ; while differing widely with this school 
is the Abb C. Piat, professor at the Institut Catholique, Paris, 
whose recent work, La Personne Humaine, deserves to be 
widely read. On page 74 of this work the abbe quotes the 
case of a young woman healthy and well instructed who sud- 
denly fell into a deep sleep. On awaking she had forgotten 
all she had known. Her memory had retained neither words 
nor things. It was necessary to teach her everything de novo 
to read, write, count. Objects were to her as if seen for the 
first time. But she made rapid progress. After the lapse of 
several months she suddenly fell again into another deep sleep, 
and on awaking found herself what she had been before her 
first sleep. But she had no recollection of what had taken 
place in the interval. In a word, during the old state she 
knew nothing of the new state. This changing about from one 
state to another lasted more than four years. In her old state 

* Normal life embraces intelligent acts which do not proceed from a new Ego, but from a 
subconsciousness of the normal Ego. And these acts are numerous, perhaps the most numer 
ous. 



1899-] THE PROBLEM OF PERSONALITY. 653 

she writes a beautiful hand ; in her new state her handwriting 
is that of a beginner. Professor William James, in his Psy- 
chology, vol. i., p. 391, cites another interesting case of alternate 
Personality : " The Rev. Ansel Bourne, of Greene, R. I., was 
brought up to the trade of a carpenter. . . . He has been 
subject to headaches and temporary fits of depression of spirits 
during most of his life, and has had a few fits of unconscious- 
ness lasting an hour or less. . . . Otherwise his health is 
good. . . . On January 17, 1887, he drew 551 dollars from 
a bank in Providence with which to pay for a certain lot of 
land in Greene, paid certain bills, and got into the Pawtucket 
horse-car. This is the last incident he remembers. He did not 
return home that day, and nothing was heard of him for two 
months. He was published in the papers as missing, and foul 
play being suspected, the police sought in vain his whereabouts. 
On the morning of March 14, however, at Norristown, Pa., 
a man calling himself A. J. Brown, who had rented a small 
shop six weeks previously, stocked it with stationery, confec- 
tionery, fruit, and small articles, and carried on his quiet trade 
without seeming to any one unnatural or eccentric, woke up in 
a fright and called to the people of the house to tell him 
where he was. He said that his name was Ansel Bourne, that 
he was entirely ignorant of Norristown, that he knew nothing 
of shop-keeping, and that the last thing he remembered it 
seemed only yesterday was drawing the money from the bank 
in Providence. He would not believe that two months had 
elapsed. The people of the house thought him insane ; and so, 
at first, did Dr. Louis H. Read, whom they called in to see 
him. But on telegraphing to Providence, confirmatory mes- 
sages came, and presently his nephew, Mr. Andrew Harris, 
arrived upon the scene, made everything straight, and took him 
home. He was very weak, having lost apparently over twenty 
pounds of flesh. . . . The first two weeks of the period re- 
mained unaccounted for, as he had no memory, after he had 
once resumed his normal personality, of any part of the time, 
and no one who knew him seems to have seen him after he 
left home. The remarkable part of the change is, of course, 
the peculiar occupation which the so-called Brown indulged in. 
Mr. Bourne has never in his life had the slightest contact 
with trade. ' Brown ' was described by his neighbors as taci- 
turn, orderly in his habits, and in no way queer. . , . (He) 
cooked for himself in the back shop, where he also slept ; went 
regularly to church, and once at a prayer-meeting made what 



654 THE PROBLEM OF PERSONALITY. [Feb., 

was considered by the hearers a good address, in the course of 
which he related an incident which he had witnessed in his 
natural state of Bourne. This was all that was known of the 
case up to June, 1890, when I induced Mr. Bourne to submit 
to hypnotism, so as to see whether in the hypnotic trance his 
'Brown' memory would not come back. It did so with sur- 
prising readiness ; so much so indeed that it proved quite im- 
possible to make him whilst in hypnosis remember any of the 
facts of his normal life. He had heard of Ansel Bourne, but 
'didn't know as he had ever met the man.' . . . On the 
other hand, he told of his peregrinations during the lost fort- 
night, and gave all sorts of details about the Norristown epi- 
sode. The whole thing was prosaic enough ; and the Brown 
personality seems to be nothing but a rather shrunken, de- 
jected, and amnesic extract of Mr. Bourne himself. . . . 
His eyes are practically normal, and all his sensibilities save 
for tardier response about the same in hypnosis as in waking. 
I had hoped by suggestion, etc., to run the two personali- 
ties into one and to make the memories continuous, but no 
artifice would avail to accomplish this, and Mr. Bourne's skull 
to-day still covers two distinct personal selves. The case 
(whether it contain an epileptic element or not) should appar- 
ently be classed as one of spontaneous hypnotic trance per- 
sisting for two months. . . ." * In vol. i., pp. 393-399, of 
the same work, Professor James goes on to say: " Mediumistic 
possession in all its grades seems to form a perfectly natural 
special type of alternate personality, and the susceptibility to it 
in some form is by no means an uncommon gift in persons 
who have no other obvious nervous anomaly. The phenomena 
are very intricate, and are only just beginning to be studied 
in a proper scientific way. The lowest phase of mediumship is 
automatic writing. . . . Then comes writing unconsciously 
even whilst engaged in reading or talk." And while the dis- 
tinguished Harvard professor advances no theory of his own 
to explain what he terms perversions of personality, he would 
conceive the brain condition throughout these various changes 
of self to be capable of successively changing all its modes of 
action; "and abandoning the use for the time being of whole 
sets of well-organized association paths. In no other way can 
we explain the loss of memory in passing from one alternating 
condition to another. . . . Each of the selves is due to a 

*For an unusually interesting case of triple personality see Journal of the American 
Medical Association, January 7, 1899. 



1899-] THE PROBLEM OF PERSONALITY. 655 

system of cerebral paths acting by itself. . . . Some pecu- 
liarities in the lower automatic performances suggest that the 
systems thrown out of gear with each other are contained one 
in the right, the other in the left hemisphere." 

The existence of a secondary self a hidden will is thought 
by some psychologists to be revealed by the curious fact that 
if we put a pair of scissors into an hysterical subject's hand 
which is anaesthetic, viz., a hand deprived of all sensibility, while 
at the same we carefully blindfold the person or place a screen 
before his eyes, so that he cannot see what we are doing, the 
insensible hand will at once take hold of the scissors in the 
proper way as if to cut. And these psychologists maintain 
that the adaptive movements of the hand that has lost all feel- 
ing must obtain from the subwaking self a recognition of the 
scissors. Binet, \T\RevuePhilosophique, 1884, says: "We put a 
pen into the insensible hand " the person of course not seeing 
what is done u and make it write a word; left to itself, the 
hand preserves its attitude, and at the end of a short space of 
time repeats the word often five or ten times. Having arrived 
at this fact, we again seize the anaesthetic hand and cause it 
to write some well-known word for example, the patient's own 
name but in so doing we intentionally commit an error in 
spelling. In its turn the insensible hand repeats the word, but 
strange to say, betrays a momentary hesitation when it gets to 
the letter where the error in orthography was committed. If 
a superfluous letter happens to have been added, sometimes the 
hand will hesitatingly rewrite the name along with the supplemen- 
tary letter in question, and again finally entirely suppress it." 

It is in post-hypnotic suggestion * (and [no competent ob- 
server doubts the fact of post-hypnotic suggestion) that Pro- 
fessor James and others find good evidence of a split-off con- 
sciousness. If a person is told in the hypnotic trance to per- 
form a certain act at a certain time, the person, who has no 
recollection of the order after he awakens, will perform the act 
when the proper time comes. Here what is termed the upper 
consciousness which knows nothing of the command yields 
when the time arrives to an unaccountable impulse : a split-off, 
a buried consciousness would seem to rise to the surface, rule 
the primary self, and carry out the suggestion given during the 
hypnotic state. And Dr. Boris Sidis believes that in post- 
hypnotic suggestion we hold the key to impulsive insanity. 

* A post-hypnotic suggestion is a command given during hypnosis and carried out after 
waking from the trance. 



656 THE PROBLEM OF PERSONALITY. [Feb., 

In Psychology of Suggestion, p. 272, he says that he hypno- 
tized a certain gentleman, and when in a deep hypnosis and 
his secondary self was laid bare, he suggested that when 
he awoke and heard a knock he should drive his brother and 
another person away from a sofa on which they were seated 
and then place himself there. When Mr. A. F - awoke and 
heard the knock he flew to the sofa and pushed his brother and 
the friend to the opposite side of the room with a good deal 
of violence, after which he took possession of the sofa. And 
Dr. Boris Sidis adds: "As in the case of impulsive insanity, 
the suggested impulse set on suddenly and was enacted with a 
like emotional automatism." Here let us say that Moll in his 
well-known work on hypnotism, page 245, believes that the two 
consciousnesses are not completely separated, and that post- 
hypnotic suggestions are only seemingly forgotten between wak- 
ing and carrying them out. The post-hypnotic suggestion is 
retained by the secondary consciousness ; and he maintains 
that in planchette the intelligence which guides the pencil is 
the secondary self. It is possible that the singular phenome- 
non of post-hypnotic suggestion and the common use of the 
words primary consciousness and secondary consciousness, the 
waking self and the subwaking self, may lead some persons to 
believe that there are indeed two distinct, normal personalities 
in every human being. But this would be a mistake. 

Wundt, in Human and Animal Psychology, p. 331, tells us: 
" It is wholly unnecessary to assume the existence of a myste- 
rious mental double, the * other self ' or secondary personality, or 
to set up any of the fanciful hypotheses so plentiful in this field." 
And Binet, in an article entitled "The Mechanism of Thought" 
(Fortnightly Review, June, 1894), says: "We should not forget 
that the human being is a single unit by reason of his physi- 
cal constitution, and, despite the spectacle of disintegration pre- 
sented by mental phenomena in certain circumstances, there ex- 
ists a psychological unity in the individual." 

The truth is we are only beginning to scientifically study 
ourselves. Old-time psychologists albeit well versed in meta- 
physics made no serious attempt to analyze what man is. 
They did not know that what rises up to the height of con- 
sciousness is far from being all that is contained within the or- 
ganism. They did not know that there are higher and lower 
levels within the nervous system, and that there is scarcely a 
doubt that normal consciousness depends upon the integrity of 
action of the various neural pathways in the highest brain 



1899-] THE PROBLEM OF PERSONALITY. 657 

levels the cortical areas. But, thanks to experiments in the 
psychological laboratory in the past few years, we are able at 
last to throw a glimmering of light on the mysterious regions 
of the mind. 

Nobody would now deny that the organic elements of con- 
sciousness may be profoundly modified through pathological 
conditions ; a secondary self may seemingly be established with- 
in the normal self ; a parasitic personality, so to speak, may 
appear tg obtrude itself within the normal personality. But 
this is wholly a pathological condition ; and it is now believed 
that all mental diseases have their origin in a disaggregation of 
the elements which go to make up the physical basis of mind. 
Nor can we be too grateful to the students of the nervous sys- 
tem for having rescued the subject of mental disorders from 
the region of mystery and superstition, and for convincing the 
world that insane persons are neither demoniacs nor witches. 
We know that crime may be committed in the somnambulistic 
and epileptic state where the normal consciousness of the indi- 
vidual has been suspended, and it is asked whether strange, un- 
toward acts, attended by loss of memory, may not be per- 
formed under conditions other than epileptic. May not physio- 
logical and toxic conditions within the brain instability of the 
brain cells so characteristic of chronic alcoholic indulgence 
obscure the normal consciousness ? 

Not a few cases recorded in the medical journals would seem 
to answer this in the affirmative. As we have said, experiments 
in the psychological laboratory are beginning to throw a little 
light upon what mind is. The wide gap which was once 
thought to divide psychical activity from the chemical or physi- 
cal changes in the brain and nerves is not so wide as it used 
to be ; and hypnotism has been a guide-post in our psycho- 
physiological explorations. Already we are able to bring about 
artificially a splitting-off of the organic elements of conscious- 
ness. In the hypnotic trance what are known as the con- 
trolling, inhibitory centres may be disaggregated from the rest 
of the nervous system ; the controlling, waking consciousness 
becomes partially split off from the inferior reflex conscious- 
ness ; and it is now held by good authorities that at least 
half the secret of hypnotism lies in this dissociation of the 
controlling consciousness from the reflex organic consciousness. 
In a word, we bring about an abnormal condition of the 
brain through artificial methods; and Dr. Hack Tuke has de- 
scribed the hypnotic trance as an artificially induced madness. 



658 THE PROBLEM OF PERSONALITY. [Feb., 

May we not, then, reasonably hold that outside of hypno- 
tism a splitting-up of the physical elements of consciousness 
may occur as a result of some physiological disturbance in the 
higher levels of an unstable brain a brain rendered unstable 
through the poison of alcohol or drugs or through nervous 
shock? The degenerated brain elements form a pathological 
substratum whereby normal consciousness may be disaggre- 
gated ; for consciousness surely has a physiological basis in the 
central nervous system. Now, when this abnormal condition is 
brought about through disease the disease may be ancestral- 
unrestrained, reflex automatic activity may take the place of 
intelligent thought, and lo ! there may appear upon the scene 
what is termed the subwaking self. This subwaking self is 
devoid of common sense ; the normal judgment of the indivi- 
dual is wanting and he may be viewed as an automaton. He 
is now in a state characteristic of the hypnotic trance, and one 
morbid idea through uninhibited auto-suggestion may force itself 
irresistibly to the front, and the unfortunate person may wander 
away under another name and become a case of mysterious 
disappearance. And there are cases on record where the 
normal self has, after fading away, never returned ; the so- 
called secondary self has remained in control with not only a 
different name, but with a different character. 

We conclude by saying again, that what is known as double 
personality does not occur in healthy life ; it is wholly a patho- 
logical condition. The so-called subwaking self does not obtrude 
itself and assume command of the individual except through 
morbid conditions unless he be neurotically predisposed ; un- 
less his higher cerebral centres are liable it may be through 
heredity to lose their controlling influence, their inhibitory 
power. The Abbe C. Piat is in line with all the best authori- 
ties when he says:* "II existe une continuite de conscience 
. . . dans les de"doublements simultanes. Le moi normal y 
vit dans un commerce incessant bien que parreseux avec le 
moi second ; il en suit d'un regard nonchalant les penses, les 
Emotions, et les entretiens. ... II est done encore cet 
autre, et le second moi ne peut etre conside're' que comme une 
distraction grossie par un etat pathologique." 

*La Personne Humaine, p. 384. 




1899-] A CHEERFUL VIEW OF A HARD PROBLEM. 659 
A CHEERFUL VIEW OF A HARD PROBLEM. 

BY ROSE HAWTHORNE LATHROP. 

DO not know that charity is ever looked upon as 
a pleasant pastime. It usually is taken with a 
large amount of seasoning, such as fairs, sewing- 
j| bees, church suppers, and all that sort of thing ; 
and even then the real work is done by persons 
at the seat of war, so to speak. When the idea is suggested, 
to people who do not even attend sewing-bees or affairs in 
aid of the poor, that one should diligently labor for the des- 
titute in the worst condition of disease and want known, the 
response is usually one of genuine horror. It is said that 
there is no such condition of things, just as I fancy some of 
us would be very apt to say there were not certain conditions 
of sin which a long life sometimes brings to notice. 

The subject about which I write, and which I would gladly 
make interesting to the general public, is one that can hardly 
be made agreeable ; but nevertheless I can testify that such a 
life as I lead with a few companions in a poor district, among 
the sick, has many agreeable points. As it is my earnest desire 
to get women to join me who have a natural talent for nursing, 
and a natural inclination to nurse those who need it most, I 
think it might be well for me to present the bright side of the 
care of the cancerous poor. 

I suppose any one thinking of half a dozen women working 
on the East Side of New York, living in a tenement and work- 
ing in tenements, would think first of all of the suffocation of 
bad air, the unpleasant aspect of things generally, to say noth- 
ing of the frightful dangers from footpads and drunken crea- 
tures. Now, the first thing that strikes me when I emerge 
from the house, early in the morning, is the fresh air from the 
East River, rushing towards me over a large park which could 
not be better regulated as to neatness and good taste in ar- 
rangement. Then I become conscious of some beautiful effects 
of sky and cloud, the charming outlines of Brooklyn across the 
water, with its lovely tints under the rising sun ; and I see the 
Navy-yard shining with its white cruisers, that frequently boom 
out their salutes to incoming or outgoing companions. Often 
VOL.LXVIII. 42 



<?6o 



A CHEERFUL VIEW OF A HARD PROBLEM. 



[Feb., 



a sail boat, and sometimes a 
craft as large as a four-masted 
schooner, trips rapidly over the 
water at the foot of the square, 
past the other shipping, making 
a vigorous and delightful scene. 
There is absolutely no stifled air 
or loss of all particularly fine 
outlooks in going to work for 
the poor in Water Street. The 
melancholy notion that in living 
among the poor one is in con- 
stant danger as to life and pro- 
perty, has given place in our 
minds to considerable doubt as 
A BIT OF FRESH AIR FROM THE RIVER. to whether there is any really 
dangerous place where people can live ; and though I have 
spent a life often terrified in imagination at the memory of what 
our ancestors suffered from the Indians, and what we might 
suffer from them if we went far enough West, I am beginning 
to believe that the stories of Indian ferocity would dwindle 
down to inoffensive fellowship if I threw myself upon Indian 

mercy. I 
pass through 
the streets all 
about here, 
some of them 
with murder- 

t ous 





THE CITY PARK OFFERS A PLEASING CONTRAST TO CROWDED STREETS. 



1899-! A CHEERFUL VIEW OF A HARD PROBLEM. 66 1 

I 




A STREET WITH A MURDEROUS REPUTATION. 

tions, and were I not alone I would laughingly discuss the 
wonderful neatness and quiet, and sufficiently patrolled condi- 
tion, of these alarming streets. The house in which I live, a 
tumble-down tenement, has its front door always ajar, and the 
windows of our rooms on the first floor were not locked until 
a nervous patient came to us. 

Of course a hospital-home, such as I hope to induce the 
public to obtain for us, will be pleasant and neat as any struc- 
ture can be when it is simple and adequate. Women know how 



662 



A CHEERFUL VIEW OF A HARD PROBLEM. 



[Feb.! 




easy it is to produce pretty effects without 
confusion, overcrowding, or over-expense. I 
do not think that the free cancer hospital 
I have in prospect will have many unpleasant 
features, but I am not surprised to find 
that persons, calling upon me to investigate 
our little tenement home for incurables, 
step in hesitatingly with a shocked expres- 
sion already adjusted ; and if they do ven- 
ture upstairs where they see not only the 
outside patients, who come to have ulcers 
dressed, but the real cancer cases, mostly in 
an advanced condition feel very keenly the 
sudden revelation of suffering, because there 
is no way of shutting off this state of things, 
my home at present being as informal and crowded as a pri- 
vate house into which have been brought the wounded from 
a skirmish in war-time. It is wonderful, however, to find how 
soon the nurse loses her horror of a peculiar case, and takes 
intelligent interest in attending to and amusing a person so 
much afflicted. I hear a great deal in my visits to cases to 
which I am called about the outcries and general agony of 

persons who are 



ill with cancer, 
but proper 
dressings imme- 
diately produce 



THE "WHITE WINGS " 

CONTRIBUTES TO THE 

GENERAL COMFORT 

OF PEDESTRIANS. 




BUSY BUT CHEERFUL SHOPPERS ON ONE OF THE ClTY'S CROWDED AVENUES. 



1 899.] 



A CHEERFUL VIEW OF A HARD PROBLEM. 



663 






ANOTHER GLIMPSE OF GREEN. 

some ease, and proper medicines quiet the nerves ; so that it 
is a matter of comment among ourselves from day to day how 
little the patients seem to suffer who, we would suppose, would 
be in a state of active torture every hour. There is really very 
little torture even in this horrible disease when the treatments 
recommended at the New York Cancer Hos- 
pital are adopted. Perhaps several times a 
day there may be great suffering, but the 
sick have a great deal of comfort, if any 
one tries to give it to them. 

There is, of course, some difficulty to 
the nurses in exchanging a style of living 
which is orderly and comparatively quiet for 
the turmoil of a pauper district. I rank my 
sufferings in regard to noises 
with the other two trials of 
sleepiness not indulged in and 
weariness not rested. I really 
thought at one time that I 
should not be able to bear 
the constant uproar of the 

children and the midnight EvEN THE PooR SHARE IN THE DELIGHTS OF SH OP- 
revels of the drunkards, but PING SOMETIMES. 




664 A CHEERFUL VIEW OF A HARD PROBLEM. [Feb., 




"PILGRIMAGES OVER UNFAMILIAR STREETS." 

I must confess that I scarcely perceive now, after four months 
of what is called the noisiest street in New York, the rol- 
licking or brawling racket always going on. It would seem 
that the human frame is really a slave whom it is possible to 
subject at every point, and that the strength of the slave is 
herculean when once the creature is fully conquered. It is 
impossible to get entirely away from the amenities of life ! 
Into the turmoil of which I have hinted there constantly come, 
to people who have had connection with a more fortunate 
existence, messages and visitors from the old social circle, and 
these sweeten life very much. Little mementos and ornaments 
creep in, to win our hearts over again to the joys of existence ; 
and it soon becomes an affectionate warfare with the people 
we love who remain in the world, in order that the nurses who 
have given their lives up to hard work may not be kidnapped, 
to be kept in durance within the confines of luxury at fre- 
quent intervals during the year. But somehow the determina- 
tion to carry the work of charity on with completeness and 
adequate help to the poor is the dearest aim for any one who 
has once tasted the nectar of a self-denial which does not 
limit itself in idea, however weakly human nature cringes at 
some steps to be taken. I doubt if any district nurse, or 



1899] 



A CHEERFUL VIEW OF A HARD PROBLEM. 



665 



nurse in a hospital in a poor district, who has laid out for 
herself a plan at all in keeping with the commands of the New 
Testament, would feel so much at ease in her old surround- 
ings of rest and amusement as under the ) oke of charitable 
labor. Nevertheless, the glimpses of friends which she gets, 
through their generous pilgrimages over unfamiliar streets in 
order to see her and cheer her, are like refreshing draughts on 
a long journey afoot. The postman's budget of letters is beau- 
tiful with handwriting that is precious, and the words of en- 
couragement brought by mail or spoken during a rapid call 
are found simply indispensable to her courage. It must also 
be noted that the humble appreciation and cordiality of the 
poor, sometimes awkward, sometimes refined and beautiful be- 
cause of the naturally gentle natures of many of the poor, are 
a very sweet daily element in district work. 

Often there is a great deal of picturesqueness about the 
pauper life itself, to say nothing of figures and tints among 
children and laborers which might be painted with a great 
satisfaction to the best art-critics. There are the startlingly 
effective groups of young folks around a huge bonfire, of which 
there is a brilliant series during the winter-time. One night, 
as I walked home in the moonlight by the water, I saw a row 
of four im- 
mense drays, 
seated, as it 
were, upon the 
cobble-sto n es, 




CITY LIFE HAS A PICTURESQUENESS ALL 



666 



A CHEERFUL VIEW OF A HARD PROBLEM. 



[Feb., 



: * 




A PEDESTRIAN IN NEW YORK CATCHES PICTURE 

AFTER PICTURE DOWN CROSS-STREETS OF 

RIVER AND SUNSET VIEWS. 



To wait for 
city is to give 



with their shafts drawn up towards the sky. 
A brilliant ruddy light touched off all the 
outlines, and close to one of the carts was 
to be seen the great bonfire some boys had 
built, the nucleus of the blaze being a bar- 
rel and the moving spirit a can of kerosene. 
It was a bitterly cold night, and the boys 
had all an air of conscious 
wisdom as they grouped them- 
selves about this delightful 
centre. These bonfires may 
be found at all points roaring 
and dancing away to the satis- 
faction of the entire populace. 
No box or basket or old sofa, 
or any inflammable material, 
is quite safe in winter days, 
and no one seems to think of 
interrupting the boys in their 
ecstatic play with fire, 
some of the outlying streets of the 
minutes, very likely, of a brisk 



a car on 
one's self five 

Italian scene, where a cheap tenement-house is being run up 
in short order. Handsome creatures in artistic garb, prettily 
varied in colors of shirt and scarf, slide down and up the lad- 
ders with graceful motions of unburdened steps, or the equally 
graceful motions of struggling muscles weighted with a heavy 
load. Everywhere on the East Side one is likely to happen 
upon the never-wearying effects of the shipping and blue, 
windy water or misty shores ; and here in New York the 
pedestrian always has a chance, at the right hour, to catch 
picture after picture of the western heavens down cross-streets, 
which are all the more soul-stirring from their contrast to the 
scene which has been looked at all day long, within tenement 
walls. 

In regard to starting a new charity, there is an opinion 
prevalent that nothing will be met with but discouragement 
from those who are expected to be charitable. A very rich 
man has not only his city and country house, perhaps some- 
what multiplied also, but he will be sure to tell you that he 
has two hospitals on his hands. In short, an Egyptian hiero- 
glyphic of one of the Pharaohs is the only thing that could 
illustrate his hampered condition. You are told that the well- 



1899-] A CHEERFUL VIEW OF A HARD PROBLEM. 667 

to-do have spent their pin-money upon the foreign missions, 
and that in a year's time you will cease to exist as a new 
charity. The fact is, that a new charity which is as much 
needed as that dealing with orphans, a charity dealing with 
women destitute of care and unable to support themselves, yet 
in the grasp of a terrible disease, is responded to with the 
depth of cordiality which greets a call to arms if one's country 
is in danger, supposing the responder to be capable of nobility. 
The methods of securing aid and manipulating resources in 
charity are by no means as exquisitely finished and effective 
as those used in national defence, but let me prophesy that 
they will be one of these days. 

The first thing to do, in my opinion, is for those who can 
best afford the time to give themselves to the labor of so per- 
fecting the science of charity that it may become adequate, 
instead of being as it is at present, often ridiculously defec- 
tive. Who are these members of the race who have the most 
time to give, and who will least be missed in withdrawing 
themselves from "the world," so called? They are women 
who have no indissoluble ties, and who have the good sense to 
realize that the life of an earnest woman, wherever she is, is 




BROADWAY WHERE IT is NARROW. 



one of suffering. They are the women who choose to do with 
less of the ameliorations of life to this good end of nursing 
destitute women, which I have stated to be, in my opinion, of 
equal importance with patriotism. 



668 



A CH-EERFUL VIEW OF A HARD PROBLEM. 



[Feb., 




Mi, v 

THE CROWDED QUARTERS AT WATER STREET. 

I was informed about a French charity which takes care in 
a number of hospitals, both in France and England, of incur- 
able cancer cases. I was told that in America these incurable 
cases, when destitute, are terribly neglected ; and, if attended 
to at alt, are dismissed from hospitals after six months, whether 
death steps in as a relief or years of suffering must ensue. I 
felt that, as I had time to give to charity, this was the charity 
I would take up, in the hope of assisting to repeat here the 
success of the charity in France. Doctors told me there was 
great need of the work, as a large number of cases existed 
among the poor and were increasing constantly. Most of my 
friends begged me not to enter into such a loathsome occupa- 
tion. I persisted ; took a few rooms in the poorest district ; 
immediately found myself appealed to by persons afflicted with 
the disease ; soon had several patients living with me in my 
little rooms, and was joined by a few women as interested as 
myself in the scheme. At the end of two years and a half I 
find myself more strenuously encouraged by the sympathy of 
others than at the beginning of my work. Once in a while I 



1899-] ^ CHEERFUL VIEW OF A HARD PROBLEM. 669 

fortify my finances by appeals in the daily press for money, 
clothing, and medicines for the poor sick I care for, and imme- 
diately there is a moderate response from charitable persons, 
sufficient to keep me at my post. 

It is the hope of the Servants of Relief, as we call our- 
selves, that a permanent home, accommodating at least fifteen 
patients, may be secured by methods for obtaining public in- 
terest ; and we believe that this house will in itself strike the 
public, in future, as an argument that carries its point well. 
Our peculiar trait will be, that we dwell closely among the 
poor, sharing as much as possible, if the expression can be 
permitted, their deprivations, and also their cold and heat, their 
laborious effort to exist, and their old-fashioned harshness of 
conveniences, in order that these things may be remembered 
and done away with. We trust that our own laborious effort 
will help to elucidate the difficult question of how a charity- 
hospital may be a kindly home. 

As soon as a woman is incapacitated for self-support, she 
should be given a home by those who are capable of giving it 
to her; and that home should not be a travesty, but worthy 
of the sacred name. 

We have no object in life but to supply this need, in one 
line of its outreaching growth from the central root of desti- 
tution ; and as women never turn aside from misery without 
assisting it, and as we have hundreds of letters from men and 
women which express entire enthusiasm for our budding en- 
deavor, we believe that both women's work and men's money 
will enrich this charity for the immediate help of destitute 
souls. 

Free Home for Incurable Cancer, 
668 Water Street, New York. 




670 CHIQUITA. [Feb., 

CHIQUITA. 

BY JOHN J. A BECKET. 

'OM HAVEN was not a success by virtue of .en- 
deavor, and good luck had not been thrust 
upon him. He had made a college course, 
been a newspaper man, cow-boy, prospector, a 
business man whose partner had decamped with 
all the money in the firm, and now he was a miner. He was 
also the father of Chiquita. He felt himself that this meant 
the greatest success of his life. When Haven had hope and 
strength and youth as his capital, he had married a handsome 
Mexican girl. Now he was forty, working as a miner in this 
wild mountain range in California, and Carmen, his wife, 
stricken by some strange malady, was confined to her bed most 
of the time, body and heart wasting away alike. 

A. change, this, from the days when the strong, square- 
shouldered, easy-going gringo had won the dark-eyed girl who 
danced his heart away with her grace and abandon. Tom's 
shoulders were rounded a little now under the burden of life, 
and his blue eyes, which once flashed with a merry twinkle, 
though steady and clear, would never know again that gay 
sparkle. Youth, the lamp-lighter of the eyes, had parted from 
him years ago. 

Yet life was not all a failure while he had Chiquita and 
Tommy. The father and mother seemed to see themselves 
beginning life again in these two. Chiquita was a miniature 
edition of her mother. Carmen had taught her little daughter 
the sprightly steps of the cachuca, fandango, and other graceful 
measures. It was Chiquita's one accomplishment. 

But although she was only twelve she was a womanly little 
creature and full of resources. When poor Carmen was stricken 
down, the child forthwith blossomed into grave, foreseeing, pro- 
tecting ways. She was a ministering angel to her mother, a tire- 
less guardian to her small five-year-old brother, and the light of 
life to Tom Haven. The sight of the bright child warmed the 
tired blue eyes into a tender glow ( His big heart clung to 
Chiquita as it did to nothing else on earth. Carmen Haven 
was more wrapped up in the sturdy boy whose brilliant color- 



1899.] CHIQUITA. 671 

ing recalled the handsome fellow who had given her life its 
richest happiness. 

The family mansion was the most modest structure in the 
whole mining camp. It was tucked in against a ledge which 
reached out in a friendly way over part of the slanting roof. 
The tiny home with its two rooms and the attic (if that is not 
too fine a name for the space between the wooden ceiling and 
the roof) clung to the hard gray rock like a periwinkle. But 
this absurd little house was full of love, as the chalice of a 
flower is of perfume. No devotee cherished a protecting saint 
more than big, serious Tom Haven did his sweet little Chiquita. 
She, fragrant blossom of humanity, loved them all with a passion 
of affection her poor stricken mother, her strong, grave father, 
and the darling, rosy play-boy Tom. What a wholesome ardor 
there was in her protecting care of the romping, golden-haired 
youngster ! He was the one merry soul in the household, and 
played the livelong day as happy as if he were a king's son 
and lived in a palace. There was no service Chiquita did not 
think of for this small lord of her heart. 

She did everything there was to do about the diminutive 
home. Her body was so strong, her great heart so willing and 
eager, and her activity so prudent and sweetly untiring. She 
rose with the lark, made the fire, got breakfast, and prepared 
the lunch for her father to take with him to the distant shaft, 
where he went early in the morning and stayed till sundown. 
Through the day the little housewife busied herself with a 
hundred matronly things, lightened the weary hours of her 
stricken mother and kissed and fondled and played with Tom, 
her idol. 

The camp had no greater personage than Chiquita. The 
rough miners and their hardy wives cherished her mightily. 
Once a week Tom Haven took his little girl to the " store." 
There, in the dusky effulgence of two kerosene lamps, Chiquita, 
clad in a cheap pink cambric gown and with a rose in her jet- 
black hair, danced with smiling dignity for the rough men who 
sat around, their legs crossed and their horny hands clasped 
over their knees, as they watched her airy grace with solemn 
intensity. There was never a loose word, a careless oath, not 
even a rough movement in that hard audience when Chiquita 
mellowed it to refinement by her untutored, womanly yet child- 
like dignity. The charm of the pure, dainty little girl chas- 
tened them into gentle-folk. 

At the end she made a slow curtsy to them, said " Good- 



672 CHIQUITA. [Feb., 

evening, gentlemen," in her soft voice, put her tiny hand, that 
had clicked the castanets so rhythmically, into her father's stout 
fingers and walked back to the miserable shanty snuggled in 
under the frowning ledge, happy and innocent. 

One night Tom Haven had to stay at the mine. He kissed 
Chiquita " good-by " more tenderly than ever because it was 
to be longer than usual before he would return to her solacing 
tenderness. He bade her with all seriousness take good care 
of her mother and her baby brother till he came back, and to 
think of papa while he was away. Her soft, sweet kiss on his 
lips was a dagger of memory to pierce his heart with cruel 
sweetness in the after years. He looked back at the turn of 
the rough path that wound up the mountain and she waved 
her brown hand in encouragement. Then after one look out on 
the wide-stretching world, so bright and wild and lonely, Chi- 
quita joyously went into the small hut. 

That night a strong wind came roaring through the gully 
like a demon. It rushed shrieking at the mining camp and 
flouted it with buffeting gusts. It made Tom Haven's house 
under the ledge wail and whistle like a tortured seolian harp. 
It blew fiercely down the adobe chimney and whipped the 
great log Chiquita had put on the stone hearth into singing 
flames. 

The healthy, tired children heeded the boisterous clamor of 
the gale no more than the sea-gull minds the hissing wind that 
tosses it about. It was a lullaby that drowned the soft 
breathings of slumber into which it sung them. Poor Carmen 
Haven was the last of the three to sink into the blessed re- 
freshment of sleep. There was a melancholy undertone in the 
wildly shrieking wind to which her soul vibrated forlornly. She 
felt her helpless condition keenly. It was hard on poor Tom 
Haven to have her such a cripple. At last, with a long, quiv- 
ering sigh she too sank into slumber. 

The wind tore and raved and ramped about them as if the 
simple house clinging to the protecting rock infuriated its sav- 
age mood. But the trio slept on, breathing lightly, like small 
birds in a nest. 

Suddenly Chiquita was roused from her sleep by a stinging 
bite on her smooth cheek. She awoke at once to full con- 
sciousness. Then she sat up with a sudden, soft little cry. 

Sparks like a frenzied cloud of red fire-flies were whirling 
around in the room. Through the cracks in the wooden ceiling 
spirals of drab smoke were curling like gray snakes roused to a 



1899-] CHIQUITA. 673 

sluggish activity. Now and then a bright glow flushed them 
with rose color. 

Tom Haven's home was on fire and a friendly spark had 
awakened its guardian angel. 

Instantly Chiquita's thoughts flew to the wooden box in the 
corner of the room. A shower of sparks was falling on it. In 
it, after the fashion of miners, the child knew that her father 
kept a store of giant powder wrapped in a coarse bag. 

Like a startled fawn she sprang up, a cry like a swift prayer 
breaking from her. In her haste to get out her feet became 
entangled in the bed-clothes and the agile little dancer was 
thrown violently to the floor. She felt an excruciating pain in 
her leg. When she strove to stand it hurt her so she could not. 
With dauntless resolution she crawled to her mother's cot and 
tugged at the clothes, calling aloud to her. Tommy in fright 
at the roar and smoke and flying sparks buried his curly, golden 
head under the bed-clothes. 

" Mamma, the house is on fire ! " gasped Chiquita. " Get out 
with Tommy as fast as you can," she screamed in an agony of 
apprehension lest delay might be fatal. Then, as Carmen wildly 
raised herself up and, clutching the boy in her arms, fled through 
the fiery shower to the door, Chiquita dragged herself along 
toward the box as fast as she could. The pain in her leg made 
her moan at every motion. Her dark hair streaming down over 
her back, she at last crawled to the box, hastily dashed off the 
hot particles that had fallen on top of it, heedless of her 
hands ; then, by a last convulsive effort, raised her body and 
flung herself out over the perilous case, covering it with her 
supple young frame from the fiery downfall. 

Carmen, when she found herself out of the house with 
Tommy and saw that Chiquita had not followed her, uttered 
piercing screams of despair which soon brought some of the 
miners to the spot. 

"Chiquita! In there, O Dio Santo ! " she gasped wildly, and 
sank fainting on the ground. 

Two or three of the rough men rushed in and found the 
child clinging to the box, the sparks falling in a shower on her 
white night-gown and eating their way through to her little 
body. But she clung to the box dauntlessly, her frame quiver- 
ing, and low, pitiful moans escaping from her despite herself. 
The men grasped the situation at a glance, and gathering the 
child and the box into their arms bore them swiftly out of the 
smoke-filled room. 

Then they tenderly lifted the child and brushed the sparks 



674 CHIQUITA. [Feb., 

from off her. They bore the small sufferer to a neighboring 
shanty, and there did all that their simple knowledge suggested 
with heartfelt earnestness. The brave young spirit tried to 
suppress any indication of the agony she was put to by her in- 
juries. But the dark, sweet face was drawn into a tortured 
look. She felt strength failing her. Her round, bright eyes 
looked forth with indomitable courage, and the dainty lips 
made a pitiful effort to smile that those around might be reas- 
sured. She begged them to bring Tommy to her, after she had 
learned that her mother and the boy were safe. The rosy 
youngster, unharmed but ruffled like a downy bird, and with a 
scared look on his face, was brought to her bedside by one of 
the miners. Carmen was unable to leave the bed where they 
had placed her, and in the intervals of semi-consciousness did 
nothing but moan " Chiquita ! " with an accent of terrified an- 
guish. 

As the beautiful, troubled boy was held toward her the dark 
face of Chiquita lit up with the sweetest wistfulness and grati- 
tude. She stretched out her poor burned arms and said joy- 
ously: " Kiss me, Tommy ; kiss Chiquita. Oh ! how happy I am 
that I saved you and mamma." 

Frightened, and with his bright face still troubled, the boy 
put his plump arms about his sister and clung to her closely. 
Though his embrace made Chiquita wince, she gave no sign of 
this as she kissed him with trembling eagerness. But after a 
moment through sheer exhaustion her arms fell from him and 
she lay panting while they bore him away, crying tumultuously 
as if his heart would break. 

She had saved them, but the ebbing of her forces told her 
she had not- saved herself for long. With the sense that her life 
was waning her whole great heart turned to her father. 

" Oh ! when will papa be here ? " she moaned. " I cannot 
go without seeing him. Oh ! do bring him to me." 

Some one had gone for Tom Haven as soon as Chiquita's 
condition was realized. But the shaft was a mile and a quarter 
higher up the gully. Chiquita, her breath getting fainter and 
fainter while the pain made a furrow in her smooth forehead, 
kept glancing toward the door with her dark, glittering eyes. 
" Papa ! O papa ! I must see you," she moaned again and again. 

There was a quick, crunching step outside. The next 
moment Tom Haven, white as a sheet, his hair clinging damply 
to his brow, burst panting into the room. 

" O papa ! " cried Chiquita, stretching her arms toward him 
as he sank upon his knees at the side of the bed and gently 



1899-] CHIQUITA. 675 

enfolded her in his strong arms, " I saved mamma and Tommy. 
They are not hurt. I love you so dearly. I am so 

What it was that Chiquita would have told him his heart 
had to gather, for with the pressure of his lips on hers 
the last atom of strength deserted her. Her tired little head 
sank against his shoulder, and the brave young arms fell limply 
over his. Tom Haven held in his straining embrace the pretty 
form of Chiquita, but the white soul which had stirred it to 
dainty dance-steps in Cogan's " store " had gone to God. 

After seeing his wife and Tommy and making every provi- 
sion for their comfort, they, could not keep him from the quiet 
burnt body which had been so full of gracious activity when 
he left her in the morning, after consigning her mother and 
brother to her care. She had kept the trust well. 

There was one more pang of sorrow in store for Tom Haven, 
something that pierced his very heart whenever he recalled 
it in the dreary after years. While the miners' wives were pre- 
paring his little girl for her simple burial, one of them, who 
was moving the still body, suddenly exclaimed with a thought- 
less surprise and sympathy: "Why, her leg's broke!" 

She was terrified at the storm of sobs which shook the big 
frame of Tom Haven as he heard her words. A strong man 
convulsed with weeping is an awesome sight. He fell upon 
his knees as if he were at some holy shrine, and with trembling 
lips reverently kissed the shattered body of his child, broken 
in its labor of love broken for her dear ones. And they had 
not even known it until she was dead ! 

Silently they tiptoed out and left him alone with his little 
Chiquita, that his stormy grief might spend itself over those 
hallowed remains. 

They buried her in a shady corner of the gully, with a 
stream singing merrily below, and the solemn pines whispering 
in tranquil sympathy above her head. Every morning Tom 
Haven passes the spot on his way to the mine, and he pauses 
invariably for a brief c6mmunion with his slumbering little girl. 
Many a blade of tender young grass that has sprung up over 
the small hillock has had its thread of root watered by a warm 
tear from his worn blue eyes. Every day he grows more 
gaunt and his eyes seem to be more introspective. The miners 
rub their rough chins as they see him waste away. But they 
do not mention Chiquita. 

Carmen did not survive the shock of that bitter night many 
days. The old Tom and the young Tom live alone. Every 
VOL. LXVIII. 43 



676 CHIQUITA. [Feb., 

Sunday the father and the growing golden boy go to the 
small grave in the valley, and the father tells the boy anew 
that his little sister loved him enough to die for him, and that 
greater love than this no one hath. He does not tell him that 
he lives for him, but the miners feel that this is true. 

Tom is growing daily into strength, and he looks ever more wist- 
fully out over the stretch of wild mountain region with desire to get 
to the great city far below, where there is larger life. Chiquita 
is becoming an impersonal memory for him. He chafes for the 
fiercer, more engrossing work and rewards that lie in the town. 

Tom Haven does not blame the boy. He, his father, recalls 
the adventurous changes of his own boyhood and youth. When 
the fierce edge of impatient desire and presumptuous hope have 
been slowly filed away by the hard rebuffs of life, Tom feels 
that the little, cheery, strong sister, the child-martyr of love, 
will be revived as a chastening memory in her brother's soul. 
But he shrinks from what may befall the ardent youth who will 
have no Chiquita to watch over and assist him in his struggles. 

Then there came rumors to the small camp in the moun- 
tains. The woes of the oppressed Cubans at our very threshold 
demanded neighborly interference and nothing short of the 
heavy hand of war could coerce those who misused them into 
justice. The government called for volunteers. The slender, 
wiry stripling heard these stirring reports. He was nearly 
twenty now. ^The romance, the glory, the rush and conflict, 
the journeying, pricked his imagination and stirred his desire. 

He told his father he must go. The fever was in his blood. 
Tom Haven knew that if he refused his consent, his boy would 
go without it. He >had no wish to refuse. Had his own broken 
strength permitted, he would have gone himself. 

It was a glorious Sunday when the boy told his father his 
wish. He had accompanied Tom on his pilgrimage to the small 
grave up in the cafton, something he had not done for a long 
time. There, at the grave of the little sister who had risked 
her life quite as a soldier might, for the interests entrusted to 
her, he said he wished to go to the war. 

" She would want me to go, dad, if she was alive," he said 
ingenuously. 

Tom Haven looked at him with glistening eyes, for he felt 
that this was true. 

" Go, Tom," he replied in a low voice. " And when you 
have to fight or face danger for your country, remember Chi- 
quita, who had a soldier's soul." 




1899-] THE ITALIAN REVOLUTION. 677 



THE END OF THE CENTURY AND THE ITALIAN 

REVOLUTION. 

BY REV. GEORGE McDERMOT, C.S.P. 

E are in the last year of the century of most 
vaunted progress. Almost in every point of 
view it differs from preceding ones. It is called 
the century of science and the century of 
political advancement. It is the century of new 
cults and the century of criticism. At other times men rever- 
enced the past ; they do so no longer. Pessimism used to be an 
amiable sort of weakness. It said, We are not as good as 
our fathers ; we are going down hill. It is now a malignity. 
Everything is a blunder, and it is well it should be so. Let 
the blind influences go on, smiting the fool who calls himself 
lord of the creation he whose greatest and least act is fixed 
for him and had been fixed in protoplasmistic times. 

Old ideas are dethroned. They ruled men and nations, but 
they were a superstition. They were in the way of progress. 
They were monarchical, oligarchical, conservative. Man should 
be free free to think and to tell his thought. When the mass 
was not a slave to one man it was a slave to a few. The 
latter was as the hundred-fold tyranny of the former, whether 
it was a Thirty in Athens or a Senate in Rome. All should 
share in government. Learning was the privilege and vindica- 
tion of a few. Philosophy, art, religion were expositions of 
authority. The first had its saws to sustain power, the second 
its rules to kill humble merit, the third was the practice of 
imitation to perpetuate a monopoly, and religion the chain flung 
by priests over intelligence in order that they might eat of the 
fat and drink of the strong. What is called democratic criticism 
flies at art, Biblical criticism at priestcraft, the science of the 
nineteenth century at philosophy, all at government as the in- 
strument of order. 

THE EXPLICIT WILL OF THE GOVERNED. 

Is order in a state necessary for the enjoyment of social 
life ? It would seem not, if certain theories put forward are 
carried to their legitimate conclusion. Take the unrestrained 



678 THE END OF THE CENTURY AND [Feb., 

freedom of Rousseau's savage as resting on one wing of the 
social contract, the theory that government must be the will 
of the governed explicitly declared as resting on the other. 
With but these principles it is impossible to calculate the 
future of existing nations. It is impossible, because no solid 
principle of right is behind and beneath the political theories 
in vogue and the experiments made in pursuance of them. 
Rousseau and Voltaire were both indebted to Locke for any 
appearance of philosophic thought in their views of government ; 
but Locke's principles were ex post facto, opinions framed to 
vindicate the Revolution. Consequently they are a philosophy 
of concrete vindication, the speculative conclusions of a theorist 
on his trial. 

The will of the governed explicitly declared is tacitly assum- 
ed to be the only foundation of just government. This habit 
of thought has no reality as a vital force. In France and Italy 
what stands for it is the transplantation of the doctrine to an un- 
congenial soil. It may. be that the Latin mind is too logical to 
assimilate a principle standing without antecedents a plausible 
and resounding period isolated in the realm of political philosophy 
while at the same time these representatives of Latin govern- 
ment and progress are externally subdued by the remarkable his- 
tory of England and America in the career of civilization and law. 
A glamour may be flung over the mind by the achievements of 
a nation as well as of an individual ; and so rebellious Italy of 
several small states might be fired by the example of England 
proceeding in a course of political advancement and material 
prosperity at a rate which distanced all the other nations, and 
this from the time when she declared that loyalty was condi- 
tional and the authority of the state had no sanction but the 
will of the people expressed by their representatives. 

THE ITALIAN REVOLUTIONIST ADOPTS THE THEORY. 

The Italian revolutionist adopted the doctrine that the de- 
clared assent of the governed was the authority for good govern- 
ment, just as if it were not possible that there should be any 
other kind of assent. Now, the assent in question might in fact 
be tacit, could be as well evinced by the affectionate loyalty of a 
whole people as by the pronouncement of a self-constituted con- 
vention declaring the throne vacant for a foreigner to replace 
the king. We do not say the body of the English people felt 
anything like affectionate loyalty to James II. in 1688, but it is 
conceivable that there could be loyalty to a king without ex- 



1899-] THE ITALIAN REVOLUTION. 679 

pressing it in state papers ; attachment to his person without 
recording it in the minutes of corporations or declaring it in 
the speeches of statesmen, proposing or supporting addresses to 
the crown. This is not merely conceivable it has happened 
over and over again but what is more to the purpose we 
maintain a government may justify itself as a good one with- 
out a declared commission from the mass of the people. Such 
we hold to have been the governments in Italy before 1848 
and such the government of England until 1688. Their formal 
title was of course prescription, but their substantial one was the 
maintenance of law and order. We say, with a certain hesita- 
tion, that an usurped authority, having gained prescriptive rights, 
may legitimate itself by satisfying aspirations and preserving 
peace. The satisfying of aspirations, though a somewhat inde- 
finite phrase, includes within it the reflection of a people's will 
that is, the expressing of the will of the whole people and 
not that of an official class. This is incompatible with general 
discontent, even though this goes no further than the press and 
platform ; but when discontent expresses itself everywhere in in- 
surrection, the government is condemned. It may put down in- 
surrection by superior force, but a tyrant or anybody can govern 
in a state of siege. In the May of 1898 this is what the revo- 
lutionary government of Italy exhibited as its title to replace 
the immemorial prescription of the popes, the prescriptive titles 
venerable enough in antiquity of the other princes. 

BEGINNINGS OF UNITED ITALY. 

The rise of the house of Savoy is an interesting subject to 
the student of politics. Manifold influences curiously conflict- 
ing in their ordinary tendency co-operated in producing it. 
Without a drop of Latin blood, Charles Albert represented the 
Latin ideas of Alfieri and all the dreamers who paved the way 
for the royal revolution consummated in 1859. The history of 
Italian states presents a phantasmagoria of ideas begot of 
imagination acting under the direction of profound craft and un- 
bounded ambition. From a few robbers and fishermen in the 
lagoons of Venice began the patricians who believed they were 
the descendants of the Conscript Fathers of old Rome. The 
prince-merchants of Genoa rivalled them in pride and preten- 
sion. Throughout the mediaeval republics there was a like claim 
to the traditions of the antique past combined with astonishing 
enterprise and statesmanship. When most of the latter fell 
under the control of particular families they preserved the 



68o THE END OF THE CENTURY AND [Feb., 

forms of freedom like Rome under the emperors. There was 
the further resemblance that as in Rome so in these states the 
rulers retained power by policy and force. In their institutions 
and discontent their citizens kept alive the memory of an 
idealized Roman liberty and strength, as if they came in the 
right line of descent from the Romans. The illusion was ren- 
dered complete by the Renaissance, which learned something of 
the glories of Greece and Rome, nothing of the storms which 
had blotted out from the greater part of Italy every man, 
woman, and child of Roman blood. 

INSURRECTION IN LOMBARDY. . 

In 1848 Charles Albert crossed the Ticino from Piedmont 
to aid the insurrection in Lombardy. The very name of the 
Lombard tells his barbarian origin. What had he to do with 
memories of ancient Rome ? What connection had Charles 
Albert with the principles which made tyrannicide a cult ? " I 
come," he declared in his proclamation " I come as brother to 
brother, as friend to friend " ; and in token of fidelity to revo^ 
lutionary ideas he blended his ancient shield with the Italian 
tricolor. On the surface the cause of Lombardy was a just 
one. The reader who delights in history as an old almanac 
will only see Austrian oppression on the one part, the patriot- 
ism of the King of Piedmont on the other. But Charles Albert, 
though he moved under the enthusiasm of ideas of liberty and 
the restoration of Italian unity, in reality intended to annex 
the Lombardo-Venetian possessions to his own if the Austrians 
should be expelled. The rule in Venice has been described as 
a cold and remorseless tyranny. It was said to be more. It 
was said to be a plague which so corrupted society that the 
imprecations of every man who had suffered during the cen- 
turies under the lawless law of the Ten must have borne fruit 
in a retribution by which the tyrants of the great republic who 
had shed innocent blood like water, and killed by suborned 
tongues the fearless and the just who from time to time had 
stood against them, were punished in the fate of their descen- 
dants in the shame which made their daughters a hissing to the 
foreign soldier and branded the name of coward on the forehead 
of their sons. But for this the King of Piedmont had no more 
real regard than would be had by his son Victor Emmanuel. 
Caught in the enthusiasm from the past which blinded all the 
people at the time, he believed he could turn it to his own 
purposes. There was in him, as in the princes of his house, 



1899-] THE ITALIAN REVOLUTION. 68 1 

great personal bravery and a share of military talents. He 
relied upon the sympathy of England and the aid of France.* 
These supports to his own army, and the Lombards intoxicated 
with visions of the old-time grandeur of the Italian name, 
caused him to look with confidence for success. 

He burst into Lombardy like a robber. A few slight ad- 
vantages followed the audacious enterprise, to be soon effaced 
by the victory of the Austrians at Custozza. Then France 
began to sneer, and England, after her manner on such occa- 
sions, proceeded to deliver homilies on the violation of interna- 
tional law to the defeated invader. Milan was invested by the 
Austrians. Charles Albert signed the surrender, but the revo- 
lutionists proclaimed war to the last. They rose with cries of 
death to the King of Piedmont, attacked the Greppi palace, 
smashed his equipages, howled curses on the deliverer of yes- 
terday. The picture of Charles Albert is pitiable. He stood 
on the balcony pale as a ghost from sickness and anxiety, his 
eyes haggard, a paper in his hands. Below him the mob 
shrieked for his death, while the work of destruction in the cut- 
offices and grounds was giving earnest of what awaited him. 
He obtains a hearing. The paper is his own copy of the 
capitulation to Marshal Radetzky. He promises to continue 
the war to the last drop of his blood, and tears the paper be- 
fore their eyes. 

A GOLDEN JUBILEE AMIDST STARVATION. 

This was the beginning of Italian unity in the sphere of 
practical politics, the crystallization of dreams airy as the beliefs 
of madness, the conventional conversion of the assassin's oath 
into a policy which put a revolution of robbery and license, of 
lust and atheism, into line with the nations forming the com- 
monwealth of Europe. Every year since Italian unity became 
almost an accomplished fact with its capital at Turin, and en- 
tirely that with its capital at Rome, it has presented to the 
unseeing world those appalling features. Unlimited spoliation 
has not enriched it. Ingratitude to the unhappy nation which 
opened a way for its success has only given it the semblance 
of strength. England and the friends of revolution over Europe 
point to it as the triumph of liberty and reason over tyranny 

* It is very likely that Mazzini had reason to expect aid from France, as he says in his 
Cenni intorno rinsurrezione Lombarda. The probabilities favor the expectation ; the only 
doubt one might have arises from the man's character. He would be capable of making the 
charge as an offset to the restoration of the Pope by the French ; but in this France and not 
its revolution expressed itself. It is a puzzle. 



682 THE END OF THE CENTURY AND [Feb., 

and superstition. It is one of the triple alliance of military 
despots against civilization and the rights of labor. The off- 
spring of discordant ideas, the child of false enthusiasm wedded 
to narrow selfishness, it is a portent even in the nineteenth 
century. 

What do we see? The Revolution celebrates its golden 
jubilee amid a starving population. Maddened by hunger, the 
workmen rise through the length and breadth of Italy. Towns 
and villages are sacked ; government officials fly for their lives ; 
mills are destroyed ; the military are called out. How can bar- 
ricades be defended against cannon when behind them there 
are no better arms than stones torn from the streets ? The 
sight is horrible, revolting. Wild-eyed, thin-faced men sink 
under the fusilades with curses on their lips ; dishevelled women 
with babes in their arms oppose foul obscenities to the fire of 
the soldiers. The barricades are down, the pavements run 
with blood. Once more liberty and reason triumph in Italian 
unity ! 

WHAT ITALIAN UNITY HAS DONE FOR SOUTHERN ITALY. 

Take as a specimen of the law and order maintained in 
what was the kingdom of the Bourbons. Under them the 
south of Italy was a land of plenty and rejoicing.* There are 
no longer holidays ; the country has been dedicated to the gen- 
ius of famine. Last January in the Sicilian province of Gir- 
genti the workmen, with demands for food and labor, set fire 
to the residence of the mayor. Three thousand men in Cani- 
catti, in the same province, rose against the taxes and demanded 
work. They broke into the syndic's residence, took possession 
of the bureaus and wrecked them amid a scene of indescriba- 
ble confusion. In Cinisi, in the province of Palermo, the same 
story is told. In the Marches of Ancona the insurrection took 
a character of inconceivable violence under the guidance of 
the Socialists, availing themselves of the universal discontent at 
the price of food. We wonder whether the wretched people 
thought of the paternal rule of Pius IX., when no house was 
empty, when childhood lived its happy time, when young wo- 
men were modest and mothers honored in the home. Now 
children look with the "vicious lines of crafty age, maid and 
matron are furies, ragged bacchantes, like the hideous slovens 
whose words and gestures to the soldiery during the tumults 
could only be compared to those of a camp trull. Comparing 

* " Etait appelee le pays du ble et des fetes," says one who knows. 



1899-] THE ITALIAN REVOLUTION. 683 

the old king's benign rule with the sway of the revolution mon- 
arch, even a Garibaldian Englishman might think of La Fon- 
taine's lines : 

*' Jamais le Ciel ne fut aux humains si facile 
Que quand Jupiter meme etait de simple bois, 
Depuis qu'on 1'a fait d'or, il est sourd a nos voix." 

PEOPLE CLAMORING FOR BREAD. 

After great damage to property the insurrection was put 
down, to break out in other parts of the Marches. In Macerata 
and Sinigaglia the tumults were directed against the taxes. In 
the last year of the century of science and political liberty we 
have the motive of Wat Tyler's rebellion in England and its 
characteristic features, robbery, destruction, and the madness of 
despair. In Sinigaglia the buildings where grain was stored 
were sacked and pillaged. Prince Ruspoli, the mayor of Rome, 
was the proprietor of several of those granaries. Surely they 
ought to have been safe. An aristocrat gracing revolution by 
holding the highest office in the transformed city of the 
popes was an object worthy the respect of the sons of toil. 
The corn he had accumulated against the lean years ought to 
have been sacred. Was he not the disciple of Mazzini, the 
prophet of the knife ? If he charged famine prices for his corn 
to starving men, he was still the friend of humanity ; such a 
friend, it may be, as Madame Roland found the liberty of 1793 
was to justice. 

Similar scenes were enacted in Chiaravalle, Jesi, Osimo, and 
very many towns and villages besides. Sinigaglia had given up 
its great market under the popes to help the cause of Italian 
unity. Perhaps she did not reckon that famine would be the 
handmaid of the queenly guest. So with Ancona, so with all 
other places in the province. The only deliverance accomplished 
by the friends of liberty was freedom from comfort and content. 
We have been for a long time expecting a rebellion in the 
Marches and elsewhere. Love of insurrection is an Italian dis- 
ease. Ancona rose against the popes ; it will rise against the 
house of Savoy, which has done nothing to confer that title of 
justification which some political thinkers concede to good gov- 
ernment by an usurper. 

In Trevi (Perouse), Gallipoli (Lecce), Voltri (Genova),* there 
were tumults of like description. The peace in Rome was only 

* The names in parentheses are the provinces. 



684 THE END OF THE CENTURY AND [Feb., 

preserved by an overwhelming military demonstration. A pub- 
lic meeting. in imitation of the Roman Comitia had been an- 
nounced to be held in the Arena Garibaldi ; it was prohibited 
.ind the public safety secured by patrols of cavalry and the 
massing of forces at strategic points. We should like to know 
who satirized the freedom won by Italian unity in the couplet 

" Godetevi, O Quiriti. La splendide giorata : 
Che la rivoluzione Per oggi e rimandata." 

ORDER BY MEANS OF CAVALRY CHARGES. 

While we admit, nay insist upon the duty of maintaining order 
as the primary obligation of government, we may be permitted 
to recall the complaints made by the revolutionists against the 
princes that they maintained order by the sword. In what does 
the action of the revolutionary and kingly government in Rome, 
when it prevents a public meeting to be held according to a 
classical model, differ from the oppression of the house of Bour- 
bon when it refused to allow the followers of Mazzini and Gari- 
baldi to rob, fire houses, and commit murder on the plea of 
liberty and reason ? It seems quite clear that in the pomp and 
circumstance of war alone the method of maintaining order by 
the new regime differs from the old. The shooting would be 
better, the cavalry charges more irresistible, the number of the 
force employed greater. We do not suggest that the absurd 
recalling of the old comitia as an incitement was less dangerous 
to life and property than the methods of the assassins and in- 
cendiaries of Mazzini and Garibaldi in Naples. Francis II. 
would be condemned in any case because his was a lawful title, 
while the usurper enjoyed the merits which ring as with a halo 
the brows of those great and good men, like William of Orange 
and Victor Emmanuel of Sardinia, whom disinterested love of 
liberty elevated from the rule of petty states to the throne of 
vast possessions. But why does not the revolutionary king, the 
son of Re Galantuomo, the heir of Rienzi and the great Ju- 
lius, the embodiment of the ten thousand bewildering crazes 
which constitute the madness called Italian Unity, why does he 
not trust his united people, the citizens of the capital torn from 
the hands which saved it from barbarian, local tyrant, Euro- 
pean power hundreds of times? Vindictive justice sleeps when 
no Alaric is here, no Constable of Bourbon comes from the 

* Be joyful, O Romans ! this glorious day, 
For this day the Revolution is brought back ! 



1899-] THE ITALIAN REVOLUTION. 685 

north to smoke the reptiles in their cave. Even in Rome the 
bayonets of King Humbert cannot convince starving families 
that they are not hungry, although their suffering was not ex- 
pressed in such scenes as took place in the provinces. 

DEPTH OF POPULAR DISCONTENT. 

It would be idle to follow the sickening events. It was ad- 
mitted by ministerial authority that the destitution, hardly short 
of famine, which prevailed in the island of Sicily, a garden under 
the Bourbons, was almost equalled by that of every part of 
Italy.* In the province of Palermo the agricultural laborers 
broke out, crying " Down with the taxes ! Death to the starvers 
of the people! " Cannon and the bayonet silenced them. There 
were similar troubles in Catania. At Modica, in that province, 
the populace stoned the military, broke the windows, seized the 
bureau of the city tax and set it on fire. Order was restored 
by killing a few of the rioters and wounding many more. We 
are informed that in this town the starvation of the working 
classes was accentuated by a costly function, one part of which 
was a great ball given by the municipality. The gentlemen 
led to the entertainment their wives and daughters dressed with 
a magnificence previously unknown. The account, under the 
conditions present, reads like one of those terrible contrasts in 
which Goethe delighted. That is not all. A month was spent 
in begging bread from the authorities which lavished so much 
upon a public display ; and then the munificent sum of 2, or $10 
or 50 francs, was presented for the relief of ten thousand fami- 
lies. In Rome a customary donation of bread for the poor was 
to be made on the I4th of March. There was a mistake about 
the place where the distribution was to be made. At all 
events, the crowd collected at the wrong place. The bourgeois 
bakers could have easily rectified the matter by going to where 
the objects of their bounty had collected. These waited for a 
long time for the expected distribution. The king, on his way 
to a review attended by a gorgeous staff, passed them. They 
called out: "We want food and work." On his return tliey 
raised the same cry. In the evening the wretched creatures 
unfurled two flags, one national, the other local, and set out in 
procession. They went down the Corso, a young girl of eigh- 
teen years bearing a banner at their head. "Food and work!" 
was their sad demand in the street. In a moment the carabi- 

* In reply to the deputy Bovio, Rudini, in a tone of extenuation, said : " Che i mali della' 
Sicilia sono pressoche uguali a quelli delcontinente." 



686 THE ITALIAN REVOLUTION. [Feb. 

neers came up, charged, took the flag from the girl, dispersed 
the crowd, and saved Rome and United Italy ! 

These were the tumults and insurrections attributed by the 
government to the influence of the clergy. How far honest 
men may have been misled by the slander we cannot say, but 
a consensus of authority from all parts of Italy lays the cause 
of the discontent at the right door : Taxation beyond the 
capacity of the country to maintain military and naval arma- 
ments on a scale of rivalry with the great powers of Europe. 
The consequence of this taxation in the vastly augmented price 
of the necessaries of life, the diminution of work, and the spread 
of destitution. Even if there were not a single newspaper or 
book to tell the cause of the outbreaks, one would have inferred 
it from the policy of the government. It has taken the pro- 
perty of religious foundations of all kinds. Certain foreign in- 
stitutions were saved from confiscation by the intervention of 
the ambassadors of the states to which their owners belonged. 
The revenues of the church have been flung into a quicksand. 
A conscription which spares no poor man's son is paralyzing 
the life of the people and driving families to despair. We 
only await the change which a few years must bring as another 
proof to those which history gives, that violence and fraud 
shall have their term soon or late. 






THE COOL, SHADOWY VISTAS OF VAULTED AISLE. 

THE PAULIST COLONY. 

BY L. N. THORBURN-ARTZ. 

NE day last summer, about the hour of noon, an 
artist wandered into the Paulist Church, at Six- 
tieth Street and Columbus Avenue. The fierce 
July sun was beating down upon the pavements 
outside, but a cool twilight reigned inside the 



great, beautiful basilica. 



688 



THE PAULIST COLONY. 



[Feb., 



The artist gave a sigh of relief as he sank upon a bench 
near the door. Here he might rest and cool off. He was alone 
in the building except for the dimly discerned form of a woman 
who, at the farther end of the church, was moving sleepily to 
and fro, dusting the benches ; but she seemed more like a figure 
in a dream than a human being, such peaceful stillness pre- 
vailed. A faint noise came through the open doors, the clang 
of the bells on the cable-cars and the trembling shiver of the 
rails as the elevated trains rushed by, but mingled and softened 




ST. ANNE, THE MOTHER OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN, HAS HER SHRINE. 

to an indistinguishable blur of sound which only added to the 
drowsy spell of the place and the hour. 

The man leaned his head against a pillar and the cool stone 



1 899.] 



THE PAULIST COLONY. 



689 



was grateful to his flushed cheek. He fanned himself with the 
cover of his sketch-book and shut his eyes wearily, but he did 
not keep them closed long. He found that his sight, dazzled 
by the outdoor glare, was refreshed as he let his gaze rest up- 
on the cool, shadowy vistas of vaulted nave and aisle, whose 
dark piers lifted 
their height into 
obscurity, like 
giant forest trunks 
to the evening 
sky. It was like 
being in the woods 
at twilight, he 
thought. 

He began to 
distinguish, gradu- 
ally, bits of detail 
in the structure 
with that half-af- 
fectionate, admir- 
ing analysis to 
which all beau- 
tiful architecture 
inspires the artist, 
and instinctively 
he took out his 
pencil to sketch a 
bit here and there. 

The christen- 
ing font caught 
his eye, so sim- 
ple in line and THE SHAPE OF A HUMAN FIGURE FLOATING IN A CLOUDY SKY. 1 

harmonious in color with its many-hued marbles. The chapel 
alcove in which it stood was wainscoted high with a beautiful 
red and white marble, and in the marble there were curious 
forms which attracted the gaze and held it. Out of what 
seemed at first a chaotic mass of spots and streaks there 
emerged into distinct form the shape of a human figure floating 
in a cloudy sky. It was not only a perfectly definite but a 
beautiful, manly form which rewarded the earnest gaze of the 
artist, who now had become quite wide awake and deeply inter- 
ested. He made a sketch of his new discovery, and 
he named him, fancifully, " The Genius of the Font." 





690 



THE PA u LIST COLONY. 



[Feb., 




AT THE PURGATORIAN ALTAR THE SOULS OF THE FAITHFUL DEPARTED 
ARE ESPECIALLY REMEMBERED. 

Then it occurred to him that it would be a desirable thing to 
have a photograph of this strange freak of the marble ; other- 
wise people would say his sketch was merely an artist's fancy. 
So he rose and looked about for some one in authority in the 
church, for he felt that etiquette demanded that he should ask 
permission to set up a secular camera in a sacred place. 

He waited until the dusting-woman drifted toward the side 
aisle and then he roused her to animation by asking where he 
might find the sexton. 

The woman looked at him with a sympathetic expression, and 
throwing into her voice what no doubt she considered a lugu- 
briousness proper to the occasion, said : 

" It will he at his office you'll find him, sorr ! " 



1 899.] 



THE PA u LIST COLONY. 



691 



" And where may 
that be ? " the artist 
inquired still further. 
" It's the under- 
taking establishment 
you'll be wanting ?" 
she asked doubtfully, 
seeing her question- 
er's inappropriately 
cheerful air. 

"Oh, dear, no!" 
he replied. " I only 
want leave from the 
sexton to take a 
photograph in the 
church." 

She laughed, but 
a mild contempt for 
his ignorance was 
observable in her 
manner. It appear- 
ed that the person 
he really wanted was 
the sacristan, but 
that he did not know 
how to ask for him. 
The dusting-woman 
went, however, and 
produced this latter 
worthy from some 
remote region be- 
hind the high altar. 
He appearing, prov- 
ed most friendly and 
obliging, and was a 
perfect mine of 
wealth in the way of 
information about 
the church in general and the decorations in particular. 

" The Genius of the Font " was pointed out to him. He 

was enthusiastically interested in his discovery. It appeared 

that the figure had never been observed before, but the sacristan 

received him hospitably as a member of the colony already resid- 

VOL. LXVIII. 44 




THE UNHAPPY CAPTIVE IN THE PILLAR is EMBALMED 
IN THE MARBLE, DOING PENANCE. 




THE 

UNHAPPY 
CAPTIVE. 



692 



THE PAULIST COLONY. 



[Feb., 



ing in the building, and, fired with a praiseworthy desire to do the 
honors of the church, he proposed to introduce our artist to 
"The Little Sister" and "The Unhappy Captive." The home 
of these latter being inside the chancel rails, the artist might 
otherwise never have met them ; but now that he was presented 

in due form, he lin- 
gered some time 
contemplating them r 
and being on the 
alert for discovery, 
he descried two ad- 
ditional figures : " A 
Courtier of the Reign 
of Henry of Na- 
varre " and a fierce- 
looking " Dragon," 
both behind the 
" Little Sister." But 
as the " Little Sis- 
ter" cannot turn 
around to look at 
them she does not 
know they are there 
in such close proxi- 
mity to her, and fear- 
ing neither man of 
the world nor de- 
mon, she stands 
serene with folded 
hands and smiles a 
benediction down 
upon priest and peo- 
ple who come to 
worship before the 
high altar. 

Although a 
prompt and cheer- 
ful permission was 
readily granted him 
to make the photo- 
graphs, it was not un- 
til some days later that the artist succeeded in securing them. A 
rainy spell following upon the intense hot weather hid the sun 




AT THE FOOT OF THE GREAT CRUCIFIX IS ONE OF THE 
MOST DEVOTIONAL SPOTS IN THE CHURCH. 



1899-] THE PAULIST COLONY. 693 

from sight, and so it was with a flash-light that the work had to 
be done. Hence but imperfect justice was done the beauty of the 
" Genius " as well as the other members of the colony. Still, 
one can make out that the " Genius " has his back to the 
spectator with his head partly turned in the direction of the 
camera, showing a charming curve of cheek and delightful 
convolutions of an ear. His form is innocent of drapery and 
he is floating on the clouds of a sunset sky. One foot is 
drawn up so that the sole is presented to you ; his foreshortened 
legs are otherwise a little vague in outline. He has a fine head, 
round and firmly modelled, with short, smooth, dark hair. The 
muscles of his neck stand out strongly and the torso has the 
contours of a young athlete. In the marble the planes of the 
shoulders and the rounding of the muscles are beautifully dis- 
tinct and life-like. 

To an artist there is a peculiar charm in a well-modelled 
masculine back. It is easy to understand the satisfaction 
Michael Angelo took in letting his hands wander over the 
"Torso of the Belvedere" when, in his old age, his failing 
eyes forbade him to look upon its beauty. The " Dying Gaul " 
in the Capitoline Museum at Rome has so perfect a back, the 
yellow marble clothing as with an ivory satin skin the magnifi- 
cent structure forms beneath, one is filled with a strong desire 
to smooth it with one's hands. Mere looking does not seem 
to take in enough of the perfections of that master-piece. 

The marble slab or panel which contains the figure of the 
Genius of the Font is about six feet high, and is perfectly flat 
and highly polished, like the rest of the marble used in the 
wainscoting. No relief lends its shadows to help the illusion. 
The clouds on which the figure is upborne are simply red and 
white spots and streaks in the marble, all entirely natural. 
The idea of sky is further carried out by the wainscoting at 
the side of the panel in question. This is full of long white 
lines streaming back from nuclei giving a meteoric effect, and 
star-shaped splashes crowd together to form a Milky Way, or set 
apart resemble constellations. 

The christening chapel as well as the high altar in design 
are excellent, well proportioned, and the latter very imposing. 
Over the tabernacle where the Host is kept is a little dome- 
like canopy supported by four small columns of Mexican onyx. 
On the front pillar at the right is the " Little Sister." She is 
only another strange freak of the onyx, this figure of a nun, 
but she is quite as well drawn as if a human artist had de- 



694 IHE PAULIST COLONY. [Feb., 

lineated her. On her head is a bonnet from which a long, 
white veil flows down over her shoulders. A round, white cape 
extends from her throat half way down to her waist, and her 
white hands, emerging from the large, dark sleeves of her habit, 
are placidly folded. Her dignity is impressive. You feel the 
Little Sister to be a lady, every inch of her, though those 
inches be only about twelve in number. Her features are not 
very distinct, as the light is dim in the chancel, but it seems 
suitable that she should spend her days in a religious twilight. 
She is La Penserosa, that 

" Passive nun, devout and pure, 
Sober, steadfast, and demure, 
All in a robe of darkest grain 
Flowing with majestic train. 
Thy looks communing with the skies, 
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes 
There, held in holy passion still, 
Forget thyself to marble. . . ." 

When the photographer's magnesium light flashed upon the 
quiet little form upon the pillar one could almost see her shrink 
back from the vandal thus invading the privacy of a recluse, but 
the vandal was not without some reverent thoughts as he 
watched the cloud of smoke from the flash-light lingering lov- 
ingly, like an aureole, above the head of the little nun. 

Dear little soul ! one feels quite a sympathy for her. One 
wonders whether she is ever frightened at night when the great 
empty church is given over to silence and total darkness reigns 
save for the tiny lamps which never go out, held by the angels 
who encircle the huge bronze hanging lamp in the chancel. 

The " Unhappy Captive " might perhaps be some company 
for her, only that he seems to be plunged in such profound 
mental gloom one cannot fancy his being much of a comfort 
to anybody who is afraid in the dark. 

He stands not far off on his own private pillar, the left 
one at the back on the St. Joseph altar in the right aisle chan- 
cel. He is a man of marble, quite as unintentional as the 
Genius or the Little Sister. 

He is about eight feet tall, a sort of overgrown boy, and he 
stands with head bent sorrowfully forward, his dishevelled hair 
hanging over his cheeks as though he had not spirits enough 
to keep himself tidy. The general anatomy of his body is a 



1 8 9 9-] 



THE PAULIST COLONY. 



695 




FROM THE RIGHT-HAND PILLAR ABOVE THE TABERNACLE " THE LITTLE SISTER" 
SMILES A BENEDICTION ON PRIEST AND PEOPLE. 

trifle uncertain, as though he had been considerably damaged 
in battle before being taken captive, but his head and feet and 
legs are in drawing and perfectly distinct. 

The " Dragon " is on a column at the back of the high 
altar. His mouth is open and he seems to be longing for the 
gore of the " Courtier of the Reign of Henry of Navarre," who 
leans against a wall in peaceful reverie. Both these figures are 
small and hard to get at with a camera. 




696 



THE PAULIST COLONY. 



[Feb., 



Perhaps in time further exploration, aided by a little fancy, 
may reveal other residents of the Paulist Church ; residents at- 
tached to the building in both senses. The decoration is still 
going on, will probably not be completed for many years, and 
where marble is there is always a chance for the discovery of 
strange and lovely forms. One need be neither an artist nor 
a poet to appreciate the beauties of the Paulist Church, but 
whatever time may be spent in studying them will amply repay 
the student. Their interest will be felt by every lover of 
beauty. 




ST. CATHARINE OF GENOA BY HER PRAYERS is 

RELEASING SOULS FROM PURGATORY. 




1899-] "Nor OF THIS FOLD" 697 



'NOT OF THIS FOLD." 

BY ELEANOR C. DONNELLY. 
And other sheep I have that are not of this fold.' 1 ' 1 JOHN x. 16. 

ER face is like a lily touched 

With rosy ray of early dawn, 
When all earth's weary noise is hush'd, 

And all night's dreary shades are gone. 
She is so near, she is so dear, 

I call her sister, sweetheart, friend ; 
And when I worship, angels hear 

In words, like these, my prayers ascend : 
Open, O Lord ! her eyes to see 
The perfect Light of Truth, that she 
May enter through Thy Church to Thee ! 

So honest is her soul, and fair, 

I marvel that its crystal shrine 
Should not let in the splendors rare 

Of everlasting Truth divine! 
Yet this I know whene'er that light 

Shall turn her darkness into day, 
'Twill meet a welcome brave as bright ; 
And so, with trust, I plead and pray : 
Open, O Lord ! her eyes, that s/ie 
The perfect Light of Truth may see 
And, through Thy Church, draw close to Thee'J 

Master, who fain, on Peter's Rock, 

Wouldst house all sheep that, hapless, roam, 
Look on this lamb, not of his flock, 

And draw her swiftly, safely home ! 
Home to Thy Fold the wand'rers' rest y 

Good Shepherd of the sheep astray ! 
Until she wins that haven blest, 
My soul shall never cease to pray : 
Open, O Lord! her eyes to see 
The perfect Light of Truth, that 
May, in Thy Church, abide in Thee ! 





The Triumph of Failure, by the Rev. P. A. Shee- 
han,* is a sequel to Geoffrey Austin, Student, and 
opens with a chapter which bears the heading "A 
Mental Audit," and presents a suburban terrace 
of Dublin city with the exactness of a photo- 
graph, and leads you into a house of rather pretentious ap- 
pearance with the confidence of a friend of the family. 
Though the house is detached and stands in its " grounds " 
likely a rood in extent, be the same more or less there is a 
placard in a window ; " Furnished apartments to let " is the in- 
scription upon it, and accordingly there is disillusionment. 
Gentility is all right, but reduced gentility taking, well, flesh 
and blood in a lady who lets lodging is quite another matter. 
If you belong to the old world of London or Dublin, you at 
once think of a pale-faced woman with a chronic cold in the 
head and a lump of pocket handkerchief in her hand. She is 
not here exactly we mean in the book but she of the book 
has the leading characteristics of the variety called genteel 
lodging-house keeper, just as Mrs. Bardell belongs to another 
variety that are set down as respectable merely. How many 
varieties there are in the island of Barataria ! from the lady who 
entertains a guest (paying guest) down to the " woman " who 
lets lodgings to single " men." You know, on the authority of 
Sergeant Buzfuz, that Mrs. Bardell's dead exciseman had been 
once a single " gentleman," but the learned counsel gave him 
brevet rank for the purposes of the trial, for his wife could 
only be " respectable," as she did not belong to the genteel. 

Austin takes the lodgings and becomes acquainted with the 
landlady, a widow of course, and her daughter. The portrait 
in oil of a military gentleman in the dining-room proved that 
the widow belonged to the army. However, some flashes of bad 
English caused him to think the colonel or captain was a myth 
arid the lady an audacious suborner of testimony. He took tea 

* London : Burns & Gates ; New York : Benziger Brothers. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 699 

with mother and daughter one evening we do not think the 
scene an absolute success, but it passes the time well. The 
ladies are pretentious, conceited, not over honest in principle 
in fact, what Irish people call compromisers but Austin acts 
rather like a pedant. A little time passes ; it is necessary to 
look out for a situation ; he goes to a commercial house to look 
for one, and is treated with a brutal insolence which maddens him. 

He takes to harder reading than ever to escape from him- 
self, and so we have, under the title " Amongst the Olym- 
pians," a chapter of superb power. We do not remember any- 
thing exactly like it, and for itself alone we could recommend the 
book. Now the ancient philosophies were dashed like cockle- 
shells against the rocks of pride, passion, and despair ; and Aus- 
tin takes to new philosophy, Kant and the Germans, to find con- 
solation. There is the distraction of hard-reading headache in the 
decasyllabics of the Critique of Pure Reason, but no other ad- 
vantage. He takes up the Critique of Practical Reason and finds 
God ! That is to say, after intense application spent on the in- 
volutions and circumlocutions of the old philosopher of Konigs- 
berg, he at length finds what he had at the beginning of his 
penny catechism when a little child, what the servant maid 
had a full realization of when she so pathetically begged him 
to go to Father Benedict, her confessor, for comfort to his 
aching heart. The ignorant little housemaid and Kant are 
at one. 

We have leaves from the Diary of Hugh Bellamy shown in 
confidence to Austin. Very sad and sweet reading, these 
thoughts of a ruined life, jotted down as the curtain was 
being drawn which shuts out eternity from living eyes. " How 
lonely and solemn is this evening here by the sea ! Nature 
has its fingers on its lips, musing." This is only a specimen 
of the liquid softness of the language in which the thought 
reposes as an enchanted princess on her couch, asleep but with 
parted, breathing lips and half-closed eyes as if awaking. We 
have one queer entry in the poor dying consumptive's diary 
under date Lourdes, August ii: "Two Irish ladies, connected 
with high officials, very solicitous until they discovered I was 
Irish, when they dropped me." 

Another note under date i$th, our Lady's Assumption : 
"What profound philosophers our Catholic religious are ! They 
give up nothing to gain everything." Under date i/th there 
is some fine ranting, with that ring of conviction which is bet- 
ter than genius arrayed in dogmatic propositions: "Ay, Christ 



700 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb., 

is not dead, but liveth in those Christ-like men. Where have I 
seen this thought ? You, Kant, where are your children who 
call themselves by your name, preach your doctrines, follow in 
practice your life ? You, Fichte, Schelling, Spinoza, whose 
schemes and systems come up, angry and impotent, mounting 
over and levelling each other like waves of an angry sea, and 
breaking in vapor on the sands of time where are your fol- 
lowers, your disciples who would swear by your doctrines and 
give their lives for their truth? But the gentle Christ, what 
awful power He exercises as the magnetism of His example 
and the magic of His words stretch down along the centuries 
and fill to-day the world's convents as they filled the lauras of 
Nitria a hundred years after His death." We could take pas- 
sages at random which possess the force of a strong conviction 
and are as eloquent as any cited because of it. It is refresh- 
ing to listen to this calm and concentrated passion of belief, 
almost scornful in the strength with which it pushes aside the 
haughty sophisms of the so-called wise. We leave the Diary. 

How good is Miss Oliver, the landlady's daughter, who apol- 
ogizes for having been educated in a convent instead of a 
Protestant academy ! Her ancestors were Huguenots who fled 
from France " at the promulgation of that dreadful edict of 
Nongz " immense inflection on the word. 

A little tragedy in her life comes in by way of tableaux vivants. 
We have seen something like this method of presentation, a 
device of art not always to be resorted to, because likely to 
become ludicrous in any but strong and delicate hands. Father 
Sheehan's figures, even the supers, are living. On her marriage 
the landlady's daughter becomes a woman of fashion and puts 
away whatever conscience has been developed in the convent, 
where she was treated much better than she deserved. Great 
changes take place some startling ; and Charlie Travers is pro- 
jected on the scene, a social reformer of intellect, energy, and 
solid, collected self-negation, not like the thing of moods and 
whims and inconsistencies bundled together under the name 
or label John Storm, in the novel The Christian. 

We recognize uncommon power throughout this work. If 
Father Sheehan, instead of being a priest in a country district 
of Ireland, had brought his talents to the London market ; if, 
instead of adhering to the dictates of a high and authoritative 
morality, he bowed before the shrine of a heartless expediency, 
he would take a place with the foremost writers of fiction in 
our time. 






1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 701 

The Secret of Fougereuse* is a tale of the fifteenth century 
in the time of Rene, King of Jerusalem, that king so well 
known to English readers as the royal pauper who could not 
provide even apparel for his daughter on her marriage with 
Henry VI. The scene is chiefly in Anjou and partly in Pro- 
vence. Ren, sovereign duke and sovereign count as well as 
king over many lands, would have been a powerful prince if 
shadow were identical with substance. He is well portrayed in 
the book, and in truth does not deserve the contempt enter- 
tained for him by contemporaneous princes and by Englishmen 
who in some strange manner make him responsible for the 
calamities of their country during the Wars of the Roses. We 
do not know how far this work is a translation or an adaptation, 
but treating it as the former we think the original writer has 
completely failed in what might have been in other hands a 
scene of striking interest and power the trial of Sir Guy Fou- 
gereuse. Sir Guy is a character conceived and drawn with great 
force. In the events preceding the trial we have proof of this, 
but in those which follow, in which the revelation of the secret 
is the chief incident, the author rises to a height of intense 
passion and dignity not to be surpassed. The villain is a pal- 
try, inconsistent intriguer intended to be a master-piece, but 
wearisome through his shallow cynicism and artificial wit. There 
is a healthy tone throughout the book ; we can recommend it 
not alone on that score but on account of the ability displayed 
in it. The trial scene, perhaps, is judged too severely because 
we had in our mind the immeasurably superior handling of the 
similar scene in Ivanhoe. Scott preserved the dignity of his 
court ; the author before us does not. Scott had his eye on 
the rules of evidence ; they are in this work only honored in 
the breach. 

A handy volume, called The Sacred Heart,\ is described as 
" incidents showing how those who honor the Sacred Heart are 
assisted by its power and love," and with the incidents the book 
contains the life of Blessed Margaret Mary and that of her direc- 
tor, the venerable Father de la Colombiere. The author is the 
Rev. Joseph A. Keller, D.D., and the translator appears on the 
title-page as author of Angeli Dei and other works. The lives of 
Blessed Margaret Mary and Father de la Colombiere are pre- 
sented as an introduction to the incidents; and very suitably 

* The Secret of Fougereuse. From the French by Louise Imogen Guiney. Boston : 
Marlier, Callanan & Co. 

t London : R. & T. Washbourne ; New York : Benziger Brothers. 



702 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb., 

indeed, for the nun to whom such unspeakable graces were 
vouchsafed had as her director this man so evidently singled 
out for the office by the Lord himself, that both penitent and 
confessor must be for ever associated with the Devotion to the 
Sacred Heart. 

An interesting recollection to English Catholics is that the 
first petition to the Holy See for the establishment of the 
Feast of the Sacred Heart was sent from St. James' Palace. 
Father de la Colombiere was chaplain of Mary of Modena, wife 
of James II., and we have in this circumstance another proof 
of the fidelity of the royal and unfortunate couple to Holy 
Church and of their Catholic insight. A very inspiring narra- 
tive is that entitled " A Page from Tyrolese History." The coun- 
try was dedicated to the Sacred Heart when the star of the 
French Revolution was at its highest. The loyalty of the peo- 
ple to the Catholic principles of government and the duty of 
the governed to rulers is remarkable in our time ; and conspi- 
cuously so when one reflects on the great trials to which that 
loyalty has been subjected since 1796 to the present hour. It 
is a manifest effect of the power of the Sacred Heart in guard- 
ing the purity of a people's conscience ; indeed it is, perhaps, 
the only instance in the world of a national conscience as dis- 
tinguished from a national opinion, which is so commonly called 
the conscience of a people. Instances are given of the power 
and love of the Sacred Heart in different countries and in every 
condition of life in caring for its clients which ought to make 
the book a help in extending the devotion. 

Every aid should be welcomed. For that devotion would 
appear to be the one great power to cope with the spirit of 
the age when among the other evils born of it we find as the 
Holy Father has pointed out the poor and working classes 
seduced by a turbulent discontent, men without true principles 
agitating society, temptations on all sides against faith, purity, 
and the love of the church ; all the evils, one may say in a 
word, which prevailed when the Sacred Heart revealed itself to 
the Blessed Margaret Mary. Books of this kind should be in 
every home. 

Cardinal Lavigerie, by Rev. J. G. Beane,* adapted from the 
French, is the life of a great man. In his boyhood, when at 
St. Nicholas' Seminary at Paris, Charles Lavigerie underwent 
a trial which might have destroyed his future. His first 

*St. Joseph's Seminary for the Colored Missions, Baltimore, Md. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 703 

months there were a prison-life as it were, in the black and 
gloomy house, so soon after the river, the hills, the landscape 
of his native place. He became sad and morose, though his 
fellow-students were gay and amiable, and Father Dupanloup, 
the master, kind and considerate. This was the man who in 
after years was so well known as the Bishop of Orleans, the 
champion of the church and of the honor of France. Only for his 
penetration young Lavigerie would have been a mediocre student. 
He saw the boy's gifts, an enthusiastic soul clouded by home-sick- 
ness, the hunger of the heart for native scenes, and the invisible 
barriers which sometimes construct themselves round the stranger 
among companions not congenial to him. 

Father Dupanloup took him in hand, and after his death the 
pupil wrote with keen appreciation of that great prelate's 
kindness and control: "Amid the darkness I saw another sun 
gradually arise which warmed my soul and awakened it from 
its deathly torpor. . . . If he wished to have all, it was that 
he might give all to Jesus Christ according to the divine plan 
of St. Paul : ' All things are for you, and you are for Christ.' " 
This last was in reference to an opinion that Monseigneur 
Dupanloup was egotistic and ambitious ; and we must say, after 
learning that such an opinion existed, the less people care for 
what is thought about them the better. There is no such thing 
as justice. 

But let that pass. Lavigerie became a brilliant student, and 
in time professor of literature at the Sorbonne ; and obtained 
such recognition from the organ of the Jansenists as the follow- 
ing : " How is it possible that the entire Sorbonne can adhere 
to a young priest who was unknown yesterday, and who wishes 
to demolish the old Gallican traditions, to rear on the smoking 
ruins the undefined dogma of the Papal Infallibility ? " It is to 
be observed this passage was written in the Catholic Observer, 
the journal spoken of sixteen years before the definition. 

He had a great career, in accomplishing which energy of 
will was the pre-eminent quality. He commanded his subor- 
dinates, he alone knew his own motives ; therefore there was 
no ground for discussion. He was equal to any sacrifice, any 
demand at the call of duty. He could become an abject 
beggar-man to promote education in the East ; as Primate of 
Africa he would brook no opposition from the secular authority. 
It was no wonder that the news of his death cast a gloom over 
the Catholic world. We want such men, heroes of humanity, 
not heroes of the Carlylean* hero-worship stamp. They save 



704 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb., 

the race from the dry rot of selfishness. The public funeral 
with which France expressed her homage to the friend of the 
slave proves that there are moments when charity is stronger 
than ambition in a people. Such moments afford the hope that 
the labor of a just life has not been given in vain when it 
wins reverence in spite of the policy of rulers. 

The author of A Klondike Picnic * calls this work the Story of 
a Day. The sub-title is suggestive of events brought rapidly 
together and terminating pleasantly. You will hardly think of 
that far-off region of desperate adventure and fortunes to be 
made by it, as men staked their last " thou " in Monte 
Carlo or Baden of the past staked it to retrieve the many 
thousands lost. You are curious to know what gay things are 
to be done in a day, and why they should happen at Klon- 
dike. There surely reigns the cursed thirst for gold, that " auri 
sacra fames " which must have been so potent a couple of 
thousand years ago when that insouciant little gentleman 
Horace could so talk of its effect, that passion which devours 
all other things. 

The book opens : " It is a lovely morning in mid-May "; 
" the sky is as blue as our Blessed Lady's cloak," and then 
you have " the broad, dimpling ocean," ^Eschylus' innumerable 
laughters of the sea ; so really it strikes you that this is a 
Klondike in fairy-land and not amid snows and savage cliffs, to 
be attempted only by men urged by the yellow hunger. 

The explanation is, that a very pleasant family and some 
friends start a picnic to a little rocky island near where they 
live, and which one of the boys had called Klondike " because 
it's full of rocks, don't you see ? " In the island there is youth- 
ful fun, innocent, fresh, unalloyed, almost in a sense Grecian 
from the effects of sun, sky, atmosphere, and sea that is in the 
sense so nobly human, but higher than the Greek of the young 
world because of a spirit in the lads and girls that came from a 
source diviner than the influences which made the Greek. They 
are not wreathing a flowery band to bind them to the earth, as 
he did. To them all things of beauty are joys, but not for ever, 
unless indeed those conceptions of a world beyond that in 
which the Greek placed " the grandeur of the dooms " he had 
imagined for the mighty dead. We have been so carried off by 
the brightness of scene, the spontaneity of the mirth, the 
gladness so untouched by aught of sorrow, that we yielded 

* A Klondike Picnic. By Eleanor C. Donnelly. New York : Benziger Brothers. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 705 

ourselves to dreams of a time more than three thousand years 
ago when there was an age of gold, but not in the Klondike 
sense. 

Among the bits of entertainment are letters from the real 
Klondike, that mountain-land where the gold is guarded by 
powers not more easily overcome than the giants of fairy-tale 
or the gnomes who only yielded to strong spells letters written 
by relatives of the picnickers and to these are added passages 
from published articles describing the scenes and something of 
the life of those wild regions. Another feature is that of " ori- 
ginal poetry" by the daughters of the family it is wonderful for 
school-girls so that we have a most enjoyable flight to Klondike, 
a rest there without disadvantageous conditions and a close 
to the day and its events which comes like a flash of lightning. 
This crowns the work. We shall hot tell the end no ; wild 
horses would not draw the secret from us but we suggest to 
Miss Donnelly that she might make the fact told in the tele- 
gram the foundation of a story interesting as Monte Christo, 
or at the very least as successful as the best of Lever's novels, 
"The Irish Gil Bias." 

Miss Erin, by M. E. Francis.* Mrs. Frances Blundell, nte 
Francis, gives us an interesting story of Irish life ; we can say 
no less, but somehow the author seems to have taken her im- 
pressions from books, and made them still more remote from 
the real conditions of life in the alembic of her fancy. The 
unfolding of Miss Erin's character from her childhood on to 
the end, which is a befitting one when a lady is not called "to 
religion," is worked out with genuine power. The aged priest 
is typical enough and we like him, but the family in which 
Erin was fostered is stagey we mean like the stage-Irishman, a 
being that never existed anywhere but on the boards so is 
the uncle. In his case there is the suggestion of reality now and 
then, but it vanishes into unreality. One touch of truth is the 
anger with which he hears the name Erin, by which the poor 
outcast baby of his brother was called. The latter was a 
'48 man one of those Irish Girondists so simple in their stain- 
less purity. It would be like that spirit-touch which tipped 
young Meagher's tongue with fire and which lent such moods of 
light and shadow to his soul that we look upon him as a better 
Alcibiades, the spirit which passed with the fulness of the pas- 
sion of genius into Davis, the greatest of them all, and which 

* New York : Benziger Brothers. 



706 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb., 

softened into chivalry the haughty justice of O'Brien like it, 
to give the poor exile such enthusiasm he was one of these, 
and we do not wonder at the selection of the name when we 
look at all the circumstances. Broken down in health, dying by 
the Pacific, Erin would be more than all else to the exile 
hence the name for the infant ; so in the pathos of the thing the 
ludicrous disappears. But the brother to whom the baby was 
sent as "a legacy" by the dying man could not see it in this 
light. He supported the English connection, and regarded Erin's 
father with intense scorn and contempt. He had felt himself 
disgraced by his accession to the Young Irelanders, and now the 
baby with this outlandish name was sought to be thrust upon 
him. That he should indulge in strong language was to be ex- 
pected, we think ; but no Irish gentleman would refuse to take 
the child into his house, would send it away in the hands of the 
stranger who had brought it all the way from San Francisco ; 
would send it into the cold, wet night as if it had no claim upon 
him, though in reality his heir.* The story is well told, but 
we fancy it betrays here and there an imitation of the methods 
which give a sort of character, an individuality to Mr. O'Brien's 
" When we were Boys." She does not always produce the 
effect which attends upon his handling of them. They are his 
own, faulty as they are. Mrs. Blundell will understand what 
we mean when we say we like many of Dickens's peculiarities, 
but when we see them in another we feel as if lynch-law 
were an excellent institution. We say this, because we believe 
she has ability to take high rank among writers of fiction if 
she be true to herself, and we have the proof of her ability in 
the book before us. 

Though assuredly in no carping spirit, we venture a further 
word of comment on contemporary Catholic literature a field 
wherein short-sighted and cruel critics have wrought no small 
harm for it has long seemed to us noteworthy that a certain 
species of literary activity should remain so undeveloped. We 
refer to Catholic essay-writing brief, original treatment of 
subjects similar to the more speculative and serious portions of 
the Religio Poetce. Such work to be satisfactorily performed de- 
mands in the author a well-developed power of analysis, solid 
learning, deep, earnest piety, and some skill in literary compo- 
sition. The subjects must be those vital, deep-lying spiritual 
truths that ramify all through our religious lives ; the gathered 

* Heir is the technical word instead of heiress. 






1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 707 

fruit would show us increased attention on the part of the 
intelligent, cultivated world, and a new development of spiritual 
activity among a class of Catholics who at present receive too 
little training and encouragement. 

We welcome a contribution of the class desired in Father 
Tyrrell's new book.* Nova et Vetera was rather unsatisfactory, 
because so fragmentary and so desultory ; but Hard Sayings 
has gone to our heart. Original, earnest, schooled in the ap- 
proved methods of spiritual training, and still wide awake to 
new thoughts and personal adaptations, the author presents us 
with a series of papers that will gladden many a dull hour, and 
make fruitful many a barren soul. 

Dialectical severity and apparent rationalizing will never be 
charged against the author, we think ; certainly not by any of 
the class who need such books thoughtful, philosophically in- 
clined persons, who have been left strangers to the inner beauty 
and power of those truths that were mental pabulum for sajnts 
innumerable. 

Nothing could be more timely, happy, and effective than the 
essay that serves as the opening. It is the high and all-satis- 
fying ethics of the Catholic Church that are most likely to 
draw converts of the class most desirable men of thoughtful, 
religious nature, unquiet until they have attended to the deep- 
est yearnings of our spiritual constitution. And just such words 
as those of the author on salvation, conscience, sin, suffering, 
eternal life, faith, counsels, and so forth will establish and 
confirm the clear conviction that the Catholic Church knows 
man and holds the key to life's problems. We pray that 
further effort may second and extend the results to be attained 
by Hard Sayings, for its writer makes no mistake if we may 
venture this approval in thinking that true comprehension of 
the church's ethical and spiritual idealsj her conception of hu^ 
man dignity, capacity, and destiny, may often serve most 
effectually to extend faith in her divine origin. 

A mere reading of the chapter-headings tells one that Dr. 
Parsons' latest volume f is very interesting. Church history in 
this century has been made up of a number of movements 
isolated in time and region to a great extent, and the ordin- 
ary manuals do no more than give us clues for hunting up the 

* Hard Sayings : a selection of Meditations and Studies. By George Tyrrell, S.J. New 
York : Longmans, Green Co. 

f Studies in Church History. By Rev. Reuben Parsons, D.D. Vol. V., cent. XIX. 
(Part I.) New York and Cincinnati : Fr. Pustet & Co. 
VOL. LXVIII. 45 



708 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb., 

facts. We have felt the want of some book for the use of 
readers just ready to take interest in the Oxford Movement, 
the Carbonari, the Vatican Council, the Catholic Revival, and 
such like matters matters which, not understood, will leave the 
reader unable to grasp the meaning and importance of almost 
any historical fact or valuable publication in this century. 

As to comment on execution of task, less enthusiasm is 
permissible. Dr. Parsons has never posed as a scientific histor- 
ian of the original and deep-diving sort, and the book presum- 
ably is meant to be an historical summary of various crucial 
epochs. A little more detail and more careful solution of 
complicated situations would be of profit to the unlearned 
reader. Altogether, the book answers a very good purpose, 
and we shall have frequent occasion to recommend it to people 
seeking close acquaintance with recent church history. 

There is just published another volume of the series of The 
Saints* Let us say, from the point of view of a general reader, 
the publishers afford too little information about the series. 
The two-page notice that appeared in Saint Augustine was 
instructive and entertaining, but one might pick up Saint Vin- 
cent de Paul without learning that it was one of a series, and 
a series designed to open up new lines in hagiology. 

The opening volume on Psychology of the Saints was novel 
and augured well for the forthcoming lives. But we are begin- 
ning to think the works will be very uneven and quite variable 
in value. Free from exaggeration they are, it is true, and that 
was one of the promises made ; but they are in no way deep, 
thoughtful, study-exciting. The biographer of St. Vincent de 
Paul, for instance, might produce an enchanting study of the 
sixteenth century's social and religious features, the saint's 
peculiar dealing with them, his special relations to his special 
day, and his claims on nineteenth century sympathy and imita- 
tion. The English editor's preface gives a hint of what might 
be accomplished on this line, but the biography is conceived in 
another spirit. More surprised are we, because the Prince is 
already known for a man of his day, deeply interested in social 
characteristics and revolutions. However, he has given a simple, 
complete, pleasant biography, which is perhaps what he deemed 
most fitting and most needed. 

* St. Vincent de Paul. By Emmanuel de Broglie. Translated by Mildred Partridge, 
with a preface by George Tyrrell, SJ. London : Duckworth & Co. ; New York, Cincinnati, 
and Chicago : Benziger Brothers ; Dublin : M. H. Gill & Son. 



l8 99-l TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 709 

Mr. Hahn shows in a little volume of poems* a devotional 
spirit. The first has the title " The Monk's Prayer " we have 
no hesitation in saying that most of the lines are very graceful 
and rhythmical and the second, which is entitled " After many 
Years," has considerable power, but the thought is weakened 
now and then by a very trying use of epithets. If young peo- 
ple would only understand that poetry does not merely consist 
of scanned lines or counted syllables, an advance in their art 
would be made. We would ask them in all kindness, Do they 
mean to be poets ? If so, they ought to pay their readers the. 
compliment of crediting them with some intelligence. So far 
from words, mere words, translating thought, they often kill it, 
and, on the other hand, if the writer has no thought it is ob- 
taining money under false pretences to sell words instead. In 
our time, when the language is wrought to a perfection that 
has been reached by only one other tongue, a man in order to 
attain excellence must have a mind to some extent elliptical 
or, as we have elsewhere expressed the idea, though with some 
suspicion of a bull, he must think in short-hand. If readers will 
not be satisfied with suggestion nay more, if they are not able 
to discover for themselves the links of connection which the 
poet ignores let them read newspapers and trashy novels. Mr. 
Hahn ought to be more careful than to' allow such a couplet 
as this to go forth to English readers : 

" To wait. Epitome of life 
Are bound up in these words." 



A NEW TRANSLATION OF THE FOUR GOSPELS.f 

Considerable interest has been developed by the announce- 
ment made some time ago that Father Spencer, the Domini- 
can, was preparing a new translation of the Gospels. The in- 
terest was all the keener because among literary folks there 
was quite a decided demand for an improvement on the old 
Rheims version. It was Cardinal Newman who first voiced this 
demand, and would have satisfied it were it not that he learned 
that Archbishop Kenrick, of Baltimore, had begun the same 
work. Archbishop Kenrick's translation, though considered very 

* In Cloisters Dtm. By Charles Curtz Hahn. Omaha : Burkley Printing Company. 

t The Four Gospels. A new translation from the Greek text direct, with reference to the 
Vulgate and ancient Syriac version. By Very Rev. Francis Aloysius Spencer, O.P. Preface 
by his Eminence James Cardinal Gibbons. New York : William H. Young & Co. 



7 io TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Feb. 

accurate from a doctrinal point of view, still was a very great 
disappointment from a literary aspect, and consequently .never 
grew in popular favor. It certainly takes the smoothness of 
carefully chiselled phrases as well as sonorous sentences to win 
a way for any translation to the popular heart. The King 
James version possessed high literary merit, and, in spite of 
mistranslations and errata sufficient to fill a volume, it has been 
well liked. Father Spencer's translation comes, and it has many 
claims to our commendation. Its English is very attractive, and 
while it will have difficulty in crowding aside other versions 
that have been enshrined in the devotional life of Catholics, or 
that have been commended by hierarchical authority, still we 
think its phraseology is very smooth and its literary merit of a 
high order. 

There are so many versions of the Gospels presented to 
Catholic people now that very soon the bishops will be obliged 
to take up the question and select one especially for approba- 
tion. It is an interesting study to compare the Challoner ver- 
sion with the new version lately published by the Benzigers ; 
to note the difference between these two, and then to compare 
them both with Kenrick's bald phrases or Spencer's cultured 
English. Spencer's translation has other qualities which com- 
mend it. It gives us a careful harmony of three " synoptic " 
Gospels ; it has also copious notes, as well as marginal refer- 
ences, pointing out the various versions which are preferred in 
the special translation. These notes also mark the Gospels for 
the various Sundays, and for this reason make the volume an 
interesting and devotional book for the ordinary reader. We 
await with a great deal of interest the kind of a reception this 
volume will get from the literary public. It was very tactful in 
Father Spencer not to pretend to offer a revised version ; had 
he done so he would immediately have let loose a horde of de- 
vouring critics. He simply presents the life of Christ couched 
in elegant phraseology, as a devotional volume, to the Catholic 
public. If its literary merits commend it, it will win its way to 
adoption as a standard translation in the public forum at least. 




THE occupation of the Philippines is going on 
with vigor, if not with wisdom. Very soon the 
government will have as its most difficult problem 
the saving of the islands from the American savages who are 
drifting there, rather than from the oriental savages who are 
living there. 



One thing is certain : if the government allows itself to be 
crowded into an attitude of opposition to the friars, and as a 
consequence an appearance of antagonism to the highest aspira- 
tions of the people in their religious life, it will require a mint 
of money and no end of soldiery to keep the islands in subjec- 
tion. We cannot hope to teach the natives there self-govern- 
ment while at the same time we are considered enemies to 
their religion. 



The commission appointed to supervise Philippine interests 
has no one who can establish a sympathetic relationship with 
the people in their most sacred interest. Not only is this so, 
but Dean C. Worcester, an avowed enemy of the friars and 
one who has defamed them before the American people, has 
secured a position on this commission. 



Extraordinary accounts are coming to European ears of the 
dreadful cruelties which were permitted after the battle of 
Obdurman by the English general, and in some instances com- 
mitted by the English soldiery. Yet it was given out that the 
purpose of the Soudan expedition was " civilizing and Christian- 
izing," but in reality the real reason was to get a firmer hold 
on Egypt and to establish a better security for the interest due 
Egyptian bond-holders. 



The signs of steady growth and normal development mani- 
fested by the movement commonly known as " Missions to 



712 EDITORIAL NOTES. [Feb., 

non-Catholics " indicates that this movement has come to stay. 
The official figures are as follows : Five years ago there was 
not one Catholic priest in the whole United States whose sole 
occupation was the preaching of Catholic doctrine to those who 
were not of the household of faith ; at present there are twenty- 
five priests who make this work their special duty. This posi- 
tive growth is a sure indication that there was a demand for 
the work, and that having been inaugurated, the work is me.et- 
ing with a certain measure of success. 



It is asked, " Are converts made ? " The reports from the 
missionaries in the field, as published in the last number of 
The Missionary, show that even in this initial stage of the 
movement the missions are bearing an adequate fruit in many 
conversions. Cardinal Gibbons some years ago estimated that 
the annual crop of conversions amounted to thirty thousand. 
While this figure is thought by some to be a little bit high, 
because it is based on the number received in the Archdiocese 
of Baltimore, yet if the accurate figures were ascertainable they 
would indicate easily a notable excess during this last year 
over the time, some ten years ago, when the cardinal made his 
statement. Undoubtedly since then the doors of the churches 
have been opened more widely to non-Catholics, the time of 
the clergy has been more and more given to instructing neo- 
phytes, and the attention of the public has been drawn more 
decidedly to the reception of converts. 



1899-] CATHOLICS IN THE ARMY AND THE NAVY. 713 




REV. JOHN P. CHIDWICK, U.S.N. 



CATHOLIC OFFICERS IN THE ARMY AND THE 

NAVY. 



REV. JOHN P. CHIDWICK, U.S.N., CHAPLAIN BATTLE- 
SHIP MAINE. 

THE officers and crew of the ill-fated Maine will ever be 
held in kind memory by the American people. Among the 
officers none seems to have more strongly endeared himself to 
the whole people than the chaplain, Rev. John P. Chidwick. 
Father Chidwick was born on October 23, 1863, in St. Mary's 
parish, New York City. When about seven years of age his 
parents moved to Williamsburg, and his early education, begun 
in New York City, was continued at the parochial school in St. 
Peter and Paul's parish, Williamsburg. A few years later the 



714 CATHOLIC OFFICERS IN [Feb., 

family returned to New York City, and at fourteen years of 
age he was graduated from St. Gabriel's. By request of Brother 
Leontine, John remained another year in the school "to help 
along the class," the good brother said. At the beginning of 
the new year he entered Manhattan College, where, by careful 
attention to detail and earnest perseverance, he was graduated. 
Believing that God had given him a sacred vocation, with 
characteristic obedience to the call of duty he entered St. Jos- 
eph's Seminary, at Troy, N. Y., in September, 1883, an d was 
ordained priest on December 17, 1887. Father Chidwick's first 
assignment was to St. Stephen's parish, New York City, in 
December, 1888. Entering upon his sacred duties with a zeal 
peculiar to himself, he very quickly won his way into the hearts 
of the people. Ever in sympathy with the young, he was placed 
in special charge of them, and it was not long before " Father 
John," as he was familiarly called, was recognized as the parti- 
cular friend of each one. His rebukes tempered with love and 
kindness, his counsels full of kindly sympathy, made him be- 
loved by all. He had charge of the Holy Name Society, and 
the Society of the Sacred Heart for a time. In conjunction 
with Rev. Father Kean of St. James's, Father McCormick of St. 
Veronica's, and Father Parks, chaplain of the U. S. Navy, he 
aided in the establishment and successful development of the 
Reading Room for Catholic seamen in New York City. The 
events leading up to the establishment of this institution were 
peculiar, and the result was his appointment as chaplain in the 
Navy. He had organized the St. Stephen's Young Men's So- 
ciety, and was selected to represent the Young Men's National 
Union in offering their fraternal congratulations to the National 
Total Abstinence Union at the celebration of the Silver Jubilee 
gathering in 1895 in New York. He presented the report of 
the Archdiocesan Union to the National Convention in Albany, 
N. Y., and as a direct result of the report so ably presented he 
was appointed on the committee to furnish Catholic literature 
to the U. S. Army and Navy. The following year he was made 
chairman of the committee, and such was the excellent charac- 
ter of the work accomplished under his guidance that the 
archbishop requested him to assist in the establishment of the 
reading room. There he met with Father Parks, who with his 
patriotic zeal " pushed him into the Navy." 

Though appointed in March, 1895, so loath were the pastor, 
Father Colton, and the people of St. Stephen's to part with 
him that they kept him until September, when the ship was 






1899-] THE ARMY AND THE NAVY. 715 

ready to sail. He was assigned to the battle-ship Maine, going 
on her when she first went into commission in 1895, and was 
on board her, in his room, at the time of her destruction. The 
Maine had nothing of special interest in her service, the cruise 
being confined entirely to home ports. However, a man of 
Father Chidwick's energy, a priest whose heart turned to the 
young, would make for himself a busy life. Twice each week 
he taught a class of apprentices, gave a lecture once a month, 
managed the crew's athletic sports, and always interested him- 
self in their entertainments. Ever mindful of his sacred calling, 
he sought to follow the example of St. Paul and " become all 
things to all men that he might save all." With Mass and ser- 
mon on each Sunday morning, services with sermon for non- 
Catholics on Sunday evening, he endeavored to fulfil the com- 
mand of his Master. 

In numberless ways he endeared himself to the crew. Said 
one of their number: "The chaplain was one of us; everyday 
he spent two hours among us. His genial soul made us look 
each day for his coming." 

The magnificent work done by Father Chidwick on that 
memorable night of the destruction of the Maine the tender- 
ness of his manly heart, the sweet consolation of the priest man 
won for him the highest encomiums of praise from press and 
people. Solicitous for the comfort of others, he forgot his own 
needs that he might offer the comforts of faith and religion to 
those about him. Many tributes to Father Chidwick's devotion, 
nerve, and self-sacrifice were printed at that time, one of which 
we present : 

" The self-sacrifice of Chaplain Chidwick deserves all praise. 
He is at the Machina Wharf, paper and pencil in hand, taking 
notes of the smallest special marks on the bodies as they are 
taken from the water in order to obtain all clues to their iden- 
tification. Since the disaster he has not rested a moment. 
When he is not examining bodies and helping recover others, 
he is consoling the wounded at the hospital." 

The correspondents were a unit in expressing admiration 
for the indefatigable labors of the chaplain, who slept neither 
night nor day that he might lessen the agony of the survivors 
of the crew and the friends of the lost. A despatch to the 
Navy Department; on February 24, from Captain Sigsbee, the 
commander of the Maine, said : " Chaplain Chidwick charged 
with all matters relative to the dead. His conduct is beyond 
praise." The press of the City of New York, in recognition of 



/i6 CATHOLICS J-N THE ARMY AND THE NAVY. [Feb., 

his fidelity and worth, by joint contribution replaced the vest- 
ments lost in the destruction of the battle-ship. 

On his return to this country after the destruction of the 
Maine he was everywhere greeted with marked distinction, but 
nowhere was it more marked than at the celebration of Mass 
at St. Stephen's. There the people with tear-stained faces gave 
thanks to Almighty God for his preservation. He was later 
assigned to duty on the Cincinnati and served on her during 
the war ; he was at the engagements at Matanzas, at Figardo, 
and Porto Rico. While at Ponce, Porto Rico, by association 
with priests and people he did much to dispel the prejudices 
against the Catholic Church in the United States that may 
have existed in the minds of the Porto Ricans. During the 
month of June the Cincinnati was at Norfolk for repairs and 
missed Santiago. At the close of the war he was detached 
from the Cincinnati and ordered home, he having been at sea 
over three years. On January 4 of this year Father Chidwick 
was assigned to duty at the Washington navy-yard. This as- 
signment is regarded in the service as one of special distinction 
and most desirable. 

As a concluding evidence of the affectionate relations ex- 
isting between chaplain and crew, and for a more striking 
illustration of the character of the gallant chaplain, the follow- 
ing tribute paid by Father Chidwick, in an interview with a 
representative of the press, is appended : 

" Never did a clergyman derive greater comfort from his 
flock than that I received from the crew of the late United 
States steamship Maine. I have often heard our officers say 
that they had never sailed with a crew of better men, and 
I firmly believe the statement. They were loyal and brave 
men and attentive to my ministrations. They showed their 
fai^h and obedience to command in the supreme moment of 
our disaster, when the survivors executed our commander's 
orders with promptness and coolness." 



I899-J WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 717 



WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 



THE INDIANS OF THE DIOCESE OF DULUTH. 

THE recent outbreak of the Indians in Northern Minnesota has helped to call 
public attention to two facts : one, the bad treatment to which these " Wards of 
the Nation " are often subjected ; the other, the influence for good exerted by 
the faithful and self-sacrificing Catholic missionaries. 

In various parts of the diocese the Indians have their religious needs sup- 
plied by the Benedictine, Franciscan, and Jesuit fathers. 

These good priests speak and write the Chippewa language, visit the Indian 
missions with all the attendant difficulties of long distances, bad roads, and in- 
clement weather, and have succeeded in forming really good Christian commu- 
nities. 

The Benedictine Sisters, with much devotion, have schools for Indian chil- 
dren at White Earth and Red Lake reservations. 

It has been my good fortune to see those children confided to the care of 
the sisters growing up well instructed in the Christian doctrine, leading pious, 
even holy lives, and not likely to lose in comparison with well-educated while 
people. 

The schools at White Earth and Red Lake have been built by private 
charity. Mother Katherine Drexel has earned the prayers of the Indians, in- 
deed of all lovers of humanity, for her charities in this direction; the children 
educated in these schools are an honor to their teachers and to the founders of 
the schools. 

In the new order of things these same schools, built at great expense and 
well furnished, are soon to be deprived of any government aid, and the children 
are to be sacrificed to the craze for what are called non-sectarian schools. 

Long ago Senator George G. Vest, of Missouri, who made himself thoroughly 
acquainted with the Indian question a man totally unprejudiced declared pub- 
licly " that the only schools that have ever done the Indian any good are those 
conducted by the religious." Though this was wisdom crying aloud in the 
streets, yet the cry was to deaf men, for many would rather see the Indian 
damned than that he should be saved by Catholic influences. 

Sad experience has shown that without a careful religious training the so- 
called educated Indian is worse than when in his savage condition ; both time 
and money are wasted. Some of the children come back to their homes from 
these non-sectarian schools well skilled in sneers at the Catholic religion and its 
practices, loud in their contempt for confession and able to quote Scripture for 
their purpose. Soon enough, though, the usual consequences are at hand : the 
girls become the prey of the impure white man, and the boys the slaves of the 
meanest of all white men the whisky-seller. 

One is reminded very forcibly of our Lord's words to the Scribes and Phari- 
sees : " Woe to you Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, because you go round 
about sea and land to make one proselyte, and when he is made, you make him a 
child of hell two-fold more than yourselves." 



7 i8 



WHA T THE THINKERS SA r. 



[Feb., 



The appended report of the work amongst the Indians tells its own story ; it 
is worth a careful examination. 

It is the fashion now to keep from the public anything that redounds to the 
credit of Catholicity, but to seize with avidity on every scandal and on every 
lie that is half the truth, and to put it in glaring head-lines before the reader. 

I take this opportunity to offer my sincere thanks to the holy and earnest men 
and women missionaries who in the Diocese of Duluth have done such honest 
work for God's glory and the salvation of souls. Their names are not in the 
mouths of men, but are, I hope, written in the Book of Life. 

When the government places the Indians under the management of United 
States officers such as are educated at West Point men free from the taint of 
bigotry and prejudice, men above taking advantage of the weakness and ig- 
norance of these poor people then we shall have some hope for the future Red 
Man. 

Up to this the record has been stained and befouled by much that is mean 
arid dishonorable frequently, too, when the government itself had the very best 
intentions. 

These are the statistics : 



CHIPPEWAS OF THE DIOCESE OF DULUTH, CLASSIFIED RESPECT- 
ING THEIR RELIGION. 



Reservations. 


Catholics. 


Pagan . 


Protestants. Totals. 


r White Earth, . 


. 790 


147 


5 


987 


White Earth, - 


Pembina, 
Rice River, 


540 
. 420 


3 
200 


20 


543 
640 




Pine Point, . 


150 


200 


40 


39 




Twin Lakes, 


. 100 


300 


40 


440 


Red Lake, 


. 


600 


460 


40 


1,100 


Fond du Lac, 


. . 


. 500 


100 





600 


Leech Lake, . 


. 


170 


680 


50 


900 


Mille Lac, . 


. 


20 


580 





600 


Winnibigoshish Lake, . 


25 


175 


-- 


200 


Cass Lake, 




. 


125 


25 


150 


Sandy Lake, 






CQ 





80 


Vermillion Lake, . 


. 60 


J^ 

190 


50 


300 


White Oak Point and Ball Club, 


100 


100 




200 


Grand Marais, 




2 [JO 


16 





286 



Totals, 



3755 3,346 



316 



Totals on White Earth Reservation : 
Catholic, . 

Pagan 

Protestant, 



Total, 



January 12, 1899. 



2,000 
850 
150 

3,000 

t JAMES MCGOLRICK, 
Bishop of Duhith. 



1899] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 719 



THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 

Genius, like sanctity, is commonly more or less foolish in the eyes of the 
world. Its riches are " the riches of secret places" and they much exceed, in its 
sleem, those that are considered riches by the common sense of men. Genius is a 
great disturber. It is always a new thing, and demands of old things that they 
should make a place. COVENTRY PATMORE. 

Very Rev. J. B. Hogan, S.S., D.D., has given in his admirable book on 
Clerical Studies, lately published by Marlier, Callanan Co., Boston, Mass., sug- 
gestive hints and directions for the study of church history that are of great 
value to members of Reading Circles. No doubt the director of each Circle 
could easily borrow a copy of the book from the parish priest, and arrange for 
selections to be read aloud at the meetings. With some few changes the four 
chapters on church history would make an excellent pamphlet for general 
circulation among the educated representatives of the laity, especially those who 
have the good fortune to be enrolled in a Reading Circle. Dr. Hogan is con- 
vinced that the loyal Catholic finds profit in whatever bears upon the church in 
the past as well as in the present. Her history to him is like a family record. 
It is also like the records of the people to which he belongs. And as the name 
of his country means little for the man who knows nothing of her past, whereas 
if her memories be vividly impressed upon his soul, that same name will suffice 
to fire his imagination and strengthen him for the noblest deeds, so the history 
of the church, her glories, her triumphs, the inestimable benefits which the 
world owes her, fills the Christian's heart with a sacred enthusiasm, strengthens 
his faith, and transforms his life into a homage of loyalty and love. 

This is why in so many of the Catholic Reading Circles recently established 
through the country church history is invariably taken up as one of the leading 
subjects of study. The members feel that they owe it to themselves to know as 
much as they can of the past of the great institution to which they are proud to 
belong, and that no other knowledge will be more helpful to raise their minds 
to a higher level and strengthen them in the faith. 

This very fact makes it additionally necessary that the priest should be 
familiar with the principal elements and bearings of the subject. Its growing 
prominence, inside as well as outside the church, among the faithful as well as 
among strangers, exposes him to be appealed to at every turn for a statement of 
principles, or an explanation of facts, or for guidance in the study of special 
periods or events. The life of the priest is more completely identified than any 
other with the life of the church. Her thoughts, her aims, her interests, her 
fluctuating fortunes are his in an especial sense. Her history is for Catholics in 
general, the home of their minds, a sacred memory by which they live in her past, 
as by their personal memory they dwell in their own, and make it an abiding part 
of their being. It is there they find the highest inspirations of religion, the best 
experiences of human life accumulated through ages. The history of the 
church, like the Bible itself, is the record of God's dealings with his people, 
teaching the same lessons and conveying the same comforting assurances. 
" We," wrote the Jewish high-priest (I. Mach. xii.), "need naught else, having 

for our comfort the holy books that are in our hands." 

* * * 

Dr. Reuben Parsons deserves all the encouragement that can be given by 
tha purchase of his recent volumes, containing the results of his extensive his- 



/2o THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Feb., 

torical studies. His volume on the Lies and Errors of History should be 
widely circulated among Reading Circles. 

The History of the Catholic Church, by Dr. H. Brueck, with additions from 
the writings of his Eminence Cardinal Hergenrother, translated by Rev. E. 
Pruente, was approved by the Right Rev. Monsignor James A. Corcoran, S.T.D. 
It is published in two volumes. 

The characterizing merits of this work are clearness, precision, and concise- 
ness. What is aimed at is a compendium which will be reliable, accurate, suc- 
cinct, and yet, by means of the abundant and very valuable references it contains, 
also copious. This the learned author has attained. The result is, he brings be- 
fore us, in a clear, succinct, yet interesting form, the active energy of the Church 
in her missionary work, showing us how she is ever advancing into the darkness of 
error with the torch of truth in her hand, how she is attacked at every step by 
the spirits of evil, and how she fights valiantly the battle of right against wrong, 
of civilization against barbarism ; how, in fine, animated by the irresistible Spirit 
of God, she bears down before her all opposition, and establishes everywhere 
centres of light and spiritual life. It has won these words of praise from the 
Dublin Review : 

". . . Taken altogether, for the practical purpose of a collegiate course, 
the best work of the kind yet placed in the hands of the English-speaking student." 
* * # 

A writer in the Freeman's Journal, H. M. Beadle, has recently called at- 
tention to the great book entitled The History of the German People at the 
close of the Middle Ages, by Johannes Janssen, translated from the German by 
M. A. Mitchell; in two volumes; B. Herder, St. Louis, Mo. 

Thomas Babington Macaulay, one of the most just of English historians of 
the earlier and middle part of this century, said of the Catholic Church that 
" from the time when the barbarians overran the Western Empire to the time 
of the revival of letters, the influence of the Church of Rome had been generally 
favorable to science, to civilization, and to good government. But during the 
last three centuries to stunt the growth of the human mind has been her chief 
object."* 

Many students of history, who imagined they were fair-minded, thought this 
statement was a stretch of the imagination of this gifted man of letters, who 
looked with too much favor on the Church of Rome. However, a closer study 
of history will show that the praise given to the Church in the first sentence 
might have been more generous without being untruthful, and that the censure 
in the last is entirely undeserved. 

Given liberty and order, a people must advance in knowledge and civilization 
for civilization is but the application of knowledge to the affairs of men. 
Under the Roman Empire there could be no liberty, for more than half the 
people were slaves, and the order under the pagan emperors was of that kind 
which suppressed virtue and encouraged vice, and under which there could be no 
advance of the people. The religion of Christ (and there can be no religion of 
Christ worthy the name imagined outside the Church) was necessary to renew 
the minds as well as relieve the estate of men, before there could be good govern- 
ment, liberty, or order among mankind. That the influence of the Catholic 
Church had been favorable "to science, to civilization, and to good government " 
Macaulay bears witness. Had he looked closer into history he might have found 
(though he might not have been courageous enough to tell what he might have 
found) that it was through the religious and moral principles taught by the 
* History of England, vol. i. p. 53, edition by Belford, Clark & Co., Chicago and New York. 






1899-] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 721 

Church that men became freer from sin, and obtained better control of their tem- 
pers and their passions, and acquired a love of God and of their neighbor which 
made good government, order, and liberty possible among men. 

Such was the state of civilization among European peoples when the revi- 
val of letters began. In the beginning of the fourteenth century the making uf 
paper from linen rags was invented, and sufficient material for writing being thus 
afforded, manuscripts began to appear in great numbers. When wood and 
copper engraving was first successfully executed is a matter of some conjecture, 
but in the middle of the fifteenth century books of engravings appeared and 
soon became common among the people. Of course there must have been 
presses upon which these were printed, and printing ink must also have been in- 
vented, or the engravings could not have been printed. The number of people 
who could read had been greatly increased, the increase having been steadily 
maintained for more than a century. Paper, presses, and ink were already in use 
when Gutenberg first cast his movable types, and there were numbers of people 
able and anxious to read the books the new invention put upon the market. 
The time was fully ripe for the human race to begin that career of progress 
which has marked the last 400 years. The new world was discovered, and an 
opening made for the adventurous spirits whose minds had been quickened and 
inspirited by the great inventions of the age to exercise themselves in exploring 
the continent Columbus had given to Europe. 

It is this time which Janssen has described with so much industry and abil- 
ity. He entered upon his task determined to tell the truth about the people he 
was writing about, and to suppress no fact bearing upon his subject that came to 
his knowledge, and he has succeeded so well that a professor of history in one of 
the foremost universities of this country has said that Janssen and Pastor are the 
only authorities students of history now have on the middle ages. The result 
has been that Janssen has given to the world one of the greatest works of the 
age. He presents to his readers a true and correct picture of the times of which 
he writes. He shows, as it were, in a mirror the progress of a great people in 
religion and learning, and the effect these had upon all classes of the people of 
Germany. He shows us the schools, the universities, and the teachers ; the laws 
and the change in the laws that affected both government and people ; the 
growth of manufactures and the thoughts and acts and daily life of those who 
brought them to such perfection, and the organization of the guilds which did so 
much for the working people of that time ; the mines and mineral productions of 
Germany and the life led by the miners ; the revival and growth of commerce, 
and how it, together with agriculture, manufactures, and mining, affected and 
promoted the growth and added to the wealth of the nation. 

He also portrays the beginning and growth of art in Germany, as shown in 
architecture, sculpture, painting, engraving, music, poetry, song, and literature, 
and the effect art had upon the people to soften the rudeness of earlier times, 
reform manners, and create among Germans an interest for other things besides 
war and military glory. 

And greater than all, he tells how religion entered into the daily life of all 
classes of people ; how an increasing love of mankind grew out of that religion, 
how serfdom and the last remnants of slavery were abolished, to be renewed, 
unfortunately, after Luther's revolt, when the liberty of the fifteenth century was 
lost in the despotism of the sixteenth, and the high ideas of honor and character, 
the outgrowth of religion and of liberty as enjoyed under local self-government, 
prevailed among all classes of people. 



722 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Feb., 1899.] 

Janssen has completely and for ever overthrown Macaulay's idea, that the 
chief object of the church for three hundred years has been "to stunt the growth 
of the human mind." The world has advanced in many ways since Macaulay 
wrote. Men now dare not write falsehood, for they know it will be immediately 
exposed. In Macaulay's time historians dared not write the truth in regard to 
Luther's revolt, for they would have been despised and their books unpublished, 
or, if published, left on the shelves of their publishers unread. Facts have vin- 
dicated the Church of God, and however men have failed, it is now known that 
the church has been the greatest and truest friend of the people, of liberty, of 
good government, of order, of science, and of everything that elevates the human 
character and leads mankind to a higher life, even in this world. 

* * * 

In answer to an inquiry it may be stated that the works of Coventry 
Patmore are rather expensive. An edition of The Angel of the House was pub- 
lished by the Cassell Company at small cost in paper covers. Under the title 
Poetry and Pathos of Delight Mrs. Alice Meynell gathered a very choice collec- 
tion of passages from the works of Patmore, which was published by Putnam's 
Sons. In Chicago recently a copy of Patmore 's Unknown Eros was valued at 
$2.60. A bookseller informed a representative of the Columbian Reading Union 
that he had second-hand copies of the following works by Patmore : 

Faithful Forever, 40 cents ; Victories of Love, 60 cents ; Angel of the 
House, two vols., $1.50. 

Students of Dante will rejoice to know that the Clarendon Press has issued 
a dictionary of proper names and notable matters in the works of Dante, pre- 
pared by Paget Toynbee, M.A., Oxford, which is for sale by Henry Froude, of 

New York City. 

* * * 

Philadelphia appears "at its best in the volume prepared by Agnes Repplier, 
published by the Macmillan Company. A notice in the New York Times states 
that the author begins at the beginning and sets forth in a very clear light the 
origin and early composition of Philadelphia, and the much-disputed character 
and deeds of William Penn, of whom on the whole she approves. We get an 
excellent picture of life in the stiff but prosperous Quaker town and its Pennsyl- 
vania outposts, where the Irish immigrants were year by year pushing further 
and further afield, and making more and more trouble for both city and province 
through their zeal and contentiousness. We are given the impression of a 
healthful, thrifty, peaceful, kindly home life, but one lacking joy and stimulus, 
and it is difficult to see what would ever have caused this "arid waste of dull- 
ness" to bloom, had it not opportunely been irrigated by the smiling worldliness 
of Benjamin Franklin. 

Franklin is a godsend to the author, as he was to the subject of her story. 
She recognizes his greatness and ungrudgingly and gladly gives him unlimited 
credit, but she reserves the privilege of slyly poking fun at him and his little 
vanities, and we think the clear-headed philosopher, whose imperturbable com- 
mon sense was his foremost quality, would enjoy reading this part of the book 
far better than many another of his " obituaries." 

And so, step by step, through the alternately depressed and elated decade of 
the Revolution and the riotous years that followed, through the steady growth of 
the rich and peaceful city of markets and manufactures that preceded the Civil 
War, and through the fears and sacrifices of that dread time, we follow the ever- 
advancing, ever-modernizing process of steady old Philadelphia down to recent 
years, and then we are given a picture of the vast and interesting city of to-day. 

Summing it all up, Miss Repplier finds that the debt Philadelphia owes to 
her Quaker colonists is a great one, and that the impress of their strong hands 
still lingers for good. This is the secret of the conservatism at which sister cities 
and many of her own people are wont to make merry. She has" seldom thirsted 
after novelties, "says her chronicler ; her prejudices are ancient, deeply venerated, 
and unconquerable. " It is true that much that is new and much that is bad 
have vulgarized and vitiated the old tranquil life, but something that was given 
to the infant city as she lay cradled between her two rivers remains with her still, 
some legacy of soberness and self-restraint." M. C. M. 




AND HE PRAYED THAT IF IT MIGHT BE, THE HOUR MIGHT PASS 
FROM HIM" (Mark xiv. jj). 



THE 

CATHOLIC WORLD. 

VOL. LXVIII. MARCH, 1899. No. 408. 

ENGLISH ADMINISTRATORS AND THE CEDED 
POSSESSIONS. 

BY REV. GEORGE McDERMOT, C.S.P. 

HE latest bid for an English influence in the new 
possessions of America appears in the Fort- 
nightly Review* In an article in that periodi- 
cal the writer suggests that the English will 
offer to the American government the assis- 
tance of a staff of civil servants to administer 
the affairs of Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Philip- 
pines. He candidly justifies the proposal by ex- 
pressing an opinion of the unfitness of Americans for the duties 
of colonial government proved by the experiment during the 
period of Reconstruction in the South. There were abuses un- 
fortunately at that time, but the experiment was not one of 
colonial government ; consequently it is in no way applicable 
to his argument. We are not complaining of the overweening 
sense of British capacity assumed by him that may be the 
legitimate consequence of an insular education what we are 
rather inclined to regret is the mental subserviency of those 
Americans whose admiration of everything English confirms the 
assumption of superiority. 

The writer of the article referred to makes one observation 
we deem important, though we draw a conclusion different 
from that he would desire. He says that good government in 
the ceded possessions will be the proof that humanity and not 
annexation was the motive of the war with Spain. This will, 
it appears, be secured by handing their administration over to 
subordinates of the Colonial Office that is, to the Colonial Office 

* " American Expansion and the Inheritance of the Race," December. 
Copyright. THE MISSIONARY SOCIETY OF ST. PAUL THE APOSTLE IN THE 

STATE OF NEW YORK. 1898. 
VOL. LXVIII. 46 




724 ENGLISH ADMINISTRA JORS AND [Mar., 

itself. In other words, to Mr. Chamberlain, who is already on 
the road to relegation from public life. We have another view 
of the manner in which good government can be secured for 
the dependencies. But there are some important considerations 
to be expressed before offering it. The subject is full of diffi- 
culty, but a little patience in looking at the circumstances of 
the new possessions, and a little care in applying an experience 
from a really analogous instance, will help to a solution. There 
are some dangers to be pointed out proved by examples some- 
what similar. We beg our readers' attention to the views we 
are about to submit. 

CUBANS AND FILIPINOS NOT SAVAGES. 

We must recognize, to begin with, the difference between 
the place in the eye of nations held by the Spanish possessions 
and a newly discovered country with no inhabitants, or possess- 
ing inhabitants in that scale of life to which the practice of 
international policy refuses rights. A good deal of rudimentary 
and yet incorrect social and anthropological science not bear- 
ing on the issue is imported into the article in the Fortnightly. 
If it has any purpose at all, it is to imply that the inhabitants 
of Cuba and the other lands live in that scale of existence 
which confers no title to justice. Yet the writer asks for good 
government for them as though they were entitled to every- 
thing claimed in right of manhood by the founders of the 
American nation. In the few words we shall offer we purpose 
confining ourselves to the Philippine Islands, because they ad- 
mit of a more direct comparison than the other possessions, 
with an example of progress which antiquity hands down to us, 
while these, at the same time, come so far within the leading 
characteristics as to be covered by the example. 

The question of the Philippines is really international. All 
the writing on the war between America and Spain treated the 
latter's possessions on that basis. 

PUBLIC CONSCIENCE OF A STATE. 

One perceives the difference between the responsibilities of 
an individual for his acts and the obligation of a state to do 
justice to an injured neighbor. If public morality, which is 
really what jurists mean when they speak of public law, could 
be enforced like the municipal law,* then in the external forum 
there would be no difference between personal, political, and 
international morality concerning the things of mine and thine, 

* We use the words in their technical sense. " Public law " is the law of nations, " mu- 
nicipal law " is that of a particular nation. 



1899-] THE CEDED POSSESSIONS. 725 

ours and yours. A state could be then a thief as an individual 
can be. As it is, there is a difference between the conscience 
of the man and what is called the conscience of the state. 
The public conscience is spoken of as if it were a faculty of 
the national soul a real entity and not a metaphor. This mere 
analogy between the action of public opinion and the workings 
of individual conscience is treated as a fact of the moral order 
entailing responsibilities clear and coercive like the decrees of 
the court within us. Of course it is nothing of the kind, but 
it is more than conceivable that such an opinion would be the 
reflex of natural equity as between state and state if there 
were an international tribunal to enforce the dictates of that 
equity. As it is, public opinion is a transitory, perhaps a pas- 
sionate impulse like one of those epidemics of morality which 
rise in England every seven years. It is said that it can be 
manufactured to order, if Mr. Chamberlain has a new sensation 
to advertise, if some other public man has even a good meas- 
ure to bring forward. In a word, nothing short of such a tri- 
bunal as we speak of can make the " public conscience" when 
looking at a neighbor's lands like the individual's when tempt- 
ed by his neighbor's goods. 

We are not assuming that the invasion of Cuba was an un- 
just aggression very far from that. However, we think the 
question of the Maine was allowed to obscure the issue in a man- 
ner which indicates the fever of the American pulse. At the 
same time, under precisely similar circumstances, no European 
power would have acted with as much forbearance. An excuse 
to attack a weaker neighbor has hardly ever been more than a 
colorable one at least when no other considerations had to be 
taken into account, such as an international guarantee for the 
safety of the weaker power or the inconvenience of tempting 
another strong power to imitate the example. The Schleswig- 
Holstein aggression is an instance of the colorable excuse ; the 
Luxembourg and Belgium incident between France and Prus- 
sia bears testimony to the effect of reciprocal jealousy among 
strong powers as an influence to keep the peace. England, to 
do her justice, has not stolen any land in Europe recently she 
only gives up land in Europe now ; but she has supplied 
money to enable others to steal land, and she has appeared 
by her subjects when feeble states were assailed from within 
and without. This she. did in Italy some forty years ago. Then 
she had her " Garibaldian Englishmen " fighting against weak and 
friendly powers right in the teeth of her fraudulent Foreign En- 
listment Acts; just the same as a little later she had her Ala- 



726 ENGLISH ADMINISTRATORS AND [Mar., 

bamas plundering the merchantmen of the United States and 
a few months ago her desperadoes raiding in the Transvaal. 
We must take things as they are ; that is, so long as nations 
are only restrained by regard for their own safety when deal- 
ing with each other, we must allow the influence of other 
considerations than the one of meum and tuum to enter into 
the material for judgment on a question of what on the sur- 
face might be called unjust aggression. 

EXPEDIENCY CREATES DUTY. 

Moreover, when a war has taken place conditions are changed. 
You cannot go back to the status quo ante. Interests have 
arisen that cannot be ignored. The aspect of relations with 
other states is so altered that a reparation to the conquered 
state would open a door to new complications, new dangers. 
If the Philippines were restored to Spain, it would be an injury 
to American citizens, to whom something is due for the sacri- 
fices of the war ; it would be a national crime because it 
would fling the inhabitants into the melting-pot of internecine 
revolutions or throw them on the gambling-table of European 
powers. Whatever may be said of the justice of entering on 
the war, there can be only one view as to the policy of the 
United States in retaining the ceded dominions. If one man 
takes the property of another unjustly he must make all the resti- 
tution in his power. The obligation of a state towards another 
cannot be disposed of in the same off-hand manner in the 
present condition of international interests. We have not heard 
a single argument to support the restoration of Alsace-Lorraine 
to France that was based on justice ; every one was advocated 
on the ground of expediency. We are not making international 
morality, we are interpreting it by the acts of its exponents. 
These constitute what lawyers call the contemporaneous ex- 
position. An individual must be just ; it is upon the whole 
easy to see what justice demands of him. But the claims of 
justice in the individual's case are not always identical with 
those determining the relations between two hostile powers. It 
is difficult to conceive a case in which they would be identical, 
for they are complicated by various considerations ; and as long 
as men will not submit to a supreme arbiter, like the Pope, such 
considerations, whether or not they are part of the constituents 
of justice pure and simple, are allowed a weight in the counsels 
of a successful belligerent. In other words, it is possible to 
look at an individual as bound to strip himself of everything in 
order to repair an injustice ; but a statesman who would pro- 



1899-] THE CEDED POSSESSIONS. 727 

pose the surrender of every advantage obtained in a successful 
war would, by the judgment of his countrymen, be forthwith 
consigned to the political limbo of impracticables. 

THE PHILIPPINES AND GREECE. 

The first circumstance to bear in mind is the position of 
these dependencies. They are links in the chain of universal 
trade, they are necessary stations on the water-way of the 
world. Nothing short of a disturbance shifting the axis of the 
earth to the equator can deprive them of this advantage. This 
statement is the condemnation of Spain, but it is also the 
declaration of the responsibility of America. The place the 
Philippines occupy resembles that which Greece, the adjacent 
islands, and the coast of Asia Minor bore with regard to each 
other at the dawn of Greek civilization and adventure. The 
climate of the islands is upon the whole like that of those early 
settlements of commercial activity, policy, and genius. It will be 
said, " Here the likeness ends " ; the Greeks were the most gifted 
race and they sprang from one stock ; the composite origin 
of the Filipinos offers only types of a humanity presenting 
descending degrees of degradation. This is the view which had 
been held out in England when that disinterested power was 
prepared to embark upon the labor of civilizing them. We have 
reason to think " from information received," as detectives be- 
gin their evidence, that the inhabitants of those islands are capable 
of the highest civilization if the ideas and example of the West 
are brought in contact with their lives. Not all the inhabitants 
stand upon an equal footing with regard to the amenities. 
There are groups or parts of groups standing in primitive con- 
ditions. It has to be proved that these are beyond the reach 
of high moral influences. We have unsocial elements in the 
great cities of the United States ; yet this country is compared 
to Rome in what is so absurdly called its over-civilization. 
What French and English critics mean when they make this 
comparison is that in certain classes of Americans a languid 
affectation, resulting from over-refinement, is observable similar 
to that one reads of in the Rome of the emperors. Even at 
the risk of digressing, we distinctly deny the competence of 
those critics to pronounce any such comparison ; and we do 
so because there is no evidence of such epicurean weariness 
until the fourth and fifth centuries. Now, that is a period of 
social history of which our critics are ignorant. No ; the fine 
gentleman of the first and second century could be a great 
lawyer, soldier, or statesman, even though he lisped over the 



728 ENGLISH ADMINISTRATORS AND [Mar., 

hand of Chloe or scratched his head with one ringer while 
some orator was rolling forth the monotone of his periods. 
The jaded American of society carries in his brain the figures 
of a speculation in its own way as important to the country 
as a war or a treaty. But the point is, that in this country, 
which, in spite of them, the most advanced nations of Europe 
look upon as at the top of civilization, there are to be 
found the lawless of both sexes, whose presence is a blot a 
blot ! nay, a shame to humanity, a warning, an evil omen to 
the society which has no thought for them. We can see similar 
inequalities everywhere. It is not so very long since Bavaria 
was another name for stupidity, Prussia the synonym of coarse 
brutality ; less than a generation ago enlightened Scotland had 
her cave-dwellers, and in large districts of England there was 
no idea of domestic purity, no knowledge of a God higher than 
the fetich of some African rite. Therefore, we do not think 
that the different degrees of advancement among the Filipinos 
present an insurmountable obstacle to well-directed efforts to 
bring to pass social homogeneity among them when we find 
the success of similar efforts elsewhere. 

POSSIBILITIES OF CIVILIZATION. 

However, an instance more directly in point than the ex- 
amples just cited is that already referred to of Greece and 
what are commonly called the Greek colonies. In addition to 
the capacity of the Filipinos to take from their surroundings 
the impulses which lead to progress, there is the advantage of 
an external agency of the highest value if employed with due 
caution we mean the contact of American activity. The 
vexed question as to how far an influence from outside is 
needed to elevate a race need not be discussed in view of this 
experiment. This force has been present since the sixteenth 
century, and will in a more modern form be active in the 
future. The contact of a high civilization with an inferior one 
using the term civilization in its complicated modern sense- 
would be a disaster if not restrained by a careful and sympa- 
thetic intelligence. If there were no such restraint, then since 
there are groups among the native population of the islands 
who are still in a savage state, and as these know the existence 
of customs and opinions alien to their own, but in a way 
recommended as the usages and judgments of a more favored 
people than themselves, their fate would be that of the Ameri- 
can Indians, of the Maories, of inferior races of ancient times 
they would die by contact with civilized men. They were pre- 



1899-] THE CEDED POSSESSIONS. 729 

served because the civilization of the converted natives had not 
turned the latter into Assyrian destroyers, English merchant- 
adventurers or riflemen as in America, into English settlers like 
those of New Zealand, who made peace there by exterminat- 
ing the inhabitants. The suggestion put forward, we think 
by Mr. Stead, is no explanation of the phenomenon, that the 
semi-civilization of the Christian natives brought them within 
the domain of savage customs, and consequently of savage 
sympathies. Take a case to-day : where is the sympathy 
the semi-civilized Arab evinces for the black man in Central 
Africa ? Where was the sympathy of the Greeks for the tribes 
they found in the land before them ? They blotted them out so 
effectually that they called themselves the autochthones, as if the 
very soil was their own mother, as if none had even stood upon 
Grecian earth before them, much less had been born of Grecian 
land. 

THE DANGER FROM A GODLESS COMMERCE. 

In the case before us there is the double danger from semi- 
civilized and wholly savage subjects to whom American ways 
must be new. The Christians may obtain the advantages of 
European civilization corrupted to the very core by scepticism 
and love of gain. If they do, they will be an instrument to 
destroy their own countrymen, to convert the islands into scenes 
resembling in some respects, yet differing in some respects, from 
those in which Turkish lust and cruelty played for centuries 
their hellish part. Let no one suppose we are predicting un- 
likely things. The past is full of resultant contradictions when 
zeal for Christianity is combined with the propagandism of 
trade. Trade follows the flag, say the English ; and the flag walks 
in the footsteps of the missionary, adds some good, newly married 
man, prepared to sacrifice the ease of an idle and unappreciated 
life in England for a mission to the negroes, with its adjuncts 
of salary, servants, and territorial grants, its fortress-house and 
arms of precision. As surely as the American missionary, like 
his English brother, brings the trappings of a conqueror and 
takes as his companion the pioneer of trade, so surely will 
there arise in the Philippines an American caste who will call 
themselves Christian while denying the divinity of the Lord, 
and who will rule the new territories as Greek merchants ruled 
the coasts of the Adriatic and the eastern Mediterranean, as 
the Phoenicians sat with their gods and their riches like an in- 
cubus on Africa, as the East India Company devoured the sub- 
stance of the people of India. A horrible picture stands before 



730 ENGLISH ADMINISTRATORS AND [Mar., 

us in the experience of godless commerce. The imported 
moneyed class will be the over-lords of fraud, the more intel- 
ligent and self-seeking Christian natives will be their instru- 
ments in developing the resources of the country. They will 
begin as overseers in forcing their fellow-Christians to work 
for the new masters in mine and field and forest, on road and 
swamp and mountain ; they will turn their attention to the 
heathen, and he will know of Christianity as the name of a 
strong, resistless tyranny greater in its power of evil than the 
most maleficent of the gods he placated with sacrifice. What 
a life may be that of the high caste, the conquerors of the 
land ! Wealth beyond the dreams of avarice will minister to 
vice unrestrained by opinion. The countless servants of an 
eastern harem to flatter them, financial agents versed in the 
science of overreaching to find expedients, armies to go and 
come at their bidding. Their example will go down through 
the strata of society, poisoning, eating into and corroding all 
classes in its descent, until the appalled world will regret the 
overthrow of Spain. 

PROSPERITY LIES IN A CHURCH FREE TO DO HER WORK. 

If, upon the other hand, no violence is done to religious be- 
lief ; if the United States respects the rights of conscience, 
leaves to the church, so long fettered by connection with the 
state, the power to complete the work she began so well and 
which might under favorable circumstances have made in the 
eastern archipelago a civilization in its own way great and 
famous as that which centred round the ^Egean, it is beyond 
the limits of imagination to predict the future of the Philip- 
pines. We go back to early Greece. Like as in those islands, 
sea and air unite them as a dome above, a floor below. Almost 
as in the coasts of Greece, the islands and Asia Minor, so in 
the Philippines the eye reaches from land to land, short voy- 
ages from bay to bay would clasp them to each other. In 
both regions the fauna of the temperate north and south are to 
be found ; we have the like variety in the living forms of nature, 
while it appears there are varieties or species in the Philippines 
to be found nowhere else. The Athenians from the earliest 
period combined with the life of the husbandman that of the 
sailor. Immeasurably greater than the resources and extent 
of the city-state are those of the islands now ceded to this coun- 
try. What Athens accomplished in uniting the endurance de- 
manded for agricultural pursuits with the merchant's spirit of 
enterprise can be developed in the new possessions if there be 



1899-] THE CEDED POSSESSIONS. 731 

a due regard to the teachings of the old example. Respect 
for religion and a tone of moral elevation were acquired in the 
fire of a great political calamity. The summons to Epimenides 
to reconsecrate the desecrated city and the state to religion 
marks the beginning of that career of prosperity on sea and 
in the science of government which makes the story of Athens 
so wonderful, so unique. The beginning of that career was the 
laying deep in the soil of the national heart a love of morality 
and reverence for religion. The principles were not new. They 
had possessed authority in better days, but they became cold 
at the time of the famous violation of sanctuary when the ad* 
herents of Cylon were dragged from the altars and the statues 
of the gods to be murdered. An enthusiasm for religion and 
morality seized the whole people, which their great law-giver 
directed into the preserving channel of a system. From that 
time began the impulses and transformations which made Athens 
a new city and the centre of a commerce with the islands and 
coasts of the ^Egean ; began the struggles against powerful 
houses for law and liberty which ended in the triumph of the 
people, so that no single family or class could assert particu- 
lar privileges and all the citizens were equal before the law ; 
began the spirit of enterprise that covered the sea with Athe- 
nian galleys, and the cultivation of philosophy, literature, and art 
which have enriched all generations since. 

There are usages and laws of life which cannot be broken 
up without destroying morality. You may by superior force 
uproot the influences which make the family a sacred thing, 
and the state resting upon the family a power to elevate. 
What will you give back in return for the good you have taken 
away ? Seek light from the administrators of equity-law. They 
will refuse to upset a child's settled belief in a form of Chris- 
tianity though the father may think his own the better form. 
The courts recognize, when asked to enforce the father's 
acknowledged right in such a case, that they are only sure of 
one thing if the application be granted that the child's belief 
will be shaken ; they are not sure that a better form will win 
acceptance. 

It is with profound anxiety we look to the future of the 
inhabitants of the Philippine Islands. Wisely ruled, a great future 
is before them. There are priests in America attached to the 
Constitution Americans of the Americans who are full of the 
zeal which in the first ages of Christianity changed the face of 
the world. Whatever is wanted to vivify faith, to purify life, 
to instil or develop the promptings of a prudent desire for 



732 THE CEDED POSSESSIONS. [Mar. 

temporal advancement, can be supplied by them. In their hands 
the people must become industrious and law-abiding, for they 
know that St. Paul wrote the words of inspiration when he 
commanded obedience to the higher powers and declared the 
right to eat depended on the will to work. This has been 
the teaching of the church. It cannot be set aside by irrele- 
vant theories of the effects of charity on independence on the 
one part, by libels on Catholic loyalty under the title of divided 
allegiance on the other. Such missionaries have no personal 
object to serve. In any pursuit they would obtain a larger 
measure of what men include under the phrase enjoyment of 
life. Unsupported by domestic affection, tied to the demands 
of nature by an allowance limited to them nay, less than what 
is needful to supply them because the priest must fast lest 
those committed to his charge should suffer want ; in these 
very ordinary facts of a missionary's life there is a guarantee 
for the honest performance of the work. If those men are 
allowed to perform it, if no access of misplaced zeal be per- 
mitted to invade their rights, if no interference on the part of 
intruders intruders because the field is already occupied, if no 
such interference be encouraged, all that has been said in this 
paper as to the possibilities of the future will attend on the 
awakening of the subject peoples to the new world with which 
American energy will surround them. That will be the answer 
to Europe for the war, the best title-deed to go down to pos- 
terity for its result. 





* THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS. 

BY EVA A. MADDEN. 

LOVE, at dusk, to enter at the door 

Of some great Gothic church and, like a nun, 

A vesper vigil keep, until the sun 

eaves vault and lights in gloom, There on 
the floor 

'o kneel, and watch the sacred flame glow 

more 

As darkness dims alone, save for the One 
Upon the cross and gaze as men have done 

'or ages, on the patient look He wore. 

)h ! may I enter thus within the shrine 
Of my own soul, and wait until the lamp 

Of that, my own blessed sanctuary, glow 
nto effulgent light. Oh, may it shine 
Amid the gloom, the sin, the cold and damp, 
And show, there too, the Christ with head 
bowed low ! 



734 



SfNIELEMEN. 



[Mar., 




BY ANNA D. ROSECRANS. 



ALL aboard for the Mission at St. Ignatius, in the beauti- 
ful Blackfoot Valley! 

The scene and experience, so we were told, would be well 
worth the trip, and would be a bit of mediaeval life a unique 
sight in this prosaic nineteenth century. 

Away went the train, with its burden of civilization, and 
we enjoyed in anticipation a new sensation a sight of the 
primitive red man in all his panoply of war. After a few 
hours' climbing and descending of the Rockies we steamed up 
to the little station at Ravalli, so called after one of the early 
missionaries. 

The air was fresh from the last night's rain, and as we 
climbed into the four-seated wagon, drawn by an equal number 
of sleek " cayuses," we felt that it was a good thing to be 
alive and able to inhale the sweet odor of moist earth and 
fragrant pines and mountain flowers. In and out we wound 
our way, now in sunlight, now in shade. Overhead the sky of 
the mountains nowhere so deeply blue so clear that the eye 
loses itself in the ecstasy of pure color. 

A light breeze blew the few clouds of morning, making 
shadows over the swelling folds of the mountains which were 
yellow with the luxuriant " bunch-grass." 

Up we go ! Now jolting merrily along the level spaces, 






I8Q9-] SlNlELEMEN. 735 

again splashing down into the brook sprawling across our path- 
way. Our half-breed driver told us that at their yearly meet- 
ing on this great " feast-day " there are always several hundred 
Indians gathered at the Mission, which is on the Blackfoot 
Reservation. Five chiefs, of the Flatheads, Kootenais, and 
Pend D'Oreilles, with their squaws and children, would cele- 
brate the day of St. Ignatius before going off for a camping 
spell. 

A climb of two hours through a narrow canyon brought us 
to the summit of the ridge overlooking the lovely valley of the 
Blackfoot the " Sinielemen " an Indian word meaning rendez- 
vouz, " a gathering of the clans." What a panorama ! In 
smooth curves the mountain rolled to join the valley at our 
feet, its yellow grass glowing golden in the warm sunshine. 
The fertile, undulating plain stretched to the right and left as 
far as the eye could see. Tents and huts clustered thick about 
the Mission buildings. In the background the valley surged 
in masses of green against the sublime Rockies, which rise per- 
pendicularly, without a break, eight thousand feet ! 

At the right, as we reached level ground, was the small 
cemetery where the " braves" lie asleep at the foot of their 
beloved mountains. 

We drew up at the gate of a garden redolent with the per- 
fume of old-fashioned flowers, and caught sight of dusky young 
faces peeping shyly out, and as shyly withdrawn. 

Our tour of inspection led us first to the older girls' build- 
ings, but the gem of the place is a " kindergarten." Fancy an 
Indian kindergarten ! This is taught by some Ursulines. The 
saying of Napoleon is here exemplified in a way, for the good 
women begin literally " at the foot of the cradle." The small 
savages are unwillingly bathed, then clothed and fed. They 
appeared to take quite kindly to civilization, and we were told 
they are so apt at learning that they are soon used as inter- 
preters with the teachers and parents. 

The large girls are taught a common-school course, includ- 
ing cooking, housekeeping, and dressmaking. In the boys' 
buildings we saw excellent printing, carpentry, saddle and 
harness work, done under the supervision of the Jesuits. It 
was difficult to believe that the brass band which played so 
nicely was composed of Indian boys. 

By sunset the tribes had assembled. Smoke curled into the 
still summer air from many huts and "tepees." Bucks on 
horseback, gorgeously arrayed and painted with richest colors, 



736 SINIELEMEN. [Mar., 

pranced and curveted up and down the principal street of the 
village, to the admiration of the squaws and children seated 
around. 

It was the " boulevard " of the Mission, and the beau monde 
of Indiandom were outrivalling each other in brilliant display. 
It is not so far off, after all we smiled to ourselves from 
Fifth Avenue ! Presently round a corner came a pretty sight, 
the girls of the Mission going for milk. Followed by a black- 
veiled sister, they marched, each couple carrying a bright pail. 
The young bucks picked out their favorites as they passed, 
with many a smile. Suddenly the bell tolled the "Angelus"; 
all was hushed. The prancing horsemen checked their steeds, 
the people fell on their knees, while the voices of the children 
could be heard murmuring the evening prayer. 

The sun sank, the quiet stars stole out one by one, and we 
lingered entranced by the beauty, the peace, the quaint simpli- 
city of the lovely spot. Lights and shades played on the 
majestic heights of the mountains. Slowly the rose-tints faded 
into purple, the air blew deliciously cool, the hum of voices 
grew fainter, the horses neighed gently to their weary compan- 
ions. Now and then a dog barked lazily, and night summer 
night in the Rockies flooded the valley with dreamy beauty. 

Reluctantly we wended our way to bed. As we passed the 
little church we saw by the dim light some dusky forms keep- 
ing vigil there. 

We rose next morning at the unaccustomed hour of five, in 
order to attend the first services of the feast-day. Everything 
lay bathed in dew, and the valley was still in the subdued light 
of expectant dawn, for the sun had not yet climbed over that 
precipitous ridge. 

What an impressive sight ! On came the Indians, the women 
in one file, the men in another. They filled the church to over- 
flowing men and women seated on different sides of the 
building. The doors were thrown open, to allow those who 
could not find seats inside to follow the services from the 
open air. During the Mass the old chiefs of all the tribes said 
the prayers, answered by all the Indians. Then came a pause, 
and presently the women started a plaintive chant, followed 
again by prayers and alternated by singing. 

At a proper time was the Communion, every one receiving 
in turn the perfect order of the whole proceeding being re- 
markable. 

The feature of the later service was the singing of a trained 



I899-] 



SlNIELEMEN. 



737 




AS WE PASSED THE LITTLE CHURCH WE SAW BY THE DIM LIGHT A 

DUSKY FORM KEEPING VIGIL THERE." 



738 SINIELEMEN. [Mar., 

choir of Indian girls, and a sermon in Kalispel by an old 
and favorite missionary. The queer guttural sounds, the dark, 
impassive faces, the gorgeous coloring of the painted Indians 
with their picturesque garments, the altar, its lights and flowers 
all made a scene never to be forgotten. 

As the crowd dispersed into the sunshine each Indian stooped 
and kissed the foot of the old wooden cross erected by the 
first missionary among them. 

The day passed only too quickly, and it was with a feeling 
of reluctance that we turned our faces homeward in the after- 
noon. 

Were those lives spent in this isolated spot on God's fair 
earth fruitless? we philosophized to ourselves, or is it true what 
the dear old poet says, and that we 

" . . . departing leave behind us 
Footprints on the sands of time"? 

The summit was reached. We paused with a backward look 
at the great cliffs; the golden, peaceful valley; the broken, 
irregular village ; the humble little cemetery all was beautiful 
as a dream, and there came to us with a thrill of emotion 
those lines of liquid music: 

" No more, no more, the worldly shore 
Upbraids me with its loud uproar; 
With dreamful eyes my spirit lies 
Under the walls of paradise." 

Adieu, " Sinielemen," the happy valley, the rendezvous of the 
Blackfoot ! 





1899-] MAURYA-NA-SCOOB. 739 



MAURYA-NA-SCOOB. 

A LEAF FROM THE HISTORY OF DARKEST AC HILL. 
BY P. G. SMYTH. 

fCOOB ! Scoob ! Scoo-ooo-ooob ! " 

Such a strange, weird, appealing cry, resound- 
ing through the quiet, drowsy street, specially 
quiet and drowsy at noonday, for then the humble 
shops were desolate of custom, and the men were 
away at work, and the children were at school, all except the 
very little ones, who sat on the steps and broken curbstones 
and played and prattled in a vague, desultory way. 

" Scoo-oob ! " 

It suggested the "lonely croon" of a daylight banshee. 
But as it passed there also drifted by a sudden, delicate, grate- 
ful fragrance that brought up thoughts of whirring grouse, fleet 
hares, smoky poteen stills, damp-skirted clouds, Rob Roy and 
his Highland caterans, William Black and his Highland novels, 
and other things suggested by heather in full pink bloom, 
breathing the perfume distilled by nature up among the pure 
mountain air. 

A woman went slowly by, bending under a load of heather 
brooms ; an elderly peasant woman, with the large blue cloak 
of her class flapping around her and grizzled locks straggling 
from under the bright plaid shawl that covered her head. 
Occasionally she stopped for a few seconds to chat with the 
children and incidentally to sprinkle blessings in the Irish 
language upon them, and at every door she passed she uttered 
her peculiar whoop. Once in awhile this brought out the 
woman of the house with a penny ; a sale was effected and a 
transfer made of one of the huge heather bouquets, soon to 
lose its bloom and fragrance in the prosaic dust and to be trans- 
formed into a bunch of wiry rods. 

At times Maurya-na-Scoob, or Mary of the Brooms, ceased 
her cry and turned to song in advertisement of her wares : 

" I bought a bit of bacon, 

Fried it in the pan ; 
No one there to eat it 

But the besom man. 
VOL. LXVIII. 47 



74 MA UR YA -NA-Sco OB. [Mar., 

" Who'll buy my besoms ? 

Besoms fine and new. 
Who'll buy my besoms ? " etc., etc. 

But very few and infrequent, notwithstanding her profes- 
sional chant, were the bits of bacon that Maurya bought. Hers 
was a hard calling. Her complexion was swarthy and glowing, 
though the lines on her face were graven deep. From her 
rough cradle she had been accustomed to hardships, all of which 
she bore as inuredly and uncomplainingly as the rest of the 
islanders who battled hard for existence with nature and the 
landlords and the government among the grim, barren moun- 
tains of Achill. 

The besom is an ancient Irish domestic institution. For 
several hundred years it has brushed the earthen floors of their 
cabins. It was known as long ago as the eighth century, when 
St. Colchu the Wise wrote his famous Scuap Crabhaigh, or 
Besom of Devotion, intended to cleanse the souls of the people 
as the heather broom did their homes. Perhaps it is on account 
of the base use to which it is turned that the bonny, sweet- 
smelling planta genista has been so long looked upon with 
popular contempt ; perhaps that is why the first Plantagenet 
stuck a sprig of it, in humility and penitence, in his cap, and 
adopted its humble name, when he started on his pilgrimage to 
the Holy Land. In Ireland any association with heather in the 
humble broom-making industry is considered utterly plebeian 
and degrading, as witness that unhappy mayor of Limerick, 
" Shawn-na-Scoob," whom Michael Hogan, the Bard of 
Thomond, so remorselessly scathed in his poetic epistles from 
" Thunder-and-Lightning Hall, Fire-and-Brimstone Street, Mount 
Parnassus." 

But little thought or cared Maurya-na-Scoob of how public 
opinion might regard her business and indeed public opinion 
in these parts gave itself but small exercise on the matter. 
She was merely a brave, enduring, hardworking alas ! how 
hardworking Achill woman, vying with grouse and badgers 
to draw a livelihood from the mountain's storm-swept crest. 

On this particular day Maurya's whoop was more subdued 
than usual ; her song was not so gay ; there was hesitation in 
her gait and an anxious reconnoitring look on her face. On 
catching sight of a man approaching along the street she grew 
pale and nervous and crossed herself as at dread of impending 
evil. 



1899-] MA UR YA-NA-SCOOB. 74 [ 

"Good-day, Maurya ; and how are you?" 

" I'm quite well, Thomas Rua ; and how is yourself?" 

They spoke in the vernacular and used the stereotyped ex- 
pressions of formal Celtic salutation. On his side there was 
embarrassment, on hers anxiety. He was an elderly man with 
reddish hair and whiskers streaked with gray, and he wore the 
russet leggins commonly affected in Ireland by rustic " limbs 
of the law." 

' 'Tis a heavy load you have to-day, Maurya." 

u Heavy enough, and a long bit of road to carry it too ; 
but God made the back for the burden." 

" I'm afraid it's about the last of its kind you'll carry." 

" Oh, I hope not, Thomas Rua ; I'm feeling well and strong 
yet, and we must all earn our living." 

" But not in that way, Maurya." He took from his capa- 
cious pocket a batch of bluish official documents, one of which 
he peeled off and handed to her. She received it with tremb- 
ling fingers and dumped her balmy burden on the sidewalk. 

" Not in that way, Maurya. This is a summons command- 
ing you to appear at the next Achill petty sessions to answer 
a charge of trespassing on the Pike estate. And I have sum- 
monses of the same kind for about twenty of your neighbors. 
And you'll all be fined, sure enough. But 'tis you're own fault. 
What a queer, foolish, obstinate lot of people you are ! Didn't 
the bailiff warn you not to pull the heath?" 

Maurya-na-Scoob did not appear to hear him. She looked 
vacantly at the dreaded legal document, which she held ginger- 
ly between her thumb and forefinger, as if it were a repulsive 
and dangerous object. 

" I knew it was coming," she said ; " I had the feeling all 
over me that it was coming. O Virgin ! is the last poor bit 
to be taken out of our mouths?" 

" Well, Maurya, leave the heath alone and it will be much 
better for you," advised Red Tom, the summons-server. 

" The heath!" She turned upon him fiercely. "And what 
have we left, Thomas Rua, but the heath ? Will they want us 
to leave the air alone next ? There was a time, Thomas Rua, 
when people of my name and family owned all the best green 
land round Clew Bay don't laugh, you ignorant fool, you 
omadhaun ! it was so before the stranger came and drove us to 
the black bogs and wild mountains. And even these they be- 
grudge us now, claiming, the idiots ! that we spoil their beauti- 
ful sport of shooting game as if one mightn't pull the makings 



742 MAURYA-NA-SCOOB. [Mar., 

of ten thousand besoms on Slievemore without man or bird 
ever missing it." 

" But that's no reason you'd take what isn't yours." 

" Death's bandage on you (tnarriv faushg ort/i), you clown ; 
you speak that way because you're a government man. We 
take nothing but what belongs to us, and very, very little of 
that. The mountain heather belongs to us, and I wish I could 
make of it a great, large besom that would sweep all our 
enemies into the sea, as St. Patrick drove the serpents. The 
heath, indeed ! God knows that men and women, and especially 
Achill men and women, are more valuable than grouse and 
hares." 

The court official stared in dismay at what he considered 
an appalling tirade of contumely, contempt of court, anarchy, 
Whiteboyism, praemunire, and other forms of high treason. 

" The magistrates will teach you manners, my lady," he 
cried as he retreated. " But what better language could one 
expect from Maurya-na-Scoob ! " 

" Go along, you dirty old tool of tyrants," she hurled after 
him, to the amusement of many whom the loud colloquy had 
attracted to the doors; "my trade is a thousand times cleaner 
than yours every day in the year." 

She resumed her burden, and again her monotonous, appeal- 
ing cry resounded through the street : 

" Scoo-oo-oob ! " 

It was a dreamy June evening when Maurya, having dis- 
posed of her stock, returned wearily homewards. Slievemore, 
hoary mountain monarch, wore his regal purple, and a golden 
cloud-crown shone on his head. The sun redly gilt the rocks 
and heath and the wild flowers that starred the scanty herbage. 
A distant streak of sea horizon made more desolate the vast, 
russet bogs whose solemn wastes it margined. A society-shun- 
ning anchorite of the Thebaid might here have revelled in the 
solitude he loved. Modern monks have indeed sought and 
struggled with this austere wilderness ; there stands the little 
Franciscan monastery of Bunacurry, whose industrious brother- 
hood has stripped, during the past half century, some acres of 
productive land of its covering of deep, brown peat. 

Barefooted the broom-seller walked along; like many Irish 
peasant women on a journey, she had discarded her footgear as 
an encumbrance. She passed on the wayside " Thubber-na- 
Brughaun," the well of the porridge, from which in the old 
proselytizing days the water was taken to make soup and 



1 899.] MA UR YA-NA-SCOOB. 743 

stirabout for the " Jumpers," as the Achillese were called whose 
hunger overcame their conscience, the fangs of the " lean dog" 
driving them into the arms of the Reformed religion. And a 
little further on she passed the spot where in the same period 
a Protestant bishop, surrounded by zealous clerical pillars, 
English and Scotch, of the bread and Bible propaganda, 
laid with falat the foundation-stone of an intended splendid 
church and grand missionary centre the foundation-stone, on 
which a second fragment was never laid of that aerial edifice. 

But Maurya was in no mood for such reminiscences. The 
hard, cold, carking problem of living, which for many weary 
years she had studied intently in common with about five thou- 
sand other poor but practical social economists who strove for 
existence on that huge, moor-encrusted island rock, was before 
her more mercilessly than ever. The thought of the " law paper " 
she had received the instrument of the dangerous, ruthless 
force that is wielded in Ireland by class against mass con- 
tinued to worry her heart and brain. 

" Weary on it for a law paper ! " she said aloud ; " 'tis a 
very poor present I'm taking home with me this fine evening. 
And the neighbors, poor creatures ! are worse off than myself. 
Dear, dear! what will become of us at all?" 

" Luachar, luachar," she cried, addressing the heather by its 
Irish name and shaking her finger at a rich tuft of the Erica 
Mediterranea (owned only by Achill of all the places in the 
" United Kingdom "), " you have long been a good friend of mine, 
and it will be a black and bitter day when they separate us." 

A sound of song and laughter and the beat of horses' hoofs 
rang out on the lonely mountain road, and a bevy of merry 
Achill girls came riding along on their hardy ponies, perched 
behind the creels or panniers containing churns, for they were 
returning from one of their usual expeditions to the distant 
pastures or milking grounds. 

" Ah, then, good-evening kindly, Maurya," said one of the 
girls. " Times must be good across the Sound, seeing that 
you've so soon got rid of your load." 

" In troth if I did, Brigid, I got a heavier one instead," and 
the broom-seller held up the abhorred law paper. 

" Ah, of course, of course, poor woman ! 'Tis a great shame, 
so it is, but nearly everybody has got one. They've come 
down on the village like flakes of driven snow. But cheer up, 
Maurya ; sure Celia will soon be earning plenty of good money 
for you in Scotland." 



744 MA UR YA-NA-SCOOB. [Mar., 

" Celia ! in Scotland ! " 

"Come now, Maurya-na-Scoob, don't pretend you don't 
know all about it. She says she's starting with the crowd to- 
morrow. And who'd blame her, or you either, for letting her 
go, seeing there are other girls just as young going, and the 
money is well wanted ? I only wish I were going too." 

"Time enough, Brigid, time enough for you, and the same 
for Celia. Good-by, colleens." 

Maurya sighed heavily as she increased her pace. So what 
she had long shuddered at was at length at hand, and her little 
daughter would join the annual army of migration, the expedi- 
tion of toiling bread-winners of both sexes that left Achill 
every summer to work at the Scotch harvest. 

" Is it true what they tell me, Celia ? " she cried when she 
reached her home, a hovel of rounded sea stones, with a roof 
of heath bound down with straw ropes. 

" Why, yes, mother ; I thought it would be for the best, and 
anyhow it can't be helped now, for oh, mother, and 'tis sorry 
I am to have black news before you ! poor Con can't send us 
any money this season. He's met with an accident, and he's 
laid up in hospital over there in America. Here's his letter; 
it came this morning, and its empty." 

Maurya uttered a fervent prayer in Irish, then, crouching 
on the " hob " beside the red embers of the peat fire, she 
rocked to and fro, clasping her hands and moaning at inter- 
vals. After awhile she sat on a rock outside the door, under 
the stars, with the distant, melancholy sound of the waves in 
her ears. The night had descended moonless and lonely. On 
one hand lay the dismal moor, on the other towered the blue- 
black mountains. A truly Achillian prospect, characteristic of 
the grim island whose characteristic topography is greatly 
marked by gloom and sombreness ; Dooega, Dooaugh, Dookin- 
ella, Doogort, all signify dark or black places. 

Within the house Celia, a pretty brunette of the French type 
of Achillese for the islanders are of varied extraction, Milesian, 
Danish, French, and English busied herself in preparations for 
supper. As she moved about she half sung, half repeated bits 
of her school reading-lesson of the previous day : 

" My darling, my darling, when silence is on the moor 
And lone in the sunshine I sit by our cabin door, 
When evening falls quiet and calm over land and sea, 
My darling, my darling, I think of past times and thee. 



1899-] MAURYA-NA-SCOOB. 745 

" Here while on this cold shore I wait out the lonely hours 
My child in the heavens is spreading my bed with flowers. 
All weary my bosom has grown of this friendless clime ; 
But I long not to leave it, for that were a shame and crime." 

" True enough, true enough," commented Maurya. " Well, 
well, what strange things they teach children at school these 
days ! Her lesson makes me lonely. I feel as if whoever 
wrote it must have been thinking of me. ' My child in the 
heavens,' she says. Well, I have one there already, and if an- 
other should follow her but no, no ! although there's the cold 
shiver at my heart telling that somebody is walking over my 
grave. 

" Why, then, 'tis heartily welcome you are, Norah O'Malley. 
And may I make so bold as to ask where you're travelling this 
hour of the night ? " This to a buxom young woman who sud- 
denly issued from the darkness and strode up to the cabin 
door with elastic tread and cheery " God save all here." 

" In troth, Maurya, 'tis the dance in the valley I'm just, 
coming from. You can see the light and hear the fiddle from 
here. Great fun the folks are having that are starting for 
Scotland to-morrow God send them safe ! " 

"Amen. And who are going this time, avourneen?" 

" Oh ! a small hundred of them will go to Westport in John 
Healy's hooker to take the big ship for Glasgow Nancy 
Cooney and her two brothers, the three O'Malley girls, the 
Weirs and the Cafferkys and the Lynchehauns, with, as I hear, 
your own little girl in the crowd." 

"Yes, my sorrow, she's bent on going, poor little bird 
alone." 

"Not a bit bird alone, mother dear," said Celia, as she came 
to the door and saluted the visitor " not a bit of it. There'll 
be too big a flock of us for any one to be lonesome. There's 
Sibby Quinn and Mary Anne Lavelle, both only gone thirteen 
and much younger than I, and sure 'twould be a burning 
shame if youngsters of their age would go and bring home 
pocketsful of money to their people while a big, lazy thing like 
me is idling here at home. Don't you think so, Norah 
O'Malley?" 

" That's the spunky talk I like ! " cried the young woman 
admiringly. " Faith, Celia darling, you're as brave as the best 
of them." 

"Kind father fcvr her," said the old woman, shaking her 



746 MAURYA-NA-SCOOB. [Mar., 

head ; " ay, as bold a man as ever faced a storm, else he 
mightn't have got drowned in the fishing. But her sister lies 
under the cold clay in Derreens, and her brother is in hospital 
beyond the big sea, and I've got a law paper for pulling the 
heath, and I'm feeling lately that I'll soon carry my last load 
of besoms to market, and oh, Norah, avourneen, if anything 
should happen her ! " 

Norah and Celia laughed albud, the former in real, the lat- 
ter in affected amusement at Maurya's anxiety. 

"Oh, woman dear! 'tis you that's droll with your foolish- 
ness. Don't hundreds of us go to Albanach and Sassenach 
(Scotland and England) every year and come back safe, thank 
God ! with plenty of money ? How else could we ever pay the 
landlords ? Why Maurya, woman alive, I have three sweet- 
hearts of my own, so I have, in the crowd that's starting to- 
morrow, and each of them says he'll bring me back twice as 
much money as both the other two put together, and I don't 
feel a morsel uneasy for any of them. See that now, and so 
good-night and God prosper ye." 

The rugged, kindly daughter of the maritime O'Malleys 
disappeared in the darkness; Maury-na-Scoob and her child 
retired to rest ; one by one the lights were extinguished in the 
cabins, and a gloomy, terrible cloud began to unroll itself over 
the rocks and glens of Achill. 

Next morning there was a general movement of migrators 
to Darby's Point, where Healy's hooker, the Victory, of fifteen 
tons burden, lay waiting for its human cargo. Animated was 
the scene as the lively island lassies, gay in their bright plaid 
shawls and scarlet petticoats, hurried aboard, laughing and 
singing in their Celtic abandon. Young men bantered their 
belated companions, who, unable to obtain passage in that or 
the other hookers that were there, had perforce to travel round 
the winding, serrated coast to Westport. An old man of 
seventy-five tottered aboard, conducted by his young grand, 
daughter, a deaf mute; like the rest, they were going to Cale- 
donia in the hope of earning bread or rent. So went young 
girls of thirteen and fourteen, to work for the parents and the 
younger brothers and sisters at home. So went husbands, 
sons, and brothers to toil afar off, that the relatives at home 
might not know want or eviction. 

It was the same monotonous, affecting, annual spectacle of 
migration in quest of the means of support which is denied by 
the semi-sterile tracts to which the people have been driven. 



1899-] MAURYA-NA-SCOOB. 747 

And, like a chaplet of emeralds round the coast, almost con- 
necting the massive dome of Nephin and the blue spire of 
Croagh Patrick, gleamed in the sun the rich green fields, the 
sweeping fertile wastes, browsed on by the cattle of the land- 
lord and the grazier. 

Maurya-na-Scoob and her daughter were early on board, 
the former bearing her usual load of besoms, to be disposed of 
in the distant town when she had seen Celia off on the 
steamer. 

There were over a hundred passengers on the hooker Vic- 
tory when she swung away from Darby's Point about 9 : 30 A. M., 
on that memorable Thursday, the I4th of June. A light sum- 
mer mist hung like a spell of romance over beautiful Clew Bay 
and the myriad emerald islets of Mow the Firbolg. The light 
breeze lay most favorably aft, driving through the sparkling 
brine the well-laden little vessel, richer than Cleopatrian galley 
or Venetian argosy in its burden of young, loyal, brave hearts, 
strong to the call of duty, athrill with the joy of living, even 
though living meant constant and scantily rewarded toil. 

Some of the young men and boys sat with their legs dang- 
ling over the gunwale. Behind them were rows of laughing, 
ruddy-cheeked faces of girls who sang and shouted in the ex- 
uberance of glee. There were four hookers in line, each 
freighted with jubilant humanity. They stood with swelling 
sails across the blue bosom of Clew Bay, and the Victory was 
the second in the procession to arrive off the islet of Innislyre, 
with its white coast-guard station, and enter the tortuous, 
meandering channel that led to Westport quay. Here " Cap- 
tain " Healy went among his passengers and levied a fare of 
sixpence (twelve cents) per head on some ninety of them, ex- 
empting from payment about twenty more, the youngest or 
poorest ones. And now as the hookers passed near Laird's 
steamship Elm, which was being lightened as she lay partially 
stranded in the channel near Montkelly rocks, a cheer went up 
from the migrators and they crowded to the sides for a better 
view. Maurya-na-Scoob alone viewed the black hull with a 
tremor of dread ; it seemed so like a floating hearse about to 
bear away her little girl ! 

" Hurrah, boys and girls, for the fine big ship ! " 

" A fine vessel, so she is a fine vessel ! " 

" She'll take us over among the blue-bells of Scotland, where 
there 's good money for the earning." 

But now, when the voyage was all but made, and Westport 



748 MAURYA-NA-SCOOB. [Mar., 

quay, with its tall, many-windowed warehouses, distant only 
half a mile, a dreadful thing happened. Captain Healy, in 
order, he said, "to get a slant of the wind," attempted to jibe 
his mainsail, which suddenly swung round and in a moment 
the hooker was lying on her side in the water, plunging into 
it a frantic, struggling mass of both sexes, whose late joyous 
shouts were soon changed into death-gurglings ! 

Among the rest struggled Maurya-na-Scoob, clutching for life 
at her load of besoms. A girl's head, with dripping brown 
plaits, rose near her and she clutched at that also. 

" Here, Celia darling, keep tight hold tight, tight, darling ! 
Easy, girls, God bless ye ! there's not room for the whole of 
us but sure if any of us have got to go 'tis better my 
God ! " And the old besom woman disappeared amidst a flash- 
ing of grasping, frantic white arms, a chorus of piteous cries 
for aid. 

Help soon came. The Elm dropped her four boats, manned 
with gallant, active sailormen. Other boats shot out from Uae 
'shore and all joined actively in the work of rescue. 

But sudden rest had come for many a toiler. Many there 
were whose sickles would never flash in the Scottish corn-fields, 
many whose cheeks would not lose their roses nor souls abate 
their insular whiteness amid the grime of the Glasgow factories. 
The aged man and his dumb child had found repose. The 
three brave O'Malley girls would never aid, save by their 
prayers in heaven, their now utterly lone and childless father. 
Crippled old man Patten would never receive a money-bearing 
letter from his lost son and daughter. Tom Caffrey's wife and 
eight children would evermore miss his support. The white 
peace of the after-life was already on the faces of the Lavelle 
and Quinn girls, would-be willing workers of thirteen. The 
folks of returning little Scotch lassie McFarland would never 
see how the kindly Achill breezes had improved her. 

In the early afternoon a row-boat came to Westport quay 
having in tow another laden with drowned corpses. As each 
corpse was borne ashore and identified by the waiting crowd of 
Achill people, rang out on that dismal dies ires the piercing 
wail of the stricken bereaved. 

Thirty-four poor Achill toilers perished that day, most of 
them young women and girls. Of these the bodies of sixteen 
all under twenty years of age were taken from the hooker 
at low tide. 

Mournful the scenes that evening around the gaunt, gray 



1899-] MAURYA-NA-SCOOB. 749 

store that served as a temporary dead-house, the space outside 
crowded with mourners and spectators and strewn with the 
plain, cheap pine coffins supplied by the poor-law union. 

More mournful the funeral two days later, when the black 
engine crept with almost hearse-like slowness round the lament- 
ing coast and the people knelt praying by the track as the 
solemn death-train passed. The country around Achill Sound 
was black with excited, grief-stricken peasantry, and as coffin 
after coffin was carried in seemingly endless procession across 
Davitt bridge connecting the island with the mainland and 
the names of the dead were called out, the weird, soul-piercing 
Irish cry arose as it never before was heard in afflicted Achill. 

In Derreens graveyard, amid a scene of the wildest sorrow, 
twenty-eight relieved harvesters were laid to rest. The vener- 
able chief soggarth of the island uttered words of pity and 
consolation. " Happy is the corpse that the rain falls on," say 
the Irish. As the first shovelfuls of earth fell crashing upon 
the bare coffin pine the rain fell heavily on the passionate, un- 
heeding mourners, and with theirs the rising tempest joined its 
wail. 

And the " law paper," the summons for the heinous crime 
of picking heath on the wild heights of Achill ? Well, even 
while the engine was drawing towards the island the score and 
a half of dead bodies of those who had perished on their pil- 
grimage to earn the rent for the landlords and the seed-rate for 
the Shylock government even the gentle Morleyian govern- 
ment the petty sessions court sat at the Sound, and the agent 
of the Pike estate was there to prosecute in the cases of twenty- 
two islanders charged with trespass and pulling of heath. In 
fifteen of the cases the interests of the grouse and the grouse- 
shooters were vindicated by a fine of sixpence and costs 
amounting to three or four days' wages three of the persons 
fined being survivors of the late disaster. In the other seven 
cases the prosecutor made the significant announcement : 

" Withdrawn." 

The defendants, including Maurya-na-Scoob, had been sum- 
moned before a higher tribunal ; the heel of Irish landlord and 
government oppression could not be set on the tranquil faces 
of the dead. 




lie who sighs, 

Amid this barren 

waste of woe, 
To find a pathway to 

the skies, 
A light from 

Heaven's eternal glow, 

By Thee must come, Thou gate of 

love, 
Through which the Saints un- 

doubting trod, 
Till faith discovers, like the 

dove, 
An ark, a resting place in God. 








With living waters 




Thou art the TRUTH, 

whose steady ray 
Shines on through earthly 

blight and bloom, 
The pure, the everlasting ray, 
The lamp that shines e'en in 
the tomb ; 

The Light that out of 

darkness springs, 
And guideth those who 

blindly go; 

The word whose precious 
radiance flings 



gushing o'er, 

And those who drink 
shall ever dwell 
Where sin and thirst 

are known no more. 
Thou art the mystic pillar 

given, 
Our lamp by night, our light 

by day ; 
Thou art the Sacred Bread from 

Heaven, 

Thou art the Life, the Truth, 
the Way. 



Its lustre 





752 CATHOLIC PRELATES AS AMERICAN DIPLOMATS. [Mar., 
CATHOLIC PRELATES AS AMERICAN DIPLOMATS. 

BY MARGARET F. SULLIVAN. 

EVERAL times in its crises the government of 
the United States has invited an American Cath- 
olic ecclesiastic to go abroad for it on a confi- 
dential diplomatic mission. The first instance 
occurred during the War of the Revolution. 
It was logical that the American government should choose 
for that mission one of the representatives of the race which, 
politically subject by force to England, had shown almost en- 
tire unanimity of sympathy with the aspirations of the revolted 
colonies in America. Incomplete reading has misled an Ameri- 
can occasionally to claim that this unanimity was not substan- 
tial, or that there was a religious predilection that arrayed the 
Irish in Ireland or in America with or against the revolted col- 
onists. Happily the testimony of historians of both creeds is 
conclusive upon the subject. When, several years ago, in the 
library of the British Museum, I sought to learn what the con- 
temporary English thought of the American Revolution, of its 
causes, motives, means, men, and object for shall we not be 
fair even to our foe, and listen in kindness to his own state- 
ment of his case ? there I found evidence of whose existence 
no American historian seemed to be aware. It is the testi- 
mony taken in 1779 before a committee of the House of Com- 
mons appointed " to inquire into the conduct of the American 
war." 

One of the persons examined was Major-General Robertson, 
who deposed that he had been twenty-eight years in the royal 
service in America. Asked how the rebel force was composed, 
he replied that General Lee, the American, had informed 
him " half the Continental army was from Ireland." Add to 
this the soldier contingent of native Americans born of Irish 
parents, and the inference seems irresistible that more than 
half the Revolutionary army was of Irish blood. 

Lecky, the (Protestant) historian, writing of England in the 
eighteenth century, dwells upon the copious emigration from 
Ireland to the colonies, Catholics and Protestants alike. "They 
went with hearts burning with indignation, and in the War of 



1 899.] CA THOLIC PRELA TES A s AMERICAN DIPLOMA TS. 753 

Independence they were almost to a man on the side of the 
insurgents " {England in the Eighteenth Century ', vol. ii. p. 285). 

The Protestants of Ireland had their opportunity in the 
Irish parliament. " The Roman Catholics, who were the vast 
majority of the population, were excluded from all representa- 
tion, both direct and indirect. They could not sit in parlia- 
ment and they could not vote for Protestant members " {Lead- 
ers of Public Opinion in Ireland, Lecky, p. 65). There were 
two parties among the members, one led by Flood, the voice 
of the English crown ; the minority, led by Grattan, the voice 
of Ireland, the overwhelming majority of the people of Ireland, 
the statesman who said truly that " Europe, not England, is the 
mother of America." When Flood, speaking for the king, pro- 
posed aiding the crown in the American colonies, Grattan op- 
posed the proposal and described America as " the only hope 
of Ireland and the only refuge of the liberties of mankind." 

The Catholics of Ireland, barred from their national forum, 
found their opportunity in resentful refusal to enlist for ser- 
vice against the American revolutionists. It was the complete 
failure of the recruiting officers in Ireland that compelled the 
king to seek mercenaries on the Continent. Here again Eng- 
lish testimony is not wanting in freshness. Had not the poet 
Cowper condemned the Americans? Did not Samuel Johnson 
write against the right of remonstrance ? Was it not that 
splendid genius who affirmed, while calling the American patri- 
ots robbers and pirates, " Liberty is to the lowest rank of 
every nation little more than the choice of working or starv- 
ing" ? An admiring biographer of General Burgoyne writes: 
" The extravagant sums paid by the English government in the 
shape of levy money and bounty was a powerful incentive to 
the avarice of the despotic petty princes whose unscrupulous 
barter of their subjects created indignation throughout Germany. 
Many of the men were forcibly seized and sold to swell the 
revenues of their sovereigns." 

Frederick the Great taxed those who passed through his do- 
minions like " cattle exported for foreign shambles." Catherine 
of Russia was requested by the king to supply twenty thousand 
men at her own terms. The king wrote to Lord North : " The 
letter of the empress is a clear refusal and not in so genteel a 
manner as I should have thought might have been expected 
of her. She has not had the civility to answer me in her 
own hand " (Political and Military Episodes in the latter half of 
the eighteenth centiiry : Derived from the Life and Correspon- 



754 CA THOLIC PRELA TES A s AMERICAN DIPLOMA 7 s. [Mar., 

dence of the Right Hon. John Burgoyne, General, Statesman, 
Dramatist, by Edward Barrington De Fonblanque). 

The English writer is plausibly of opinion that Frederick 
was less animated by humanity than by chagrin that England 
had raised the price of soldiers for hire. On the other hand, 
Mr. De Fonblanque ought to be willing to concede that the 
Elector of Saxony was more aesthetic than avaricious ; that in 
selling an entire regiment of dragoons for " forty large blue 
and white metal jars " he was less moved by greed for gain 
than by taste for bric-a-brac. 

As for Catherine, the king doubtless did not know that 
sympathy with democracy had little place in her thoughts when 
neglecting to send him her imperial autograph. At that time 
Catherine was engrossed with comparative philology (Science of 
Language, Max Miiller, vol. i. p. 142). 

Having failed to procure recruits among the Catholics in 
Ireland, the crown tried to do so, but unsuccessfully, in Canada. 
On the contrary, two regiments of Canadian Catholics aided 
the patriots at the cost of censure from the ecclesiastical 
subordinates of the crown in that province. 

Congress sent Franklin and Chase to Canada in 1776 in the 
hope of inducing the Canadians to unite with the Revolu- 
tionists. " They were accompanied by the Rev. John Carroll, a 
Catholic clergyman, afterward Archbishop of Baltimore, whose 
influence with the people it was thought would be useful on 
account of his religious principles and character. But they 
found the state of affairs in Canada by no means such as to 
encourage any just hope of success. Negligence, mismanage- 
ment, and a combination of unlucky incidents had produced 
confusion and disorder that it was now too late to remedy " 
(Sparks's Writings of Washington, vol. iii. p. 390). Chief among 
the irremovable barriers was the " address " of John Jay " to the 
people of Great Britain," in which he assailed the religion of 
the Canadians in truculent terms. That deplorable error on the 
part of an otherwise able and admirable patriot placed English 
ascendency in Canada beyond the reach of any influence with- 
in the means of the American patriots. A descendant of the 
Huguenots, who had suffered so cruelly from bigotry in France, 
Mr. Jay forgot that no one in the new world ought to be held 
responsible for old world intolerance, no matter in what avowed 
cause practised. Like the Puritans, who, fleeing from religious 
oppression, were eager for a time to inflict it on those who 
differed from them in a republic, Mr. Jay even tried to se- 



1 899.] CA T HO Lie PRELA TES A s AMERICAN DIPLOMA TS. 755 

cure for the legislature of New York legal authority to deny 
religious liberty at any time to any denomination. Washing 
ton, Jefferson, Franklin, and their enlightened associates, so 
far from sharing Jay's fatal prejudice, opposed it by precept 
and action. But there was one more of Jay's mind. In 1780 
the envoy of Spain, proceeding to the camp of Washington, died. 
The members of the Continental Congress were invited to the 
requiem at St. Joseph's Church, Philadelphia. Thereupon a 
proclamation to the officers and soldiers of the American army 
appeared. " Do you know," it ran, " that the eye which guides 
this pen lately saw your mean and profligate Congress at Mass?" 
The author of the proclamation was Benedict Arnold. 

When Washington was elected President under the Consti- 
tution, John Carroll, who accompanied Chase and Franklin as 
commissioners to Canada, had been named Archbishop of Bal- 
timore, and on behalf of the Catholic clergy and laity he pre- 
sented to Washington an address of congratulation in which 
appears this significant sentence : 

" Whilst our country preserves her freedom and indepen- 
dence, we shall have a well-founded title to claim from her 
justice the equal rights of citizenship, as the price of our 
blood, spilt under your eyes, and of our common exertions for 
her defence, under your auspicious conduct." To which 
Washington replied : " I hope ever to see America among the 
foremost nations in examples of justice and liberality. And I 
presume that your fellow-citizens will not forget the patriotic 
part which you took in the accomplishment of their Revolution 
and the establishment of your government." 

The second instance : " Our war with the Confederate States, 
as we now know and realize, was formidable enough in all its 
aspects and consequences without the aggravations of a simul- 
taneous conflict with England and France . . ." "The em- 
peror said . . . that when the French people were out of 
employment the government was expected to furnish them 
with bread. . . . He sought and expected the co-operation 
of England, a large majority of whose citizens were with him 
in sentiment and sympathy " (Autobiography of Thurlow Weed, 
p. 649). In May, 1861, the most powerful statesman in Eng- 
land, Lord Derby, had said in the House of Lords : " It is 
essentially necessary that the Northern States should not be 
induced to rely on our forbearance." In October John Hughes, 
Archbishop of New York, was invited by Secretary Seward 
to go to Washington. " It was proposed by the cabinet that I 
VOL. LXVIII. 48 



756 CA T HO Lie PR EL A TES A s AMERICAN DIPLOMA TS. [ Mar., 

should accept a special mission to England and France, in 
connection with very important national questions between the 
United States and those powers. ... I made known to the 
President that if I should go to Europe, it would not be as a 
partisan of the North more than of the South, that I should 
represent the interests of the South as well as of the North 
in short, the interests of all the United States, just the same as 
if they had never been distracted by the present Civil War " 
(Life of Archbishop Hughes, p. 449). The commissioners sailed 
together, Archbishop Hughes going to Paris, Thurlow Weed to 
London. Before the end of the year the archbishop was able, 
after much indirect and some direct communication with the 
emperor, to write to Secretary Seward, that the emperor was 
no longer " hostile to the United States." 

Mr. Weed was less fortunate. Every first-class British 
statesman, of both political parties, was against us, and so re- 
mained to the end. Mr. Gladstone said in the House of Com- 
mons, speaking for the entire ministry : * We do not believe 
that the restoration of the American Union by force is attain- 
able. I believe that the public opinion of this country 
(England) is unanimous upon that subject." 

Mr. Gladstone profoundly believed his own errors on every 
question until he discovered them. He lived to confess that 
he had misunderstood the United States and the Civil War. 
He did not undertake to expunge any part of his government's 
record in relation to it, but he owned that he had himself been 
wrong in affirming that the national American course "had 
been without any adequate or worthy object." 

Lord Salisbury, for years the paramount intellect in guiding 
the destinies of his country, had said in 1862: "The plain 
matter of fact is, as every one who watches the current of 
history must know, that the Northern States of America never 
can be our sure friends, for this simple reason : we are rivals 
politically, rivals commercially ; we aspire to the same position ; 
we both aspire to the government of the seas ; we are both 
manufacturing people, and in every port as well as at every 
court we are rivals to each other." 

Lord Salisbury has never confessed that he was in error. 
He spoke the truth. It is the truth to-day as it was when 
uttered. It is more true to-day than then. Happily he has 
lived to see sectional consciousness itself almost eliminated from 
the United States, and the South, like the North, a manufacturer 
as well as an agricultural producer. It is the entire United 



1899-] CA THOLIC PRELA TES AS AMERICAN DIPLOMA TS. 757 

States, Lord Salisbury knows, that now is the rival of Eng- 
land. 

A nation, like an individual, has no right to revenge. A 
nation, like an individual, should remember a friend to be grate- 
ful, and it was England's rival in the East, Russia, that was our 
sole friend, ready to act for us as to speak for us in days of 
national dislocation. A nation, like an individual, should re- 
member an enemy only to forgive and beware. 

There is nothing in the institutions, the ambition of the 
United States to make it necessary for them to be on other 
than terms of sincere friendship with all the nations of the 
earth of good will, and it is against their written as well as 
their unwritten law that they shall be entangled in an alliance 
with any. 

The commercial rivalry Lord Salisbury frankly recognized as 
inevitable between the United States and his country he knows 
can have but one outcome in time. Given two manufacturing 
and exporting competitors, the one with all necessaries of life 
at hand produced on its own soil, the other with the seas be- 
tween it and half its food, the fantastic and impracticable pro- 
posal of a political alliance between such rivals, however friend- 
ly now, he needs must contemplate, as a faithful son of his 
own country, with the smile of Thyrsis in the eclogue : 

" Immo ego Sardois videar tibi amarior herbis." 







BATHING PLACE OF PILGRIMS IN JORDAN RIVER. , 

FAMOUS FOUNTAINS OF PALESTINE. 

BY MARY F. NIXON. 

BESIDE a fountain's sacred brink we raised 

Our verdant altars," 

said Ulysses, and fountains seem from the earliest times to have 
been not only popular but necessary in those Eastern countries 
so hampered by the lack of rain. Mention is made of them in 
all the old histories, chronicles, and poems, and no landscape, 



8 9 9-] 



FAMOUS FOUNTAINS OF PALESTINE. 



759 



however fair, is considered complete without those " fountains 
of living water " so frequently referred to in Holy Scripture. 

The rabbis anointed the kings of Juda beside a fountain, 
and the Turks believed that one could atone for great crimes 
by the building of a public drinking-place. In Persia the 
Brahmins often dedicated such a fountain to the people, saying, 
" I offer thee, O water! to quench the thirst of mankind "; and 
it was considered a deadly sin for any one to appropriate the 
water consecrated to the poor to their own private uses. 

Eliphaz the Themanite, sorry comforter of Job, reproached 
him, saying, " Thou hast not given water to the weary to drink " 




MENDICANT DERVISHES AWAITING A STRAY ALMS. 



760 FAMOUS FOUNTAINS OF PALESTINE. [Mar., 

and many of the most beautiful Bible scenes bccur beside a 
fountain or well, and these are much the same in the Holy 
Land, where the former is described as merely a spring of 
water, natural or artificial. The village fountain was always a 
meeting-place for friends, and it must have been a beautiful 
sight to behold the maidens of the village in their snowy robes 
go forth with quaint water-jars poised upon their shapely 
shoulders, to bring water from El-Ain. 

Beneath a spreading oak-tree, gnarled and sturdy, is the 
birkeh, or water-pool, marked by a stone arch, square at the 
top but with a moresque archway, carved in arabesques and 
strange designs. From its depths what crystal water gushes 
forth into the earthen jars! which recall the words of the Per- 
sian poet : 

" I saw a potter at his work to-day, 

Shaping with rudest hand his whirling clay. 

' Ah ! gently, brother ; do not treat me thus ; 

I too was once a man ! ' I heard it say." 

Here the women pause to gossip and chat, and sturdy 
youths follow them as in the days of Jacob and Rachel. There 
some mendicant dervishes stand idly and lazily awaiting a stray 
alms, as they lean against the vine-grown stones which surround 
the village gathering-place. Here cluster the olive and mul- 
berry trees and in the distance gleam the white houses of 
Jerusalem, built around a court, their flat roofs bare to the 
cool breezes floating down from the mountain side where the 
mighty cedars of Lebanon delight the eye with their antiquity 
and magnificence. 

During the time of the Crusades the Turks filled the foun- 
tains about Jerusalem with poison and the Crusaders were 
obliged to foray to obtain sweet water. Many a cry of " Deus 
vult!" or " Christ and His Sepulchre !" resounded about the 
village fountains from those soldiers of the cross whose war- 
like lips lent themselves to the singing of 

" Fairest Lord Jesus, Ruler of all nature! 
O thou of God and man the Son ! 
Thee will I cherish, Thee will I honor, 
Thou my soul's glory, joy, and crown. 
Fair are the fountains, fairer still the woodlands, 
Robed in the blooming garb of spring ; 
Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer, 
Who makes the woful heart to sing!" 



FAMOUS FOUNTAINS OF PALESTINE. 



761 



These brave men sallied forth to obtain a cooling draught 
for a sick comrade, worn with fever or dying from the sting 
of a poisoned arrow. The service was considered an honor, 
since they were serving that Master who said that a cup of 
cold water given in His Name was well pleasing to him, and 
to this day many noble families have blazoned upon their 
escutcheons a cup or a water-jar as emblematic of the deed. 

About Jerusalem there were many famous fountains, but 
one of the best known is the Pool of Bethsaida. The Hebrew 
word " Bethsaida " means *' house of mercy, or place of the 
flowing of water," and close by the Sheep-gate, beside the walls 
of Jerusalem, lay the deep pool, supplied by a perennial foun- 
tain. About the pool, as is often the custom in Eastern coun- 
tries, were porches or colonnades, so that in the heat and glare 
of the sun people might seek refuge. The water of Bethsaida 




"THE VILLAGE FOUNTAIN WAS THE MEETING-PLACE OF FRIENDS." 

was much desired because tradition said that at certain times 
an angel came down and troubled the water, whence it possessed 
healing qualities. Multitudes of sick thronged the porches, and 
here it was that " there was a certain man that had been eight- 
and-thirty years under his infirmity. Him when Jesus had seen 
lying, and knew that he had been now a long time, he saith to 
him, * Wilt thou be made whole ? ' " How pitiful was the answer 



762 FAMOUS FOUNTAINS OF PALESTINE. [Mar., 




"NEAR BY GIHON LIES THE POTTER'S FIELD." 

of the patient soul who had so long awaited the stirring of the 
water : he had no man to place him in the water at the right 
moment. " And Jesus saith unto him : Arise, take up thy bed 
and walk. And immediately he was made whole." 

Such was Bethsaida in the time of our Lord, but now it is 
the large pool close by St. Stephen's Gate, and called the Birkeh 
Israel. Saewulf speaks of it in 1102 A. D., and Eusebius refers 
to it as " Bezetha." It is a beautiful spot 
"A deep, reflective stream, 
Untroubled as an infant's dream, 
Upon whose bosom, still, serene, 
Both earth and heaven are seen." 

Even in its ruin it is beautiful, for the flowers blossom in each 
crevice and cranny, vines festoon unsightly and time-worn walls, 
and soft Judean airs blow upon it, while the heavy foliage of the 
shrubs and trees lends grace and softness to its harsher outlines. 

Another famous fountain is Ain Selvvau, by which our Lord 
stood when he said, " If any man thirst, let him come to me 
and drink," and the prophet referred to this pool as " the 
waters of Siloe that go softly." Nehemias tells us that Shallum, 
the son of Col-hozeh, repaired " the walls of the pool of Siloe 
by the king's gardens," and hither our Lord sent the blind man 
to bathe, at which the Pharisees complained because it was 






1899-] FAMOUS FOUNTAINS OF PALESTINE. 763 

upon the Sabbath day. Josephus and the Fathers of the 
Church often speak of the fountain and the pool, and St. 
Jerome mentions the irregular flow of the waters. Maundrell 
says: "It was anciently dignified with a church built over it, 
but after the church was destroyed by the infidels, tanners used 
to dress their hides beside its waters." The massive walls were 
fifty feet long and eighteen wide, and the water irrigated the 
valley of Cedron. Upon its banks a gnarled mulberry-tree 
marks the spot where the prophet Isaias was sawn asunder by 
order of the wicked Manasses. As early as 333 A. D. it was 
referred to as " juxta murum," and the broken walls of the city 
make it easy for the antiquarian to locate the exact place as 
that of which the poet wrote : 

" Let Sion's hill 

Delight thee, and Slice's brook that flowed 
Fast by the oracle of God." 

A tangle of vines and wild flowers is thereabouts ; curious 
caper-trees, crumbling limestone rocks, and, still distinguishable, 
the stone upon which Zacharias's blood was sprinkled when he 
was put to death. Only the water is the same as of yore, clear 
as crystal, reflecting the trees and the blue skies, and as limpid 
as when it was taken for the sacrifices at the Feast of the 
Tabernacle. 

" By cool Siloe's shady rill 

How fair the lily grows ! 
How sweet the breath upon the hill 

Of Sharon's dewy rose ! 
By cool Siloe's shady rill 

The lily must decay; 
The rose that blooms beneath the hill 
Must shortly fade away," 

wrote Reginald Heber ; and he must have seen " cool Siloe," 
for his words bring up a perfect picture of the lovely, quiet 
spot, where the roses bloom and the snowy lily lingers until, 
dying, its fragrant breath perfumes the air and its scattered 
petals fall upon the calm bosom of the waters. 

" Sadoc the priest, and Nathan the prophet, and Banaias the 
son of Joiada, went down, and caused Solomon to ride upon 
King David's mule, and brought him to Gihon. And Sadoc 
took a horn of oil out of the Tabernacle, and anointed Solomon ; 
and they blew the trumpet, and all the people said, ' God save 
King Solomon ! ' " The Gihon spoken of is the fountain, or 



764 FAMOUS FOUNTAINS OF PALESTINE. [Mar., 




"THUS SAITH THE LORD : I HAVE HEALED THESE WATERS." FOUNTAIN OF ELIAS. 

Birkeh el Mamilla, and it lies in a shallow vale by the Jaffa 
gate, near to Jerusalem, beyond the olive groves. 

The pool which the fountain feeds was repaired by the 
Sultan Suleiman in the sixteenth century, but has since become a 
ruin. It was made for the great Feast of the Passover, and its 
waters, aided by "cool Siloe," irrigated the thirsty land and 
made it blossom like the rose. Not far from the lovely gar- 
dens which surround it is the Potter's Field, bought with the 
blood-money of Judas. 

This fountain is the one of which it is said, " Ezechias also 
stopped the upper water-course of Gihon and brought it straight 
down to the west side of the City of David," after the mighty 
conflict with Sennacherib, when the Lord sent an angel which 
vanquished the Assyrian host, and their king returned with 
shame to his own country. 

Elias's Fountain lies toward Jericho upon a fair hill-side, 
and 

" Olives overhead 

Print the blue sky with twig and leaf 
(That sharp-curled leaf which they never shed), 
Twixt the aloes." 

The water flows gently over stones and pebbles in a lazy 
melancholy, for the fountain and pool are well-nigh deserted, 



1 899-] 



FAMOUS FOUNTAINS OF PALESTINE. 



765 



and only a shepherd with his thirsty flock or a wandering na- 
tive frequents the picturesque spot. 

" The men of the city said to Eliseus : Behold the situa- 
tion of this city is very good, as thou, my lord, seest : but the 
waters are very bad, and the ground barren. And he said : 
Bring me a new vessel, and put salt into it. And when they 
had brought it, he went out to the spring of the waters, and 
cast the salt into it, and said : Thus saith the Lord : I have 
healed these waters, and there shall be no more in them death 
or barrenness." 

In the fertile valley of Cedron, on the boundary line 
between Juda and Benjamin, lies a spring famous in ancient 
history and revered above all the fountains of Palestine in 
modern times. The Jews called it En Rogel " rogel " meaning 
" to tread," from the Hebrew custom of treading the linen in 
the water to cleanse it. The Arab name was Ain Umed Deraj, 
or the " Fountain of the Mother of Steps," and the steps of 
the fountain were very deep and twenty-seven in number. 




THE FOUNTAIN OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN. 



The pool was three hundred and sixty feet in length and one 
hundred and thirty feet wide, and Josephus said of it that it 
was " a fair fountain, within a royal garden without the city, 



766 FAMOUS FOUNTAINS OF PALESTINE. [Mar., 

and the water was very sweet." As to this last fact travellers 
disagree. The pool is now full, now shallow, and the Arabs 
tell you that this is due to the presence of a dragon. This 
demon, or Jan, resides beneath the water, and stops the flow ; 
only when he is caught napping can the pool be rilled. 

Here it was that Adonias held his feast, " by the stone of 
Zoheleth which was near the fountain of Rogel," and Jonathan 
remained here when he sent the little maid to bear a message 
to his Fidus Achates, David, as that king fled from Absalom. 

Once the pool was a Roman fosse, or reservoir, for the Ro- 
man garrison and the walls were a portion of the defences of 
the city. Close beside it is the Tower of Antonio, whither Saint 
Paul was taken and from which he made his memorable speech 
to the Jews. The quaint, moss-grown tower, square and fortress- 
like, with a Moorish arch strangely shadowy and dim, is still 
standing, and its walls and those of the pool are completely 
overgrown with rough cacti ; vines, shrubs, nettles, and chdrul 
vie with fragrant oleanders. Beside the fountain Saint James 
was slain, after having been "cast down from the Temple into 
the valley of Cedron." 

But fairest of all memories thronging the Fountain of En 
Rogel is that of the Jewish women who came from out the 
city to wash their garments in its crystal water. To this day 
one can see Oriental damsels, large-eyed and lovely, treading 
their clothes at the water's brink, and one can easily picture 
the Blessed Virgin stately and beautiful upon the stony banks 
among her kinswomen, fairest of all the daughters of Juda, a 
lily among thorns. 

Tradition tells us that at this fountain she was accustomed 
to come daily to cleanse the household linen. Even to-day one 
is shown the steps which her feet trod and the thorn-bushes 
upon which she spread the garments to dry in the glowing sun 
of Palestine. 

A simple scene is this at the Fountain of the Virgin, as En 
Rogel is now called, yet one which seems to bring the Holy 
Family of Nazareth and Jerusalem nearer to our hearts. It 
makes us feel as if our simple cares were known and under- 
stood by the tender Mother of our Lord, and that he himself, 
the Carpenter's Son and yet a God, who might have ruled in 
pilaces and on mighty thrones, preferred to endure for us the 
life of lowly, unremitting toil. 







1899-] THE WITNESS OF PROTESTANTISM. '767 



THE WITNESS OF PROTESTANTISM TO 
CATHOLIC TRUTH. 

BY H. C. CORRANCE. 

'S Mohammedanism was the scourge of Eastern 
Christianity, so, in later times, was Protestantism 
the scourge in the West. 

From one point of view, indeed, the latter 
was better than the former, insomuch as the 
name of Mohammed was not put in the place of Christ's. 
But, on the other hand, it may be argued that Protestantism, 
of the two, has done more permanent injury to Christendom 
by the destruction of its unity, by the endless divisions and 
subdivisions engendering hatred, bitterness, and strife, among 
those who are called Christians, no less than by the jar and 
confusion of conflicting opinions and consequent weakening of 
its witness to the civilized world and to heathendom. 

But while all this is sufficiently evident to Catholics, and 
even admitted, with reservations, by many Protestants, the 
peculiar part which Protestantism seems to play in the religious 
economy of Christendom does not appear to be so fully or 
generally recognized. Protestantism, by the very existence of 
those evils in which it is so prolific, bears an unwilling testi- 
mony to the truth of Catholicism, just as the shade of a pic- 
ture brings its brighter parts into relief. The value of the past 
history and present condition of Protestantism, considered as a 
whole, can hardly be overestimated as a striking witness to the 
facts that in the Church alone can the ideal of Catholic unity 
be realized which her Founder promised, and for which he 
prayed and provided, and that in her only can be found the 
assurance of a stable and unchanging faith. 

THE IMPRESSIONS OF A CONVERT. 

A convert may perhaps be permitted to express a doubt 
whether Catholics who have always lived in a Catholic country, 
and consequently have never been brought into contact with 
the ever-changing hydra of Protestantism, or even those who 
have been brought up as Catholics in a Protestant land, can 
adequately realize how glorious is the vision of the City of 



768 THE WITNESS OF PROTESTANTISM [Mar., 

God when at length it breaks upon the sight of one who has 
long been stumbling in the darkness of heresy. In order to 
estimate the light at its true worth one must appreciate its 
foil. Not only the city of light, but its sorrowful contrast, the 
city of confusion, must be included in the mental purview, at 
least by imagination ; and those who have not only done this 
but have actually sojourned for awhile in the latter, and there- 
from made the journey to the former, with the dawn becoming 
clearer at each step, will have learnt by actual experience of 
the two systems, and not by mere theory, the difference be- 
tween truth and falsehood. 

AIMED AT UNION. 

Yes, Protestantism serves as a wonderful contrast to the 
beauty, grandeur, unity, stability, and permanence of the Catho- 
lic system. It is evident from a study of the records of the 
" Reformation " that Protestantism in its origin was very differ- 
ent from what it has become in its recent developments. 
The idea of the Protestant leaders at that time appears to have 
been the founding of a rival catholic-protestant church which 
should embrace all countries.* The most serious and successful 
attempt of this kind was that of Calvin, whose iron rule at 
Geneva and whose burning of " heretics " are well known. 

And though he had no successor to his assumed popedom, 
yet for long after his death he counted many followers in all 
Christian countries. The anathematizations of each other by 
the opposite sections, and the attempts at establishing some 
common basis of doctrine, no less than the fraternizations of 
the " reformers " of different lands, all point in the same direc- 
tion. It is well known, for instance, that the English, German, 
and Italian " reformers " made common cause together, and 
that the present shape of the Anglican articles and liturgy 
were largely due to foreign influences. 

But even Jrom the first it was found impossible to carry 
out this ideal. At the present time, in spite of the attempt of 
various English Nonconformist bodies to draw together and to 
patch up a hollow truce, in spite of Grindelwald conferences 
and the like, the different sections of English and foreign 
Protestants continue to stand apart. They are hopelessly 
divided, and by the fissiparous process which seems to be a 

* The very term, " the new learning," used at first of the Protestant heresy as contrasted 
with "the old learning," or the ancient faith, showed that the primary idea of " the reform- 
ers " was that the creed of Protestantism was to be as homogeneous, as compact, and as uni- 
versal as that of the church had been. 






1899-] T0 CATHOLIC TRUTH. 769 

law of their being they are continually producing fresh sects. 
Such a state of things has, indeed, shown itself to be so 
inherent in Protestantism that it has even been hailed by many 
as a sign of life (as no doubt it is of a sort), as being the 
note of a true Christianity. But it must always be remem- 
bered that this was not the original intention of the " re- 
formers " themselves. 

NOW HOPELESSLY DIVIDED. 

All suggestions for reunion have so far failed, and have 
proved a mere dream, while all the time the work of division 
and subdivision has gone on merrily. 

Bingham, in his Christian Antiquities ', suggested that the 
foreigners should be provided with " bishops " by the Estab- 
lished Church of England.* A tentative effort to carry out 
such an idea was made at the foundation of the "Jerusalem 
Bishopric." The result of this effort as regards the drawing 
together of the Lutheran and Church of England communities 
is well known. And it does not need a prophet to foretell 
that a similar fate awaits the suggestion of the " Bishop " of 
London to admit Presbyterians and Lutherans to the com- 
munion of the Establishment. 

The Anglican body itself, though one of the largest and 
most active of the Protestant communities, is more hopelessly 
divided against itself than are any of them. The Ritualistic 
movement, though adorning it with a few patches of the outer 
robe of Catholicity, has but left its remaining nakedness more 
apparent by contrast, and has done more than anything else 
to widen the ever-present cleavage into irremediable internal 
schism. 

And, as Protestants have failed to establish that quasi- 
Catholic Church at which the " reformers " aimed, so have their 
efforts to fix a universal standard of the Protestant faith met 
with the same failure. In spite of mutual anathematizations 
and recriminations, Augsburg Confessions, and Acts of Uniform- 
ity, it was impossible, even at that time, to secure a common 
ground, and since then Protestantism has pursued a downward 
course. Calvinism as a force in the religious world is dead. 
Luther himself would be shocked at the beliefs, or rather un- 
beliefs, of many who are called by his name, while in the case 
of some English sects the down-grade tendency has been so 
far pursued as to have arrived at a semi-Unitarianism. 

* Antiquities of the Christian Church. Book IX. chap. viii. (conclusion). 



770 THE WITNESS OF PROTESTANTISM [Mar., 

Again, take the stand-point of the Church of England as 
interpreted by its early defenders such as, e. g., Jewel in his 
famous Apology, and compare it with the attitude of Anglican 
apologists at the present day. All these facts, historical and 
otherwise, here briefly adverted to, are no doubt well known. 
But one of the lessons they teach does not seem to be suffi- 
ciently recognized : that Protestants were not at first aware of 
the destructive nature of their own principles ; that they 
imagined a common basis of agreement might be found in a 
common consent to the principles of their new gospel, or, like 
Elizabeth and her co-destructors, that such might be fixed 
once and for all by compromise, and by acts of Parliament 
with a penal code attached. The effort has proved a failure, 
and what is seen to-day in Protestantism is a common consent 
to disagree modified by occasional vaporings about spiritual 
union and brotherly love. But this universal toleration, so in- 
consistent with the idea of immutable truth, was very far from 
the ideas of the " reformers." 

UNFULFILLED YEARNINGS FOR UNITY. 

The history of the "Reformation" shows that the "re- 
formers " had retained the notions of One Catholic Church, 
though their ideal of it was a Protestant one, and of " one 
Faith once delivered " ; while subsequent history down to the 
present time is eloquent with the fact that such ideas, always 
actualized in the True Church, are, on their principles, utterly 
incapable of realization. 

The same disintegrating process is always taking place in 
those sects which in more recent times have separated from 
the church, such as the "Old Catholics"; but if the dissidents 
had been confined to these, they could not have yielded that 
grand proof on a large scale of the self-destructive tendencies 
of Protestantism which has been given to us by the giant 
schisms of the sixteenth century. Every opportunity that hu- 
man law, that wealth, that worldly prestige could give, has been 
given them, and the result has been chaos or death. 

Yet even now, though there is no corporate desire for re- 
union among the different sects, many of their individual mem- 
bers are praying and working for it in their own way, thus 
offering fresh witness, if it were needed, both to the conscious- 
ness that their state of disunion is not agreeable to our Lord's 
plainly ^expressed will, prayer, and appointment, and also to 
the impossibility, on their own principles, of escaping from it. 



1899-] T0 CATHOLIC TRUTH. 771 

The verdict of post-reformation history gives them the plain 
message, if they will but read it, that all such efforts are 
doomed to failure, and that there is only one way in which 
the unity they pray for may be secured. 

PROTESTANTISM IN THE ROLE OF A CRITIC. 

But there are other services that Protestantism has uncon- 
sciously rendered, and is rendering, to the truth. It is well 
known that criticism is healthy and bracing, and even essential 
to success. It is always helpful to be brought in some degree 
to see ourselves as others see us. It is riot only the tyro who 
needs constant coaching and teaching, but even the practised 
athlete must have his trainer keep him up to the constant pitch 
of excellence. The same may be said of writers, artists, and 
the like, even those whose fame is already firmly established. 
Nay, these often gain more from criticism than the beginner, 
who, perhaps, from want of self-confidence is more likely to 
succumb to a bitter attack. 

And certainly if the church had been a mere tyro, if she 
had been more human and less divine than she is, she might 
have sunk long ago under the blows of a hostile criticism, she 
might have fallen under the weight of obloquy that has been 
heaped upon her. Instead of that, it has merely hardened and 
braced her ; it has but increased her zeal, inflamed her piety, 
and sharpened her logic. 

Even at the Reformation period she rolled back its tide 
from her gates and regained a large portion of that sovereignty 
of which it had robbed her. Though the divine life in her 
could never be absent, yet it may be that at that time her 
watchers had been sleeping, and her shepherds had grown care- 
less from long centuries of ease and unquestioned dominion. 
But if she had been, in part at least, asleep at that time, she 
was then effectually aroused, and at the Council of Trent " the 
reformation of abuses " played a large part, not however in the 
Protestant sense of " destruction." 

OPPOSITION HAS DEVELOPED STRENGTH. 

It is true that the value of a critic is in some respects de- 
stroyed when it is known that he is bitterly prejudiced and 
unscrupulous, but still this knowledge has a good effect in 
inducing watchfulness and alertness. Protestantism as a critic 
of Catholicism may play but the rdle of devil's advocate, but 
even this is not without its uses. It is sometimes said, and 
VOL. LXVIII. 49 



772 THE WITNESS OF PROTESTANTISM [Mar., 

not without some show of reason, that the church is always at 
her best in countries which are largely Protestant. It is cer- 
tainly true that her zeal and energy are at their highest 
in missionary enterprises whether in Protestant or heathen 
lands, a fact to which the great success of her efforts among 
the latter bears ample evidence. That is simply to say that 
the church on earth is, by nature and appointment, militant ; 
and that, like a soldier in battle, she is always at her best 
when the greatest demands are made upon her. It is a law of 
grace as well as of nature, of society no less than of the 
individual, that true progress cannot be made without effort 
and opposition. In the lower planes of existence this law mani- 
fests itself in the unceasing warfare waged between species, 
tribes, and individuals, by which the weakest are eliminated 
and the strongest and most capable survive. And such warfare 
is not only between species and tribes, but between these 
on the one hand and the forces of nature on the other ; a 
struggle in which those forms survive which are best able to 
adapt themselves to their surroundings and to the changes 
which from time to time supervene therein.. Thus, the nations 
most advanced in civilization are those in which the climatic 
conditions have imposed the necessity of toil and constant 
effort ; while in countries in which, like the islands of the Paci- 
fic, no such effort is required, the fruits of the earth growing 
of themselves, mankind has remained in primitive savagery. 

As the higher stages of civilization are reached this struggle 
is transferred more and more to the moral and mental spheres. 
It is seen in the keen competition that exists at the present 
time in almost every department of social lite. 

ILLUSTRATED BY JEWISH HISTORY. 

The history of the chosen nation of the Jews affords a 
remarkable illustration of the working of this law, which indeed 
seems to have contributed no little to make them what they 
eventually became. In the first place, as a nation of warriors 
they were kept up to a constant pitch of hardness and prepar- 
ation by the presence among them of those Chanaanitish tribes 
which were not destroyed in the overthrow of the rest, but 
were left among them apparently for this express purpose. 
And again, their trial was extended to the moral sphere, of 
which the most salient instance is the Babylonish captivity 
wherein the false Israel was sifted from the true by the same 
simple and natural process. During those seventy years the 



1899-] T0 CATHOLIC TRUTH. 773 

weak in the faith of their fathers were absorbed into the con- 
quering nation. It implied a considerable moral effort in those 
who returned to leave the country in which most of them had 
been brought up and in which many of them had attained to 
positions of honor and profit, that they might begin life again 
in a poor and ruined country like Palestine. Therefore for the 
most part the nucleus of the regenerated nation consisted of 
those who were jealous for the law and traditions of Israel, 
and the effects of this sifting process were clearly manifested 
in their subsequent struggles with an aggressive and persecuting 
paganism, when the whole nation was animated with a zeal for 
their religion which had never been present in the pre-Babylon- 
ish period. 

Must it be supposed that the church is exempt from this 
seemingly universal law? Her history appears to show other- 
wise. 

PERSECUTIONS STRENGTHEN THE CHURCH. 

Her Divine Founder himself, in becoming man, consented 
to be bound by the laws both of nature and of man, except 
so far as his almighty power transcended them both. Tribula- 
tion, strife, effort, are some of the key-notes of his kingdom, 
no longer indeed in the lower but in the moral and spiritual 
spheres. His kingdom is not of this world, therefore his ser- 
vants are not to fight with carnal weapons. For " we wrestle 
not against flesh and blood." 

His kingdom is not to be spread by fleshly violence, as was 
that of Mohammed. But the cause of the church, which was 
founded by God crucified, has always been advanced by the 
suffering of her members. 

It was in the crucible of persecution that the dross of false 
profession was consumed, till little but the gold of true believ- 
ers remained. Persecution did for the early church what the 
seventy years' captivity did for the Jews. There was no place 
in her at that time but for those who belonged to her heart 
and soul. She came out of that ordeal triumphant, but with 
the marks of the struggle for ever stamped upon her body. 
It gave her a character which she has never lost. Heresies 
have always played the same part in a different way. " It 
must needs be that offences come," and " there must be also 
heresies, that they which are approved may be made manifest." 
In these words the apostle not only lays it down that the 
church is subject to this universal law, but also states the 
necessary results of its action. 



774 THE WITNESS OF PROTESTANTISM [Mar. r 

Persecution no doubt to a great extent killed heresy by 
uniting Christians in the common bond of suffering. After this 
ceased a long struggle against various misbeliefs began, in which 
the church was, as before, victorious. In the period preceding 
the Reformation she had found her Capua ; she had made peace 
in all her borders ; the healthy struggle of the past seemed at 
an end. Then arose Protestantism, that shapeless, multiform 
giant, whose inorganic mass, offering no vital point of attack, 
is at once its strength and weakness. At first, indeed, it seemed 
as if that giant was destined to destroy the church utterly. 
But the rising of this formidable foe served to bring out those 
latent resources of divine life and strength which always must 
exist within her, even at that dark hour in which she seemed 
to cry, " My God, why hast thou forsaken me ? " 

APPARENT DESIGN IN PERMITTING HERESY. 

Wherever she was given a fair field and no favor she thrust 
back the forces of spiritual chaos and re-established the divine 
order. Nothing can happen but according to God's purpose 
and will, and it must therefore be allowed that Protestantism 
has a part to play in the divine providence. That it should 
have no consciousness of this purpose and quite mistake the 
nature of its mission, which it believes to be to destroy the 
church, is only parallel to the same ignorance of the divine, 
purpose displayed by the enemies of the earthly Israel.* Sent 
in the first place, it may be, as a scourge upon the church ow- 
ing to corruption of the human element, it has since undoubt- 
edly served as a stimulus to her zeal and energy. 

It has recently been pointed out by a Catholic writer what 
a remarkable concatenation of circumstances led to the estab- 
lishment of Protestantism in England. And if it were not for 
the English-speaking race Protestantism as a religious force 
would be a negligible quantity. Much, then, as one must de- 
plore the loss to the church of such a people as the Anglo- 
Saxon, possessing such noble qualities, such exceptional oppor- 
tunities for spreading the truth, owing, as in the case of ancient 
Rome, to its genius for colonization opportunities which are 
now used for the active propagation of heresy yet at the 
same time it must be remembered that without England Prot- 
estantism as a foil and a stimulus to Catholicism would prac- 
tically have been non-existent. 

And if it be objected that it could be no part of the divine 

* Isaias x. 7 ff. 



1899-] T0 CATHOLIC TRUTH. 775 

purpose that half Christendom should lose the truth, should be 
deprived of that light of faith in which it had walked so many 
years and be plunged into the darkness of human error, it may 
be answered that the mystery involved in such action of Provi- 
dence is on all fours with that of the origin of evil, with the 
question why under the elder dispensation only one nation was 
chosen to know the truth, and why to this day the greater part 
of the world remains heathen. 

ST. PAUL'S THEORY. 

It contains the same principle as that involved in the re- 
markable declaration of St. Paul on the relation of the Jews 
to the Christians : " By their fall salvation is come unto the 
Gentiles, for to provoke them to jealousy. Now if their fall 
is the riches of the world, and their loss the riches of the Gen- 
tiles, how much more their fulness f . . . For if the casting 
away of them is- the reconciling of the world, what shall the 
receiving of them be but life from the dead ? . . . And 
they also, if they continue not in their unbelief, shall be grafted 
in : for God is able to graft them in again. . . . For I 
would not, brethren, have you ignorant of this mystery, . . . 
that a hardening in part hath befallen Israel, until the fulness 
of the Gentiles be come in, and so all Israel shall be saved. 
As touching the Gospel, they are enemies for your sake, . . . 
for as ye in time past were disobedient to God, but now have 
obtained mercy through their obedience, even so have these 
also now been disobedient that by the mercy shown to you 
they also may now obtain mercy. For God hath shut up all 
unto disobedience, that he might have mercy upon all. Oh ! 
the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of 
God ! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past 
finding out ! For who hath known the mind of the Lord ? or 
who hath been His counsellor ? " * 

* Romans xi. 12 ff. 




77 6 



AUNT BETSY, CONJURER. 



[Mar., 




AUNT BETSY, CONJURER. 

BY RITA PARKER. 

SHE was standing in the kitchen door- 
way a queer, bent old woman, 
her yellow skin furrowed by a 
thousand wrinkles, her faded 
eyes fixed upon a child playing 
in the yard. Her ample figure was 
divided about half way by a checked 
apron. Her grizzled wool had turned 
to a brownish white, and her tooth- 
less gums worked incessantly, chew- 
ing upon the tongue that she rolled 
from cheek to cheek. 
Such was our old cook. But for one fact, her lack of edu- 
cation, her name might have been wafted on the wings of 
fame to the uttermost parts of the earth and become a house- 
hold word in every civilized country. Never was originality 
more thoroughly original, nor imagination more vivid and 
boundless than Aunt Betsy's. Never was she known to hesi- 
tate a moment for an excuse, a justification, or a striking 
incident to match or to excel any marvel related to her. But 
alas! knowledge of writing and elegance of expression were 
not hers, and so she has not attained that place in literature 
which otherwise would have been deservedly hers. 

At length she hobbled to the steps and called out : 
" Gearge ! you u u u Gearge ! " 

The little figure under the fig-tree straightened up, showing 
itself to be a very black, large-eyed, large-mouthed darky, with 
two rows of shining white teeth. 

" I'ze comin', An' Betsy, jes' ez soon ez I tu'n one mo' 
somerset," and over he went. 

" Stop yer foolin', boy, en bring me in er armful o' pine." 
A few minutes later George staggered into the kitchen 
under a load that he knew would save him an extra trip to 
the wood-pile. Seeing the knives cleaned and set by and the 
salt-cellars already filled, his fear of being set to work if he 
remained in the kitchen was dispelled, and he seated himself 
in a rickety chair. 



1899-] AUNT BETSY, CONJURER. 777 

" Ez yer mos' thu, An' Betsy ? " 

The ancient dame turned on him with a look of wrath and 
fairly screamed : " Naw, I ain' no Merthuzerlum, en yer knows 
hit, yer sassy black buzzard, you ; shet up yo' mouf befo' I 
knocks yer clean outen dish yere kitchen." 

" T nuver sed yer wuz no Merthuzerlum, An* Betsy ; I jes' 
axed yer ef yer mos' thu." 

" Yes," snapped the conscience-smitten Mathusala, " I'ze 
done." 

" I doan see how yer kin be done wen yer ain' cooked yit, 
An' Betsy." 

" Ef yer doan shet up sassin' me, Gearge, I'll bus' yo' haid 
wide open wid dish yere rollin'-pin." 

At the same time a well-aimed stroke with the dish-towel 
caused George to move faster than his wont in the direction 
of his favorite haunt, the fig-tree. 

Aunt Betsy now turned her attention to the fire, mumbling 
something about " dat boy needs killin'." A minute later a 
scream from the chicken-yard attracted her notice* 

" Aunt Betsy ! O Aunt Betsy ! Come quick and scare away 
the turkey; I'm 'fraid of him." 

"All right, honey, I'ze comin'. Shoo o o o, shoo oo 
o o ; git er way, yer imperdent varmint, you ! Dat turkey 
sho is got mo' se'f-insurance dan any critter I ever see ; doan 
poke yo' sassy haid out at me, sah ! Now, Miss Kate, run tell 
yo' ma An' Betsy's ready fur de stuff fur de lemin pies." 

" Aunt Betsy, here are the lemons and sugar and eggs, and 
I will get the flour for the pastry and the rice for dinner now. 
Do not put so much water with the rice to-day as you put 
yesterday ; it was so soft that Martin would not touch it." 

" Dat warn't de matter, Miss Lelia ; dey warn't too much 
water wid dat rice ; I put jes' de same quantity lak I allus 
does ; de reason hit wuz so saft wuz caze hit's water rice. Yer 
know hit's got water in hit a'ready, en yer can't put ez much 
wid hit ez yer kin wid de udder kin' o' rice." 

" How is it that the rice has water in it, Aunt Betsy?" 

" Lor, honey, caze hit grows by de water-side." 

At this point a change of subject became a necessity, and 
choking back her laughter, Mrs. Baker asked for a can to mea- 
sure the flour. 

" Never mind, Aunt Betsy, I can get one myself ; you are 
busy with the fire." 

" Lemme git it fur yer, Miss Lelia ; Ize thu now." 

A vision of the flour skimped from the breakfast biscuit and 



778 AUNT BETSY, CONJURER. [Mar., 

secreted in one of those identical cans, for private use, con- 
fronted Aunt Betsy, but she was too late ; Miss Lelia seized 
the very can she feared for. 

"Why, Aunt Betsy, what is all this flour doing here?" 
" Dat's jes' de flour I keeps for dredgin', Miss Lelia. I allus 
has dat box half-full 'specially fur dat." 

Miss Lelia, who long ago discovered that the ancient dame's 
lineage was traceable to Ananias, succumbed and retired 
speedily to the store-room. 

The hours slipped noiselessly by and evening found Aunt 
Betsy hobbling into the house, with the assistance of her 
trusty umbrella, " ter set er while wid Miss Rena." 

This young lady, Aunt Betsy's special pet, had for several 
weeks been confined to her bed with a spell of fever. 

" How's my little gal dis ebenin'? " 

" Not so well, Aunt Betsy." 

" Dat's too bad, honey. I wuz hopin' ter fin' yer better." 

" I'm very glad to see you, Aunt Betsy. I was just going to 
call you to stay with Rena until I return from the doctor's," 
remarked Mrs. Baker, entering. 

"Please don't go to the doctor's, mother? I'll be better to- 
morrow ; please don't go ! " pleaded Rena, who by no means 
relished the idea of having as sole companion Aunt Betsy and 
her gruesome sick-bed tales. 

" I must go, Rena ; so do not beg. Aunt Betsy will take 
good care of you." 

" Let yo' ma go, honey, let 'er go. De fever mout lef ' yer in 
de night, en yer mout have er weak spell en be wuss ter-morrer 
instid o' better." 



Then, as Mrs. Baker left the room, she continued: " Yes, 
honey, I knowed er man wunst he wuz my ole missis' brudder- 
en-law en jes' caze de docter missed comin' one time en didn' 
give 'im er suttin kin' o' medersin, he died o' narvus proserashun 
durin' de night. 

"I b'leeve dat chile's 'sleep; dat '11 res' her. Yes, I knowed 
er gal wunst, er purty gal wid er bright complexshun, en she 
died en her sleep ob dish yere same fever ez Miss Rena's got. 
I wuz settin' by 'er jes' lak I is by Miss Rena, here, en I put 
out my han' ter feel ef de fever wuz leavin' " here Aunt Betsy 
ran her roughened fingers over Rena's forehead " en Ian' o' 
mussy ! ef she wuzn't ez cole ez ice en stone ded." 

A visible shudder ran over Rena, convincing Aunt Betsy that 
she had not shared the sad fate of the " bright complected gal." 



1899-] AUNT BETSY, CONJURER. 779 

A pause ensued ; and just as Aunt Betsy remarked that 
" de docter mus' er give Miss Lelia er new subscription ter be 
filled, it tuk her so long," that lady's step was heard in the 
hall. 

Rena welcomed her mother with delight, and although it 
was three weeks before she was up and about, Aunt Betsy 
was never again allowed full sway in the sick-room. 

One evening, during her convalescence, Rena was lying in 
the hammock drinking in all the beauty of her surroundings. 

The sky was of that clear, fathomless blue peculiar to a 
Southern spring ; the sun, now low in the west, shed a mellow 
radiance on the tree-tops, but, tempted by the freshness of the 
grasses far beneath, glided swiftly earthward to dance upon the 
greensward, leaving shadows hanging midway. 

The gentle breeze wafted to her the odors of jessamine 
and honeysuckle, and the sweet breath of the climbing rose on 
the well-house. 

A sudden thud thud close at hand roused Rena from her 
reverie, and looking up she saw Aunt Betsy approaching. 

" Good-evening, Aunt Betsy." 

" Good-ebenin', Miss Rena. How's yer feelin' dis fine 
wedder?" 

" Very well, thank you, Aunt Betsy. Oh, Aunt Betsy," as 
the old woman started off, " where is Ponto ? I have not seen 
him lately." 

"Ponto? Fur de Ian' sake, honey! ain' nobody tole yer 
'bout Ponto ? " 

" Why, no ; I noticed Brownie around you all the time, and 
wondered where Ponto was." 

" Well, I'll tell yer 'bout 'im den." 

Seating herself on the steps, she went on : " Dat ere darg 
wuz conjuhed." 

" Conjured, Aunt Betsy?" 

"Yes, chile, conjuhed." 

This in a most awe-stricken voice. 

" En I nebber will b'leeve but what dat scounrelly ole black 
Billy had er han' in it ; he 'clares ter gracious he didn' know 
nuthin' 'bout it, but I knows he's lyin'. I doan see how a 
pusson kin bring deyse'f ter lie." 

"How was he conjured, Aunt Betsy?" 

" Wait er minit en I'll tell yer all 'bout it. 

" De main reason why dey conjuhed 'im wuz caze dey wuz 
jealous o' me, caze Ponto wuz sich er fine darg ; he wuz de 



780 AUNT BETSY, CONJURER. [Mar., 

kin' o' darg what dey calls er Mertriever. Well, ev'y day mos' 
fur 'bout a week I foun' meat wid chopped-up glass in it under 
de scupperlong arbor, en I sorter 'spicioned dat conjuh's was 
wukin on Ponto. 

" Now I'll tell yer 'bout ole Billy. 

"'Billy,' sez I one day, 'look at de glass in dish yere meat.' 
' Sis Betsy,' says he, * dey ain' no glass in dat ere meat ; you's 
mistuk.' Dat wuz evidence 'gin Billy in my 'pinion, fur .dat 
meat, ez any fool could see, wuz jest chock full o' glass. 
Well, pres'nly dem conjuh's changed dey tactics ; dey 
thowed pisoned meat inter de yard ev'y night ; I knowed hit 
wuz pisened fum de looks en de smell. One night I heerd 
de dargs er howlin' en er howlin', en den sorter scratchin' 
lak at de gate, en de nex' mornin' Ponto wuz done gone. 
Honey, he wuz cunjuhed sho*. Ev'y night I hears 'im 
howlin' fur me in de pines beyon' Miss Sparks's." 

Rena managed with great difficulty to restrain her laugh- 
ter, and expressed her sympathy in a manner most satisfactory 
to the old woman. 

Pulling herself up with the help of the ever-faithful um- 
brella, she tottered off with a cheery good-night. 

Spring slipped into summer, and day after day George 
slipped off to the crayfish ditch, catching many a scolding and 
now and then a stray knock from the " Ancient," as Mr. Baker 
dubbed Aunt Betsy. Crayfish became a tender subject with 
her from the day George entrapped her with the song about 
them that every little pickaninny gloried in singing. 

" An' Betsy," drawled George. 

" What yer want now, Gearge ? " 

" An' Betsy" 

" Ef yer doan shet up sayin 'An' Betsy, An' Betsy' every 
minit, I'll knock yer down. Go git de meat fur dinner outen 
de refrigeratum." 

" An' Betsy, what yer gwine do wen de meat's all gone ? " 

" Shet up, boy ; dey's plenty o' meat ter dish yere house. 
We ain' no po' white trash ; we's quality, we is ; en ef hit wuz 
all gone, what yer speck me ter do?" 

" Drive de chillun ter de crayfish pon'." 

" Dar tek dat fur yo' sass "; and George was knocked head- 
long into the wood-box. 

" Yer oughten ter do me dat way, An' Betsy," whimpered 
George. 



1899.] AUNT BETSY, CONJURER. 781 

''Yes I ought, too; yer needs ter be kilt, Gearge." 
George, now meekness itself, moved off dejectedly. 

Thus things went on from day to day ; Aunt Betsy grew 
feebler, and George more fractious than could be endured, and 
it was at last decided that they must be superseded. 

A very black, active young girl was installed in command 
of the kitchen, and the " Ancient " was advised to rest. Great 
was the rejoicing of the family, who did not like insects in 
their food. But in less than a week the new recruit was miss- 
ing, and Aunt Betsy calmly resumed her interrupted sway. 

A second cook was engaged, but her stay was a brief one ; 
and the promptitude and zest with which Aunt Betsy resumed 
her functions aroused suspicion. On inquiring among the 
darkies it was learned that Aunt Betsy was regarded as a power- 
ful " conjurer," and had threatened mysterious vengeance on 
any person who should take her place in "Miss" Barker's 
kitchen. One discomfited intruder decamped, declaring the 
stove was conjured. She could not get breakfast until half an 
hour later than usual, but she did not think it was attributable 
to her having arrived in the kitchen at 6 : 30 A. M. instead of 6, 

" The Ancient " was sent for, and seriously admonished. 
Of course she solemnly denied the accusations of her conjured 
successors, whom she stigmatized as " fool niggers dat would 
rudder lie dan eat." 

A stranger from the country was next placed in the vacant 
post, and the old dame, changing her tactics entirely, made 
herself so agreeable and entertaining that the two became fast 
friends. 

Aunt Betsy still lives in a little shanty as shaky and ancient 
as herself. She hobbles over to the big house for her meals, 
and anything else easily attainable. She knows where the hens 
lay, and it is astonishing how many eggs she claims as pro- 
duced by her own small flock. She knows also where the corn 
and oats are to be found, and the key of the coal-house and 
laundry. Late of a winter's evening she is sometimes seen 
moving homeward with knobby protrusions under her shawl. 
If unexpectedly confronted, she explains that she came over 
''to drive her frizzle chicken outen de gyardin." Her dog 
wags his tail as if to confirm her assertion, and the two go on 
contentedly, to drowse before their open fire-place until the 
wee small hours. 



7 82 



CHARACTER STUDIES IN 



[Mar., 




CHARACTER STUDIES IN NEW YORK'S 
FOREIGN QUARTERS. 

BY E. LYELL EARLE. 

ONDON, Paris, Rome, Vienna, all the great cos- 
mopolitan cities, have their foreign quarters. 
These have ever furnished broader types for the 
novelist, the painter, and the student of social 
conditions. 

In the United States the city that affords similar op- 
portunities and types is New York. The fact that it is the 
great seaport of the country, and that thousands of skilled and 
common laborers are required for its vast industries, cause 
many an immigrant to make at least a temporary halt there. 
He instinctively goes to his countrymen, and often establishes 
a permanent abode. In time the numbers increase, the settle- 
ment expands ; he hears but his own language, or a jargon of 
English that gives rise to a peculiar dialect; national customs, 
social and religious, are transplanted thither and thrive, and 
soon we have a distinctly foreign quarter. As social and 
financial conditions improve, the more successful migrate to 
other sections of the city, and we have a higher foreign type 
evolved. 

Foreigners are indeed scattered through all sections of 
Greater New York, but to study the national types in all their 
primitive picturesqueness one must invade their special haunts, 
must see them in their daily living and doing. 

THE GHETTO. 

For this study no place is better than the East Side, from 
the Bowery to the river, and from Chambers to Houston Street. 
Thousands of New York's permanent residents never visit 
this locality, never see these types nor observe their habits of 
life. 

Time was when the Irish and German elements prevailed in 
the East Side, but long since it has been handed over to the 
omnipresent Jew, the dopey Celestial, and the less aggressive 
sons of the Caesars. But the Hebrew is easily king of the East 
Side. There thrive unmolested 'the most anarchistic lodges. 



I 899.] 



NEW YORK'S FOREIGN QUARTERS. 



783 




THE MASK OK DANTE. 




MERCHANDISE, 425. 




BARUCH, THE RABBI OF 
THE SWEAT-SHOPS. 



The picturesque mar- 
kets of Hester, Lud- 
low, and Essex Streets 
minister to the home 
needs of the myriads 
huddled into small 
apartments. Almost a 
dozen Hebrew and 
Italian papers appear 
daily with their extras, 
and Italian and He- 
brew theatres afford 
opportunities for 
amusement demanded 
by this heterogeneous 
class. 

To witness a sight 
that rivals any of the 
street market scenes 
of Europe in primitive 
picturesqueness one 
must visit the Hester 
Street market o n 
Thursday evening or 
any time on Friday. 
Former Chief McCul- 
lagh made several in- 
effectual attempts to 
break up this horde of 
street venders. But 
the Hebrew peddler 
would march off pa- 
tiently to the police 
court, pay his fine, and 
be on hand at the same 
spot to greet the police- 
man on his return. 
After all, there seems 
no good reason why 
the East Side masses 
should be deprived 
of their street mar- 
kets. 




GERMAN-JEWISH TYPE. 




RUSSIAN-JEWISH TYPE. 




THE ORGAN-GRINDER 
TYPE. 



784 CHARACTER STUDIES IN [Mar., 

Friday is the East Side Hebrews' market day. For, along 
with other characteristics, these people have brought with them 
the most intense orthodoxy of Jewish belief and practice. The 
West Side and North End Jew often makes little of the details 
of the Mosaic law ; but in the East Side almost every house is 
a synagogue, and all the nice requirements as to diet and Sab- 
bath observance are scrupulously carried out. Hence, on Fri- 
day enough is bought to last till Monday. Early Thursday 
evening the hucksters begin to line Hester, Ludlow, and Es- 
sex Streets from curb to curb. Everything that man needs is 
to be found there. Fish of all kinds, mountains of black bread, 
choicest meat, are all on sale. The scene is a very babel. All 
cry out their wares, and each tries to surpass his neighbor in 
lusty declamation. Men patrol the streets with cheap clothing 
over their arms, others strut up and down before their push- 
carts, women sit on boxes amid a confusion of cast-off clothes 
or cheap new ones. 

On the corner of Hester and Ludlow Streets may be seen 
" Merchandise, 425." He is a strong type of the vigorous Rus- 
sian Jew. His features possess in repose all the blankness of 
the most simple; when animated, all the shrewdness of a Shy- 
lock. He is an extreme type, inasmuch as he combines supreme 
stolidity with all the keenness of his race. 

BARUCH, THE RABBI OF THE SWEAT-SHOPS. 

All the East Side remembers Baruch Spinoza. He perished 
in a Houston Street fire in 1898. All the East Side mourned 
him, and to-day reveres his memory. He had grown to be a 
familiar figure in the stores and shops and markets where he 
daily vended his wares. He was the rabbi of the Hester 
Street district, and conducted the services of the Pasch, the 
Feast of the Tabernacles, and others in a low, dingy basement. 
Wherever he went he carried his " Thales," or praying-cloth, 
and would spread it at morn, midday, and sunset, and offer 
his petitions to Jehovah. 

It was while conducting a midday prayer in a Houston 
Street sweat-shop that the cry of fire rang out, and in an in- 
stant the small army of tailors rushed for the street, bearing 
the rabbi with them. But no sooner had the old man reached 
a place of safety than he bethought him of his " Thales," and, 
feeble with the weight of almost a century, he rushed back 
into the building despite the efforts of his friends to restrain 
him. Up, step by step, the four steep flights of stairs, he 



NEW YORK'S FOREIGN QUARTERS. 



785 



groped his way through the blinding smoke to where his 
" Thales " was spread. At last he reached it and bent rever- 
ently to gather it up. But already the smoke had almost stifled 
him. He fell on his beloved prayer-cloth, and there they found 
him when the fire was over, face forward, dead. 

THE SWEAT-SHOPS. 

The plague-spot of the East Side is the sweat-shop. The 
last report of the State inspectors shows over a thousand of 




POSSESSION is NINE POINTS OF THE LAW. 

these commercial cancers sapping the life-blood of the toiling 
poor. From sunrise long into the hours of the night the 
ceaseless hum of the shuttle is heard, telling out the life-energy 
of the father of a large, helpless family, or some devoted 
daughter struggling to sustain a widowed mother and depen- 
dent children. The garments that deck the thoughtless rich 
in gaudy grandeur are often the price of the life-blood and 
energies of the toiler. No time is given for meals. A hasty 
bite is snatched between stitches and cuts, and the merciless 
"boss" marches up and down, hounding on the men and 
women and children more cruelly than mine, field, or galley 
slave ever was driven at point of goad or lash. 



;86 



CHARACTER STUDIES IN 



[Mar., 




THROUGH THE HEART OF THE EAST SIDE. 
LITTLE ITALY. 

Close rivals with the Jews for the supremacy of the East 
Side come the children of Italy. The ordinary Italian re- 
mains longer in the East Side, is less aggressive, and fashions 
himself more slowly to American manners, but none the less 
completely, than does the East Side Hebrew. He is more easily 
contented and seeks for fewer avenues of commerce. 

The padrone is perhaps the cause of much of this indiffer- 
ence, for the padrone is king of the Italian quarter. He regu- 
lates everything for his countrymen, and relieves them of much 
care and more money. He writes their letters, changes their 
coin, secures them work, and receives a fat commission on 
everything bought and sold in his little kingdom. This class 
are all counts and princes in Southern Italy. 

There is pictured an extraordinary type of the Italian organ- 
grinder. On close study his features remind one of the Dante 
that Dore has made familiar to us. If a paper be folded over 
the cap and coat of the organ-grinder we have the very face 
of the grim author of the Divine Comedy. The artist has 
caught him in some of his best attitudes from the indifference 
of grinding out the tune grown painfully familiar to him to 
the deep, thoughtful mood when his mind wanders back to his 
" Bella Italia," in the Val d'Arno, where are the picturesque 



NEW YORK' s FOREIGN QUARTERS. 



7*7 




JUST OFF THE BOWERY. 



cottage and the 
vine-clad mount, 
and where were 
spent his best 
days, before the 
hand of sorrow 
and reverse smote 
him. All this and 
more he told the 
writer in the rich- 
est of rich Tuscan. 
His life is indeed a 
romance: his early 
college years ; his 
quiet, abundant 
home ; the days of 
the Revolution, 

when he cast his unfortunate lot with the rebels ; his exile, and 
his small but well-appointed home on the East Side, where he is 
raising up a goodly family of sons and daughters in American 
tastes and manners all this can be read in his expressive face. 
The artist has caught him in his daily living and thinking. 
He is a rare type, one worthy of study. 

The Italian quarter presents religious and social problems 
not existing in the 
"Ghetto." Religion 
among the New York 
Jews has degenerat- 
ed to a merely eth- 
ical or aesthe- 
tical culture. 
They are lift- 
ed up, as it 
were, albeit 
on a materi- 
al plane, by 
the absorbing 
passion of 
worldly suc- 
cess. This is 
their "cult," 
their god, 
their heaven. 

VOL. LXVIII. 50 




A FEW OF THE OLD STAGES REMAIN. 



;88 



CHARACTER STUDIES IN 



LMar., 




AN ANCIENT EAST SIDE TENEMENT. 

The Italian comes with his whole being dominated by reli- 
gious influences. It has been a part, the major part, of his 
daily life. All his social conditions and commercial enterprises 
received their tone from his religion. 

When he reaches Little Italy, one of the first things im- 
pressed on his mind is that he is free. The mere thought 
exhilarates him. For a time he gives himself up absolutely to 
a very dissipation of liberty, as he conceives it. But the 
awakening and the aftermath of excess soon come to him, and 
he looks around for the former supports of restraint, or gives 
himself up to confirmed indifference or excess. 



1 8 9 9-] 



NEW YORK'S FOREIGN QUARTERS. 



789 



Here is where religious and moral influences are all-power- 
ful. This makes the Italian Quarter a veritable battle-field. 
All kinds of philanthropic, temperance, and missionary societies 




have headquarters here. The various Protestant denominations 
spend all their effort and much of their money in enticing con- 
verts back and forth. Here, too, the church is doing some of 
her best work in New York. Fully a dozen zealous*priests are 



790 CHARACTER STUDIES IN [Mar., 

on a constant watch to keep the sheep-fold of the Master. 
The Sisters and Christian Brothers are caring for the intel- 
lectual and moral needs of the young, who are legion. Only 
recently a movement was inaugurated which, if judiciously 
pushed, will certainly be fruitful in good results. Open-air mis- 
sions were started, and at the several held thus far thousands 
attended who would never have gone to a church. There is in- 
deed a vast field here, that will be fruitful, barren, or choked with 
noxious weeds just as the care of it now is diligent or otherwise. 

CHINATOWN. 

One of the most forbidding quarters of New York City is 
Chinatown. There is a something dark and repellent about the 
average Chinaman that keeps people generally at a distance. 
Few ever penetrate into his home-life or see the more human 
side of the silent, solitary figures that haunt Doyers, Pell, and 
Mott Streets. The ordinary sight-seer generally confines his 
visit to a hurried walk through the streets and a few minutes 
spent in the joss house, restaurant, or Chinese shop. It takes 
weeks, and sometimes longer, to gain admittance to a Chinese 
home. Money is the only thing that will open the door or 
mouth of the silent Celestial. One of the things that most 
strikes an observant visitor, and that gives the place its cheer- 
less aspect, is the absence of women and children, the sunshine 
of every home and country. 

The Chinaman's life is the acme of monotony. Any time 
not spent in smoking, eating, sleeping, or gambling is passed 
in aimless w'anderings within the confines of a few narrow 
streets, beyond which he seldom ventures. At sunset the en- 
tire colony invades the Chinese Opera House, and sits stolidly 
watching the most humdrum of plays far into the morning. It 
is an odd sight to watch the hundreds of Chinese that invade 
Chinatown on Sunday from all parts of Greater New York and 
New Jersey, steal silently away late at night, carrying in a 
large flour-bag their mysterious supply for the coming week. 

The dirty red curtain that marks the presence of the Chinese 
laundry is familiar to every one ; and the greasy, " dopey " 
Celestial, standing under the dim light, his expressionless face 
buried in his hands, the pyramid of black hair, drawn tight 
from his low forehead as he holds communion with his dope 
god, is a figure that brings before us a type of humanity scarce- 
ly destined to contribute much to the progress of the nation. 

The writer recently enjoyed a long, pleasant conversation 
with Father McLaughlin of the Transfiguration parish. His 



I899-] 



NEV/ YORK'S FOREIGN QUARTERS. 



791 





SOME CELESTIAL TWINS. 

church rises like an inspiration in the very heart of Cl 
Certainly this is the one hopeful spot in that dull, dead 
With almost heroic patience the faithful pastor has seen his flock 
forced to seek a home elsewhere, leaving him the omnigenous 
invaders of the East Side instead of his loving, devoted people. 
No man in New York to-day knows Chinatown and the East 
Side in general better than the genial, learned, and devoted 
pastor of the Transfiguration. He will never desert his post, 




79 2 CHARACTER STUDIES IN [Mar., 

like the hireling 
of the sects, who 
long since has left 
his poor, hungry 
flock of the East 
Side for the fat, 
wealthy churches 
of the West Side 
and North End. 

THE HAUNT OF 
THE SYRIANS. 

In the south- 
west corner of 
New York, direct- 
ly over against 
the vast, feverish 
money mart of 
this city of Mam- 
mon, one may find 
the quiet Syrian 
colony. It differs 
much from other 
foreign quarters 
in New York. It 
is fairly clean. 
There is nothing 
forbidding in the aspect of the people or their places of business. 
There are women and children to add their cheery presence. The 
homes are clean and inviting, and the stores, where Turkish rugs, 
laces, perfumes, and tobacco are sold, display evidences of 
prosperity. 

The Syrians in New York number about two thousand, and 
ccupy Washington Street and the West Side cross streets 
from Greenwich to Battery Park. One of the features of the 
ace is the Turkish restaurant. A meal at one of these is an 
ordeal few Americans care to undergo. While everything is 
scrupulously clean, the dishes are all seasoned so highly and 
are so rich in oils and fats that our plain American digestive 
apparatus loudly rebels against them. Then, when the myste- 
rious hubble-bubble, with its water-bottle, hose, and bulb, is 
brought and the dark, coarse tobacco lighted, it requires a 
mighty knight of the weed to stand this supreme test. 

Native men, women, and children all smoke this hubble- 




A SYRIAN BARBER SHOP. 



1 899.] 



NEW YORK'S FOREIGN QUARTERS. 



793 



bubble. They say it contains no opium. But the supremely 
soothing effect it produces on them, and the positive pleasure 
pictured on their features while smoking, seem to point to the 
presence of some powerful narcotic. 

Two Syrian priests minister to the religious needs of the 
colony, and on public festival days the costumes of the people 
are picturesque in the extreme. 

These are the places where one may study intelligently 
types of life scarcely found elsewhere in America. They are 
paralleled but not surpassed in the foreign quarters of London, 
Paris, or Rome. There are evolving out of these apparently 
discordant masses types that are to share in the destiny of our 
own country. There is practically little police restraint here 
less moral supervision. 
Hence the need of the 
higher religious i n- 
fluences. At every meet- 
ing of the East Side 
lodges the most advanc- 
ed Socialistic doctrines 
are proclaimed. Children 
are nourished on 
them, East Side 
literature teems 
with them. 

Looking at the 
history of New 
York, one can 
boldly say that 
many of the sires 
of its present 
Four Hundred 
once disported in 
gamin savagery 
in this very East 
Side. Who shall 
say that some of 
the Four Hun- 
dred-to-be are not 
disporting there 
to-day in a state 
of equal barbar- 




? 



COSTUME OF MILITARY ATTACHE OF THE SYRIAN LEGATION. 




794 THE CHURCH IN CUBA. [Mar., 



THE CHURCH IN CUBA. 

BY E. S. HOUSTON. 

HE history of the church in Cuba begins with 
the discovery of the island, for Columbus was a 
true son of the church and in all the lands 
which he discovered the standard of the Cross 
was raised beside the flag of Spain. Reputable 
history now affirms that the strongest motive that spurred 
him on, in the face of obstacles that would have discouraged 
an ordinary man, was the hope of spreading the light of Chris-, 
tianity over lands hitherto unknown. Believing the earth very 
much smaller than it has proved to be, he expected to reach 
the eastern shores of Asia, to convert the Grand Khan of Tar- 
tary ; to reach, in his journey, mines of fabulous wealth, and 
with their proceeds purchase the Holy Sepulchre from the 
Saracen and restore it to its proper place in Christendom. 

THE CHRIST-BEARER. 

His sublime faith in his mission, his rooted conviction that 
the name he bore denoted him as the Christ-bearer, destined 
to carry the worship of the true God to lands beyond the sea, 
sustained him under every trial and strengthened him to endure 
poverty and suspense. Envy and malice, like death, love a 
shining mark, and a target so grand and so luminous could not 
fail to draw the shafts of malevolence. There have not been 
wanting those who would asperse his character and question 
his right to the credit of his achievement. Because there were 
notes of travel on unknown shores, rumors of enchanted islands 
in the broad Atlantic, and vestiges of strange flora washed up 
by currents from the west, therefore Columbus must have known 
of other discoverers in the field, therefore also must have been 
an impostor and deceiver ! 

Columbus has never claimed more than his due.. He has 
freely acknowledged his indebtedness to other navigators ; has 
referred, in substantiation of his theory, to the writings of 
Mandeville and Marco Polo ; to Vicente, a Portuguese mariner, 
and to his brother in-law, Pedro Correa, both of whom testified 
to having seen washed upon the shores of the Azores strange 
waifs from the West Atlantic. He may have heard of the wan- 



1 899-1 THE CHURCH IN CUBA. 795 

derings of Lief and Bjorn, but the fact remains that of all who 
heard these tales he alone was willing to dare the deed. The 
difficulty he experienced in obtaining countenance and assistance 
in his venture proves what was then considered the temerity 
of the undertaking. 

As the agent of sovereigns claiming pre-eminently the title 
of Catholic, Columbus, in taking possession of newly dis- 
covered lands for the kingdom of Castile, brought them at the 
same time under the dominion of the church ; for Spain, what- 
ever the shortcomings of her people or her rulers, has never, 
since embracing the true faith, swerved from her allegiance to 
the See of Rome. In studying the history of the church in 
Cuba it is well to refer to her condition in the mother country, 
whence her government and her hierarchy have been derived. 

THE HUMAN MOTIVE IN ALL CONQUEST. 

In reviewing the events, characters, and methods of mediae- 
val times we must not forget conditions altogether different 
from the present. The chronicles of nations from the be- 
ginning have been but the record of wars, conquests, and revo- 
lutions. As long, however, as the human element so far pre- 
ponderates in mundane affairs, the mild and kindly spirit of 
Christianity can work but as a slow leaven in the stolid mass. 
The church has always been militant on earth and her enemies 
have not been in all cases of the supernatural order ; often 
they are of her own household. This preamble becomes neces- 
sary as the opponents of the church are prone to cast on the 
Spanish adventurers the stigma of blood-thirsty cruelty, as 
though it attached to them solely as Spaniards and Catholics, 
when in fact it should be confined to neither. Search the his- 
tory of mankind, from the Zulus and Bechuanas of Africa, 
through all its gradations, to the Britons who have slain their 
hecatombs, the story is still the same. 

Reason, logic, and philosophy often went for nothing. The 
strongest arguments were the sword and the battle-axe. Though 
the teachings of the church were maintained in their purity and 
her precepts practised in perfection by many learned and holy 
men, by missionaries with hearts full of love for their God and 
their fellow-man, their numbers were but as the ten just who 
it was hoped would be found in Sodom. The great mass of 
their proselytes rushed to the combat with the cross in one 
hand and the sword in the other, and enforced their doctrines by 
the " argumentum ad hominem "/ their tenets were impressed, not 



796 7 HE CHURCH IN CUBA. [Mar., 

by the power of moral suasion but " vi et armis" and the ser- 
vants of God were powerless to prevent. 

LIBERAL IDEAS IN THE SPANISH MONARCHY. 

The early history of Spain indicates that the government 
was more liberal than that of the neighboring countries, as the 
Aragonese maintained much of the independence that had dis- 
tinguished their mountain tribes. The monarchy was elective, 
and the people participated largely in the government. By 
an old enactment the king was not entitled to the allegiance of 
the people until he had sworn to observe the ordinances of their 
constitution. The clergy were held in the highest estimation for 
their virtue and piety ; the church exercised an overwhelming 
influence in the government and seemed to be the centre round 
which the whole society moved. It was the guiding spirit in 
the great councils of Toledo, which formulated the laws and 
were to the Spaniard what the Witenagemote was to the Saxon. 
This gave to Spain a code of laws vastly superior to those usu- 
ally in force among a barbarous people laws which were just, 
humane, enlightened ; combining the wisdom of old Rome 
with the kindly spirit of Christianity. This peaceful and Cath- 
olic government was broken up by the constant encroachments 
of the Moors, till at length the Christians, defeated and scat- 
tered, were driven back to their mountains in the north. From 
this time their history tells little more than their constant wars, 
under many sovereigns of various dynasties, until the middle of 
the eleventh century, when two Christian states were formed, 
Castile and Aragon. They were quick to see in the divisions 
of the Moslem chiefs and the extinction of their most power- 
ful dynasty, the Omayyad, the opportunity they sought, and in 
the renowned Ruy Diaz de Campeador, El Cid of Spanish 
romance, the champion of their cause. Many of the smaller 
provinces were united under Alphonso of Castile and Ramiro 
of Aragon, and the two kingdoms continued to exist separately 
until their union under their Catholic majesties Ferdinand and 
Isabella. Both sovereigns acceded to the demand of the pope 
in adopting the Roman ritual, and Spain became the most 
faithful adherent of the Holy See. 

THE INQUISITION MADE A MEANS OF PERSECUTION. 

The political unity of Spain was founded upon religious 
unity. Both Ferdinand and Isabella were deeply imbued with 
the spirit of Catholicity, fostered and intensified by their long 



1899-] THE CHURCH IN CUBA. 797 

and incessant contests with Moors, Jews, and heretics, all of 
whom aimed more at the destruction of the civil government 
than of the spiritual authority of religion, and it was more in 
defence of the power of the crown than that of the church 
that the Inquisition was established. 

This has been a much-abused institution, and a name of 
terror to the enemies of the church. This is not the place to 
enter upon its defence, but it suffices to say that wherever 
politics and religion are too closely allied the opponents of the 
established church will be regarded as offenders against the 
civil power. Moors, Jews, and Arians were subjected to the 
penalties of the Inquisition because as such they were consid- 
ered traitors and rebels, combining as open enemies or secret 
conspirators to overthrow the established sovereignty. Philip II. 
possessed a formidable weapon in the Inquisition, which he did 
not scruple to use for secular purposes. Political independence 
in his reign was crushed with more relentless severity than 
religious dissent. Andrea Perez, a justiciar, or deputy, to the 
Cortes, from the province of Aragon, was brought before the 
Inquisition and condemned to death for no failure in religious 
duty, but for his fearless defence of the liberties of his native 
province. In so-called enlightened England it was no better. 
When Catholic Mary or Protestant Elizabeth condemned to 
imprisonment and death the professors of the opposing religion 
there was the implied conviction that as such they were neces- 
sarily enemies to the reigning power. 

DISPOSITION OF BENEFICES. 

Another source of trouble arising from the union of church 
and state was the question of appointment and investiture in 
religious benefices. This was a cause of contention in all the 
Catholic countries of Europe, and their Catholic majesties of 
Spain were not behind their contemporaries in claiming this 
privilege. Had they been content with investing the candidate 
with the temporal emoluments of his office, they would not 
have brought such disaster to the church ; but when they in- 
sisted on appointing the bishops of vacant sees and incumbents 
of important benefices, the result was discord and disedifica- 
tion. Wherever such benefices are conferred on political favor- 
ites or upon laymen there must inevitably creep in scandals, 
abuses, and trouble for the church. 

Both of these usurpations of authority were imposed in full 
force upon the church in the newly discovered provinces of the 



798 THE CHURCH IN CUBA. [Mar., 

empire. The Inquisition was established in the Island of Cuba, 
nominally for the propagation of the faith among the natives 
and negroes, but, like many other benevolent designs, was 
directed to very different ends. It was afterwards used to in- 
timidate rebellious colonists and to punish political offenders. 
From the middle of the seventeenth to the end of the eighteenth 
century the archives of the Inquisition are crowded with charges 
against native Spaniards, which were really grounded in politi- 
cal animosity and had nothing whatever to do with religion. 

THE HUMANE LAS CASAS. 

In 1511 Cuba was brought under subjection. In that year 
an expedition was fitted out in Hayti for the conquest of the 
neighboring island. The pious and learned Las Casas, then an 
inmate of a Dominican monastery in Hayti, determined to ac- 
company the expedition. He was present with the Spanish 
freebooters when the unfortunate natives were defeated at 
Caonao and massacred by thousands. Las Casas made stren- 
uous efforts to control the conquerors, but was unable to stop 
the carnage. 

Very soon after the conquest large numbers of missionaries 
came to the island, principally Franciscans and Dominicans. 
They obtained large grants of land, and priories were estab- 
lished at various points. The monks were loved and revered 
by the people, whom they befriended by every means in their 
power. The Dominican friars did much for the slaves, Indian 
and negro. Wherever possible they procured their emancipa- 
tion, and in thousands of cases redressed their grievances 
where they were unable to procure their freedom. 

There were also many convents founded, where nuns from 
the best families of Spain educated the daughters of the 
wealthy and instituted primary schools for the children of the 
poor. Las Casas established himself in Cuba and devoted him- 
self assiduously to the service of the Indians. He at first 
permitted himself to be appointed to one of the divisions 
(reparliemento] parcelled out among the Spaniards, with its 
allotment of slaves ; but soon recognizing the iniquitous charac- 
ter of the transaction, he refused to remain longer in such a 
position, and exerted himself during the whole of his life to the 
succor of these unfortunates. He made repeated voyages to 
Spain to obtain protection for them, interested in their mis- 
fortunes Cardinal Ximenes, who sent three companions with 
Las Casas to labor among them. 



1899-] THE CHURCH IN CUBA. 799 

Had all the Spanish adventurers been as humane and gener- 
ous as Las Casas, the history of the island would have been 
very different. Being essentially adventurers and only nomi- 
nally Catholics, their quest was primarily for gold and only in- 
cidentally, if at all, were they concerned for human souls. 

THE ROOT OF RELIGIOUS DIFFICULTIES. 

Coming later to the island, the Jesuits have labored faith- 
fully in Cuba. They have established colleges in Havana, 
Matanzas, Santiago, and Puerto Principe. The Lazarist Fathers 
have at least one monastery, and one in the neighboring island, 
Porto Rico. The clergy are as a rule excellent gentlemen, 
but seem to have lost their hold to some extent upon the 
native people. They are part of the Spanish establishment 
and wedded to the idea of the union of church and state. 
Here is the truth in a nutshell. Though there are in Cuba 
numbers of churches and many learned and estimable priests 
and bishops, the clergy are not regarded with the respect and 
affection we are accustomed to find in our own country. The 
Cubans, with the ardent temperament of their tropic clime, 
their sunny, light-hearted disposition, and an innate love of 
light and color, regard with more approval the gorgeous cere- 
monial of the church and her frequent " festa " than her moral 
and religious teaching. For these differences we must seek 
the cause in the second of the two evils mentioned as having 
been imposed by Spain on her colonies : the appointment to 
episcopal sees and other benefices of foreigners, alien in senti- 
ment to the people to whom they are to minister and chosen, 
often, not for their piety, learning, or other priestly qualifica- 
tions, but through political or family influence, through blind 
favoritism or partisan feeling. So appointed through the power 
of the crown, they must, if they would retain their seats, prove 
themselves staunch advocates of the measures of government, 
however repugnant to their people these measures may be. 
Between such a pastor and such a flock there can be no sym- 
pathy, and a pastor at variance with his flock can wield no 
influence for good. Divines tell us that between devotion and 
feeling there is no identity, but as long as human beings must 
receive their impressions, mental and spiritual through the 
channels of the senses, there must be at least a close connec- 
tion. We could not quaff with relish the crystal wave of 
Egeria through an unsavory vessel, though in direst need we 
might be forced to drink it. 



8oo THE CHURCH IN CUBA. [Mar., 

CUBAN CHARACTERISTICS. 

In proof of the antagonism existing from the beginning be- 
tween Spain and her colonies, it is stated in Cuba and the 
Cubans that throughout these centuries there has never been 
appointed a Cuban bishop ; that while the diocese of Havana 
embraces 144 parishes, there are but 22 pastors of Cuban birth, 
and no prominent position is filled by a Cuban priest. Such a 
state of things existing for hundreds of years must have destroyed 
the vitality of religion, though its outward forms have been 
maintained. The Cuban has the pride of the Spaniard with 
much of his tenacity of purpose, and by both these characteris- 
tics he is led to preserve his allegiance to the ancient faith, in 
which his fathers were reared, in defence of which they had 
shed their blood and given their lives, but which with him is 
now but a cherished memory; a creed which keeps alive his 
respect for the church, his veneration for the Blessed Mother 
of God and his patron saint, but which enters little into his 
daily life, and, by consequence, exerts little influence over his 
conduct. At the same time there is ample testimony to the 
natural and moral beauty of character among these people. 
They are generous to a fault, charitable to the poor and hos- 
pitable to the stranger within their gates. Bright and cheerful 
in temperament, they are quick to resent injury and violent in 
their anger, but, whatever has been said to the contrary, they 
are not addicted to the " ways that are dark and the tricks 
that are vain " of the heathen Chinee. The tribute that is 
paid^ to the Cuban woman, by friend and foe, is very beautiful. 
Cabrera, in his book on Cuba, above quoted, gives testimony to 
her loveliness of character, but concludes his article by citing 
words of praise from the pen of a stranger and an enemy : 
"It is not I alone who will defend her here that model of 
austere virtue and tender sentiments but I give the testimony 
of Don Francisco Campos da Filiu, an officer in the Spanish 
army, for ten years stationed on the island and at war with 
its people : ' The Cuban woman, with her rich complexion, 
regular features, and luxuriant hair, forms a perfect specimen 
of Caucasian beauty. Whether living in affluence, in moderate 
circumstances, or in humble poverty, she is always gracious 
and dignified in her demeanor, good and charitable to the 
poor. She is gentle, intelligent, industrious. Those who say 
she is indolent, self-indulgent, fit only to recline in a hammock, 
fanning herself, do not know the Cuban woman. Shejs a de- 



1899.] THE CHURCH IN CUBA. 801 

voted wife, a tender mother, a slave to duty under the most 
trying circumstances; on the battle-field she has followed hus- 
band or father and fulfilled her noble mission.' " 

THE HOPE OF RECONSTRUCTION. 

A people as noble and generous as the Cubans have been 
described by those who have visited their country and made a 
study of its conditions, have surely deserved a better fate than 
theirs has been under Spanish rule. Through many conflicts 
and scenes of devastation they have come, we hope, to an era 
of liberty and independence. Our own government, in dealing 
with the problem of their emancipation, will find itself con- 
fronted with many anomalous conditions ; there must be con- 
fusion, perhaps unwarranted and unjustifiable interference, and 
much mistaken policy. To free so suddenly an entire nation, 
which had for centuries been dominated by a foreign power ; 
to substitute for the fiat of an oligarchy the free vote of a 
free people ; to offer them, in exchange for the cold or care- 
less rule of a foreign ministry, the sympathetic and paternal 
guidance of a priesthood one with themselves in principle, 
feeling, and interest this is the stupendous task now laid be- 
fore the government of these United States. This is the task, 
in the latter portion of which our Holy Father, Leo XIII., is 
called upon to share. For the performance of this delicate and 
difficult office he has selected as his delegate the Most Rev. 
the Archbishop of New Orleans. 

SKETCH OF THE APOSTOLIC DELEGATE. 

Dr. P. L. Chapelle, Apostolic Delegate to the church of 
the West Indies, was born at Etables, Department of Mande, 
southern part of France. His uncle, a French abbe", was sent 
on a mission to Brazil and proposed to be accompanied by his 
young nephew, who had already completed his classical course 
in France. They came to Baltimore as the guests of the Sul- 
pician Fathers at St. Mary's Seminary, and here Mr. Chapelle 
was induced to remain and study for the priesthood. He made 
the course of philosophy and theology, but on completing his 
studies was still too young to be ordained. He took a position 
as teacher at St. Charles' College, at the same time preparing 
for examination for the doctorate. In 1864 he was ordained by 
Archbishop Spalding and took charge of the missions in Mont- 
gomery County. He was selected in 1869' by the archbishop to 
accompany him, as theologian, to the Vatican Council, and on 



802 THE CHURCH IN CUBA. [Mar., 

his return was appointed pastor of St. Joseph's Church, of 
Baltimore. 

In 1882, on the death of the Rev. Francis E. Boyle, Dr. 
Chapelle was appointed by Archbishop Gibbons to the impor- 
tant position of pastor of St. Matthew's Church, Washington 
City, at that time, as it is now, the most distinguished congre- 
gation in the United States. He more than filled the place of 
the great men who had preceded him. During his stay in 
Washington he took an active interest in all that appertained 
to church matters, and was recognized as a representative man 
in church circles. At the solicitation of Archbishop Salpointe 
Dr. Chapelle was appointed coadjutor of the See of Santa F, 
N. M., and in time succeeded to the archbishopric. Upon the 
death of the beloved and lamented Archbishop Janssens, he 
was chosen as his successor in the see of New Orleans. 

Being a fine linguist, as well as an authority in ecclesiastical 
jurisprudence, Dr. Chapelle is eminently fitted for the duties of 
his new office, which, as before intimated, will require extraor- 
dinary judgment, extensive information, and much diplomatic 
shrewdness. He has himself defined, as far as it is possible 
now to do, the lines on which he proposes to work. Speaking 
to a Washington reporter, the archbishop expressed himself in 
these words : " My mission is that of a priest as well as an 
American citizen. While striving to watch over the religious 
interests of the Catholic Church, helping the bishops in their 
work of reorganization, I shall use my utmost influence to help 
the government of the United States to succeed in the work 
of political and social reconstruction. I am indeed profoundly 
convinced that upon this success depends, in large measure, 
the social, political, and economic welfare of the inhabitants of 
these islands." 

THE PROBLEM OF ECCLESIASTICAL PROPERTY. 

Without presuming to dictate, or even to suggest, any special 
course in questions so intricate, we may be permitted to sur- 
mise what decisions may be reached by the ruling powers. 
The law and the Constitution of these United States prohibit 
the interference in any way in religious matters, unless these 
matters infringe upon the rights of private citizens or public 
property. To regard churches and church property as any- 
thing but religious matters is simply a contradiction of terms. 
They were, during Spanish occupation, held by government, 
but for the use and benefit of a Catholic people. The means 



1899-] THE CHURCH IN CUBA. 803 

for their erection came out of the pockets of a Catholic laity, 
and on the resignation by government of all claim the pro- 
perty should revert to those by whom and for whose benefit it 
was contributed. The plan pursued in many dioceses of Ameri- 
ca is to incorporate a board of trustees and transfer to this 
board, by legal title, all such properties and endowments as 
have been used for religious and charitable purposes under the 
auspices of the church. These parties being already in pos- 
session and conversant with the needs of the people and the 
character of the property, could then, under the supervision of 
the delegate, reorganize the establishment upon American prin- 
ciples. 

Until 1788 the whole of the Spanish possessions in the West 
Indies were comprised in one diocese, the cathedral city being 
Santiago. At that time the island of Cuba was divided, mak- 
ing a new diocese in the West, its seat being Havana and each 
bishop having under his pastoral care a number of smaller 
islands contiguous to his province. In 1804 Santiago was raised 
to an archiepiscopal see, having two suffragans, of Havana and 
Porto Rico. The good old Archbishop of Santiago showed 
himself, during the attack on the city and the threatened bom- 
bardment of Santiago, a most compassionate Christian gentle- 
man. He used his best endeavors to avert the impending evil 
and to prevail with both parties for the cessation of hostilities. 
Friend or foe to the spirit of revolution as he and his brother 
prelates may have been, they can but rejoice in the establish- 
ment of peace and the hope of returning prosperity. 

A GLIMPSE OF HISTORY. 

There is not perhaps a country in the world, certainly not 
upon this hemisphere, which has had a career so incessantly 
marked by attack, conflict, revolution, and invasion as this 
beautiful but unfortunate island. For the four hundred years 
during which it has been known to the modern world its ex- 
istence has been one of continual warfare. It was, from the 
settlement by Europeans, exposed to descents upon its un- 
protected coasts by French and Spanish buccaneers ; to siege and 
blockade by British men-of-war; Havana was twice burned to 
the ground by pirates ; once captured and held, with all the 
northern provinces, for nine months, by British troops, and 
finally, it has been in the throes of insurrection for the whole 
of the present century. In 1868 there was a general uprising 
and . a declaration of independence was made at Yara, and 
VOL. LXVIII. 51 



804 THE CHURCH IN CUBA. [Mar. 

another at Manzanillo. From the first named was derived what 
was called "The cry of Yara," of which we heard upon the 
surrender of Havana. From this time the insurgents have been 
virtually in possession of the open country. The Spaniards 
held the forts and all the towns were fortified. Across the 
entire island, from shore to shore, was built in two places what 
was called a trocha. This was a most formidable species of 
defensive construction. It consists of a clearing 150 yards to 
200 yards wide, cut through a dense jungle for a distance of 
50 miles. The roots, trunks, and branches of trees cut from 
the clearing are piled in parallel lines on each side, forming a 
breastwork as wide as Broadway and from 5 to 6 feet high. 
Outside of these comes a line of forts, and then a maze of 
barbed wire, stretched the whole length of the trocha, on both 
sides. One would suppose that such a barrier would be im- 
passable to horse or foot, yet Gomez, with 600 men, crossed 
one of them and returned in safety. 

Before the last outbreak, in 1896, Cuba was one of the most 
beautiful islands in the tropics. The deep blue of her skies 
rivals those of Syria and Palestine, and at early morning and 
at set of sun they are veiled in soft clouds of saffron and 
rose. The mountains that traverse the island, deep green 
at the ' base, verging to emerald as they approach the top, 
and covered with groves of palms, are indeed of the "ever- 
lasting hills." But the waving cane and fields of tall grass, 
that once adorned the scene, are now the scorched and 
smouldering ruins of flourishing plantations. The tropical fruits, 
magnificent ferns and other varieties of foliage and flower, that 
covered the land are crushed and blackened, while here and 
there among the trees black smoke rises from a burning 
hacienda. The royal palm, the most beautiful of the species, 
still borders the beds of streams that come down from the 
mountains, which " flow on for ever " ; they grow tall and straight 
as Egyptian obelisks and are crowned with a cluster of magni- 
ficent plumes. 

Now that peace has come, neither the soil nor climate of 
Cuba will be found wanting to restore the prosperity of her 
people ; but means are needed to rebuild the mills and machin- 
ery that were burned by the incendiary, to replace the cattle 
and teams swept from the land by the greed of armies. But 
more than all will she need to renew and revivify the faith of 
her people, for the church in Cuba is not dead but sleepeth. 




I^UGIFIED. 



BY REGINA ARMSTRONG. 



THEY brought Him to the Roman prefect great, 
In kingly robe and mocking crown of thorn, 
And judgment suffered He in love upborne. 
Attesting truth, He stands within the gate, 
Mob scorned. " What is Truth?" sneers doubt- 
ing Pilate, 

Then leaves the God of Truth to mockery lorn. 
Gaunt Calvary gleams afar, and through the 

morn 
Of crucifixion points the dreading fate. 

Thus, even we, Truth-seekers of to-day, 
In jesting dalliance throw our quest away, 
And hold the doubter's gibe, the cynic's 

sneer 

As tribute to our Caesared self ; nor hear 
The answer waiting where, beyond, outside, 
Truth mocked and scourged goes to^ be 

crucified. 




8o6 



BERMUDA. 



[Mar., 





BERMUDA. 

A BEAUTIFUL little country and winter resort 
is Bermuda, which fronts our Southern coast be- 
yond the Gulf Stream. A group of small islands 
nestling in the solitude of the sea, with coral 
reefs, rock-ribbed coasts, bold peaks and mantles 
of perpetual verdure, make picturesque scenery 
as well as a pleasant oasis in the broad expanse 
of ocean. 

Early in the history of westward navi- 
gation these islands became a station for 
ships going to the Virginias. 
It was Henry May who first 
landed there in 1593 and con- 
sumed five months in building 
a bark of eighty tons, while 
subsisting on birds, fish, and turtle. The islands had indeed 
been seen earlier than this by Juan Bermudez, but a storm pre- 
vented his landing. The next inhabitant after Henry May was 
Sir George Somers, who was shipwrecked there in 1609, and 
afterwards spent nearly a year in building a sixty-ton craft with 
which to continue his journey to Jamestown. Finding that a 
famine existed there he returned to Bermuda for sustenance, but 
died shortly after on one of the islands, now called St. George. 
The body of Sir George was sent to England, but his heart 
was buried where he died and a great marble stone, sent from 
England in 1620, marks its resting-place. Besides the original 
inscription in Latin, there are Latin tablets attesting the vir- 
tues of this admiral and the affectionate remembrance of his 
countrymen. 

The first settlers on the islands were from the Virginia 
colony, in the charter for which Bermuda was included. 
This part of the domain, however, was subsequently released 
from the Virginia charter, and a new one granted by James I. 
to the Bermuda Company. This charter expired in 1685 and 
the country reverted to the crown. 

These islands might have become Spanish at one time had 
the two ships of that nation which attempted to enter the 
Castle Harbor not given up the attempt too soon, for there 



1 899.] 



BERMUDA. 



807 



was left to the islanders but one shot and less than a barrel of 
powder. The Bermudians of to-day in referring to this inci- 
dent are pleased to remark : " Things are a little different now, 
however." 

In i82 these islands barely escaped also coming into the 
possession of Uncle Sam. The American Council, before whom 
the alternative of two propositions for striking a blow at the 
British was presented, namely, that of seizing the homeward 
bound West India fleet, or of capturing the Bermudas, decided 
upon the former by a casting vote. 

In 1795 Bermuda boasted of having a navy, consisting of a 
sloop and a gunboat. At the present time she has a fortress, a 
navy-yard, and a fleet of ships which is sometimes quite for 
midable. Bermuda is, in fact, a naval station for Great Britain's 
Atlantic fleet. The largest floating dock in the world is there, 
and millions of pounds sterling have been spent in cutting 
roads, connecting islands, and building forts. The roads, a 
hundred miles in extent, are the solid coral rock hewn down to 
a level. They are consequently durable as well as pleasant for 
use ; superior to any roads, perhaps, in the world, and for the 
modern wheel they are, as claimed, a veritable " cycler's para- 
dise." They are picturesque also, lined as they often are with 




IT FRONTS OUR SOUTHERN COAST BEYOND THE GULF STREAM. 



8o8 



BERMUDA, 



[Mar., 




luxurious vegetation, cedars and 
palms. The royal palms on one of 
these are very striking and constitute 
one of the road sights; but cedar is 
the principal wood of Bermuda. This 
tree is, however, a species of juniper, 
with branches reaching out and some- 
times quite irregular in form. In the towns they make an ex- 
cellent shade for the street. 

Bermuda was first used by Great Britain as a penal settle- 
ment, and then roads and the foundations of public improve- 
ments were laid by utilizing the labor of convicts. This penal 
feature finally gave place to the military functions which have 
ever since characterized the islands. Two forts and two light- 
houses have been constructed, a parliament house and other 
public buildings, and naval and military barracks. A military 
governor, appointed by the crown, is the ruler of the country, 
and for his accommodation there is a fine residence with park 
and military attachments. The officers and officials, with their 
families, constitute the society of caste, and it is not easy to gain 
access thereto without some very special introduction. 

But the official society is genial and of course brilliant, 
as all military circles are. The military band plays twice a 
week and is an attraction much enjoyed. During the winter 



1899.] 



BERMUDA. 



809 



months there is a large transient population, made up of health- 
seekers, persons taking a vacation in that season, and those who 
wish to escape the rigors of a northern climate. Together they 
make up an interesting and often merry company, while their 
expenditures form an important item in the prosperity of the 
islands, several large hotels and numerous boarding-houses 
being generally well filled for four or five months in the year. 

Communication with Bermuda is by steamer from New 
York and from Halifax. There is no regular steam service 
with England. Commerce and travel between the latter and 
Bermuda is by way of Halifax. Her principal commerce, how- 
ever, and passenger service are with New York. Bermuda pota- 
toes and Bermuda 
onions are known 
everywhere in Amer- 
ica, but other pro- 
ducts are sent also, 
with increasing at- 
tention bestowed 
upon the market- 
garden resources of 
the islands. 

Flowers are rais- 
ed in large quanti- 
ties, especially the 
lily. Large fields of 
them, fifty acres 
sometimes and more, 
are to be seen flow- 
ering in snowy 
whiteness and lad- 
ing the air with de- 
1 i c i o u s fragrance. 
Bermuda has been 
aptly called "the 
land of the lily and 
the rose." 

The soil is rather 
thin, but is fertile, 
being a mixture of 
coral-dust, leaves, 
and sea-weed. The 
farmers, however, do ROYAL PALMS. 




8io 



BERMUDA 




TOM MOORE'S CALABASH-TREE. 

not thrive quite as they would wish and as they deserve, 
actual distress sometimes taking the place of prosperity. Their 
repeated struggles against adversities of various kinds have com- 
pelled them to gather in agricultural associations and in a Pro- 
duce Exchange, which have proved to be helpful in evening up 
conditions and securing fair dealing with markets. A destructive 
parasite has visited their lily-fields and threatened destruction 
to that industry. This would be a sad result for the beauty 
of the place as well as for the fortunes of the farmer. 

As a winter resort Bermuda is unique. Perpetual summer 
reigns. It is not so hot as summer in the United States, and 
in winter the cylones and icy winds that sweep from this con- 
tinent are parried by the Gulf Stream. The towns are at the 
water's edge. Coral-reef circles abound a little way out and 



1 8 9 9-] 

break the harsher 
waves that roll 
inward, making a 
smoother sea for 
the boating so 
much indulged in 
all the year round. 
The water is so 
clear that fish can 
be seen at a great 
depth. Sailing 
without a boat- 
man, however, is 
not attempted by 
many, as there 
are sunken reefs 
that might be 
struck. The regu- 
lars know every 
inch of the waters. 
This resort has 
been visited by 
many noted per- 
sonages, some of 
whom have mark- 
ed endeared spots 
and given them 
renown in story 
and in song. The 
house in which 
Tom Moore was 
a guest is much 
sought by tour- 
ists. It is beauti- 
fully situated on 
lake and bay, and 
is known as Wal- 
singham. It was 
built of stone in 
1665 by a whale- 
fisher named Trot. 
The famous poet 
of Erin was guest 



BERMUDA. 



811 




LARGE FIELDS OF THEM, FIFTY ACRES AND MORE, 
FLOWERING IN SNOWY WHITENESS." 



812 



BERMUDA. 



[Mar., 



there in 1804, and a calabash-tree, immortalized by him, bears 
the initial A carved upon it by the present Duke of Edinburgh. 
It was of this spot that Moore wrote : 

" Oh ! what a sea of storm we've passed ; 

But bless the little fairy isle ! 
How sweetly after all our ills 

We saw the sunny morning smile 
Serenely o'er its fragrant hills. 

"Could you but view the scenery fair 

That now beneath my window lies, 
You'd think that nature lavished there 

Her purest wave, her softest skies, 
To make a heaven for love to sigh in, 
For bards to live and saints to die in." 




CEDAR AVEMUE, BERMUDA. 




BERMUDA. 




Near this spot are the Walsing- 
ham caves, which are famed for 

their beauty 

- r " w _. "-,, ~"S on account 

of the won- 
derful stalac- 
| tites that 
hang from 
t h e r o o f s. 
Most of these 
caves have 
salt water in 
them, but 
there is one 

having an earth floor from which rise stalagmites, that in 
some instances meet the stalactites above, giving the appearance 
of a pillared temple. With torches they present a beautiful 
effect. There are a great many caves in the various islands 
of the Bermudas which may be visited in boats. 

A spot much visited is the 4< Devil's Hole." It has a sub- 
terranean connection with the sea half a mile distant, though 
not with the near shore, from which it is only one hundred and 
fifty feet. The sea water rises and sinks in it with the tide, 
producing the noise of inrushing water at low tide that has 
caused the appellation of Devil's Hole to be given to it, although, 
curiously enough, its water abounds with angel fish. 

Hamilton is the largest town in Bermuda. It is the port of 
entry, the residence of the governor, the seat of government, 




SLOW TRANSIT. 



814 



BERMUDA. 



[Mar., 



and contains the principal official and public buildings, a public 
park, and an Episcopal cathedral. 

Back of this Gothic structure stands a small Catholic church 
which has, of course, a small congregation. There is a large 
building in Ireland Island which is used for Catholic service 
there also, and Father Parker celebrates Mass at both places, 
the congregation of one frequently going to assist at the Mass 
of the other. Here the Catholic soldiers of the barracks attend. 
This journey is an hour's sail on the bay. The church in 
Hamilton is capable of seating about a hundred and fifty wor- 
shippers, and is well filled on Christmas Day and at Easter. It 
is under the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Halifax. Father Parker 
is not only beloved by his parishioners, but is highly esteemed 
by all denominations there. When a Catholic fair is held it is 
opened with ceremony by the military governor amid martial 
music. The governor's initiative is the key to all success, social 
or otherwise, in Bermuda. 

In another direction within the limits of Hamilton, on Mount 
St. Agnes, is the convent where sixteen Sisters of Charity have 
a delightful and successful school. About two-thirds of the 
pupils are non-Catholics. The building is open to visitors on 
Sunday afternoons, and many an invalid wintering in Bermuda, 




I 59] 



BEKMUDA. 



815 




A TYPICAL RESIDENCE IN BERMUDA. 

Protestant as well as Catholic, receives the Benediction there, 
and has left thank-offerings for signal answers to prayer. 

One of the favorite Sunday resorts for guests after church is 
a beautiful natural grove on the North Shore near the military 
barracks, where the band executes an excellent musical programme. 

Bermuda entertained last winter many clergymen from Can- 
ada and Nova Scotia, chiefly Catholics. L'Abbe" Montminy, a 




A PRIMITIVE LAUNDRY. 



8i6 



BERMUDA. 



[Mar., 



French-Canadian father in the Convent of St. George, Co. Beauce, 
was a guest at Dorchester Lodge, managed by Catholic ladies. 
The father's health was very precarious, and he probably had no 
great hope. He was cheerful, however, but spoke little of him- 
self. He very much loved his convent and his pupils. By a 
single mail there came over sixty letters from his pupils, some 
of them tots, breathing prayers for his recovery. The father 
was deeply touched and wonderfully buoyed up by the incident. 




His recovery was rapid and he returned in the spring com- 
pletely restored to health and vigor. 

There is a touch of pathos in the number of invalids who 
winter in Bermuda. It is plain to see of many of them that 
they are as ships passing in the night. But the greater number 
are seeking to escape Northern climates too severe for delicate 
constitutions. Generally they are happy and jovial, living out 
of doors, walking, riding, boating, fishing, etc., and there is not 
a little gaiety at times, with the presence of red coats adding 
a pleasant touch of color to the scene. 

It is of interest to note also the colored people in Bermuda. 
They came originally from Virginia, but many also have drifted 
from the West Indies. There has been a tendency of late for 



1899.] 



BERMUDA. 



817 




"THE WATER is so CLEAR THAT FISH CAN BE SEEN AT A GREAT DEPTH " 

the latter islands to dump their poorest children into this lap 
of beauty, but property restrictions have been placed upon this 
movement. 

It can be said of the colored people of Bermuda that they 
are, as a rule, wonderfully clean, tidy, and intelligent. It is 
claimed by some that the scholars of the colored schools rank 
higher than those in the white schools. The principal of the 
Hamilton colored school is a graduate of Cambridge, England. 
One theory advanced in their behalf is that the summer climate 




C^THE BERMUDAS^ 



Seal* 



8i8 



BERM UDA . 



LMar., 



there does not draw upon their vital resources as in the case 
of the white population. Bermuda was once a slave country, 
but slavery was abolished in 1834. It was soon after that event 
that the American brig Enterprise put into the port of Hamil- 
ton for supplies, having slaves on board. The vessel was re- 
fused clearance until the slaves were brought ashore and liber- 
ated. It is recorded that one woman with five children preferred 
to continue the voyage. 

There is, however, one blot upon the habits of the Bermu- 
dians, if what was told was fully true. One wonders at the 
great quantity of barrels that are rolled out of every vessel and 
steamer unloading at the wharf. He is told that they contain 
Jamaica rum, and that nine-tenths of the money spent in Ber- 
muda goes for that commodity. It seemed incredible, and the 
fact brings to mind the large British traffic in spirits and opium 
with India and China. From the vast demoralization wrought 
by their means this traffic seems more inhuman than traffic in 
slaves. 





1899-] A CENTURY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 819 



A CENTURY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 

BY REV. P. FARRELLY. 

MERICANS travel extensively in France, because 
they find much to admire in that beautiful coun- 
try, and because too, perchance, there is a sym- 
pathetic feeling arising partly from the republican 
form of government and partly from a recollection 
of past favors. To us France is an intensely interesting coun- 
try, because its history during the century is very largely the 
story of planting in not very congenial soil the tree of Repub- 
licanism. The French Republic seems to have been a hapless 
child from the beginning. Its life has been scarred and seared 
by many untoward circumstances, and there are not wanting 
those who predict for it a sudden and unprovided death. 

AN INTERPRETER OF FRENCH CIVILIZATION. 

Mr. Bodley has recently written two portly volumes, and 
with a very large pretence of fairness reviews the history of 
French civilization. 

Very frequently throughout this work the author contrasts 
French customs and ways of acting with what the English do, 
or would be likely to do if placed in similar circumstances, 
and not once, as far as I can now recollect, to the advantage 
of the French people. Undoubtedly Mr. Bodley adopted the 
best manner of procedure to succeed in acquiring a good know- 
kdge of his subject and in fitting himself to write unbiasedly 
about France and its people, if such an end were easily ob- 
tainable. He went over to France, lived there for seven years, 
traversing it from one end to the other, associating and com- 
mingling with all classes. At one time he lived with a duke 
or an earl, at another with a member of the Chamber of 
Deputies or a parish priest ; again, we find him sojourning 
among the working classes or the tillers of the soil. He fre- 
quented places of amusement and public assemblies of various 
kinds. Indeed, his method differs very much from the course 
pursued by many other writers, when preparing to publish their 
impressions of foreign nations, who content themselves with fly- 
ing trips made to a country, then return home and publish their 
preconceived notions, formed from what they had heard or 
VOL. LXVIII. 52 



820 A CENTURY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. [Mar., 

read years before, introducing into their narrative here and 
there an incident of their own observation, or an anecdote, so 
as to make it appear that the facts are all of their own collat- 
ing and the ideas original. Mr. Bodley was broader in his 
views, more honest in his conceptions, even if not much more 
successful in his results, than such a class of flying critics. 

FRANCE A HERO-WORSHIPPER. 

Relying on his assurances, and judging from the breadth of 
the scope intended, many may take up this work of Bodley 
expecting to find in it a comprehensive account of the differ- 
ent phases of French life to-day. Any one who expects to 
find such knowledge in it will be sadly disappointed. With all 
his opportunities for study, Bodley has written his work to 
prove a preconceived opinion of his own ; namely, that France 
to-day is ruled and governed by the Napoleonic code, which 
code, he intimates, was taken bodily from the English constitu- 
tion. The whole centralized administration of France, which in 
its stability has survived every political crisis, was the creation 
of Napoleon and the keystone of his fabric (vol. i. p. 108). 
The day will come, he says, when no power will prevent France 
from hailing a hero of her choice. The republic, according to 
him, is a mere figment, the nation subsisting solely on the tra- 
ditions of the immediate past. This is his explanation of the 
now well-known phenomenon, that the very frequent changes 
of ministry produce so very little impression, and are regarded 
with such complete indifference by the country at large, solely 
because the people consider the Chamber as little else than an 
assembly for assessing and collecting taxes. Hence it happens 
that those sudden outbursts, which in the opinion of unin- 
formed outsiders threaten to wreck the Republic, pass off like 
a slight mist clearing before the noon-day sun, without leaving 
any traces. Mr. Bodley has partly succeeded in his undertaking, 
in proving that France is still the creation of Napoleon, and 
is living in his traditions ; but we would be slow to follow him 
in the last part of his conclusions, that France is only waiting 
for the opportunity when an individual of strong character will 
present himself, in order to cast her present makeshift govern- 
ment aside and throw herself into the arms of a king, an emperor, 
or a dictator. This conclusion can scarcely be the result of the 
author's own observations among the people, where, if he had 
made as close investigations as he claims his opportunities 
afforded him a chance to do, he would have discovered that the 



1899-] A CENTURY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 821 

people are tolerably contented with their present material con- 
ditions, and are very much averse to changing them for a 
monarchical or imperial form of government. With these latter 
they associate past recollections of strifes, wars, and all the 
hardships and sacrifices which accompany them. This is not 
denying that should some strong character intoxicate the sus- 
ceptible French mind by some wonderful feat, he might succeed 
in proclaiming himself a dictator. 

SUPERFICIAL RESEARCH. 

Mr. Bodley's readers soon become convinced that it was 
wholly unnecessary for him to spend seven years in France in 
order to collate the amount of knowledge which he furnishes 
in this work ; he might have collected the same kind of infor- 
mation without ever quitting Paris. Had he settled down in 
Paris for two or three months, read the journals closely, 
studied the French constitution, observed the customs of the 
capital this, joined to the extensive knowledge of French 
history which his work proves he possesses, would have sup- 
plied all the data for the volumes he has published. No one, 
in truth, would say his writings are so much the result of his 
own observations as of his researches. 

Mr. Bodley has chosen an ungrateful task ; France is great, 
not because of her government, but in spite of it. France has 
passed through many trying vicissitudes, and has emerged from 
all of them still great, still powerful, holding a foremost rank 
among (the nations; if by chance, through perverseness, she 
lost for a time some of her prestige, she quickly regained it 
and reasserted her former title of leadership among the nations. 
Mr. Bodley himself, with all his pro-English prejudice, is forced 
to admit that France is in the forefront of the nations, in the 
lead with England. These two nations, he says, are the leaders 
of the world. He fails, however, to give sufficient recognition 
to the power of the inherent forces of French national life, 
which operate to overcome the evil results of the sudden up- 
heavals. It is these native forces which produce that general 
good order, stability, and conservatism which Mr. Bodley is 
astonished to find everywhere throughout France. He follows 
too closely such men as Thiers and Michelet, seeming to ig- 
nore such authors as Balzac and Stendhal ; he scarcely quotes 
Balzac, Stendhal not at all. The Comtdie Hiimaine is a light 
thrown on French emotion ; Les Memoir es d'un Tourist e (to 
name only one work) eclipses the sputtering illuminations of a 



822 A CENTURY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. [Mar., 

thousand blue books. Mr. Bodley is devoid of poetry; he 
makes no reference to French art, his sympathies are with the 
harder truths. 

Much of the evil influences discernible in French public and 
official life to-day are directly traceable to the Revolution. 
The words Liberty, Ejquality, and Fraternity are to be 
found engraved on the walls of most of the public buildings, 
as well as on many private residences, in the larger cities, 
relics of that insane fury which well-nigh ruined France. 
Everything in those days was done in the name of liberty, 
whereas in truth there was no liberty, the will of the party in 
the ascendant for the time being supreme. As Charles X. said : 
" In France they do not understand at all what liberty is ; every 
one desires liberty for himself and for his own opinions, but 
restraint and oppression for others, especially for the clergy.*' 

FALSE CONCEPTIONS OF LIBERTY PREVAIL. 

The same erroneous ideas of liberty obtain in official life 
to-day, the government claims to hold the true conceptions of 
liberty, and whatever does not correspond with its ideas, no 
matter how perverse these may be, is opposed to liberty. 
Hence the existence of a state of affairs totally different from 
what prevails in most other civilized countries, a system of 
espionage which includes all walks of life in its ramifications. 
Religion is hemmed in and its sphere restricted. We wonder 
at the restrictions placed on religious celebrations or the re- 
fusals to allow public demonstrations of a religious nature. 
How is it that religion receives such treatment in a Catholic 
country ? This is the question which so many ask when they 
read the account of these happenings in the papers, and to 
which they cannot always get a satisfactory answer. A villanous 
system of intolerance is systematically carried out. Much of 
this spirit is directly traceable to the revolutionary period, when 
religion was prescribed ; a whole generation grew up without 
any ideas of religion. Napoleon saw the need of religion and 
re-established it with a view to suit his own purposes. The syste- 
matized intolerance of to-day emanates from the central govern- 
ment. The functionaries of the Republic seem to be every- 
where animated by the same spirit, which in many instances 
is the mere subserviency of position and place. French in- 
tolerance is different from all forms of persecution known in 
history, in that it is not only practised in the name of liberty, 
but it aims at laying official disability on established religion. 



1899-] A CENTURY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 823 

THE RELIGIOUS INTOLERANCE OF THE STATE. 

No direct vexatious restraints are placed on the Catholic faith, 
but a subtle, systematized effort is made to prevent it receiving 
recognition of any kind. Last June General Jamont, general- 
issimo of the French armies in case of war, presided at the dis- 
tribution of prizes at the College of Albert the Great of 
Arcueil, where his two sons are studying. The Guard Re"- 
publicaine played as the general entered the hall ; in his speech 
he took occasion to inveigh against the critics of the French 
army. Pere Didon, the famous Dominican, president of the 
college, followed with a long and animated address on the 
French military spirit. The whole affair gave great offence to 
the free-thinkers and their sympathizers ; the Rtpublique Fran- 
qaise, M. Melin's organ, vehemently protested against these 
speeches. A circular was soon afterwards forwarded to the 
commandants of army corps, stating in what circumstances and 
under what conditions military chiefs might preside at prize 
distributions. A town councillor heckled the prefect of the 
police on the presence of the band of the Republican Guard 
at Arcueil. Such is the much vaunted French liberty. The 
people's liberties are more restricted than are those of almost 
any other country ; they are hemmed in on all sides, laws and 
decrees are made and enforced regulating the minutest details, 
matters that would be left to common sense in other countries 
are subjected to statute laws in France. It is true they enjoy 
some liberties not accorded to the natives of other countries. 
A species of liberty amounting almost to license is allowed 
them in some things ; they are free to remain in the streets all 
night, and frequently do so, spending the time in singing or 
carousing in the cafes. But, on the whole, liberty in France is 
misunderstood ; the anti-clerical is a great fanatic ; always ready 
to accuse others of fanaticism ; he himself is the bitterest and 
most oppressive of fanatics. Under the guise of free thought, 
he would willingly prevent others from thinking differently from 
himself ; being violently and despotically narrow, he would fain 
stifle all thought opposed to his own. He is even more : an 
aggressive persecutor, a meddler in affairs which do not concern 
him. Should he happen to be a town councillor or other func- 
tionary of the government, he exerts all his influence to set up 
irreligion as the standard of citizenship. A government em- 
ployee is not always free to accompany his wife to Mass on 
Sunday. A postmaster in a western town of La Vendee, of 
Catholic fame, was one day surprised by a visit from a fellow 



824 A CENTURY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. [Mar., 

government official, who accused him of clericalism, warned him 
to beware lest it might reach the government and prove in- 
jurious to his prospects. " It has been noticed," he continued, 
"that you accompany your wife to Mass every Sunday; further- 
more that one of your daughters sings in the choir, another 
takes up the collection." The good postmaster was troubled ; 
fearing for his position, he went to consult his pastor. This 
good priest, conscious of the narrowness of the intolerant spirit 
abroad, said to him : " Tell your daughters not to take any active 
part in church affairs ; there is no need of your jeopardizing 
your position for such trivialities." 

SERVILITY OF GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS. 

The majority of the government officials advisedly abstain 
from attending church ; it seems to be a sort of official etiquette. 
President Faure has not been to church since he was seated in 
the presidential chair except on a few special occasions, and 
then he was present more in his official capacity than because 
it was an expression of his religious belief. When the Czar of 
Russia visited Paris, a couple of years ago, he expressed a wish 
to visit the church representative of the belief professed by the 
majority of Frenchmen. This was a stinging rebuke admin- 
istered to the officialdom of France. President Faure accom- 
panied him to Notre Dame in his capacity of head official 
representative of the nation, but by no means because he was 
grateful for this act of courtesy shown to his religion, nor 
because he recognized in it a public acknowledgment in favor 
of the religion professed by most of his fellow-citizens. On the 
whole, in no country is liberty so frequently invoked and so 
wantonly outraged. Only the other day M. Jaures, the Socialist, 
was derided by his followers for allowing his children to be 
baptized in the waters that came from the Jordan. The word 
God is expunged from the text-books used in the schools. In 
one word, every possible effort is made to rob men of their 
liberties under the false assumption of liberty. 

EQUALITY ALSO MISUNDERSTOOD. 

As narrow and illusive as we perceive the office-holding 
Frenchman's ideas of liberty to be, his notions of equality are 
even more erroneous ; in fact, his claims in this regard are so 
exaggerated as to convey an idea that Frenchmen do not con- 
sider themselves as belonging to the human race. De Tocque- 
ville expressed well this French idea of equality : " No one 
shall be in a better position than mine." Such was the cry 



1 899.] A CENTURY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 825 

of the Jacobins. The same was the watchword of Camille 
Desmoulins and Robespierre ; as some one expressed it, Liberty, 
Equality, or Death. The French want all to be on a level, are 
totally opposed in theory to one being placed higher or better 
than another. This levelling process would exclude all idea of 
superiority of any kind ; the holders of such opinions deny, by 
their own admissions, the existence of variety of talent or of 
physical endowments. Yet we must accept humanity as we 
find it; we cannot refashion nor remould it, nor add one cubit 
to man's stature. There is a vast difference in individuals, the 
talents which they possess or the physical qualities with which 
they may be endowed. 

THE PASSING OF THE OLD REGIME. 

The strangest thing connected with the rise and spread of 
this false notion among the French is, that it owes its origin 
to that very class which suffered most from its effects the old 
nobility. The French society of the old regime was immeas- 
urably superior to its degenerate successor. That was the age 
destined to change the history of the world, and produce revolu- 
tions ; little did the men and women who dictated the fashions 
of the day dream that society, and their own caste, in particu- 
lar, were being wrecked by those same philosophers whom they 
patronized. The unbelieving philosophers were lioni-zed by 
them, their sayings were treasured up and repeated at every turn. 
It was in the famous chateau of M. d'Holbach that Diderot 
planned his most audacious theses. Rousseau composed Emile 
for Madame d'Epinay ; Voltaire held court at Ferney, whither 
the noblest and most refined of French society went in pilgrim- 
age. The titled classes courted the non-believing philosophers 
to their own destruction. Still some of them have attained dis- 
tinction in literature: De Mun, D'Haussonville, De Vogue", De 
Broglie, D'Hulst, and before their day Chateaubriand, Lamartine, 
Lamennais, Barante, Alfred de Musset, Balzac, Montalembert. 

Though the levelling process of the Revolution has had dire- 
ful consequences, it produced some good ; to it may be traced 
that grace and refinement of manners observable among all classes 
in France. Co-education in the schools and lyce"es brought all 
classes together ; this intermingling, which was afterwards con- 
tinued in the army, had some good results. This assimilation of 
the masses has sent civilization farther down the scale in France 
than in any other country; hence the ease and grace of all 
classes, the air of comfort, the neatness of service, the excel- 
lence of cooking to be met with in the homes of ordinary 



826 A CENTURY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. [Mar., 

working families (vol. ii. p. 173). A man of low surroundings 
will astonish you by his knowledge of scientific points, and ex- 
press himself much better than men of the same scale in any 
other country. Industry, thrift, family sentiment, artistic in- 
stinct, cultivation of the soil, cheerful performance of patriotic 
duty and collaboration of woman in the plan of life, constitute 
the secret of the grace, the charm, the prosperity of France. 

Notwithstanding all this, and in spite of their vaunted love 
of equality, class distinctions are more sharply drawn among 
them than with any other people. Their system of travel, 
where these distinctions are so palpable, is of itself alone suffi- 
cient to prove this. Obedience, respect, social as distinct from 
moral abnegation, religious sentiment, discipline, self-devotion, 
are not in a flourishing condition in France. 

THE SHIBBOLETH OF FRATERNITY. 

The third member of this familiar revolutionary group has 
been equally abused with the others. Fraternity under differ- 
ent nomenclatures, as with us the brotherhood of man, is a 
familiar cry in many countries, meaninglessly used by fanatics 
of all kinds. In France it was not only used in a meaningless 
way, but as a cloak for barbarous cruelty. At the very time 
they were flaunting this war cry men were being put to death, 
former friends were led to the slaughter, brother was arrayed 
against brother. It was this anomalous state of affairs that 
caused Prince Metternich, who was reaching manhood at the 
time the French Revolution was erecting the guillotine as a 
symbol of brotherly love, to cry out in later life, after his visits 
to Paris : " Fraternity, as it is practised in France, has led me 
to the conclusion that if I had a brother I would call him my 
cousin." This conclusion must, however, be tempered somewhat. 
The French are an affectionate, chivalrous people ; to their 
eternal credit be it recorded that there is no word in their 
language for wife-beating ; rarely is a case reported to the tribu- 
nals of children leaving the charge of their parents to the parish. 
The Frenchman can be extreme in his hatred, and show his 
hatred. The discipline of war alone saved the Revolution from 
degenerating into an orgy of primitive barbarism. " We will 
make a cemetery of France," said the atrocious Carrier, " rather 
than not regenerate it according to our fashion." The French 
are at times intemperate in conversation and invective ; they 
will descend so far as to publicly charge one another with the 
most heinous crimes, such as that of following a degraded oc- 
cupation or other offences which, if brought into a court of 



1899-] A CENTURY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 827 

justice, would be tried behind closed doors. Much of this is 
an acceptation from the philosopher Rousseau, who was wont to 
inveigh with the keenest invective, or from Marat in the Ami 
du peuple ; Homo homini lupus. The atrocities of the Commune 
bear ample evidence to their exaggerated habits in this line, 
to conduct so unbecoming a civilized people. The journals of 
France, particularly of Paris, reek with infamous epithets, 
which cannot be found in the dictionary ; their reports of the 
parliamentary debates are full of such epithets. 

EXAGGERATIONS OF CHARACTER. 

This tendency of the French character to be intolerant, un- 
measured in thought and speech, is not confined to any one 
class, but extends to all ; we find traces of it among those 
very classes where we should least expect it. M. Dumont, of 
the Libre Parole, a conservative paper extensively read by the 
clergy, strongly anti-Semitic, wrote very bitterly about Count 
de Mun, who incurred the execration of the royalists because 
he actively espoused Pope Leo's policy. When De Mun fell 
sick he had this to say of him : " God has heard our complaints 
and has sternly smitten De Mun. He has said to him : ' I have 
given thee eloquence, and thou hast kept silence when men 
were waiting to salute thee as the champion of justice. Thou 
shalt never speak again.' ' He did, however, and he still con- 
tinues to be a conservative though fearless champion of religion 
and right. 

The Frenchman can dance and make merry in the midst 
of massacres and internecine strife. This is amply illustrated 
by public life during the Revolution and since. When men 
were crying loudest for fraternity their actions revealed feelings 
and intentions the very opposite to this spirit. In no other coun- 
try is such a cry raised for liberty, equality, and fraternity ; in 
none are they more wantonly violated or greater abuses practised 
in their name. Notwithstanding all this, the rank and file of the 
French people are conservative, sober, industrious, and progressive. 

INTEGRITY OF THE FRENCH CHARACTER. 

It is gratifying and astounding to find so much goodness in 
a nation that has passed through such depressing periods. In a 
great measure it may be said this is so in spite of the govern- 
ment ; there is an inherent force in the French character which 
enables it to finally overcome all difficulties and to ride tri- 
umphant over all obstacles at times when her enemies and 
even her friends felt that France had sunk never to rise again. 



828 A CENTURY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. [Mar., 

What is it that gives to France this vital power enabling it to 
weather all storms ? This is the question that has been fre- 
quently asked and not so easily answered. Mr. Bodley, while 
recognizing the strong qualities in the French character, is not 
so much inclined to give credit to these characteristics for the 
supremacy of French national life as he is to attribute it to 
the imprint of the Napoleonic genius, and to the general stable- 
ness which Napoleon's government impressed on the masses. 

After passing through frightful crises, blood-stained days, 
France emerged from it all firmly clutched in the grasp of a 
powerful intellect, who made France vibrate from one end of 
the country to the other, from the shores of the Atlantic to 
the banks of the Rhine, infusing his ardor and spirit into her 
soldiers, carrying her banner triumphantly through all Europe. 
He made her laws, gave her a cohesiveness and a consistency 
which has enabled her to survive the rude shocks dealt to her 
from within and from without ever since. We cannot fully 
coincide with this view of the question ; France was great be- 
fore ever she saw Napoleon. There are innate qualities in the 
French character which are not of recent growth, that consti- 
tute her greatness. The French mind is very methodical ; this 
is noticeable even in the unmatured, untrained minds of the 
school children, those of the primary grades giving proof of a 
remarkable precision and method for their years. The French 
are influenced by tradition, and although a general unrest is 
observable in the higher government circles so much so, in fact, 
that all their presidents have resigned except the one who was 
shot still there is a great stableness of routine government 
throughout the country. It is not unusual to find the same 
man mayor of his borough for from thirty to forty years, un- 
der the varying dynasties of empires, kingdoms, and republics. 
The French have not completely forgotten the glories of Louis 
XL, Henry IV., Louis XIV., nor the importance of their na- 
tion in those days. All classes, both of the clergy and people, 
are outwardly very respectful to their ministers and public 
functionaries. This is a relic of the past, when all classes 
were expected, in fact obliged, to show great respect to all 
public functionaries and ministers. 

The French have great respect for the rights of property. 
This is one of their cherished claims, the right of each individ- 
ual to his possessions and to his belongings. This is the more 
agreeably surprising that they have been so long taught to look 
on property as robbery La propriett est la vol. There are com- 
paratively few discussions or lawsuits about property in France. 



i 8Q9-] A CENTUXY OF CIVILIZATION IN FKANCE. 829 

THE CHASTENING INFLUENCE OF THE PRIESTHOOD AND THE 

SCHOOLS. 

The stability of France to-day is largely attributable to the 
wholesome influence of the priests, the discipline of the army, 
and the teachings of the professors in the higher schools of 
learning. Mr. Bodley draws attention to these wholesome in- 
fluences, but fails to give them due recognition. The priests of 
France are an exemplary, devoted, self-sacrificing body of men 
whose energies are directed to the maintenance of law and 
order. The beneficial effects of their example and teaching are 
seen to best advantage in the towns and country districts, 
where they receive the most respect ; for while unrest and tur- 
moil exist in the large cities, the country districts and towns 
remain conservative and stable. 

The discipline of the army impresses the soldiers with clear 
notions of order and obedience. All the young men of the coun- 
try are compelled to serve a specified time in the army ; at 
the end of their years of service they return to their homes, 
bringing with them strong convictions of their rule of duty as 
prescribed by law, which influence them during life and react 
on their surroundings. 

The professors of schools, lyc<es, and colleges, a devoted 
set of men poorly paid, continue, with few exceptions, to instil 
into the minds of their scholars true notions of justice, re- 
spect for the rights of others, a love of country, and a great 
reverence for the laws of the land. 

France is greatly indebted to the chastening influences pro- 
duced by these causes for much of the stability and contented- 
ness to be met with everywhere throughout the country. 

NEGLECT OF THE BALLOT. 

If, then, we find so much to admire in the French character, 
so many noble traits, so strong a love for stable government, 
how are we to explain these sudden ebullitions which cast the 
country into a ferment and endanger its national life ? Or what 
explanation is to be given for the notorious fact that, although 
the country is overwhelmingly Catholic, the Catholic religion is 
studiously ignored and despised ? Various reasons might be 
advanced in answer to these questions, but at present the prin- 
cipal one seems to be the indifference of the people in things 
political. The government is well aware of this indifference 
and treats the masses in consequence, insulting them at will, 
who, if they would only unite for the common good, could 
overturn it at will. The abstention of the better class of 



830 A CENTURY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. [Mar., 

Frenchmen from politics, combined with the growing material- 
ism of the ruling classes, cannot be viewed with indifference. 
Frenchmen seem not to know the power or value of the ballot, 
nor to prize the privileges of their franchise ; many of them 
would not miss an excursion for the sake of voting. The gov- 
ernment alone is politically active. This activity is as pernicious 
as it ever was at any time during the empire ; all its function, 
aries, judges, collectors, schoolmasters, road inspectors, etc., do 
campaign work for the government candidate. Most infamous 
means are adopted to increase the vote of their candidate ; dead 
men vote in battalions. In 1893 at Toulouse, for instance, the 
register contained three thousand fictitious names ; these dead- 
heads voted as one man. There was no cry raised against this 
infamous proceeding. There is no bustle at the approach of, 
or on the day of an election, except among the candidates and 
their immediate partisans, and the party press. Men do not 
stop one another in the streets to discuss the issues nor to ex- 
press their preferences for one or other of the candidates. The 
elections are very corrupt, money is freely used. The contest- 
ing deputies publish all they know about one another ; nay, even 
at times more than they do know. They will even go so far as to 
encroach on the private life of their opponent, telling whether 
he pays his bills, whether his domestic life is happy or not. 

POLITICS IN UNWORTHY HANDS. 

Politics have driven most of the able men out of public life. 
We no longer find in the French Chamber the class of able men 
who formerly trod its halls ; the Chamber is not representative 
enough of the manufacturing and professional classes ; there 
are too many small men in it of the low professional type. The 
priests scarcely meddle in politics, although we occasionally 
hear of a deputy being dispossessed on the plea of undue in- 
fluence ; while in truth if elections were to be challenged in 
other countries for the same amount of clerical influence, very 
few would go unchallenged into the house of representatives of 
any country. 

Politics are controlled by groups ; they are in nowise 
directed by party lines, as in America. A man may be and fre- 
quently is replaced by his own group, and not by the opposi- 
tion ; Gambetta was dethroned by his own followers, so were 
also Jules Ferry and many others. This condition of affairs in 
France fully exemplifies the saying of Montesquieu : the tyranny 
of a prince is not more ruinous for a state than public indif- 
ference to the common weal in a republic. 



1899-] A CENTURY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. 831 

THE GREGARIOUS FRENCHMAN. 

This indifference on the one hand and excessive activity on 
the other explain the abnormal state of affairs existing in 
France to-day : a government of the few making laws for the 
many, laws which deprive the majority of the people of their 
most cherished liberties, in many instances robbing them of 
their most sacred treasures. Yet the people appear to suffer 
on, contenting themselves with an occasional growl. French 
patriotism is very exclusive ; the Frenchman is contented no- 
where but in France there he is industrious and saving. 
Frenchmen are loyal in their nationality, have almost a blind 
confidence in their government and army, which they are led 
to believe makes a nation respected or ignored. Because of 
these characteristics they are not successful colonizers. Conse- 
quently, to meet the needs of the increase in population, patri- 
monies have been divided and subdivided until there is no 
longer any room for division ; the holdings are very small, hence 
the general unwillingness observable to have large families and 
the consequent non-increase of population. The smallness of 
the possessions, in many cases, increases the appetite of the 
male portion of the population for government employment. 
The government caters to this taste by the multiplication of 
positions, in order to increase its own clientage. The absence of 
a colonizing spirit, which would furnish an outlet for the surplus 
population, is hampering France in its progressive movements. 
The government is only too anxious to foster a spirit of 
colonization ; whether its object be to increase its possessions, 
and with them the opportunities for the inhabitants to secure 
a livelihood, or to distract the attention of the nation from its 
own misdoings, it is not for us to say. The fact is, the govern- 
ment gives all the encouragement possible to those who show 
a disposition to colonize. The Due d'Uzes, who developed a 
taste for foreign travel and colonization, was lauded by the 
government ; a representative of the government was in atten- 
dance at his funeral, although he belonged to that hated loyal- 
ist party, and notwithstanding the fact that it was his mother 
who gave $600,000 to Boulanger, the scheming enemy of the 
Republic. But all to no purpose ; the French cling to their 
beloved France. 

All in all, it is difficult to speculate on, or attempt 
to account for, the sudden changes which have been suc- 
ceeding each other with lightning rapidity in that much 



832 A CENTUXY OF CIVILIZATION IN FRANCE. [Mar. 

abused country. Nothing, in truth, explains them unless it be 
the very suddenness of these changes, the unpreparedness of 
the people for these changes, and the volatile character of the 
inhabitants. After being buffeted by the stormy winds of trial 
governments, the French finally cast themselves into the arms 
of one of their own making, whose personality was such 
that it has left it difficult for ordinary mortals to succeed him. 
They look for various qualities in their ruler ; some want him 
to be of the bourgois class, others that he be of noble extrac- 
tion, others again that he be a mixture of both, capax imperil nisi 
imperasset. They make fun of their rulers in a light-hearted, 
thoughtless manner ; in places of public amusement the vanities 
of Felix Premier are held up to ridicule night after night 
without a word of protest or a shudder of resentment. A 
popular singer has only to call Mile. Faure the Dauphine to 
be greeted with roars of appreciative laughter. When the Czar 
visited France, his meeting with President Faure was styled the 
meeting of the two emperors, Flix and Nicholas. The French 
are a diplomatic race, trained in its traditions ; their language 
is the diplomatic language ; all this tends to increase the diffi- 
culty of pleasing them with a ruler. The discussions and 
bitter recriminations of the Seize May have left embittered 
feelings, both among the ultra-republicans and clericals or con- 
servatives, which it will take time to heal. These recriminations 
would, it seems, have disrupted France long since were it not 
for the cohesiveness given to it by the family life of the 
country, which is strong and sacred. The French have a great 
family love ; this family feeling is the root and foundation of 
their national life. 

The policy of Leo XIII. towards France has been to con- 
secrate and solidify the legitimate aspirations of the people 
for freedom and nationality. Catholic France has too long been 
identified with the monarchy, and of a necessity placed in op- 
position to the Republic. This attitude has prevailed very 
much to the detriment of religion. Leo says, " Accept the 
Republic and better it." In this lies the secret of the regenera- 
tion of France. The French people are Catholic to the heart's 
core, and can be nothing else. A large element of this Catho- 
lic spirit must be infused into the official circles. The best 
flowering of the Leonine policy in France will be peace for the 
Church, freedom for religious teaching, higher standards of pub- 
lic morality, and a perpetuation of the prestige of France into 
the century that is coming. 




The Catechism of Rodez, explained in the form of 
sermons by the Abb Luche,* is translated in the 
book before us by the Rev. John Thein. The 
Bishop of Cleveland recommends this work in very 
distinct terms, and we take his approval as proof 
of the correctness of the translation. The original work has 
been for the last forty years a standard source of reference for 
the clergy and laity of France. It has gone through fourteen 
editions, and in Europe the word " edition " means a good deal 
more than the word " issue." The author's object was to sum 
up the points of doctrine condensed in such a manner from the 
Catechism of Rodez that the preacher might be able to go over 
them all in the course of four years. He has availed himself 
of the assistance of the most accredited catechists and supported 
himself by the contemporary theology of Gousset and Gury. 
The book can be relied upon for its soundness, since it received 
in manuscript the favorable judgment of the " Committee on 
Books " of the diocese of Rodez, and in further confirmation 
the approbation of Monsiegneur Delalle, the Bishop. 

The Catechism is divided into four parts : 1st, Faith and the 
Creed ; 2d, Hope and Prayer ; 3d, Charity and the Command- 
ments ; 4th, Grace and the Sacraments. As a specimen of the 
excellence of the treatment of his subjects we take at the very 
first Abb Luche's method of handling the matter of faith. 
The reader will see at once what a resemblance it bears to the 
clear and luminous presentation of the subject in Cardinal 
Manning's Interior Mission of the Holy Ghost. It is, indeed, in 
some respects more condensed than in the last-named work ; 
but so far from losing attractiveness by that, this quality is en- 
hanced for Abb Luche's purpose by a system of sub-headings. 
These headings state a point of doctrine, a quality, or a use in 
a manner to fix them in the preacher's memory, and so to serve 
as a centre for the others to revolve around. However, he does 

* The Catechism of Rodez. By Rev. John Thein. St. Louis, Mo. : B. Herder. 



834 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar., 

not always follow this system throughout the work. Where 
paragraphs and divisions of these are the natural aids to re- 
flection and memory, he employs them ; and finally, every in- 
struction is almost interwoven with texts of Scripture. It is, we 
think, impossible to speak too highly of the work, and of the 
debt due by American priests and laymen to Father Thein for 
translating it. To priests particularly, who have not much time 
for the preparation of sermons and catechetical instructions, 
the volume is of very great value. Every address is cast in 
such a way that it may be made either a sermon or a cateche- 
tical instruction, as the reader pleases. He has this in his power 
from the form of the address, which by the unity of the sub. 
ject, the connection of the ideas, and the uniformity of the 
style enable him to widen out the scope of the ideas expressed 
by combining them with others suggested in a very direct way 
from themselves, or by some of the one thousand links of asso- 
ciation which unite all the ideas of a particular subject into one 
group. 

We are not going beyond the bounds of just praise when 
we say that the hard-working parish priest possesses in this 
book a little library under his eye and hand. No doubt, for 
the use we refer to, a certain amount of reflection is necessary, 
but not anything like the time which would be spent in com- 
mitting to memory the substance of the very sermon a man 
himself had written. We shall conclude this notice by saying 
we are again reminded of Cardinal Manning's book above men- 
tioned by the treatment of Grace and the Sacraments, and this 
is about the highest praise we can give the explanation of 
Christian Doctrine before us. 

Impressions and Opinions, by Walter Lecky.* The papers 
called by the title of this notice need very little commendation. 
The versatility of the writer is recognized in this country and 
in England, and we have evidence of that quality in this little 
book. Though there is a sort of unity in the subjects which 
may be said to refer them to one leading literary principle, 
namely, the art of criticism, they are still independent enough 
of each other to give variety of entertainment. The style is 
sometimes homely with a characteristic sharpness which re- 
minds one of Crabbe, but not unfrequently, when the theme 
has stirred the subtler springs within the writer, it becom< 
eloquent, dignified, or pathetic. We have instances both of the 

* Boston : Angel Guardian Press. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 835 

Crabbe-like rough sagacity and of the acuteness of criticism and 
exactness of diction in the essays entitled " A New Poet," " A 
Second Book," "Just a Little Book," and "An Irish Singer." 
He is very Crabbe-like in " Amiel and Pessimism " ; and that 
means he has good sound sense and a knack of making people 
see that shams are to be honestly despised and put down, in- 
stead of being treated with indulgence or possibly looked upon 
as chivalries. The paper entitled " M. Zola and his Art " is 
trenchant and that on " Catholic Literature " admirable. By 
the way, he makes an observation in it which is, of course, as 
true as anything can be, namely, that in England "a prohibi- 
tion was placed on Catholic books." ..." Yet our Catholic 
forefathers fought strenuously against intellectual death." The 
first proposition says quite enough of the policy of English- 
speaking Protestantism, the second is a vindication of that love 
of learning which seems an inheritance of the Catholic. We 
have heard Catholics in this country who happened to possess 
the little education symbolized by a degree in arts attribute 
the backwardness of Catholics to ignorance of the new philo- 
sophy, just as if there were such a thing as new philosophy 
at all. Philosophy is the science of causes, and not the classi- 
fication of instances or the report of experimental results. The 
modern man of science makes the mistake of confounding 
philosophy with theory, and so his half-taught disciples wipe 
away the Greek and Latin schools with the unknown systems of 
Egypt and the East inherited by them, wipe away the almost 
inspired application of the teaching of those schools by means 
of which the Fathers of the church and the Schoolmen antici- 
pated and solved every question that now disturbs society. 
We are obliged to Walter Lecky for the two remarks we have 
quoted, if only because they have given the opportunity to ex- 
press our scorn and contempt of the half-taught Catholic of the 
public school and the degree-conferring body of a lecture in- 
stitute called a college, who believes that "culture" is non- 
Catholic, but fears that wisdom is Catholic. 

The Cup of the Tregarvans, by Frances I. Kershaw.* The 
writer is Sister Isabelle, author of Mrs. Markhams Two Nieces 
and other works; and she gives us in this story a vivid picture 
of the evils of intemperance. By the command of an admira- 
ble style and the possession of much knowledge of old family 

* The Cup of the Tregarvans. By Frances I. Kershaw. London : R. & T. Washbourne ; 
New York : Benziger Bros. 

VOL.LXVIII. 53 



836 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar., 

history and old usages she lifts her " novel with a purpose" 
out of the dry leaves of that species of composition. We were 
refreshed by the writer's modesty as much as we were pleased 
by the easy grace with which she flung an interest on incidents 
commonplace enough, and the exercise of habits degrading and 
disgusting to the last degree. The tale is written in the hope 
it will do good. We ask for it a hearing. It deserves one 
for the success with which the writer triumphs over the diffi- 
culty of an uninviting subject, and for the benevolence which 
opened to the wretched drunkard a life of repentance without 
impairing the value of the lesson inculcated in the shame and 
violence of his early days. 

Let no Man put Asunder p , by Josephine Marie,* is a very 
clever story by the author of Love Stronger than Death, and 
one that can be safely recommended for its sound knowledge 
and moral elevation. It would hardly be fair to indicate the 
points of the story we prefer that our readers should go to 
the book itself for these, but there are some of the circum- 
stances what in illustrative painting is called the decorative 
side which we shall notice because they afford tokens of the 
ability of the author. The first chapter, what might in a play 
be called the first scene of the first act, opens in a hospital, 
where a young girl is found in attendance on her dying mother. 
She is a clever and accomplished girl of good birth, but only 
seventeen, and when the mother dies there is no protector. 
The physician who attended the mother, Dr. Thorndale, takes 
a great and compassionate interest in the orphan. Esperance 
is her name. He takes her to his home he is in leading prac- 
tice and Mrs. Thorndale, the doctor's wife, and his two sons, 
Donaldson and Anselm, receive her, and she becomes one of 
the family. The Thorndales are Episcopalians ; Esperance is a 
Catholic, with but one friend in New York who had known her 
in childhood in England, the Jesuit now of Sixteenth Street, 
Father Searlington. Dr. Thorndale, suspecting his protegee is 
pining, calls on Father Searlington, and carries him off to din- 
ner to meet Esperance. 

From this time life moves in Dr. Thorndale's family in a 
round of quiet, well-bred repose ; the doctor at his practice, 
the boys at their studies, and the guest now to all intents and 
purposes an adopted child, and the gracious wife and mother 
shedding around the influence of a gentle and noble character. 

* Let no Man put Asunder. By Josephine Marie. New York : Benziger Brothers. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 837 

The respective dispositions of the boys, or rather of the young 
men, are drawn with remarkable force and precision. Donald- 
son falls in love with Esperance, who returns his affection, but 
he goes to Paris to finish his studies for the medical profession 
without making known his sentiments. He prosecutes them 
with distinguished success. A curious complication arises it 
seems a little far-fetched, to be sure but as a result of it an 
advertisement and a paragraph appear in the New York 
Herald, the first announcing, the second giving details, of a 
rather peculiar kind, of the marriage of Donaldson Thurston 
Thorndale and Marienette L'Estrange, at the English chapel 
in the Rue d'Alma. It was known from Donaldson's letters 
that his intimate friend was a student of great promise named 
Pierre L'Estrange. It is well to bear in mind that the old 
doctor had died before Donaldson's departure for Europe, and 
both Anselm and Esperance were anxious to keep from the 
mother the intelligence which appeared in the paper. 

Believing that Donaldson was married, though she found it 
difficult to think him capable of disloyalty, Esperance agrees 
to marry Anselm. There was deep treachery towards his 
brother in the conduct of Anselm. A slight but suggestive 
study of the descent of a weak and attractive character from 
selfishness to dishonor marks this stage of Anselm's wooing. 
The marriage takes place, Donaldson returns home. At his 
unexpected entrance Anselm becomes deadly pale. The former 
notices this, but for the time passes it by as without signifi- 
cance. Other circumstances point to a mystery, which is finally 
revealed by the determination of Donaldson, doubtless inspired 
by the instinct of affection, to find out the truth. Then comes 
the silent tragedy of a life which, under the influence of reli- 
gion and suffering, becomes refined and elevated in the young 
wife. Her example, the sweetness of her patience, and her 
conscientious regard for duty redeem the husband. With this 
meagre outline we dismiss the reader to find out for himself 
the art with which the points are woven into a story consistent 
enough, notwithstanding the rather unusual, if not wholly im- 
probable, coincidences upon which the plot turns. The mere 
fact that certain occurrences are possible are not legitimate 
forces to be employed in the conduct of a work of imagination, 
unless they spring from, or are directed in some way by, one 
of the characters endowed with power to produce the catas- 
trophe. The paltry incidents, the slight circumstances, which 
wreck the name, fame, and life of Othello, are not only ren- 



838 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar., 

dered probable in the effect aimed at, but are an irresistible 
influence when employed by the profound insight into charac- 
ter which lago possessed. 

The subjects treated in this volume of historical papers * 
belong to the past in their interest, and in a secondary sense 
only to the present. That is, they have a value as side-lights 
showing certain conditions under which the struggle between 
the church and the forces against her has been carried on 
since the Reformation in England. One paper, called the 
Hungarian Confession, would at first sound appear to be outside 
this area, but as political misrepresentation abroad has been a 
considerable factor in influencing English opinion on the church 
as .a social fact, it is very far from being irrelevant. 

The other articles are, one on the " English Coronation Oath," 
in accordance with which the sovereign enters upon his office over 
his Catholic subjects by swearing that their religion is supersti- 
tious and idolatrous. This, which is a learned article by Father 
Bridgett, C.SS.R., may open a way to new historical apprecia- 
tions on the part of our non-Catholic friends. The paper en- 
titled " Blessed Thomas Percy, Martyr, Earl of Northumber- 
land," by Father Phillips, is a chapter in the struggle of the 
church with the masterful policy of Elizabeth and her minis- 
ters. One value, at least, in papers of this kind, when they 
can be relied upon and these can be fully trusted is that 
they help to fix the memory of the general historical events of a 
period and at the same time enable one to judge of their rela- 
tion to each other ; but possibly better still, to the formation 
of a sound habit of thought with respect to great movements 
which they are sure to foster in minds of some capacity. 

The other papers are, the " Landing of St. Augustine/' by 
the learned editor, and the " Reformation at St. Martin's, 
Leicester," by Dudley Baxter, B.A. The " Landing of St. Au- 
gustine " is a well-reasoned essay, the point of which may be 
well gathered from the form in which he puts certain questions 
formulated by the Bishop of Stepney. This prelate in the form 
of his questions implied and assumed so much that was not 
merely controversial, but what any historian except a mere 
churchman would decide against him, that it was necessary to 
cast the matter at issue into this form, in which it could be 
fully and at the same time conveniently discussed. " Did he 

* Historical Papers. Edited by Rev. Sydney T. Smith, J.P. London : Catholic Truth 
Society. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 839 

(St. Augustine) come to found a church which should be inde- 
pendent of the See of Peter? or one which should look up to 
it as the necessary centre of unity and the necessary source of 
all ecclesiastical authority ? " Whether the Anglicans are de- 
parting from or merely returning to the " Reformation settle- 
ment," one has an excellent means of judging from the parish 
and other entries in day books and account books given in 
Mr. Baxter's essay named above. 

Concerning the utility of discussions on the comparative 
number of the saved and the lost for the general reader there 
may be a good deal of difference of opinion, but there can be 
none as to the interest with which speculations on such deep 
and absorbing topics are regarded by the vast majority of 
people. The profound and vital problems springing from the 
Creation of man, the Fall and the Redemption, in all their 
aspects and bearings on the human race, were fought over in 
the Scotch churches from the reign of Mary until the Revo- 
lution, and outside the churches were fought over by country 
gentlemen at the head of their tenants on the one side, and 
wild fanatics and well-paid mercenaries under the Reform- 
ing nobles on the other for awhile ; and for awhile by the 
forces of the crown on one side and the fanatics without the 
mercenaries on the other. Then their interest departed. In 
what way it can become a question of practical utility this 
one of the relative number of the saved and lost we fail to 
see, unless a very considerable tract is employed in defining the 
meaning of terms. What are the respective numbers required? 
What are the claims of God's justice? What are the materials 
for judgment in estimating the proportions of good and bad 
men in any age, and again in every age? Father Walsh offers* 
an interesting examination of Massillon's two sermons en- 
titled " On the Small Number of the Elect "; and with respect 
to these we cordially agree with our author that the great 
preacher is to be admired for the apostolic spirit which alone 
could have inspired him to address sermons of the kind to a 
king like Louis XIV., and a court such as that which turned 
with each " vary " of his like the "halcyon beaks" Kent de- 
scribes with such force and spirit. 

Under another title much of what Father Walsh presents 
to us would be invaluable in correcting erroneous notions of 

* The Comparative Number of the Saved and the Lost.. By Nicholas Walsh, S.J. Dub- 
lin : M. H. Gill & Son. 



840 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar., 

the church's teaching with regard to God's dealing with man- 
kind. At the same time we do not mean to say that the pure- 
ly speculative form of the title impairs the value of what he 
says about the church's teaching on this matter. In this he 
states the doctrine of the church; but if we take, for instance, 
the question of what she holds concerning those outside the 
fold, apart from the comparative number of the saved and lost 
of the whole human race, a practical question of vital interest 
to those persons is immediately raised. He presents this point 
himself with great felicity, but who would expect to find it in 
a " study " into which as an element of computation the num- 
ber of baptized infants must largely enter? "We Catholics," 
he says and says well, " are no doubt singularly privileged, the 
petted children of God, but we must not do an injustice to 
him by imagining that we have so absorbed his privileges and 
love that he has not much left for our poor pagan brothers 
and sisters." 

A Harp of Many Chords, by Mary F. Nixon,* is a brightly 
told account of experiences in foreign countries by an Ameri- 
can heiress and her aunt. They wander from one country to 
another and have had the advantage of mixing with really good 
society, which is a very different thing from fashionable society. 
The first visit is paid to a country family in the North of Ire- 
land, and the elements of a romance arise there between the 
heiress and an " English-Irishman." We are informed he has 
the merit of combining the " staying power of the Anglo- 
Saxon " with the " passionate purity inherited from his Irish 
ancestors." Some way or another outside people with the 
best feelings we mean people not brought up in Ireland and 
not racy of the soil, but with kindly sentiments towards that 
race are invariably blundering in their estimates of its charac- 
ter and disposition. 

The American ladies meet a very polite and somewhat melo- 
dramatic Austrian baron in the Tyrol. Pages of lively descrip- 
tion of scene and incident make the stay there pleasant for 
the reader. Curiously the English-Irishman turns up while the 
heiress is spending some heart-sick moments in the cathedral 
of Innspruck. She says she is "awfully" glad to see him 
However, in a confession for advice she had no intention 
of putting her sins on another's shoulders, which it seems 
Catholics do when they confess in the Sacrament of Penance 

* A Harp of Many Chords. By Mary F. Nixon. St. Louis: B. Herder. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 841 

she informs him that the baron saved their lives when a pair 
of horses ran away, but he made her uncomfortable. There 
was a mistake in the matter of identification which, though not 
quite new in works of fiction, is very amusingly wrought out, 
much more so than the similar one in Quentin Dunvard. Let 
us be understood: "more amusingly" we say, but there are 
circumstances in the adventures of the Ladies of Croye not 
often approached in interest. A. very unusual thing in a book 
of this kind, a difficulty is solved by overhearing a conversation ; 
the eavesdropping is accidental at first, but for the honor of 
listening to the conversation we have not even Edgar's excuse 
for opening his brother's letter. There was no necessity to dig 
secrets out of hearts. There is talk of a duel and the baron 
says to the " English-Irishman ": " Otto von Diesko does not 
fire twice." Unless we are greatly mistaken no Austrian gen- 
tleman would make this boast, though it is the kind of thing 
that draws down the gallery in a transpontine theatre. The 
next incident, and the whole company would be called before 
the curtain, as the detective, like an amiable deus ex machina, 
solves a difficulty complicated as a problem in sociology 
proposed by a Chicago professor. 

The book is entertaining. It appears you do not escape 
advertisements in . North Africa ; no one would suppose you 
escaped them in the South that is, at the Cape or wherever 
British commerce, equivalent for religion, has found its way ; 
but in Tangier, unless we are mistaken, Sozodont is painted 
on the walls. Dr. Hunt, whose acquaintance is made in Afri- 
ca, impresses the heiress. She reviews the men whom she met 
in the short period since she left the convent in Paris and who 
were an "interest" to her. The number, though respectable, is 
not appalling, and we beg our readers to remember our word 
"interest" is not a word of very restricted signification. How- 
ever, a romance springs out of this acquaintance, with a shadow 
or two of sadness, but somewhat melodramatic. Miss Nixon is 
best at descriptions of scenery, and she sometimes works out 
her conversations with naturalness and piquancy, but she suf- 
fers from the mania of the time, a desire to be brilliant, when 
instead she is, like Mr. Marion Crawford, only smart or flip- 
pant, with the flippancy of the oyster-bar or the music-hall. 
This may seem severe, but it simply demonstrates that this 
author has taken her impressions of men and women and of 
their ways from poor novels ; mainly from shallow and vulgar 
books like Balzac's, Mr. Allen's, and that crowd of money- 



842 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar., 

seekers who have not only destroyed the literary taste of our 
time, but have introduced an epidemic of coarse thought and an 
infection of bad manners into what those persons represent as 
good society. The result is that it is almost impossible to ex- 
pect a good book for purposes of relaxation. It will portray 
a society which never existed except in the fancy of the writer. 
If the men and women of such a book are shown in illustra- 
tions, these are no more like the author's drawing than Rosi- 
nante resembled the war-steed for which he stood in the imagi- 
nation of the immortal Knight of La Mancha. You could wor- 
ship the image of every man or woman in the pages of Balzac, 
Mr. Kipling, Mr. Grant Allen, or of some others, without being 
guilty of idolatry, because that man or woman would be like 
nothing in heaven, or on earth, or under the earth. We could 
say no less for certain reasons, but we can very fairly add that 
Miss Nixon's book is a pleasant one ; and an enjoyable hour 
or two may be derived from it by any reader whatever. 

The title of the 39-page pamphlet before us * naturally leads 
one to expect patriotic songs, such as might be supposed to 
spring into life within the brain of one who rejoices over the 
German, Austrian, and Italian league, but the author had in 
mind a sweeter, holier, and more enduring union the triple 
alliance mentioned in a text of St. Paul's, "Now abideth 
Faith, Hope, and Love, these three." It is not to be thought, 
however, that these are sacred songs. Their character is, in- 
deed, ennobling and distinctly religious, but their themes are 
more earthly than divine. It is the love noble and pure of 
man for woman, of parent for child, of a strong, true soul for 
its country, for the beauty of created things, for the hero, the 
poet, and the benefactors of human kind, that fills the author's 
heart and is embalmed in his words, though ever and anon 
the sublimer strains of faith and trust in God and of love for 
him break on the ear. 

There are in all twenty-two poems, and not one lacks in 
either thought or expression the clear impress of a true and 
skilful poet's care, while some have high worth, displaying as 
they do elevated thought and a rich, chaste imagination, as 
well as an excellent choice of words and rhythm. One will 
not meet in the whole book a single stiff or limping verse, nor 
more than a few imperfect rhymes. There is in this work, 

* Staves of the Triple Alliance. By St. James Cummings. Published by the Author, 
Charleston, S. C. 



1 8Q9-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 843 

however, one jarring note. Though, to our own thinking, some 
of these poems may not unfittingly win a long life in the 
memories and affections of men, still it would have been bet- 
ter had the author not told us that they will be treasured 
through the ages to come 

" If one good listener's heart continue warm 
Towards lives kept pure and beauty that is fraught 
With cheer for those who struggle through the storm." 

In the race for lasting fame these songs may be out- 
stripped by rivals of late birth, as they are by many a sweet 
and wholesome predecessor, and yet men's hearts will thrill 
with love for the beautiful and pure. 

A bit of Yankee enterprise is illustrated in the making of 
the book Jack Curzon* by Archibald Clavering Gunter, just at 
this time. Mr. Gunter might, indeed, be reasonably suspected 
of being a shrewd advertising agent employed by various 
steamship companies, hemp manufacturers, and various other 
commercial affairs, besides killing another bird with the same 
stone for himself. The best word that can be said for Jack 
Curzon is that it is just vulgar. It is an up-to-date story of 
our late brush with the Spaniards, and it has all the " extras " 
of the newest burlesque. Mr. Gunter's eye to stage-setting 
might rival Irving's own. Nothing has been overlooked in the 
way of "properties." The very latest thing in the way of 
Philippine friar villany (and the very oldest too in the way of slan- 
der) has been " brought on " in the panorama which he spreads 
before us. His manipulation of names which are now house- 
hold words, Hobson, Dewey, Aguinaldo, Weyler, et el., and the 
way they serve to dress up his little tale, would, it seems to us, 
make the profession of the yellow journalist a far more profit- 
able business to this enterprising author than either novel 
writing or advertising. Yet it is a pity that such remarkable 
talent and facility with the pen should be employed in no more 
ambitious way than he has used it, even though it may pay. 
And a book like Jack Curzon will undoubtedly pay, since the 
same enterprise which dictated the writing of it is employed in 
getting it before the public, as we understand that Mr. Gunter 
publishes his own books. 

* Jack Curzon, (being a portion of the Records of the Managing Clerk of Martin 
Thompson & Co., English merchants doing business in Hong Kong, Manila, Ceba, and Straits 
Settlements). A novel. By Archibald Clavering Gunter, author of Mr. Barnes of New 
York. New York : The Home Publishing Company. 



844 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar., 

What a pity that man rarely is aware of the arrival of that 
auspicious moment in his life when the tide of his affairs is at 
its flood and might lead on to fortune. If this book had been 
written without the trail of the serpent that winds in and out 
through the fair scenes and the glowing pictures of love and 
war, romance and chivalry, which he has depicted in its pages, 
Mr. Gunter might have proven the American Cervantes of the 
coming century. Perhaps he may have aspired to this when he 
selected his theme. He could not have reached out more 
boldly than he has for something startling and extraordinary 
and altogether fascinating. His principal creation of an 
American Spanish beauty, or beauties, for there are two of 
them, daughters of an old New England pirate who has abro- 
gated his rights of American citizenship in his greed for Spanish 
gold obtained by trading in her colonies, is a masterpiece of 
imagination and a decided " hit," in stage parlance. He might 
easily charm two continents with such a creature, for he has 
kept intact in her every Spanish charm and grace inherited 
from her Castilian mother while blending with it the quintes- 
cense of fin-de-siecle American girlism, sending her to Vassar 
College, and from thence to " Miss Browne's fashionable 
academy on Fifth Avenue, and from thence to Kansas to vote" 
and become a full-fledged " citizeness " of the United States! 
so that even the far-away twentieth century triumphs yet in 
store for the American girl may be anticipated for this beau- 
tiful creature. But there is some absurd anti-climax in the 
author's attempts at tragedy and pathos, which are very much 
like the serio comic touches of genuine burlesque. He can 
neither be wholly tragic nor wholly pathetic even after he has 
created the most sublime situations. Neither can he resist 
spoiling some of his most delicate touches with a smudge of 
coarseness. His love-making is vulgar, though apparently in- 
tended to be worthy of Bayard himself in sans peur et sans 
reproche. 

His ideas and opinions of the native Filipino are original, to 
say the least, but quite what might be expected from one who 
knows nothing about them while pretending to know it all. 
" Dear, fascinating, brave, merry little Filipinos ; a race with 
man's muscle, but woman's nature ; brave as women, impulsive 
as women, vindictive as women, fickle as women, who love 
like women, hate like women, and fight like men who are 
sometimes fierce as devils, and at other times tender as nur- 
sery rhymes." Concerning their religion, he thus sums up the 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 845 

only part of it which was in evidence to him : " Though what- 
ever their former creeds have been, Buddha or Vishnu or Mo- 
hammed, or worshippers of that mysterious being that strikes 
them down by lightning thunderbolts that they call Cambunian, 
they all, men and women, girls and boys, carry candles and 
march in religious festins, and cross themselves and go to con- 
fession and salaam to their padres, as members of the Church 
of Rome ; all these hating Spain, yet bowing to the flag that 
floats over the citadel of Santiago." 

Perhaps the one pure human touch in the whole book is 
the dog-like faithfulness of a Tagal boy to his imperious 
American mistress, or perhaps it is the gentle old Philippine 
friar, Mazie's confessor, whose invariable advice as to the vexing 
question of her marriage with the English officer is to " marry 
the man she loves." It is one admission, though a questiona- 
ble one from Mr. Gunter, that these greedy friars can listen to 
other promptings of human nature besides the baser ones. 

On the day of Newman's conversion to the church, and 
thenceforward, Dr. Pusey was acknowledged leader of the 
Tractarian movement in the English Church. It is owing to 
his prominence in that position that his name is known all the 
world over, that Puseyite and Puseyism were coined into the 
English language, and that a Greek newspaper even spoke of 
Pouzeismos. But there was another side to the man and less 
well known, forming the chief matter of interest in the present 
volume. 

The lofty plane on which his private life was pitched, and 
the recognized earnestness and self-denying virtue of the great 
divine, made him a man apart. He cultivated to the end of 
his life that craving for spiritual development and growth in 
holiness which had been the inspiring note of the original 
Tractarianism, and spent his days in consistent practice of those 
high ideals he had preached, living simply and piously, as far 
as he could in seclusion, working early and late for friend and 
stranger, rich and poor alike, interesting himself in all who 
applied for his assistance, and giving them of what he had. 
Famous for deep scholarship, literary activity, and leadership 
in ecclesiastical politics, it must not be forgotten that Dr. 
Pusey was likewise a comforter of souls, the standby and sup- 
port of thousands, to whom no clear light had come in their 
religious difficulties, and for whom he, unassisted, must do duty 
as friend, guide, confessor, bishop, and church. Throughout 



846 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar. 

his life such perplexing questions as sisterhoods, confessions, 
ritual, and ceremonial were constantly coming forward to be 
submitted to his ultimatum, and even more personal questions, 
as personal beliefs, pious or penitential exercises, were placed 
before him, with a readiness and hope born of earnestness and 
unselfishness recognized as proper to a man who sold his 
horses that he might give more generously, and whose wife 
parted .with her jewels as an offering to the London churches. 

The private, inner sentiments of such a life naturally find 
freest and truest expression in personal letters. Hence, the 
editors of the great volumes recently published expressed their 
intention of publishing Dr. Pusey's Letters to supply the 
gap necessarily left by the biographer in the record of that 
busy life. And so here * we have collected a considerable por- 
tion of that immense correspondence carried on by him, in 
dealing with the difficulties of individual souls. The portion of 
most interest, and most properly the one to which largest 
space is given, we think to be that dealing with trials in the 
spiritual life of those who sought his counsel, partly because 
advice on such matters is of universal and undying interest, 
partly because it so clearly portrays the writer's personality 
and strongest traits, and partly, too, because his theological 
position and arguments are well enough known and sufficiently 
available elsewhere. 

Those of the letters dealing with affliction and death are 
most characteristic, perhaps doubly impressive, when we remem- 
ber the touching and romantic attachment which Dr. Pusey 
bore for ten long years towards her who finally became his 
wife, only to be separated a few years after, leaving a sting in 
her husband's heart that attested at once the purity of his 
affection and the strength of his religious submission. Letters 
of advice to unbelievers, and to those trembling on the verge 
of the Roman tide, likewise outline clearly the characteristic 
bent of the writer's mind, and give us an idea at once of that 
unshaken, never-hesitating confidence of position mentioned 
by Newman, and again of the immense difficulties that had to 
be faced in doing duty as the sole channel of orthodox belief 
to a whole church's doctrinal and spiritual aspirations. The 
book is a necessary supplement to the work on which Dr. 
Liddon spent so many years, and will be thoroughly appre- 
ciated by those who have followed sympathizingly the details 
of a great man's life. 

* Spiritual Letters of Edward Bouverie Pusey. Edited by the Rev. J. O. Johnston, 
M.A., and the Rev. W. C. E. Newbolt, M.A. New York : Longmans, Green & Co. 



1899-] lALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 847 

The translation of another of Father Grou's works * will be 
welcomed by every one who can appreciate spiritual writings. 
This volume is but a portion of the author's UEcole de Jtsus 
Christ, but makes up quite a complete treatise, sure by its 
title to win a large number of persons carefully to scrutinize it. 
For we have yet to meet the earnest Christian who is not 
ready and eager to be instructed on how to improve in the 
practice of that essential of spiritual life and progress, prayer. 

Our most extravagant admiration could lend no "further 
value to a work of Father Grou's than what it possesses as a 
birthright, for the author is of unquestioned excellence as a 
pious, deep-thinking, sensible, clear, and impressive expositor 
of Christ's teaching and the science of the saints. We dare 
only note, for our readers' sake, how strongly this master of 
the spiritual life insists on the fact that " spirituality " and 
piety and great growth in God's service are not rare, excep- 
tional gifts closely monopolized by the few ; but that to every 
one of us God is calling to approach him more nearly, to make 
of our souls the great, glorious, beautiful things their Creator 
planned them to be. A further comment we cannot refrain from 
is, that a sifting of the Lord's Prayer the prayer par excellence 
for all time in heaven and on earth supplies Father Grou, con- 
cise and brief as is his style, with matter for nearly a hundred 
pages. We commend the memory of this fact to those persons 
who measure progress by the number of times they can race 
through this or other vocal prayers, thinking that one hun- 
dred and eighty-six Our Fathers will certainly do twice as much 
good as ninety-three. 

The Christ, by O. C. Auringer and J. Oliver Smith.f We 
have in the work just named what the authors call on their 
title-page a poetical study of the life of the Lord. They are 
not Catholics, but they are largely imbued with the Catholic 
spirit ; and this may be saying that they are poets too. It is 
not remarkable to us, who know the reason, that the highest 
and sweetest thought by which soul communicates with soul 
comes from the sentiment and emotion informed by the Cath- 
olic intellect. Poets whose doctrinal or speculative opinions 
were as hostile to the church as those of her declared enemies 
have said their finest things when for a moment they stood in 

*How to Pray. From the French of Abbe Grou, S.J., by Teresa Fitzgerald. Edited, 
with preface, by Father Clarke, S.J. London : Thomas Baker ; New York : Benziger Bros. 
t New York : G. P. Putnam's Sons. 



848 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar., 

the penumbra of her teaching. Her mind alone realizes the 
nature and dignity of man, and her heart the pathos of his weak- 
ness and the power of temptation. She loves man in a sense 
profounder and more far-reaching than the Greek love of his 
intellect and shape ; she loves him as her Spouse did, despite 
the leprosy of his sin and the loathsomeness of physical disease. 
So, when a pure and elevated sympathy found expression here 
and there in the tumult of Byron's passion, we were reminded 
of the Catholic heart ; when a truth concerning the brother- 
hood of man and its relation to the common Father comes out 
in Faust, we think that Goethe's meditations led him towards 
the light ; the same with Wordsworth and with Tennyson ; the 
same with the authors of the poems before us. 

They have not, indeed, the varied power and intensity 
of " the lords of song," but they possess the power which 
belongs to purity of thought and loyalty to conscience ; the 
power which brings men of high ideals, and earnestness in pur- 
suing them, to the mountain tops where prophets breathe as 
their true atmosphere an air too difficult for men of selfish 
aims. 

There are speculative errors in these poems, and in these we 
invariably see that the singers lose the magic of their touch, a 
something of subtle discord as though another spirit leant upon 
the strings. In such differences we perceive their inferiority to 
the great poets to whom the high frenzy of intellect or the 
passion of genius revealed a truth amid the whirlwinds of 
human feeling, or the results of powers trained merely in spec- 
ulative thought and the imitation of the most perfect models. 
It is such heights to which genius alone can rise that show 
how much greater one man may be than another. That the 
writers before us could pursue a thought through windings of 
the awful and mysterious, we have evidence in the faulty poem 
" Gethsemane "; that in language and the music of words they 
possess the skill of imitative art in a degree scarcely excelled 
by Tennyson, is apparent in "The Journey of Mary to the 
Hill-Country." Yet in the latter, admirable though its execu- 
tion is, we do not find one instance of that perfect relation be- 
tween thought and word which can be found scattered through 
the poems of Tennyson, of Shelley, and of Byron. 

Heroes of the Middle West, by Mary Hartwell Catherwood,* 
is a small volume, but it deserves more than a brief notice and 

* Boston : Ginn & Co. ; The Athenaeum Press. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 849 

we are sorry we can spare only a paragraph or two in noticing 
it. The starting of Father Marquette's expedition to the 
Upper Mississippi from the missionary station of St. Ignace, in 
1673, is described with animation. The party consisted of 
seven : the priest himself, Louis Joliet, and five trained woods- 
men. The governor of Canada, Count de Frontenac, thought 
the enterprise sufficiently important to send Joliet and the 
woodsmen with Father Marquette. There are some allusions to 
the family of the latter which ought to possess interest for 
Americans. One is that three Marquettes fought for Indepen- 
dence under Lafayette. We learn that at the time the con- 
federacy known as the Five Nations only counted twenty-two 
hundred fighting men ; and yet these were the most formidable 
savages on the continent to European settlers. It may be 
readily enough inferred that almost as many millions of people 
as there were then hundreds now derive subsistence from the 
region over which those savages fished and hunted for precar- 
ious support. 

The first meeting with Indians was at a village not far from 
the great river. They were a branch " of the great Algonquin 
family." Marquette and Joliet being led to the principal lodge, 
found outside the door an old Indian awaiting them in full 
court dress arranged for the occasion, as in Paradise before 
the Fall. His gestures are described as graceful and dignified 
as he welcomed them with the words, " How bright is the sun 
when you come to see us, O Frenchmen ! Our lodges are 
all open to you." Within the wigwam the visitors were 
offered the pipe of peace what Artemus Ward calls the 
" calumel " of that relation between high contracting parties. 
Marquette took the pipe, though that part of the ceremony 
seemed a hard penance to him. Well, in diplomatic intercourse, 
from the earliest days, much smoke has been blown and some 
swallowed against the will. Joliet did his part in this branch 
of the ambassadorial functions with the zest and energy of a 
veteran cloud-compeller. 

The interview with the chief, who resided in " a town " some 
distance from the village, is a picture of rare value as a socio- 
logical study, and given with much grace and animation of 
style. It suggests some speculation of a kind in direct con- 
flict with the theories of that highly amiable school of social 
philosophy represented by Spencer. The lodges of the savages 
possessed evidences of comfort which could not be found in 
laborers' dwellings in England at the close of the last and the 



850 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar., 

beginning ofr the present century. After presenting cloth and 
beads, the missionary stated they were voyaging in peace to 
visit nations on the river. With more presents he declared he 
came to announce that God their Creator had taken pity on them, 
and sent them to make Him known to them. With more presents 
he informed them that the French had established peace by over- 
coming the Iroquois, and with more presents he concluded the 
address by requesting all the knowledge they could give about 
the sea and intervening nations. 

The compliments paid by the chief to the Blackgown were 
high flown enough in all conscience, but in incomparably better 
taste than her own courtiers and foreign ambassadors used to 
offer Elizabeth. The earth had never been so beautiful, he said, 
the sun so bright, as on that day ; but he put it rather strong- 
ly when he attributed the even flow of the river to the retire- 
ment of the rocks at the approach of their canoes ; however, 
he could speak trom experience when he added that his tobacco 
had never had so fine a flavor as on that occasion. 

The banquet was a hospitable affair. We shall give a portion 
of the menu : First course, sagamity, or corn-meal, boiled in 
water and grease ; the second, fish ; the third, dog ; the fourth, 
buffalo ; but we infer this would not have appeared only that 
the missionaries shrank from the preceding course. Manners 
are, like usages, dependent on surroundings and so on. The 
chief spoon-fed his guests with the corn-meal, like children. 
Three or four spoonfuls to Marquette, then as many to Joliet. 
Nothing could be more distinguished than the politeness with 
which he dispensed the fish. He picked out the bones with his 
own fingers, blew on the fish to cool it, and we give the rest 
in our author's own words, for which we cannot just now think 
of any at all so expressive " stuffed the explorers with all he 
could make them accept." The chief made a present of a boy 
to Marquette, and begged of him to stay with them as an inter- 
mediary with the Great Spirit. A calumet dance was held in 
honor of the visitors, a very remarkable ceremony, and on the 
following day, after promising to return to instruct their hosts, 
they were accompanied by several hundreds of the friendly tribe 
to their canoes. An interesting memento was that of their 
seeing the two painted dragons high up on the rocks above the 
water before they came to the place where the turbid rush of 
the Missouri sweeps in like a storm on the clearer stream. 
They only escaped being massacred when they came to the wide 
expanse near the mouth of the Arkansa. "'liver by the coolness 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 851 

of Marquette and his holding up the Illinois calumet during the 
rain of missiles until it was observed by the assailants. 

Now we come to Marquette's illness, and soon after his death ; 
and we close this notice of a book which the reader will find 
an excellent chapter in that history of daring and adventure, 
of fortitude and fidelity to high purposes, which serves to puri- 
fy men's spirits amid the selfish pursuits and the petty routine 
of ordinary life, with the word that there are other heroes 
told of later on. 

A Cruise under the Crescent, by Charles Warren Stoddard.* 
The sketches accompanying the letter-press of Mr. Stoddard 
are very suitable to the matter in which they are framed, and 
help to illustrate it in a pleasant, easy way. The ground tra- 
versed is familiar to us in every kind of composition. It has 
been regarded from every point of view and by every order of 
ability. Vanity desiring to see itself on a title-page has writ- 
ten its inanities, or employed other hands to put in shape its 
impressions. Norway has not yet been overdone, but it is so 
fearfully suggestive of novelties to the yachtsman or the Cock- 
ney that it cannot remain longer safe from the fate of the 
South and East. Mr. Stoddard's style is something of a luxury. 
It puts one at his ease. There is a kind of charm like that of 
good conversation on everything he tells about, whether it be 
about the Bethlehem shop-keepers who pull your skirts that you 
may buy, or the man who offers to tattoo your arm in memory 
of Jerusalem. 

One might almost cry out in despair on the first glance at 
Jerusalem, seeing the mercenary spirit of its inhabitants, which 
penetrates even the most secret and sacred of shrines. " Ye 
have made it a den of thieves," he adds in a quiet, convincing 
way. A quiet word or two about a Moslem cemetery a tiny 
garden-plot in the Via Dolorosa puts its flowers and thistles 
fat and thriving before you nay, you "rest in its serene and 
secret loveliness as if you were reading a little poem on death 
which is not altogether sad. The impression produced by this 
picture, painted with such mysterious power over tranquillizing 
thoughts, makes us look upon Gray's "Elegy" as a blatant 
profanation of man's last resting place, which should be always 
held sacred to soft and solemn memories. 

He conducts us to the most singular and solemn spectacle 
which could have been witnessed anywhere since the daughters 
of Sion wept by the waters of Babylon. It was at the Jews' 

*Chi^ > -and New York : Rand, McNally & Co. 
VOL. LXVIII. 54 



852 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Mar., 

wailing-place. It was a wail raised at the foundations of the 
Temple, where men and women and young lads poured out 
their souls in agonies of grief and prayer over the place that 
is desolate, destroyed ; over the walls no longer there, the 
departed majesty of the people, their glorious dead, their 
priests who had stumbled before God, and the kings who had 
despised him. We can almost fancy we hear, as our author 
thought he heard, the name of Jerusalem said over and over 
a thousand times, as the antiphon praying for mercy on Sion, 
for the calling together the children of Jerusalem Sion and 
Jerusalem ending the alternate lines was chanted by each 
in turn. We confess to have been deeply touched by this 
memorial of the despair of an outcast people, even though the 
mingled sounds of the hopeless sorrow and the fierce energy 
of the prayer of long desolated hearts were no more than a 
fancy wrought in us by words. 

Beirut has a word or two from him which reminds one of 
the effect of a cameo of many colors ; but he is disillusioning 
when he comes to the fertile Troad, the wind-swept Ilium, the 
Hellespont. Curtius' History of Greece is quite poetic amid its 
philosophy in treating of these scenes where the homocide 
Mars bellowed and the wise Ulysses and the other well- 
greaved Greeks left to all generations such a record in policy 
and arms as will not be surpassed by the perfected race which 
Positivism is to produce. Fancy ! when he comes to the Helles- 
pont, Mr. Stoddard says Leander swam it; "so did Byron, so 
did we in a ship." We can only add, in sorrow, so did " Mr. 
Ekenhead," but not in a ship. He seems grateful to Homer 
for burning Troy because the fertile Troad is a bleak plain. 

When he gets cruising between the Pontus and Propontis 
he is a very pleasant companion, as indeed everywhere. What 
memories are associated with these shores! Going hither and 
thither through the book, as the author swings in his ship from 
the European to the Asiatic side and back again, we enjoy 
the scenes he opens, the curious notes on men never caustic, 
though sometimes droll with the very slightest flavor of malice 
a suspicion of Attic salt and we give him our thanks for a 
delightful time. 

How to Enjoy Pictures is a tasteful little volume,* except 
ing the color of covers. Its distinct purpose is to help the 
uninitiated properly to appreciate pictures and photographs. 
All the workmanship, writing, illustration, and binding is well 

* How to Enjoy Pictures. By M. S. Emery. The Prang Educational Co. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 853 

and gracefully done, each serving its end admirably. The 
limitation of aim forbids our criticising the plan as defec- 
tive. Still, one must realize that a personal study of great 
masterpieces is apt to be arbitrary; and the writer here, 
necessarily, reads her own ideas into the subjects passed 
under review. This, of course, will scarcely educate the 
reader in the art of critical appreciation ; whether it may or 
may not result in successful attempts at criticism on similar 
lines depends on the student's ambition and energy. On the 
whole the book is very welcome, as being another effort to 
develop good taste and lofty thought among the many. A 
foundation in the principles governing successful composition is 
pretty sure to be the gain of any intelligent reader of Miss 
Emery's work. Nothing striking or original is ventured ; and, of 
course, nothing but the ordinary views proclaimed. The illus- 
trations are a well-chosen series of reproductions from the great 
masters, ancient and modern, the most familiar and popular pieces 
being selected, as is very wise. The series, too, is fairly repre- 
sentative of Catholic work and Catholic masters ; and a novel 
feature is a consideration of illustrations produced in current 
standard magazines. 

Accomplished gentleman and courteous, as M. Bourget 
proved himself on occasion of his visit to us, still he is capable 
of writing The Disciple.* It seems wonderful to us. Perhaps 
we are less used to such anomalies on this side of the water ; but 
certainly a man among us who attains to M. Bourget's station 
would carry something better to the publishers than the manu- 
script of a work like this. 

If the lessons of the book are needed by the typical young 
Frenchman of the day, then well may the men of letters 
"tremble at their own responsibility." Poor, shallow, spiritless 
canaille is the youth of France, if such volumes are its gospel. 
How different from the generous spirits that thronged the 
universities a half-century ago ! 

Psychology amateurish, characters undeveloped save in one 
instance ; plot, plan, aim not discernible. Heaven forgive the 
writer of a book so thoroughly lacking in justification of exist- 
ence! Situations of dramatic possibility are uncultivated, 
wild traits and abnormal dispositions are multiplied, the denoue- 
ment is laughably, grotesquely flat. We give the author carte 
blanche to depict the passionate for M. Bourget does not feed 

* The Disciple. By Paul Bourget. (Translated.) London and New York : F. Tenny- 
son Neely. 



854 NEW BOOKS. [Mar. 

upon filth and gloat over coarseness and he produces so dis- 
mally powerless a picture that we are fain to cry out : Was it 
for this I waded through weary pages of analysis and minute 
study ? 

Nay, M. Bourget, give us some clever little sketches of men 
and things and do not pose as the leader and teacher of a 
rising generation, and never again write so grand a preface to 
a similarly disappointing work. 

Let us add that the person who translated this book should 
never again be entrusted with a task of that sort ; not even 
the poverty of the subject matter can justify such atrocious 
slaughter. 

NEW BOOKS. 

LONGMANS, GREEN & Co., New York : 

German Higher Schools. By James E. Russell, Ph.D. 
THE JOHN CHURCH Co., New York: 

Laurel Winners, Portraits, and Silhouettes of American Composers. 
SILVER, BURDETT & Co., New York : 

Through the Year. Book I., September to January. By Anna M. Clyde 
and Lillian Wallace. Through the Year. Book II., February to June. 
Poetry of the Seasons. Compiled by Mary I. Lovejoy. Braided Straws. 
By Elizabeth E. Foulke. 
SWEDENBORG PUBLISHING ASSOCIATION, Germantown, Pa.: 

God Winning Us. By Rev. Clarence Lathbury. 
CHISTIAN PRESS ASSOCIATION PUBLISHING Co., New York: 

Symbolism of Early Christianity from the Catacombs of Rome. Three Lec- 
tures by Right Rev. F. S. Chatard, Bishop of Indianapolis. 
B. HERDER, St. Louis, Mo.: 

A Harp of Many Chords. By Mary F. Nixon. The Ideal New Woman. 

From the French of the Countess Ernestine De Tremaudan. 
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & Co., New York: 

The Message of Christ to Manhood ; being the William Beldon Noble Lec- 
tures for 1898. 
THE AVE MARIA, Notre Dame, Ind.: 

The Tales J^im Told Us. By Mary E. Mannix. 
MACMILLAN Co., New York: 

Three Studies in Literature. By Lewis E. Gates, Professor of English in 

Harvard. 
AMERICAN BOOK Co., New York: 

The Story of the Thirteen Colonies. By H. A. Guerber. Selections from the 
Correspondence of Cicero. By J. C. Kirtland, 'Jr., Phillips Exeter Acad- 
emy. Ten Orations of Cicero. Edited by William R. Harper, Ph.D., 
President University of Chicago, and Frank A. Gallup, A.B., Professor of 
Latin, Colgate Academy. 
AZARIAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION, Syracuse, N. Y.: 

Culture of the Spiritual Sense. By Brother Azarias. 
D. APPLETON & Co., New York: 

Bible Stories in Bible Language. By Edward T. Potter. 
BENZIGER BROTHERS, New York : 

Ceremonial for Servers. Part I., Low Mass. Christianity or Agnosticism. 
By Abbe Louis Picard. Authorized translation revised by Rev. J. G. 
Macleod, S.J. Historic Nuns. By Bessie R. Belloc. Life of St. Edmund 
of Abbingdon, Bishop of Canterbury. By Frances De Paravicini. The 
Saved and Lost. By Rev. Nicholas Walsh, S.J. 




THE official directory of the Catholic Church in 
the United States has just been issued and a com- 
parison of published figures with the previous 
years indicates a growth to be sure, but still only a meagre 
growth. The total Catholic population on January I, 1899, is 
but 50,790 in excess of the figures published for 1898. From 
a total Catholic population of 10,000,000 there ought to be a 
natural increase of 500,000 instead of the 50,000 above reported, 
and then besides it is estimated that a half of 50,000 comes by 
conversions to the faith. What is the matter? Are we at a 
standstill or is the difficulty to be found in the inaccuracy of 
the published figures ? 



The figures show 4,512 fewer children in the parochial schools 
and 2,000 more orphans cared for, making the number of chil- 
dren under Catholic tutelage this year 956,784 as against 958,959 
for the previous year. The normal growth however asserts 
itself again in the increase of the clergy 11,119 this year as 
against 10,901 for last year a net increase of 108, while 432 
new churches have been built. It is not without its value to 
call attention to these figures, for if one would judge by the 
way some people talk and act they consider the church is quite 
large enough. 



The " Americanization " of the new possessions is going on 
merrily. Now and then a little bit of friction appears. This 
latter to some extent may be expected and one can readily 
overlook it, if the main work goes along in a sympathetic way. 
When we see army officers using their official position to play 
into the hands of Protestant missionary societies, or what is 
worse insulting the religious convictions of the people over 
whom they are placed in command, we are inclined to cry out, 
and cry out loudly, that apart from the imprudence shown in 
such a policy, conduct like this places the government in a false 
light and may result in strained relations and the expenditure 
of no end of money. 



856 EDITORIAL NOTES. [Mar., 

A catechism of united English nonconformity has been pub- 
lished. It is an effort to put into definite form the many 
teachings held in common by all the Evangelical churches in 
England. By yielding to a vagueness in terms, and a diffuse- 
ness in thought, some success has been attained in securing a 
common platform of religious belief. It remains to be seen 
how far this platform will be accepted. It has no binding 
authority now. 



The more this doctrinal accuracy is indulged in, the more 
will bright and enquiring minds among the nonconformists be 
alienated from religious standards. The principle of private 
judgment is essentially centrifugal in its movements. It tends 
to disintegration. It has been stated that what keeps people 
out of the non-Catholic churches is the insisting on the finality 
of theological teaching. The only way to keep them in is to 
talk vaguely of taking on Christ. " Less of churchianity and 
more of Christianity," is what is wanted they say. This move- 
ment excludes the making of catechisms or defining anything 
dogmatic. 

The Samoan trouble simmers down to just this : The peo- 
ple by an overwhelming majority want Mataafa for king. By 
a mere fiction of the law the Chief-Justice, who is an Ameri- 
can, sets aside a great man, as men go among the native 
Samoans, for a mere boy. The legal fiction is, when the Berlin 
Treaty was made Bismarck had it tacitly understood (it was 
not incorporated into the treaty) that Mataafa, because of 
some disregard of German interests, should never be recognized 
as king. The German consul is just now the one who sup- 
ports him. It seems very evident that the religious question 
has entered into the decision. Mataafa is a good Catholic, 
while the boy who is de jure king is a scholar in a missionary 
school. The great American principle of permitting the people 
to rule through their duly chosen representative is violated, 
and the support of the American and English government is 
given to a child who is practically under the thumb of the 
Bible societies. 



I899-J CATHOLICS IN THE ARMY AND THE NAVY. 857 





LIEUTENANT-COMMANDER WILLIAM B. BARRY, U.S.N. 

CATHOLIC OFFICERS IN THE ARMY AND THE 

NAVY. 



LIEUTENANT-COMMANDER WILLIAM B. BARRY, 

U.S.N. 

Lieutenant-Commander William B. Barry, was born October 
20, 1849, in New York City. His father Garret V. Barry, late 
Pay-Director in the U. S. Navy, was the son of the rightful Earl of 
Barrymore, his mother the daughter of the late Thomas Glover. 



858 CATHOLICS IN THE ARMY AND THE NAVY. [Mar., 

In 1862 he was sent to the Jesuit College of St. Francis Xavier 
in Fifteenth Street, New York City, where he remained three 
years completing the grammar course. He entered the Naval 
Academy in July, 1865, at Newport and completed the then 
four years course in June, 1869. 

In September, 1883, he was ordered to the Naval Academy 
as instructor, and in 1886 he was detached and ordered to the 
Alliance in the South Atlantic Squadron. In 1888 he made a 
cruise through the Straits of Magellan, and in November, 1889, 
he was ordered to the Bureau of Navigation where he served 
under Francis M. Ramsay. 

In 1891 he again joined the Asiatic Squadron and after a 
cruise of two years was attached to the office of Naval Intel- 
ligence at Washington. InfAugust, 1897, the Cincinnati was re- 
pairing at New York, and Lieutenant-Commander Barry was or- 
dered to her as Executive officer. The revolution in Brazil neces- 
sarily demanded the presence of a U. S. ship and thither 
he was sent. When the excitement died away a cable despatch 
indicated serious difficulties with regard to Cuban affairs, and 
the Cincinnati was ordered to the northern limit of the sta- 
tion. Upon receipt of the news of the " blowing up " of the 
Maine the Cincinnati received permission to return north and 
arrived at Key West, where^was assembled the most powerful 
fleet ever under the U. S. flag. The Cincinnati sailed for 
Cuba and established the blockade off Havana, then she was 
sent to the eastward to blockade Matanzas and Cardenas. 
About this time, the whole nation was disturbed by the re- 
port that the Cincinnati was wrecked. The report was caused 
by the debris marked Cincinnati which had been found after 
she had cleared for action. On April 27 the Cincinnati, with 
the New York, opened fire on the batteries at Merrillo Point. 
May I, with crippled boilers, the Cincinnati was [ordered to 
Key West word having been received that Admiral Cervera's 
fleet was at Curacoa. In spite of orders the Cincinnati left Key 
West to scout off the western end of Cuba and to prevent the 
Spaniards doubling up the weak blockade along the northern 
coast. 

The Cincinnati again returned to Key West, and was ordered 
south. In the meantime Cervera's Squadron had been de- 
stroyed and Santiago had fallen. The war was over. Later 
the Cincinnati aided in the landing at Ponce, and during an 
attack made by the Spaniards on the lighthouse occupied by 
U. S. soldiers the Cincinnati swept the neck of land with her fire, 



1899-] CATHOLICS IN THE ARMY AND THE NAVY. 859 

connecting it with the main island. The attack was unsuccessful. 
On August 14 the town informed the ships of the armistice 
and Lieutenant-Commander Barry, the first American to visit 
the town after war was declared, went to call on Captain-General 
Marcias to learn the situation. The Cincinnati remained in the 
vicinity of Cuba until after January I of this year, and 
participated in the flag raising at Havana. 

In due time she reported at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, where 
she is now being overhauled. The regard with which the crew 
hold Lieutenant-Commander Barry can not be better shown than 
by an occurrence that took place during one of his foreign cruises. 
He was given command of the boats for practice, to keep the 
men away from the town. The tropical sun was beating upon 
the poor men, and he, touched by their suffering, gave them 
permission to leave the boats. All but one returned, and of 
course when they returned to the ship the young lieutenant 
was placed under arrest until the man should be found. That 
night every man who had his liberty asked permission to go 
ashore, and arranging themselves into several scouting parties 
did not return until they had found the deserter and freed 
their beloved Lieutenant. " Barry," said a Navy Officer, " is 
one of the best informed men in the Navy, a faithful officer, 
a devoted student, a practical sailor. Of his daily life the 
following tribute was paid by an observant comrade." " He is 
a magnificent Catholic, a conscientous Christian." His char- 
acteristic love of study was manifested in a statement he was 
heard to make a short time back : " I am glad the war is 
ended, I can now get back to my books, I have not read any- 
thing for months." In the hands of such men we need not 
fear to trust our nation's honor or the peoples interest. 



860 Tt/ COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Mar., 



THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 

IN this department of the CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE the claims of Catho- 
lic authors to recognition by the reading public have been stated in various 
ways since the year 1889. The members of Catholic Reading Circles became 
active in disseminating the opinions put forth in these pages, so that now it is 
gratifying to observe a general tendency to encourage the circulation of books 
representing the culture and learning of Catholic writers. Every Reading Circle 
formed among Catholics should endeavor to assist in this good work of cultivat- 
ing a feeling of loyalty to their own representatives in the world of letters. From 
one of the most devoted friends of this movement, to give honor to whom honor 
is due, we have received the following notice of an author, Mrs. Miriam Coles 
Harris, who entered the one true church about two years ago: 

Rutledge, the first and best known novel written by Mrs. Harris, was pub- 
lished in 1860 and its appearance was considered a literary event. It had a 
wider circulation than any novel except Uncle Tom's Cabin, and the mystery 
surrounding the author piqued the public curiosity ; but it was not until her two 
succeeding novels, The Sutherland* and Louie's Last Term at St. Mary's, were 
given to the public that Mrs. Harris became known as the author of Rutledge. 
Her novels show that she has been a keen observer of people and things. 
The characters are flesh and blood creations possessing all the virtues and yet the 
weaknesses too of human nature. Although a woman of deep religious feeling 
she does not intrude this upon her readers by any forced attempt at the pietistic. 
She knows how to tell an interesting story without attempting either a purpose 
novel, with its figures working out a moral pattern, or an analytical novel with 
its scientific dissection of mind and heart. Her books are both wholesome 
and palatable, and can be safely recommended to the attention of Reading 
Circles, through which medium it is to be hoped that they may obtain an entry 
into many Catholic households 

Unlike most American authors Mrs. Harris has not been a contributor to 
magazines, having done no writing outside of her novels with the exception of 
two devotional books written while she was a member of the Anglican Church 
Her most recent publication, A Corner of Spain, is therefore somewhat of a 
departure, but gives unmistakable evidence of her ability to succeed in lines 
other than fiction. Appearing as it does at a time when everything Spanish is 
invested with a peculiar interest, it should be very widely read. When Mrs. 
Harris made the visit to Spain which furnished the experiences she has recorded 
in these pages, she was not a Catholic. The people and things described she 
viewed as an intelligent observer, devoid of partial bias. Her opinions ought, 
therefore, to carry much weight to the minds of thinking people who are anxious 
to know Spain and her people as they really are. 

Here is a complete list of her books, published by Houghton, Miffiin Co.: 

Rutledge, 7 he Sut her lands, Frank Warring-ton, St. Philip's, Richard Van- 
der march, A Perfect Adonis, Happy-Go- Lucky, Phoebe, Missy, Louie's Last 
Term at St. Mary's, A Corner of Spain. 

* * * 

The Hecker Study Circle of Memphis, Tenn., was founded by Miss Clara 
Conway. It has for officers, Mrs. M. Gavin, president; Mrs. W. Floyd, first 



1899-] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 86 1 

vice-president ; Mrs. G. Garvey, second vice-president ; Mrs. C. H. Russell, sec- 
retary and treasurer; and Miss A. Rice, corresponding secretary. As a motto 
these words have been chosen : " The responsibility of tolerance lies with those 
who have the wider vision." In the attractive pamphlet containing the constitu- 
tion and by-laws it is stated that the objects of the association shall be the study 
of Catholic truth, and the promotion of Christian unity and fellowship. No 
written papers shall be required, as the work is to be conducted chiefly by con- 
versation and discussion. Among the religious leaders selected for study are 
Pope Leo XIII., Cardinal Newman, Father Damien, and Father Hecker. 

* * * 

We are informed that the eloquent address of Bishop Spaulding, recently 
delivered at Washington in behalf of the new Trinity College for women, will be 
published in pamphlet form. It will be welcomed by Reading Circles as a 
powerful statement of the advantages to be gained by women who have the 
time, inclination, and ability to pursue higher studies under the patronage of the 
Catholic University. Some extracts are here given to suggest topics for discus- 
sion : 

" The Christian ideal is moral rather than intellectual. The followers of 
Christ find themselves in a school of religion and virtue, not in a school of 
philosophy. A pure and loving heart yearning for peace and righteousness is to 
be preferred to a mind curious for knowledge and busy with speculation about 
what is beyond man's reach. . . . It is but natural, then, that the Christian 
world should have turned its first thought and devoted its prime energy to moral 
culture. Nay, it is forever true that knowledge without conduct is worthless, 
that the science which does not make man better is as though it were nescience. 
. . . Let us therefore be patient as we watch the slow progress of the world 
in things of the mind. . . . Nevertheless reason is man's highest attribute. 
. . The more we learn to live in the serene air of delightful studies, the 
longer do we retain the fresher arts and charm of youth ; the more adaptable 
also do we become, the more capable of high and ennobling companionship. In 
marriage as in friendship, or in whatever sphere of life, human relations are 
chiefly spiritual ; the more thoroughly educated a woman is the more able is she 
to fulfil in a noble way the duties of wife and mother. The primary aim, how- 
ever, is not to make a good wife and mother any more than it is to make a good 
husband and father. The educational ideal is human perfection perfect man- 
hood and perfect womanhood. Given the right kind of man and woman and 
whatever functions are to be fulfilled, will be well performed and well fulfilled. 
Woman's sphere lies wherever she can live nobly and do useful work." 

* * * 

A very notable event was the celebration of its thirtieth anniversary, by the 
Woman's Club of Brooklyn in the Pouch Mansion. The club's development 
along social, literary, and educational lines was a topic for discussion, and the 
principal speakers were the Rev. Dr. W T hite Chadwick, the Rev. Dr. Lyman 
Abbot, Dr. Truman J. Backus, and Dr. St. Clair McKelway. 

Dr. McKelway's speech was received with great appreciation and applause. 
He said in part: 

There are men's clubs with collateral arrangements for the admission of 
women to their privileges. I know of no women's clubs with like arrangements 
for men. The best we can do is to accept your invitations to annual or semi- 
annual occasions, and we must pay for the honor with speeches. Those of you 
who know law, and those of you who are studying law, can say whether such 



862 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Mar., 1899.] 

speeches are a valuable consideration or not. If you think they are easy to make, 
try the experiment under circumstances which would put you in our places. 

I am not sure as to whether your clubs are better than our clubs. I am sure 
that as the mind and the heart though within the body are superior to.it, that 
what appeals to them should be rated above what appeals to it, and what appeals 
to them through literature, through narrative, through music, through reason- 
ing, through opinions, and through the polite arts generally is constantly in 
evidence at your meetings. This is the case, if reports are to be believed, if 
narrative is accurate, if impression is correct, or if intimation is suggestive. 
Such appeals are rare among clubs of men. They occur monthly or only how 
and then. And the attraction must be especially strong to make them accept- 
able or popular, even when they occur. 

Men go to clubs to meet other men, to exchange views, plans, and news 
with them; sometimes also to break bread with them. You thus see that what 
purposes men carry out through clubs with men, women carry out with women 
through luncheons, five o'clock teas, an exchange of calls and the like. The 
occasional man who shows up at a five o'clock tea has to plead guilty, though he 
is generally able to submit extenuating circumstances. 

There is nothing in Brooklyn which can do for men what the Woman's Club 
does for women except the lecture course of the Institute, and there the pro- 
portion of the sexes is about as three to one in your favor. It follows, therefore, 
that the intellectual and aesthetic fields open to women in these times and in 
this borough exceed those available to men. Men have only such occasions of 
that sort, as a rule, in which wpmen join them and do largely outnumber them, 
while women have those very occasions to start with and the secret meetings of 
their clubs into the bargain. 

The natural inference would be that the women of this generation are far 
ahead of the men in knowledge, alertness, perspicacity, and the like. I wish to 
be polite, but I wish to be just, and I do not believe that I can pay to you such a 
compliment. The percentage of activity along intellectual lines among women 
is larger than among men of the same social classes in the world. But that fact 
is a feature of recent times, and has not been a feature of all times. The 
fact that it is a feature of recent times is due to the desire and determination of 
the women of this generation to make up for lost time, and to put their sex 
further forward on the path of knowledge in this century than it went in any 
preceding century. Indeed, this is the century of the awakening of woman. I 
have lived long enough, from the middle into the latter half of that century, to 
know and to test that fact. Within my own time, I think, the first woman to 
earn daily pay by daily work with the pen on newspapers began to do so. With- 
in that tinrTe the' first woman to learn to set type began to do so so far as I can 
affirm in America. 

If you w&flet'me say that your sex had considerable lost distance to make 
up; I will do it. fiut I shall say it with the consciousness of its reflection upon 
my owh>sjex,. whicn did not throw open the doors of culture and of education in 
the past to bdtn halves of humanity. Yet my sex may take the credit of having 
opened the doors or of having let your sex break them in. I have no doubt that 
this organization, while subdivided into many parts, each with its specific func- 
tion, yet all converging upon the purposes of a common benefit and a common 
welfare, is consciously or unconsciously doing just what organizations rightly 
inspired and rightly employed are doing for men. M. C. M. 




' ' And on the Sabbath Day they rested according to the 
Commandment. ' ' 

SATURDAY MORNING ON MOUNT CALVARY. 



THE 




CATHOLIC WORLD. 



VOL. LXIX. APRIL, 1899. No. 409. 



THE PAPAL LETTER AND THE "OUTLOOK." 

BOUT the only religious publication which has 
taken any very serious exception to the recent 
letter of the Holy Father on the subject of 
" Americanism " is the Outlook. Other periodicals 
have demurred at some of the statements or have 
found fault in a trivial way with the dignified and 
authoritative claims made by the Holy Father as 
the exponent of the one true Church. This might 
have been expected, because of the different points of view from 
which the letter is looked at. But the Outlook takes issue with 
the words of the Pope on deeper and more fundamental grounds, 
no less than " the interpretation of the religion of Jesus Christ 
as embodied in the Four Gospels." Let us quote here the ex- 
act words of the statement from the Outlook : 

"But the larger question, Does Pope Leo XIII. correctly in- 
terpret the religion of Jesus Christ as it is embodied in his 
life and teachings contained in the four Gospels? concerns the 
Universal Church. The Outlook does not believe that he does. 
We recognize the self-consistent attitude of the Roman Catholic 
Church, but not that this attitude is consistent with the liberty 
wherewith Christ makes free. Nevertheless we are glad to have 
it stated with such explicitness, for it will help clear thinking. 
For between the position that religious faith is a dogma once 
for all delivered to the saints, and either transcribed in an in- 
fallible Bible or committed to the custody of an infallible 
Church, and the position that every man is a child of God 
may have direct communion with God, and may learn for hi 
self by that communion what the will of God is, that no d 
ma can possibly state spiritual truth in a permanent form, t 

Copyright. THE MISSIONARY SOCIETY OF ST. PAUL THE APOSTLE IN THE 

STATE OF NEW YORK. 1899. 
VOL. LXIX. I 





2 THE PAPAL LETTER AND THE " OUTLOOK" [April, 

philosophical definitions of spiritual life must change with 
changing philosophy, as the language in which they are ex- 
pressed changes with changes in language and literature, that 
truth is more than dogma and life is more than discipline, that 
neither truth nor life has been or can be ossified in a written 
record or a traditional ecclesiastical decree, that, in a word, the 
kingdom of God is like a seed planted in the ground, which 
grows, men know not how, and that when it ceases to grow it 
ceases to live, and therefore ceases to be the kingdom of God 
between these two attitudes there appears to us to be no 
middle ground. The Roman Catholic Church is the self-con- 
sistent exponent of an infallible, unchangeable dogma, an immo- 
bile, unalterable life. Protestantism will never be self-consistent 
until it stands with equal courage for the opposite doctrine- 
adaptability of religious institutions to changing circumstances, 
the mobility of religious life as a perpetual growth, and the 
continual change of dogmatic definitions, always inadequate to 
express the ever-enlarging spiritual life of the individual and of 
the race." 

As a thoughtful and representative periodical the Outlook 
has a very high standing. It voices the religious sentiments of 
a large and intelligent class of non-Catholics who have turned 
their back on church authority and ecclesiasticism, and are fac- 
ing towards " rationalism " in religion, in the stricter sense of 
the word, as opposed to the acceptation of the authoritative 
teaching of the external order. 

It is not at all to be wondered at that the Outlook should 
manifest some little uneasiness at the beautiful spectacle of 
the Catholic world here in free-thinking and liberty-loving 
America listening with reverential docility to the voice of an old 
man away off in Rome. But in doing so Catholics neither con- 
fess to any servility to the opinions of another, nor to any intel- 
lectual slavery. The only intellectual servitude we know is the 
subservience of the mind to a human teacher whose authority 
on questions of divine truth does not transcend the skies and 
whose sources of knowledge are no more or no less than just 
what any one may acquire by natural ability. It is no slavery 
for the mariner who is tossed on the wide expanse of ocean that 
he must stand at midday and watch the passing of the sun across 
the meridian, and that he must accept the dictation of the sun as 
M^>to the regulation of his daily life. He perchance might be freer 

e had the arrangement of his own time, if he might go on 
Jijie bridge and announce the hour of twelve when it pleased 
is fancy or suited his own convenience. But even then he 
could not get away from the principle of authority. In order 



1899-] THE PAPAL LETTER AAD THE " OUTLOOK:' 3 

to get any one to accept his arbitrary arrangement of time so 
that there might be some order in the watches, and not ever- 
lasting confusion on board, he would be obliged to impose his 
arrangement on all the others by authority. Many, moreover, 
seeing that the only principle whereby the hour of midday was 
fixed was the captain's own pleasure, would very soon rebel 
against one man's pleasure setting itself up against another's, 
even if he were the captain of the ship. 

How much more harmonious it is to have the authority 
of the sun, which no one disputes and whose regulation of 
time every one freely and willingly accepts. As we look over 
the non-Catholic religious world, where the principle of authority 
is denied, there are duplicated the divergencies and differences 
that would characterize the condition of affairs on shipboard if 
the captain would put aside the sun as a guide and set up his 
own convenience as the standard. 

In accord with this spirit of obedience, when the letter of 
t'le Holy Father was published the Paulist Fathers immediately 
sent the following expression of their adherence to the teach- 
ing of the Holy Father:* 

As soon as we had read the letter of your Holiness regard- 
ing the errors to which the name of " Americanism " is given, and 
addressed to his Eminence James Cardinal Gibbons, Archbishop 
of Baltimore, as this letter was given in English in the New 
York daily papers, we immediately, fully, and willingly em- 
braced the doctrine laid down in this Pontifical document ; and 
we signified this without delay by telegraph to your Holiness. 
And for the letter we cordially thank your Holiness, because, 
in the discharge of your office of supreme Doctor and infallible 
Teacher, you lead us in the way of truth and keep far from us 
the darkness of error; and in the same spirit Father Hecker, 
if he were still living, would with filial veneration have received 
the Pontifical decree. 

But the reading of the letter of your Holiness gave us no 
little comfort, because therein it is stated that the errors reproved 
by the Holy See are rather to be ascribed to the interpretations 
of the opinions of Father Hecker than to those opinions them- 
selves. But if there be anything, either in the doctrine or the 
" Life " of this Father, which is ordered by the wise judgment 
of your Holiness to be corrected, we willingly acquiesce in the 

* The Latin text of this letter may be found at the end of this number under the caption 
"Editorial Notes." 



4 THE PAPAL LETTER AND THE "OUTLOOK" [April, 

sentence of the Holy See, both because the Roman Church is 
the pillar and ground of the truth, and because it is commanded 
as follows in the Rule of our Institute : " Let a prompt and 
cheerful religious submission to the Holy Church, and to every 
lawfully constituted authority in it, and to all the ordinances 
established by its authority, be a principal and evident charac- 
teristic of our society and of all its associates. First of all, let 
this obedience be shown to the Vicar of Jesus Christ, and to 
the Holy Roman Church, and to all the decrees and instruc- 
tions of the Holy See, whether relating to doctrine or to disci- 
pline." This manner of obedience is deeply imprinted in our 
hearts, so that we have never thought of departing from the 
integrity and strictness of Catholic doctrine. But if, according 
to the judgment of your Holiness, we have either had this 
tendency, or have appeared to have it, or by our way of 
acting have given any favor in any way to such a ten- 
dency, we gratefully receive the paternal correction of your 
Holiness. 

The Constitutions of our Institute strictly require us to aim 
at perfect orthodoxy, and to have for our standard not only 
the definitions of the Church, but also its instructions, and the 
writings of approved authors concerning the spiritual life, and 
to promote the devotions which the Church fosters and recom- 
mends. And in these Constitutions the following declaration is 
to be found : " To all, including the priests, it is prescribed to 
use spiritual direction, according to the principles laid down by 
approved writers." In these and in all matters we declare 
that we shall follow the instructions laid down in the letter of 
your Holiness, and we likewise profess full obedience and 
faithful adherence to your Holiness and to the Holy Roman 
See. 

The principle of authority in religious matters, instead of 
being a hindrance to the growth of real religious life, is a most 
decided help. The Outlook does not seem to appreciate this 
fact. It looks on an unerring church or an infallible pope as 
an oppressive incubus which kills all spontaneous growth be- 
neath it, shutting out all direct communication with God him- 
self. It would seem to think that under such a system the 
spiritual life must of a necessity be etiolated and jejune. But 
the facts are, fortunately, not in accord with such imaginings. 
Catholic hagiology is full of the life-stories of men and women 
who have attained the heights of heroic sanctity while living 



1899-] THE PAPAL LETTER AND THE "OUTLOOK" 5 

under this system. It is quite certain that one may go up and 
down the avenues of New York City and meet devout, prayerful 
Catholic souls who, though clad in hood or tattered garments, are 
as prayerful as the fathers of the Thebaid, and are as instant in 
season and out of season in resisting the demands of the in- 
ferior nature, and all because their hearts have been touched 
by the divine love. Authority in religion is not an overhang- 
ing cloud to shut out the sun, but is rather like the railroad 
track to guide and to facilitate the progress of the train. The 
engineer as he starts from the depot knows every inch of his 
way, the rails will keep him from wandering across fields and 
being wrecked in the ditches, and instead of hindering him from 
reaching his destiny only the more readily help him to attain 
his end. It is easily conceivable that a people who have no 
worrying cares about their doctrinal beliefs can far more read- 
ily turn their attention to the fixing up of their lives from an 
ethical point of view. While, on the other hand, th-ey to whom 
the question of " what must I believe " is like an open sore, 
will very soon find that their moral life will get into the same 
unhealthy condition. 

The Outlook seems to have some curious notions about ob- 
jective truth. It would appear that "spiritual truth" is only a 
mental impression. It has no permanent or pervading existence 
outside one's own comprehension of it. The writer says: " No 
dogma can possibly state spiritual truth in a permanent form." 
The prevailing idea of *' spiritual truth," like any other truth, is 
that it is permanent yesterday, to-day, and for ever unalterably 
the same. Truth, like God, is unchangeable. The Ten Com- 
mandmentsand what more comprehensive " spiritual truths " 
are there than these? are just as true to-day as they were when 
uttered on Mount Sinai, and will be just as true at the crack 
of doom. Dogma is only an expression of a divine fact, as the 
Commandment is the expression of a moral fact. These divine 
facts were revealed at sundry times and in divers ways, placed 
in the deposit of truth to be faithfully kept and infallibly 
declared by the one whom the God of truth has constituted as 
the guardian of the deposit. 

The world will never be converted to the truth by minimizing 
its meaning or explaining away and softening down its plenary 
signification to suit the hard heart and dull ears of a worldly 
generation. There is such a thing as an attractive presentation 
of truth, but instead of lessening its value such a presentation 
only heightens its importance. 



6 THE PAPAL LETTER AND THE " OUTLOOK:' [April, 

Father Hecker frequently gave expression to these state- 
ments. There is no one who wooed divine truth with such a 
lover's devotion as he, and there was no one who was prouder 
of its attributes, so ever ready to speak of them in any as- 
semblage, and almost frantic in his desire to tell the whole 
truth and nothing, but the truth. He would have counted it 
treachery, and himself a traitor, to have explained away or to 
have apologized for one iota of the truth. One of the best 
statements against minimizing was written by Father Hewit in 
an article entitled " Pure vs. Diluted Catholicism," published in 
1895.* In fact, the whole non-Catholic mission movement, from 
the day of its inception to the present moment, has constantly 
held in its front the statement "that we shall never lead our 
erring brethren to a knowledge of the truth by making light 
of the differences which exist between them and ourselves, or 
by mitigating the doctrine that out of the Church there is no 
salvation. Almighty God having instituted a way of salvation, 
has instituted no other." 

But while there is in the Catholic system this " infallible, un- 
changeable dogma," this continuing " in one and the same doc- 
trine, one and the same sense, and one and the same judgment " 
(Const, de fide, chap iv., Cone. Vatican), it does not necessitate 
an " immobile unalterable life." For the spiritual life is un- 
doubtedly a growth through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. 
" He that believeth in Me, as the Scripture saith, out of his 
belly shall flow rivers of living water. Now this he said of the 
Spirit which they should receive who believed in him " (St. 
John vii. 38, 39). This same Spirit is the one who originates 
the good desire as well as the one who bestows the grace to 
carry it to completion. He is the one who has regenerated us 
by instituting a new relationship between the soul and God 
whereby we are enabled to cry, Abba, Father. He plants the 
seeds of a Christian life in the regenerated soil of our hearts 
and by the abundant showers of his grace he germinates that 
seed. He fosters it in its growth until truly we can say that 
" I live, not I but Christ liveth in me." "The charity of 
God is poured out in our hearts by the Holy Ghost who is 
given to us "(Rom. v. 5). Herein is established that wonderful 
union between the soul and God, far more close than that be- 
tween friend and friend, so close that very often the soul is 
called the spouse of God. 

As in a city there are the external ramparts which protect 

* American Catholic Quarterly, July, 1895. 



1899-] THE PAPAL LETTER AND THE "OUTLOOK" 7 

the city in its outer defences and guard the people from being 
carried away into the darkness of slavery, so also there is the 
internal civic life whereby the laws are kept and the refine- 
ments of civilization are cultivated, libraries established, and art 
galleries fostered. In just the sdme way in the city of the soul : 
while there are the external barriers of defined truth, the 
dogmatic teachings which preserve the soul from straying away 
into the slavery of falsehood and error, there is also the inner 
life begun and carried to the * full stature of Christ " by the 
indwelling of the Holy Spirit.* 

To most Catholics who live godly lives the existence of the 
outer ramparts is rarely felt. They^have a consciousness that 
they are safely protected within a fortified city of truth, and 
with a sense of security they are enabled to cultivate the higher 
life, to cleanse, to adorn, and to decorate the temple of their 
souls in which the Spirit of God dwelleth. 

In this city of the soul the Holy Ghost rules both as civil 
governor to promote the higher life of the citizen as well as mili- 
tary commander to guard the outer ramparts of the common- 
wealth. While he inspires each one to action, he also dwells in 
the church to guard the deposit of truth. It may happen at 
times that one seems to be inspired to do what the exter- 
nal authority forbids. In which case such private inspiration is 
to be forsaken, for only to the external authority has the gift 
of infallibility been imparted. No one expresses the synthesis 
of this double action of the Holy Ghost better than Father 
Hecker in the following passage : 

" The Holy Spirit, which, through the authority of the 
church, teaches divine truth, is the same Spirit which prompts 
the soul to receive the divine truths which he teaches. The 
measure of our love for the Holy Spirit is the measure of our 
obedience to the authority of the church ; and the measure of 
our obedience to the authority of the church is the measure of 
our love for the Holy Spirit. Hence the sentence of St. Au- 
gustine : ' Quantum quisque amat ecclesiam Dei, tantum habet 
Spiritum sanctum.' In case of obscurity or doubt concerning 
what is divinely revealed truth, or whether what prompts the 
soul is or is not an inspiration of the Holy Spirit, recourse 
must be had to the divine teacher or criterion, the authority 
of the church. For it must be borne in mind that to the 
church, as represented in the first instance by St. Peter, and 
subsequently by his successors, was made the promise of her 

* These relations of the Holy Spirit in the individual soul, as well as in the one true 
Church, are most clearly and beautifully expressed in the Encyclical Letter of the Holy 
Father on " The Office of and Devotion to the Holy Ghost." 



8 THE PAPAL LETTER AND THE "OUTLOOK" [April. 

Divine Founder, that * the gates of hell should never prevail 
against her/ No such promise was ever made by Christ to each 
individual believer. * The church of the living God is the pillar 
and ground of truth.' The test, therefore, of a truly enlight- 
ened and sincere Christian will be, in case of uncertainty, the 
promptitude of his obedience to the voice of the church. . . . 
The criterion or test that the soul is guided by the Holy 
Spirit is its ready obedience to the authority of the church " 
{Church and the Age, page 34) v 

This statement indicates as well what an obedient and sub- 
missive child of the church Isaac Thomas Hecker was, and 
were he alive to-day he would be the very first to signify his 
adherence to the teachings of the Holy Father as announced 
in the late letter to Cardinal Gibbons. 

We have every reason to be grateful to the Holy Father 
for the luminous exposition of Catholic truth as well as for the 
condemnation of the many errors which have been paraded 
under the garb of " Americanism." It has always been of the 
genius of error to snatch the robes of respectability and wrap 
itself about with the mantle of truth. But the Holy Father as 
watchman on the tower of Israel has seen through the disguise, 
and with a masterly hand has snatched away the false mask 
and revealed the errors in all their nakedness. 




CASTER SYMPHONY. 

I he air is stirred With tuneful sounds and sWeet 
With joyous murmurings. [Wry glad, free thing 

I hat breaks the sod or lifts a rapturous Wing 
Assays its note of praise. Yet incomplete 

I he song: as though orchestral fairies meet, 
With timid fingers trying string on string, 

r striding each \\\s little part to sing, 
Yet Waiting for the master's rallying beat. 

Arise, (9 maq, and lead t^e eager choir! 
book, past the Spring -surfs liberating rays; 
| hou only see'st the | \isen Lford beyond. 
cDound "<Alleluia's" l^eynote on, th,y lyre, 

I hen shall a sympl^ony of finest praise 

U\r\k all earth's music in harmonious bond. 

M. A. BLANCHET, 








"RAMONA'S" HOME. 

BY M. B. JORDAN. 

N this age of railroads and newspapers, of elec- 
tricity and vitascopes, with all of the burdens of 
civilization pressing in upon us, California with 
its eventful past, its dreamy atmosphere, and 
quaint old architecture seems a veritable Eldo- 
rado, the entrance, as it were, to those long looked-for " Cas- 
tles in Spain." The admixture of foreign blood has left, so to 
speak, a dash of color, of romance, on the most remote homes 
and unattractive landscapes. In the out-of-door life, the soft 
flowing speech, and the freedom from prudential wisdom one 
traces everywhere the results of climate and alien instincts. To 
a student of language the fact that to-day, in even the common 
speech, one hears a gully called a barranca ; a water-jar, an 
olla (oy-yah) ; a street, a calle ; a house or home, casa or resi- 
dencia, shows the history in a nutshell of Rus- 
sian, Spanish, English, and Mexican supremacy. 
From San Francisco south, one can almost 
trace the epochs through which California has 
struggled from those early days of romance 
and passion when, as Bancroft says : " Cali- 
^ fornia was the elf-child of the Union, not yet 
regularly baptized into the family of States 
a child which felt the isolation of its foreign 
^ blood, the pride of her dreamy ancestry, and 

the self-assurance of unbounded native re- 
sources "; those times when the fourteen Franciscan missions 
were the centres of life, spiritual, mental, and physical, down 
to the present when those missions stand, partly in ruins, dese- 
crated, robbed of their lands, their money, and their preroga- 
tives. 

In no part of California is to be found a more typical 
example of Spanish influence than the Camulos Ranch, which, 




1 899. 



RAMONA'S" HOME. 



i 1 




situated on the oldest grant of mission 

land forty miles back from the sea, is the 

scene of Helen Hunt Jackson's Ramona. 

In the early part of this century the 

Camulos Ranch covered the area that is 

claimed for it in the story. Its lands, 

which consisted of gifts from the church 

and commandants, stretched from the San Fernando Mountains 

down to Santa Barbara, touching the sea at Buena Ventura, 

giving the old sefiora in the story her bit of sea-shore. 

The old mission built in 1780 still stands in Santa Barbara, 
where the wedding of the first Moreno is described as taking 
place. This mission is of mixed Spanish-Moorish architecture, 
somewhat more pretentious than the others. One can still see 
the beautiful gardens with their famous Old Mission grape- 
vines, the olive and orange orchards, the 
severely plain interior of the chapel, the ir- 
regular steps winding up to the bell tower, 
the shady, pillared corridor off which the 
priests' rooms opened, and the school for In- 
dian children, all serving to give the picture 
a most un-American setting. Back of the mis- 
sion on the mountain side a broad white scar 
may be plainly seen a scar made there over 
a century ago by the timbers which were 
dragged down from the forests beyond by In- 
dians to build this little chapel. In this day 
of strife and strikes over hours and wages this 
furrowed mountain side is a powerful reminder of the compel- 
ling force that the Franciscans exerted over those lazy, lawless 
bands of Indians. 

Following in the footsteps of Father Junipero Serra, a party 
of us, wishing to visit " Ramona's " home, took the path lead- 
ing along the coast from Santa Barbara to Buena Ventura. 
From Ventura we followed 
the dry river bed of the 
winding Sespe, back through 
the beautiful valley, some- 
times yellow with jungles 
of wild mustard, sometimes 
sweet with the fragrance of y 
orange blossoms, by the 
grazing lands of the Sespe, 





12 



HOME. 



[April, 




which had been used as early as 1780 by the mission flocks ; 
gradually rising until we found ourselves in the valley owned 
by the Del Valles, the proprietors for more than a century of 
the Camulos Ranch. 

Never was treatment more realistic than the setting " H. H." 
gave her story, but surely realism was never more perfectly ideal 
than the way in which the old ranch, with its vineyards, its fra- 
grant orchards, its old Spanish house of adobe brick, its cross- 
capped hills, and even its crowd 
of Indian and Mexican children, 
fitted into the plot of Ramona. 
Howells himself could scarcely 
? have been more correctly minute 
in his descriptions of this quaint 
old home and its surroundings than 
was Helen Hunt Jackson. 

Just as one would expect from 
the story, after the highway was 

left behind the low, open barns and sheep corrals came first in 
sight, then the back of the house, as you remember that the 
old sefiora in Ramona thanked the saints every day that her 
house expressed the scornful attitude she always longed to take 
toward the " usurping Americanos." Owing to its almost entire 
lack of windows, the exterior of the house was forbidding 
enough, until the front, or southern exposure, was reached, and 
there was the vine-covered porch with its irregular steps, its 
quaint Mexican water-jars, and its beautiful carved old benches 
from the desecrated mission of San Luis Rey. 

The old adobe house was built in General Del Valle's time, 
after the plan of Spanish houses, in the form of a hollow 
square around an open court or quadrangle ; the servants' quar- 
ters at one end, with the store-room, the living-rooms, the old 
priest's room all opening, as did the windows, upon an inner 
porch which extended entirely around the court. In this open 
space, perhaps one hundred feet by eighty, there were beauti- 
ful roses and fragrant Cape 
jasmine growing around 
splashing fountains. Among 
the orange and pomegran- 
ate-trees south of the 
house was the tile-roofed 
chapel with its chime of 
bells, the centre one brought |-jp^- (u> 




RAMONA'S" HOME. 




from Spain ; there was 
the grape-arbor, and, 
as if to make the illu- 
sion or the realism 
more perfect, as we 
sat there reading the 
opening chapters of 
Ramona, down the 
porch came an aged I 
but queenly looking : 
woman, whom one 
would have sworn was 
the Sefiora Moreno 
herself. After we had 
talked with her of the 
history of this inter- 
esting place, we felt 
that " H. H." had not 
only given a wonder- 
fully accurate picture of the surroundings of her heroine, but 
had caught and put in her characterization of the sefiora some- 
thing which made us 
feel too " that this 
sefiora before us had 
had a life that would 
have made a romance 
to grow hot and cold 
over eighty years of 
the best of Old Spain 
and the wildest of New 
Spain, Bay of Biscay, 
City of Mexico, Pacific 

Ocean! The waves of all of them had tossed 
destinies for the sefiora, but the Holy Church 
had kept its protecting arms about her all these 
years." 

She wore the scant black serge gown which, 
with its crucifix and beads, reminded one of a 
priest's robe. The madame must have been a 
woman of rare strength of character and culture, 
for at the time of the expulsion of the Francis- 
cans she was, by special permit from the head 
of the church, given the power to perform the 





RAMONA' s" HOME. 



[April, 




three sacraments of baptism, marriage, and burial. 
With the courage of a man and the gentleness 
of a woman she had worked for years among her 
serving people, and accomplished what many a 
priest had sighed to do. 

In her possession are some of the rarest relics 
of the early life of California : annals of the old- 
est missions, reports of the work of the blessed 
Father Junipero, records of the English and Rus- 
sian supremacy, of Fremont, of Pico, of Castro, 
of the first newspaper, the first home manufac- 
ture, the railroad, the gold fever indeed one 
might almost say that in her chapel at the Camulos Ranch tlie 
madame had not only the annals but the real life of California 
of the past. 

Though there can be no doubt that the madame and her 
son were the originals for the portraits of Sefiora Moreno and 
Felipe, and that every touch in the descriptive 
part was true to the scene before us, yet it 
was with something of a pang that we learned 
that Ramona and Alessandro existed only in 
Helen Hunt's brain ; indeed, that such sensi- 
tive refinement, such pathetic simplicity and 
faith, among the Indians had long since passed 
V away. But in that ideal world of letters, where 
everything is possible, they lived and loved and 
suffered, and all day we followed them, living 
over in imagination the uneventful life of the child Ramona. 
From her earliest memory she had been coldly repulsed by the 
unswerving justice of the sefiora, but she had always reached 
out toward love and beauty with all of the strength of her 
Spanish blood. In this isolated life, cut off from all friendship 
and sympathy, she had grown up a deeply religious child, full of 

love for the church service 
and the beautiful flowers. 

When Alessandro, the 
son of one of the converted 
and intelligent San Pablo 
Indians, first came to the 
ranch, Ramona was strongly 
attracted towards him, and 
when the sefiora cruelly dis- 
closed to the girl what was 





RAMONA' s" HOME. 




to the world a bar sinister across 
her name, that her mother had been 
an Indian, Ramona, with all of the 
force of heredity, blood, and instinct, 
turned to her people, glad that, as 
one of them, she could help the man 
she loved. 

At the south-east corner of the 
house we were shown Ramona's win- 
dow, before which she sang her sunrise hymn and under whose 
casement Alessandro watched and waited when she was in need 
of him. There was the porch where Felipe passed his long 
convalescence listening to Alessandro's violin-playing. There, 

too, were the sheep- 
shearing booths and 
the orchard walks 
where Ramona first 
met Alessandro ; the 
chapel, the mustard 
thickets, and back of 
all the mountain where 
race instinct taught 
them to flee from the 
seftora's wrath. The 
story of their flight from one refuge to another, the worth- 
lessness of their land titles, are but a pathetic version, set 
down in every history, of those troublous times when land com- 
missioners played fast-and-loose with promise and grant made 
alike by church and state. 

All day the story of Ramona seemed most visibly before 
us, for under the wil- 
lows at the end of 
the arbor the most 
desultory sort of 
washing was going 
on in a brook, the 
apparatus consisting 
of a paddle and the 
stones over which 
the water trickled. 
The Indian men and 
boys were picking 
up almonds, while 





i6 



RAMONA'S" HOME. 



[April, 




the women and children shucked them under the 
trees ; here also their dinner was served to them. 
Thus the whole domestic economy took place out 
of doors, accompanied by a great deal of singing 
and not very vigorous motions. 

The Camulos Ranch has shrunken sadly from 
its dimensions in its prosperous days, when it 
reached from the San Fernando Mountains to the 
sea ; but there, on all the neighboring hills, the 
crosses still stand, outlining the boundaries of what 
has been one of the strongest influences in the life of California 
the Franciscan idea of patriarchal government. 

The last effective touch was 
given to this day spent in so 
foreign an atmosphere when, as 
the sun's last rays touched the 
crosses on the eastern hills, the 
bells began to chime and, led 
by a youthful acolyte, a proces- 
sion headed by the madame, who 
was followed by her family and 
all her serving people, wound through the garden to the chapel, 
solemnly chanting their sunset hymn. And as we went out into 
the world of progress with the sound of that intoned evening 
service in our ears, we were content that Ramona and Ales- 
sandro should have been ideals, since the real life we had seen 
that day had so much of romance about it. 





1899-] LOVE'S RESURRECTION. 17 

LOVE'S RESURRECTION. 

BY EDITH GRAINGER CHARLTON. 

HERE, that un ain't wuth nuthin'." 

Jacob Stern pushed the small woolly animal 
out of the way with his foot. It certainly did 
not look worth much, that wee lamb only two 
days old, as it lay on a bunch of straw gasping 
its little life away. It was very small, very thin, and very 
ugly. It seeme'd all legs. If its eyes had been either open or 
shut it might have excited more pity, but there was some- 
thing almost repulsive in the half-closed orbs that had the 
death-film over them. 

" Yes, it '11 be as dead as a door-nail in half an hour, I tell 
ye," the man continued, as he gave his attention to other more 
likely lambs of his flock. But Sarah Stern watched the dying 
creature with a growing pity in her eyes. She had stood near 
her husband when he kicked it, and a pain shot through her 
heart when the big, coarse boot touched the helpless thing. A 
moment longer she watched, then stooping down she gathered 
the ugly, shivering lamb into her checked apron and started 
for the house. 

There was nothing to suggest tenderness or pity in the re- 
treating figure of Sarah Stern. Her back was stiff and straight. 
Determination and repression were written on those broad, flat 
shoulders and in that springless walk. There was nothing to 
awaken a thought of pity in the awkward figure in its short, 
scant skirt, flapping the tops of the heavy shoes, as it took a 
.near cut to the house across the corner of the ploughed field. 
Her face, when she turned an instant to see if she were fol- 
lowed, was scarcely more attractive. It was wrinkled, yellow, 
and dried, and resembled a leaf which had withered in the 
unfolding. The eyes were cold, the lips firmly pressed together, 
and the iron-gray hair was wiry and lifeless. It would never 
occur to any one to ask Sarah Stern for sympathy, but just 
now, when she opened one corner of the blue and white apron 
and looked again at the motionless thing she carried, there was 
a strange expression on her face. New and strange as it was, 
it did not look out of place on those homely features. 

VOL. LXIX. 2 



1 8 LOVE'S RESURRECTION. [April, 

"I believe he's gettin' harder every day," she muttered, as 
she hurried along. " Laws, I guess we've both bin gettin' 
harder and colder sence ' 

The sentence was left unfinished, but the heavy sigh and the 
one word " Mamie " that quivered through the thin lips told 
there was much not said in that unfinished sentence. 

" You '11 live, little lamb ; you '11 live just for the sake of them 
old days." The woman was crooning over the lamb now as it 
lay on a ragged shawl under the kitchen stove. Sarah Stern, who 
had never been known to say a caressing word in twenty years, 
was lifting that morsel of life with the tenderness she might 
have bestowed on an infant. She coaxed a few drops of warm 
milk between the lamb's nerveless lips, covered it snugly with 
the shawl, and then sat down beside it to await 'results. 

When Jacob came into the house an hour later the lamb 
had recovered sufficiently to open its eyes, and its breathing 
was more regular. Sarah's face wore a brighter expression than 
it had for years. Jacob saw it and wondered. 

" Queer creatures women be," he muttered. " There, she 's 
looking more pleased over that mis'able lamb than I ever sed 
her look at me sence "; and Jacob stopped abruptly when he 
reached the point in his sentence where his wife had faltered 
an hour before. 

Like other men, when Jacob Stern was puzzled he was apt 
to be unreasonable. He strode over to the stove, lifted the 
shawl none too gently and looked at the lamb. 

" 'Tain't no use coddlin' that thing. I told you it wunt 
wuth nuthin', and it ain't. Ye '11 see it '11 die and ye '11 hev 
ye're trouble fur nuthin'." 

" If I want to waste my time over a sick lamb it ain't none 
of your affairs," was the gruff answer that Jacob received for 
his prying. 

Between the preparations for dinner Sarah found many op- 
portunities to visit the corner behind the stove and watch the 
struggle between life and death that was going on there. 
Sometimes her eyes were bright and sometimes troubled, when 
she went back to the potato-paring or table-setting ; it all de- 
pended on the progress nature was making in its fight with 
death. At dinner the man and woman were silent. They were 
never talkative, but there were frequently remarks to exchange 
about the condition of the weather or the crops ; to-day there 
was none. But twice they looked at each other and caught a 
look in the other's eyes that made the shadow of some remem- 



1899-] LOVE' s RESURRECTION. 19 

bered thought flit over their faces. Each was conscious of it 
and each wanted to hide it from the other. Cold and apathetic 
as these two were, there was an undercurrent in their lives that 
was being stirred to-day. Sarah showed it by being more cold 
and reserved than ever. Jacob showed it by being more than 
usually irritable. The lamb seemed to be the cause of his ill- 
nature. It was able now to bleat feebly at intervals, and there 
was an occasional wriggling under the shawl that betokened 
greater activity shortly. 

"You surely don't expect to keep that creature around the 
house if it should live a day or two. 'Twon't last more 'n 
that I know," Jacob said, while he changed his old house-coat 
for an older one that he wore about the barn. 

" I haven't said yet what I was a-going to do, and I guess 
you hev your hands full with them other lambs at the barn 
without troubling about this one " ; and Sarah caught up the 
remains of the roast pork and went down cellar to escape 
further questioning. When she came back Jacob had gone and 
the kitchen was quiet. 

" He don't seem to have any more heart than a stone. 
He can't seem to think about anything t that isn't big and 
strong and will bring in money. Money! money! that's all 
we either seem to live fur now. O Mamie ! it might hev bin 
different if you'd hev stayed with us." The voice that was irri- 
table at first sank to a wail of grief, the gray head dropped 
on the table, and Sarah Stern wept bitterly. Great sobs that 
shook her from head to foot sounded through the quiet kitchen 
and the stillness was oppressive with that terrible sorrow. 
Sarah did not cry often. Tears did not come readily to her 
eyes, her grief would have been lighter if they had. Deep 
sorrows, like deep waters, are not easily stirred ; when either is 
moved there is a change in consequence. 

The clock struck the half-hour since Jacob left the house. 
The dinner-table was still covered with the remains of the last 
meal. The fire had gone out and the lamb under the stove 
was very quiet. The woman's head was still bowed on her 
arm. Her sobs had ceased and she sat there motionless. In 
the silence of that hour Sarah Stern saw a pleasant vision. 

It was twilight in the summer-time. The evening meal had 
been finished an hour ago, and Sarah sat by the open window, 
through which the sweet-scented honeysuckle nodded, and 
hemmed a child's white frock. Jacob's broad back could he seen 



20 LOVE' s RESURRECTION. [April, 

in the distance leaning over the gate he had just closed on his 
herd of cows. The sleek creatures were wading knee-deep 
through the dewy grass looking for the juiciest bite in that lus- 
cious field of clover. They were not hungry, and soon they laid 
down one by one among the rank grass and were satisfied. In 
the pool over by the woods the frogs were croaking and an 
occasional June-bug flew against Jacob's hat in its flight towards 
the light. The air was heavy with the perfume of clover and 
wild flowers. Nature was in her most delightful mood and man 
and beast were content. The stillness in the house was broken 
by a childish voice saying, as a little figure stepped over the 
door-stone : 

" Mamma, I want to sleep with my pet lamb; he's all 
alone to-night." 

"What '11 mamma do if Mamie sleeps in Billy's pen? She'll 
be all alone then." 

" Oh ! you 've got papa, and poor Billy hasn't anybody to 
keep him company. Let me sleep with him just for to-night, 
mamma ? " 

Sarah put down her sewing and took the little one in her 
arms. She was a sturdy little miss, her big hazel eyes, shaded 
by long, dark lashes, were troubled now when she thought of 
her playmate spending the night alone. The mother pushed 
back the mass of yellow curls and looked in the baby face that 
already had a woman's tenderness dawning in it. 

"Will Mamie leave mamma and sleep out-doors with Billy? 
She '11 be very cold I'm afraid." 

" 'Tisn't a bit cold to-night, mamma ; and besides I '11 lay 
close beside Billy, and his wool is very warm you know. Do 
let me go, mamma." 

What was the use of arguing ? The child's heart was set 
upon it, coaxing would not convince her, so better let her find 
out for herself the foolishness of her plan. 

" Get your night-gown and pillow, then, and mamma will 
undress her little girl." 

The child needed no second bidding and in a moment was 
back on her mother's lap trying to hurry the undressing pro- 
cess. All the time the mother talked about how dark Billy's 
pen would be after awhile, how there was no soft bed in it, 
and no one would be near to hear her if she called. But the 
little girl was firm, and taking her pillow she started for the 
garden. The mother followed, for the first time thinking it 
might be difficult to make the maiden change her mind. 



1899-] LOVE' s RESURRECTION. 21 

It was very quiet in the lamb's pen. The twilight had 
deepened into night and only a few stars looked down from a 
dark sky. Billy was lying in the corner, quite oblivious to the 
concern of his little mistress for his comfort. She peeped 
through the bars at the lamb curled up on the grass, then she 
looked up into her mother's face. There was a short mental 
struggle ending in a sigh of perplexity, then two arms were 
reached up to the mother's neck and a quivering voice said : 

"It is dark, isn't it, mamma? and Billy doesn't seem to 
care 's much as you do ; so I guess Mamie '11 sleep with you and 
papa." 

An hour later Sarah was telling it all to Jacob as they 
stood by the bedside and watched their sleeping child. The 
mother laughed for the fulness of her love and the father 
stooped to kiss the sunny curls on the pillow, then kissed his 
wife as she stood beside him. 

The scene changed, and time turned back a few more 
years in its record. Now Jacob and Sarah Stern* were stand- 
ing hand-in-hand in the kitchen of their home. It was a 
plainly furnished room, but there seemed to be a halo over the 
common deal table, the painted chairs, and the bare floor. 
The man and woman had been married a few days before and 
had come for the first time into their new home the place 
dearer than all the world to them, the centre of their ambitions 
and their hopes. 

" We '11 gather the sunbeams together, love, and we '11 go 
hand-in-hand through the shadows," Jacob said tenderly as he 
drew his wife close to him. 

u Yes, Jacob, we are all the world to one another and life 
cannot be very hard," Sarah answered. 

Another shifting of memory's pictures and now a thick, 
dark curtain seemed to obscure the light. Jacob and Sarah 
were standing on either side of a small casket, looking down 
with dry, strained eyes on a dead baby's face wreathed in sun- 
ny curls. The happy, loving, laughing Mamie, the most pre- 
cious part of that home, had been taken out of it, and the 
father and mother refused to be comforted. The blow had 
been so swift, so cruel ; a few days of acute suffering that no 
human aid could ease, then the hazel eyes closed under the 
long lashes and the sunshine went out of that home and never 
since returned to it. P>om that day there was a change in 
Jacob Stern and his wife. Instead of sorrow bringing them 
closer together, it rested as a barrier between them. The little 



22 LOVE'S RESURRECTION. [April, 

child had been the idol which each worshipped, and now that 
it was broken each seemed to blame the other for the loss. 
They grew indifferent, then cold and hard, and farther apart as 
each year passed. They tried to forget their grief in gaining 
wealth, so they clutched their possessions with a selfish, greedy 
grasp. 

Slowly the years passed in silent review before Sarah's 
vision as she sat with bowed head in the quiet kitchen. She 
recognized them all, no incident was forgotten. Gradually the 
consciousness came that there had been a mistake, that life had 
been hard because it had not been travelled together, because 
she and Jacob had not gone hand-in-hand through the 
shadows. With the conviction came the longing to hear again 
the tenderness of her husband's voice as he spoke to her in 
those early days. The longing became more intense until the 
woman's body quivered beneath it. Just then the lamb under the 
stove began to bleat and Sarah arose ; the vision had vanished. 

Mechanically she gave the creature a few spoonfuls of milk, 
stirred the fire into a blaze, drew the kettle of 'dish-water over 
the flames and gathered up the dinner dishes. Her face was 
pale and set, but down in the depths of her eyes there was a 
gleam that had not been there for twenty years. Carefully she 
performed her afternoon tasks, then took her sewing-basket 
and sat down near the stove to patch one of Jacob's faded shirts. 
There was no sign of emotion in her face or actions, nothing but 
that new gleam in her eye. Evening came and she set the table 
for supper. She laid it with unusual care and apparently un- 
thinkingly brought out the dishes she had used in her early 
married life. Almost unconsciously she prepared the same 
things for supper as she did on the night she and Jacob took 
their first meal together. There was the same kind of cake, a 
plate of hot biscuits, and she emptied a can of plums into the 
same glass dish that had held the same kind of fruit on that night. 
Sarah Stern was a careful, methodical woman ; there was little 
outward change in her home in all those years. When supper 
was ready she went to her bedroom and drew a piece of faded 
blue ribbon out of the bureau drawer. She tied it round her 
neck, then smiled grimly at the delicate color against her sallow 
face ; it was the same ribbon she had worn when a bride. 

" What 's the use of it all ? Tain't likely he '11 notice any- 
thing; he don't care fur sich things now," she half sobbed as 
she looked again in a bit of broken mirror and then went out 
to put the tea to steep. 



1899-] LOVE'S RESURRECTION. 23 

Strange what destinies shape our lives! Strange how the 
thoughts in one mind are those uppermost in another's! Jacob 
Stern saw many of the same pictures that afternoon that his 
wife had seen. They came to him as he tended the sheep and 
looked after the rest of his stock. Every time he went to the 
sheep-fold the figure of a little girl with golden curls seemed 
to walk near him, and each time he passed into the cow-shed 
a woman's pleading eyes seemed to follow him and a woman's 
voice seemed to say, " We'll go through life together, Jacob." 

" It's all nonsense," the man said as he brought in the 
straw to bed the cows, "but I wonder if she'd notice if I tried 
to act a bit as we did that night " ; then he laughed to himself 
as he thought of gruff, ugly old Jacob Stern making love to 
his wife. 

They drew their chairs silently to the supper-table. Neither 
had spoken since Jacob came into the house, but Sarah noticed 
that her husband had gone to the stove to look at the lamb 
when he thought she was not looking. Jacob saw the faded 
ribbon round his wife's neck and there was a queer clutching 
at his heart, but he made no remark on his observations. The 
meal was almost finished, though neither had eaten much. 
Jacob had broken one of the hot biscuits, then pushed it from 
him, and a moment later he choked on a mouthful of plums. 
Sarah made scarcely a pretence at eating. In a moment Jacob 
would push back his chair and go out to the barn again ; she 
could almost hear her heart while she waited for him to go. 
Just then the lamb gave a feeble bleat, and the man and wo- 
man, looking up at the same instant, saw that new, strange 
gleam in each other's eyes. 

" Sarah ! " 

"Jacob!" 

It was all they said, but time rolled back twenty years in 
that instant and love that had been dead all that time was 
alive again. As they stood with their arms about each other 
and their faded, wrinkled faces pressed close together Jacob 
said : 

" We went through the shadows apart, dear, but we may 
still find a few sunbeams at the last." 

And Sarah answered : " Yes, Jacob, we '11 be all the world to 
one another and life will lose its hardness." 

Again the lamb under the stove gave a feeble cry. 




24 AN ENGLISH VIEW OF BROWN SON'S CONVERSION. [April, 



AN ENGLISH VIEW OF BROWNSON'S CONVER- 
SION. 

BY REV. WILLIAM L. GILDEA, D.D. 

IN the well-known work Catholic Belief a list is given 
of some of the more eminent converts to the 
Catholic Church in America. The list includes 
statesmen, judges, generals, authors of note, 
famous men of science, and distinguished eccle- 
siastics ; but one name towers like a mountain peak above the 
rest the name of Orestes A. Brownson, who is stated, by the 
author of Catholic Belief, to have been called by the famous 
English statesman, lawyer, and man of letters, Lord Brougham, 
the " master 'mind of America." We have never met with this 
statement elsewhere, though an allusion to it may perhaps be 
found in a letter addressed to Brownson, in 1841, by R. Barne- 
wall Rhett, a well-known South Carolina congressman of that time. 
In his Review Brownson had criticised favorably a speech delivered 
by Mr. Rhett on a matter of importance which was then much 
engaging public attention. In a letter of thanks, printed in the 
very interesting volume entitled Brownson 's Early Life, which 
Mr. H. F. Brownson, the son of the eminent writer, has recent- 
ly published, Mr. Rhett wrote : " If I needed encouragement 
to sustain me in the advocacy of the great truths which lie at 
the basis of our free institutions, and which I have endeavored 
to elucidate in this speech, it would be the strong voice of 
cheering and approbation from him whom the first mind in 
England has pronounced to be the greatest genius in America." 
But, whether the statement ascribed to him was actually made 
by Lord Brougham or not, there can be no doubt that Orestes 
A. Brownson was one of the most eminent thinkers and 
writers that America has ever produced. The conversion of a 
man like Brownson was no mere passing incident. It was a 
turning point in the history of the church in America. 

MANY MENTAL PHASES. 

Brownson's mind passed through many phases before it found 
rest in the Catholic Church. His boyhood and youth were 
passed amongst Congregationalists. At the age of nineteen he 
became a Presbyterian. A few months later he declared him- 






1 899.] AN ENGLISH VIEW OF BROWNSON'S CONVERSION. 25 

self a Universalist ; and in the year 1826, at a session of the 
New Hampshire Universalist Association, was " set apart to 
the work of the ministry by solemn public ordination." In 
1830 he seceded from the Universalists, and early in the fol- 
lowing year was preaching in Ithaca, " as an independent min- 
ister, not connected with any sect or denomination." In the 
summer of the following year he became a Unitarian minister, 
and such he remained till a short time before his reception into 
the Catholic Church. It might perhaps be inferred from these 
many changes that Brownson's earlier religious views were want- 
ing in earnestness and sincerity. Such an inference would be, 
however, entirely false. Religion was always with Brownson 
the most serious factor in his life. He had a solid reason for 
every step that he took, as we shall proceed to show. 

HIS STUDIOUS YOUTH. 

Brownson's boyhood was a studious one. He had no mas- 
ter to instruct him the family circumstances did not permit of 
this but he had learned to read, and if he did not possess 
books of his own, he could at least borrow those of others, and 
the books thus obtained, to use his own expression, he " de- 
voured." He has left a list of the books he read before he 
reached his fourteenth year. We find no "children's books" 
amongst them. They are all of a solid, serious cast : historical 
works, classical works of English literature, even philosophical 
works, like Locke's Essay on the Human Understanding a most 
astonishing list for a self-taught boy. But of all the books read 
by him at this time none, as he himself tells us, was read with 
" a more intense interest " than the Bible. What is this Book ? 
he often asked himself. The Word of God ? Clearly, in a cer- 
tain sense, it must be that. The word of God is found in all 
truth. The word of God is especially found in the higher and 
sublimer truths. And what truths so high and sublime as those 
that are found in the Bible ? What book or collection of books 
can set before us so high a standard of morality or so perfect 
a system of doctrine ? But is the Bible, in very truth, the 
Word of God ? Were they who wrote* it inspired by God, 
moved to write by the impulse of God, guided as they wrote 
by the hand of God, freed from the risk of error by the watch- 
ful care of God ? This was the question that Brownson set to 
himself. It is a question that he cannot answer. The honest 
farmer folk with whom he spent his boyhood were, as Mr. H. 
F. Brownson informs us, " not very religious in their practice, 
though strict in their morals." This we take to mean that 



26 AN ENGLISH VIE w OF BRO WN SON'S CONVERSION. [April, 

though they led decent, sober, God-fearing lives, they attended 
neither church nor chapel. They can bring no light to dissi- 
pate his darkness. There is no one to solve the doubt, and 
the doubt remains. 

FIRST SERIOUS DOUBTS. 

In the year 1822 we find Brownson engaged as a journey- 
man in James Comstock's printing-office, at Ballston Spa, Sara- 
toga County, New York. His doubts are with him still. Indeed, 
they have increased with the lapse of time. This state of un- 
certainty is intolerable to him, for his nature is profoundly re- 
ligious. But how can the uncertainty be removed ? He has no 
power to remove it. He has done his best, and his best has 
failed. Are his doubts, then, insoluble ? Must they dog his 
steps through the whole course of his life ? Surely, if the Bible be 
the Word of God, there must be somewhere the means of prov- 
ing it so. God cannot have left his Word without an adequate 
warrant and protection. Reason can give no certainty on the 
matter. Then the decision must rest with ecclesiastical author- 
ity. He must place himself, then, under the guidance of eccle- 
siastical authority. And thus, in the year 1822, and at the 
age of nineteen, Brownson, who till now had belonged to no 
religious denomination, became a member of the Presbyterian 
Church, " prepared," says Mr. H. F. Brownson, " to yield to 
ecclesiastical authority with the blind obedience of a Jesuit." 

Brownson, then, has decided that private judgment cannot 
avail to establish the divine origin of the Bible. He seeks the 
proof in ecclesiastical authority. But he is not long in discover- 
ing that Presbyterianism lacked the authority he sought. " How 
do you know the Bible to be the Word of God ? " he asked his 
Presbyterian pastors. " It is perfectly clear," they replied, "that 
it is the Word of God. No reasonable man can doubt that it 
is. We have been always taught to consider it so." " In 
short," replied Brownson, " you individually, or, if you will, 
collectively, but with no greater authority than belongs to you 
as a mass of individuals, believe the Bible to be the Word of 
God. And that is all that you can say. I call that private 
judgment, be it ever so multiplied. I demand something higher 
than that, if I am to believe. I demand the voice of one that 
speaks in the name and with the authority of God. I fail to 
find that voice with you. You admit yourselves that it is not 
with you. Henceforward, your way lies in one direction, mine 
lies in another." And thus Brownson, after a few months of 
membership, severed his connection with the Presbyterians. 



1899-] AN ENGLISH VIEW OF BROWNSON' s CONVERSION. 27 

PATH THROUGH UNIVERSALISM. 

Though he had abandoned Presbyterianism, Brownson had, 
as yet, no wish to finally break with Christianity. U he could 
not convince himself that Christianity was true, he had not yet 
convinced himself that Christianity was false. Was there any 
religious denomination, calling itself Christian, of which, in his 
present state of mind, he might without hypocrisy become a 
member? Such a system seemed to offer itself in Universalism. 
All that Universalism required of its adherents was that they 
should uphold the doctrine of universal salvation. They might 
unite to this doctrine a belief in the divine origin of the Bible, 
and in the divine personality of Christ ; or they might reject 
these latter beliefs. In either case they were good Universal- 
ists. The tessera of the sect was the doctrine of universal 
salvation. So Brownson became a Universalist, and was ordained 
to the ministry in that sect. But Universalism did not long 
retain him. Doubt yielded to scepticism. He convinced him- 
self that the Bible was not the word of God. The raison d'etre 
of his connection with Universalism had thus ceased, and 
Brownson seceded from the sect. 

In 1831 Brownson came before the world as an Indepen- 
dent preacher. Supernaturalism in every form he had now 
discarded. He believed in God and in the moral law. But the 
basis of his belief was not revelation but reason. Where 
reason could carry him, thither he was prepared to go, but no 
farther. He was an advocate of a merely natural religion, a 
devout-minded rationalist. 

HE BECAME A UNITARIAN. 

In the following year, 1831, we find Brownson once more 
connected with a sect, the Unitarian. There was no reason 
why Brownson, in his then state of mind, should not become 
a Unitarian. Unitarians, like himself, accepted a merely natural 
religion. On the other hand, there was good reason why he 
should become one. He had taken up preaching, not as a re- 
spectable means of earning a livelihood, but as a means of doing 
good to others. It was clear to him that, as a recognized 
representative of an influential religious organization, his power 
for good would be greater by far than if he spoke in his own 
name merely. Influenced by this consideration, Brownson ac- 
cepted a pastoral charge amongst the Unitarians. 

Brownson was now very far from the church. But the fault 
was not his. He had never sinned against the light. He had 
not first held the truth and then rejected it. He had never 



28 AN ENGLISH VIE w OF BRO WNSON' s CONVERSION. [April, 

known the truth. As little was there fault in his logic. His 
reason had told him that, if the Bible were the Word of God, 
God could not have left it without an authentic custodian and 
interpreter. He had sought this custodian in Presbyterianism, 
but had failed to find it there. Indeed, the Presbyterians had 
expressly informed him that it was not to be found amongst 
them. They repudiated any claim to infallible authority. They 
made private judgment their sole and sufficient basis. And as 
it was with Presbyterianism, so it was with every form of Pro- 
testantism. Without exception they rested on fallible private 
judgment. Brownson was quite right in inferring that, if the 
Scriptures were, in very truth, the Word of God, they must, 
of necessity, have their divinely appointed custodian and in- 
terpreter. His error lay in his assumption that this divinely 
appointed custodian was to be found in Protestantism or no- 
where. The ideal of the office and work of the true Church, 
which Brownson, even as a youth, had so accurately formed for 
himself, finds its reality in the Catholic Church. But the Catho- 
lic Church was, as yet, unknown to Brownson. 

HE GRASPS THE CHURCH IDEA. 

As a Unitarian Brownson stood in the very foremost rank. 
His eminent talents as a preacher and lecturer, his singleness of 
purpose, his tremendous force of character were gladly and 
universally acknowledged. He exchanged pulpits with the most 
prominent Unitarian divines in America. A sermon that he 
preached for Dr. W. H. Channing in New York, in the year 
1837, l d to his acquaintance with the three brothers, John, 
George, and Isaac Hecker, who were amongst his audience on 
this occasion. The acquaintance thus formed ripened into a 
friendship, and the friendship lasted through life. 

Brownson had, as we have seen, convinced himself that, 
given that the Scriptures are the Word of God, there must 
exist a divinely instituted church, whose office is to infallibly 
guard and interpret them. But he had equally convinced him- 
self that, given the existence of a divinely instituted church, 
her task and duty must also be to watch over the interests of 
the poor. On this latter task and obligation Brownson laid 
great stress, in the first number of the Boston Reformer, which 
appeared, under his editorship, in July, 1836, not indeed as a 
characteristic of the true church, for Brownson had long come 
to the conclusion that there was no divinely instituted church, 
but as the office and work of any religious society which could, 
with any confidence, claim a hearing of the public. The Boston 



1 899.] A N ENGLISH VIE w OF BRO WN SON'S Co A VERSION. 29 

Pilot, reviewing this article in its issue of the following day, 
exhorted Brownson to study the history of the Catholic 
Church, and assured him that he would find in that church all 
that he vainly sought outside it. A few years later Brownson 
did set himself to the study of the history of the Catholic 
Church, at least of that portion of her history which has been 
most misrepresented and maligned, with momentous results to 
himself and to the future history of the church in America. 

THE HISTORIC CHURCH. 

Brownson, who was an orator of a very high order, was in 
much request as a lecturer. In the winter of 1842-43 he de- 
livered a course of lectures on the Middle Ages. He had pre- 
pared his lectures, as his custom invariably was, with the ut- 
most diligence and care. He had read widely and reflected 
deeply. He learned, as he read, not without surprise, that the 
Catholic Church, in the middle ages, had been acquitting itself 
of that duty which he had called upon the religious societies of 
his own day to perform. He saw her lovingly caring for the 
poor, and withstanding kings and nobles in the interests of the 
oppressed and friendless. And as he saw the church so he 
described her in his lectures. His lectures were, in truth, a 
panegyric of the church. He spoke in terms of strong repro- 
bation of the ungenerous prejudices of Protestants. These pre- 
judices were, the lecturer affirmed, the outcome of ignorance 
or malice. They were especially to be deplored in the case of 
those Protestants who accepted a supernatural Christianity. 
What is Protestantism, as a supernatural religion, but a mere 
reminiscence of Catholicism ? To the Catholic Church Protest- 
ants of this class owe the preservation of the Scriptures, the 
writings of the Fathers, and the liturgical works which had 
supplied the basis for their own books of piety and devotion. 
Even those Protestants who, like the lecturer himself, were 
unable to accept a supernatural Christianity, owed a deep debt 
of gratitude to the Catholic Church. If they did not admit the 
divinity of the Scriptures* they insisted, at least, on the dignity 
of man. Now, what human institution had laid so much stress 
on the dignity of man, as such, as the Catholic Church in the 
middle ages? The reign of absolutism dated from the revolt 
of Luther. Till that revolt kings and governments had been 
forced to confess that there existed a power superior to their 
own ; and that power was enrolled in the service of humanity. 
To Luther's revolt is due the present sad condition of the 
lower orders of society. " The rejection of the authority of 



30 AN ENGLISH VIE w OF BRO WN SON'S CONVERSION. [April, 

the Catholic Church left men free to follow their own natural 
selfishness, and left all social matters to be regulated according 
to the dictates not of Christian charity but of the self-interests 
of governments and individuals." 

COINCIDENCE BETWEEN HIS IDEAL CHURCH AND THE CATHOLIC 

CHURCH. 

Brownson's sympathies were now fully given to the Catholic 
Church, as it existed in the middle ages. But he believed that 
the church had fallen from her high estate and no longer stood 
forward as the champion of humanity. This impression was a 
false one, and Brownson had no desire to persist in it. It was 
due not to malice but to ignorance. He would gladly have 
seen it removed. And it speedily was removed. Brownson's 
course on the middle ages was followed shortly afterwards by 
courses delivered on the same subject by Bishop Hughes, of 
New York, in Baltimore and Philadelphia. The views set forth 
by the bishop on political economy were precisely similar to 
Brownson's own, and were read by Brownson with equal sur- 
prise and pleasure. " He had long ago decided," writes Mr. 
H. F. Brownson, " that the Catholic Church had outlived its 
mission, and here was that church, in the person of one of her 
most influential prelates, proclaiming the doctrine which he 
thought most needed at the present time with the vigor of a 
living and thinking friend of the people. This not only gave 
him a favorable impression of the bishop, but greatly increased 
his growing sympathy with that church." 

It was now clear to Brownson that the Catholic Church 
possessed the second characteristic of his ideal church. It 
was the church which cared for the poor. Might it not, he 
asked himself, possess the first characteristic too? Might not 
the Scriptures be, after all, the word of God, and the Catholic 
Church their divinely appointed infallible custodian ? The 
Catholic Church claimed that this was the case. Might not 
possibly her claim be true ? In any case the question deserved 
attention, and attention it should receive. Brownson accord- 
ingly commenced a thorough investigation into'the supernatural 
claims of the Catholic Church. His mind became full of the 
subject. He loved to discuss it with his friends. He was once 
engaged on the topic with John C. Calhoun and James Buchanan, 
when, as we learn from Mr. H. F. Brownson, the party was 
joined by Daniel Webster. " We were talking about the Catho- 
lic Church," said Buchanan, " and I, for one, am pretty well 
convinced that it is necessary to become a Catholic to get to 



1899-] AN ENGLISH VIEW OF BROWNSON' s CONVERSION. 31 

heaven." " Have you just found that out ? " said Webster. 
"Why, I've known that for years." 

DIFFICULTIES DISAPPEAR WITH CONVERSION. 

Brownson's difficulties rapidly disappeared as he continued 
his investigations, and his progress towards the church was 
visible to all his friends. Some of them wrote to him in tones 
of mild remonstrance, like Franklin B. Pierce. Others, like his 
intimate friend, Isaac Hecker, who was later to render such 
splendid services to the church, advanced along with him. But 
whether they approved of his progress or not, he still retained 
their friendship and respect. By the spring of 1844 Brownson 
had approached so near to the church that he felt obliged to 
retire from the Unitarian ministry. In the May following 
he called upon Dr. Fenwick, the Bishop of Boston, to seek his 
advice. Anxious though the bishop must have been to secure 
a convert whose conversion must make an immense impression 
upon the religious world of America, he contented himself 
with saying to Brownson : " It is best not to be hasty. The 
question is serious, and you will do well [to inquire further 
and longer." A week later Brownson called again ; and a 
fortnight later still he called once more, this time to declare 
that his mind was fully made up and that he was determined 
to become a Catholic. The task of preparation and instruction 
was entrusted to Bishop Fenwick's coadjutor, Bishop Fitz- 
patrick. The latter was every whit as adverse to anything that 
savored of a hasty reception as Bishop Fenwick himself, and 
it was not till Brownson had gone through a preparation ex- 
tending over more than four months that he consented to re- 
ceive his abjuration and admit him into the church. 

The soul which had craved for truth had now at length 
found it. The wanderer on many seas was now in the haven 
of rest. Sacrifices many were called for ; sacrifices common to 
every one that becomes a Catholic, and sacrifices peculiar to 
Brownson's position in the community. But the sacrifices were 
gladly made. They were scarcely so much as reckoned. " He 
thought," says Mr. H. F. Brownson, " not of sacrifice but of 
gain." The gain was indeed great to Brownson ; but it was 
great too to the church of his adoption. During the thirty-two 
years of life that still remained to Brownson the splendid gifts 
of the " master mind of America " were spent in the service 
of the Catholic faith. 




' And I have heard Thy white-robed angel say : 
' He whom ye seek is risen. He is not here ! ' 



SPBS 

<|lesus, my risen bord, to | F|ee 1 pray: 
|)hoW me [\\y Wounds. Thy \7oice, oh! let me hear. 

||)ri\?e from my fainting heart all doubt and fear; 
por 1 have sought 1 hee at the daWn of day, 

And I ha\?e heard | hy white-robed angel say: 

Tie W^jorn ye seek is risen- jl e ' s H ot here!' 
Lrord ^Jesus, Wilt | hjou not to me appear, 
<And Walk, a little With rqe by the Way? 

hf'en though I l^neW | hee not, | still Would feel 
I he sweetness of 1 hy presence in my heart; 

In joy and Wonder | Would bid | hee stay, 
J\lor at the eventide from me depart; 

e)o, Would I F|y lo\?e at length to me repeal 
Who With me Walked a little by th,e Way. 

MARY GRANT O'SHERIDAN, 



VOL. LXIX, 3 



I 









'71 







A HAVANA HOLY WEEK. 




BY M. E. HENRY-RUFFIN. 

T was in the spring of the closing year of the 
great Civil War. Out from the City of Mobile 
a brave little blockader had dashed past the 
Northern guns at Fort Morgan, and swept over 
~~ the" Gulf to the shadow of Morro Castle. How 
well it comes back to me dark, frowning Morro and the vista of 
the beautiful City of Havana. I was a very young blockader 
a Mobilian being borne back to the old land of Erin from 
whence my fathers came. Some time I may tell you more of 
that trip, that wonderful " running the blockade," that stands 
out so clearly in the visions of the past. I can hear the waters 
of Mobile Bay, I can hear the whispers of the watches, I can 
see the lights of Fort Morgan. I can even see the dark, glid- 
ing fleet that waited for just such daring craft as ours. I can 
see and hear and live it all over again, through the years and 
years that have passed. But to-day I want to tell you of a 
girl's war visit to Havana in Holy Week. 

Our vessel swung into the wharf ; and I was so excited at 
the thought of being in Havana, so interested in the strange 
sights, the strange faces, the strange language, that I was 






1 899.] 



A HA VAN A HOL Y WEEK. 



35 



almost speechless. And then ah, then, I was to see my father ! 
the dear father whom I had not seen for so many, many 
months. 

While I was looking in every direction at once, trying to 
see everything at the same time, a tall, bearded man held me 
close to his heart, and I could only say over and over again : 

"O papa! O papa! How glad I am!" 

Being something of a heroine, I suppose I am entitled to 
some sort of a description, as all real nice authors give you a 
pen-picture of their heroes and heroines. But I was only a 
small, pale child, with big blue eyes and flaxen braids. My 
costume, however, I am sure is worth describing ; for in those 
war days the mammas had to be very skilful to get anything 
at all for their little children^to wear. In Mobile we had been 
tightly blockaded, and we had depended so long on the North- 
ern States for so many things that it was funny to see what 
the ladies could contrive to do. Now, my hat how I remem- 
ber that hat ! was home-made of plaited palmetto. It was not 
very well bleached and was quite heavy. Then the shape it 
was just like a door-mat with a sunken centre, where the 
crown should have been. My dress, a revised and condensed 
costume of one of my elders^ was quite gorgeous 
a bright green and red plaid silk, with such very 
large stripes. So the little misses, who are so fas- 




A COMFORTABLE CUBAN 

HOME. 



A HAVANA HOLY WEEK. 



[April, 




DARK, FROWNING MORRO. 

tidious about their dresses in these days, can just picture little 
Eily Hinton, after she had run the blockade, and stood on the 
wharf in Havana in the year of grace, 1864. 

I was too young to feel the depression of war clothing very 
deeply, but the ladies of our party were unwilling to enter 
Havana in their absurd palmetto hats. So the mate of the 
vessel had gone ashore and bought some very pretty French 
bonnets for these ladies. 

" Now, Miss Eily," he said, handing me the bandbox, " just 
hold this a spell, till I see after the luggage." 

So I took the box and stood on the wharf, watching my 
father as he went back and forth up the gang-plank. The 
Cubans gathered around me, for it was not usual to see ladies 
and children come in on a blockader. They called me " Nina," 
" Chiquita," and " Poor little American," but they never criti- 
cised my queer costume. 

" Come, Elenita," called out my father, from the end of the 
gang-plank, giving me the pretty Spanish version of my name. 

I started with that fateful bandbox to make the ascent to 
the deck. Such a hurrying, jostling crowd for one poor, small 
girl to get through by herself, to say nothing of that bandbox. 
I struggled on up the gang-plank, my flaxen braids swinging 
out after me, my huge palmetto hat flapping in the breeze. I 
grasped the cord of that bandbox desperately, when lo ! some 
evil spirit sent a sailor down the incline. He tried to avoid 
bumping me, and the bandbox received the shock. The bot- 
tom promptly fell out. The wind caught up the contents, and 
three elegant French bonnets went sailing down Havana Bay, 
like three gorgeous aquatic plants. I immediately lifted my 






1 8 9 9-] 



A HAVANA HOLY WEEK. 



37 



voice and wept. A crowd gathered around me. The Cubans 
grew excited, and all talked at once. Several long fishing- 
poles were put out, and presently the three bonnets were 
drawn in, limp, wet, and ruined. 

I think a deluge of reproach would have been poured upon 
me, but my father drew me into his arms. " Never mind the 
bonnets, girls. I thought my own little Eily, my ' Elenita Chi- 
quita,' as these folks will call her, had gone overboard. It is 
all an accident, and she is frightened enough already. Here 
come the volantes. Come along, Eily. I want you to have your 
first volante drive." 

So we climbed into the queer carriages used in Havana, a 
high buggy as it were, drawn by a horse at some distance from 
the vehicle, and upon whose back sat the driver or postilion. 
The ladies whose bonnets I had drowned had thrown black 
lace shawls over their heads, and leaning back in the volantes, 
looked quite like picture ladies. 

" Eily, my pet," said my father, surveying my head-gear, 
" where on earth did you get such a hat ? It looks like it 




PALACE OF THE CAPTAIN-GENERAL. 



A HAVANA HOLY WEEK. 



[April, 










THE MANUFACTURE OF SUGAR is THE CHIEF INDUSTRY OF CUBA. 

could better carry you than you can carry it. It is an um- 
brella as well as a hat." 

We drove through the narrow streets and stopped at our 
hotel. Into an arched driveway, at the side of the house, the 
horses entered. " O papa ! " I cried out, " just see ! We are 
going right into the house, horses and all. Oh, look ! there's 
the parlor ! " 

We drove through the long marble hall and stopped at the 
parlor door. It seemed so queer to go rattling along right 
through the house. 

With an immense flourish of his whip, the postilion dis- 
mounted and helped us to alight. Then he remounted and 
drove out of the end of the hall, through a courtyard, to the 
stables. 

We had luncheon, and then I went into the large, marble- 
tiled parlor and looked out of the high, iron-barred windows 
into the street. Such a commotion on the street ! Such hur- 
rying and talking ! A tall, dark Cuban was gloomily dusting 
the parlor. My father came in and joined me at the window. 

" Gregorio," he said to the servant in Spanish, " here is my 
little daughter, the Sefiorita Elenita." Gregorio made a pro- 
found bow, saluting me with the dust-brush. " Now, Eily," con- 
tinued papa, "you must teach Gregorio to speak English, because 
he is very anxious to learn ; and he will teach you some Span- 
ish." This contract was translated to Gregorio, and he seemed 
delighted. 

The crowd on the street grew larger. " What is the matter, 
papa?" I asked. "Where are all those people going? It is 
just like Mardi Gras in Mobile." 

" Oh ! I forgot to tell you, Eily. This is the day they hang 
Judas Iscariot. This is Spy Wednesday.' I expect you have 



1 8 9 9.] 



A HAVANA HOLY WEEK. 



39 



lost sight of Holy Week in the excitement of running the 
blockade. Well, on to-day, Spy Wednesday, in Havana, they 
hang Judas ; and this evening, on the plaza, they will hang 
and burn him. I must surely take you to see that. We will 
hurry up and get you some sort of a dress, and certainly a new 
hat." Papa looked at my war-time costume and laughed very 
heartily. 

In a little while the lady who kept the hotel, and who had 
come from New Orleans, sent her daughter out ; and she bought 
me a new outfit. It was very stylish, I suppose, and all ac- 
cording to the prevailing fashion, but I cannot help smiling 
when I recall that costume. The predominant feature that con- 
stantly asserted itself was a pair of enormous hoop-skirts ; for 







A STREET IN HAVANA. 



the smallest Cuban children wore these. My dress, of bright 
blue silk, was voluminous and greatly berufHed. My good, 
honest Confederate brogans of red, untanned leather were ex- 
changed for a pair of high-heeled slippers, whose laces were 
strapped around my white, open-work stockings. My panta- 



A HAVANA HOLY WEEK. 



[April, 



lets were deeply embroidered and touched my ankles. My 
wide hat of French leghorn was tied down with yards and yards 
of blue ribbon and loaded down with white feathers. As 
I was a small, thin child, one may make the absurd picture for 
one's self. I was a sort of miniature balloon. I could not 
manage those dreadful hoop-skirts. I knocked down chairs and 
tables in my difficult progress. In those days I learned to envy 
the graceful little Cuban girls, who would spring into a chair, 
and have no explosions or collisions with the enormous hoop- 
skirts, which were worn down to the tenderest age. 

I wish I could delay to tell you of that Havana dinner, in 
the large, cool marble hall ; but we were in a hurry to witness 
the execution of the traitor Judas. 

Down on the plaza an immense crowd was gathered. It was 




ON A FESTIVAL DAY. 

nearly dark ; [but in the clear twilight we could see, hung aloft, 
the absurd figure or effigy of Judas. There was no attempt 
to follow the costume of Iscariot's own time. His effigy was 
attired in a very ragged postilion costume, with a pair of very 
long cavalry boots. A straw hat and gay necktie finished 
the attire. Imagine one of the Apostles in cavalry boots and 
spurs, with a straw hat ! 

" Now, Eily," said papa, " they are going to swing him up." 
Slowly the uncouth figure was lifted to the top of the 
scaffold, while the crowd jeered and cursed the traitor. 



1899-] A HAVANA HOLY WEEK. 41 

" Judas is full of gunpowder and fire-crackers," my father 
told me. " His clothes, too, are saturated with oil ; so presently 
you will see a great sight, Eily, when they burn him." 

" Burn him ! Fire him ! " shouted the crowd. Torches were 
brought out, but none of them could reach the figure. At 
last, a soldier on horseback rode under the scaffold. He car- 
ried a long pole with a lighted candle at the end. 

" Bravo ! Bravo, caballero ! " sang out the excited crowd. 
The smoking candle touched poor Judas, and then such an ex- 
plosion ! The whole effigy was a mass of flames. The gun- 
powder and the fire-crackers were exploding in all directions. 
Pieces of burning cotton fell over the crowd, who yelled, 
cheered, and sang until the effigy burned out. 

" Come, Elenita," said my father, " you have seen the last 
of old Judas Iscariot." 

The next morning, Holy Thursday, we were out early to 
see the grand procession of the Blessed Sacrament, as it wound 
its way around the city. Those who have only seen this 
solemn service in non-Catholic countries can form no real idea 
of its grandeur in a Catholic city. Every official, every reli- 
gious and social organization, joined in the ranks of devout 
followers of the hidden God. How my child's soul exulted at 
the majesty and magnificence of that pageant ! 

The streets were thronged. Windows and galleries, and the 
flat roofs of the houses, which are promenade gardens in Ha- 
vana, were filled. Children gayly dressed, ladies with their 
graceful black mantillas over their heads, looked from the 
verandas down into the crowded streets. 

We had secured a good place to look at the procession on 
the veranda of a friend in Calle Obispo. 

" You will never see such another sight in your life, Eily," 
my father told me, as we gazed down in wonder at the mass 
of people. We were near a corner, and there was a movement 
in the crowd. 

" Here they come," whispered my father. We caught the 
soft strains of the military band, subdued to solemn music. 
Gleaming tapers sprang up. Every man and boy lifted his hat 
and sank upon one knee. The ladies drew their veils closer 
and devoutly knelt. I was awed by the solemn silence, the 
great hush broken only by the beautiful notes of the band. 
How I wish I could bring to your mind the beauty of that 
pageant as it glows in my memory to-day, the vision that de- 
lighted my childish eyes and heart! 







4 "LADIES LOOKED FROM VERANDAS DC 

INTO THE CROWDED STREETS." 




1899.] 



A HAVANA HOLY WEEK. 



43 



Soldiers, civilians, religious orders, all in handsome regalia, 
marched past in rank upon rank. Near the venerable arch- 
bishop, who carried the Blessed Sacrament, were hundreds of 
white clad children strewing flowers of great beauty and fra- 
grance. We knelt until the procession had passed far out of 
sight. The scent of tropical flowers, the spice of incense, the 
echo of exquisite music, the vision of worshipping faces, 
lingered far after, even as, in my mind, that Holy Week in 
Havana lingers, sweet, solemn, bright, and fragrant. Even more 
impressive, because more sombre, was the service of Good Fri- 
day. The procession was a beautiful repetition of the day be- 
fore. " Eily," said my father, as we went up to kiss the cross, 
" put this in the plate." He handed me a piece of gold. I 
saw upon the plate a large pile of gold coins, and after we 
left the cathedral papa said : 

" A Spaniard never gives anything but gold to the church 
on Good Friday. They say that Christ was sold for silver, 




PRIMITIVE METHODS OF TRANSPORTATION. 

and to-day even the poorest will put a small gold coin in the 
plate." 

How the bells of Havana rang out the " Regina Cceli " on 
Holy Saturday ! All the ships in the harbor were decorated 
Easter morning, all the bells and whistles helped to ring in 
the great feast. At the cathedral a tall, magnificently dressed 
soldier stood in the centre aisle, just in front of the main 
altar. A small mulatto girl followed me, carrying a light cane 



44 



A HAVANA HOLY WEEK. 



[April, 




THE VISTA OF THE BEAUTIFUL CITY OF HAVANA. 

chair and a rug. When we reached the cathedral my father 
motioned to the little attendant, and she placed the chair on 
the floor, spreading out the rug in front of it. Then she knelt 
down behind me. There are no pews in the Cuban churches ; 
but rows and rows of little chairs and rugs. My father dropped 
upon one knee, following the example of the Cuban gentlemen. 
The drum major of the captain-general's band, for such was 
the gorgeous individual in the handsome red uniform trimmed 
with gold lace, paced up and down the central aisle, some- 
times touching with his long gilt baton a man standing up, 
and making him kneel down. I was sure that this splendid 
creature must at least be a king, and they laughed merrily at 
the dinner-table when I expressed my belief in his royal char- 
acter. A detachment of soldiers also stood in the aisle, and 
the military band joined with the organ and the choir. At 
the Elevation the soldiers knelt as one man, and their clang- 
ing swords rang impressively on the marble floor. 



1899-] A HAVANA HOLY WEEK. 45 

When we sat down to dinner that Easter Sunday, Gregorio, 
with many bows and flourishes, placed a small box at my 
plate. 

" An Easter present for the Chiquita," he said. I opened 
the box. There was a whole nestful of lovely little candy 
eggs. 

Gregorio reappeared with a long, slender tumbler. I tasted 
the beverage it contained. It was very nice. 

" That is cocoa-nut milk and a little wine," papa told me. 
" If you were a man, Gregorio would put brandy in your cocoa- 
nut milk." 

After dinner I was watching the waiters, tall, gloomy Gre- 
gorio and merry little Emanuelo, as they worked around the 
dining-room. The landlady was reprimanding Gregorio rather 
sharply. He lifted up his head, answering her defiantly. My 
father laughed aloud, and after awhile the landlady joined in 
the laugh. 

"Why, Eily, you just should have heard your friend Gre- 
gorio." 

" What did he say, papa ? " 

" Madame was scolding him, and he told her he was afraid 
of no woman on earth, only God and Isabella Segunda. That 
is his queen, the Queen of Spain. Come now, Eily, let 's get 
ready for the concert in the captain-general's garden. They 
have such beautiful music there on Sundays ; and as this is 
Easter, it will be better than usual." 

A tired, happy child fell asleep on her little cot in the 
hotel that night. She dreamed of all the wonderful sights she 
had seen. Even to this day there is nothing more impressive 
or beautiful in her memory than that Holy Week in Havana. 




46 RESURRECTION AND THE ANCIENT WORLD. [April, 




RESURRECTION AND THE ANCIENT WORLD. 

BY REV. JOSEPH V. TRACY. 

O declaration made by the Apostles met with a 
less gracious welcome from both the Jewish and 
the Gentile world than their announcement that 
Jesus had risen from the dead, and that His 
Resurrection was the pledge of ours. 
Among the Jews two powerful parties directed and con- 
trolled thought ; to both the message of Easter was hateful,, 
but to each for its own reasons. There were the Pharisees : 
the narrowly orthodox and intensely patriotic body whose 
leaders held firm influence over the masses of their countrymen. 
This sect and its adherents did believe in a future life and a 
corporal resurrection ; but to make Him, who through their in- 
trigue had been gibbeted, the foundation-stone of the doctrine ; 
to maintain that He was the " first-fruits of them that sleep " 
(I. Cor. xv. 20), this was nothing less' than blasphemy, and 
merited as a punishment, death ! Therefore, when Stephen in 
the peroration of his masterly defence exclaimed : " Behold I 
see the heavens open, and the Son of Man standing on the 
right hand of God," at once his trial proceedings lost all sem- 
blance of order ; the fanatical listeners became a lawless mob : 
" they, crying out with a loud voice, stopped their ears, and 
with one accord ran violently upon him ; and casting him forth 
without the city walls, they stoned him "; and he, first of num- 
berless martyrs yet to be, falling on his knees, " cried with a 
loud voice : Lord, lay not this sin to their charge " (Acts vii. 

55, 56, 57, 59). 

If the Pharisees thus opposed the Apostolic doctrine of resur- 
rection, with even greater reason was it rejected by that other 
Jewish party, the Sadducees, a sect, though second in point of 
number, first indeed in nobility, wealth, learning, and social pres- 
tige. The high-priesthood and other priestly emoluments of 
value, as well as political alliances always of service to ambitious 
churchmen were theirs by right of long and legalized possession. 
In the Acts of the Apostles the cardinal articles of Sadducean 
faith are thus summed up : *' The Sadducees say that there is 



1899-] RESURRECTION AND THE ANCIENT WORLD. 47 

no resurrection, nor angel, nor spirit " (Acts xxiii. 8).* Evi- 
dently this society was left no choice but to oppose the state- 
ment that Jesus had risen from the dead, and, consequently, 
that we would rise also. And the Sadducees were true to their 
principles : thus, when Peter and John, at that gate of the 
Temple known as " Beautiful," cured miraculously a cripple, 
and thence took occasion to preach Jesus Arisen, saying among 
other things : " Ye men of Israel hear, . . . Jesus . . . 
the author of life you killed, whom God had raised from the 
dead, whereof we are the witnesses " (Acts iii. 12, 15), there 
came upon them the Sadducean Temple officers, chronicles 
the faithful history, " being grieved that they taught the 
people, and preached in Jesus the resurrection from the dead. 
And they laid hands upon them, and put them in hold until 
the next day " (iv. 1-3). Again, on a later occasion, . . . 
" the high-priest rising up, and all they that were with him 
(which is the heresy of the Sadducees) were filled with envy. 
And they laid hands on the Apostles and put them in the com- 
mon prison " (v. 17, 18). Truly, the record of the Apostolic 
preaching of resurrection among the Jews is a record of op- 
position. 

On the part of the heathen world, to opposition was added 
contempt, and this in the East as well as in the West. 

In the East : there religion and morality had been for long 
pervaded by a tendency of thought which finally crystallized 
and has become known to us as Gnosticism, a system that 
probably found entrance into Judaism by way of the Essenes, 
and may also be held accountable for some of the earliest and 
most pernicious corruptions of Christian belief and practice. 
In regard to this system it suffices for our present purpose to 
know that it conceived of matter as the principle and source 
of evil : matter of its very nature was malignant. Now, our 
bodies are composed of matter, and are therefore evil things, 
finally to be got rid of. And so to Gnostics, or to those leav- 
ened by Gnostic views, the Christian doctrine of resurrection, 
involving as it did in their mind the perpetuation and triumph 
of evil, since the body would be glorified, was wholly repulsive. 
By them, then, the message promulgated by the Apostles was 
sure to be despised ; or, if individuals of this bias found them- 
selves drawn to the new religion, their new belief was apt to 
be altered to suit their previous Gnostic conceptions. Hence 

* C/. also Matt. xxii. 23-28, where Sadducees undertake to joke upon the subject of 
resurrection, at our Lord's expense. 



48 RESURRECTION AND THE ANCIENT WORLD. [April, 

we need not be surprised to find, in a letter of St. Paul to 
Timothy, mention of one Hymenaeus and a certain Philetus, 
pseudo-Christian teachers, who maintained "that the resurrec- 
tion was already past" (II. Tim. ii. 18), and managed to refine 
away the Scriptural expressions, in spite of their literalness, 
into allegories and metaphors. The Gnostic East certainly did 
not want " the great doctrine of the resurrection of the body, 
though in pushing aside that glorious hope men touched with 
their impious hand the corner-stone of all Christian belief^-the 
resurrection of the body of the Redeemer." 

In the West the reception of Resurrection was not a whit 
more cordial than in the East. Different incidents illustrate the 
truth of the remark. There was St. Paul's experience at 
Athens : " Certain philosophers of the Epicureans and of the 
Stoics disputed with him, and some said : What is it that this 
word-sower would say? But others: He seemeth to be a setter- 
forth of new gods ; because he preached to them Jesus and the 
resurrection. And taking him they brought him to the Areopa- 
gus, saying : May we know what this new doctrine is thou 
speakest of ? . . . And when they had heard of the resur- 
rection of the dead some indeed mocked ; others only said : 
We will hear thee again concerning this matter " (Acts xvii. 
18, 19, 32), a more polite but equally effective method of ex- 
pressing dismissal and contempt. " So Paul went out from 
among them " ; and we hear of him no more at Athens. 
Equally illustrative of the unsympathetic audience the Western 
world gave to the tenet, is the fact that after the acceptance of 
the Christian faith, resurrection remained for some converts, and 
these in number, an anxious problem. The Christian com- 
munity at Thessalonica was gravely disturbed lest its members 
who died before the last and all victorious Return of Christ 
would have no part in the world to come (I. Thess. iv. n, ff) ; 
and to crown all, in the church at Corinth some Christians 
seem to have gone to the extreme of denying the resurrection 
in toto either of Christ, or of ourselves, body or soul. That this 
error was a menace to the community is evidenced by the 
lengthy, logical, and passionate passage which St. Paul devotes 
to the subject. In the fifteenth chapter of that epistle, which 
we know as his First Epistle to the Corinthians, he calls to their 
minds the unimpeachable testimony of Christ's appearances 
after death ; testimony the greater part of which those to whom 
he wrote could verify for themselves, since most of the witnesses 
were still alive. . . . "I delivered unto you first of all," he 



1899-] RESURRECTION AND THE ANCIENT WORLD. 49 

writes, "that which I also received; how that Christ died for 
our sins according to the Scriptures ; and that he was buried, 
and that he rose again the third day according to the Scrip- 
tures. And that he was seen by Cephas, and after that by the 
eleven ; then was he seen by more than five hundred brethren 
at once ; of whom many remain until this present day, and some 
are fallen asleep ; after that he was seen by James, then by all 
the Apostles ; and last of all he was seen also by me . . ." 
(I. Cor. xv. 3-8). After this clear declaration of Christ's Re- 
surrection, a declaration strengthened by various arguments and 
analogies, he connects that fact with the dogma of the re- 
surrection of ourselves, and, finally, closes his splendid period 
by the thrilling words: "For the trumpet shall sound, and the 
dead shall rise again incorruptible, and we shall be changed. 
For this corruption must put on incorruption ; and this mortal 
must put on immortality. And when this mortal hath put on 
immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written : 
Death is swallowed up in victory. O Death, where is thy 
victory! O Grave, where is thy sting?" (I. Cor. xv. 52-55). 

If any truth of Christianity has run the gauntlet of opposition 
and abuse that truth, above all others, is this of the resurrection : 

1. The Apostles themselves had not expected it ; and when 
it occurred they refused their credence until to further dissent 
would be to deny the reliableness of their own senses and 
judgment : " Jesus had to speak with them, be handled by them, 
eat with them, perform miracles for them, instruct and train 
them " in a word, be for them after Easter all that he had been 
before Good Friday, ere they would allow themselves to admit 
that he was really back among them again in the flesh. 

2. These men, so hard to convince themselves, had, in turn, 
to persuade a world whose dominant classes were prejudiced 
against the possibility and had reason to deny the fact of re- 
surrection. The world had the Present, and its pleasures were 
tangible ; the Future what was it more than a surmise, maybe, 
as unreal as a dream ! Even when converted many chafed under 
the restrictions the doctrine necessarily imposed, and sought, 
at the cost of heresy and disorder, to loosen these moral con- 
sequences. 

Yet, notwithstanding the unwillingness of Apostles, the 
scepticism of the world, and the lukewarmness of neo-Christians, 
Resurrection, fact and dogma, did vindicate for itself a place 
in the deposit of Revealed Truth, and such a place that it has 
become the hope of the ages. 
VOL. LXIX. 4 



RESURRECTION. 



[April, 



From the endurance and survival of this one dogma, may 
not we, who have religious truth, draw a lesson of comfort for 
all dogmas ? Truth is truth and it will stand wear and tear. 
Philosophers or scientists may think that they have undermined 
the foundations of faith, and built up a system of doubt, or 
agnosticism, or negation. Whither they have brought themselves 
their own hearts and the great heart of the race will refuse to 
abide. Mankind never has been able to get on without God ; 
and, as a result of the last nineteen hundred years, never can 
get on now without Christianity. "A thousand times more liv- 
ing to-day," Ernest Renan, sceptical to his own scepticism, con- 
fesses of Jesus, "a thousand times more loved since thy death 
than during thy passage on earth, thou wilt become the corner- 
stone of humanity to such a point that to blot thy name out 
of the world would be in truest truth to shake its foundations." 
Resurrexit sicut dixit ! 




RESURRECTION 



BY F. X. E. 




NE April eve my sister-love 
Went wandering with a homing dove 
To rest beyond the stars above, 
And all the house was still 



As still as April evenings are 
Whilst Life is fading with its star, 
And hearts their glory find afar 
Within His cenacle. 






1899-] FATHER FITZGERALD. 51 




%- 



FATHER FITZGERALD.* 

BY JOHN JEROME ROONEY. 

ATHER FITZGERALD! long live his name, 
His hero deed and his soldier fame ! 

Not least is he, in brave renown, 

With the men who captured Caney town 



Not least, tho' his steps were on mercy bent 
As he marched with his gallant regiment 

Marched and fought, thro' the deadly loss, 
As a valiant Captain of the Cross ! 

Down thro* the brush, with stroke on stroke, 
The Twenty-second regulars broke 

* Chaplain of the Twenty-second Infantry (Regular). 

NOTE. At the reception given by the Aid Society to the Seventy-first Regiment New 
York Volunteers, Major Frank Keck, who led the boys in the charge on San Juan, was 
asked to tell of some notable exhibition of personal courage on the battle-field. The brave 
soldier, universally loved and respected by his men, said : 

" On July 2, while the fighting was going on, I sent word to our chaplain to come to the 
front to officiate at the burial of comrades who had been killed in action. For some unex- 
plained reason he failed to respond. A Catholic priest, the chaplain of one of the regiments 
of regulars in Lawton's division, volunteered his services, which were promptly and grate- 
fully accepted. As he was reading the service over the body a Spanish bullet struck his left 
hand, in which the book was held, shattering it horribly. Without a change of voice the book 
was dropped into the right hand and the services continued without a moment's halt. The 
mutilated and bleeding hand dropped to his side. Having finished the burial services, he 
asked if he could be of any further service. Iviy answer was a detail to get him to the field 
hospital as quickly as possible and my sincere, heartfelt thanks." 

In answer to a question as to the name of this chaplain and the regiment to which he 
belonged, Major Keck replied : " I do not know either, but I think he was the chaplain of the 
Sixth or Sixteenth. A more heroic deed was never witnessed on a battle-field." 

ON BOARD U. S. A. TRANSPORT " GRANT," 

En route to Manila, February 6, 1899. 
CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE : 

Your favor of December i was duly received. I have taken some trouble to ascertain the 
name of the gentleman to whom you refer. I have made diligent inquiries among the men 
of the command, and as near as I can find out it refers to Chaplain Fitzgerald, who was on 
duty during the campaign in front of Santiago with the Twenty-second U. S. Infantry. 

Very respectfully, H. W. LAWTON, 

Major-General U. S. Vols. 



52 FATHER FITZGERALD. [April, 

Out on the sunken road they sped 
With the starry flag well on ahead : 

For they knew there was work enough that day 
Where the forts of Caney blocked the way. 

But little they thought would come so soon 

The " Mauser's " whizz and the schrapnel's croon ! 

Sudden around, like a wintry gale, 
Fell a hissing shower of leaden hail. 

It seemed to fall from the skies and the breeze- 
It seemed to spring from the earth and trees : 

It leaped out here and it leaped out there, 
Its message of blood ran everywhere ! 

But onward, with never a halt or rest, 
The dauntless Twenty-second pressed ; 

And, there, where the bullets whistled and flew 
Father Fitzgerald was marching too 

Marching and working there in the van 
As a soldier priest and a soldier man ! 

Out of the zone of fire he bore 
Many a comrade, wounded sore 

From the foremost line of the fierce attack 
To the mango-tree he bore them back ! 

Unto their wounds he gave a balm, 
And unto their souls a holy calm : 

To the ears that were closing for ever there 
He breathed a word of comfort and prayer : 

Over the brow, blood-wet from the strife, 
He poured the blessed waters of life ; 

The soldier saw, thro* the crimson mist, 
The light of the Holy Eucharist, 



1899-] FATHER FITZGERALD. 

And the shades of death were swept away 
In the joy of the dawn of the Coming Day ! 

Thus, thro' the thick of the fight, he worked, 
Nor ever an errand of mercy shirked. 

His canvas jacket, tattered and worn, 
By many a " Mauser " shot was torn : 

But on he forged where the good flag went 
With the men of the fighting regiment 

On, till the bugle charge was heard, 
Till gallant Lawton gave the word 

Till the banner of Spain came, riddled, down 
From the forts in front of Caney town ! 

Cheers for their valor and tears for our loss 
And our hearts to the Captain of the Cross 



53 





54 A MONT A UK INCIDENT. [April, 

A MONTAUK INCIDENT. 

BY HENRIETTA DANA SKINNER. 

'URE your riverence could help me ! " 

I turned to look at the speaker, a plain, honest 
Irishwoman of middle age, with a stout, shape- 
less figure and broad, simple, snub-featured coun- 
tenance that one immediately associates with 
washtubs and mops and brooms. 

" What can I do for you, my child ? " I asked. I was 
pressed for time, as many of my sick soldier boys were criti- 
cally ill ; the heat was intense, and the confusion still reigning 
at the newly organized hospital camp made it difficult for me 
to accomplish my visits as rapidly as I would wish. 

She curtsied " If you could find my boy for me, father," 
she said. " We saw by the paper that he was sick here, and I 
came up from the city to be with him ; but they won't let me 
go round to look for him." 

" What company is he in ? " I inquired. 

" Sure I don't know who his friends are here," she answered 
stupidly. 

" What regiment is he in ? " I explained as patiently as I 
could. " What company of what regiment ? " 

" Sure, I don't know his regiment, father, but his name is 
Larry Byrne." 

"But his name is not enough ; you must know the name of 
his regiment and the number of his company or you will never 
find him in a military camp," I exclaimed. Stupidity is always 
very irritating to me. I find it easier to love a sinner than a 
stupid person. 

" I have never heard it, father, or else I don't remember 
it; but what difference does it make? Everybody knows Larry 
Byrne, and wasn't his name in the paper this very morning? 
That is how I came to know he was here at all. Just ask for 
Larry Byrne, father darlint, and sure they will all be telling 
you where he is ! " 

Poor soul! She had little notion of red tape, little idea of 
the utter hopelessness of finding plain, unvarnished, unnumbered 
Larry Byrne in that vast hospital camp. I questioned her fur- 
ther and found that she had already lost two boys on the 
battle-fields about Santiago, and that this was her youngest and 
her only support. 



1899-] A MONTAUK INCIDENT. 55 

" I didn't want to have him go to the war," she explained, 
" but he was crazy to enlist. He had been loafing for a month, 
and he thought it would give him a little more money, so I let 
him go, though it's little good the money '11 do him now, poor 
lad ! The two big boys died down there in Cuby, where I 
couldn't be with them ; but when I heard my little lad was here 
and ill I had to come. I have never been outside the city 
before, father, and I couldn't have found my way at all but for 
this little girl here. Annie is right smart about finding her way." 

I noticed then for the first time a pale, slender young girl, 
of fifteen or sixteen years, standing modestly near her. She 
looked tired and dispirited. 

" How long have you been here ? " I inquired. 

" Since eleven o'clock, your riverence." 

It was now two o'clock the hottest hour of a hot, sultry 
day. They had not found him yet, and it was not likely they 
would ever find him, for they had no pass or permit of any 
kind, and could only hang around the outskirts of the camp ap- 
pealing to such persons as appeared kindly disposed to help them. 

" I will do the best I can for you, though it is little enough," 
I said, very doubtful of success. " I have many imperative 
sick-calls to make, so I cannot stop to search for him myself, 
but I will try to interest others to look him up." 

" We will wait here, your riverence. God be with you and 
bring you to my boy ! " 

"Look for Larry Needle in Camp Haystack!" laughed 
the first official to whom I addressed myself. I saw plainly 
enough that there was little encouragement to be had, but as 
I passed from one hospital tent to another I persevered in ques- 
tioning officers and nurses. All shook their heads doubtfully. 

" There might be a dozen Larry Byrnes here, but we could 
only find them by the number of their company," they ex- 
plained courteously, though I already knew this well enough. 
I turned somewhat sharply to reprimand a young volunteer 
loafing near who seemed inclined to joke at the expense of 
Larry Byrne's mother. 

" Boss," he said, sobering down, " I guess you haven't been 
here long. We've seen mothers' sons dying hereabouts so 
often that we : ve forgotten how to care. You '11 be indifferent 
yourself after a few days." 

It was true that I had not been there long. I was tempor- 
arily filling the place of a volunteer chaplain, and this was only 
my third day at Montauk Point. I was sick at heart and torn 
with compassion at the scenes around me till I was almost un- 



56 A MONTAUK INCIDENT. [April, 

nerved for my duties. Hitherto I had frequently visited hos- 
pital wards and witnessed operations, and attended the injured 
in accidents such duties came to me often enough in the ex- 
ercise of my vocation, and I had always borne myself with calm- 
ness and self-possession. But the sight of these suffering, home- 
sick soldier boys was too much for me. The long, hot, weary 
afternoon brought many distressing cases to administer to ; there 
were confessions to hear, dying messages to record, lonely 
hearts to soothe, tired, fever-consumed eyes to close, disheart- 
ened sufferers to sustain and cheer. It was fully six o'clock 
before my rounds were over and I could return to the spot 
where I had left Larry Byrne's mother. I hoped she might 
not be there, that by some happy stroke of luck he might 
have been found. But she was still waiting, standing patiently, 
her lips moving mechanically as the beads of her rosary slipped 
through her fingers. 

" No news ? " I asked, though I well knew what the answer 
must be. 

She shook her head sadly : " No, father, no one has found 
him for us yet." 

" My poor child, you must come with me and have some- 
thing to eat. You will be faint, standing there since early 
morning, and it may be some hours yet before we find him." 

" I couldn't eat, father dear. It will be time enough to eat 
after we have found him. But Annie had better have a bite, 
poor little girl ! She never was very strong." 

The girl shook her head and I saw there was no use in 
urging her. She looked paler and more discouraged than ever, 
but I have seen that gentle, quiet sort before. They are stub- 
born as mules when they have a fixed idea in their heads. I 
knew that she would not eat nor drink nor rest, but neither 
would she faint. She would simply endure to the end. 

I was hungry and hot and tired myself, but how could I 
think of food or refreshment before these suffering hearts ? I 
turned once more towards the camp. 

"This time I will not come back till I find him for you, if 
he is here at all," I promised Larry Byrne's mother. 

" I '11 keep on praying, father, and you '11 find him sure." 

For nearly two hours I searched the camp, high and low. 
I addressed surgeons, officials, and nurses, many kind and con- 
siderate in the extreme, a few ungracious and abrupt. I could 
hardly blame them for a little impatience. To ask for Larry 
Byrne without number of regiment or name of company was 
like hunting in New York City without address of street or 



1899-] A MONTAUK INCIDENT. 57 

district. Still it did not warrant the storm of abuse hurled at 
me from one young fellow, a new-fledged lieutenant of volun- 
teers. He drew himself up in the consciousness of his new 
dignity and let loose a volley of expletives that I had never 
heard equalled in the slums of Chicago, where it has been my 
lot to labor for many years past. Oath upon oath rolled off 
from his tongue with appalling volubility. I waited quietly for 
him to finish. 

" Well," I said at last, " do you feel better, more like a 
soldier, more exalted, more worthy of your rank, a better 
American, a finer officer? Do you feel that the country is 
honored and the army ennobled by your words ? Do you think 
that those of us who have had .to listen to you will respect 
your wisdom and courage and dignity any more for this tirade? 
If you have any such idea, you will find that you have fallen 
just one hundred per cent, in the estimation of all who have 
heard you belittle yourself." 

Just then a young fellow came up and touched me respect- 
fully on the arm. He was weak and convalescing, evidently. 

" Parson," he said awkwardly, " there's a chap a-dying in 
our tent and I guess he belongs to your faith. Would you 
mind coming to see him a minute? " 

" What is his name ? " I asked, starting at once. 

" Larry Byrne." 

I quickened my steps. It was true that there might be a 
dozen Larry Byrnes in the camp ; it was not an uncommon 
name, and I must not feel too sure that I was being led to the 
one I sought. As I entered the tent I perceived a fever- 
stricken lad of eighteen or thereabouts lying in the further 
corner. There were others in the tent, but this one bore the 
unmistakable stamp of death in his drawn, wasted countenance, 
his thin lips and gleaming teeth, the ashen hue of brow and 
cheek, the wild eyes burning like coals of fire. He was in the last 
stages of exhaustion, but perfectly conscious. I knelt by his side. 

"I knew God wouldn't let me die without seeing a priest," 
he gasped in hoarse whispers. " I've 'got too good a mother 
for Him to let any of her boys die out of His grace. I had 
two brothers, wild boys at home that gave her a lot of trouble, 
but in camp they said their prayers regular night and morn- 
ing, and when they were dying, at San Juan, I found them 
with two Spanish priests attending them who had come out 
from the city to anoint the dying on the battle-field. I knew 
God would take as good care of me as of them, for mother 
loved me best." 



58 A MONTAUK INCIDENT. [April, 

I heard his confession and prepared him for death. He 
seemed ready to go, for he was too ill to struggle and death 
appeared to him as a friend, as it does to most of us in our 
last hour. When I saw that his conscience was at ease, and 
had done all that I could do for him, I said : 

"Would you like to see your mother?" 

" Wouldn't I ? " he exclaimed. " Poor mother ! She has had 
a hard life. The boys were wild, and father drank and abused 
her. She will feel bad to lose me. But she could never get 
here, poor mother! She never was out of the city in her life." 

" But she is here," I said quietly. " I have just seen her," 

He looked incredulous. 4< It can't be mother," he said, sigh- 
ing. " It's some other Byrne. There's plenty of the name. 
She never could find her way any too well in the city ; we 
always had to look after her. It's some other poor fellow's 
mother." 

"We shall see," I said. "I will bring her here and we 
shall see." 

. I threaded my way among tents and wagons and packing 
boxes, past groups of men and animals, to the spot where I had 
left Mrs. .Byrne. The sun had set, but the air was breathless 
and close. The ocean breeze had failed us in our need that 
day. The homely, patient figure still stood there in the twi- 
light, the lips moving and the beads of the rosary slipping 
through her fingers. She started forward at sight of me, too 
weary for eagerness or smiles, but with a patient gladness 
lighting up the plain face. 

" I knew you couldn't help but find him, father," was her 
greeting. 

" It may be a mistake," I said cautiously, " but come with 
me." I turned to re-enter the camp, when an officer blocked 
my way. There is something about these young officers of 
volunteers that arouses all my combativeness, though, with the 
latent sympathy between priest and soldier, I will obey a regu- 
lar to the dotting of an " i." I tried to push by him. 

" No entrance," he said curtly. 

"And why not?" I asked. 

" No civilians allowed in camp at this hour." 

" By whose orders ? " I asked again. 

He drew himself up haughtily. " By mine ! " he thundered. 

Then I did what I should have done in the first place, if I 
had not lost my temper. I put my hand in my breast-pocket 
and pulled out my permit, signed by the commanding officer, 
and countersigned by the Secretary of War, giving me entrance 



1 899.] A MONJAUK INCIDENT. 59 

to the camp at all times and places. The officer sullenly with- 
drew and I passed in. Mrs. Byrne was about to follow me. 

"You have no permit for the woman," he said, holding her 
back. She stood patiently still. 

"She goes with me," I said. "Her son is dying and I am 
taking her to see him. There is not a moment to lose." 

"You may go where you please," he replied, "but you 
must get a separate permit for her. Women are not allowed 
to enter after dark." 

I knew that he was in the right and that there was nothing 
to be gained by arguing or pleading. She must take up her 
weary waiting once more. 

" God help you, poor soul ! " I said. " Keep up your cour- 
age, and trust in God." 

" I will, father," she replied. " Sure, He has never failed 
me yet, glory be to His holy will." 

The tears rushed to my eyes as I turned away. Ah ! how 
often it is the poor who teach us the gospel, and we, who are 
sent to preach it to them, may sit at their feet and learn. 

I went directly to headquarters, for there is no use apply- 
ing to subordinates, who often have not the power to help 
even if they have the will. The commanding officer was the 
busiest man in the camp, but his time and attention were at 
every one's service and I had no Fear of the result. , Nevertheless 
I must await my turn, and it was striking nine o'clock before 
I once more rejoined the patient, waiting figures in the moonlight. 

We hurried along in silence. Sad scenes passed before us, 
heart-breaking sounds met our ears, but we passed rapidly by, 
absorbed in the fear of being too late. I opened the flap of 
the tent. It was dimly lighted, but peering into the farther 
corner I could see the pinched, waxen face, and the fever- 
scorched eyes glaring in the darkness like balls of fire. He 
still lived and was conscious. I drew the mother forward, 
" Is it he ? " I asked. 

There was silence as she groped her way towards the cot ; 
then a wild cry rang out, a sound hardly human in its agony. 
It was as the cry of some hunted, wounded animal. But in an 
instant she recovered herself and drew nearer the cot. The 
nurse moved thoughtfully toward the door, and I turned my 
face away. Such a reunion was too sacred for witnesses. But 
I could hear the mother approach the cot, I felt her bending 
over the poor living skeleton, and my ears caught the first 
words she addressed to her dying boy, the last left to her of three. 

" Larry dear, have you made your peace with God?" 



6o A MONT AUK INCIDENT. [April, 

I went down on my knees then. O woman, great is thy 
faith ! and surely the Master is not far from thee, who shall 
declare thy praise before all the Court of Heaven. 

The ghost of a smile crept over the lad's livid features. 
"Yes, mother," he murmured; "and now I know that it is 
really you and not a dream, for that would be the first ques- 
tion you would ask me." 

" Praise be to God ! " she cried, " but He is good to us, 
Larry boy, to let us be together again." 

He raised his thin, wasted claw of a hand and laid it over 
her broad red one, stroking it fondly and saying from time to 
time, " Poor mother ! Poor mother! " He tried to tell her some- 
thing in broken whispers. I guessed from her subdued ex- 
clamations that he spoke of his brothers. 

The young girl had crept to the other side of the cot and 
knelt there sobbing quietly. At last he turned his eyes from 
his mother and looked at her, and for a moment their fever- 
light was subdued to softness. 

" It's little Annie," he whispered. " She must have brought 
you, mother, for you could never have got here alone. Annie 
was always good to you, mother ; she will be good to you when 
I'm gone." 

At last the great change came. It was ten o'clock when 
Larry Byrne's mother turned hastily and beckoned me to the 
bedside, and together we said the prayers for the passing soul. 
Then she tenderly closed the quenched eyes and crossed the 
emaciated hands. 

The young girl had thrown herself face downwards on the 
floor, sobbing convulsively, but the mother stood like a statue 
by the bedside. I tried to murmur a few words of comfort 
and hope. She turned towards me, her homely face transfigured 
by a smile of infinite faith and patient trust. No sob escaped 
her, though the tears poured down her broad cheeks. 

"Yes, it's God that knows best, father dear," she said. "I 
ain't asking any questions, for He has known best all along. He 
took them two wild boys where they were scared into saying 
their prayers reg'lar, and His mercy followed them way to Cuby 
and sent two foreign priests to anoint them. And now that 
He sees fit to take my Larry away too, glory be to His holy 
will ! The three boys will be waiting for their old mother up 
in heaven, and in God's mercy I sha'n't be long in going to 
them, for me poor heart is broke, me heart is broke, me heart 
is broke ! " 







1899-] SYMPATHY. 61 

SYMPATHY. 

BY REV. WILLIAM A. SUTTON, S.J. 

E pity and feel for creatures sharing in some 
way our sentient and intellectual nature. To 
some extent we make their sufferings and other 
states of consciousness our own, because we 
can imagine how we ourselves should feel if we 
were in their state. Hence pity is a kind of sadness, for sad- 
ness is caused by evil of any kind being present to and affecting 
us. This too explains how pity consoles sufferers. They per- 
ceive their affliction is shared by another and that lightens their 
own burden, as really as one carrying or drawing a load is 
relieved by some one lending a helping hand. 

At first sight it would seem that it would be better for our- 
selves to keep out of the way of sufferers. Pity for them 
makes us sad, and sadness is a passion to be avoided and re- 
sisted. " Drive away sadness far from thee. For sadness hath 
killed many, and there is no profit in it " (Ecclus. xxx. 24-25). 
But this means excessive, unreasonable, selfish sadness. Like 
all passions if not brought under due control, it is utterly 
ruinous. Passions are not bad in themselves. They are essen- 
tial components of sentient creatures. In man they are the 
raw material of virtue and of vice. If allowed to have their 
own way, they lead to every misery ; if brought under the 
control of reason, they minister to all that is good and great 
in human character. Natural inclination to commiserate others 
is a most lovable quality ; but, being in us of the nature of emo- 
tion or passion, it must be trained, developed, perfected by 
reason, and, above all, by the light of faith and the help of grace. 
Sympathy is more commonly and conspicuously excited by 
sorrow than by joy ; but unselfish sharing in the gladness of 
others is a beautiful manifestation of it too. " Rejoice with 
them that rejoice, weep with them that weep" (Rom. xii. 15). 
We alleviate sorrow by our sympathy, and we increase glad- 
ness and joy. Gladness is caused by the presence and posses- 
sion of good, as sadness by evil. When another in joy sees 
us glad because of his well-being, he instinctively recognizes 
that in our friendliness his own joy has reason for increase, 
for a friend is, as such, an alter ego. Sympathetic manifestation 
of good will consequently adds new and increased joy. 



62 SYMPATHY. [April, 

Selfishness is the cause of the absence of both kinds of sym- 
pathy. Selfishness is seeking our own comfort and well-being 
at the expense of others, either by taking from them or refusing 
to give what in any way they may have a reasonable claim on, 
whether it be a claim of justice or merely a claim on our kind- 
ness. We refuse or avoid commiseration in order not to become 
miserable ourselves ; we will not rejoice with others, because 
pride and envy make us feel others' success as constituting them 
superior to ourselves. Pride is, above all, a longing for superi- 
ority. Envy looks upon the good of others as an evil to one's 
self, and instead of joy at another's prosperity sadness is caused. 
We feel our own inferiority when we see others prosperous or 
joyous from what we have nothing to do with, or it may be 
from things that we ourselves are clearly wanting in. It would 
be well worth our while to cultivate sympathy, if only to avoid 
falling into envy, a passion that becomes continual torture 
when much indulged. 

" Invidia Siculi non invenere tyranni 
Majus tormentum " (Hor., ep. ii. lib. i. 58). 

I lately came across a quotation from Alexander Dumas 
which bears upon the above : " La Rochefoucauld a dit : 
* nous avons tous assez de force en nous pour supporter le mal- 
heur des autres.' II aurait pu ajouter : * Mais nous n'en avons 
pas toujours autant pour supporter leur bonheur.' ' " La Roche- 
foucauld has said : * We all have fortitude enough to bear the 
misfortune of others.' He might have added : ' but we have 
not always as much to endure their good fortune.' ' 

There never was a greater mistake than to think and act on 
the principle that sympathy for others in sorrow and joy inter- 
feres with our own content and happiness. Experience proves 
quite the contrary. As long as we are wrapt up in ourselves 
our own troubles occupy our imagination, which exaggerates 
them greatly and causes great depression. If we get away 
from ourselves and occupy our thoughts with the sorrows and 
troubles of others and try to relieve them, great good for our- 
selves ensues. We no longer brood over and distort exagger- 
atedly our own worries, and that in itself is a considerable 
source of relief. Besides, using our sympathetic passions in the 
right way gratifies them, soothes our conscience, makes us feel 
we are doing as we ought, gives us a sense of usefulness and 
worth ; moreover there is added the satisfaction experienced 
from the appreciation and gratitude of those we help and con- 



1 899.] 5 YMPA TH Y. 63 

sole, and the esteem in general gained from being recognized 
as doing our part in that social organism of which we are 
necessarily members. One who is known to be selfish is in- 
stinctively detested, because he is always on the lookout to 
secure his own advantage at the expense of others. An un- 
selfish person is instinctively liked, because he willingly lets 
others have all that they have any claim to, and even goes out 
of his way to be obliging and helpful. Man is a social ani- 
mal. Selfishness is the enemy of society, unselfishness its 
greatest friend. 

It is not always easy to be pleased because others succeed 
and are glad ; it is often hard. But what has been done can 
be done, and we can train ourselves to sympathize in this 
most unselfish and beautiful way. If we make the effort a few 
times, we shall see the thing can be done, just like overcoming 
irritability or any other disorderly passion ; and then the habit 
of doing right in this direction begins to be formed, and soon 
we are masters of the situation. We are creatures of habits 
good and evil, and habit becomes second nature, as it is said. 
There is so much satisfaction in rejoicing with others that we 
are well rewarded, even if we did not look higher ; but of course 
we shall have higher motives and higher helps ; for all that, we 
must make use, too, of every natural help, for grace in every 
way makes use of natural powers and circumstances. 

A great aid to becoming sympathetic is to aim at trying to 
understand other people's way of looking at things. If we 
cultivated this habit, we should rapidly develop the sympathe- 
tic faculty. It is not stupid and ignorant people only that 
never think there is any way of viewing a question besides 
their own. I heard it said of an able and good man in high 
position that he could not conceive how any honest man could 
disagree with him. As a matter of fact, perfectly honest and 
intelligent people disagree irreconcilably on all manner of sub- 
jects ; such is the force of surroundings, inherited tendencies, 
prejudices, intellectual and moral limitations. Trying to put 
ourselves in others' places and states of mind is a wonderful 
assistance in getting over bitterness towards opponents, and thus 
being able to deal justly and without anger and vindictiveness. 
When people are an annoyance to us, great or small, our im- 
aginations get so possessed by our own trouble that we think 
of our opponents solely as a cause of suffering to ourselves, 
forgetting that they, too, have plenty to trouble them and to 
be pitied for. It is quite true that they are very often un- 



64 THE FIRST EASTER. [April, 

reasonable, as we are ourselves, and it is necessary to oppose 
them ; but we shall best succeed in bringing them to reason, 
or setting things right, if we are sympathetic, if we try to 
look fairly at their side of the question. 

Well-regulated sympathy practically manifested is the best 
cure for misery and sadness. It brings a special blessing at 
such times to be kind to others. But at all times, under all 
circumstances, for attaining and preserving peaceful cheerfulness 
there is nothing like sympathy, kindness, mercy towards the sick, 
the poor, or the afflicted in any way. It is a natural reward. 
But it is also a reward of grace and in the supernatural order. 
Our Lord has promised peace and consolation to those who are 
rightly sympathetic. " Blessed are the merciful, for they shall 
obtain mercy." Mercy means more than what there is any claim 
to far more. Our Lord means that God will pour blessings 
on the merciful which will be the most soothing cure of all 
their miseries, and that to a great extent even in this life. If 
you want to be mirthful, be merciful. 




THE FIRST EASTER. 

BY MARION ARNOLD. 

'ER the Judean hills the dawn is creeping, 
Bringing the day with its griefs again ; 
On her lowly couch is Mary sleeping, 

O'er-wrought by the Passion's awful pain, 
Often she breathes His name in dreaming 
Sorrowful dreams of her bitter loss 
On Calvary's Mount, the mother seeming 
To stand again 'neath the mournful Cross. 

But list ! a strain as of angels singing 

Soft and sweet through the morning air, 
An echo of heaven-born music bringing 

To the lonely couch of the sleeper there. 
The strain takes on a joyful wording, 

And the mother stirs in her troubled dreams : 
But what are the angels' songs recording 

As the light o'er the Judean hill-sides streams? 



1899-1 THE FIRST EASTER. 

" Regina Cceli, laetare ! " thrilling, 

And 4< Alleluia " in chorus strong : 
In the light that all the world is filling 

The mother wakes with the angels' song. 
And there in the midst of the brightness beaming 

She sees her Son, and she hears His voice : 
" Mother ! " Ah, this cannot be dreaming, 

For the angels are bidding her soul rejoice. 

But come away ! It were rash presuming 

To tell of that meeting with mortal tonguej; 
With the light of heaven our souls illuming, 

We shall hear the story by angels sung. 
O Heart of Christ ! on some Easter morning 

We shall learn the strength of Thy love divine?; 
We shall sound the depths of that tender warning: 

" My child, let thy heart be always Mine." 




VOL. LX1X. 5 




66 A HEAVENLY ADVENTURE. [April, 



A HEAVENLY ADVENTURE. 

BY COMTE DE V. DE L'ISLE ADAM. 

" Go to the sea, and cast in a hook : and that fish which shall first come up, take ; and when 
thou hast opened its mouth, thou shalt find a stater ; take that, and give." Matt. xvii. 26. 

OW that that seraphic child, Sister Euphrasia, 
has fled into the Realms of Light, why should 
we still call earthly the " miracle " by which she 
was so enraptured ? Indeed, this noble saint 
(but just fallen asleep in the Lord at the age of 
eight-and-twenty, superior of a Provengal order of Little Sisters 
of the Poor, founded by herself) would not have been scandal- 
ized to learn the natural cause of her sudden vocation. Her 
way of seeing things was too truly humble for her to have 
been troubled thereat, even for a single instant. All the same, 
it is as well that I kept silence until the present time. 

About a kilometre from Avignon stood, in 1860, not far 
from the verdant lands above the Rhone, an isolated hut of 
sordid aspect, lighted by a single window with iron-shod 
shutters, and situated in full view of a protecting police-barrack, 
on the outskirts of the suburbs, hard by the main road. Here 
an old Israelite, called Father Moses, had long dwelt. He was 
not a wicked Jew, notwithstanding his lifeless face, osprey's 
brow, and bald head, which was modelled and tightly bound 
round by a close-fitting cap, of which the stuff, and eke the 
hue, must for ever remain indeterminate. Still fresh and 
vigorous, he was quite capable of following closely, in a few 
forced marches, on the heels of Assuerus. But he never went 
out, and only received visitors with extreme caution. At night, 
a complete system of snares and wolf-traps protected him be- 
hind his ill-fastened door. Helpful, especially towards his co- 
religionists, invariably charitable towards every one, he dealt 
exclusively with the sick, to whom alone he lent, preferring to 
hoard his riches. 

For this practical and God-fearing man the sceptical ideas 
of the age in nowise altered the primitive faith, and Moses 
prayed as well between two usurious transactions as between 
two gifts of alms. Not being devoid of heart, he was particuh 
to repay the least service rendered to him. 



1 8Q9'] A HEAVENLY ADVENTURE. 67 

As he looked forth with pale gray eyes at his surroundings, 
he was perchance aware of the cool, fresh country that lay 
extended beneath his windows. A distant object, however, 
placed on a slight eminence, commanding the river-side meadows 
to the edge of the stream, spoilt his horizon for him. This 
Thing he turned from the sight of it with a sort of annoyance 
(an annoyance not inconceivable in his case), with an insur- 
mountable aversion ! 

It was a very old Calvary, tolerated, as an archaeological 
curiosity, by the then city magistrates. Twenty-one steps must 
be climbed before arriving at the great central cross, which 
supports a Gothic figure of Christ, nearly obliterated by the 
work of time. It stands between the two smaller crosses of the 
thieves, Dipha and Gesmas. 

One night Father Moses, his feet on a stool, his spectacles 
on his nose, and his cap against the lamp, was leaning over a 
small table, covered with diamonds, gold, pearls, and precious 
documents. This table stood in front of the window which 
opened on to the night. The Jew was engaged in auditing his 
accounts in a dusty ledger. 

He had remained up very late. All the faculties of his 
being had become absorbed in his labors, so that his ears, deaf 
to the idle sounds of nature, had remained for hours inatten- 
tive to certain distant cries, numerous, wide-spread, terrifying, 
which, all the evening, had gone on piercing the silence and 
the gloom. 

A great, clear moon was sailing down the wide abyss of 
blue, and now no more sounds were heard. "Three millions!" 
cried Father Moses, placing a last figure to the total. 

But the joy of the old man, exulting in the depths of his 
heart and filled with a sense of the realization of his ideal, 
ended in a shudder. For there was no room for doubt some- 
thing icy suddenly gripped his feet ! He pushed away his foot- 
stool, and jumped up quickly. 

Horror ! A lapping flood, by which the chamber was in- 
vaded, was bathing his thin legs ! The house was creaking. 
His eyes, straying outside the window, dilated as they per- 
ceived the immense extent of the waters that covered the 
lowlands and farms. Here was the inundation ! the sudden 
overflow, terrible and increasing, of the Rhone. 

" God of Abraham ! " he stammered. 

Without losing an instant, notwithstanding his panic, he 
cast off his clothes all but his patched trousers, flung off his 



68 A HEAVENLY ADVENTURE. [April, 

shoes, and crammed the more precious objects from his table- 
diamonds and securities pell-mell into a little leathern bag 
(which he hung round his neck), reflecting that, by and by, be- 
neath the ruins of his hovel, he would be able to recover his 
buried gold. Flac-flac, he strode across the room, that he 
might seize from the top of an old chest a bundle of bank-notes 
already saturated and sticking together. Then he mounted on 
his window-sill, and pronouncing three times the Hebrew word 
Kodosch, which signifies " Holy," he flung himself, knowing 
himself for a good swimmer, upon the mercy of his God. 

His hut sank behind him, noiselessly, beneath the waters. 
In the distance no boat! Whither should he fly? He turned 
towards Avignon, but the waters seemed to add to the dis- 
tance, and it was now far, far from him ! Where could he 
rest ? where find a footing ? Ah ! the only spark of light, there, 
upon the height, was that Calvary, whose steps were already 
disappearing beneath the boiling waves and eddies of the furi- 
ous waters. 

"Seek shelter from that Image? No, never!" The old 
Jew was in earnest in his beliefs, and although the danger was 
pressing, although modern ideas, and the compromises which 
they inspire, were far from being unknown to this gloomy 
fugitive, this seeker after an Ark, it was repugnant to him to 
owe, were it only earthly salvation to what was there. His 
outline, at that moment, reflected from the waters which mir- 
rored the stars, might well give rise to a dream of the Deluge. 

He swam at hazard. Suddenly, a forbidding yet ingenious 
thought crossed his mind. " I forgot," said he to himself, pant- 
ing (and the water ran from the two points of his beard) " I 
forgot that, after all, there is up there the unlucky impenitent 
Thief. By my faith, I see no hindrance to seeking refuge be- 
side the excellent Gesmas, while I await my deliverance." 

He then steered, all scruples appeased, with energetic strokes, 
across the rolling arches of the flood, in the clear moonshine, 
towards the Three Crosses. After a quarter of an hour they 
appeared to him, colossal, a hundred yards from his congealed 
and rigid limbs. They stood without visible support on the 
wide waters. As he gazed, breathing hard and seeking to dis- 
cover, to the left, the gibbet of his choice, behold the two 
side crosses, more frail than the central, creaked, weighed down 
by the current of the Rhone, and the worm-eaten wood 
yielded. With a sort of terrified, dark curtsy, both fell back 
silently into the foam. 



1 899-] A HEAVENLY ADVENTURE. 69 

Moses did not advance. Wild and haggard before the spec- 
tacle, he all but sank, and spat forth two mouthfuls of water. 
Behold ! now the Supreme Sign, the great Cross alone, Spes unica, 
was outlined upon the depths of firmamental space. It held 
forth its pale One, thorn-crowned, nailed, with extended arms 
and closed eyes. 

The old man, suffocated, almost fainting, with nothing left 
but the instinct of drowning creatures, decided, in desperation, 
to swim towards the Sublime Emblem, the gold he must save 
trebling his last efforts, and justifying the act in his eyes, 
dimmed by the approach of the death-agony. He arrived at 
the foot of the Cross. Oh ! it was with a bad grace (to his 
honor be it said) and with his head averted as much as possi- 
ble that he resigned himself he, the man, barely escaping 
death by drowning to seize and clasp his arms round the tree 
of the Abyss ; that tree which crushes all human reasonings 
beneath it, dividing Infinity into four, clearly-marked roads. 
The poor rich man gained a footing. The water welled up, 
raising his body to half the height of the Figure. Around 
him the flood, wide-spread and silent ! . . . Ah ! there a 
sail ! a boat ! 

He cried out. They tacked. They had seen him. 

At that very moment a movement of the water (some river 
dam breaking in the darkness) lifted him, with a great upheaval, 
to the Wound in the side. This was so terrible and so sudden 
that he had barely time to clasp, body to body and face to 
face, the image of the Expiator, and then to hang suspended, 
his head thrown back, his bushy eyebrows contracted over his 
piercing and sidelong glances, whilst the points of his beard 
moved to and fro in the water. 

The old Israelite, clinging to and astride of Him-who-par- 
dons, and unable to release his hold, gazed sideways at his 
" Saviour." 

" Hold fast ! We are coming," cried voices drawing near, 
and sounding distinctly. 

" Well ! " growled Father Moses, whose horrified muscles 
seemed about to betray him " well ! here is a service ren- 
dered by One . . . from whom I certainly expected nothing. 
Not wishing to owe anything to any one, it is only just that 
I should repay Him ... as I would repay a living man. 
Let me give well, what I would give ... to a man." 

And whilst the boat approached, Moses, in his character- 
istic zeal to cry quits, rummaged in his pocket and drew thence 



70 A HEAVENLY ADVENTURE. [April, 

a piece of gold, which he pressed gravely and to the best of 
his ability in between the fingers of the right hand, which 
were folded over the nail. 

" Quits!" he murmured, letting himself fall, almost fainting, 
into the arms of the boatmen. The very legitimate fear of 
losing his leathern bag kept him self-possessed till the landing 
at Avignon. The warmed bed of an inn comforted him there. 
In this town, a month later, he established himself, having re- 
covered his gold from beneath the wreck of his old home ; and 
in this town he passed away in his hundredth year. 

Now, in the December of the year which followed this 
singular incident, a young, orphaned, country girl, Euphrasia 
by name, very poor and with a charming face, attracted the 
attention of certain rich citizens of Vaucluse. Disconcerted by 
her inexplicable rebuffs, they resolved, in her own interests, to- 
snare her by famine. She was soon turned off (at their insti- 
gation) from the work-room where she gained the daily ten- 
pence which kept her in bread and good humor, in exchange 
for but eleven hours of labor (the work-room belonging to one 
of the most respectable families of the town). 

The same day she found herself turned out also from the 
poor room where, morning and night, she gave thanks to God. 
To be quite just, the landlord, who had children to provide for, 
had no right, and could not, seriously and conscientiously, ex- 
pose himself to the loss of the six good francs per month 
brought in by that little hole in his garret. 

"However honest she may be," said he, "it is not with 
sentiment that one pays one's taxes ; and, besides, perhaps it 
is for her own good" added he with a wink, "that I must seem 
harsh." 

Thus it happened that, in the winter twilight, when the 
tolling of the Angelus was borne on the wind, this trembling 
and unfortunate girl wandered along the snowy streets, and, 
not knowing whither to turn, bent her steps towards the Calvary. 

Led, very probably, by angels, whose wings bore her up the 
white steps, she sank at the foot of the great cross, her body 
falling against the time-worn wood, as she murmured the 
simple words: "My God, send me a little help, or I shall die." 
And (here is something to make one think!) behold, from the 
right hand of the ancient figure of Christ, towards which the 
supplicant's eyes were raised, a piece of gold fell on the 
maiden's dress ; and this surprise, together with the sweet and 
never disturbing consciousness of a miracle, revived her. 



1 899-] 



A HEAVENLY ADVENTURE. 



It was an old piece of money, bearing the stamp of Louis 
XVI., the yellow gold of which shone on the black robe of 
the favored girl. Something from God, no doubt, falling at 
the same time into the virgin soul of this child of heaven, 
strengthened her courage. She took the gold without being 
even astonished ; rose, kissed the sacred feet, smiling, and fled 
towards the town. Having handed the six francs (which had 
caused the difficulty) to her reasonable landlord, she awaited 
the dawn upstairs, in her icy little bed ; eating her dry bread 
during the night, ecstasy in her heart, heaven in her eyes, and 
singleness of purpose in her soul. The very next day, filled 
with living force and insight, she began her holy work, in 
spite of rebuffs, of closed doors, of evil-speaking, threats, and 
mockery. 

And the work of the Lord was well planned, was stable. 

To-day the young saint has just taken flight into her king- 
dom, victorious over the sneering foulness of earth, radiant 
because of the " miracle," which created her faith, in union with 
Him who "permits all things to come to pass." 





72 A PRACTICAL VIEW OF CUBA. [April, 

A PRACTICAL VIEW OF CUBA. 

BY JAMES M. McGINLEY. 

ITH a thermometer marking an average 
temperature of seventy-six for the 
.C) month of February, and while blizzards 
and zero weather prevail in New York, 
it is not difficult to realize the induce- 
ments which the City of Havana will 
continue to offer to modern tourists ; 
particularly so when the new provisional government shall have 
completed its work of applying the broom and whitewash brush 
to public buildings and thoroughfares. Even now the number 
of visitors from the States is so large that accommodations are 
insufficient. People of all shades and conditions are discernible 
here ; the tourist pure and simple, who is a much-travelled and 
well-informed person ; the camera fiend, who inflicts his presence 
and toy machine upon everything from the high altar in the 
cathedral to the hut of the reconcentrado, and in whose eyes 
nothing is sacred. The American business man has also aimed 
at and is looking for " opportunities." The young man " out of 
a job " is to be found, who, being unable to " strike " any- 
thing at home, has turned his face to this newly-opened field. 
He is, perhaps, faring somewhat better than the business hustler 
with great schemes for rapidly making money in view, for many 
of these young men have succeeded in obtaining employment, 
if not at high wages at least at such an income as will afford 
them good living opportunities. 

PROSPECTS FOR BUSINESS. 

Rates of living are higher here than in Northern cities of 
the same size. Restaurant charges for good, clean food are 
excessive, and no doubt due to the recent influx of Americans. 
As soon as the latter locate in any particular district prices 
immediately take on a remarkable growth. Beyond question, 
the Spaniard, or Cuban, is more alert in making a profit from 
the American than the latter was at first led to suppose. Aside 
from these " fancy" prices, the charges for rents, food, and both 
the necessaries and the luxuries of life are about the same as 
they are in the States. 



1899-] A PRACTICAL VIEW OF CUBA. 73 

The " American hustler," so called, is entirely out of place 
here. Assertiveness, cynicism, and impetuosity are not qualifi- 
cations which lead to the open road of enterprise in these 
Spanish-American countries. Good temper, patience, and de- 
liberation, with an adoption of the native customs to a great 
extent, bring about better results. Combine these conditions 
with a good knowledge of the Spanish language, work hard, 
keep one's credit good, and as an American citizen one can 
reap a harvest in certain lines, but only in certain lines. The 
rapid and sky-rocket pace at which many Americans have made 
fortunes during the past decade has blinded them to many 
vital and fundamental principles still held by foreign merchants. 
One will be impressed here with the simplicity and economy 
with which great businesses are conducted in inexpensive build- 
ings and with but little advertising. The employer is not dis- 
tinguishable from the employee in general work and activity. 
In most cases, while living well, he does not indulge in the 
luxury of a summer palace or the expensive pleasures of club 
life, but locates his living apartments in or near the same 
building with his business. 

THE SPANIARD KEEN-EYED AND ALERT. 

A north-country Spaniard is a keen and able merchant, 
and a competitor whom all must respect in the business field. 
It is told that recently a delegation of American Hebrews came 
to the island in search of money-making enterprises, but dis- 
covering that none of their race had so far ever succeeded in 
maintaining a foothold, they departed on the next outgoing 
steamer, remarking that if a Jew had not yet made money 
there the conditions must be hard indeed. So much for the 
economic conditions. As yet the tariff regulations are against 
the United States. It is expected, though, that the amended 
schedule of 1898, now in operation, will be taken up shortly 
for revision and important changes will be made in it. At 
present foods and provisions from the United States are the 
main articles favored by its application. In many instances 
the rate of tariff is absolutely prohibitory to Americans, and 
where it is not, the uniformity or " open-door " policy of duties 
enables French, German, and English merchants to undersell 
American goods. A careful examination of the markets will 
show large European importations of foreign textiles, fancy 
goods, hardware, machinery, etc. When the schedules are 
definitely determined, it may be possible to note an increase of 
American manufactures ; but admitting this to be certain, it is 



74 A PRACTICAL VIEW OF CUBA. [April, 

probable that, with but few exceptions, American goods will 
only sell here because of some particular novelty or finish and 
not because of their low prices. A discriminating tariff in favor 
of the United States is not consistent with our humanitarian 
and open-door policy in the late war. Americans will not suc- 
ceed so well as shop-keepers and merchants as they will by 
introducing distinctively American institutions. 

Real estate transactions present many complications to a 
stranger. Ownership by corporate bodies is not based upon 
English or American methods. Large parcels of property may 
be owned by three or more individuals, but their interests are 
separate and distinct, and hence the difficulty of definitely clos- 
ing a transaction, with conflicting claims, within a reasonable 
time. Briefly, it may be said that if a purchaser is enabled to 
secure the deeds of any property, it is the best guarantee of 
ownership. Tracing back the possession of it is frequently 
attended with so many inaccuracies of record as to be unreliable. 

THE PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT. 

The work of the provisional government, under General 
Brooke, is proceeding rapidly. Major-General Ludlow is already 
established in his official headquarters as. municipal governor of 
Havana, with a goodly number of assistants. As far as practi- 
cable, his administration will not conflict in any way with city 
local authority, which is controlled by Prefect La Costa 
as Mayor of Havana. It is the policy of the Brooke and 
Ludlow administration to fill all offices with Cubans as rapidly 
as they show ability to assume charge. Americans will be 
secondary consideration in all government appointments, and 
with the mustering out of many United States troops, by next 
April the display of American authority here will become 
softened. Port Collector Colonel Bliss is following the lines laid 
down by the administration in making appointments for the 
custom house. Many of the candidates are Cuban soldiers or 
patriots, who preface their letters of application with a re- 
minder of the abuse they received from the Spanish govern- 
ment. In one of these letters of application the writer stated 
that " his possessions had been systematically confiscated, robbed 
and plundered from him during the last ten years by the 
Spanish government." 

HOUSE-CLEANING IN PROGRESS. 

But each day attests the energy of the new administration 
in the care of the cities. At every turn street-cleaners are 
working towards yet unexplored accumulations. All public 



1 899.] 



A PRACTICAL VIEW OF CUBA. 



75 




76 A PRACTICAL VIEW OF CUBA. [April, 

buildings are being painted, scrubbed, and whitewashed as fast 
as time will permit ; and if the same operation could be ap- 
plied to many of the churches, schools, and dwellings it would 
be an untold blessing. A recent move of Major Cooke, who 
is in charge of the sanitary inspection, has been the appoint- 
ment of plumbing inspectors to make reports concerning the 
utility and hygienic condition of the plumbing service in stone 
dwelling houses, a great and immediate necessity. Before the 
entrance of the United States troops it was no uncommon 
sight to witness a flock of vultures feeding upon the carcass of 
some dead animal in the city streets ; in fact this spectacle oc- 
casionally offends the tourist even yet. Abuses of this charac- 
ter, together with revolting exhibitions of deformities and 
diseases by professional beggars in many of the prominent 
squares and thoroughfares, are to be remedied as quickly as 
the machinery of the administration can be made to do its 
work. 

Should the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals 
desire new fields of operation, it will certainly find an exten- 
sive one in Cuba. Horses and mules are overloaded and 
abused; and as grass feed is the chief fodder for beasts of 
burden, they have little strength in comparison with our tem- 
perate, acclimated animals. It is a common sight to witness 
splendid teams of oxen yoked together in such a manner that 
free use of the head and shoulders is utterly impossible. 
Their heads are forced down into a heavy yoke which is placed 
directly back of the horns and on top of the head. From this 
yoke an iron chain passes down along the animal's nose and 
through his nostrils back again to its starting point. To see 
these patient beasts toiling in the hot sun all day with this 
cruel harness upon them is painful to any human being, and 
we hope before long steps will be taken to introduce more 
humanitarian methods here. 

THE CHURCH IN CUBA. 

The church and its standing in Cuba is at the present of 
universal interest. As to the much-discussed religious apathy 
of the people at least the male portion towards the religion 
of their country, it is safe to say that it is due more to personal 
disposition than to the lack of apostolic zeal on the part of 
the church. The latter is best represented by the well-conducted 
establishment of the Jesuits and by the fathers of the Church of 
Mercedes, which is one of the most beautiful and artistic church 
edifices in the country. These churches, with their colleges, are 



1899-] A PRACTICAL VIEW OF CUBA. 77 

a credit to Catholicity in Cuba, and the modelling of their 
methods by other churches and communities, particularly in 
standards of activity, order, and cleanliness, would advance the 
influence of Catholic work so mightily that the so-called con- 
templated " mission " of Protestantism would have no further 
effect than that of stimulating the active workers of the Catho- 
lic Church to greater deeds of glory for their religion. " Mis- 
sions by Protestants " will probably act as a healthful stimulant 
and motive power for the church to begin a new era of life in 
Cuba. We have only to consider its marvellous growth in the 
United States and England, as well as in Mexico, during the 
last quarter of a century as proof of this. In the latter coun- 
try, although always strongly entrenched, and its policy guided 
at one time by the clerical party in combination with the gov- 
ernment, yet under the latter-day administration the position 
and influence of the church is greater than ever before. Pro- 
testant missionaries are forced to admit this through the failure 
of their own efforts. 

HOPEFUL SIGNS FOR THE FUTURE. 

The Spanish descendant is a Catholic normally and practi- 
cally and the old faith of his fathers is in his blood as strong 
as his love for country, but it needs awakening. While Spain 
yielded a revenue to the church of $1,800,000 annually, it 
was to be expected that her policy would be to support the gov- 
ernment and that her suggestions as to important appointments 
would receive consideration. This state of politics may ex- 
plain some things which appear strange alike to Catholics and 
Protestants. 

The funerealism as well as sad, heavy atmosphere surrounding 
many of the old Spanish churches and religious houses adapted 
itself to the moods and tastes of the people. The ornate dis- 
play of statues, gaudy paintings, and votive offerings, while not 
appealing to an American Catholic, had yet a purpose in sym- 
bolizing the feelings of a people infused with Latin, Indian, 
and Negro blood, and of reaching sentiments which never could 
be realized by simple hymn and prayer. 

With the light and progress of the future, ever conducing 
to its advantage, the church will gain added encouragement, 
strength, and respect, and be an arbitrator in many 
ties which will arise. No institution has so much vvoj 
of it and such splendid promise of success as has 
in Cuba when that land is under the guidance of thel 

Monseigneur Chapelle is already there and at wort;\Father 




78 A PRACTICAL VIEW OF CUBA. [April, 

Sherman was reported at the Jesuits' on the 1st of March ; 
Father Jones, of the Augustinians, preached his first sermon in 
English to American tourists and Catholics in Havana three 
weeks ago at the old chapel adjoining the property of the 
Augustinians, who were expelled by the Spaniards some 
fifty years ago because of their Cuban tendencies. Father 
Jones expects to draw all American Catholics to his chapel for 
services because of the instruction given in English. Already 
the hand of the active American can be seen in the applica- 
tion he has made of broom and paint-pot, and in his well-defined 
ideas of modern art in the adornment and improvement of his 
chapel. Father Jones would impress one as a man of wide 
experience and thought, who will rapidly gain the co-operation 
of all Americans by his ability for work and his solicitous re- 
gard for the sick and dying soldiers in Havana hospital. .His 
attendance to their spiritual comfort and needs is ever in de- 
mand, and this responsibility, in addition to his duties as a priest 
in charge of the American Havana colony, leaves him no time 
at his disposal. Of all men he is one of the most needed, and 
moreover the most respected by the Americans in Havana. 

HEALTH CONDITIONS OF THE CLIMATE. 

A burning question presented to Americans contemplating a 
visit to the new possessions is that of the health conditions 
and the liability to diseases germane to the country and 
climate. A few safe and positive rules carefully observed will 
do much to relieve anxiety on this point ; and from the expe- 
riences of army and navy physicians, together with the native 
doctors, the following seem to have proved the most trust- 
worthy : The best season in Cuba and Puerto Rico is from Oc- 
tober to April, known as the dry period. Outside of this 
term the rainy season is continual and, with but few excep- 
tions, rain falls every day in heavy thunder-storms. The sun 
will burst forth suddenly after these showers and create by its 
intense heat a vapor-laden atmosphere in which the malarial germ 
is a menace to those who are not acclimated, if they neglect 
certain wise precautions. It cannot be truly said that the heat 
is very severe, for an average of temperature taken during the 
jast ten years shows this result: in January, 70 Fahr.; March, 
73 ; June, 80. One should drink pure water or water which 
has been clarified by filtering, eschewing the free use of intoxi- 
cants. Fresh bananas are not recommended too highly, but 
limes and pine-apples and the milk of green cocoa-nuts are said 
to be excellent. Long exposure to the night atmosphere should 






1 899.] 



A PRACTICAL VIEW OF CUBA. 



79 




8o A PRACTICAL VIE w OF CUBA, [April, 

be prudently avoided, together with the wearing of damp cloth- 
ing and shoes. The basements and stone courts, with their in- 
viting shadows on a hot day, may only lure to destruction. 
The higher one locates his apartments in these houses, the fur- 
ther does he travel from the microbe. 

Yellow fever is common enough in unclean localities to 
cause apprehension of contagion among foreigners even in 
healthy places. In the army free use is made of quinine and 
citrate of magnesia as a preventive against it. In a word, with 
a strict adherence to the time-proven axiom and the practical 
application of the " pound of prevention," an American may live 
in Havana the year round and surfer no impairment of his 
health. A flesh wound, received by accident or otherwise, 
should have an application of an antiseptic as quickly as possi- 
ble in order to prevent the possibility of a disorder known as 
" tetanus," which is a peculiar form of blood-poisoning common 
among the natives of the island. 

It is to be regretted that many of the untimely deaths 
among our brave troops were due to a disregard or ignorance 
of some of these precautions. The governor, Major-General 
Ludlow, has found it necessary to issue public orders to every 
saloon-keeper prohibiting the sale of intoxicants to the army 
under penalty of seizure and imprisonment. Outside of the 
army the mass of the people may be divided into Spanish, Cu- 
ban, and Negro classes. The first comprise the leading mer- 
chants, bankers, and property-owners of the city. Although 
the Spaniards have been abused in all styles for the American 
people by our yellow sheets and prejudiced magazines, yet 
from personal contact, and from the experience of our entire 
army and navy engaged in Cuba, the impression which he has 
produced is a very favorable one. Our troops without excep- 
tion accord the Spanish unstinted praise for many courtesies 
and attentions, while the tourists will find that, as a class, they 
still represent large interests and unquestionable integrity as 
merchants. In proof of this, it is a fact that during the whole 
of the late war not one merchant of Havana suffered failure. 

The Spaniard of Cuba is well disposed towards the policy 
of the United States upon the island, and as a class will be 
found ready to adopt any course which will aid prosperity and 
peace and accomplish the best results for the good of all. 

Havana, Cu&a, March 5, iSqq. 







i8cg] CHARITY AS IT WAS AND Is. 81 

CHARITY AS IT WAS AND IS. 

BY H. M. BEADLE. 

HE word charity has several meanings, but I 
shall treat of it only in the sense of aiding 
the poor. In the middle ages that is, in Catho- 
lic times the state did not assume the duty of 
individuals by caring for the poor, yet the poor 
were never so well cared for as during that time. It is well, 
it seems to me, to inquire how the poor were cared for before 
the state took upon itself the duty of relieving them. 

It was devotion to Christian principles that is to say, 
the principles taught by the Catholic Church of God that 
caused individuals in the middle ages to relieve the necessities 
of the poor. These principles could not have been so effective 
had not the people of that day fully accepted them, and car- 
ried them out in their relations to others. Every Christian in 
the middle ages believed that God, being the Creator of all 
things, was the owner of all things, and that man's ownership 
of property was subordinate to God's ; and that man in pos- 
sessing wealth acted as the steward of God ; that man had a 
right to the proceeds of his labor and wealth only by the law 
of God, which gave him out of his income what was necessary 
for himself and his family ; all beyond this to be used, accord- 
ing to divine law, for the poor, for religion, and for the state, 
and that God would hold each individual to a strict account if 
he made an unjust or evil use of the wealth which he had put 
in his hands. This may be seen in the old books of instruc- 
tion as well as in the old prayer-books, under the head of pre- 
paration for confession. This truth is still held, but I have 
not been able to learn why these instructions are not printed 
in modern English prayer-books and books of instruction. 

CHARITY A MATTER OF CONSCIENCE. 

In the Confession Book, prepared by Johannes Wolf in Ger- 
man, and printed in 1473, it is said of the aged poor : " They 
are as fathers and mothers on account of their age, and repre- 
sent Jesus." Then, as the penitent prepares for confession, he 
is made to ask himself: "Have I ridiculed the poor? Have I 
respected them ? Have I visited them and given them to eat 
VOL. LXIX. 6 



82 CHARITY AS IT WAS AND Is. [April, 

and to drink ? Have I treated them rudely or made them 
stand at my door ? " And then the writer says : " Christians 
should consider their superfluities as belonging to the poor. 
Examine yourself on this point, and, if guilty, accuse yourself 
somewhat as follows ; ' I have loved riches, which belong to 
the poor, so much that I neglected to give alms.' ' 

In the Key of Paradise, printed in Philadelphia, and approved 
by Bishop Kenrick, of that city, afterward Archbishop of Bal- 
timore, in the preparation for confession, it is asked, Have we 
sinned against ourselves " By avarice ? in being backward in 
giving alms according to our ability, in squandering away in 
gaming, or in vain or foolish expenses, the substance that 
Providence has given for the relief of the poor and the dis- 
tressed ; in not only refusing them alms which we can afford, 
but in refusing it with bitterness, reproaches, imperious or ill- 
natured language, or with an insulting air ; in being too much 
attached to the goods of this life, when it must be ever re- 
membered that what is really superfluous to us belongs of 
right to the poor ; that where there is much, much should be 
given, and where there is only a little, even some of that little 
should be given ; for ' God loves a cheerful giver.' " 

LEO XIII. ON THE RIGHT USE OF MONEY. 

This is a modern as well as an ancient teaching. Our Most 
Holy Father, Leo XIII., is quoted by Father Gasquet, the 
great Benedictine author, as follows: "The chiefest and most 
excellent rule for the right use of money rests on the principle 
that it is one thing to have the right to the possession of 
money and another to have the right to use money as one 
pleases. If the question be asked : How must one's posses- 
sions be used ? the church answers in the words of the holy 
doctor (St. Thomas Aquinas) : ' Man should not consider his 
outward possessions as his own, but as common to all, so as 
to share them without difficulty when others are in need. When 
necessity has been supplied, and one's own position fairly con- 
sidered, it is a duty to give to the indigent out of that which 
is over. It is a duty, not of justice (except in extreme cases), 
but of Christian charity, . . . (and) to sum up what has 
been said : Whoever has received from the divine bounty a 
large share of blessings . . . has received them for the 
purpose of using them for the perfecting of his own nature, 
and, at the same time, that he may employ them, as the minis- 
ter of God's providence, for the benefit of others.' " 



1899-] CHARITY AS IT WAS AND Is. 83 

PIUS IX. ON CHARITY. 

The poor were also relieved in the middle ages because the 
church taught that it was the duty of Christians to love their 
neighbors as themselves, following the precept of our Lord. 
In this day we cannot fully understand, how that precept was 
followed by all classes of people in the middle ages, for few 
fully comprehend what they do not see. Pius IX., of holy 
memory, in addressing members of St. Vincent de Paul's So- 
ciety, in Rome, December 6, 1854, gave expression to the princi- 
ple that animated the people of the middle ages, paraphrasing 
our Saviour's words: " Love each other and love your brethren, 
not for the personal qualities or the natural gifts with which 
God has endowed some of them, but love them solely because 
every one of your brethren, even if he were the least among 
the last of men, is still My image." They loved each other 
because they saw in each other the image of their Saviour, 
and relieved their necessities because he had told them to. 
There was still another reason why the people of the middle 
ages relieved the poor, and that was because of the doctrine 
of good works. They believed with St. James, that faith with- 
out works was dead, and that by relieving the poor, the sick, 
and the prisoner, they were obeying their Divine Master, and, 
through his merits, laying up treasures in heaven. And among 
the many good works they did, relieving the poor was the 
first. 

THE CHARITABLE WORK OF THE MONASTERIES. 

The people of the middle ages founded monasteries that 
they might relieve the poor and teach religion at the same 
time. They believed they were thus providing a sure relief 
for the poor for all time. It was the rule, especially in Eng- 
land, to give one-third of the tithes to the relief of the poor. 
There were also foundations in almost every parish which 
yielded a revenue for the relief of the poor. Of Germany 
Martin Luther wrote : " Our fathers and forefathers, kings, 
princes, nobles, and others, gave generously, lovingly, and 
overflowingly to churches, parishes, institutions, and hospitals," 
and the great German historian, Janssen, supplements Luther's 
statement thus : " The voluntary offerings for good works were 
so constant and abundant that there was never any need .any- 
where, in town or country, for government or public donations, 
for the levying of poor-rates or school-rates, or for house-to- 



84 CHARITY AS IT WAS AND Is. [April, 

house collections." Every noble or wealthy family gave relief 
to the poor every day. The guilds supported their own poor 
and often gave relief to others. There were no poor-houses or 
hospitals conducted by the state, but the poor and the sick 
were taken care of in both, though the far greater number of 
the indigent poor were cared for in their own homes or in the 
homes of others. The poor were not shut up from their neigh- 
bors and friends as has become necessary nowadays, because 
the people, not seeing in them the image of their Saviour, turn 
them over to the care of the state. Often the alms for the 
poor were in excess of their needs, and the excess was appro- 
priated to other pious uses. The Black Death destroyed one- 
third of the people of Europe, and Rev. Augustus Jessops, who 
has studied the conditions of the people of the middle ages 
for many years, seems to be of the opinion that this terrible 
plague, if it prevailed to a like extent in our day, would disin- 
tegrate society to a greater degree than it did five hundred 
years ago. 

LUTHER THE RECIPIENT OF CATHOLIC CHARITY. 

The children of the poor, especially in Germany, were edu- 
cated by the charity of the people. Martin Luther's parents 
were poor until he was about twenty years of age. His father, 
who was a peasant, could read and write German, and Luther 
could read and write when he was six years old, and so could 
many of his playmates. The whole of the expense of Luther's 
education, until he went to the University of Erfurt, was the 
gift of charitable people, all of whom were Catholics. Many other 
of the great men of Germany got their education at that time 
in the same way. The man that overthrew the church in the 
greater part of Germany was trained in Catholic schools, his 
expenses for ten years or more being paid by Catholics, be- 
cause of the ideas of Christian charity which prevailed in that 
age which so many ill-instructed people call " dark." 

In almost every city and large village, and, it may be said, 
in every parish, there were provisions by foundations of monas- 
teries, guilds, or other associations, or by the parish itself, for 
relieving the poor and teaching their children. In the course 
of time the revenues of many of these became important. 
These foundations were all connected with the church to a greater 
or less extent, and when in Germany and England the Reforma- 
tion prevailed, the greater part of these revenues were taken 
by the princes of Germany and the crown of England. Jans- 






1 899-] CHARITY AS IT WAS AND Is. 85 

sen and Audin show how these were taken in Germany ; and 
Cobbett, Gasquet, and Jessops show how it was done in Eng- 
land. In taking the lands and revenues belonging to these 
foundations the poor were despoiled far more than the church. 
Not only were the lands of the poor, and what may be called 
their annuities, taken, but no revenues were left for their main- 
tenance, except the direct charities of those whose earnings had 
been impaired by the high prices caused by the debasement of 
money. 

DESPOLIATION OF THE MONASTERIES. 

I know it has been told for three hundred years that the 
church and the monasteries had been rightfully despoiled, be- 
cause they had accumulated what properly belonged to the 
state. This monstrous lie might be allowed to pass with a sim- 
ple denial, but it must be observed that if this property right- 
fully belonged to the state', the proceeds of those confiscations 
should have gone into the coffers of the state. But they did 
not ; they went into the hands of kings, princes, nobles, ad- 
venturers, and other equally disreputable people, men and wo- 
men. None of them went to relieve the poor or to educate 
their children. Even the foundations which were made for the 
education of poor children were stolen from them and appro- 
priated by the rich, as Professor Thorold Rogers truthfully 
states. The property and revenues of the guilds, which were 
the property of working people, were confiscated in England, 
and though the revenues of the poor were pointed out to the 
officials in England, all was taken under the pretence that it 
belonged to the church. The revenues of hospitals were taken 
the same as those of the monasteries and guilds. Gasquet has 
shown that the culmination of the Reformation in England was 
the robbery of the poor by the rich, and Janssen shows that 
practically the same state of affairs prevailed in Germany. 

THE REFORMATION AND THE WAGE-EARNERS. 

With the success of the Reformation in Germany and England 
came a rise in prices, which made the working people, once so 
prosperous, very poor. There was a slight rise in wages, but it 
bore no proportion to the rise in prices. Those who had be- 
come seized with the wealth of the churches, monasteries, 
hospitals, guilds, and foundations for the relief of the poor, 
were able to dictate both prices and wages, and the latter 
have not to this day overtaken the former, though great advance- 



86 CHARITY AS IT WAS AND Is. [April, 

ment has been made in this century by the working people in 
both hours and wages, probably at the cost of interrupting the 
continuity of labor. 

The increased prices and comparatively low wages added 
greatly to the numbers of the extremely poor. There was no 
means to relieve these ; those who would have relieved them 
were unable, and those who inherited what had been stolen 
from them, and who should have relieved them, would not. 
After passing many laws and temporizing with the matter many 
years, the English parliament, under Elizabeth, passed a law 
providing that the extremely poor should be sent to state poor- 
houses, and that some out-door relief might be given to those 
who were able to earn part of their living. The distress had 
so grown under Reformation ideas that there was no other way 
to relieve the poor, the people no longer seeing in each poor 
person the image of our Lord. 

In this country we have inherited from England many of the 
laws and principles of the Reformation, and we have poor- 
houses and out-door relief for the poor provided and given by 
the state, for we do not see, any more than the people of 
England under Elizabeth saw, the image of our Saviour in the 
persons of the poor. We do not see any reason why we should 
be called upon, as individuals, to support or relieve the poor. 
Let the state look to it ; the responsibility is upon the state, 
not upon us. To assert that men are not absolute owners of the 
property they possess, being only stewards of God while in 
possession of it, will be considered by many as agrarianism, 
for they have no idea of God's being concerned in the things 
of this world, and they cannot conceive that even God should 
have anything to say as to what they shall do with their own. 
What a terrible awakening some of them may have when their 
lives shall close and eternity open before them ! Before the 
last breath of life shall leave their bodies, may they experience 
that mercy that is impossible to man but possible to God ! 

THE COLDNESS OF STATE CHARITY. 

These days are something like those that ushered in the mis- 
called Reformation. The poor are pressing for relief, but the 
state is giving as little as possible. It is not going abroad like 
a good man, bountiful to relieve the poor, but to find excuses 
for not relieving them. The importunate and self-asserting poor, 
whose self-respect went long ago, get their full share, if not 
more than their shaj*e ; but those " who are ashamed to ask," 



1899-] CHARITY AS IT WAS AND Is. 87 

as St. Thomas of Villanova expresses it, who but God knows 
how they suffer? No reason, or words, or cries will cause the 
state to open its charity to them. To them it is a living stock 
or stone, blind and deaf and conscienceless. When self-respect 
is lost it will relieve, but not till then. 

The multitude are but little better than the state. They have 
human hearts that may be moved at times by cries of distress, 
but they give by impulse, or refer the applicant to the authori- 
ties. When they neither see nor hear of human suffering, they 
take for granted that it does not exist, and do not look for it. 
They are too busy to discuss principles which apply to human 
society, and after the first impulse of pity has expended itself, 
they cease to care about their poorer fellow-creatures until 
something arouses their sympathies again. 

But they ought to appeal with hope to Christians Catholics 
and Protestants. These must see that they are but stewards 
of God for the wealth they possess ; they must see in the poor 
the image of their crucified Lord ; they must know that in re- 
lieving the poor they are relieving their Lord, and that to at- 
tain the reward of Christians in heaven, they must feed the 
hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, help the 
sick and the unfortunate, especially those in prison. How poor 
and naked will we be if, when called to judgment, we cannot 
show we have been faithful stewards of God in using the means 
he has put into our hands, or if we have been unable to dis- 
cern in the poor the image of our Lord and Saviour ! 




88 IN TOLAFAA LAND. [April, 



IN TOLAFAA LAND. 

BY MARY F. NIXON. 
(Illustrated by kodak views taken by one of the officers of the " Vandalta."} 

I 

'OLAFAA!" (Love to you) is the salutation as 
one steps upon the shores of those fair isles of 
the Pacific, midway between Hawaii and New 
Zealand, and so pervading is the spirit of char- 
ity among these gentle and generous islanders 
that the greeting carries with it no end-of-the-century insincerity, 
but bears the stamp of truth. 

Savaii, Upolu, and Tutuila, three large islands and five small 
ones, three thousand square miles in all this is Samoa. Yet how 
small an idea do the bare statistics convey of the beauties of 
these ocean gems. 

They were discovered by Roggewein, a Dutch navigator, in 
1722, but Bougainville visited them in 1768 and named them 
the " Isles of the Navigators," from the extraordinary skill 
which the natives displayed in the management of their bark 
canoes. 

In 1830 English missionaries went to settle in the islands 
and found the natives gentle, peaceable creatures. As a race 
they came from the Malay archipelago and they are a light 
brown in color, with rich olive tints, the women perfectly formed 
and graceful, the men sinewy and strong. 

The hair is straight and black, but red hair is much admired 
and Samoan beauties often bleach and dye their locks by means 
of coral lime, which is also used to stiffen the ringlets so that 
they will stand straight out from the head. Flower-wreaths are 
very fashionable, and the elite of the isles deck themselves 
gaily, and many of these women are very beautiful. They have 
a natural and unconscious grace, and swaying from a grape-vine 
or seated in the gnarled trunk of a mighty palmetto they pre- 
sent a pleasing picture of untamed femininity, charming and 
often lovely. 

Living upon cocoa-nut, bread-fruit, banana, and taro, the 
Samoan diet is simple and healthful for so warm a climate. 
The cocoa-nut milk makes a cooling drink, the meat is eaten, 
and although the mighty groves of trees grow wild in the 



IN 7 OLA FA A LAND. 



89 




islands, the na- 
tives prize the 
fruit so greatly 
that one of the 
unwritten laws of 
the land is that 
new trees shall be 
planted each year. 

Roasted bread- 
fruit golden discs 
cut from among 
the dark green 
serrated leaves 
and the taro, grow- 
ing in patches with 
its shiny, heart- 
shaped leaves, are 
delicacies to the 
Samoan palate, 
but luxury of lux- 
uries is kava. This 
beverage is made 
from the root of 
the pepper-tree, 
and its curious 
concoction is well 
described by Hen- 
ry Whitaker in his 
interesting sketch 
of Samoa : 

"A wooden 
bowl, a cocoa-nut 
cup, and a strain- 
er are the imple- 
ments used in 
making the brew," 
he says. " That 
personage of the 
chief importance in Samoa, 'the Maid of the Village,' is in- 
variably called upon to brew the beverage, which ceremony, 
with her attendants, she conducts with becoming dignity. 
After carefully washing out her mouth in the presence of 
all assembled, she seats herself upon the matted floor with 





A SMALL IDEA DO BARE STATISTICS CONVEY OF THE 
BEAUTY OF THESE ISLANDS." 



9 



IN To LA FA A LAND. 



[April, 



the bowl in front of her and, with resigned manner and pre- 
occupied countenance, begins to masticate the bits of root 
handed her by the attendants. Piece after piece is chewed un- 
til the mouth is full and the cheeks bulging out, when the 
mass is ejected into the palm of the hand and with a graceful 
swing deposited in the bowl. 

"This operation is repeated until a proper quantity of the 




"THE NATIVES DISPLAY EXTRAORDINARY SKILL IN THE MANAGEMENT OF 
THEIR BARK CANOES." 

root is secured. Then the hands are washed scrupulously clean 
and an attendant, having poured the required amount of water 
into the bowl, the maid proceeds with the compounding. With 
a rolling and twisting movement of the hands she mixes all 
the undissolved portions of the root in the fou (strainer), which, 
after wringing, is shaken out and the straining repeated until 
the brew is finished. 

" A vigorous clapping of hands announces that it is ready to 
be served, whereupon the highest chief, in a loud voice, ex- 
claims, ' Ah, here is kava! Let it be served.' One of the at- 
tendants produces the cup and presents it at the bowl to be 
filled by the maid. This she does by plunging the strainer in 
the liquid, afterwards squeezing it over the cup. 

She will then face about and, with the cup held delicate- 
ly by the outer rim and level with her dimpled chin, with her 



1 8 9 9-] 



Lv To LA FA A LAND. 



arm raised, stand in the most charming attitude of expectation 
awaiting the crier's instructions as to whom to take the cup." 

People are -always served according to rank in Samoa, the 
greatest chief first, and as each is served he either returns the 
cup to the maid with thanks or and this is considered a great 
feat with thumb and finger he spins it along the floor mat, 
causing it to stop exactly before the bowl. 

A woman may make kava and serve the men, but she may 
not taste it except upon great occasions. 

Dancing is one of the favorite pastimes of this fun loving 
people, and the national dance is the Siva, made up as are so 
many of the beautiful Spanish dances more of graceful pos- 
turing and gestures than of set figures or revolutions. The 
miidens dance and sing, gliding into a score of easy postures, 
waving their polished, bronze-like arms, with flower garlands 
and palm branches twined about their full, dark, column-like 
throats. Very lovely they look against a background of cool 
green taro and huge palmetto and banana trees waving in the 
soft, languorous tropic breeze. 

Costumes are scanty, consisting 
of tapa, or cloth, wound about the 
loins and extending to the knees. 
This is called lava lava, and the wo- 
men wear in addition to it a drapery 
over the shoulder. 

Tapa was formerly the great in- 
dustry of the island, with fish- 
ing, planting taro and fruits, 
and collecting copra. Tapa is 
made from the inner bark of 
the mulberry-tree and pieces 
of it are stuck together with 
paste made from the arrow- 
root. The old women color 
and fashion the 
cloth, and Samo- 
an styles are by 
no means so diffi- 
cult to follow as 
in more (so-called) 
" civilized " coun- 
tries, for certain 
Colors and figures A NATURAL AND UNCONSCIOUS GRACE. 




IN To LAP A A LAND. 



[April, 



are assigned to the chief's family and commoners are not per- 
mitted to wear them. 

A dainty bit of scenery is a Samoan house 'entwined with 
vines amidst the soft luxuriance of a tropic landscape. Some 
one likens it to a huge bee-hive set on posts. The rafters, 
made of the bread-fruit tree, slope down to the ground, and 
they are crossed with ribs lashed together with sennit. The 
roof is heavily thatched with sugar-cane leaves, the open sides 
of the hut hung with cocoa-nut leaf plaited mats which are all 
let down at night, and the floors are of bright sea-pebbles and 
covered with home-made straw mats. There is but one room 
where all the family live, the cooking being done in an out- 
house, and at night curtains of tapa are let down from the 
roof to form chambers. The beds are made of mats and folded 
tapa, with an excruciating pillow of a bamboo rod set upon 
legs. 

From a business point of view there is little opportunity for 
rivalry or jealousy among the islanders, for by tribal inheritance 
they are Communists pure and simple. They borrow or take 
froin each other with bland serenity. " Stingy " is an insulting 
word and never applied except to offend, and as a man's earn- 
ings all belong to his tribe, he follows the Biblical saying about 
the mean between " poverty and riches." Of very old lineage 
are the royal Samoans, for King Malietoa Laupepa was in the 




* 



STRANGERS IN THE LAND. 






IN To LA FA A LAND. 



93 




A SAMOAN CHIEF. 

twenty-first generation of kings, and recognized as such by 
Germany, England, and the United States. He was an ex- 
cellent king, educated in the mission school, wise and laboring 
for the good of his people, but the revolution of 1888 lost him 
his throne, the rebels being supported by foreign officials. 

The missions in the islands are for the most part Catholic, 
the church at Apia being the oldest on the islands. At the 
schools the natives are educated, many of them as missionaries 
to their own people, and a large number of the native women 
have entered the convents as Sisters of Charity. 

The early religion of the islanders was a curious one. At 
birth each Samoan was dedicated to an imaginary god, who 
marked out for him his destiny or fate. The god was incar- 
nate visibly, in a tree, a flower, or some other object, and 
was always greatly revered. The Samoan believes in the soul, 
saying that it takes a journey when a person sleeps and that 
awakening means the return of the Anganga. Their mythology 



94 



IN TOLA FA A LAND. 



[April, 



is vast and interesting, and the tales are handed down from 
father to son by word of mouth. 

Truth, politeness, and gentleness are the favorite virtues for 
womankind ; the men are enjoined to be courageous, truthful, 
and strong, while hospitality is urged upon all. Each village 
contains a Tale-tale, or guest-house, where strangers are enter- 
tained at the public expense for weeks at a time, the whole 
village sending the strangers contributions of fruit, fish, and 
delicacies. When the Tnscarora was sent to convey Colonel 
Steinberger to Samoa, in 1875, the captain of the vessel received 
at one time presents of four hundred and fifty chickens, seven- 
teen pigs, and a ton of yams and potatoes. 

Exquisite beyond description is the scenery of this tropic 
island. 

" The sky is blue and gold and pearl-besprent ; 
High blazes color, roses, poppy, pink; 
The air is incense ; it is joy to live." 

Here is a group of banana trees, palms, and cocoa-nuts ; 
there cool and limpid streams flowing ever to the sea ; further 
inland, when the glowing beams of the vigorous sun cause 
the traveller to seek the woodland shade 




THE LAVA-LAVA COSTUME. 



I 899.] 



IN TOLAFAA LAND. 



95 



" The shadow of the palms is still, but stiller the tall lilies' flame 
(Emblems of Venus and Lilith), and blazes the sun like a boss 
A boss on the Archangel's shield hung in the blue of the sky, 
For the Lady of Noon has arisen and scattered her poppies 
abroad. 




A SAMOAN SETTLEMENT. 

The flower narcissus is bending, drooping, yet loath to die, 
But the lilies are . scarlet, defiant ; they, stately, with one accord 
Face the fierce gaze of the sun-god, knowing no pain nor 

shame, 
While fauns in the groves are moaning, mourning a nameless 

loss." 

It is all nature, lovely, human, speaking of nearness to God 
the Creator perhaps more than more civilized scenes, and it is 
difficult to comprehend how the passions of man could rend to 
atoms the peaceful beauty of the scene. Yet sorrowful has 
been the lot of the Samoans in the last quarter of a century. 

The United States asked for a coaling station in the isles, 
and in 1872 the lovely, land-locked harbor of Pago- Pago, south 



g6 IN TOLAFAA LAXD. [April, 

of Tutuila, was granted to our government for this purpose.. 
But the group had long been a bone of contention to Germany 
and England, although treaty rights provided that the three 
nations should have equal privileges, and in 1888 it became 
evident that Germany desired to violate the treaty and possess 
herself of greater commercial opportunities than were granted 
to others. 

Interference in the affairs of islands seems to be a specialty 
of the German Empire, and Americans in Samoa regarded it in 
about the same light as Admiral Dewey appears to have looked 
upon it in the Philippines. When the rebel Tamasese was upheld 
by a German war vessel and King Malietoa deported to the 
Solomon Isles, it seemed time for the United States govern- 
ment to interfere, tyranny in any form being something Ameri- 
cans will not permit. 

In a scuffle with native troops a German officer had been 
killed and the commander of the warship then in the harbor 
announced that he intended to bombard Apia in revenge for 
the death of his countryman, although that individual had been 
justly punished for interference entirely unwarranted and against 
neutrality laws. 

Our consul protested but to no avail, and he hastened to the 
United States ship Adams, stationed in the harbor, and asked 
the commander to intervene. The captain seems to have been 
of the customary type of American seaman, brave, ready, dis- 
creet, for his trumpet gave forth no uncertain sound in reply. 
He immediately steamed the Adams between the German ship 
and the town, sending word to the rival captain, "You may 
bombard Apia whenever you wish, but it shall be through my 
ship and over my body, sir, and I shall not be responsible for 
the consequences!" It is needless to add that the bombard- 
ment of Apia by the Germans was indefinitely postponed, 
thanks to the courage and discretion of a brave American. 

The Navy Department ordered the Vandalia, Nipsic, and the 
flag-ship Trenton, under the command of Rear Admiral Kimber- 
ly, to make for Samoan waters, and the fleet reached there in 
March, 1889. Besides these war vessels there were in the 
harbor three German men-of-war and one British, and there was 
a lull in the storm of war upon the shore. 

The harbor was an impressive sight. Within its horse-shoe 
curves were seven mighty warships, besides many merchant 
vessels, large and small. 

The Samoan warriors gazed in wonder at the strange vessels. 



IN TOLAFAA LAND. 



97 




" THE KING'S DAUGHTERS." 

Very different were their own preparations for a sea battle. 
The native canoe, long, slender, graceful as a bird on the wing, 
fairly skims the water, and manipulated by the skilful paddlers 
it is a beautiful sight ; but the large canoes are made of small 
peces welded together with sennit and they hold fifty or sixty 
people. In war-time the chiefs lash two of these together, 
thatch a roof over the small decks situated in the middle of 
the boats, and accommodate two hundred warriors, using sails 
of cocoa-nut leaves, while the rowers, with heart-shaped paddles, 
sit facing each other. 

When the great hurricane in which so many lives were lost 
came upon the foreign vessels, the simple islanders said, " The 
great God was displeased at such warlike demonstrations and 
he decided to settle the conflict before it began." 

Often has the story of the Samoan disaster been told. 
Words could not describe the terrific grandeur of the scene 
when the mighty ocean and mightier winds of heaven rose up in 
wrath and played havoc with the works of man as though sport- 
ing with childish toys. Tossed up and down, thrashed hither and 
yon, the great ships were as bubbles upon the waves of the sea. 

The German Eber was the first to go down, only four of 
her crew being saved, and the Adler was lifted bodily into the 
air and dashed down upon a coral reef. 
VOL. LXIX. 7 



98 IN TOLAFAA LAND. [April, 

The Nipsic was beached by her commander to save her from 
a worse fate, and her crew was saved by the natives, who 
bravely risked life and limb to carry out a life-line, dashing 
through the boiling surf to help the sailors to the shore. 

The danger was not only from the winds and waves but, in 
so small a harbor, that the ships would collide with each other. 
Many of the captains endeavored to run their vessels out of the 
harbor into the open sea, but some of the engines were so injured 
that nothing remained but to accept their fate as calmly as possible. 

The Vandalia was beached, and her captain and forty-three 
of the crew were drowned while the greatest heroism was dis- 
played by both officers and men. 

In the hope of bringing the Trenton around so that it might 
escape a reef, since no sail could be set in such a storm, it 
was determined to endeavor to form a human sail, and all hands 
were ordered into the rigging. For a moment the crew hesi- 
tated. Then a young cadet named Jackson, the merest boy, 
ran forward crying, 4< Follow me, boys ! " and he climbed to 
the topmost point of the mast-head, followed by the crew 
to a man. The experiment was successful and the Trenton 
was saved by the brave boy who was not afraid to lead. 

Generous as well as brave were our gallant sailors. As 
the British ship Calliope swept past the Trenton, in the hope 
of making the open sea, the American sailors, in sight of almost 
certain death, gave their British comrades a hearty cheer, and so 
sped them on to safety. The English captain said that cheer 
saved his ship, for his men had become utterly demoralized, 
and the nobility and unselfishness of the Trenton s crew spurred 
their faint hearts to renewed efforts, and the Calliope was saved. 

The noble seamen of the Trenton had their reward, for they 
not only survived but were able to rescue their comrades of 
the Vandalia. 

A curious story is told of an incident which occurred upon 
the unfortunate Vandalia before the Trenton collided with her. 

The surgeon of the ship, Dr. Henry P. Harvey, of Mississippi, 
one of the ablest and bravest men of our navy, had been going 
from man to man trying to save the sick or injured. He had 
exhausted all the stock of life-preservers and had but his own 
left when he found a seaman who had a severely fractured leg. 

" I'm on my last pins now, doctor," said the man cheerfully. 
" There 's nothin' but water to walk on, and I ain't got no legs 
to walk. It's Davy Jones' fur me." 

" Nonsense ! " said Dr. Harvey with a brusque kindliness 
peculiar to him. He took off his life-preserver, put it on the 



1 899.] IN To LA FA A LAND. 99 

man and tied him in a wash-tub, the only pretence of a boat 
left, and set him afloat. The man floated off toward shore, but 
the doctor was, at the moment of launching him, struck in the 
head with a boom, receiving injuries from which he never re- 
covered, dying a year later, as truly laying u down his life for his 
friend " as many for whom the world sounds a trumpet of fame. 

Six months after the hurricane, which took place on March 
14, 1889, Dr. Harvey was in the hospital in San Francisco when 
a lame sailor hobbled up to him, asking, " Doctor, dear, could 
you identify me? You saved me from Davy Jones's locker, 
but I'll never ship again with this bad leg. I can't get my 
pension 'cause all my mates was drowned off Apia, worse luck 
to 'em, an' there 's never a man to tell I 'm tellin' the truth!" 

The doctor asked him the circumstances, and said that he 
remembered the sailor's face but could not be sure of his name 
or as to which ship he had served upon, statistics very neces- 
sary under the circumstances. 

The sailor gave all the details of the doctor's saving him 
from the Vandalia, speaking of his broken leg, the way he was 
given the life-preserver and strapped into the tub, and he said : 

" Bein' a doctor, sir, it '11 be your business to be savin' 
lives, an* you '11 not be thinkin* so much about it " he was an 
Irishman, with a truly Hibernian unconscious wit " but I 've 
got but wan life, an* I 'm not forgettin* the man that saved it. 
If you '11 swear to me, sir, you '11 save me another wan with a 
pension, for I haven't a penny to bless myself with." 

Dr. Harvey identified the man and was able to see him 
comfortably ensconced in a sailor's home, making one less 
victim of the terrible hurricane which brought sadness into 
many American homes. 

The death of King Malietoa in August and the attitude 
of the Germans in the Pacific, as well as the magnificent 
deeds of Admirkl Dewey, bring again to notice the southern 
isles of the sea, and one cannot help but wonder what changes 
the " whirligig of time " will accomplish in the destinies of the 
" Isles of the Navigators," sunny, peaceful, lovely Talafaa Land. 

Mataafa, the present claimant of the throne, is a devout 
Catholic. The people almost unanimously want him for their 
ruler. He is a man of commanding presence and great adminis- 
trative powers. Monseigneur Broyer, the Marist bishop and 
Vicar-Apostolic, who spent more than twenty years in Samoa, 
speaks with unaffected admiration of him : 

" This descendant of those savages, who no longer ago than 
the last century murdered the distinguished navigator La Peyrouse, 



100 



IN To LA FA A LAND. 



[April, 



was brought up in the Protestant religion. About thirty years 
ago he was received into the church, and it was no lukewarm 
conversion. With devout and ardent faith he practises the 
Christian virtues. Every day he makes the Stations of the 
Cross and says the Rosary, which he always carries wound 
around one hand. Each Sunday he receives Holy Communion. 
Great chief as he is, he learned the mason's trade that he 
might help to build the church with his own, hands, and set the 
example to his labor-scorning subjects of Christian humility 
and to show them the true dignity of service paid to God. At 
the time of his conversion he had several wives ; immediately 
he repudiated all but one, to whom he was remarried by a 
priest. Fifteen years ago she died, and since then he has re- 
mained true to her memory. Every day, when he is in Samoa, 
he goes to her grave and recites one decade of the Rosary. 
With this light thrown on his character one can no longer be 
surprised at his magnanimity in saving so many of his ship- 
wrecked foes at the time of the great tornado. * God is pun- 
ishing these white men ; let us be merciful,' he said to his 
men. In regard to recent happenings Monseigneur Broyer can 
only speak from hearsay, since he is now in France, but of the 
character of King Mataafa he is able to speak with authority, 
and he thinks that no happier fate could befall the Samoans 
than to live under the rule of Mataafa." 




THE NATIONAL DANCE is THE "SivA," MADE UP OF GRACEFUL 

POSTURING AND GESTURES. 




THE AUTHOR OF "IRISH IDYLLS." 




MISS JANE BARLOW. 

BY KATHARINE TYNAN HINKSON. 

Y friendship with Miss Barlow is something of 
which I am very proud. This writer, so retiring, 
so modest, so simple, is not to be heard of in 
London drawing rooms. Even Dublin drawing- 
rooms know nothing of her. You will find her 
in her own village of Raheny, in an old-fashioned, cool, bright 
house, part of it a real thatched cottage, or in her walled gar- 
den with its beautiful stretch of turf, gay with flowers in their 
seasons. She will never be drawn very far from her own home, 
where she keeps an almost nun-like seclusion ; but though her 
feet stay at home, her mind travels abroad, Again and again her 
breadth of view, her tolerance, her wide sympathy, have filled 
me with admiration. 

When I saw her first she had been coaxed to a little party 
in a Dublin studio. She came in closely veiled, a shy, slender 



102 Miss JANE BARLOW. [April, 

figure in black, keeping close to the side of her benignant-faced 
mother. It was a trying ordeal for her to be there. After- 
wards she said to me : " I felt inclined to turn back and run, 
run, run never stop running till I got home again." 

Since then she has lost something of her fear of her fellow- 
creatures, which is entirely a matter of personal shyness. Of 
anything farouche in this shyness there is not a trace. With 
those who are admitted to her friendship there are no visible 
barriers. Her letters are beautiful, so simple, so frank, so full 
of revelation of her mind and heart. Once when I wanted to 
write about her and asked her for some material, she supplied 
me abundantly. Her attitude was : " If you want to write about 
me, and if people care to hear about me, which is to me quite 
inexplicable, I must do all I can to help you." It impressed me 
so much, having had experience of people self-assertive and 
worldly, who yet professed a fierce abhorrence of the public 
gaze. 

I first knew Miss Barlow's work about ten years before 
" Irish Idylls " made her famous. She was contributing prose 
and verse then to a review called Hibernia y which appeared in 
Dublin in the early eighties. Most of the verse had a strong 
classical influence. Miss Barlow has considerable scholarship, 
and at that time her poetry was just what you would expect 
from the daughter of a university don. I remember, however, 
one lovely poem on a late spring more lyrical than anything 
else of hers I can recall: 

" Heavy-hearted doubters we, 

Now when April's core is cloven, 
Fade our Spring faiths all disproven ; 

Still by woodland, lawn and lea 
Skies like chinkless iron barred, 
Boughs as black as rafters charred, 

Where long since we looked to see 
Veils of living emerald woven. 

" For a weary while ago 

Round about our fields we heard 

Such a clear, prophetic word 
Breathed, where Southern winds did blow, 

And the sky grew all one plot. 

Daisy and forget-me-not 
Laughing to the vales below, 

' Let the primrose make a third.' ' 



I899-] Miss JANE BARLOW. 103 

That was in 1883, and I remember asking Mr. George Noble 
Plunkett, the editor, about the authorship, and then for the 
first time hearing Miss Barlow's name a name to become so 
dear to me in time. 

During the eighties Miss Barlow assiduously wrote, and 
burnt most of what she wrote. One of her " Bogland Studies," 
"Walled Out," appeared during these years, about 1886 I think, 
in the Dublin University Review, but Miss Barlow kept the secret 
of her identity carefully, even though the editor of the Review 
appended a note to several issues asking for the name of the 
contributor of a poem he rightly thought so remarkable. 

"Bogland Studies" appeared in 1891, and gave us the first 
indication that there was a new writer amongst us. It was fol- 
lowed a year later by " Irish Idylls," written at the earnest per- 
suasion of Dr. Robertson Nicoll, who seems to have a special 
gift for finding out as yel unsuspected capabilities. " Irish 
Idylls " assured Miss Barlow's reputation ; and she has added 
to it since by the even more beautiful " Strangers at Lis- 
connel." She has also published one or two volumes of short 
stories, and a longer book, Kerrigans Quality ; this last hardly 
reached the level of the short stories as a whole, but the early 
chapters were as fine as anything Miss Barlow has ever done, 
and in Kerrigan she has shown us that she can create a man. 

As readers of discrimination will probably be interested in 
the evolution of a writer, I will let Miss Barlow speak for her- 
self. Her mother, who died in 1894 an irreparable loss seems 
to have been all that is most beautiful of womanly and motherly 
nature. She brought up her children to the utmost gentleness, and 
gentleness shines like a light from Miss Barlow's delicate face. 
She loved "all, things both great and small," and Miss Barlow 
wrote to me once of her and her old home this lovely bit 
which I transcribe : 

" It seemed as if she could not help trying to do some 
kindness to any live thing that came in her way. I have 
known her to make pets of such unlikely things as stray bats 
and water-esks. Bats really are attractive, they have such wise 
faces, and water-esks have a weird charm of their own ; their 
orange markings are very pretty, and they have such beautiful 
bright eyes. We used to catch them when we were children 
in a ditch in one of my grandfather's fields. Once I remember 
she reared a large family of very tiny wild rabbits whose 
mother had been killed by a dog. When they were old enough 
she brought them out into the fields to let them go, as we 



104 Miss JANE BARLOW. [April, 

could not keep them in captivity ; but they had grown so fond 
of her that they ran after her and wanted to follow her home. 
Those fields at Sibyl Hill would have amused you. They were 
full of old beasts, living and dead, for they always were given 
decent burial there when they died of old age. On the same 
principle the place was pervaded by ancient men, who were 
long past their work, and never were supposed to do any. 
Our old nurse sometimes said that when she saw their foot- 
kerns about the place, she thought it would be a charity if 
some one would tie them together with a rope and throw them 
into a ditch. I remember the saying because it always struck 
me as such a singularly eccentric form for charity to take." 

In an earlier letter Miss Barlow says, in answer to my ques- 
tions : 

" My people say that I always knew how to read, and 
though I think this is hardly possible, I never remember being 
unable to do so. I dimly recollect learning to write when I 
was five or six, and one of the earliest things I remember is 
dictating to my aunt my first poem, which I enclose. I sup- 
pose it is an imitation of something I had been reading. I was 
about five years old m at the time. My impression is that in 
those days I used to read all the time I was awake, except 
when I was sent out for a walk, which I detested. My favor- 
ite books were Kingsley's Heroes and Hawthorne's Tanglewood 
Tales. I also delighted much in two bound volumes of the 
earliest numbers of The Cornhill. One of them contained Mrs. 
Browning's " A Musical Instrument," which I used to read over 
and over. I always covered up the picture of Pan, which I did 
not like, with both hands. I think it was that poem made me 
resolve to be a poet myself. I don't know why, for it takes 
rather a melancholy view of the poet's lot. Other poems that 
were much in my mind were, one of Barry Cornwall's, beginning 
'The Summer Night is all star-bright,' and Tennyson's ' Brook,' 
* Lady of Shalott,' and ' Mariana.' But more than those Long- 
fellow's ' I Stood on the Bridge,' which our nursery-maid used 
to sing. I always identified the bridge with the wooden bridge 
at the Bull close by Clontarf, where we then lived, and I really 
believe it is in a considerable measure responsible for my pes- 
simistic turn of mind. We left Clontarf for this house at 
Raheny when I was about eight years old. Very soon after 
that I began to write a novel (I read innumerable novels in 
those days, which is perhaps the reason why I can read hardly 
any now). I remember nothing about it except that the hero- 



1899-] Miss JANE BARLOW. 105 

ine's name was Alice and that she lived in Rotten Row, which 
happened to be the only London name I knew. The work re- 
mained a very small fragment. I rather think that some deri- 
sion expressed by my family on discovering the heroine's address 
brought it to an untimely end. After that I did not attempt 
any prose for a long time, but I wrote many ' poems/ which I 
periodically burnt with scorn and loathing. 

" At last, somewhere towards the end of the seventies, I be- 
gan to write short stories, and sometimes sent them to maga- 
zines ; but I daresay they were very bad and nobody wanted 
them, and I always burnt them too. I often resolved not to 
try any more and to content myself with my books and music, 
but somehow I never could. Then in 1883 or 1884 Mr. Payn 
accepted a short story for Cornhill, and after that he occasion- 
ally took one, and I had a few in the Whitehall Review and 
Times. When I came back from Greece in 1889 I contributed 
a good many papers to the Graphic. That is all, I believe, that 
I did in my silent years, except what I contributed to Hibernia 
and the Dublin University Review. I wrote a metrical transla- 
tion of the Batrachomyomachia, and translations, for private use, 
of parts of Kant, and I learned some Greek. I know enough 
to know how little of it I know." 

It is not easy to believe that Miss Barlow's work is not writ- 
ten out of intimate knowledge of Irish peasant life, but such is 
the fact. " Irish Idylls " was written after a two months' stay in 
Connemara, the scenery of which is the scenery of the Idylls. 
But if you know anything of her great shyness you will know 
that she could never sit by cabin fires and coax the reticent 
peasants to unveil themselves as she seems to have done. 
Raheny village is close to her home, but I am sure its half- 
moon of cottages remains uninvaded for her. The old nurse 
of whom she speaks and the old servants of the house are 
probably the only peasants she ever knew intimately. From 
this old nurse she gathered many a delicious phrase. Hers is 
a striking example of the genius of insight and sympathy. 




io6 THE NEW EDUCATION BILL. [April, 



THE NEW EDUCATION BILL IN NEW YORK STATE. 

N the Report of the Superintendent of Public 
Instruction of the State of New York just pub- 
lished there is a recommendation that "The 
Education Bill " be pushed through both branches 
of the Legislature and enacted into a law as 
early as possible. To the public at large this is a very inno- 
cent recommendation, and very few even of professional edu- 
cators gave it but a passing notice ; but beneath this placid 
statement there lies a very large scheme of a very shrewd 
schemer to concentrate all the educational interests of the 
State into his office and control all their dependencies accord- 
ing to his pleasure. 

The primogeniture of the bill is as follows: In 1889 a 
statute authorized a Commission of Statutory Revision, whose 
business would be to rearrange, revise, and codify all the laws 
of the State of New York under their proper heads, so that 
out of the existing confusion, which no mere layman and very 
few expert lawyers could penetrate, there might be evolved 
some order, classification, and harmony. So far such a com- 
mission was harmless, for it was only authorized to clean house. 
It could not create anything new ; but in 1893 new and addi- 
tional powers were given to this Commission whereby it was 
made the legal adviser of both houses of legislature as well as 
a standing committee of each. In this capacity it acquired 
reproductive powers. It has been known for some time that 
there has been some close relationship between this Commission 
and the office of the Superintendent of Public Instruction. 

The character of this latter office has been thoroughly in- 
vestigated, and is well known to the public at large. First of all, 
it seems to be possessed very largely by the latter-day idea of 
the omnipotence of education to cure all the ills that human- 
ity is heir to. Education, in its estimation, is like the black 
bottle into which the druggist gathered all the sweepings of 
the prescription table. When one came with a disease that 
could not be diagnosed he gave him a dose from the bottle. 
He was pretty sure something therein would knock out the 
disease. In the minds of many of the educationists of the day 
when religion and philanthropy and charity organization so- 



1 899.] THE NEW EDUCATION BILL. 107 

cieties and Keeley cures have done their utmost to solve the 
social problems and have failed, the only resource left is the 
modern fad of education. However, it is not proper that we 
should find fault with the office of the Superintendent of Public 
Instruction, if it believes in the efficacy of its public instruction, 
nor do we. But we have a right to complain if the Superinten- 
dent should use his office for partisan purposes by discriminating 
against a certain class of citizens. It is well known that Charles 
R. Skinner, the present incumbent of the office, has no love for 
any volunteer forces in the educational world, particularly if 
those forces are Catholic and manifest their energies through 
the system of parochial schools. He is closely in league with 
the men who hatched that infamous conspiracy against the 
freedom of educational facilities at the Constitutional Conven- 
tion. In the old country a man of his stripe would be called 
an Orangeman the country over he is known as a bigot. In 
New York State he is furbished up and known as a " protector 
of American institutions." Since the Constitutional Convention 
he has been devoting a good deal of time and energy in tak- 
ing from the back of the good sisters who have been teaching 
in Poughkeepsie and elsewhere the distinctively religious garb 
they wear. This is Charles R. Skinner. It is well that we 
label him and put him away for future reference. 

But we were saying the fruit of the mesalliance between 
the office of the Superintendent of Public Instruction and the 
Commission on Statutory Revision is this Education Bill. From 
such parentage we are quite prepared to expect a misshapen, 
unprincipled, dangerous thing. 

The bill comes up to our expectation in every regard. Its 
real danger is that if it becomes a law it will take from several 
State officials rights and privileges that are theirs, and place 
the whole authority of the- children in matters of education in 
the hands of an official who we know has no sympathy with 
the most sacred relations we have, and who to-day stands with 
his hand against every Catholic in this State. The bill is a 
" grab-all " for Mr. Skinner's office, and in order to succeed in 
its policy of sequestration it violates many of the fundamental 
principles of our commonwealth. By natural law to educate 
the child is a parental right and responsibility. If the State 
does it at all, it is done by implicit consent of the parents ; it 
having been judged by them to be far more convenient that 
the State take on itself this responsibility because of better 
opportunities and more extended facilities. But while a parent 



io8 THE NEW EDUCATION BILL. [April, 

gives over his child to the State, it is only that the State may 
assist, and this assistance is accepted only in as far as the 
parent wishes, and just in the way the parent desires. A 
parent can never abdicate that inalienable right of educating 
his child. This new Education Bill, fathered by the office of 
the Superintendent of Public Instruction, brushes aside the 
natural law as well as the parental right just as easy as if they 
were some withered flowers that had done service for the pre- 
ceding day. 

The tendency of a good deal of legislation nowadays is to- 
wards the concentration of rights and powers in certain individu- 
als, and it is a dangerous tendency. It often leads to acts of 
tyranny. In any case it savors more of autocratic Russia than 
it does of liberty-loving America. Especially is this the case 
when such individuals are responsible to no one. And more 
particularly is this tendency to be feared when it deals with 
matters which are to us of most vital importance the educa- 
tion of our children. 

Strange to say, too, this bill is not content with assuming 
all right over the secular education of the children of the State, 
but it invades the realm of religious instruction, and it pro- 
vides that " the Bible may be read either as a part of school 
exercises or otherwise." Such reading may be from any ver- 
sion, but must be without note or comment. We have nothing 
against the reading of the Bible, but we are decidedly against 
Protestantizing our public-school system, which is supported by 
the money of all the citizens, and particularly are we against 
the " Protestantization " of our children who by law are com- 
pelled to attend these public, schools. 

It may be said that the mere reading of the Bible is not 
a religious act. Whether that be so or not, it is not so much 
the reading of the Bible that we object to as it is the reader 
of the Bible and the way in which it is read. It is quite 
possible within the limit of this law to turn the public-school 
system into a huge proselytizing institution ; especially is this 
the case when there is an anti-Catholic sitting in the chair of 
the Superintendent of Public Instruction, and when he has in 
his hands the extended powers which this bill endows him 
with. 

There are many other provisions of this new bill which are 
just as worthy of condemnation as the few we have merely 
hinted at. W^e have not gone into them more deeply because 
we desire rather to sound the note of alarm and awaken the 



1899-] THE NEW EDUCATION BILL. 109 

consciences of the Catholics of this State to the dangers that 
lurk beneath the placid exterior of this bill. Already has the 
Committee on Catholic Interests of the Catholic Club, a com- 
mittee that has at a time previous to this done yeoman's ser- 
vice in guarding the civil interests of the Catholic people, 
started its work. It has retained Nelson G. Green, a 'lawyer of 
talent and prestige, to interest himself in the matter. Mr. 
Green, with a number of other gentlemen, appeared before the 
joint Committee on Education at a special hearing on February 
8, 1899. At this hearing Mr. Green had not proceeded very far 
with his address when he was suddenly cut short by the ruling 
of the chair, though he earnestly protested that he was there 
representing the three million Catholics of the State and speak- 
ing in their name. 

He subsequently obtained permission to submit the argu- 
ment and brief in writing. The same has been printed and it 
is a masterly presentation of the rights of the Catholic people 
in the matter of education. All the way through his argument 
is characterized by the lofty tone of the dignified statesman 
as well as by the grasp of principles which belongs to the 
philosopher. Mr. Green comes into the arena as a new cham- 
pion of Catholic rights. He is a convert to the church of some 
few years standing, and is a lawyer who has attained an en- 
viable place in his profession. 




no A SIXTEENTH CENTURY TOWN IN MEXICO. [April, 



A SIXTEENTH CENTURY TOWN IN MEXICO. 

i 

HE name of Tlaxcala will be known to many of 
our readers through the engrossing pages of 
Mr. Prescott's history or romance but it is not 
probable that many of them have any further 
acquaintance with it, for a careful examination 
of the register at the Hotel San Carlos in the town indicated 
a patronage of some twelve guests monthly, and before ours, no 
foreign names had graced its pages. What an excitement in 
the deserted little hostelry at the advent of five living visitors ! 
An intelligent lad appeared promptly, sole occupant of the es- 
tablishment, speedily brought light cots, sheets, and chairs from 
an inner repository, and with them equipped for our entertain- 
ment sundry of the void quadrangular cells which flanked the 
cobble-stoned court with its central well and monastic cloister. 
Our flaxen-haired children provided a gratuitous exhibition for 
the swarthy alumni of the neighboring college, who crowded 
the entrance gateway of the inn much as the denizens of a 
West Virginian mountain settlement might gape on a belated 
party of Sioux braves, should they stray by chance into 
their vicinity in Fenimore Cooperian glory of war paint and 
plumes. 

The hotel, as is often the case in Mexico, is merely a 
maison meuble'e, providing a cellar wherein to repose, but mak- 
ing no provision for the inner man. Recourse was had to the 
hospitable dame, Petra why have we no feminine equivalent 
for Peter in our speech ? who was fairly staggered at the pros- 
pect of victualling such a multitude and they, too, foreigners. 
" Ah, sefior, what do they eat soup ? " " Yes ! " " And eggs ? " 
"Yes!" "And meats?" "Oh, yes, just the same as other 
people. What are your charges for it all?" " What, for break- 
fast, dinner, and supper for five ? Ah, goodness only knows 
quien sabe ? what a lot of people ! " And abandoning this 
abstruse problem in mental arithmetic she left its solution to 
our superior powers of computation. 

But where is this isolated mountain fastness, leading its self- 
contained life remote from the din and turmoil of the outer 
world ? Well, that's the marvel of it, that it is so easily acces- 
sible about an hour by rail from Puebla to Santa Ana, whence 



A SIXTEENTH CENTURY TOWN IN MEXICO. 



1 1 




THE TEMPLE WAS BUILT IN 1521. 

there is a tram-car service four times daily ; and yet the nu- 
merous parties of winter visitors to Mexico habitually neglect 
one of the most interesting spots in the republic. The antiqua- 
rian especially will here revel in romantic visions of the past 
here where every house and site has its memory. Even as, 
crossing the Atoyac River, we enter the suburbs of the decayed 
little city the Church of San Esteban to our right marks the 
spot where at the conquest dwelt that doughty chieftain, 
Tlahuexolotzin, who, if his quiver contained as many arrows as 
his name letters, should have been a formidable antagonist. 
However, his Castilian allies in giving him their faith conferred 
on him a manageable cognomen, and as Seflor Don Gonzalo 
the chief of Tepeticpac could take rank amongst Christian po- 
tentates. 

He was, in fine, baptized with three other magnates, his 
compeers whose names in pity for the compositor we omit to 
transcribe and there in the Casa Municipal, or town-hall, is 
the portrait of these four staunch henchmen of Cortes, whose 
adherence to the becastled banner of the invader rendered the 
temerarious attempt on the crown of Montezuma an audacious 
possibility. It is well that this copy of the original painting 
was made, for it, together with numerous other treasures of 



ii2 A SIXTEENTH CENTURY TOWN IN MEXICO. [April, 



New Spain, being shipped to Europe during the last century 
by a certain Boturini, found a resting place in that capacious 
lumber chest, Davy Jones's locker. What a blessing that their 
baptismal robes were allowed to remain at home, where the 
visitor may behold them hanging in the chamber of archives ! 
Here, too, is the genealogical tree of Xicohtencatl hispanicized 
by the conquerors into plebeian Vincente. If his posterity could 
only dispose of it in an anglican garb to some shoddy aristo- 
crat greedy of ancestral glory he, the enterprising Tlaxcalan, 
might become possessed of silver pesos galore wherewith to en- 
joy nocturnal revelry at the monte table for the residue of a 
lotus-eating existence ! The Yankee, however, who formerly 
strayed into Tlaxcala did u get away " with a valuable relic, 
and in this wise. Amongst the treasures is a magnificent silken 
banner of crimson and gold, bedizened with the lions and .tow- 
ers of Castile and Aragon, which is commonly said to have 
been presented to the Tlaxcalan chieftains by Cortes, a state- 
ment stoutly controverted by the patriotic custodian : " Don't 
you believe it, senor ; they took it from Cortes r " " Well," we 
asked, "why is that large piece missing from the corner of the 




GATHERING IN THE ANCIENT PLAZA. 

banner ? " " Alas, seftor ! " is the reply, " a gringo was once here 
who was looking at the flag and gave the attendant two pesos 
to watch at the window for his friend's arrival in the plaza, 
but, sir, no friend was to be seen ; and shortly after it was 
noticed that a portion of the silk had been cut away." 



1899-] ^ SIXTEENTH CENTURY TOWN IN MEXICO. 113 

Formerly the city hall contained treasures which possessed 
a more general interest than banners and baptismal robes, to 
wit, a store of circular discs of copper, gold, and silver, im- 
pressed with the likeness of his most Catholic Majesty of Spain, 




CURIOUS CUSTOMS OF THE PEOPLE. 

The funds of the state and city of Tlaxcala are now deposited 
in the little bank on the far side of the neglected plaza, but the 
treasure chest may yet be seen, open to all, for the four keys 
which used to fit the four locks, and which were held one each 
by four responsible officials, have ceased to be of value. 

We can only hint at rows of idols unearthed now and 
again ; at marvellous illuminations from Spain ; the grant of arms 
to the city with the signature of Charles V. ; .the city charter 
similarly endorsed by his son Philip, and the like. Here are 
land titles three centuries old, various venerable records of 
local proceedings, and a sort of Tlaxcalan Bayeaux tapestry, 
in which Spaniards and Indians are substituted for the retainers 
of hapless Harold and Norman William. 

Hard by is the parish church, whose pleasing front of red 
and blue tile-work hints at artistic treasures within. The first 
thing noticed on entering is an entablature recording the de- 
struction of the dome by an earthquake a generation ago. 
Doubtless the mischief did not stop there, and the atrocious 
VOL. LXIX. 8 



ii4 ^ SIXTEENTH CENTURY TOWN IN MEXICO. [April, 

frescoing of the nave replaces worthy decorations ruined by the 
shock. In the baptistery is a painting of the baptism of the 
four chiefs, and in the sacristy appears a representation of the 
apparition of Nuestra Senora de Ocotlan, whose famous shrine 
we must visit later on. But in a Mexican church the sagrario 
usually contains some worthy artistic feature, and so is it here : 
opening from the upper nave on the left is a richly gilded 
treasury in the gorgeous fashion of the seventeenth century, 
the painting of Nuestra Senora de la Luz being the gem of 
the collection. Close to the parish church is the Capilla Real, 
so called from its statue of Philip II., whilst on the towers 
are the Spanish arms. But of this ancient fane, built expressly 
for the use of the Indians, no other portion is left standing. 
In fact the question arises, " Why does the town remain at all ? 
what useful purpose does it serve ? " The quondam thriving 
city of forty thousand inhabitants scarce can count a tithe of 
its former numbers ; muster them all from the tumble-down 
adobe hovels and from the decrepit palaces which are grouped 
around in mournful array, and they would make but a scanty 
gathering in their vast wilderness of a plaza. 

Regarded as a quaint monument of a bygone age, however, 
this out-at-elbows village is replete with interest, and the neigh- 
boring Sierra de la Malitzin, resembling at the summit a 
shrouded corpse, suggests an analogy. With what awe did the 
idolaters behold in the wizard's mountain blinding sheets of 
flame, and hear appalling discharges of electrical artillery be- 
fore the advent of the white man ! The anciently fertile val- 
leys which sustained so numerous a population, warlike rivals 
of the Aztec empire, are sterile now ; centuries of extravagant 
farming have impoverished the soil, and thus country harmon- 
izes with town. Such musings are suggested by the aspect of 
the place viewed from the commanding terrace of the old 
Franciscan establishment. A blue-coated, musket-bearing multi- 
tude now occupy the buildings, sharing them with a fraternity 
of public criminals who unwillingly expiate their misdeeds by 
penitential exercises. Below is the bull-ring, and hard by a 
market-place where a few beans and eggs are offered for sale. 
Eventually an aged, key-bearing crone is unearthed, and with 
effort the massive portals of the friars' temple are thrust in- 
wards. What a magnificent high-pitched roof ! supported by a 
forest of cedar, the only one we can recall having happened 
on in this land of vaulted ceilings of masonry. Sundry ancient 
dames took advantage of the open doors to venerate the sacred 



1899-] 



SIXTEENTH CENTURY TOWN IN MEXICO. 




SITUATED IN THE ISOLATED MOUNTAIN FASTNESS. 

places. To us the font in which' the chiefs already noticed 
were baptized, and the first church-pulpit from which a sermon 
was ever preached in the new world, possessed a unique inter- 
est. For our benefit were then produced the original church 
vestments of the city, richly embroidered robes of silk and 
velvet, the colors still fresh and vivid. Curious also is an 
ex-voto painting presented by Zitlalpopoca (one of the four 
worthies), an ancient carved table, images arid screens, and a 
confusion of gilded scroll work. One allegorical representation 
arrested the attention : a triumphal chariot, bearing St. Thomas 
of Aquin with piles of weighty tomqs, passing triumphantly 
over the prostrate forms of Calvin, Luther, Beza, and other 
sixteenth century malcontents. This temple was built before 
they attracted notice, dating, so they say, from 1521. The 
gray-frocked followers of the saint of Assisi dwelt here for over 
three centuries. Their only present chance of gaining lodg- 
ment in their former abode is, possibly, to be ensconced in their 
ancient cells cheek by jowl with brawlers, pilferers, and high- 
waymen. 

But no Mexican town is without its pious tradition, and 
Tlaxcala in this matter stands in the first rank. Shortly after 
the conquest, a fatal pestilence prevailing, one Juan Diego be- 
stirred himself to aid his afflicted fellows. Being at the river 



n6 A SIXTEENTH CENTUKY TOWN IN MEXICO. [April, 

to draw water for the sick, the Blessed Virgin appeared to 
him, directing him to a grove of pine-trees or ocotes, containing 
a spring whose waters would not only relieve the sufferings 
but heal the ills of the fever-stricken patients. Also she said 
that near the spring he would find her image. All happened 
as our Lady promised, and over the spring, which burst forth 
from the roots of a large ocote, th'e grateful population raised 
a dome which still remains, its walls abundantly decorated 
by graffiti for the scribbling custom prevails even in remote 
Tlaxcala. The waters from this source flow rapidly between 
the precipitous, tree-clad banks of a lovely glen, and a wealth 




HIGHER UP WE CAME TO THE PILGRIMAGE CHURCH. 



1899-] A SIXTEENTH CENTURY TOWN IN MEXICO. 117 

of brilliant wild-flowers accentuates the beauty of this refresh- 
ing oasis amid these niggard wildernesses, the venerable stream, 
moreover, meeting utilitarian necessities and furnishing motive 
power for a flour-mill. 

Higher up we came on the pilgrimage church of Our Lady 
of Ocotlan, where the miraculous image is preserved above the 
high altar. The facade of brilliant white and red forms a 
landmark, crowning as it does the crest of a considerable emi- 
nence. This is attained by one of the penitential cobble-stone 
roads which for some occult cause the Mexicans are so en- 
amored of, but the pedestrian has the privilege of diverging on- 
to the rock-strewn hill-side, which is preferable. By the church 
cluster a group of adobe dwellings, a store, and a school, whilst 
the ample dimensions of the adjacent presbytery suggest a large 
concourse of clergy and dignitaries for the annual celebration 
on the 3d of May. The nave is uninteresting enough, having 
been restored by a worthy but unaesthetic lady during the 
present generation, and a number of Scriptural texts on the 
walls form its most noteworthy adornment. The camarin, or 
chamber, behind the main altar is, however, a repository of 
treasures of considerable antiquity and rare merit, amidst which 
one would willingly linger for hours. There is grouped to- 
gether in charming confusion a unique bewilderment of aesthetic 
delight, carvings and paintings, ebony and ivory, gilding and 
the choicest marquetry, whilst in one of the passages was dis- 
covered the only well-executed ex-voto painting yet found in 
the republic a masterly portrayal in water-colors of the peril 
from which a horseman is persuaded that he was supernaturally 
freed. The sanctuary of Ocotlan is the gem of price of this 
most fascinating of bucolic capitals, and gazing on the cluster 
of towers, domes, and house-tops from the porch of this worthy 
temple of Mary we cannot but envy the hand-to-mouth con- 
tentment of its simple inhabitants, parted from the gaieties 
of giddy Mexico by heaven-seeking snow-clad altitudes, and 
separated from this faith-lacking age by yet more trustworthy 
barriers. 




THE Novel generally has a distinct purpose in 
England. Over there, when one has something 
very serious to say in his day and generation, he 
conceives a story and makes his characters speak 
his thoughts. If he can leave his purpose some- 
what vague, so as to lead the intellectual world to discuss what 
his real meaning is, he will have accomplished his purpose the 
more effectually. Dr. William Barry may or may not have had 
some such end in view when he published The Two Standards* 
It is nevertheless a fact that some readers have seen in it a 
deep-seated meaning, and have taken his characters for types 
of modern life and their statements as indications of the move- 
ments of modern society, while others see but a well-constructed 
story with nondescript people living an aimless life. Dr. Barry 
is one of the great thinkers in our English intellectual world, 
and we are inclined to believe that he would not spend his 
time merely " spinning yarns." 

The Two Standards is a book of much more value and com- 
prehensiveness than his last production, The New Antigone. At 
present we can but give the story of the book. We give it, 
however, with the hope of having in the future a more appre- 
ciative criticism. 

The book opens with the scene of the heroine, Marian 
Greystoke, writing in her diary some of the moods of feeling 
that are passing through her soul. Hers is a dangerous nature 
craving liberty from the restraints of home. She is one of three 
poor daughters of an aristocratic but poor vicar of the little 
town of Rylsford. Her mother is virtuous but strict and nar- 
row. Marian reads deeply and well the philosophy of St. Simon 
and books which she finds stuffed away in an old attic of the 
house. Her sister's lover proposes to her, but he is tame, poor, 
and without passion. She refuses him he does not appeal to 
her. She runs away to London and for protection lives with a 

* The Two Standards : An International Romance. By Rev. William Barry, D.D., au- 
thor of The New Antigone. Union Square, New York : The Century Co. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 119 

woman doctor. Here she meets a woman named Harland, who 
has a brother of immense wealth. He has a country house, 
where she is invited. She sings at one of his receptions ; she 
does it so as to prove the breadth of her genius. She resolves 
to become an actress. Harland is smitten and proposes mar- 
riage. The rejected suitor, Latimer, learns of it, and is so vio- 
lent that she strives to leave Harland. Her worthless father, 
however, prevails upon her and she becomes Mrs. Harland. Lati- 
mer, through jealousy, resolves to ruin her husband financially. 

She comes up to London, makes a stir in society, and as a 
student studies much of the vice of the world. She is sud- 
denly estranged from her husband by finding a mass of pas- 
sionate love-letters written to him by an Italian actress, La 
Farfalla. So husband and wife separate. 

Alone in the world, she meets a musical genius, Gerard El- 
ven. Appreciation ripens into admiration ; admiration becomes 
mutual and gives birth to love, until in an unguarded moment 
of passion they resolve to risk their reputations by travelling 
together on an operatic tour to America. On the brink of dis- 
grace a priest the brother of Gerard steps in and purifies the 
moral atmosphere. He is keenly alive to the disastrous situa- 
tion. He has known something of the world, having in his 
early life desired and sought the affection of a married woman 
by killing her husband in a duel. 

Marian conquers her temptation, and sails for America under 
the name of Mademoiselle Jasmin. Then Father Rudolph takes 
his brother to a monastery in Wales, where the musician studies 
the meditation of " The Two Standards " in the Exercises of 
St. Ignatius. 

While on a singing tour in Chicago Mademoiselle Jasmin 
learns that Latimer has ruined Harland financially. Harland is 
tried and sentenced for his unscrupulous methods of specula- 
tion. He attempts suicide ; then is released from prison, a 
moral and physical wreck. His wife flees to his bedside, but 
he does not know her ; in his delirium, however, he craves her 
presence. Then in a lucid interval, having regained full con- 
sciousness, he bequeaths her to her lover, Gerard Elven ; then 
he dies. 

Espiritu Santo* is the name of a young Spanish maiden 
whom Henrietta Dana Skinner makes the heroine of a very 
sweet and pleasing story, full of bright, wholesome descriptions 

* Espiritu Santo: a Novel. By Henrietta Dana Skinner. New York and London: 
Harper & Brothers. 



120 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April, 

of family life and the loves and sorrows of kindred souls. 
The characters she has chosen are a little group of Spanish, 
Italian and English artists of the musical profession who are 
drawn together in a small colony in Paris by the magnetism of 
sympathetic tastes and temperament. Indeed, while this similar- 
ity of sympathy between her characters at first pleases the 
reader and warms him towards the subjects and their pursuits, 
it presently becomes somewhat wearisome and he longs for the 
spice of a little variety, a little greater contrast, even for the taste 
of a little friction in the general harmony that prevails among 
these kindred spirits. The author, however, does not seem to 
have the heart to keep up the tradition as to the course of 
true love, and the little deviations she makes in it now and 
then make one feel rather as though one were playing the 
children's game of hide-and-seek, or taking the part of the 
blind man in blind-man's-buff. 

She has conceived a scheme for her novel on which might 
be built a very noble story, but her main execution of it is 
weak, and while she has created some splendid parts the com- 
plete work lacks dignity. It is rather trifling with the reader's 
imagination or " fooling " it to work it up, as she has done in 
the description of Adriano's conversion, to the point of being 
prepared for a grand move on the part of Adriano, nothing 
less indeed than the renouncement of his magnificent success 
and his splendid worldly position for the life of the cloister. It 
seems to be the evident purpose of the writer to create this 
idea in the mind of the reader in order to give him another 
surprise by making Adriano turn about almost the next moment 
and flippantly discuss with himself or his valet the shade of hair 
and eyes of a future possible wife. Perhaps we miss the true 
inwardness of Miss Skinner's meaning in putting her hero through 
a change of heart and soul that would drive an ordinary man 
into a cloister (even if he didn't stay there), and she wants to 
show us that such a change would be no less becoming in one 
who, having sown his wild oats, would prepare himself to be a 
fitting partner in life to a pure-hearted woman. We can for- 
give her for the disappointment if this is her meaning, but one's 
imagination feels tricked just the same, although this seems to 
be the favorite business of the story-teller. 

Espiritu Santo is a' character as sweet as her name, which, 
by the way, reveals another exquisite little custom among the 
Spanish : that of naming a child after a religious devotion, or 
a feast day, or anything lovely in religion, if the child happens 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 121 

to be born on a day connected with such. Espiritu was born 
on the feast of Pentecost, and the child's life throughout seemed 
as a mission of peace and love and inspiration. In the closing 
chapters of the book this mission is exalted to the highest 
pitch of ideality in the deeply touching death of Espiritu and 
her young lover Theodore, a very Angel Gabriel in character. 
If the story were about one-half as long as it is, or if the mid- 
dle part of it, with its interminable descriptions of opera re- 
hearsals and musical performances, were left out, we should 
have had a really exquisite story. 

Assuredly, variety has been consulted in the selection of 
subjects made by the author of Three Studies* Francis Jeffrey, 
John Henry Newman, and Matthew Arnold afford full oppor- 
tunity for the display of different subject-matter and greatly 
varied treatment of the same. Let us say that the variation is 
but from one bit of skilful and delicate workmanship to an- 
other. Their reading will recall to us what we learned so long 
ago, that each advance in study means growth in appreciative 
power, and that the trained litterateur is as specially favored in 
his enjoyment of good reading as is the master of music to 
whose ear a symphony is rich in beauties, suggestions, and revela- 
tions, that escape the novice, no matter how music-loving. 

In the sketch of Newman we fancy the writer is almost ex- 
cessively professional and analytical, discovering conscious 
elaboration and deliberate attempt in many a grace that proba- 
bly sprang full-grown from its maker's brain. There is deep 
analysis that commends itself as true, and warm admiration, 
fervent and manly ; but withal we suppose, as being merely 
literary for the nonce, Mr. Gates could assume no other rdle a 
lack. For no word is given no trace of sympathy as to what 
is so largely in evidence through every written line of New- 
man of his soul and its feelings. Perhaps our comment is hyper- 
critical, but this divinity is so sacred to us, that we shudder to 
have him handled by a mere litterateur, even though the 
handling be done artistically well. 

In dealing with Arnold, the writer gets more in touch with 
his subject, brings out the ensemble of a high-grade, many-sided, 
rather uneven soul with such deftness and kindly sympathy 
as to give great help to students. And in the study on Jef- 
frey we find a painstaking and successful representation of a 

* Three Studies in Literature. By Lewis E. Gates. New York: The Macmillan Com- 
pany. 



122 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April, 

brilliant, argumentative literary critic, sovereign in his own day, 
and now nearly forgotten. On the whole, the reading of our 
book makes us hope for more studies in literature from the 
graceful and smooth-running pen of the writer. 

The first volume of lectures that are to become a perpetual 
foundation in Harvard University is a memorial to the late 
William Belden Noble, a devoted disciple of Phillips Brooks. 
William Noble is known to have shared the religious views, 
deep earnestness, and spiritual enthusiasm of his master, and 
the tribute thus paid his memory is a fitting one. The present 
series of lectures* consists of six commentaries on the message 
of Christ to mankind under various aspects. Dignified utter- 
ance and high moral tone mark each contribution, and they 
will doubtless serve a great end if they stir the young men for 
whom they are intended to strive for development of an inner 
spiritual existence. But they contain nothing very remarkable 
or original in fact seem at times superficial and disappointing. 
It is rather unusual to read any modern contributions to spir- 
itual literature without reflecting that individual writers, be 
they never so learned, so earnest, so religious, cannot possibly 
offer suitable substitutes for that rich and lovely heritage of 
saintly science that lasts and grows from age to age in the 
church of the centuries. 

Emerson was right when he pictured Emanuel Swedenborg 
as one of the most remarkable men of his century. It was 
grotesquely absurd that an essay on Swedenborg should repre- 
sent him as the Mystic, in the same sense that Shakspere was 
the Poet, or Plato the Philosopher ; and the vagueness and 
shallowness of Emerson's " religion " never presses upon us 
more sharply and painfully than when we read what he con- 
sidered to be a list of typical mystics : Socrates, Plotinus, Por- 
phyry, Behmen, Bunyan, Fox, Pascal, Guyon, Swedenborg. 

The bookf we notice now is a popular unfolding of ideas 
that Swedenborg stood for sweet, comforting, sublime, enno- 
bling many of them. But the short-sighted critic who thinks, 
as Emerson, that such are a surprise and a revelation to the 
" withered, traditional church," is babbling of great truths 

* The Message of Christ to Manhood. By Rev. Alexander V. G. Allen, D.D., Rev. 
Francis G. Peabody, Rev. Theodore T. Munger, D.D., Rev. William DeW. Hyde, D.D., Rev. 
Henry Van Dyke, D.D., Right Rev. Henry C. Potter, D.D. Boston and New York : Hough- 
ton, Mifflin & Co. 

\ God Winning Us. By Rev. Clarence Lathbury. Germantown, Pa.: Swedenborg Pub- 
lishing Association. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 123 

whose names he cannot spell. Ah ! thrice true, thrice sweet, 
thrice certain is the teaching that comes to us in the guise of 
dogmatic instruction, stately, dignified, tested by its centuries 
of history and its endless succession of marvellous accomplish- 
ments in the souls of men and women whose names are un- 
known at Concord. The Fathers of the Desert they are lesser 
lights to Emerson. The Imitation, perhaps, is easy of compre- 
hension, and not rich in sublime mysticism. St. Teresa and 
St. John of the Cross are shallow or narrow, may be, and Eman- 
uel Swedenborg, learned, scientific, saintly, is type of that caste 
that reigns in the Divine Kingdom. 

No, indeed! Most of the new volume is healthy, elevated, 
instructive reading, and it may help certain minds to spiritual 
progress, but it is partial and one-sided, and but as the sound 
of a crying infant, when contrasted with what has already been 
spoken to him that hath ears to hear. 

This last century has been a day of transformation in the 
English Church, and that day's story has been matter for 
volumes almost innumerable. The new one that has come to 
us lately is a welcome contribution.* 

The student of history who has realized that almost every- 
where the eighteenth century was a period of depression, will 
note especially the decadence of English letters, statesmanship, 
and military power ; but what will without doubt seem equally 
remarkable is the degenerate condition of religion and church- 
men throughout the Establishment generally at the beginning 
of the current century. It was into this sort of world that 
Newman, Pusey, Keble, Arnold, Wilberforce, and their peers 
were introduced, to rouse their generation into unexpected 
vigor and produce lasting transformations in existing order. 

Of course their stories have been chronicled, each at length, 
and it is impossible to find complete information upon so many 
persons and subjects in any single volume. But Mr. Rogers' 
collection of studies on some dozen of the most prominent 
men in the Church of England during this century possesses 
real value, and will prove a serviceable guide to those who de- 
sire accurate sketches, fairly and artistically drawn, with im- 
partial handling of well-digested information. The book is 
clearly, admirably written, conceived in a spirit of thorough 
fairness, and is to be commended heartily. That the writer's 

* Men and Movements in the English Church. By Arthur Rogers. New York : Long- 
mans, Green & Co. 



124 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April, 

sketch of Newman should give evidence of comprehensive ap- 
preciation of that " character divine " is certainly not to be 
expected only a Catholic could do that ; but his reverent, 
affectionate treatment of a lost friend satisfies and pleases us. 
Pusey and Keble the writer naturally appreciates at more 
advantage, and portrays more sympathetically. Church, Kings- 
ley, Maurice, and the rest are presented in detail sufficient for 
the general reader's purpose, and will introduce him to a circle 
of accomplished and entertaining writers if he has been unac- 
quainted with them hitherto. 



I. CHRISTIANITY OR AGNOSTICISM.* 

The Abbe" Picard is a French ecclesiastic who in every sense 
is thoroughly awake to the needs of the church in France. It 
would be good if a like statement could be made of all the 
French clergy. As a body they represent a great deal of learn- 
ing and virtue, but to some extent they are apart from the 
world and not in touch with its aspirations. There is no one 
for whom we have greater admiration than the old professor 
who has grown gray in his association with books, who has spent 
his days in assimilating vast stores of learning until he has be- 
come an animated encyclopaedia, but such a one is very wise 
to remain far from the practical administration of the church. 
The church in her practical administration of affairs has to do 
with hearts that are full of passion, living and throbbing with 
every-day impulses, and to touch such hearts or to mould 
their impulses in accordance with the divine law requires con- 
summate tact. It is not the fossilized book-worm whom we 
would chose for the office, but a man of affairs who can 
speak to the age in its own language. 

It is twenty years and more since the system of secularized 
education has come into vogue in France, and the generation 
which has grown up under its influence is more or less weak in 
its faith. The young men are easily caught by the polished sen- 
tences and fascinating thoughts of the modern pagans, and unless 
their faith is placed on a rational basis they are easily led away 
from their anchorage in the truth. The Abbe" Picard has ap- 
preciated this danger, and in this goodly volume of six hundred 
pages he presents in a most attractive way the reasons for the 
Christian Faith as against the apostles of unbelief. In the first 

* Christianity or Agnosticism. By the Abbe Louis Picard. Authorized translation 
Revised by the Rev. J. G. Macleod, S.J. London: Sands & Co.; New York: Benziger 
Brothers. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 125 

part he treats of Spiritualism, or the supernatural, and as against 
those who deny that there is anything beyond matter or above 
the skies. His reasoning is put into good form and has a crisp- 
ness about it that savors more of the business mart than of the 
musty book-shelf. He discusses, too, many of the later questions 
of anthropology and biology. His second part is " Christianity," 
in which Jesus and His Religion, the Authenticity and Inter- 
pretation of the Scriptures, the Church as against the Churches, 
are admirably treated. 

It is good to see that books of this kind, in which these 
vital questions are handled in such an up-to-date manner, are 
already appearing in France both as the product of and the 
auxiliary to the religious revival among the intellectual classes. 
There have been times in the history of the French Church 
when imprudent obscurantists have crushed a healthful renais- 
sance because it was not in accord with the ways of doing 
when they were young, while if, on the other hand, they had 
the tact to direct and to guide such awakening, it would ulti- 
mately have contributed to the glory of God and the welfare 
of the church. 

Right glorious is this stirring among the young French 
minds, and such books as Abbe" Picard's will assist it and lead 
it on to greater triumphs. 

Father Macleod, S.J., has done the English-speaking world a 
service by putting Abbe" Picard's work within its reach. 

2. ST. EDMUND OF CANTERBURY.* 

The better we become acquainted with those who by their 
unselfish devotion to Almighty God and Holy Church defended 
the faith, the more we are compelled to admire their sterling 
qualities, and the more we are inclined to emulate, so far as 
we may, the noble example of their lives. The early English 
Church produced many such men. How contradictory were the 
characteristics that seemed to make up their being : studious, 
devoted men shrinking from everything savoring of publicity, 
yet how grandly they sprang into their places, firm and fearless 
like the prophet of old, ready to say " Thou art the man," even 
though it were the king on his throne ! Such a man was the 
son of Reynald Rich St. Edmund of Abingdon, Archbishop of 
Canterbury. He was born near the close of the twelfth cen- 
tury, and educated at Oxford and Paris. 

* Life of St. Edmund of Abingdon, Archbishop of Canterbury. By Frances de Paravin- 
cini. New York : Benziger Brothers. 



126 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April, 

Too often the tendency of the biographer is to incorporate 
in his work much that is hearsay evidence. Frances de Para- 
vincini has given to the public a book that is comparatively free 
from such evidence. In the preface she states the feeling that 
decided her method of procedure : " I felt strongly that the 
actual statements of contemporary writers in most cases men 
who knew St. Edmund intimately would add greatly to the 
value of this book." 

Following this sentiment she consulted original manuscripts, 
and by means of the " deadly parallel " she forces the ancient 
records to prove her statement. The careful research evident 
from a perusal of the introductory pages is the best assurance 
of the historical accuracy of the biography. The author por- 
trays somewhat fully the conditions existent in England in the 
first part of the thirteenth century. She thus wisely associates 
the man and the times, recognizing that each is the standard by 
means of which the other must be judged, if judged fairly. 

In the first part of the chapter which describes St. Ed- 
mund's appointment as treasurer of the cathedral at Salisbury, 
a somewhat irrelevant though very delightful sketch of old 
English cathedrals and English saints is given. For this irrele- 
vancy the author pleads that the bypaths to which she has 
been attracted in her endeavor to realize the wider background 
of our saint's life will be as full of interest to her readers as 
they were to herself. 

This book, considered in every way, is a valuable contribu- 
tion to Catholic history. 



3. HISTORIC NUNS.* 

In the present day to write of people as they were too 
often consigns the work to the back shelves of both salesroom 
and library. Wkat a blessing it would be if many of the ac- 
tive writers of fiction were to turn their facile pens to the 
work of presenting characters as they really are, not as their 
imagination makes them. The world has produced real men 
and women who have proven their value and worth for the 
people's good. Bessie R. Belloc, in Historic Nuns, presents to 
the world a volume of condensed verbal portraits of women 
who have done much for the world's betterment. She has 
selected as types of valiant women Mary Aikenhead and Cathe- 
rine McAuley, Madame Duchesne and Mother Seton. It would 

* Historic Nuns. By Bessie R. Belloc. New York : Benziger Brothers. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 127 

be hard to select four other women whose works have left a 
deeper impress on the church among English-speaking people 
than these. They were all founders of religious communities. In 
every religious community some one is selected, because of some 
intimate association with the subject to be portrayed, to write the 
full story of that life, its experiences and labors. Into this well- 
ploughed field the author enters, realizing fully, as she states, 
her presumption in touching the same themes. But with the 
knowledge that humbler pens may be useful in shedding light 
upon the characters, giving due credit to the sources of her 
information as well as to their inestimable value, she seeks in 
this volume to gratify the natural desire for a connected picture 
or an abridged and compacted story of these devoted nuns. 

She seeks in the artistic condensation to more vividly pre- 
sent the salient points of their life story. The incidents and 
the anecdotes in the lives of these noble and devoted women 
judiciously selected by the author only intensify the conclu- 
sions at which she arrives. 

Owing to the popular demand for condensation the value 
of this book is in its compactness, enabling the reader to easily 
obtain the important characteristics and incidents in the won- 
derful lives of these devoted women. As we read these pages 
we must conclude, with the author, that "the imagination of 
man cannot create anything so vivid as the unpremeditated re- 
velation of man himself." 



4. THE MASS BOOK.* 

There is undoubtedly an urgent demand for a handy, com- 
pact, cheap and at the same time comprehensive prayer-book 
for the masses of the people. Of making many prayer-books 
there is no end, but most of the devotional manuals on the 
market to-day are lacking in good taste in their get up, stilted 
in their style, and so high priced as to place them beyond the 
ability of the ordinary church-goer to possess them. The result 
is that half the people who go to Mass go without any prayer- 
book. The Catholic Book Exchange is putting before the pub- 
lic a prayer-book which it calls by the plain old Saxon name of 
THE MASS BOOK, which has all that any Catholic needs in his 
devotional life and much more that is useful by way of explana- 
tion of essential Catholic doctrine and practice. It sells at 
the convenient price of five cents. 

* The Mass Book. Together with Prayers useful in Catholic Devotion and Explanations 
of Catholic Doctrine. Catholic Book Exchange, 120 West 6oth St., New York. 




IT will be an untoward state of affairs if the 
Holy Father is excluded from the Peace Congress 
when it assembles. Italy is evidently afraid that 
his representative will reopen the Roman Question. The wisest 
statesmen of the century have declared that there is no hope 
for continuous and lasting peace in Europe without an equit- 
able settlement of the rights of him who represents the God of 
Peace. 



No man has done so much to make the Peace Congress a 
reality as the Pope. The enlightened policy that he has always 
voiced, as well as the fact that he wields the greatest authority 
in Europe without the backing of an army, has done more to 
demonstrate the feasibility of the ends proposed by the Congress 
than any other one thing. To bar Leo's representative from 
the Congress is to invite defeat. 



The Holy Father's marvellous vitality has again demon- 
strated itself. He has said that he not only hopes but that he 
will live the century through. Such statements from one so 
near the veil may be taken very nearly in the exact mean- 
ing of the words used. 



A commission headed by Cardinal Richard has been appoint- 
ed to gather material for the Paris Exposition demonstrating 
the wonderful advancement made by the church during the 
nineteenth century. The commission ought not to confine its 
investigations to Les Missions Etrangeres, but it would be 
quite proper to learn something of the quantity and quality 
of the Catholicity that is prevalent in the United States. 
Many French ecclesiastics can learn a little more of this to 
their own profit. 



1899-] CATHOLICS IN THE ARMY AND THE NAVY. 129 



CATHOLIC OFFICERS IN THE ARMY AND THE 

NAVY. 



CAPTAIN JOHN E. McMAHON, U.S.A. 

Captain McMahon is the son of a soldier and belongs to a 
military family. His father, Colonel John E. McMahon, was 
colonel of the 1 55th and afterwards of the i64th N. Y. V., 
and died in command of his regiment in the third year of the 
Civil War. Admiral Ramsay, who married his father's eldest 
sister, served with distinction during the Civil War, and is now 
represented in the service of his country by his son, Martin 
McMahon Ramsay, U.S.N. An uncle, Colonel James Powers 
McMahon, who had just been admitted to the bar at the out- 
break of the war, joined his eldest brother as lieutenant-colonel 
of the I55th, and succeeded him in the command of the i64th. 
He led the Corcoran Legion at the battle of Cold Harbor, and 
after the wounding of General Tyler, while planting his flag on 
the enemy's works, fell riddled with bullets. The death of the 
gallant officer is thus described in a long poem by David Gray, 
called " How the Young Colonel Died," from which we give the 
following extracts : 

"You want to hear me tell how the young colonel died? 
God help me ! memory will not fail on that, nor tongue be tied ; 
Ay ! write it down and print it in your biggest types of gold, 
For sure a braver heart than his no mortal breast could hold. 



We charged at dawn ; the colonel led green Erin's old brigade ; 
'Twas Longstreet's blazing cannon behind their breast-works 

played ; 

We charged till, full in front, we felt their fiery breaker-swell 
A sea of rattling muskets in a storm of grape and shell ! 
The colonel led in fire and smoke his sword would wave and 

shine, 
And still the brave sound of his voice led on the struggling 

line ; 
VOL. LXIX. 9j 



130 CATHOLIC OFFICERS IN [April, 

As o'er the surf at Wicklow I've seen the sea-gull fly, 

His voice sailed e'en above the storm and sounded clear and 

high. 

Then all at once our colors sank, I saw them reel and nod ; 
The colonel sprang and took them before they touched the sod. 
Another spring, and with a shout the Rebs will mind it well 
He stood alone upon their works, waved the old flag and fell! 

>**.... 

'Twas vain to stand up longer; what could they do but yield? 
Our broken remnant melted back across the bloody field. 
I stayed to help the colonel, and crept to where he lay ; 
A smile came tender o'er his face, but he motioned me away. 
* I'm torn to pieces, George,' he said. ' Go, save yourself, 

good-night ! ' 

As tender as my mother's that smile came up and shone 
Once more upon his marble face, and the gallant soul was 

gone ! " 

Another uncle, General Martin T. McMahon, now judge of 
the Court of General Sessions, served to the end of the war 
in the Sixth Corps. A brother officer describing his own mess, 
of which the judge was a member, says : " McMahon soon be- 
came my idol. Born of Irish ancestry, and wonderfully edu- 
cated by the Jesuits, of high and chivalrous aims, he was the 
Chevalier Bayard of the corps, and wherever one of the Sixth 
Corps dwells, does he not remember and love McMahon?" 

The three brothers were educated with the Jesuits. Captain 
McMahon also had the benefit of their training ; he was sent 
by his uncle, the judge, to St. John's, Fordham, where he kept 
up the family reputation for manliness and scholarship, being 
one of the best base-ball players and the leader in his classes, 
winning at graduation the gold medal for the best essay. He 
displayed at an early age, together with the tastes of a student, 
a fondness for military life which was a great grief to his 
mother, for he was her only son and she was a widow. In 
vain did she keep his father's sword and all his military relics 
concealed from him, hoping he might be persuaded to follow 
the more peaceful, or rather less dangerous, profession of law. 
At twelve his favorite book was Casey's Tactics, and he com- 
manded as captain a very creditable company which he raised 
among his playmates. His uncle's friend, General Anson G. 

* Following the Greek Cross ; or, Memories of the Sixth Army Corps. By General 
Thomas W. Hyde. 



1 899.] 



THE ARMY AND THE NAVY. 




CAPTAIN JOHN E. MCMAHON, U. S. A. 

McCook, one of the "fighting McCooks," gave him a West 
Point appointment. The year of his graduation he was within 
one of " the first five " in his class when an accident in the 
riding hall sent him to the hospital, and caused him to drop 
to No. ii. After graduation he was assigned to the Fourth 
Artillery, .at Fort Adams, Newport, R. I. Here he married 
Miss Caroline Bache, daughter of Dr. Dallas Bache, U.S.A., 
a lineal descendant of Benjamin Franklin. His next station 



132 CATHOLICS IN THE ARMY AND THE NAVY. [April, 

was Fortress Monroe ; from here he went to West Point as 
instructor in Spanish and French. From West Point he was 
transferred to the department of Arizona, where he served four 
years on the staff of General Alexander McDowell McCook. 
At the outbreak of the war he was at Fortress Monroe pre- 
paring guns for active service. Hearing that his battery was not 
going to the front, he succeeded in having himself transferred 
to one of the volunteer regiments preparing to embark for 
Santiago. He was appointed captain and assistant adjutant- 
general, and served with General Carpenter. When the general 
was ordered to Cuba after the war in command of the First 
Cavalry Brigade, and made military governor of the province 
of Puerto Principe, he asked for Captain McMahon again, and 
he is now serving at Puerto Principe as adjutant-general and 
military secretary of the governor. The governor, being a 
non-Catholic, does not, like his predecessors, go in state to 
Mass on Sunday. Captain McMahon, however, is regarded in 
the church as his representative and occupies on feast days, 
according to the custom of the country, a post of honor in the 
sanctuary. He has always been most popular at all his posts, 
and has the record of great fidelity to his duties and an ex- 
emplary Catholic. 



1 899.] LEO XIII. ON " AMERICANISM." 133 



LEO XIII. ON "AMERICANISM." 

THE following is the official translation of the original text of the letter sent 
by the Holy Father to his Eminence Cardinal Gibbons: 

Most Eminent and Reverend Lord Cardinal: 

In a former letter of last October I had the honor to make known to your 
Eminence that the Holy Father intended to address in due course of time a pon- 
tifical letter concerning " Americanism," so called. It now devolves upon me to 
remit to you a copy of the promised letter, advising you at the same time that 
other copies will be forwarded to you through Monsignor the Apostolic Delegate. 

I profit by the present opportunity to renew the expression of my profound 
veneration. Kissing your hands, I am your humble servant, 

M. CARDINAL RAMPOLLA. 
Rome, January ji, 1899. 

Pope Leo's letter is as follows: 

To our Beloved Son, James Cardinal Gibbons, Cardinal Priest of the Title 
Sancta Maria, beyond the Tiber, Archbishop of Baltimore : 
LEO XIII., POPE Beloved Son, Health and Apostolic Blessing. We send 
to you by this letter a renewed expression of that good will which we have not 
failed during the course of our pontificate to manifest frequently to you and to 
your colleagues in the Episcopate and to the whole^ American people, availing 
ourselves of every opportunity offered us by the progress of your Church or 
whatever you have done for safeguarding and promoting Catholic interests. 
Moreover, we have often considered and admired the noble gifts of your nation, 
which enable the American people to be alive to every good work which pro- 
motes the good of humanity and the splendor of civilization. Although this 
letter be not intended, as preceding ones, to repeat the words of praise so often 
spoken, but rather to call attention to some things to be avoided and corrected, 
still because it is conceived in that same spirit of apostolic charily which has 
inspired all our letters, we shall expect that you will take it as another proof of 
our love ; the more so because it is intended to suppress certain contentions which 
have arisen lately among you to the detriment of the peace of many souls. 

It is known to you, beloved son, that the book on the life of Isaac Thomas 
Hecker, owing chiefly to the efforts of those who undertook to publish and inter- 
pret it in a foreign tongue, has excited serious controversies by introducing cer- 
tain opinions on a Christian manner of life.* 

We, therefore, on account of our apostolic office, having to guard the in- 
tegrity of the faith and the security of the faithful, are desirous of writing to you 
more at length concerning this whole matter. 

The underlying principle of these new opinions is that, in order to more 
easily attract those who differ from her, the Church should shape her teachings 
more in accord with the spirit of the age and relax some of her ancient severity 
and make some concessions to new opinions. Many think that these conces- 
sions should be made not only in regard to matters of discipline, but of doctrines 

* Messenger translation. 



134 LEO XIII. ON "AMERICANISM." [Aplil, 

in which is contained the "deposit of faith." They contend that it would be 
opportune, in order to gain those who differ from us, to omit certain points 
of her teaching which are of lesser importance, and so to tone them down that 
they do not bear the same sense that the Church has constantly given them. 
It does not need many words, beloved son, to prove the falsity of these ideas 
if the nature and origin of the doctrine which the Church proposes are recalled 
to mind. The Vatican Council says concerning .this point : " For the doctrine of 
faith which God has revealed has not been proposed, like a philosophical inven- 
tion, to be perfected by human ingenuity, but has been delivered as a divine de- 
posit to the spouse of Christ to be faithfully kept and infallibly declared. 
Hence that meaning of the sacred dogmas is perpetually to be retained which 
our Holy Mother, the Church, has once declared, nor is that meaning ever to 
be departed from under the pretence or pretext of a deeper comprehension of 
them." (Constitutio de Fide Catholica, chapter /z/.) 

We cannot consider as altogether blameless the silence which purposely 
leads to the omission or neglect of some of the principles of Christian doctrine, 
for all the principles come from the same Author and Master," the only begotten 
Son, who is in the bosom of the Father." (John i. 18.) They are adapted to 
all times and all nations, as is clearly seen from the words of our Lord to his 
apostles : " Going, therefore, teach all nations ; teaching them to observe all 
things whatsoever I have commanded you, and behold, I am with you all days, 
even to the end of the world." {Matt, xxviii. /p.) Concerning this point the 
Vatican Council says : " All those things are to be believed with divine and Cath- 
olic faith which are contained in the Word of God, written or handed down, and 
which the Church, either by a solemn judgment or by her ordinary and univer- 
sal magisterium, proposes for belief as having been divinely revealed." (Const, 
de fide, chapter />/'.) 

Let it be far from any one's mind to lessen or to suppress, for any reason, any 
doctrine that has been handed down. Such a policy would tend rather to separate 
Catholics from the Church than to bring in those who differ. There is nothing 
closer to our heart than to have those who are separated from the fold of Christ 
return to it, but in no other way than the way pointed out by Christ. 

The rule of life laid down for Catholics is not of such a nature that it can- 
not accommodate itself to the exigencies of various times and places. The 
Church has, guided by her Divine Master, a kind and merciful spirit, for which 
reason from the very beginning she has been what St. Paul said of himself: VI 
became all things to all men that I might save all." 

History proves clearly that the Apostolic See, to which has been entrusted 
the mission not only of teaching, but of governing the whole Church, has con- 
tinued " in one and the same doctrine, one and the same sense, and one and the 
same judgment." (Const, de fide, chapter zv.) 

But in regard to ways of living she has been accustomed so to moderate 
her discipline that, the divine principle of morals being kept intact, she has 
never neglected to accommodate herself to the character and genius of the 
nations which she embraces. 

Who can doubt that she will act in this same spirit again if the salvation of 
souls requires it ? In this matter the Church must be the judge, not private men, 
who are often deceived by the appearance of right. In this, all who wish to es- 
cape the blame of our predecessor, Pius the Sixth, must concur. He condemned 
as injurious to the Church and the spirit of God who guides her, the doctrine con- 



1899-] LEO XIII. ON "AMERICANISM." 135 

tained in proposition Ixxviii. of the Synod of Pistoia, " that the discipline made 
and approved by the Church should be submitted to examination, as if the 
Church could frame a code of laws useless or heavier than human liberty can 
bear." 

But, beloved son, in this present matter of which we are speaking, there is 
even a greater danger and a more manifest opposition to Catholic doctrine and 
discipline in that opinion of the lovers of novelty, according to which they hold 
such liberty should be allowed in the Church, that her supervision and watchful- 
ness being in some sense lessened, allowance be granted the faithful, each one to 
follow out more freely the leading of his own mind and the trend of his own 
proper activity. They are of opinion that such liberty has its counterpart in 
the newly given civil freedom which is now the right and the foundation of 
almost every secular state. 

In the apostolic letters concerning the Constitution of States, addressed by 
us to the Bishops of the whole Church, we discussed this point at length; and 
there set forth the difference existing between the Church, which is a divine 
society, and all other social human organizations which depend simply on free 
will and choice of men. 

It is well, then, to particularly direct attention to the opinion which serves as 
the argument in behalf of this greater liberty sought for and recommended to 
Catholics. 

It is alleged that now the Vatican Decree concerning the infallible teach- 
ing authority of the Roman Pontiff having been proclaimed, that nothing further 
on that score can give any solicitude, and accordingly, since that has been safe- 
guarded and put beyond question, a wider and freer field, both for thought and 
action, lies open to each one. But such reasoning is evidently faulty, since, if we 
are to come to any conclusion from the infallible teaching authority of the Church, 
it should rather be that no one should wish to depart from it, and moreover that 
the minds of all being leavened and directed thereby, greater security from pri- 
vate error would be enjoyed by all. And further, those who avail themselves of 
such a way of reasoning, seem to depart seriously from the overruling wisdom 
of the Most High which wisdom, since it was pleased to set forth by most 
solemn decision the authority and supreme teaching rights of this Apostolic 
See willed that decision precisely in order to safeguard the minds of the 
Church's children from the dangers of these present times. 

These dangers, viz., the confounding of license with liberty, the passion for 
discussing and pouring contempt upon any possible subject, the assumed right 
to hold whatever opinions one pleases upon any subject, and to set them forth in 
print to the world, have so wrapped minds in darkness that there is now a great- 
er need of the Church's teaching office than ever before, lest people become 
unmindful both of conscience and of duty. 

We, indeed, have no thought of rejecting everything that modern industry 
and study has produced ; so far from it, that we welcome to the patrimony of 
truth and to an ever-widening scope of public well-being whatsoever helps 
toward the progress of learning and virtue. Yet all this, to be of any solid 
benefit, nay, to have a real existence and growth, can only be on the condition of 
recognizing the wisdom and authority of the Church. 

Coming now to speak of the conclusions which have been deduced from 
the above opinions and for them, we readily believe there was no thought of 
wrong or guile, yet the things themselves certainly merit some degree of sus- 



136 LEO XIII. ON "AMERICANISM" [April, 

picion. First, all external guidance is set aside for those souls who are striving 
after Christian perfection as being superfluous, and even disadvantageous 
the contention being that the Holy Spirit pours richer and more abundant graces 
than formerly upon the souls of the faithful, so that without human- intervention 
He teaches and guides them by some hidden instinct of His own. Yet it is the sign 
of no small over-confidence to desire to measure and determine the mode of the 
divine communication to mankind, since it wholly depends upon His own good 
pleasure and He is a most free dispenser of His own gifts. (' The Spirit breath- 
eth whereso He listeth." John Hi. 8. "And to each one of us grace is given 
according to the measure of the giving of Christ." Eph. iv. 7.) 

And shall any one who recalls the history of the Apostles, the faith of the 
nascent Church, the trials and deaths of the martyrs and, above all, those olden 
times so fruitful in saints dare to measure our age with these, or affirm that 
they received less of the divine outpouring from the Spirit of Holiness ? Not to 
dwell upon this point, there is no one who calls in question the truth that the 
Holy Spirit does work by a secret descent into the souls of the just and that He 
stirs them alike by warnings and impulses, since, unless this were the case, all 
outward defence and authority would be unavailing. " For if any persuades him- 
self that he can give assent to saving, that is, to gospel truth when proclaimed, 
without an illumination of the Holy Spirit, who gives unto all sweetness both to 
assent and to hold, such an one is deceived by a heretical spirit." (From the 
Second Council of Orange, Canon 7.) 

Moreover, as experience shows, these monitions and impulses of the Holy 
Spirit are for the most part felt through the medium of the aid and light of an 
external teaching authority. To quote St. Augustine: " He (the Holy Spirit) co- 
operates to the fruit gathered from the good trees, since He externally waters 
and cultivates them by the outward ministry of men, and yet of Himself bestows 
the inward increase." (De Gratia Ckristi, chapter xix.) This, indeed, be- 
longs to the ordinary law of God's loving providence, that as He has decreed that 
men for the most part shall be saved by the ministry also of men, so has He 
wished that those whom He calls to the higher planes of holiness should be led 
thereto by men ; hence St. Chrysostom declares " we are taught of God through 
the instrumentality of men." (Homily I. in Inscr. Altar.) Of this a striking 
example is given us in the very first days of the Church. For though Saul, in- 
tent upon threatenings and slaughter, had heard the voice of our Lord Himself 
and had asked, " What dost Thou wish me to do ? " yet was he bidden to enter 
Damascus and search for Ananias. (Acts ix>) " Enter the city and it shall be 
there told to thee what thou must do." 

Nor can we leave out of consideration the truth that those who are 
striving after perfection, since by that fact they walk in no beaten or well-known 
path, are the more liable to stray, and hence have greater need than others of a 
teacher and guide. Such guidance has ever obtained in the Church ; it has been 
the universal teaching of those who throughout the ages have been eminent for 
wisdom and sanctity and hence they who reject it, do so, certainly, with rash- 
ness and peril. 

To one who thoroughly considers the question, even under the supposition 
that every exterior guide is. withdrawn, it does not yet appear what in the minds 
of innovators is the purpose of that more abundant influx of the Holy Spirit 
which they so greatly extol . To practise virtue there is absolute need of the assis- 
tance of the Holy Spirit, yet we find those who are fond of novelty giving an un- 



1 899-] LEO xin > ON "AMERICANISM." 137 

warranted importance to the natural virtues, as though they better responded to 
the customs and necessities of the times, and that, having these as his outfit, 
man becomes both more ready to act and more strenuous in action. It is not 
easy to understand how persons possessed of Christian wisdom can either pre- 
fer natural to supernatural virtues or attribute to them a greater efficacy and 
fruitfulness. Can it be that nature conjoined with grace is weaker than when 
left to herself? Can it be that those men illustrious for sanctity, whom the 
Church distinguishes and openly pays homage to, were deficient, came short in 
the order of nature and its endowments, because they excelled in Christian 
strength ? And although it be allowed at times to wonder at acts worthy of 
admiration, which are the outcome of natural virtue how many are there really 
strong in the habit of the natural virtues ? Is there any one not tried by temp- 
tations of the soul, and this in no light degree ? Yet ever to master such, as also 
to preserve in its entirety the law of the natural order, requires an assistance 
from on high. These single notable acts, to which we have alluded, will fre- 
quently upon a closer investigation be found to exhibit the appearance rather 
than the reality of virtue. Grant that it is virtue, yet unless we would " run in 
vain " and be unmindful of that eternal bliss which a good God in his mercy has 
destined for us, of what avail are natural virtues unless seconded by the gift of 
divine grace ? Hence St. Augustine well says : " Wonderful is the strength, and- 
swift the course, but outside the true path." For as the nature of man, owing 
to the primal fault, is inclined to evil and dishonor, yet by the help of grace is 
raised up, is borne along with a new greatness and strength, so, too, virtue, 
which is not the product of nature alone, but of grace also, is made fruitful unto 
everlasting life and takes on a more strong and abiding character. 

This overesteem of natural virtue finds a method of expression in assuming 
to divide all virtues into active and passive, and it is alleged that whereas passive 
virtues found better place in past times, our age is to be characterized by the 
active. That such a division and distinction cannot be maintained is patent for 
there is not, nor . can there be, merely passive virtue. ' Virtue," says St. 
Thomas Aquinas, " designates the perfection of some potency, but the end of 
such potency is an act, and an act of virtue is naught else than the good use of 
free will," acting, that is to say, under the grace of God if the act be one of 
supernatural virtue. 

He alone could wish that some Christian virtues be adapted to certain times 
and different ones for other times who is unmindful of the Apostle's words, 
" that those whom He foreknew, He predestined to be made conformable to the 
image of His Son." (Romans viii. 29.) Christ is the teacher and the exemplar 
of all sanctity, and to His standard must all those conform who wish for eternal 
life. Nor does Christ know any change as the ages pass, " for He is yesterday 
and to-day and the same for ever." (Hebrews xiii. 8.) To the men of all ages 
was the precept given : " Learn of Me, because I am meek and humble of heart." 
(Matt. xi. 29.} To every age has He been made manifest to us as obedient even 
unto death ; in every age the Apostle's dictum has its force : " Those who are 
Christ's have crucified their flesh with its vices and concupiscences." Would to 
God that more nowadays practised these virtues in the degree of the saints of 
past times, who in humility, obedience, and self-restraint were powerful " in 
word and in deed "to the great advantage, not only of religion but of the state 
and the public welfare. 

From this disregard of the evangelical virtues, erroneously styled passive, 



138 LEO XIII. ON "AMERICANISM" [April, 

the step was a short one to a contempt of the religious life which has in some 
degree taken hold of minds. That such a value is generally held by the up- 
holders of new views, we infer from certain statements concerning the vows 
which religious orders take. They say vows are alien to the spirit of our times, 
in that they limit the bounds of human liberty; that they are more suitable to 
weak than to strong minds ; that so far from making for human perfection and 
the good of human organization, they are hurtful to both ; but how false these as- 
sertions are is evident from the practice and the doctrine of the Church, which 
has ever highly approved of the religious life. Nor without good cause, for those 
who, under the divine call, have freely embraced that state of life did not content 
themselves with the observance of precepts, but, going forward to the evange- 
lical counsels, showed themselves ready and valiant soldiers of Christ. Shall 
we judge this to be a characteristic of weak minds, or shall we say that it is 
useless or hurtful to a more perfect state of life? Those who so bind themselves 
by the vows of religion, far from having suffered a loss of liberty, enjoy that ful- 
ler and freer kind, that liberty, namely, by which Christ hath made us free. 
(Galat. iv. ji.) 

And this further view of theirs, namely, that the religious life is either en- 
tirely useless or of little service to the Church, besides being injurious to the 
religious orders, cannot be the opinion of any one who has read the annals 
of the Church. Did not your country, the United States, derive the begin- 
nings both of faith and of culture from the children of these religious families ? 
- to one of whom but very lately, a thing greatly to your praise, you have 
decreed that a statue be publicly erected. And even at the present time 
wherever the religious families are found, how speedy and yet how fruitful a 
harvest of good works do they not bring forth ! How many leave home and 
seek strange lands to impart the truth of the Gospel and to widen the bounds 
of civilization; and this they do with the greatest cheerfulness amid mani- 
fold dangers. Out of their number, not less indeed than from the rest of 
the clergy, the Christian world finds the preachers of God's word, the directors 
of conscience, the teachers of youth, and the Church itself the examples of all 
sanctity. 

Nor should any difference of praise be made between those who follow the 
active state of life from those others who, charmed with solitude, give them 
selves to prayer and bodily mortification. And how much, indeed, of good re- 
port these have merited, and do merit, is known surely to all who do not forget 
that the " continual prayer of the just man" avails to placate and to bring down 
the blessings of Heaven when to such prayers bodily mortification is added. 

But if there be those who prefer to form one body without the obligation of 
the vows, let them pursue such a course. It is not new in the Church nor in any 
wise censurable. Let them be careful, however, not to set forth such a state 
above that of Religious Orders. But rather, since mankind are more disposed at 
the present time than formerly to indulge themselves in pleasures, let those be 
held in greater esteem " who having left all things have followed Christ." 

Finally, not to delay too long, it is stated that the way and method hitherto 
in use among Catholics for bringing back those who have fallen away from the 
Church should be left aside and another one chosen, in which matter it will suf- 
fice to note that it is not the part of prudence to neglect that which antiquity in 
its long experience has approved and which.is also taught by apostolic authority. 
The Scriptures teach us (Eccli. xvii. 4) that it is the duty of all to be solicitous 



1899-] LEO XIII. ON "AMERICANISM." 139 

for the salvation of one's neighbor according to the power and position of each. 
The faithful do this by religiously discharging the duties of their state of life, by 
the uprightness of their conduct, by their works of Christian charity, and by 
earnest and continuous prayer to God. 

On the other hand, those who belong to the clergy should do this by an en- 
lightened fulfilment of their preaching ministry, by the pomp and splendor of 
ceremonies, especially by setting forth in their own lives the beauty of that 
doctrine which St. Paul inculcated upon Titus and Timothy. But if, among the 
different ways of preaching the Word of God, that one sometimes seems to be 
preferable which is directed to non-Catholics, not in churches but in some 
suitable place, in such wise that controversy is not sought, but friendly confer- 
ence, such a method is certainly without fault. 

But let those who undertake such ministry be set apart by the authority of 
the bishops and let them be men whose knowledge and virtue has been pre- 
viously ascertained. For we think that there are many in your country who are 
separated from Catholic truth more by ignorance than by ill-will, who might 
perchance more easily be drawn to the one fold of Christ, if this truth be set 
forth to them in a friendly and familiar way. 

From the foregoing it is manifest, beloved son, that we are not able to give 
approval to those views which, in their collective sense, are called by some 
" Americanism." But if by this name are to be understood certain endowments 
of mind which belong to the American people, just as other characteristics belong 
to various other nations, or if, moreover, by it is designated your political condi- 
tion and the laws and customs by which you are governed, there is no reason to 
take exception to the name. But if this is to be so understood that the doctrines 
which have been adverted to above are not only indicated, but exalted, there can 
be no manner of doubt that our venerable brethren, the Bishops of America, 
would be the first to repudiate and condemn it as being most injurious to them- 
selves and to their country. For it would give rise to the suspicion that there 
are among you some who conceive and would have the Church in America to be 
different from what it is in the rest of the world. 

But the true Church is one, as by unity of doctrine, so by unity of govern- 
ment, and she is Catholic also. Since God has placed the centre and foundation 
of unity in the chair of Blessed Peter, she is rightly called the Roman Church, 
for "where Peter is there is the Church." (Ambrose, In PS.XI.J?.) Where- 
fore, if anybody wishes to be considered a real Catholic, he ought to be able to 
say from his heart the self-same words which Jerome addressed to Pope 
Damasus : " I, acknowledging no other leader than Christ, am bound in fellow- 
ship with Your Holiness; that is, with the chair of Peter. I know that the 
Church was built upon him as its rock, and that whosoever gathereth not with 
you, scattereth." 

These instructions which we give you, beloved son, in fulfilment of our duty, 
in a special letter, we will take care are communicated to the bishops of the 
United States; thus testifying again that love by which we embrace your whole 
country, a country which in past times has done so much for the cause of reli- 
gion, and which, with God's help, will do still greater things. To you, and to 
all the faithful of America, we grant most lovingly, as a:pledge~of Divine assist- 
ance, our apostolic benediction. 

Given at Rome, from St. Peter's, the 22d day of January, 1899, and the twenty- 
first of our pontificate. LEO XIII. 



140 LEO XI I L ON "AMERICANISM" [April, 

On the appearance of this letter of our Holy Father, the 
Paulists promptly sent to Rome the following cable message : 

" Pat 'res Paulini, litter as proxime missurt, Leonis XI I L doc- 
trinam plene amplectuntur " Literally translated into English, 
this reads : " The Paulist Fathers, who will shortly send a let- 
ter, fully embrace the doctrine of Leo XIII." 

The letter, which was sent a few days later, is as follows 
in the original Latin : 

NEO-EBORACI, 28 Februarii, 1899. 
BEATISSIME PATER: 

Vixdum Sanctitatis Vestrae litteras circa errores, quibus 
Americanismi nomen datur, E mo Cardinali Jacobo Gibbons 
Archiepiscopo Baltimorensi datas, in ephemeridibus Civitatis 
Neo-Eboracensis anglice redditas perlegimus, statim doctrinam 
in Pontificio documento propositam plene libenterque sumus 
amplexati : idque Sanctitati Vestrae telegraphice incunctanter 
significavimus. His vero Sanctitati Vestrae gratias ex corde re- 
ferimus, quia supremi Doctoris ac infallibilis Magistri munere 
fungens, nos in viis veritatis ducit ac tenebras erroris procul a 
nobis repellit ; eodemque spiritu Pater Hecker, si adhuc inter 
vivos ageret, Pontificium decretum filiali suscepisset veneratione. 

At haud leve animis nostris solamen ingessit lectio litterarum 
Sanctitatis Vestrae, praesertim quia in eisdem asseritur errores a 
Sancta Sede reprobates opinionum Patris Hecker interpreta- 
tionibus esse potius accensendos quam opinionibus in se inspectis. 
Ceterum si quid sit, sive in doctrina sive in " Vita " laudati 
Patris, quod, sapienti Sanctitatis Vestrae iudicio, emendandum 
esse decernatur, nos libenti animo Sanctae Sedis sententiae ac- 
quiescimus, turn quia Ecclesia Romana est columna et firma- 
mentum veritatis, tarn quia in regulis Instituti nostri mandatur : 
" Sit societatis ipsae nostrae omniumque eius sociorum nota 
praecipua atque insignis, submissio religiosa, alacris et laeta erga 
Sanctam Ecclesiam, omnemque potestatem in ea legitime con- 
stitutam, omnesque ordinationes auctoritate sua sancitas. 
Primum omnium Jesu Christi Vicario, Ecclesiaeque Sanctae 
Romanae, omnibusque Sanctae Sedis Apostolicae decretis atque 
monitis sive ad doctrinam sive ad disciplinam spectantibus, haec 
exhibeatur obedientia." Hujusmodi autem obedientia alte est 
in nostris insculpta cordibus, ita ut nunquam cogitavimus ab 
integritate et severitate Doctrinae Catholicae discedendi. At si 
juxta sententiam Sanctitatis Vestrae, nos hanc propensionem vel 
habuimus, vel specie saltern demonstravimus, vel nostra agendi 



1 899-] LEO XIII. ON "AMERICANISM" 14! 

ratione huic propensioni favorem quocumque modo praebuimus, 
nos grato animo, paternam Sanctitatis Vestrae correctionem 
suscipimus. 

Instituti nostri Constitutiones stricte mandant ut nos per- 
fectae studeamus orthodoxise, ut pro norma habeamus non tan- 
turn Ecclesiae definitiones sed etiam monita ac probatorum 
auctorum scripta circa vitam spiritualem, et ut devotiones quas 
Ecclesia patrocinatur atque commendat, promoveamus. Et in 
iis, haec declaratio invenitur : "Omnibus, etiam sacerdotibus, 
praescribitur, ut directione spirituali juxta auctorum probatorum 
principia utantur." In his ac in omnibus principia ac monita in 
litteris Sanctitatis Vestrae proposita nos sequuturos declaramus, 
pariterque plenum obsequium ac fidelem adhaesionem Sanctitati 
Vestrae ac S. Romanae Sedi profitemur. Insuper exemplaria 
libri cui .titulus Vita Patris Hecker neque vendituros neque 
aliis tradituros promittimus, usquedum correctio, iudicio S. 
Sedis facienda, non sit ad effectum perducta. 

Interim ad pedes Sanctitatis Vestrae provoluti, Apostolicam 
Benedictionem humiliter postulamus. 

Addictissimus Servus, 

Pro Institute Presbyterorum^Missionis 
S. Pauli Apostoli, 
GEORGIUS DESHON, 

Superior Generalis. 
Beatissimo Patri 

LEONI XIIL, P.P. 



142 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [April, 



THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 

AT the Tuxedo, New York City, on March 15, the Guild of Catholic authors 
and writers held the third meeting of the year 1899. Miss Marie F. Giles, 
Miss Lida Rose McCabe, and Mr. John Jerome Rooney were selected for the 
leading numbers on the programme. Two very interesting questions were pre- 
sented for discussion : (i) Would the Catholic drama succeed to-day ? (2) What 
is modern criticism ? 

For the February meeting an equally interesting programme was arranged, 
consisting of a sketch of the literary work of Joshua Huntington ; a paper on 
writing stories for the young, by Miss Marion J. Brunowe, and an address by the 
editor of the Penny Magazine, Mr. T. C. Quinn. The topics for discussion were : 
(i) Do Catholic books receive competent and helpful reviews from Catholic pa- 
pers ? (2) Should the art of poetry be more thoroughly cultivated ? 

The officers of the guild are: Rev. John Talbot Smith, president ; Mr. John 
J. Rooney, first vice-president ; Miss Ellen A. Ford, second vice-president ; Miss 
Marion J. Brunowe, secretary : Miss Marie Giles, librarian ; Rev. John J. Donlon, 
Brooklyn, and Mr. James Clancy, New York, trustees ; Mr. Arthur Ryan, secre- 
tary and treasurer, 27 Barclay Street, New York City. 

The aims of the guild are : To bring Catholic writers of the metropolis and 
of the country together, and to help its members toward success. For this pur- 
pose committees have been appointed to read manuscript, look after copyrights, 
and give advice, to struggling and inexperienced writers. To aid in the develop- 
ment of the Catholic idea in literature. To this end discussions at the meetings 
will be directed, new fields of work will be described, and eminent writers will 
address the members. Efforts will be made to revive or keep alive the memory 
and the good work of deceased Catholic writers. 

All Catholic writers are invited to attend the meetings and to become mem- 
bers. The annual fee is two dollars. Applications for membership can be made 
to any officer of the guild. This is the only society of this kind at present exist- 
ing in the United States. 

* * * 

The American Irish Historical Society has for its purposes the study of 
American history generally; to investigate specially the immigration of the 
people of Ireland to this country, determine its numbers, examine the sources, 
learn the place of its settlement ; to examine records of every character where- 
ever found ; to endeavor to correct erroneous, distorted, and false views of 
history in relation to the Irish race in America ; to promote and foster an honor- 
able and national spirit of patriotism ; to place the results of its historical inves- 
tigations and researches in acceptable literary form, and to print, publish, and 
distribute its documents. 

Any person of good moral character who is interested in the special work of 
this society shall be deemed eligible for the same. No tests other than that of 
character and devotion to the society's objects shall be applied to membership. 
The society shall comprise life members and annual members, who shall pay 
dues provided by the by-laws. Payment of fifty dollars in advance at one time 
shall constitute a life-membership. Life members shall be exempt from further 
membership dues. The annual membership fee shall be three dollars, payable 






1899-] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 143 

the first day of February in each year. Applications may be sent to Mr. 
Thomas B. Lawler, No. 70 Fifth Avenue, New York City. 
* * * 

Dr. Thomas Addis Emmet, the distinguished physician and scholar, of New 
York City, at the recent annual meeting of the American-Irish Historical Society 
read an instructive paper on Irish Emigration during the Seventeenth and Eigh- 
teenth Centuries. He shows in this learned contribution to American history 
that the early Irish settlers here played an important part in the affairs of this 
country. Dr. Emmet's paper is written from the Catholic point of view, which 
is generally ignored by ordinary text-book writers. The claim is established 
by convincing proof that the Irish people were the pioneers from almost the first 
settlement on the Atlantic coast and continued until the line of emigration had 
crossed the continent to the Pacific. The Colonial records bear testimony that 
the Irish were here at an early period, and so many hamlets on the frontier were 
designated by such distinctive Irish names that, had we no other proof than these 
facts, we could not honestly divest ourselves of the conviction that Ireland con- 
tributed more in numbers for the development of this country than came from 
any other source. 

Great injustice has been done the Irish people by depriving them of credit 
so justly due them. This has resulted partially from ignorance, but to a greater 
extent from an influence exerted prior to the first settlement in this country. 
The purpose which prompts this injustice has been maintained through Eng- 
lish influence, and has always been wanting so much in charity that we can hope 
to accomplish little in any effort to establish the truth, so long as individuals in 
this country are willing to have their judgment influenced by the policy of a for- 
eign power. 

The same influence has been as actively engaged in claiming that we are 
English; that this country is consequently "a worthy daughter of a more worthy 
mother." Yet my investigations have impressed me with the belief that of the 
seventy-five millions. forming our present population there are a far greater num- 
ber of individuals who could be more certain of their African origin than there 
are those who could prove a direct English descent. 

It is not sufficient to show proof of an ancestor sailing from an English 
port, as all were rated during the seventeenth century as English, without refer- 
ence to their nationality. Moreover, the bearing of an English name would be 
no more conclusive, as we shall show a large proportion of the "Wild Irish" 
were compelled by law to assume English surnames which their descendants 
bear at the present time. 

I have no accurate data bearing directly upon the early emigration of the 
Irish to this country, for none exist. On the other hand, the assertion that they 
were among the first settlers, and the most numerous afterward, cannot be dis- 
proved for the same reason. But I will show, as circumstantial evidence, that 
throughout the greater portion of the seventeenth century a dire provocation ex- 
isted, and that the Catholics were driven out of Ireland by a persecution which 
has never been equalled. The world to-day is in ignorance of the fact, since a 
truthful history of Ireland, and of the suffering borne by a majority of the peo- 
ple, has yet to be written. 

Whenever an advantage was to be gained by falsifying a historical event, the 
English government has never hesitated, for centuries past, to exercise its influ- 
ence for that purpose. Yet, with a strange inconsistency, every record in the 



144 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [April, 1899.] 

keeping of the government is zealously preserved, notwithstanding the most 
damning testimony is thus furnished. 

Virginia was undoubtedly first settled by the English, but at an early period 
the Irish began to come in, bound to serve a stated term in payment for their 
passage money ; but eventually these people became free men, settling down on 
the frontier, and their descendants in the next generation, as indicated by their 
names appearing in the records, began to take part in the affairs of the colony. 

Maryland was chiefly settled by Irish Catholics, and Calvert himself was an 
Irishman, and received his title of Lord Baltimore from a place in the southwest 
of Ireland. 

William Penn spent a large portion of his life in Ireland before receiving his 
grant in America. A number of his followers were Irish, and the most promi- 
nent person next to Penn himself was James Logan, an Irishman, who acted as 
governor of the province for a number of years. He was most tolerant to the 
Irish Catholics, who were allowed free exercise of their religion, and they re- 
ceived protection in this colony from the first settlement. 

Many of those who first settled in New Jersey were from Ireland, and there 
were undoubtedly some Irish in New Amsterdam. In the Jesuit Relations it is 
shown that Father Jogues, who afterward suffered the death of a martyr aiiiong 
the Indians of Central New York, came about 1642 from Canada \ r administer 
to those of his faith then living among the Dutch. 

In 1634 the General Court of Massachusetts Bay granted lands on the Mer- 
rimac River for an Irish settlement, and there were several hundred Irishmen 
who served in King Philip's Indian War whose names are still preserved in the 
colonial records. I have a record of the fact, but neglected to note the authority 
of a reference to a contemporaneous account of a fearful storm which occurred 
in the winter of 1634-35 off the north coast of Ireland. As one of the incidents 
mentioned is made of the shipwreck of a vessel filled with Irish emigrants, on 
the second day out of their voyage to join, as was stated, the Merrimac River 
settlement in New England, this straw of information is a valuable indication 
in our current of circumstantial evidence. It establishes the fact, by another 
source, that an Irish settlement was planted on the Merrimac River as early as 
1634. It also shows that however intolerant the New England Puritans were 
sometimes in their immediate surroundings to the Catholics, they did tolerate in 
this instance, and likely in many others, the " fighting Irish," as they were 
termed. In fact, they gave little thought to their religious belief so long as they 
remained on the frontier to fight the Indians. This incident shows that emi- 
grants sailed from the north of Ireland for this settlement, notwithstanding it 
may have been necessary to have commenced their voyage from an English 
port, and it also proves that these people were Catholics. The fact as to their 
religion is established by a knowledge of the condition of the country at that 
particular time, as I have attempted to describe. The Catholics were fleeing in 
all directions from the district of country which had been laid waste, and in 
many instances they had to subsist on the dead bodies of those who had pre- 
ceded them, and who had died on the way from starvation. None but the Catho- 
lics left Ireland at this time, as every individual in sympathy with the English 
was then busy in bettering his condition by securing a portion of the spoils. 

There were a number of Catholics sent out to New England through the 
efforts of Cromwell, and although they may not have come at that time as will- 
ing emigrants their descendants must afterward have become identified with 
the country. M. C. M. 



THE 



CATHOLIC WORLD. 



VOL. LXIX. 



MAY, 1899. 



No. 410. 




SALVE, I^EGINA! 

BY R. H. ARMSTRONG. 

HOU little maid among the olive-trees 

That trembled when the angel bade thee 

hail, 
Whose wondering brow paled with the 

winging breeze, 
Whose heart, before his lips had told the 

tale, 

Had all its blessedness quite folded up 
Like golden treasure in a lily cup ! 

Salve, Regina ! 

Ah, mother with the Infant at thy breast, 
So wrapt about in love, given and giving ; 

The little God-child with His wet lips pressed 

And tightening fingers clasped, and through thee living 

Thy God and yet thy babe, thy very ow r n 

Ah, sweet and full the joy that thou hast known ! 

Salve, Regina ! 

O woman at the Cross, and all alone, 

That anguish singled thee as did thy bliss, 

Blest among women. . . . No other moan 
So full of bitterness as thine. 'Tis this 

That doth make Love, remembering thee, more sweet, 

And Sorrow, gentler grown, weeps at thy feet. 

Salve, Salve, Regina ! 

Copyright. THE MISSIONARY SOCIETY OF ST. PAUL THE APOSTLE IN THE 

STATE OF NEW YORK. 1899. 
VOL. LXIX. 10 




146 THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. [May, 

THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. 

BY WILLIAM SETON, LL.D. 

IN our review of the progress of science in the 
U nineteenth century let us begin with Astronomy. 
When the century opened astronomy, through 
the labors of Kepler, Galileo, Huygens, Newton, 
Laplace, and Lagrange, had become an exact 
science. These great men had given us the key to the move- 
ments of the heavenly bodies ; we knew that they were all 
swayed by the mysterious force of gravitation, and the work 
of our time has been mainly to discover new planets and stars, 
to make more accurate our knowledge of the positions and 
motions of the ones we already know, and to discover the 
materials out of which the stars and planets are composed. 

The telescopes of the year 1800 might, in certain respects, 
have been called primitive compared with the ones now in use, 
where clock-work regulates the movements, and where a micro- 
scope reveals the most delicate measurements. In 1800 the 
distance of not a single star had been measured ; indeed, this 
was thought to be an impossibility, while even as late as 1836 
Auguste Comte maintained that Newton's theory of gravitation 
could not be proved to extend beyond our own little sun- 
system. And he also believed that the outer stars might be 
composed of matter altogether different from anything known 
to our earth. Not many years before the beginning of the 
century Sir William Herschel who, by the way, constructed 
his own telescope had discovered the planet Uranus, and this 
was almost the only addition to the solar system which had been 
made within historical time. But in 1801 the diminutive planet 
Ceres was discovered. Ceres is only 196 miles in diameter, yet 
it is the largest of the minor planets. Shortly afterv /ds two 
more like it were discovered, which were named Pallas and 
Juno, and almost every year since then other little planets 
have come to light, until they now number about 232. They 
have been christened Asteroids, and there are astronomers who 
believe that they may be the fragments of one big planet which 
was shattered in pieces through some mighty catastrophe. 

After the discovery of the asteroids astronomers became 



1 899-] T HE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. 147 

greatly interested in two remarkable comets known as Encke's 
and Biela's. In 1819 Professor Encke, of Berlin, discovered the 
comet called after him. It is quite small, and he calculated 
that it returned regularly every three years and a quarter. 
The reason why this comet is more than commonly interesting 
and perplexing to astronomers is because it shows itself two 
hours and a quarter earlier at each appearance. A few years 
later in 1826 an Austrian officer, Biela, discovered the comet 
which bears his name. When Biela's comet returned in 1832 
thousands of people were panic-stricken, for it had been calcu- 
lated that it would cross the earth's orbit and in the collision 
which might ensue the earth would be destroyed. When it 
returned in 1845 it presented an awe-inspiring, never-to-be-for- 
gotten sight. But suddenly one night Lieutenant Maury, of 
the Washington Observatory, found that it had broken in two, 
and each of the two comets had a perfect head and tail. These 
celestial twins, so to speak, kept each other company. They 
returned in 1852 ; then disappeared, and have not been seen 
since. 

After the diminutive planets of which we have spoken 
and Encke's and Biela's comets, the next astronomical dis- 
covery in our century was certainly a very remarkable one : 
we allude to the discovery of the planet Neptune. We call it 
very remarkable because it was made quite independently by 
two mathematicians who, without using a telescope, arrived 
almost simultaneously at the same end, namely, the) 7 indicated 
the very spot in the heavens where a disturbing body was to 
be looked for, solely by means of Newton's law of gravitation. 
It had been observed by astronomers ever since Sir William 
Herschel the father of Sir John discovered Uranus, in 1781, 
that this planet did not move as it should move according to 
the law of gravitation ; its orbit was not what it ought to be, 
allowing for the attraction of the sun and the planets already 
discovered ; some unknown body must be pulling it out of its 
path. But no eye had yet been able to find the disturbing 
body. But in 1843 John Couch Adams, a student at Cam- 
bridge, England, set to work on this problem, and sure enough 
he accurately calculated precisely where a new planet would be 
found if a telescope were turned to a certain part of the 
heavens. And while Adams was thus at work in his study at 
Cambridge, Leverrier, in Paris, was engaged in the very same 
way. And lo ! when these two mathematicians made known the 
result of their difficult calculations and told astronomers where 



148 THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. [May, 

to point their telescopes, a new planet came to light, and it 
was christened Neptune. After the discovery of Neptune, the 
next interesting discovery we came to was the finding of the 
paths of meteors, or shooting stars. This discovery showed that 
besides the sun, the planets and their moons, our solar system 
consists of myriads of diminutive bodies also revolving around 
our sun, which diminutive bodies are believed to be the shat- 
tered fragments which have been thrown up from the interior 
of other globes, and when these stones enter our atmosphere 
they become heated and glow, owing to the incredible speed at 
which they rush through it. But while they may be said to be 
swarming within our sun system, there is some evidence that 
their proper habitat is interstellar space ; and let us add that 
the composition of meteors now forms a separate branch of 
mineralogy. 

Schiaparelli, an Italian astronomer, in 1862 proved that a 
comet which in that year crossed the earth's path, crossed it 
at the same point in the heavens as the earth is in during the 
meteor sjiower which occurs on August 10, and he suggested 
that the August meteors and the comet were travelling in the 
same orbit. This pregnant suggestion turned out to be correct. 
At about the same time that Schiaparelli made this discovery 
in regard to the August meteors and the comet, Adams in 
England and Leverrier in France determined the orbit of the 
November meteor stream. And lo ! it was found a few years 
later that a comet was travelling along the very path of the 
November shooting stars. Now, this association between these 
two meteor streams and these two comets was too close to be 
accidental ; and it is now believed to be highly probable that 
a comet is a group of meteoric stones whose densest portion, 
the nucleus, is solid matter loosely held together, and cometary 
light is undoubtedly of electrical origin. 

It is also considered probable that the much larger comets 
than Encke's and Biela's, which have appeared at different 
times, are similarly associated with vastly larger meteor systems. 
Professor Lockyer, moreover, has shown that fragments of 
meteoric stones, intensely heated in a vacuum, give a spectrum 
closely resembling the spectrum of a comet. Nor can there be 
much doubt that the countless millions of so-called shooting 
stars whether grouped together as comets or flying singly 
through space play an important part in the economy of the 
solar system. Indeed, some astronomers maintain that the 
unending downfall of meteoric showers upon the surface of the 



1899-] THE CENTURY' s PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. 149 

sun is enough to account for the continuance of the solar light 
and heat. The whole immense space between the sun and the 
planets would certainly seem to be swarming with meteoric life, 
and there are even astronomers who believe that not only our 
solar system but the whole universe may have been formed by 
the coming together, under the influence of gravitation, of widely 
diffused meteoric matter; the collision would produce heat and 
incandescence, and they hold to this hypothesis rather than to 
that of a primeval universe in a state of vapor, which became 
solid through cooling and contraction. It must be said, how- 
ever, that the supposition that the sun's heat and light may 
be kept up through a ceaseless down-pouring of meteors upon 
its surface is far from being so generally accepted as the 
theory advanced by Helmholtz. This German physicist sup- 
poses that the heat of the sun is kept up by the gradual con- 
traction of its own mass, and thus the nebular hypothesis of 
Laplace conceived in 1796 would seem as time goes on to 
be more and more securely established. Here let us say that 
Laplace, in his Me'canique Ctteste, taught that in the far distant 
past the matter which at present constitutes our solar system 
was expanded into an immense glowing nebula rotating through 
space and extending far beyond where the farthest planet now 
is, and that this nebulous mass contracted little by little as its 
heat radiated into space, and as it contracted it rotated more 
and more rapidly, until finally smaller rings of nebulous matter 
one after the other were left behind from the central mass ; 
but these smaller rings continued to revolve around it, and thus 
was formed our solar system sun, planets, and moons the sun 
to-day representing the core of the original nebula ; and this is 
what is known as the nebular hypothesis. It may well be, 
however, that Laplace's bold conception applies only to our 
own sun-system, and that it does not account for the origin of 
the double and multiple stars in the visible universe. And let 
us observe that about ten thousand binary or double stars are 
already known. Certainly some of these double stars are of a 
radically different type from our own solar system, and it has 
been asked whether our system may not be unique in its char- 
acter. May it not be an exceptional formation ? 

It certainly is unique among the star systems which have 
thus far been studied. Here let us remark that the theory of 
secular tidal friction developed by George Howard Darwin, son 
of the famous naturalist, and applied to the double stars, is 
conceived by Dr. T. J. J. See to have had not a little to do 



150 THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. [May, 

with modifying their figures and their motions. The masses of 
the dozen double stars which this astronomer has carefully ob- 
served differ but little one from the other, and Dr. See,* who 
has made double stars a special study, contrasts them with our 
own sun accompanied by its many planets, and he supposes 
that they have not developed from their primal nebula in the 
same manner as our sun system has developed. The two stars 
composing a binary system are supposed in the beginning to 
have formed a single nebulous mass; then, after assuming the 
figure of an hour-glass, the nebula split into two parts, and the 
changes which have come about between them since they split 
in two have been due to tidal friction ; they revolve one about 
the other in highly eccentric orbits, and this high eccentricity 
has been brought about by the action of the tides of each star 
on the other.f 

Whether beyond the tens of millions of stars which com- 
pose our universe there may not be other universes, it is not 
possible to tell. Yet astronomical analogies would indicate that 
the furthest star which the strongest telescope can descry does 
not mark the limits of creation. The immensity of our uni- 
verse may perhaps be grasped but only very faintly if we 
represent our solar system as a ring six feet in diameter with 
the sun in the centre. In this ring Neptune the most distant 
planet, 2,760,000,000 miles from the sun would be seen lying 
near the circumference, or about three feet from the centre of 
the ring. Once outside our imaginary ring and preserving the 
same scale of measurement, we should find nothing at all ex- 
cept some comets speeding from one sun to the other and 
swarms of meteors, until we had gone about three and a half 
miles. No, not until we had gone about this distance beyond 
the circumference of our ring should we come to the very 
nearest of all the outlying stars Alpha Centauri.:): 

Then from Alpha Centauri let us fancy ourselves journey- 
ing on and on and on into space, passing countless brilliant 
suns, some of them revolving one about the other, until at 
length we arrive at the furthest star which the most powerful 
telescope can faintly discern ; and it is supposed that this al- 
most invisible star may be represented as lying ten thousand 
times further from the' circumference of our ring than Alpha 
Centauri. Another" way, perhaps, to picture to ourselves the 

* See his very interesting article in the Atlantic Monthly for April, on the Solar System. 

f The Tides. By George Howard Darwin. 

% It is a binary, distant about twenty millions of millions of miles from the earth. 



1 899.] THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. 151 

vastness of our universe is to state that if our sun (which is 
believed to be moving toward a point in the constellation 
Hercules at the probable rate of 150,000,000 miles every year) 
were to move straight on in the direction of the nearest so- 
called fixed star, Alpha Centauri, and if this star were to stay 
where it is, our sun would barely reach Alpha Centauri in 
139,200 years. But whatever conception we may form of our 
universe, whatever hypothesis we may adopt in regard to its 
formation, we are still left in the midst of a mystery. 

Whence arose the first nebula? How was meteoric dust 
developed ? We are told that our sun system and other sun 
systems are controlled by the force of gravitation. But whence 
comes the force of gravitation ? We know that our sun and 
many so-called fixed stars have a proper motion through space, 
and we know pretty well the direction of this motion. But is 
it consistent with the theory of gravity that the path of our 
sun or any other body should be a straight line ? Moreover, 
there are a few stars which are known to be moving through 
space at a rate so terrific that it has been questioned whether 
these stars, which are moving at this indescribable, bewildering 
speed, may not be merely visitors, birds of passage, so to speak, 
from some remote universe, some outlying, far-off part of God's 
creation. 

As we have already said, when our century began the dis- 
tance of not a single star had been measured, while any know- 
ledge of the chemical nature of the planets and stars by direct 
observation was believed to be an impossibility. Yet the nebu- 
lar hypothesis requires, for its complete confirmation, that the 
matter which exists throughout our solar system should be the 
same matter as composes our earth. What at that time was 
thought to be an impossibility has been achieved : the dis- 
covery of the chemical nature of the heavenly bodies has been 
made through spectrum analysis. Here we may remark that 
the seven colors pointed out by Descartes, viz., red, orange, 
yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet, were called by Newton 
a spectrum, from specto I behold. There are, however, an 
infinite variety of colors, and they were roughly divided into 
seven merely for convenience sake. To be brief, spectrum an- 
alysis means analyzing and studying the different kinds of light 
when viewed through a prism. And it is fortunate that light 
is of a complex nature that there are many kinds of light 
rays, and that they become widely scattered differently re- 
fracted in passing through a piece of glass cut in the shape of 



152 THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. [May, 

a wedge or prism. Moreover, some of the rays of light may 
be blotted out while other rays are made brighter, and it is in 
these differences that we have, as it were, a code of signals 
which, correctly interpreted, convey to the astronomer the chem- 
ical nature of the gases by which certain light rays have been 
blotted out and others have been made brighter. Newton, in 
his work on the solar spectrum, failed to perceive on his screen 
the dark lines which cross the colors of the spectrum. These 
significant dark lines, or narrow gaps, were first pointed out 
by Wollaston, in 1802. But this eminent English chemist 
missed their true significance. He viewed the dark lines in the 
colors of the solar spectrum as the boundary lines of the spec- 
tral colors, and it was left to a German, Joseph Fraunhofer, 
not only to trace a great number of these dark lines crossing 
the solar spectrum (the principal ones are now called Fraun- 
hofer's lines), but also to discover similar dark lines although 
differently arranged in the spectra of several stars ; and let 
us say that in his observations he placed a prism before the 
object-glass of his telescope a star spectroscope was an instru- 
ment not yet invented. But although Fraunhofer made some 
suggestive experiments and found that two dark lines in the 
spectrum of the sun apparently corresponded in their place in 
the spectrum, and in their distance from each other, to two 
bright lines which were generally present in artificial, terres- 
trial flames, he advanced no further and left us in ignorance 
of the cause of these dark lines of these rayless bands. 

It was not until 1859 tnat another German physicist, Kirch- 
hofl, told us what these dark lines in the spectrum of the sun 
meant. He proved that they are due to the absorption of the 
vapors of similar substances which when heated give out cor- 
responding bright lines. Here was the answer, the correct in- 
terpretation of the dark lines as a code of signals : correctly 
interpreted, they gave a clue to the chemical constitution of 
our sun. And as it is the light of the sun which gives the 
moon its light, he perceived that the dark lines come in the 
same place in the spectrum of the moon. 

But when Kirchhoff examined the light of the stars with a 
spectroscope (all the so-called fixed stars are suns) he found 
that the dark lines in the star spectrum did not all occupy 
the same place as the dark lines in our sun spectrum, and he 
argued that some intrinsic difference must exist between the 
light of our sun and the light of the stars. 

This brief work of Kirchhoff may be called the first step in 



1899-] THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. 153 

our study of the solar system and the stellar systems by spec- 
trum analysis. 

Since 1859 great progress has been made through this ingen- 
ious method of research. We know to-day not only that cer- 
tain earthly substances are present in the stars, but that in 
some stars there are substances which are not found on our 
earth. Spectrum analysis has also enabled us to separate into 
double stars systems whose component parts are too close to- 
gether for the largest telescope to resolve ; these intimately 
connected double stars are detected through their giving a com- 
pound spectrum. Moreover the spectroscope has enabled us to 
calculate the rate at which a star may be travelling towards 
us or away from us ; for the rate at which a star moves may 
be measured by its change of color : the color-change depend- 
ing on the fact that if a star is coming towards us, the succes- 
sion of light waves strike upon the eye more rapidly than if 
it is receding from us. If a star is receding it sends fewer 
vibrations in a second : hence a change in its color ; its lines 
move towards the red end of the spectrum. But if it is mov- 
ing towards us, it will appear tinged with blue. Here let us 
say that two centuries ago Huygens assumed as a good work- 
ing hypothesis yet one most difficult to conceive that the 
vast, airless space between our earth and the stars was filled 
with an elastic, invisible substance to which he gave the name 
of ether ; and he assumed that this subtle substance is set in 
wave-like motions by the sun and all luminous bodies, and that 
these waves or undulations when they strike upon the eye 
cause the sensation which we call light. Accepting as true 
this hypothesis, let us say that when the ether waves set in 
motion by the sun strike the earth they are impeded in their 
motion, for it is harder for them to travel through the solid 
earth than through the ether, and consequently a number of 
the ether waves bound or vibrate back from the earth to the 
eye, and as they vibrate differently according to the condition 
of the earth its roughness, its dryness, its softness they 
impress the eye differently and make an impression of the 
earth as it is. But a perfectly transparent body lets nearly 
all the ether waves pass through it ; in this case very few of the 
ether waves vibrate back to the eye, and so you might walk up 
against a glass door without seeing it. But put some mercury be- 
hind the glass, and you have a reflected image of yourself, a 
looking-glass ; because the mercury lets hardly any of the ether 
waves pass through it it makes them vibrate back to your eye. 



154 THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCJENCE. [May, 

A leaf looks green because all the ether waves, except the green 
waves, are supposed to be absorbed by the leaf ; only the green 
waves vibrate back to your eye, and vibrate just rapidly enough 
to make on your eye the sensation called green. A red object 
is supposed to absorb all the ether waves except the red ones, 
which vibrate back and give the sensation called red. A blue 
object is supposed to absorb all the ether waves except the 
blue ones, which vibrate back and give the sensation called 
blue ; and so on with all the other colors. In a word, the 
colors of objects are supposed to be due to the unequal ab- 
sorption of rays of light of different refrangibility. But spec- 
trum analysis has done more than separate double stars and 
tell how fast stars may be travelling to or from us. It has al- 
so thrown not a little light on the nature of the nebulae. Sir 
William Herschel supposed that the nebulas were all star 
clusters which were too distant for any telescope to discover 
the stars which compose them. Now we know that, while stars 
and nebulae are often closely connected, many nebulae consist 
entirely of glowing hydrogen and nitrogen gases. 

But wonderful as have been the results achieved through 
spectrum analysis, we have discovered by means of photogra- 
phy things almost as wonderful. By applying a sensitive pho- 
tograph plate to the telescope instead of the human eye, we 
have obtained photographs of comets, stars, and nebulae which 
it was utterly impossible for the eye to see through the tele- 
scope ; the retina of the strongest eye soon wearies, whereas 
the metallic plate does not weary, and the cumulative effects 
of many hours' exposure reveal depths in our universe un- 
dreamed of before. Astronomers are even preparing to photo- 
graph the entire heavens, and when this task is coVnpleted we 
shall have photographs of between ten and twenty millions of 
stars. 

PHYSICS. 

From astronomy let us pass to the domain of Physics. 
Here we may confidently say that one of the most important 
discoveries of our century is the law of the conservation of 
energy. What led up to this discovery was the determination 
by many experiments of the mechanical equivalent of heat. A 
century ago Sir Humphry Davy concluded that heat was a 
mode of motion, " probably a vibration of the corpuscles (that 
is, the little particles) of bodies tending to separate them." 
Thus, if we set a pan of water on some burning coals, the vi- 



1899-] THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. 155 

bration which takes place in the coals as they burn passes into 
the metal of the pan, and through the pan it passes to the 
water. Presently the minute particles which compose the water 
tend to push apart. But being bound to one another by the 
force of attraction, they quiver and vibrate, for they cannot 
yet get away from each other ; and it is this vibration which 
gives you the sensation of heat if you touch the water with 
your finger. But by and by, as the water in the pan gets hotter 
and hotter, the quivering and vibration of its tiny particles become 
more and more violent, until at length the force of attraction 
which holds the particles of water together is overcome by the 
force of motion, and then away fly these little particles in the 
shape of steam. But we have not space to tell all the ways 
whereby it has been shown that heat is not a material substance 
but a mode of motion, and that energy may be converted into 
heat. Let us merely observe that it is generally held that 
James P. Joule, of Manchester, in 1849, was the first to establish 
that a certain force exerted would produce a corresponding 
amount of heat ; that there was a mechanical equivalent of 
heat. By a very ingenious experiment he showed that a weight 
weighing one pound must fall 772 feet in order to raise the 
temperature of one pound of water by 1 Fahrenheit. And 
Joule's conclusions led to the more general law known as the 
conservation of energy. By this is meant that the energy, the 
power to do work in the operations of nature which a body 
possesses, may be transformed but cannot be destroyed. The 
energy which converts heat into work or work into heat remains 
always the same ; if it be lost in one form it will reappear in 
another. A ball that falls to the ground rests there, but the 
energy of the falling ball has been converted into heat, which 
heat, if it were stored up and utilized, would again lift the ball to 
the height from which it fell. This important principle would 
seem to show that all the forces of nature depend one on the 
other ; and moreover, that force does not originate on the 
earth, but comes to us from the sun, or had its source in the 
sun before the earth parted from it.* 

ELECTRICITY. 

We shall now speak of electricity. Our century has wit- 
nessed marked advances in this science, although we do not 

* Memorandums found among the papers of the French scientist, Sadi Carnot, prove 
that he had come to believe that heat is in reality motion motion which has changed its 
form. A number of years before Joule, Carnot had convinced himself of the doctrine of 
the conservation of energy. 



156 THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. [May, 

yet know what electricity really is. But while we take a rea- 
sonable pride in what has been achieved in the past hundred 
years through this form of energy, we should not forget what 
was done by Galvani and Franklin. These great men prepared 
the way for Volta. 

In 1800 Alessandro Volta, an Italian, made the first step 
toward the electric telegraph by showing that two different 
metals say, zinc and copper joined by a wire and placed in 
acid and water, will set up a current of electricity from the 
one to the other. And in the electric battery which Volta 
made, and which is known as the Voltaic pile, a constant cur- 
rent of electricity will pass along the wire for any distance as 
long as the circuit is not interrupted. 

The next discovery, namely, that electricity is in some mys- 
terious way connected with magnetism, was made by a Dane 
named Hans Christian Oersted, in 1819. It had been known 
since the fifteenth century that a needle after having been 
rubbed on a loadstone* always points north and south; and 
this kind of needle, as it is very useful to mariners, became 
known as the mariner's compass. 

But why did one end of the needle point to the north and 
the other end to the south ? Not a few scientists answered 
this question by saying that the needle must be acted upon in 
some way by electric currents, which are known to be con- 
stantly streaming to and fro in the atmosphere. But it was 
not until 1819 that Oersted found that when an electric cur- 
rent is made to pass from south to north along a conducting 
wire which is placed parallel to a magnetic needle, the north 
end of the needle will turn towards the west until it lies at 
right angles to the path of the current. For example, if a 
copper wire be placed so that its two ends point north and 
south, and if a magnetic needle be poised right below it, the 
needle will now lie in a line with the wire, because a magnetic 
needle always points north and south. But if the wires of a 
Voltaic battery be made to join the two ends of this copper 
wire so that an electric current passes along it from south to 
north, then, as we have said, the north end of the needle be- 
gins to move away from the north towards the west, viz., to- 
wards the left side of the electric current, and it will keep 
moving until it points to the west. 

* It had long been known that a mineral called loadstone (iron in union with other sub- 
stances) attracted iron ; the loadstone is called a magnet because it was first discovered at a 
place called Magnesia, in Greece. 



1899-] THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. 157 

This discovery (the importance of which Oersted did not 
perceive) marked the very first step in a new science, the 
science of electro magnetism. Shortly after Oersted's discovery 
a French physicist, Andre Ampere, heard about it and he set 
eagerly to work, and in less than a week brought to light some 
curious facts about electro-magnetism. First he found that 
while the magnetic needle does indeed always lie across the 
path of the electric current, the north end of the needle turns 
different ways according to the direction in which the electric 
current flows. Arguing also from the hypothesis that magnetic 
force is caused by electric currents, Ampere tried to magnetize 
a bar of steel by running an electric current round it ; and by 
an ingenious method he succeeded. He wound a copper wire 
enveloped in silk round a steel bar ; then joining the two 
ends of the wire to a Voltaic battery, he sent a current of 
electricity through it ; and thus did he make the first electro- 
magnet. 

Moreover, Ampere conceived the pregnant idea that if an 
electric current may change a piece of metal into a magnet, 
the whole earth might be viewed as a gigantic magnet (being 
acted upon by the electric currents flowing from east to 
west) : and might not this give a clue to the direction of the 
magnetic needle? 

Here let us observe that to-day the magnetism of the earth 
is supposed to be influenced by spots on the sun. The expla- 
nation commonly given of sun spots is that luminous clouds 
which envelop the sun open at times and give us a glimpse of 
the body of the sun within ; and these small parts of the sun's 
body look like spots. It has been found also by observation 
that the spots regularly grow less during a period of five and 
a half years, after which they gradually increase again in num- 
ber. There is, therefore, a regular cycle of about eleven years 
in the growth and diminution of sun spots. And that they do 
exert some influence upon our earth is perceived by their effects 
on the magnetic needle and the electric telegraph. Moreover, 
as grand displays of the aurora borealis very often appear at the 
same time as the breaking out of uncommonly big sun spots, 
there is reason to believe that the Aurora and magi 
set in motion by the sun, 92,000,000 miles away, 
connected. 

But to come back to electro-magnetism, let 
even as Oersted's discoveries had kindled the genius 
so did Ampere's successful work in this new science^ 




158 THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. [May, 

creased enthusiasm to an English scientist, Michael Faraday. 
Deeply impressed by Ampere's experiment whereby a steel bar 
had been made into a magnet by passing an electric current 
through it, Faraday determined to see whether by reversing 
the experiment he might not set up a current of electricity by 
means of a magnet. In this he succeeded, and the many feet 
of wire which in his experiment he wound round a hollow 
wooden cylinder into which he thrust and drew out a power- 
ful bar magnet (while it rested in the cylinder no electric cur- 
rent was set upon the wire) led the way to what is known as 
the induction coil, by which powerful electrical effects are pro- 
duced. Here we may observe how electricity and magnet- 
ism through the discoveries of Volta, Oersted, Ampere, and 
Faraday surely led up, step by step, to the invention of the 
telegraph and the telephone. 

We remember how in 1800 Volta showed that a current of 
electricity may be produced by placing two different metals, 
joined by a wire, in acid and water and the current sent for 
any distance along the wire. Shortly afterwards it began to 
be asked whether this current might not be used in some way 
to make signals. 

Different plans were tried and failed, until, as we have said, 
Oersted discovered that an electric current made to flow from 
south to north near a magnetic needle caused the needle to 
turn and point west at right angles to the path of the current ; 
and until Ampere further showed that the north end of the 
needle might be turned from side to side, in different direc- 
tions, by changing the direction of the electric current ; the 
direction of the needle depending on the direction of the cur- 
rent. What was afterwards accomplished by Wheatstone, 
Morse, and others was merely to invent practical methods of 
utilizing the discoveries of these scientists. An electric current 
is sent along a wire and a message is framed according to the 
way in which the current flows round a magnetic needle ; the 
direction of the needle depends on the direction of the current ; 
so many turns of the needle to the right or to the left mean 
this or that letter. Herein lies the whole secret of the electric 
telegraph. 

But perhaps as useful as the telegraph has been the inven- 
tion of the telephone. In 1876 Professor Graham Bell, of Bos- 
ton, after several other inventors had tried and failed, produced 
an instrument which enables one person to speak to another at 
a distance. And this invention largely depends on a discovery 



1899-] THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. 159 

by Faraday which we have mentioned, namely, that an electric 
current may be set up in a coil of wire wound round a wood- 
en cylinder through the motion of a magnet drawn in and out 
of the cylinder. Now, a telephone is a small instrument contain- 
ing a permanent magnet at whose upper end is fastened a piece 
of soft iron, around which is coiled some copper wire envel- 
oped in silk, and this wire is made to connect with another 
telephone perhaps many miles away. At a little distance above 
the piece of soft iron, around which the copper wire is coiled, 
rests an iron plate or disc enclosed in a wooden frame which 
has an opening at the top, and into this opening the person 
speaks. 

The vibrations of the voice cause the particles of the disc 
to vibrate or quiver ; this vibration or quivering of the parti- 
cles of the disc affects the soft iron bar set a little below it 
and around which the wire is coiled. Now, this bar of soft 
iron which has become magnetized by touching one end of a 
permanent magnet has its magnetization changed according to 
the rate at which it vibrates and according to the form of the 
vibration or quivering ; and this change in the magnetization 
of the iron immediately sets up currents of electricity in the 
coil of wire, and these currents flow instantaneously to the other 
end of the wire, which is Connected with another telephone, 
and at this other end they flow around another coil of wire, 
affect another piece of soft iron, and cause the particles of 
another plate or disc to vibrate in exactly the same manner as 
the plate into the wooden frame of which the words were spoken. 
But if the same sounds are given out, it is not because the 
sound vibrations have passed along the wire, but because the 
vibrations, which at the speaker's end were changed into 
electric currents, are changed back again by these currents 'into 
identical sound vibrations in a similar plate or disc at the 
listener's end ; and these vibrations reproduce the very tone of 
the speaker. Surely if we analyze this invention we cannot fail 
to see how much it owes to Faraday's discovery that an electric 
current may be set up in a coil of wire by means of a magnet 
drawn in and out of the coil. 

But many as are the uses to which electricity has been turned 
in our wonderful century, we do not yet know what it really is. 
It may indeed be a fluid of a most subtle character. Yet this 
is merely a descriptive hypothesis. Here we quote from W. 
Stanley Jevons:* "An infinitely closer analogy exists between 

* The Principles of Science, vol. ii. p. 154. 



160 THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. [May, 

electricity and light undulations, which are about equally rapid in 
propagation ; and while we shall probably continue for a long 
time to talk of the electric fluid, there can be no doubt that this 
expression merely represents some phase of a molecular motion, 
some wave of disturbance propagating itself at one time through 
material conductors, at another time through the ethereal basis 
of light." 

GEOLOGY. 

From electricity let us now turn to Geology. A century ago 
the history of our earth was read very differently from the way 
we read it to-day. It was then the common belief that our 
earth had existed not very much more than five or six thou- 
sand years, and that the mountains and valleys, the tilted rocks 
and cafions, were evidences of mighty catastrophes. But a 
poor English surveyor, William Smith, well named the Father 
of English Geologists, was at work making a map of the various 
geological formations of his country, and in this map he showed 
how the strata were placed one above the other and how each 
stratum was characterized by different fossils ; and the work he 
accomplished contributed not a little to a correct reading of 
the earth's past history. It was not, however, until 1830 that 
the old-time views were seriously questioned by a famous 
geologist, Sir Charles Lyell. After patiently and carefully 
studying the changes which were going on around him during 
his own life-time, and the causes of those changes, Lyell wrote 
a book entitled Principles of Geology, in which he argued that 
the crust of the earth as we behold it now is not the work of 
any uncommon violence of nature, but is the result of causes 
which are still active ; but so gradually, so imperceptibly are 
changes brought about that we do not observe them. We do 
not see Nature ever at her work carving out valleys, levelling 
mountains, making the beds of rivers, raising land above the 
sea in one place, submerging it in the sea at another. And we 
believe we are correct when we say that to-day Lyell's views 
prevail among the great majority of geologists, and they are 
called Uniformitarians. But whether we range ourselves with 
the Uniformitarians or not, the geology of our century has made 
it highly probable that our globe is millions of years old. It 
has also come to be generally accepted that at no very remote 
period in the past it may be not more than eight or ten 
thousand years ago there was what is called an Ice-age, or 
glacial epoch. It was Louis Agassiz who first pointed out, in 



1899-] THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. 161 

the different countries which he visited about fifty years ago 
the scratchings on rocks seemingly made by ice. He also 
showed the remains of ancient moraines in places where to-day 
no glaciers are to be found, and he called attention to huge 
boulders erratics which must have been carried from a dis- 
tance by ice. From all his observations Agassiz concluded that 
at one time a field of ice, not unlike the ice-field which in our 
age covers Greenland, must have spread over a portion of North 
America and Europe. 

Since Agassiz studied the subject many others have taken 
it up ; and let us observe that quite recently Dr. James A. 
Mitchell, professor of geology at Mount St. Mary's College, 
Emmitsburg, has written a very interesting paper on glacial 
action in permo-carboniferous time. There is, therefore, not a 
little evidence to show that at one period of the earth's history, 
and it may be at different periods, a marked change of climate 
occurred in certain parts of the globe. This change may have 
been brought about by changes in the distribution of land and sea, 
and with this change of climate many regions became covered 
with a mantle of ice. 

NATURAL SELECTION. 

While the geologists of our century were at work studying 
the rocks, naturalists were endeavoring to explain how the 
different kinds of plants and animals which they saw around 
them had come to be what they are. The doctrine that they 
had been separately created by a distinct act of the Creator 
was almost universally held up to the beginning of the century. 
But in 1809 a great French naturalist, Lamarck, in a book too 
little read, entitled Philosophic Zoologique, taught that organic life 
had developed from lower into higher forms. Not many per- 
sons, however, accepted Lamarck's view. The great majority 
still held to the belief that Almighty God had created animals 
and plants pretty much as we see them to-day. What the 
great St. Augustine had written fifteen hundred years before 
about the operation of natural laws and creation by means of 
secondary causes seemed to be utterly forgotten. But as the 
century advanced, naturalists, although they had turned a deaf 
ear to Lamarck and had ignored St. Augustine, became more 
and more impressed by the fossils which they discovered in the 
rocks. In the lowest and oldest fossil-bearing strata, laid down 
millions of years ago, were found only shells of sea animals. A 
little higher up came fish. Above the primeval fish appeared 

VOL. LXIX. II 



1 62 THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. [May, 

the remains of swimming reptiles, some of them of gigantic 
size. In a little higher strata still were discovered reptiles with 
wings, and birds with teeth and long reptilian tails. Above the 
winged reptiles and reptilian birds were found lowly organized 
mammals of a distinctly reptilian type; transition forms, as it 
were, leading up to typical mammals, which finally appeared in 
the highest and newest rocks. It was interesting, too, to observe, 
in studying these numberless fossil remains, that the nearer 
the strata came together in rocks nearly of the same age 
the more closely did the fossils contained in the strata re- 
semble each other ; while the farther apart the strata, the more 
unlike were the fossils. And naturalists began to ask them- 
selves whether this might not point to genetic affinity. Did it 
not look as if new forms had not merely succeeded each other, 
but that there had been some special link connecting the num- 
berless forms which appeared one after the other in the various 
strata ? And the more they studied the fossils in the rocks and 
saw evidence of a gradual advance from the general to the 
special, from the low to the high, from the simple to the com- 
plex, and when naturalists became aware, too, of the striking 
facts revealed by embryology, the more convinced did they be- 
come that the organic life which they saw around them, instead 
of having been separately, specially created, had been gradually 
unfolded from a few simple types which God had created in the 
beginning. They only waited for some plausible explanation of 
how this unfolding might have come about in order to accept 
the doctrine of development. This plausible explanation was 
at last given by two naturalists Charles Darwin and Alfred R. 
Wallace who had been working at the problem thousands of 
miles apart, and who, without knowing what the other was 
doing, adopted the same line of argument. Their solution of 
the problem which was Natural Selection* appeared in two 
essays which were read the same evening July I, 1858 at the 
Linnaean Society, London. 

It was, however, Darwin's work The Origin of Species 
which appeared in November, 1859, that made so profound an 
impression on the scientific world and persuaded so many 
naturalists to accept the doctrine of development. In this 
work Natural Selection, as the main but not the only cause of 
change of species, is made to explain so many difficulties, gives 
such satisfactory reasons why in the lowest and oldest rocks we 

* Darwin called it natural selection in order to mark the analogy between it and artificial 
selection. 



1899-] THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. 



163 




ALFRED R. WALLACE PROPOSED THE THEORY OF NATURAL SELECTION THE 

SAME EVENING, JULY I, 1858, WITH DARWIN. 

should find the lowest, types of life, and ; why little by little, as 
organic life multiplied and the struggle .increased, more com- 
plicated forms appeared better fitted to survive in changed 
conditions that we can hardly wonder at the impression which 
this book made. Nevertheless, Lamarck's explanation of de- 
velopment still counts for not a little with some well-known 
naturalists, especially in America, where they are termed Neo- 
Lamarckians. 

Lamarck's theory is that development has come about mainly 



164 THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. [May, 

through the direct action of the environment upon internal 
structure and the transmission of the modifications thus pro- 
duced. He tells us, in Philosophie Zoologique, that species vary 
under changing external influences. While Lamarck firmly be- 
lieved in a Creator, he rejected the doctrine that animals had 
been created for a certain mode of life. He taught that a 
certain mode of life had, so to speak, created the animals. 

And let us add that Lamarck's definition of species is per- 
haps the best definition we have. " A species," he says, " is a 
collection of similar individuals which are perpetuated by gen- 
eration in the same condition, as long as their environment has 
not changed sufficiently to bring about variation in their habits, 
their character, and their form." 

But, as we have observed, it was the theory of natural 
selection, as propounded by Darwin and Wallace and elaborated 
in Darwin's epoch-making book, that gave the first rude shock 
to the belief in separate, special creations. And now when our 
century is closing we find the doctrine of evolution opposed only 
by well-meaning persons who have not made natural history a 
special study.* With little or no knowledge of classification, of 
geographical distribution, of geology, of comparative anatomy, 
or of embryology, these persons do .not hesitate to set up their 
own crude opinions against the opinions of authorities like St. 
George Mivart, Romanes, Cope, Marsh, Leidy, and hosts of 
other world-known students of nature. Their opposition, how- 
ever, is of no avail, and we may confidently assert that while 
naturalists are not all of one mind in regard to the causes of 
development (some holding natural selection to be the main 
factor, others adopting Lamarck's view, while a very small 
number believe that we have yet to find a vera causa), no 
naturalist of any repute declares his disbelief in the progressive 
evolution of species from other species. But, while naturalists 
differ in regard to the factors of development, we ourselves 
believe that the greater popularity of natural selection is largely 
owing to the fact that it does not require a naturalist to think 
it out. Its very simplicity has done much to make it popular. 
But it does require a naturalist's knowledge to discover the 
slight, promiscuous variations which exist in all groups of ani- 
mals and plants. And it is from these variations (which are 

* See Monsignor Beaunard's earnest letter on the Scientific Instruction of the Clergy, in 
Annales Catholiques, 6th August, 1898. He calls his letter a " Cri d'alarme." 

See also Dublin Review, October, 1898, page 246, where Bishop Hedley of Newport says : 
" , . . the foremost Catholic men of science of the day not only hold a theory of evolu- 
tion, but consider that there can be do doubt on the matter." 






1899-] THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. 165 

probably largely due to the direct action of the environment) 
that favorable ones are seized upon and developed by nature. 
In the struggle for life nature selects, so to speak, the varia- 
tions which are most fitted to survive: the variations best 
adapted to thrive on a certain food, to live in a certain climate, 
to escape certain enemies. And climate, food, and enemies are 
not always the same ; there is some little change, impercepti- 
ble to us, going on all the time. And thus in the course of 
years the race becomes changed to suit the changed conditions. 
This is what is meant by natural selection. And we may add 
that Lamarck's explanation of the origin of species is not really 
opposed to Darwin and Wallace's view. It is rather comple- 
mentary to it. 

MEDICINE. 

We shall now conclude our brief review of science in the 
nineteenth century with a few remarks on the progress of 
Medicine. Perhaps no discovery has done so much to lessen 
pain as the discovery of chloroform. The use of this anaes- 
thetic for producing unconsciousness was first made about fifty 
years ago by Sir James Y. Simpson ; and by means of chloroform 
surgeons are not afraid to perform operations which used to 
be considered impossible. Before its use the shock to the sys- 
tem was too great for recovery. 

Almost as useful to mankind as chloroform has been Dr. 
Lister's antiseptic treatment of wounds. By this treatment 
freshly cut surfaces may be exposed to the air and will soon 
heal ; for it has been proved that suppuration and putrefaction 
are not due to normal changes, but are caused by the presence 
of bacteria. Lister's method consists in carefully washing every 
instrument that touches a wound in a solution of corrosive 
sublimate, and in filling the air which surrounds the patient 
with an abundant spray of carbolic acid. The microscopic 
disease-germs are thus kept away or destroyed. Here let us 
say that we owe to the brilliant researches of Pasteur the 
foundation of modern bacteriology. Through Pasteur the mi- 
croscope has lifted physiology and pathology into new realms 
of discovery. The minute, injurious animal organisms which 
may gain an entrance into our blood or tissues, bringing with 
them disease and death, have in a number of cases been checked 
and destroyed ; and it was mainly upon Pasteur's researches 
and upon the discovery of chloroform that modern surgery 
waited before it made its stupendous advance. 



1 66 THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. [May, 

Quite recently we have seen another discovery open the 
way to still further progress in medicine. The wonderful phe- 
nomena of the X rays, as they are sometimes called, have ren- 
dered many opaque objects transparent, and have allowed the 
surgeon to see where calcareous deposits and foreign metallic 
substances may be hidden in the body. We owe the discovery 
of these mysterious rays to William Konrad Roentgen, profes- 
sor of physics at Wiirzburg, Germany. For many years he. had 
made a special study of phenomena which spring from the ac- 
tion of electric currents in glass tubes exhausted of air and 
known as Crookes, or vacuum, tubes. He found that the rays 
emanating from a Crookes tube, excited by an electric current, 
produced an effect in many ways like the effect produced by 
ordinary rays of light, yet with this singular difference, viz., 
that they would penetrate certain substances which ordinary 
light rays do not penetrate. Like electricity, these rays are in- 
visible and are recognized only by their effects. Their exact 
nature we do not know, and hence the name of X, or unknown, 
rays given to them by their discoverer. There is a high proba- 
bility, however, that they are transverse vibrations in the ether, 
but of vastly shorter wave-lengths than the vibrations of ordi- 
nary light rays. And they differ from ordinary light rays in the 
fact that they cannot be deflected or refracted or brought to a 
focus : they proceed only in straight lines. Let us add that 
the picture of the object which we obtain through the X rays 
is not, strictly speaking, a photograph, although developed in 
the same manner ; the picture (or radiograph, as it is called) is 
a shadow-picture of the object. 

But, great as has been the progress in medicine during the 
past hundred years, we may confidently look for still greater 
progress in the not distant future through the solution of the 
great problem of immunity and its practical corollary, artificial 
immunization (the new doctrine of antitoxins), as well as 
through a profounder study of cellular pathology, with which 
Professor Rudolph Virchow's name is closely associated. This 
eminent German biologist tells us, after long observation and 
experiment, that we must give up the idea that highly organ- 
ized living things are units ; they are organisms each constitu- 
ent part of which has its own special life. Ultimate anal} sis 
of higher animals brings us to the cell, which is composed of 
chemical substances not in themselves alive. The organism, ac- 
cording to Virchow, is not an individual but a social mechanism ; 
as a nation is to its citizens so is man to his cells. The 



1899-] THE CENTURY'S PROGRESS IN SCIENCE. ' 167 

cells are the factors of existence ; all life comes from antece- 
dent life ; every cell springs from another cell. And while he 
admits that many diseases are caused by invading microbes, he 
maintains that microbes apart disease is due to the inherited 
properties of the cells of the organ affected. And in the treat- 
ment of disease we should strive to affect the cells. 

Here we end our review of what science has accomplished 
in this wonderful century. But before we dismiss the subject 
let us ask what may have been the century's note its distin- 
guishing mark? To our mind it has been its closer touch with 
nature ; it has looked more to achievement than to sterile rheto- 
ric ; it has seen, with the monk Roger Bacon, that it is only 
by observation and experiment that we can pass the golden 
gateway which leads into the domain of the physical sciences. 
And while our century has not denied to tradition its due 
value, it has refused to let tradition lay too heavy a hand on 
freedom and originality of thought. It has aimed, as never be- 
fore, to trace phenomena to their sources, and the study of 
Origins is leading to a revolution in our conception of every 
branch of study. But having said this, we may add that the 
truly great and wise among us recognize how little we know 
compared to what there is to be known. We recognize that 
we are finite minds attempting infinite problems, and in the 
words of one of the profoundest thinkers of our time on the 
Philosophy of Science, we say:* "From science modestly pur- 
sued, with a due consciousness of the extreme finitude of our 
intellectual powers, there can arise only nobler and wider no- 
tions of the purpose of creation. . . . Our science will not 
deny the existence of things because they cannot be weighed 
and measured. It will rather lead us to believe that the won- 
ders and subtleties of possible existence surpass all that our 
mental powers allow us clearly to perceive." 

*W. Stanley Jevons, The Principles of Science, vol. ii. page 468. 



m 










St. Catherine of Siena. 

HER carved semblance hangs upon my wall: 
The meek-bowed head within the halo wide, 
The pierced hands folded o'er the wounded side; 

Against her breast the lily petals fall, 

Herself a fragile lily, pale and tall, 

Siena's old-time Saint and present pride : 
A face not beautiful, but calm, clear-eyed 

To look through visions to the heart of all. 




O Caterina, thon whose simply feet 

To lowly needs in loving service bent, 

Trod life's plain ways, whence came thy skill to move 

The destiny of states with influence sweet ? 

A messenger of peace from heaven sent 

With serpent's wisdom in the harmless dove ! 

CAROLYN SAGE. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORENCE. 



[May, 



RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORENCE. 




BY E. McAULIFFE. 

" The rills that glitter down the grassy slope 
Of Casentino, making fresh and soft 
The banks whereby they glide to Arno's stream, 
Stand ever in my view." Dante. 

" Florence, within her ancient limit mark, 
Which calls her still to matin prayers and noon, 
Was chaste and sober, and abode in peace." Ibid. 

E had our first experience of Italian life in Flor- 
ence, where we took a suite of rooms in a private 
tamily. Our rooms fronted on a sunny square 
opposite the Pitti Palace, and not far from Casa 
Guidi ; we had those beautiful windows before 
us, which Ruskin says are the finest in Europe ; we had a view 
of the Boboli gardens, which I think the most beautiful in 
Italy, and of the Fortezza Belvidere, a fortress which stands 
on the summit of the hill, behind the gardens and overlooking 
them. The first sound we heard on awakening in the morning 
was the bugle call, the first sight that greeted our eyes was the 
regimental drill in the camp-field, where the men looked as 
though they were exercising in the clouds. Then followed the 
march down the winding paths to the city, with pennons wav- 
ing and lances glittering in the sun. 

But it was not alone the exterior attractions that pleased 
us so much ; it was beyond all else the sweet, pious interior. 
The family consisted of a young widow, beautiful and not at 
all conscious of it ; not learned, 

" Save in gracious household ways "; 

and a little child of four years, whose prattle was a continual 
Italian lesson. We encouraged her to visit us; so her mother 
brought her in for one or two hours every evening after dinner. 
Little Adelina's first care was to instruct us in our religion. 
She commenced by asking us if we were Christians ; we an- 
swered in the affirmative, but she shook her head incredulously, 
saying : " Forestieri non sono Cristiani, tutti sono eretici " 
(Foreigners are not Christians ; they are all heretics). Then she 



1 899.] 



RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORENCE. 



171 




"LINGERING UNDER ARCADES FILLED WITH THE WORK OF FRA ANGELICO." 

ordered us to " segna " (make the sign of the cross). We asked 
her to teach us ho\v ; then she took the right hand of each in 
turn, and taught us how. Next she brought a prayer-book, 
and, opening it at a picture of the crucifixion, told us the history 
of our redemption, and then held it up to each one's lips to 
be kissed. After which she would kiss us herself, and say 
" brave bambine " (good children). 

Now, there was a considerable distance to be traversed 
from my rooms to those occupied by the family ; the house 
was immense and old-fashioned, built around a square central 
court, which was not lit by gas, or in any other way. When 
it was time to leave, Donna Louisa lighted her lamp, and it was 
an art study to watch the little group going down the long, 
gloomy passage ; Adelina skipping like a fawn beside her grace- 
ful young mother, who carried in her hand the antique Etrus- 
can lamp which shed its little halo of light around them ; it 
was like a picture from the illuminated border of an old manu- 
script. 

Our mornings were spent in the churches; the monasteries, 
art galleries, museums, etc., occupied the afternoons, besides 
many expeditions outside the walls. Even at this distance of 



1/2 RECOLLEC7'10NS OF FLORENCE. [May, 

time the memory of those days of ecstasy makes my pulses 
throb : Santa Maria Novella, where St. Dominic preached ; 
Santa Croce, full of the spirit of St. Francis ; San Marco 
what hours of delight we spent in those cloisters ! lingering 
under arcades filled with the work of Fra Angelico, of whom 
Ruskin says : " A man who smiled seldom, wept often, prayed 
constantly, and never harbored an impure thought. His pic- 
tures are simply so many pieces of jewelry." We saw those 
massive books of which Longfellow speaks in repelling the 
aspersions cast by Protestant writers on the monks of the mid- 
dle ages : " That they slept their lives away is most untrue. 
For, in an age when books were few, so few, so precious, that 
they were often chained to their oaken shelves with iron chains, 
like galley slaves to their benches these men, with their labori- 
ous hands, copied upon parchment all the lore and wisdom of 
the past, and transmitted it to us. Perhaps it is not too much 
to say that, but for these monks, not one line of the classics 
would have reached our day." 

We visited the Certosa, in the beautiful Val d'Eura, and 
saw the remnant of a once numerous community, a few aged 
men in the white robes of their order. This is one of the sup- 
pressed monasteries. The government makes money out of it 
by taxing visitors; United Italy makes quite a revenue out of 
the sacred shrines and places of pilgrimage all over the op- 
pressed land. 

One of our favorite walks was up the narrow, steep road to 
San Miniato, where a deed of grace was accomplished centuries 
ago. Giovanni Gualberto, a young knight belonging to a noble 
family, was descending the hill on Good Friday, after Mass. 
He had been strongly wrestling with himself that morning, be- 
cause a beloved brother had been cruelly slain and vengeance 
was in his heart. Now, however, he was calmed by prayer, 
and in a better frame of mind, when midway on the hill he 
met the slayer face to face. All his good resolutions vanished ; 
like a flash of lightning his sword was out and raised to strike, 
when the offender, falling on his knees, besought him, for the 
sake of Him who died on that day, to spare and pardon him. 
Gualberto sheathed his sword, but never returned to his ances- 
tral home. Filled with horror at himself for the crime he was 
so near committing, he sought the desolate heights of Vallom- 
brosa, where he founded a monastery of the most austere rule, 
and soon gathered about him a number of holy men. He lived 
here a life of great sanctity, and was canonized after his death. 



1 899.] 



RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORENCE. 



'73 




" THE REMNANT OF A ONCE NUMEROUS COMMUNITY, A FEW AGED MEN IN THE 
WHITE ROBES OF THEIR ORDER." 

Alluding to such foundations, Bulwer writes : " There was a 
certain vastness of mind in the adoption of utter solitude, in 
which the first enthusiasts of our religion indulged. The remote 
desert, the solitary rock, the rude dwelling hollowed from the 
cave, ... all make a picture of severe and preternatural 
grandeur." On the very spot where this noble victory over 
self was achieved, on the hill-side at San Miniato, a fine fresco, 
in good preservation, perpetuates its memory. It represents 



i/4 RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORENCE. [May, 

the knight standing and sheathing his sword, while his foe 
kneels at his feet, with hands raised in an attitude of supplica- 
tion. 

The cloisters of Vallombrosa are now deserted, except by 
a few aged monks who show the place to strangers. When 
they die, their places will not be filled by religious. Thus goes 
on the work of de-Christianizing the land. 

In spite of religious persecution and infidel rulers, there 
exists in Florence to-day one of the greatest and most useful 
religious societies in the world. I speak of the " Misericordia." 
This extraordinary society was founded in the thirteenth cen- 
tury, and has gone on extending its labors, insomuch that it 
still possesses the vigor of youth. The members are all men : 
laborers, mechanics, men of business, bankers, nobles, even the 
grand dukes have not disdained membership. A certain num- 
ber are appointed for each day's work ; the tolling of a bell 
gives notice when and where they are wanted, like our old sys- 
tem of fire-bells. They are called for all accidents, they bring 
the injured to the hospitals ; they visit the sick and the needy 
in their homes, provide nurses when necessary, and all comforts 
that the sick require ; and they bury the dead. For all this no 
pay is received or thought of; it is pure charity, unostentatious 
charity, for the recipients only know them as " brothers of the 
Misericordia " ; their faces, when in the discharge of their good 
works, are never seen. Every brother wears a black domino, 
with holes to accommodate his eyes, thus keeping literally the 
Gospel precept of not letting his left hand know what his right 
hand doeth. Boxes, labelled "For the Misericordia," are 
placed in different parts of the city, and the alms collected in 
these boxes, together with private donations, comprise their 
entire revenue. 

In Italy funerals generally take pake at night, and it is a 
weird and thrilling sight to see the long procession of black 
dominoes winding through a narrow street by torchlight, and 
chanting the psalms that compose the office for the dead. In 
funerals of the poor they dispense with a hearse, and the mem- 
bers bear the coffin (generally covered with flowers) on their 
shoulders to a chapel near the cemetery, where it is left for 
the night and quietly buried next morning, none but relatives 
attending. White dominoes are worn in processions of the 
Blessed Sacrament. Every Sunday morning, at the early Masses, 
when the priest has finished giving Communion to all who ap- 
proach the altar, he descends the steps bearing the ciborium, 



1 899.] 



RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORENCE. 



175 



and passes down the aisle and into the street, and so on to 
the houses of all who have sent notice that they are unable, 
through sickness or infirmity, to come to the church. A band 
of the Misericordia accompanies the priest. One goes in 
front, ringing the little bell ; four carry the small canopy over 
the Blessed Sacrament, others following, all chanting as they 
go. Many persons join the ranks through devotion, and even 




CAMPANILE AND CATHEDRAL, FLORENCE. 

go into the sick person's room, or kneel on the landing if the 
room is crowded, while the holy rites are being administered. 
As the priest, bearing his sacred burden, passes through the 
streets all who meet him kneel, except those unhappy ones 
who know no God but United Italy. On week-days this devo- 
tion is more noticeable, as there are more people in the streets, 
and they are mostly intent on business. Once I saw a poor 
bill-poster who was on the top of a ladder when he heard the 
bell, and he hurried down at the risk of breaking his neck, in 
order to be in time to kneel as the Santissimo passed. The 
Society of the Misericordia is highly reverenced by all creeds 
and classes. I have never heard it sneered at or ridiculed by 
our brethren outside the church. 



176 RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORENCE. [May, 

Another wonderful Florentine custom is that of keeping 
lamps burning before holy pictures in their places of business, 
thus placing religion above all. The picture is attached to the 
wall, near the ceiling, at the end of the store, so that when the 
lamp is lit it can be seen from the street. As you pass through 
a street at nightfall they are like so many stars, glimmering 
through the gloom before the gas is lighted. We used to buy 
fruit from a young man who kept a little shop close to one of 
the bridges (Ponte Santa Trinita) ; he was very handsome and 
polite, and a good father to his little family. One day, on going 
into the store, I noticed that Auguste was in a state of pleased 
excitement. After he had received my order and selected 
for me his best fruit, he took down from a shelf a long roll, 
which on unrolling proved to be a brand-new print of the 
Madonna. He looked at the bright hues of the picture in per- 
fect ecstasy ; then at me, saying : <4 Bella, signora, non e vero ? " 
(Is it not beautiful, madam ?) The picture which hung above 
the lamp was faded and smoky, and this was to take its place. 
Of course I admired it immensely, and applauded him for his 
devotion to the Blessed Mother. There is another store, near 
the Mercato Vecchio, a very fashionable establishment for fine 
handkerchiefs, laces, and white goods in general, where the 
proprietor sends out all packages wrapped in the sheets of a 
religious newspaper ; no other kind of paper is used ; and this 
is done with the pious intention of enlightening the heretics. 
These are the really good Italians, for there is not the slight- 
est doubt that such things stand against them in a business 
way. 

Christmas came, and all Florence poured into the churches 
for the novena. The chapel of the royal palace opposite our 
house was opened to the public for the occasion, and we went 
every evening with the family, to which were added two grand- 
fathers and a beautiful young aunt (Zia), who was sister to 
my little landlady. When the eve of Natale (Christmas) came 
we went with them to midnight Mass, in the Cathedral of Santa 
Maria del Fiore. I felt, with the Ancient Mariner : 

" O sweeter than the marriage feast, 

'Tis sweeter far to me, 
To walk together to the kirk 
With a goodly company ! " 

But we were more favored than the Ancient Mariner, for we 



RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORENCE. 



177 



had the " wedding feast." Adelina, the little gossip, had told 
us how Signer Alberto came every evening and stayed with 
Zia and Nonno (grandpa) talking ; and so it happened that there 
was a wedding soon after Christmas, and Zia was the bride 
and Signor Alberto the bridegroom. This is a digression ; to 
return to my subject. 

I have seen Florence under many aspects, but never so 




PORTA ST. NICOLA, FLORENCE. 

beautiful as on that starry Christmas eve. All the ways that 
led to the cathedral were crowded ; none but the sick stayed at 
home. There were no disorderly characters abroad ; " silent 
and devout," like the spirits whom Dante met, they wended 
their way past the marvels of art in the streets and squares, 
past the Baptistery gates, past San Michele, past Giotto'* 
tower, not giving a thought to art ; all minds intent on one 
subject only: the Divine Inspirer of all art. As the clock 

VOL. LXIX. 12 



i/8 RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORENCE. [May, 

strikes the hour of midnight, the priest standing, vested, at the 
foot of the altar, a silken screen is suddenly withdrawn, which 
reveals a little waxen image of a new-born babe in front of the 
tabernacle. A low murmur of love and adoration runs through 
the multitude, which is quickly hushed as the Mass begins. 
Numbers approach the holy table. In such scenes one feels 
as though heaven was not so far off. At the close of the 
ceremonies the scene changes ; we are on earth again. In the 
streets now the crowd is all joy and gladness. Christmas wishes 
are interchanged, the restaurants are opened, the people pour- 
ing into them for early breakfast whole families have come 
from a distance, and remain up all night in order to attend 
the four o'clock Mass, before returning to their homes in the 

distant hills. 

^ 

How pleasant it was to hear on all sides the soft Tuscan 
tongue ! We had drifted quite out of the region where English 
prevailed. It is a curious thing that the most perfect lan- 
guage, language grammatically correct, is spoken intuitively by 
all, even the uneducated. The maid who waited on us, and 
who was neither refined nor delicate in appearance being, on 
the contrary, rather coarse and masculine used the most beauti- 
ful forms of expression. I never asked her a question without 
being astonished at the poetic imagery of her ""reply. One 
evening, when she came in to light the lamps, I asked : " Is it 
raining, Annunziata ? " " No, signora," she replied, " il cielo e 
sereno e stellato " (the sky is serene and starry). 5 Listening to 
the music of the bella lingua was an unceasing delight ; receiv. 
ing the parting wishes at night, for instance : " Felice notte alle, 
signore," " Felicissima notte," " Buon riposo," " Buoni sogni " 
a rippling stream of graceful words that left the hearers re- 
freshed by its sweetness. 

The Tuscans are essentially religious and good ; all their 
faults may be attributed to misgovernment. They forgot the 
admonitions of St. Catherine, who wrote such stirring epistles 
to them in her day : " Is it not better to remain united to our 
own father and mother (the Pope and the holy Church) than 
to a tyrannical government ? Better to lean on a strong pillar 
(which, though shaken by persecution, is not broken) than on 
a straw, that we are certain will be blown down by the first 
gust of wind ? '* There is no nation so crushed and over- 
burdened by taxation as the Italian. United Italy devours her 
offspring ; it is a modern Minotaur ! The oppressed people fly 
to our friendly shores, but many have lost their faith, and the 



RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORENCE. 

Masonic lodge has done its work of destruction. Freemasons 
an-d Jews rule the kingdom, hence the temptation to youth; 
there is no promotion in army, navy, or civil service unless at 
the cost of religion. Knowing all this, the real piety which I 
witnessed was most gratifying, because it involves a kind of 
martyrdom. 

We were in the habit of going to Rome always for Lent, 
but the last year we were in Italy we kept Lent in Florence. 




PANORAMA FROM PORTA ST. NICOLA. 

The ceremonies of Holy Week were well attended. On Holy 
Thursday the shops were all shut, and the churches filled. On 
the afternoon of that day the crucifix is laid on the steps of a 
side altar, so that every one may adore the sacred wounds, 
and an unceasing stream of people perform that act of homage. 
Whole companies of soldiers especially interested me ; they were 
young and still true to their faith. On Good Friday, and until 
noon of Holy Saturday, all business is suspended. A very in- 



i So 



RECOLLECTIONS OF FLORENCE. 



[May, 



teresting ceremony is performed in connection with the new 
fire on Holy Saturday. The flint used is a piece that a zealous 
young knight of the Pazzi family chopped off from the Holy 
Sepulchre with his battle-axe, at the time of the Crusades, 
and brought in triumph to his native city, where it was 
received with great veneration and guarded among the trea- 
sures of the cathedral. The palace of the family is opposite 
the cathedral, and the Pazzis always bear the expense of 
the Holy Saturday pageant. An immense car, drawn by four 
large, beautiful white oxen (all decorated with ribbons and 
flowers, their horns gilded, and chains of roses around their 
necks), stands on the square, in front of the main entrance of 
the cathedral. The car is loaded with fireworks, and when the 
new fire is struck, a dove, bearing in his bill a taper kindled 
from it, flies down the central aisle, across the square, and 
drops the taper into the car, which at once explodes with a 
tremendous noise, to the great delight of thousands of country 
people, who have waited for this since early morning. This is 
called the scoppio del carro. At the same moment all the bells 
ring out, and Lent is over. 

"Vet, Italy! . . . 
Parent of our religion ! whom the wide 
Nations have knelt to for the Keys of Heaven ! 
Europe, repentant of her parricide, 
Shall yet redeem thee, and, all backward driven, 
Roll the barbarian tide, and sue to be forgiven." 

Byron. 





CYRANO DE BERGERAC. 181 

CYRANO DE BERGERAC.* 

BY REV. GEORGE McDERMOT, C.S.P. 

ROSTAND recalls by the title of this play the 
name of a dramatist almost forgotten. Yet Ber- 
gerac was a noted character in his day, and the 
impress of his literary work survives in one of 
the classics of the English language, Gulliver's 
Travels. Notorious as a duellist, we have him in the work before 
us reckless and defiant, but more than this, he is put before us 
as one imbued with a spirit of knight-errantry, vaunting and 
exaggerated in its own way as that satirized by Cervantes. He 
is at war with meanness, sycophancy, dishonesty, the courtier's 
unscrupulous ambition, the churchman's complacency to power. 
These are the dragons, giants, and wizards of the new Don 
Quixote. 

The opening and the main part of the action are fixed in 
the year 1640, but the influences belong to the age of Louis 
XIV. It was not till the year 1645 that the fashionable world 
flocked to the College Royal to hear Gassendi lecture on 
astronomy, but we find the word Gassendist a commonplace of 
our play. Though we hear of the great Cardinal, the lights 
and shadows are of the era of the Great King. With a pre- 
cise knowledge of the history of Preach dramatic literature, he 
lays the first scene in the Hotel de Bourgogne, but we venture 
to say that neither the Prtcieuses nor the wits and fops who paid 
court to them at the Hotel de Rambouillet, ever witnessed any- 
thing which for softness, delicacy, boldness, and invention ap- 
proached the work of M. Rostand. There are hints which 
make us think he is unjust to Moliere, but of this anon. 

The stage directions are very full, but invaluable as acces- 
sorial stimulants to the imagination. We are in the hall of 
the Hotel de Bourgogne, a sort of tennis-court arranged for 
the production of a play. In this play the whole first act pro- 
ceeds, and the spectators have before them the very form and 
manner of the time when the reckless spirit of the days of the 
Fronde were blending into the pride and authority which so 
mark the era of Louis XIV. from the moment he emancipated 

* Cyrano de Bergerac. A play in five acts. By Edmond Rostand. 



1 82 CYRANO DE BERGERAC. [May, 

himself from tutelage. The anachronism of a few years so 
we read it is nothing ; it is the living force, the intense vital- 
ity we look at. Action, thought, humor, fire, frenzy, folly, 
play before us, and yet we are conscious of an invisible pres- 
ence called the Cardinal, but to us it seems the majesty of 
Louis, which awed while it inspired all classes from the great 
noble to the roturier. 

The Burgher, in answer to his son's question, while they are 
waiting for the play within the play, " Is the Academy here? " 
says, " Oh, ay ! I see several of them all names that will live." 
Among them he mentions Bourdon, who was not born until 
1638 ; so that he was just two years old when our friend was 
classing him among the Immortals. But is there not a truth 
of time, a dramatic truth, superior to the calendar ? And it is 
vindicated by the next interlocution, we should think. First 
Marquis : " Here come our Precieuses," etc.; and he gives an 
account of them. 

In passing we may say that the translation by Gladys 
Thomas and Mary F. Guillemard is sprightly in the comic 
parts, notwithstanding the difficulty of turning into English the 
subtleties of French pleasantry. We can give no better proof 
of this than the opinion of judicious critics that all attempts 
to render the shades of Moliere's humor into English verse have 
failed. It is said that the imitations or paraphrases in the 
plays of Sheridan are without the latter's own sparkle or the 
slyness of Moliere. If this be true in the main, we say a great 
deal for the translation of the work before us. Yet there is a 
delicacy in the following passage not caught in the translation. 
The admiring comments following the entrance of Roxane lead 
up to this one by the second Marquis : 

" Et si fraiche : 
Ou'on pourrait, 1'approchant, prendre un rhume de cceur!" 

is translated : " And what freshness ! A man approaching her 
too near might chance to get a bad chill at the heart ! " The 
play of the thought is lost. It really means the grapes hang 
too high; for she is compared to a peach smiling at a straw- 
berry in the preceding cue. 

We learn at this point that Roxane, the beauty who re- 
minds the first marquis of a peach smiling at a strawberry, is 
a cousin of Cyrano, for whom all are looking out eagerly. 
Cyrano has deadly skill of fence, and it is hoped by the young 
men that some way he will protect his cousin ; for there are 



i 899.] CYRANO DE BERGERAC. 183 

dangers ahead, some scandal such as might be expected when 
a noble of great influence, the Count de Guiche, shows an in- 
terest in Roxane. Christian, who is in love with her, has just 
heard that De Guiche intends a Viscount de Valvert shall marry 
her; for he is " triste " and " complaisant " and De Guiche 
is " puissant." A very odious idea, to be sure ; and on hear- 
ing Valvert called by De Guiche, Christian puts his hand into 
his pocket for a glove to throw at him, but finds there the 
hand of a pickpocket. The latter, who adds murder in the way 
of business to larceny, sends Christian off to warn Ligniere, a 
drunken friend of his, that a hundred assassins are to attack 
him, of whom he is one. The information may be relied upon, 
for the u distinguished-looking roue"," this Ligniere, has exposed 
the De Guiche cum Valvert plot in a song, and so made ene- 
mies in high places. 

The fun goes on in the play-theatre as in the theatre of a 
play. The wig of our friend the burgher is fished from the pit 
by a string, let down from the upper gallery by a page amid 
cries of delight when the bald crown is exposed, but a word, 
" the Cardinal," creeps through the house, and silence falls 
upon the wild pages above, whispering disgustedly that they 
must behave now. The curtain of the theatre on the stage 
rises, and we have the opening of the action when an actor, 
Montfleury, possibly the dramatist, begins the part of Phaedon 
in the play of the play-theatre. 

Montfleury has recited three lines of Phaedon's speech when 
a voice from the middle of the pit cries : " Villain ! did I not 
forbid you to show your face here for a month?" A friend 
recognizes it as the voice of Cyrano and is uneasy at the 
desperate hardihood of the interruption ; but the voice again 
is heard : " King of clowns ! Leave the stage this instant ! " 
Now the house gets excited and rises into moods of passion, 
various, interesting, weak, fierce, and appalling as the conflict- 
ing elements release themselves. The frightened actor is urged 
to continue by the crowd from all parts of the house as with 
increasing excitement it tries to quell Cyrano, whose sang- 
froid amid it all seems more terrible than the fury of the mass. 
We are reminded of one scene like it in real life, but whether 
M. Rostand had it in his mind or not we do not know ; and 
that is when Mirabeau tamed for one immortal instant the 
National Assembly, maddened at what it called his great trea- 
son, or rather the " Great Treason of Mirabeau," when with 
his influence fled the last hope for the monarchy. 



184 CYRANO DE BERGERAC. [May, 

The opposition to Montfleury is too pointed not to mean a 
hit at La Vengeance des Marquis and Ulmpromptu de r Hotel dt 
Monde. In the time at which we hold the play is placed the 
attack might also be on " Scaramouch " (Torelli), the manage] 
of the Italian farce-company; at present it may represent the 
revolt of purity of thought and taste against the school which 
has been debasing the mind and heart of France since Balzac 
entered on the inauspicious reign which prepared for the cor- 
rupt hour of Zola and the oligarchy of the morgue and- the 
stews. The actor has to leave the stage and Valvert takes up 
the quarrel, which he begins by an insulting reference to Cyra- 
no's nose, which was a portentous feature like that of Glorieux. 
How to insult himself about his nose Cyrano tells Valvert in 
a speech that may be compared with Touchstone's. The duel 
begins, Cyrano composing a lyrical account of what he intends 
to do to the rhythm of the passes : 

" At the envoi's end I touch." 

Very fanciful this and possibly Gascon-like. 

There is later on a balcony-scene in which Christian, prompt- 
ed by Cyrano, makes love to Roxane. By and by the prompter 
in the darkness assumes his principal's place, but acting for 
the latter. This seems rather absurd on the bald statement, 
and yet how is it that we hardly take into account the decep- 
tion or the grotesqueness ? Don Giovanni sheltering himself 
behind Leporello is in his element ; but the hero Cyrano, the 
purger of the stage and the man of lofty ideals, is rather out 
of his role in such a performance. Yet we think the incongru- 
ity of circumstance and character, together with our insensibil- 
ity to it, can be explained by the greatness of the sacrifice 
Cyrano makes for love. We go at once with Romeo's submis- 
sion to the insults of Tybalt and Cyrano's to those of Chris- 
tian because of his promise to Roxane to watch over the 
favored lover. This is the first step, the laying down a soldier's 
and a Gascon's pride. Any act of self-effacement becomes in- 
telligible after this ; so we are prepared for the putting at his 
rival's service fancy, passion, purity of soul, and the high pur- 
poses which made him a Don Quixote without a craze. The 
extravagance of sentiment woven into his mental texture and 
the majesty of his self-extinction saved the conception from 
passing to the ridiculous. It was a perilous enterprise, but 
M. Rostand has a love for the difficult. It is this hardihood 
of temperament which will doubtless produce the new variety 



1899-] CYRANO DE BERGERAC. 185 

in literature, as M. Brunetiere would say, on the analogy 
of natural selection. In any case an act of heroism wins 
one ; and admiration is not diminished when the heroism 
means the tragedy of a life. The most that can be said in 
criticism of this balcony incident is that Cyrano failed to esti- 
mate the true proportions between sacrifice and duty. He lied, 
but the lie was the laying down of his happiness for the woman 
he loved. 

Christian, who was a very dull lover, had disgusted the 
Prcieuse Roxane by his want of eloquence. He was exceed- 
ingly handsome, but his tongue was a non-conductor of the 
electricity within. A pebble is thrown at her window. She 
comes out and asks, "Who is that?" He replies, "Christian." 
She (disdainfully), "Oh! you?" So. far this is rather like bur- 
lesque, but he says : " I would speak with you." She : " No ; 
you speak stupidly." Then Cyrano prompts, but Christian halts 
in repeating the words supplied to him, as might be expected. 
However, she recognizes an improvement ; for she was about 
to shut the window. Instead she pauses and says : 

" Hold ! 'tis a trifle better ! ay a trifle." 

This is severe, but there is some encouragement in it ; and 
Christian proceeds with such energy as he can command : 

" Love grew apace, rocked by the anxious beating 
Of this poor heart, which the cruel wanton boy 
Took for a cradle ! " 

and so on ; his fancy, or rather his prompter's manifesting pas- 
sion in conceits of a rather commonplace character.* She 
remarks the faltering of the words, and asks has palsy seized 
on his imagination, whereupon Cyrano steps into his place and 
pours out his passion with great fire and energy. There is 
such an improvement that she proposes Prcieuse that she is !- 
to go down to join him below. Cyrano, not wishing the plot 
to be discovered, objects; then she suggests his climbing to 
the balcony, and is most naturally amazed at his refusal. But 
gradually the fencing of their wits gives way in Cyrano to a 
passion rising like the waves of the sea and sweeps away her 
spirit by its force. It is his own love he pours out, though 
in the standing-place of Christian ; his own soul that declares 
its frenzy, its wishes, its unselfishness and despair. Here we 
have the enchantment which puts away the paltry imposition 

*The translation is excellent here. 



1 86 CYRANO DE BERGERAC. [May, 

from our minds and leaves us only with a love boundless as 
the sea and the surrender to another of all it asks, feeling rich 
in the memory which it consecrates : 

" Ah ! que pour ton bonheur je donnerais le mien, 
Quand meme tu devrais n'en savoir jamais rien, 
S'il se pouvait, parfois, que de loin, j'entendisse 
Rire un peu le bonheur ne de mon sacrifice ! " 

We pass over the scene in which a friar, ignorant of the 
purport of a letter from De Guiche, presents it to Roxane, 
and the manner she prevails on him to marry her to Christian. 
Cyrano has undertaken to keep De Guiche in play during the 
quarter of an hour the marriage ceremony is being performed. 
This scene is admirable, and perhaps in it, more than in the 
reckless, flashing, fighting ones, the true Gascon character 
comes out. The early princes of the House of Bourbon had a 
liking for this bragging, harebrained, witty, shrewd people. A 
Gascon was the captain of the king's mousquetaires under 
Louis XIII., and another the D'Artagnan who shakes hands 
with Cyrano after his song-duel was captain in the reign of 
the Great King himself. We have a notion that some one says 
the Scotch were the Gascons of England well, in the play 
Cyrano flung down his purse to compensate the manager for 
driving Montfleury from the stage, but if this munificence be 
characteristic of Gascons, the saying quoted is " gasconade " of 
another and a tolerably bold description. However, in the scene 
we have just referred to, Gascon meets Gascon, and Cyrano's 
lies (scientific ones, Munchausen-like and immense) take in De 
Guiche, and this result having regard to circumstances and 
coloring so far from violating probability, possesses dramatic 
propriety of a kind which marks out the author as a playwright 
of no common skill. 

At the siege of Arras Cyrano has the chance to guard over 
Christian, now the husband of Roxane. The Cadets of Gas- 
cony is the title of Act IV., and the poor fellows are sleeping 
their hunger off. We note when Le Bret swears " Mordious ! ' 
Carbon tells him : " Curse under his breath," from which re- 
quest we have new testimony to a practice which seems t< 

*The translation of the entire speech beginning " Certes, ce sentiment," Act III. Sc. 
gives no idea of the force and delicacy of the original. " Entre les blues rameaux " 
translated "throned there in the branches." The purple of the night through which 
trembles among the branches, as "a leaf among the leaves," is the objective association 
the idea. 



1 899.] CYRANO DE BERGERAC. 187 

have prevailed in the army at different times and among dif- 
ferent nations. Mercutio tells us that when Queen Mab drums 
in a soldier's ear he starts and wakes, 

" And thus being frighted, swears a prayer or two," 

and on the authority of Sterne we have it that the troops swore 
horribly in Flanders. 

Firing is heard in the distance, and again, but nearer. 
Carbon, the officer in command, says : " Tis nothing ! Tis 
Cyrano coming back ! " We learn that at the risk of his life 
Cyrano takes letters at each day's dawn, the letters he prom- 
ised Roxane Christian should write her. The Cadets complain 
of hunger; Cyrano mocks them with what one of them calls 
pointed words. He opens with a speech to encourage them 
with the thought how much better it is to die like a soldier 
than on a bed of fever ; from each and all the cry : " I am 
hungry ! " He directs the piper to play old country airs and 
points out the associations they are to call up in a speech 
the insight of which may be compared in its influence on the 
memory with the fancifulness of Mercutio's just cited on the 
imagination. The stage direction ends in something like mock- 
ery et des larmes sont furtivement essuytes, avec un revers de 
manche, un coin de manteau but for all that the smoke-wreaths 
of home are in .the tones, the forest, the shepherd-boy, even- 
ing on the Dordogne River it was Gascony, their own land ; 
and so the hungry lads were moved deeply, their eyes had a 
far-off look as if dreaming, and the tears came. The idea 
wrought out so exquisitely is a familiar one, but it acts on the 
memory like Queen Mab's doings on the imagination. 

Roxane arrives in the camp by the aid of a most powerful 
dcus ex machina, or the superlative courtesy of Spanish war- 
riors. M. Rostand is really a magician, and makes us accept 
things which would cause Mr. Grant Allen or some such per- 
son to be set down as a liar beyond all credibility. This power 
may be explained by the proportion of things in the imagina- 
tion, the harmony of their relations to each other and the 
whole ; so that they constitute a thing consistent in itself and 
fitted to the condition of the mind which receives as well as 
that which creates it. How long minds working in such a 
realm will continue to produce works of originality or freshness 
is another question, nor is this the place to discuss it. It may be 
supposed that a mathematical or chemical exactness of corre- 
spondence between things and the ideas which represent them 



1 88 CYRANO DE BERGERAC. [May, 

has been sought by those who found works of the pure imag- 
ination were losing interest. The work before us is a return to 
the imaginative ; and surely this must be a truer art than that 
of the investigating and reporting method, if painting be in 
any sense truer than photography. It is imagination which 
lifts this man here and his passions to the universal and ideal ; 
so that we feel with him, if placed in Troy three thousand 
years ago, at least as acutely as if we read the dissection of 
his motives in the morning paper. From which perusal would 
the reader rise better instructed or more purified ? 

Roxane arrives at the camp en grande tenue. Stowed away 
in the carriage are the materials for a Vitellian feast. The 
starving Gascons are fed ; De Guiche, who is not in the play, 
is coming up ; everything is hidden away, but that seigneur 
brings with him eyes sharpened by hunger and a nose suscep- 
tible to vinous smells. He remarks the high color and im- 
proved appearance of the Gascons. He enviously accuses one 
of them of being drunk, but Cyrano attributes the thick speech 
and unsteady movement of the impeached hero to the empti- 
ness of his stomach. But the kindness of Roxane prompted 
her to pity De Guiche, and the remnants of the feast were set 
before him, to which he did justice. We suppose Mr. Burke is 
right when he says that hunger reduces the proudest man to 
the level of the most humble. The Spaniards make an attack 
upon the camp ; Christian falls. 

An interval of fifteen years elapses. The scene is the 
park of the Sisters of the Holy Cross in Paris. Roxane is a 
boarder in the convent ; the Count de Guiche, now Duke de 
Grammont, visits her. 

" The Duke : And you stay here still ever vainly fair, 

Ever in weeds ? 
" Roxane : Ever. 
" The Duke : Still faithful ? 
"Roxane: Still. 
" The Duke : Am I forgiven ? 
"Roxane: Ay, since I am here. (A pause.)" 

This introduction prepares for the full revelation of the 
sacrifice made by Cyrano. 

The reader learns that day by day he comes to cheer her 
with the news of the world outside. His own great grief is hid- 
den ; for her heart is with the dead, that love for a figment of the 






1899-] CYRANO DE BERGERAC. 189 

brain. It was the soul of Cyrano that had spoken to her ; the 
music of the passion was his. She had been attracted by the 
beauty of Christian, but the sentiment was burned out by the 
fire of a love high and intense poured by Cyrano that night 
beneath the balcony. We may say, in passing, there is noth- 
ing in common between that and the balcony-scene in " Romeo 
and Juliet," though the latter is recalled by it. We are 
tempted to contrast the two scenes ; it is enough to remark that 
whatever of delicacy and grace is to be found in M. Rostand's 
scene is in the accident of objective association, while the grace 
and delicacy of the " Romeo and Juliet " one are in the heart in- 
spiring and in turn purified by the fancy. 

And Cyrano bears his burden. The ills of life are nothing : 
destitution, enmity, all that marks a ruined career are not re- 
garded ; to see her smile at his simple talk, or incisive criticism, 
of men about the court repays him. The duke who has won 
the prizes of fame and fortune envies him, but with respect for 
his worth. He shows this by saying that none dare attack him, 
but many hate him. 

" Yesterday at the Queen's card-play 'twas said, 
1 That Cyrano may die by accident.' 
Let him stay in be prudent ! " 

The duke's warning was not without cause. A dastardly act 
strikes Cyrano to the ground a lackey's throwing on his head 
a large piece of wood as he passed beneath a window. This 
is kept from Roxane. Cyrano comes a little later than usual ; 
she does not observe how pale and weak he is and that he 
totters to a chair, but says : . 

11 Late ! For the first time all these fourteen years ! " 

He makes excuses, banters her about the Penelope web she 
has been so long engaged on : " Beshrew me if my eyes will 
ever see it finished ! " 

Roxane : 

" I was sure 
To hear that well-known jest ! " 

He sees the leaves falling, and they naturally suggest sad 
and solemn thoughts to a man who feels the hand of death 
upon him. He makes an effort to break from this train of 
thought and play the role of her court-calendar so she called 
him but almost swoons. She runs forward with a cry ; he 
tells her it is nothing his old wound ; she speaks of the wound 



190 CYRANO DE BERGERAC. [May, 

she carries in her heart over her heart the last letter of Chris- 
tian, now faded. He reminds her of her promise to let him 
read it before his death. She hands him the old faded letter, 
stained by the writer's tears. He reads it, though the evening 
light has changed to darkness, as if he knew it by heart, and 
reads in such a tone that a chord in her memory is struck and 
she recognizes the voice which had so passionately pleaded be- 
neath the balcony. It was he who had written all the letters 
from the camp, he whose soul went out in that scene and sub- 
dued her soul. Christian was a mere statue now in her mind. 

With a resignation almost cynical, he admits it all. " Look 
you," he says, " it was my life to be the prompter every one 
forgets. ... I pay my tribute with the rest to Moliere's 
genius Christian's fair face." 

It seems that M. Rostand thinks Moliere was a crow decked 
in others' feathers, as the enemies of Shakspere said of him. 
But the play closes with a wild burst of madness on the part 
of Cyrano. With drawn sword he challenges his old enemies 
Falsehood, Compromise, Prejudice, Treachery ; the sword drops 
from his hand, he falls back into the arms of the bystanders ; 
Roxane kisses his forehead ; opening his eyes, he recognizes her, 
and dies with that kiss the plume* upon his brow, the guerdon 
of his knight-errantry. 

We have not the space to examine the allusions to the stage 
of Louis XIV.'s time, but they peep out here and there with 
the malice or appreciation of a man then living and sore at, or 
pleased with, his contemporaries. We confess to just a little 
surprise about the estimate of Moliere ; it is a very mixed one, 
and for that reason far from just. If the satire on court pre- 
lates and time-serving churchmen which Moliere allows from 
time to time to appear in his plays, and the whole concentrated 
essence of which is boiled into "Tartuffe," is considered dishonest 
by M. Rostand, why does he himself bring out the suspicion of 
an evil influence on the part of Count de Guiche over his un- 
cle the Cardinal, and the employment of a friar as the messen- 
ger in a plot which calls to mind a little too much of the 
cynical if not suggestive wit of the seventeenth century. Does 
he think his play would lack flavor if this were absent ? 

* The translators make him say " My panache," but the words "mon panache" really 
mean that that kiss was the victor's plume won by the devotion of a life. 




1899-] CATHOLIC CHURCH ARCHITECTURE. 191 

CATHOLIC CHURCH ARCHITECTURE. 

BY W. H. McGINTY. 

HE artistic feeling which actuates every refined 
and educated person is, at this time, appealing 
to the Catholic Church for the better and more 
intelligent use of her superior talents in church 
building. The noble examples of the past, 
from the basilica through the different periods of Romanesque, 
Byzantine, or Eastern Christian style, through the rise, develop- 
ment, and perfection of that period of Gothic or Western Chris- 
tian style down to the modern or copying period, the Catholic 
Church has put the greatest attainable talents into the building 
of her churches. Architect, builder, sculptor, painter, each in his 
turn has strained every nerve to accomplish the best that was 
in him in honor of the house of God. 

The world's architecture is the world's history. So also church 
architecture is' church history, and in no way is the record of 
the progress of the Catholic Church more truly written or more 
easily read than in the sacred edifices from the dawn of his- 
tory in Europe to the erection of the facade of the cathedral 
at Milan. The American architect who would, a few years 
ago, break away from the local examples set so profusely be- 
fore him and start out with some fine specimen of Gothic 
style like St. Patrick's in New York or the classical Philadel- 
phia cathedral as a model, would be looked upon as having 
questionable judgment. 

The time is here, however, when good taste and pure detail, 
combined with an intelligent distribution of floor space, has 
superseded "constructed ornament" consisting of adjuncts as 
useless as unnecessary; the lack of judgment resulting in poor 
acoustic properties; the sacrificing of pew space to sanctuary; 
ignoring ventilation and those numerous other elements which 
go to make up a successful church. 

We are at the beginning of an age which will exemplify 
the beauties of simplicity. Gaudiness and arrogant superfluity 
will have no home in the time into which the wheels of progress 
have carried us. The Catholic Church should now, as in the 
great past, take the lead in this artistic development. It should 



192 



CATHOLIC CHURCH ARCHITECTURE. 



[May, 




CATHOLIC CHURCH ARCHITECTURE. 



193 



encourage the 
budding talent 
throughout the 
country, using the 
broadened experi- 
ence and increased 
knowledge in per- 
fecting Catholic 
church-bu i Id i ng 
work. 

THE ELEMENTS OF 
ARCHITECTURE. 

The three ele- 
ments entering in- 
to architecture 
have been called, 
by an eminent his- 
torian, the ^Esthe- 
tic, Technic, and 
Phonetic. We 
shall interpret 
these elements to 
mean, in church 
building, Design, 
Construction, and 
Decoration. 

Without doubt 
the strict obser- 
vance of the first 
great rule of de- 
sign (that nothing 
can be ornamental 
which is not use- 
ful) would beget 
splendid architec- 
ture. 

It does away at once with all those needless, meaningless, 
and useless adjuncts which are nailed on and painted on to the 
exterior as well as the interior of our churches, and which 
please only the untrained eye, while they shock the sensibilities 
of true feeling. Whatever is useful can, however, be made 
ornamental, and by studying how best to ornament our con- 
VOL. LXIX. 13 




CHAPEL ON EAST OF CHOIR, MONREALE CATHEDRAL. 



194 CATHOLIC CHURCH ARCHITECTURE. [May, 

struction with chaste carvings, with the proper distribution of 
light and shade, and by the projection and outline of our 
mouldings, we can secure that simple beauty, resembling nature, 
which is the acme of artistic development. 

Assuming one hundred parts for the perfection of our con- 
ception as a whole, sixty of these parts would be given to the 
perfection of the plan. This illustrates better than any argu- 
ment the importance and necessity of great study in church- 
planning. Each worshipper must see, must hear, must be well 
warmed, must have good air to breathe, and a comfortable 
place to sit and kneel. The sanctuary must be roomy and 
convenient, the altar and its surroundings well arranged, the 
sacristies ample, and the pulpit considered in relation to both 
the preacher and the people. 

POINTED GOTHIC. 

The length, breadth, and height of the best examples of the 
past must be well digested mentally, to enable us to plan in a 
way to conform with our selected period of architecture. To 
plan a Gothic church, for instance, we must be familiar with 
the churches developed in the Frankisfa province from A. D. 1108 
to 1328, during which time the Pointed Gothic architecture 
was invented, soon to spread its influence through Europe. 
This style, since its perfection, has seemed to a great many as 
the most fitting to carry out the religious forms of^the church. 
Its beginning was the Abbey of St. Denis, A. D. 1144, and it 
was developed, beautified, and perfected until it received its 
greatest amount of finish at the completion of the choir of St. 
Ouen at Rouen, in 1339. 

The great need of intelligent planning must not be subor- 
dinated to the adoption of any example of old-world archi- 
tecture, however imposing. In the great cathedrals of Europe, 
with their numerous chapels, many services are in progress at 
the same moment. .Congregations wander (without hindrance 
from fixed seats) through the edifices, worshipping in small 
numbers at as many altars as happen to be in use. With us 
conditions are different. The capacity of the church is fully 
tested at each of the services. The whole people at Mass are 
obliged to centre attention at the one altar, to listen to the 
instruction of the single clergyman. Climatic peculiarities have 
also to be contended with, and the question of pure air under 
certain conditions of the atmosphere requires wholly different 
treatment from any like problem in the churches abroad. 



1 899.] 



CA THOLIC CHURCH ARCHITECTURE. 




CLUSTERED COLUMNS IN THE CLOISTER, MONREALE, SICILY. 
THE MODEL PARISH CHURCH. 

The parish church of medium size, seating a thousand per- 
sons or less, where each attendant can properly and comfortably 
hear divine service ; where the surrounding religious influences 



1 96 CA T HO Lie CH URCH AR CHITE c T URE. \ M ay , 

are not so distant as to be mere shapeless forms ; where the 
priest, the people, and the choir can unite in the perpetuation 
of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass this is the problem which 
the intelligent architect likes to solve. He feels that in work 
of this scope he will live to see the work completed, and 
with the funds at his disposal he can do justice to himself and 
to the parish which gives him employment. If the pastor, 
however, has in his mind's eye St. Stephen's at Vienna or 
Cologne Cathedral, after either of which he desires to model 
his structure, at an expense of fifty thousand dollars, slated 
clere-stories and galvanized iron towers will be "in it," to say 
nothing of other aberrations not necessary to name. 

In church-planning perhaps the lower church has been the 
subject of more discussion and criticism than any other portion 
of the building. It is without doubt a very useful part of the 
church, and to provide the same amount of floor space in an 
adjoining chapel is an expensive luxury which few parishes can 
afford. 

A feature capable of special attractions, which will be de- 
veloped in ways now only suggestive, is the side altars, small 
chapels, and oratories. The church in its entirety is used for 
great gatherings and congregational worship. The chapel is 
the place for individual worship and novenas for favors which 
it is hoped the petitioner will receive, and especially for 
thanksgiving. 

THE USES OF GAS AND ELECTRICITY. 

Nearly all of our churches are well warmed, but few are well 
lighted and hardly any well ventilated. With the new uses to 
which gas is being put, in the operation at small expense, with- 
out fire or flame, of gas-engines, which when attached to a 
dynamo will furnish electric light at any time and in any 
quantity, as well as power for ventilating purposes, the church 
without its lighting and ventilating plant will soon be the ex- 
ception and not the rule. The absence of any danger from an 
apparatus of this kind, coupled with the fact that no additional 
care is required from the engineer, will soon cause it to be 
adopted by the clergy as readily as the large corporations that 
have learned to be independent of the electric light companies. 

Construction, or the technic portion of architecture, can best 
be described as applied mechanics. To determine what the 
foundation will have to support, to provide for its carrying 
capacity and to distribute the weight so that it is brought to 



1 8 9 90 



CATHOLIC CHURCH ARCHITECTURE. 



197 



the base provided 
for it safely and 
economically, is 
good construction. 
The foundation is 
not only the be- 
ginning but the 
end of any super- 
structure. Every 
day and all around 
us foundations 
are provided for 
churches which 
disgrace our intel- 
ligence. We won- 
der at damp base- 
ments, and yet go 
on building them. 
We wonder at 
settlements in our 
buildings after 
having invited 
them, or rather 
insisted on having 
them, by the 
method we follow 
in building the 
foundation. 

The other great 
problem in church 
construction is to 
provide for the 
roof. The great 
span of the nave 
necessitates a roof 
having consider- 
able outward 
thrust, and care 

must betaken that INTERIOR OF THE CHURCH OF PONT AUDEMER (EURE). 

this force will not push out the side walls or crush them. 
The church roof truss is a very important matter, but is 
an important mathematical matter. It has none of those un- 
known or mysterious quantities about it which are hidden to 




198 CATHOLIC CHURCH ARCHITECTURE. [May, 

the student of mathematics. Before the employment of the 
numerous public and private testing-machines materials had to 
be used without a knowledge of their special weaknesses, and 
naturally a large element of doubt had to be provided for, more 
especially in the use of wood and iron. The church truss, how- 
ever, is but recreation to the architect of this day with un- 
limited data at his command. 

DECORATION THE POETRY OF ARCHITECTURE. 

The decoration, or the painting and sculpture, is the third 
element in church building the poetry of the work. Here 
it is that the masters of the world's art have given the 
best effort of their lives. Here Murillo, in the cathedral at 
Seville, left his masterpiece, the great painting of St. Anthony 
of Padua ; here Michael Angelo, at St. Peter's, planned and 
decorated the magnificent dome ; here also, in the Gothic 
churches of France, the sculptor's work 'teaches history and 
religion to all who are familiar with the alphabet of art, the 
great cathedrals of Chartres and of Rheims alone having over 
five thousand artistic sculptured figures each. 

Catholic church decoration in this country is apt to be 
overdone, and with vitiated taste we indulge in meaningless 
lines and glaring contrasts which distract the attention of the 
worshipper, instead of by the harmony of our colors endeavor- 
ing to carry him beyond worldly influences. 

The cathedral and parish church cannot be treated alike to 
have satisfactory results, any more than a patient with a fever 
and one with a broken leg could be doctored for the same 
complaint. In decorating, however, we can try to overcome 
defects in height and size, as in exterior design a building is 
made to look high by running perpendicular lines, and made 
to look low by horizontal lines. 

THE WORTH OF A GOOD PICTURE. 

Soft and chaste colors, with the church emblems delicately 
interwoven, appeal to the religious feelings much stronger than 
bright hues and glaring contrasts. One good picture is worth 
miles of stencil-work. The picture of the Crucifixion by Bru- 
midi over the altar in the Philadelphia Cathedral would tend to 
soften the heart and elevate the mind of the most hardened 
criminal. 

In decoration we must not by any means forget the great 
formative principle of Gothic architecture, which was painted 



CATHOLIC CHURCH ARCHITECTURE. 



199 




MARBLE MONK IN THE CAMPO SANTO, ITALY. 

glass. Before its introduction the windows were small and far 
apart, filled with plain white glass. Immediately upon the sub- 
stitution of painted glass, however, windows were enlarged, 
circular plans were abandoned, and polygonal apses and 
chapels of the chevet introduced. " So far as internal archi- 
tecture is concerned," says Fergusson, " the invention of painted 
glass was perhaps the most beautiful ever made. The painted 
slabs of the Assyrian palaces are comparatively poor attempts 



200 TWILIGHT. [May, 

at the same effect. The hieroglyphics of the Egyptians were 
far less splendid and complete ; nor can the panelled temples 
of the Greeks, nor the mosaics and frescoes of the Italian 
churches, be compared with the brilliant effect and parti-colored 
glories of. the windows of a perfect Gothic cathedral, where 
the whole history of the Bible was written in hues of the rain- 
bow by the earnest hand of faith." 

The elements which enter into the successful use of 
materials in architecture may be enumerated as mass, sta- 
bility, durability, construction, forms, proportion, carved or- 
nament, decorative color, sculpture, and painting. These ele- 
ments are used by the architect to produce his ideal, so as to 
unitedly form the aesthetic, phonetic, and technic parts of the 
structure. 




TWILIGHT. 

BY REV. WILLIAM P. CANTWELL. 

HE mists were rising o'er the chilly sea, 
One solitary wild fowl streaked the sky, 
The fishers' boat, wet-sailed, cast lazily 
Its anchor in the bay ; the sob and sigh 
Of waves along the bare and sedgy lea 
Mixed weirdly with the children's distant cry, 
While sadly thoughts of other days and thee 
Came like soft music, and my tear-dimmed eye 
Lost trace of sea and sky, and hazy grew 
The air about, and like a gray-robed nun 
The sober twilight crept apace as through 
A mystic temple ; then the darkness fell 
In clouds like perfumed incense and the blue 
Of heaven twinkled with a myriad stars. 




1899-] AUBREY BEARDSLEY : A RECONSTRUCTION. 201 



AUBREY BEARDSLEY: A RECONSTRUCTION. 

BY LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY. 

|T is quite in the nature of things that a youth 
who wins fame, thus overstepping the decent 
laws of progression, should be miscalculated, 
whether for praise or blame, by the majority. 
The art and the personality are out of focus. By 
the time the party of the first part has lived on into the years 
of man's life ; by the time several hundred thousand sporadical- 
ly reflective people have knowledge of him ; by the time the 
shock and strangeness which genius always is, begin to look 
somewhat pertinent and integral, then, indeed, the general 
judgment bids fair to be truer. But in the case of Aubrey 
Beardsley, who in his adolescence, thanks to the contagion of 
journalistic report, was more famous than was Alcibiades, or Pico 
della Mirandola, or Mozart, the critical equilibrium has not yet 
been established, though he has been just a year in his grave ; 
though new portfolios of his drawings are still published, each 
with its preface ; though we have had, of late, no fewer than 
six exquisitely intelligent essays about him, of which Mr. Arthur 
Symons' is easily first. Taken together, these sum up and state 
a most interesting modern problem ; unlike every modern prob- 
lem, it would seem to be well worth solution. What sort of 
" heathen, Christian or man," asks one dazzled, affronted citizen 
of another, was this creator of demon dwarves, of bare elongated 
sorceresses, of mincing Atalantas with blanketed dogs, of blue 
poster ladies inscrutable behind green spotted veils ? (Suffer 
the hubbub : it is inevitable.) So far, only Mr. Henry Harland 
has answered clearly. His short paper in the Academy, written 
with his usual power of lightness and simpleness, and with no 
design but love's or truth% puts the matter on its right ground, 
and supplies us, at the close, with the unuttered premise. 

" I wonder whether people who know Aubrey Beardsley only 
through his work ever realize how young he was. When the 
world first began to talk of him, when Mr. Pennell first wrote 
of him in the Studio, and Mr. Dent undertook the publication of 
his first book, the Morte D* Arthur, Aubrey was not yet one-and- 
twenty. He was barely five-and-twenty when he died. And at 
the moment of his utmost celebrity, when the world was talking 
loudest of him, during the winter of 1894-95, he was twenty-two. 



202 AUBREY BEARDSLEY : A RECONSTRUCTION. [May, 

" For my part, I could only think of him, I can only re- 
member him, as a boy. Oh, a marvellously precocious boy, a 
boy who had read, observed, reflected : a boy (as a great critic 
said of him) who had found a ' short cut ' to the mastery of 
his art : a boy of genius, indeed ; but still a boy, and a singu- 
larly bright, frank, boyish boy, at that. He had all a boy's fresh- 
ness, enthusiasm, exuberance, all a boy's eagerness and relish for 
the fun and the romance and the pleasantness of life. His en- 
joyment of things, his enjoyment of books, pictures, music, of the 
opera, the play ; his enjoyment of London and Paris, of the 
London streets and the Paris streets, their beauty, their action and 
suggestion; his enjoyment of people, of conversation, of human 
sympathy and intercourse ; his enjoyment of his own gifts, his 
own achievements, and of his success, the recognition he had 
won : it was boyish, boyish ; it was fresh and young and 
eager. He had a boy's curiosity, a boy's craving for adven- 
ture, experience, and a boy's capacity for seeing the elements 
of adventure in the simplest doings: that is to say, a boy's im- 
agination. A little dinner at a restaurant, an hour spent in 
a cafe, nay, even a ride on the top of an omnibus, or a walk 
in Kensington Gardens, held, for his unspoiled imagination, 
the elements of adventure. Taking his house in Cambridge 
Street, furnishing and decorating it : that was a great adventure. 
Starting the Yellow Book with me, and afterwards the Savoy 
with Arthur Symons : those were tremendous, breathless ad- 
ventures. And he had a boy's fondness for a * lark,' a boy's 
playfulness, mischief. He loved a romp, a masquerade, a harm- 
less practical joke. One evening I was seated in my study, when 
the servant brought a visiting-card, on which was written, * Miss 
Tibbett and Master Tibbett.' I went into the drawing-room, 
and there was Miss Beardsley with a tall boy in an Eton jacket. 
The tall boy in the Eton jacket, Master Tibbett, if you please 
was Aubrey, jubilant, laughing for delight in his own prank. 

" He had a boy's playfulness, mischievousness. And when I 
hear honest folk deploring, horror-struck, the quality in his 
work which it has been the fashion somewhat cheaply to de- 
scribe as ' decadent ' : when I hear them crying out, ' Ah, yes, 
monstrous clever, certainly ; but so immoral, so depraved ! ' I, 
who knew the boy, can only shake my head and smile. For I 
know that what they hold up their hands at, as depraved, im- 
moral, was nothing more than the mischievous humor, or, if you 
like, the devilry, of the boy, who, boylike, loved to give 
Solemnity a shock. I do not say that it would not have been 
better if, in his work, he had restrained this mischievous humor; 



1899-] AUBREY BEARDSLEY : A RECONSTRUCTION. 203 

but I do say that it was nothing worse than mischievous humor. 
If Aubrey had lived, he ivould have restrained it; or, rather, 
he would have outgrown it, he would have left it behind him. 
He would have sown his wild oats, and had done with them. 

" For the man in Aubrey Beardsley, the man as distinguished 
from the boy, the man the boy was developing into, had de- 
veloped into during the last sad year of his life, was a man of 
very deep and serious feelings, of very high and earnest aims. 
Aubrey Beardsley's temperament was essentially the religious 
temperament. A hundred times, in a hundred ways, one felt 
that this was so ; one would even tell him to his face that it 
was so ; at which he would perhaps laugh a little, quietly, 
gently, a laugh that was by no means a disavowal. And just 
at the threshold of that last sad year, he acknowledged that it 
was so : he became a Catholic. He became beautifully, serene- 
ly devout : not in any morbid or effeminate sense, but in the 
right sense, the wholesome, manly sense. His heart, his life, 
were filled with the joy and the love it is the merit of the 
Supreme Faith to bestow. In all his wretched bodily suffering, 
at Bournemouth, at Dieppe, and in the end at Mentone, he 
had that to help him." 

"Aubrey Beardsley's temperament was essentially the reli- 
gious temperament." Will some cry out that this is like telling 
us that the pine-needle is spherical, or that Bohemia, after all, 
has a sea-coast ? But it is really the irradiation of the whole 
subject from within : the light by which men must search out, 
and discard, some received opinions. Aubrey Beardsley came 
to the ancient Faith gradually and steadily. He was intensely 
reserved in character : he had not a word to reveal while he 
suffered his own complex processes ; he smiled, and lit his can- 
dles, and went about talking paradoxes, and transferred to 
paper wistful diabolic phantoms, (perhaps to be rid of seeing 
them, to avoid having them come true,) and softly enjoyed the 
confusion of the public, which with such adroit metaphysical 
attack he sandbagged and waylaid. All this, observe, that he 
might have a depopulated world in which to do his momentous 
thinking ! The too inductive Comte de Caylus confessed : " fe 
grave pour ne pas me pendre" Our more cunning artist had, 
too, his singular self-protective makeshifts. Hidden by the 
domino, and the horns and hoofs of exaggeration, and the for- 
bidding Rosicrucian flame, was a little walled inner oratory. 
He meant that none should guess at it, if he could hinder. 
But there were two or three clairvoyants about, beside Mr. 
Harland, who is not a Catholic. One of the most subtle minds 



204 AUBREY BEARDSLEY : A RECONSTRUCTION. [May, 

among his pagan friends, one who saw much of him during 
1896, has recorded that it is only " with a great effort " that he 
can connect the Beardsley whom he knew " with his so posi- 
tive intelligence, with his imaginative sight of the very spirit 
of man as a thing of definite outline," with the exile who 
"died in the peace of the sacraments of the Church, holding 
the rosary between his fingers." Nor was this most sincere 
change, as has been foolishly hinted, an access of mere death- 
bed piety. When the young man made ready to enter the 
Church he was at the height of his reputation ; he expected to 
live, and to serve God with an unmistakable service. He had 
no fear of death, nor of anything. His dominant qualities, from 
a child, after his tender compassion for all weak and disadvan- 
taged things, were this same reticence, and this courage. Once 
they were enfranchised to the Faith, 

" To that sweet yoke where lasting freedoms be," 

these very qualities subordinated themselves to a new third, 
which was in him less a natural gift than a special grace, 
although it was a natural gift as well : an absolutely limpid 
spiritual simplicity. For it is well to remember that Beards- 
ley's nature was one of great richness and depth ; his strong 
yet wary and elaborate line which we all admire, was a symbol 
of the ways he had to travel. He could not be perfectly sim- 
ple until he was perfectly free. Like Keats, he " lived in a 
thousand worlds " ; he apprehended often more than could be 
expressed ; and in much that he chose to express, in his won- 
derful black-and-white, lay more than others were ready to 
receive. This is not saying that he loved mysticism or equivo- 
cation, for his work is ever direct, and stubbornly of a piece ; 
but only that he frequently played in it an unguessed game : 
the game of abounding comment, instinctive to the great reader, 
the great observer, that he was. Memorable portraiture, to cite 
but one instance, has gone undetected in the almost savagely 
pathetic Return of Tannhauser to the Venusberg. The drawing 
is not in the least like the Niebelungenlied or the heroic dream 
of Wagner : it is, on the contrary, a powerful gloss or foot- 
note to English history of the seventeenth century. With what 
some reverent spirits might call utter bravado, with what one 
might choose to consider, rather, a remote obsession, an irrita- 
ting magic " to tease us out of thought," Beardsley has not 
seldom, in his later compositions, set his glittering interiors 
with bits of the most alien-looking ritual detail. There are 
altar candles in the Scarlet Pastorale ; there is a statuette of 



1899-] AUBREY BEARDSLEY : A RECONSTRUCTION. 205 

Our Lady in the exquisite Coiffure ; there is something very 
like a monstrance on the ornate stand in the right-hand corner 
of The Baron's Prayer, in The Rape of the Lock. On altar 
candles, statuette, monstrance, one and all, the backs of the 
extra-mundane figures are significantly turned. Who has ever 
noted the ecclesiast paraphernalia ? Apparently they were set 
there for Mr. Aubrey Beardsley's quite secret pleasure. They 
are beautiful, and drawn without accent. The obviously sacred 
subject, like the S. Rose of Lima, in the Savoy, dating from the 
same period, has an arrangement of draperies which is, let us 
say, elegantly farcical. Made wise after the event, a critic may 
dare to look on such art with the gross moral eye : the too- 
little or the too-much, the rash half-visionary handling which 
means neither abuse nor evasion, is truly but the cried unrest 
of S. Augustine, donee requiescamus in TV. While Aubrey 
seemed to be coursing after decorative possibilities, after his 
own " amazingly novel convention," he was all the while on 
the trail of the eternal. The spirit in him which came out 
unique and original from the embrace of a thousand vari- 
colored precedents in art, " delightful manias," as Mr. Robert 
Ross romantically enumerates them, " Greek vases, Italian primi- 
tives, the Hypnerotomachia, Chinese porcelain, Japanese Kake- 
monos, Renaissance friezes, old French and English furniture, 
rare enamels, mediaeval illumination, the dbonnaire masters of 
the eighteenth century, the English pre-Raphaelites," this same 
spirit, roving, aspiring, insatiate, elementally sincere, urged him 
swiftly from virtue to virtue, made him an ascetic enamored of 
perfection. The contemporaries who were once able to get at 
close range this mild and courteous lad with the flat blonde 
hair, of whom no photograph gives a just estimate, were not 
those whose fur continued to rise at the sight of his " pranc- 
ing page." Something in him disarmed opposition : certainly 
it was no specific conciliation of his own. He who on his all- 
wakeful rounds saw most things in this world, and around 
them, and through them, was predestined, before he left it, to 
see also the Holy Grail. 

Aubrey Vincent Beardsley was born at Brighton, Sussex, on 
the 2 ist of August, 1872. His family were not rich, except in 
love. He was a gentle, shy child, who began to show symp- 
toms of delicate health in his eighth year, and was moved from 
town to country, and from school to school. He played at 
concerts with his sister Mabel, (throughout his life his close 
friend and confidant,) and had a pretty vogue as a prodigy in 
music, for which his lifelong talent was very marked. He re- 



206 AUBREY BEARDSLEY : A RECONSTRUCTION. [May, 

cited extraordinarily well, too, and gloried in acting Shakspere, 
as drama after drama would issue from the Mermaid Press. 
The boy of ten was always drawing, always reading serious 
masterpieces ; and he attracted from the first his teachers, and 
some others who foresaw no common future for him. Like 
Correggio's, or Schubert's, his art grew without a master, by early 
diligence and self-directed study. The history of its develop- 
ment is well told in Mr. Ross's preface to the Volpone, pub- 
lished by Mr. John Lane. Aubrey left school in 1888, and 
within a twelvemonth had become a clerk in the Guardian Life 
and Fire Insurance office, where he remained until 1892. Then 
his genius blazed up, and at the first real opportunity his name 
was all at once upon everybody's lips. It was but a career of 
five years in all : who does not remember that bright, sting- 
ing, quick-passing pageant, such as Baudelaire may have beheld 
in dreams ? The material measure of Aubrey's success was 
astonishing : he started on five shillings a week, and ended 
with an income of five thousand pounds a year. Throughout, 
he showed himself entirely unworldly, receptive to all wise 
criticism, perfectly modest and unspoiled. A nursling of no 
university, it was not the least marvellous thing about him that 
he made himself into an excellent scholar, a lover of the 
ancients, a sound authority oh a great many purely literary 
subjects. H.e cared only for the best books ; he had a library, 
choice and not too large, rich in everything save fiction, to 
which he gave small heed, unless it were French. He had a 
passion for writing, and he wrote well. It seemed impossible 
for him to fail at anything upon which his heart was set. I 
am afraid he " resolved," as Rasselas did, " to become a poet " ; 
what wonder if the sequel is a little vague! No one ever seems 
to have caught him at work : once interrupted, he would hide his 
materials, and, on a fund of very imperfect vitality, become, 
miscellaneously gay, the life of the company. He had incredi- 
ble zest when his task pleased him, and but fitful energies 
when it did not ; he hated all illustration, even when, in the 
mood of the day before, he had elected to do it. Though he 
had time for friendship, he had no time for posing and tall 
talk. Such as he was, frail and animated, boyish and beloved > 
Mr. Harland has painted him, in the heyday of his genius. 

In March of 1896 he was taken ill at Brussels, and had to 
spend the cold weather of that year at Bournemouth for recu- 
peration. Here he allowed his old frank liking for the Lives 
of the Saints to revive, and he re-read Newman and Bossuet. 
In the mild sunshine, in sound of the sea, he never for a mo- 



1899-] AUBREY BEARDSLEY : A RECONSTRUCTION. 207 

ment believed himself a confirmed invalid. " My appearance 
always shocks a new doctor," he admitted once, with his pecu- 
liarly sweet smile ; " but I have really always looked more or 
less like this. Those who have not known me from childhood 
cannot realize how very slim I have always been." He was 
seldom strong enough to visit during the winter, but he visited 
the Rev. David Bearne, S.J., with whom he had at first a pure- 
ly literary acquaintance. He borrowed books bearing upon S. 
Ignatius, and upon an historic crisis in the life of the great 
community he was fast learning to revere and love: the Society 
of Jesus. To Father "Bearne he began to confide various long- 
held theories about his ideal religion. Careful as he was to 
conceal his deeper feelings from outsiders by means of flippant 
speech, Aubrey had been a loyal Anglican. Now he knew that 
that familiar influence had failed him on every side. He need- 
ed, he said, the staying principle of authority; he needed, 
above all, the sure grace of the sacraments, and these he felt 
convinced he could not find, apart from the Mother. In the 
Jesuit sacristy he went over the creed of Pius the Fourth, but 
could not be drawn to utter objections. "And did I doubt, I 
should prefer to submit myself," said the most independent 
and unconventional of neophytes, he who was so fond of an ar- 
gument, even when he had no real concern with it ! In fact, by 
that time his mind was already made up ; he had been under in- 
struction, and his minor difficulties had been removed. On the 
last day of March, 1897, he was made a child of the Church, 
in his own room. His beloved and devoted mother, who is still 
a non-Catholic, built a fair little altar there beside him. " I 
shall never forget," wrote Father Bearne, " the joy with which 
he received his First Communion." Some weeks after, he went 
up to London, and then, always under his mother's minister- 
ing care, on through Paris, to the south of France. One of 
his last drawings before leaving England was the austere and 
altogether noble figure, the Ave Atque Vale, reproduced in the 
Savoy. The sweet, equal translation from Catullus was his 
own. The air of France did not help him. There, as in Bourne- 
mouth, he struggled hard to keep faith with his publishers, 
but in vain ; the effort to work often brought him low with 
hemorrhage. He was tormented, too, by the eagerness of his 
desire to consecrate himself to devotional art. That would 
have been, for him, nothing but a return, with ripened facul- 
ties, to his own first choice and early love : to the pencilled 
world of his boyhood, where seraphs were, and the Epiphany 
star, and the transparent profile of our Lady, with a slanted 



2o8 AUBREY BEARDSLEY : A RECONSTRUCTION. [May, 

jonquil held against her girlish hair. It is characteristic of 
him that, passionately as he cherished that desire, he kept 
doggedly on, as best he could, with the tasks he had pledged 
himself to do : and so, in the dissatisfaction of a losing battle, 
his strength was spent, until he could no longer sit up at all. 
He must have known that in many eyes he was passing un- 
vindicated, but he was brave enough to sacrifice the last chance 
of vindication to his duty. Meanwhile, during those weeks and 
months, he was leading the life of penance, the life of the 
saints. Father Bearne says that before Aubrey went from 
Bournemouth he showed a certain anxiety regarding the sort of 
confessor he might meet with in the course of his travels, and 
asked for letters of introduction to some foreign clergymen. 
Whereupon Father Bearne reminded him, in all affection, that 
in the Catholic Church the main consideration must ever be 
the sacerdos as such, and not the individual : but that he should 
have the letters, if he wished. Aubrey, however, understood 
the point, a difficult one for converts at once ; and after his 
usual thorough habit, took the hint to heart : so literally, in- 
deed, that wherever he happened to be on great festivals, (as 
Father Bearne was told afterwards,) he would go to the nearest 
priest, or send for him, and make his confession, with the sim- 
plicity of a child. If he went out to walk, he was repeatedly 
found before the tabernacle, rapt in prayer. If he had to lie 
indoors, often in such agony that it seemed incredible he 
should survive it, he was angelically unselfish and serene. His 
physicians, strange to say, agreed that he must eventually re- 
cover ; but he had gradually lost interest in the pursuits and 
glories of this world. He sent to England for a girdle of S. 
Thomas Aquinas, and later, for a copy of S. Alphonsus' Clock 
of the Passion. " He gave himself up," I am quoting from a 
private letter, "to a great devotion to the Passion of our 
Blessed Lord. His own sufferings were sharp, but for a time 
God allowed him unbroken consolation. Then came desolate 
hours, and temptation, and distress. The thought of some of 
his drawings was a torture. * At any cost,' he telegraphed to 
his publishers, one day, ' such and such a design must be sac- 
rificed.' Nor would he take any rest until he was assured that 
all should be as he directed." His whole conduct was a source 
of profound edification to his fellow-guests at the Hotel Cosmo- 
politain at Mentone. He beguiled his forced inaction, as he 
was able, by turning his pleasant room into a little picture- 
gallery, pinning up rows of unframed prints against the wall. 
One has a view of this room in a large photograph of himself 



1899-] AUBREY BEARDSLEY : A RECONSTRUCTION. 209 

seated, reading, which he had taken, at Christmastide, for his 
friends. Looking narrowly at the wall, one can make out the 
subject of the greater number of the prints : it is that of the 
Cross and Passion of Christ. 

Mrs. Beardsley had planned to take her only son on to Lu- 
cerne, in February ; he had gained apparent strength, and he 
was full of hope. But it was not to be : he was to die in the 
Riviera, " the land of last letters," and of English graves. 
During the first week of March, 1898, he underwent a painful 
hemorrhage, and fell into a subsequent final exhaustion. He 
received Extreme Unction, and was " happy." The pathetic 
and triumphant word was always on his own lips, and recurs, 
over and over, in the messages of the mother and sister who 
tried to answer the many inquiries of dear friends at home. 
To one of these Mrs. Beardsley wrote : " My darling is oh so 
happy in spite of his sufferings! He whispered to me his great 
gratitude and love to you : some day I may be able to tell 
you all he said." And again, Miss Beardsley addresses the same 
friend : " Dear Aubrey is slightly better. His state of mind 
is most beautiful : perfect resignation, sweetness, and gentle- 
ness : it is marvellous. He lies very quietly, holding his rosary. 
He cares for nothing but spiritual things, and is so grateful to 
God. There is hope for him ; yet it is selfish to talk of recov- 
ery as hope, when he is so happy now. Last night he, and 
we too, thought he was dying. He tells me all his thoughts; 
they are wonderful. And he delights in the prayers, psalms, 
and hymns which we say for him. When he believed he was 
dying, he was very happy, but he is wonderfully resigned and 
obedient under the delay." ..,./" Aubrey spoke lovingly 
of you last night, and is happy to know you are praying for 
him. To-day, I am afraid he is troubled with a sense of deso- 
lation, and with evil visions, but he is consoled, notwithstand- 
ing, and is most patient. We are so happy together, I cannot 
feel sad for him, though it is terrible to watch his sufferings. 
I shall stay with him always now, while he needs me." The 
young man to whom these tidings were given day by day was 
Aubrey Beardsley's dearest friend, his " more than brother." 
His own indefatigable faith, the prayers he offered and got 
others to offer, had much to do with that heartfelt conversion 
of the year before ; and there was the sweetest return for this 
great service, near the end. For Aubrey himself, asked for 
prayers, as he lay dying, obtained then a spiritual favor 
ardently desired, not on his own behalf, by Mr. A - : one of 
VOL. LXIX. 14 



2io AUBREY BEARDSLEY: A RECONSTRUCTION. [May, 

those gracious miracles which are always being wrought by the 
providence of God, and of which cables and printing-presses 
take no account, albeit they are the only fresh news in all the 
world. Between these two comrades was a sacred and lovely 
intimacy, of which I will say no more. 

Some passages in other letters sum up the nature and mean- 
ing of Aubrey Beardsley's blessed inner life. The first of these 
was written by his sister : " It has been a grief to my mo- 
ther and myself that none of the notices which have appeared, 
have, as far as we know, made any reference to the testimony 
which my brother bore to the Faith, in the wonderful patience 
and resignation with which he endured his sufferings, and 
the childlike sweetness and grace of his last days on earth. 
As you already know, in April of 1897 he left England 
for Paris, where his first thought, on arriving, was to find a 
director. My mother, at his request, went to the church near- 
est to their hotel, S. Thomas d'Aquinas, and arranged for the 
Abbe Vacossin to visit my brother, and prepare him for his 
Easter Communion. M. Vacossin, like all my brother's subse- 
quent directors, was profoundly tou'ched and interested by his 
childlike faith and simple trust, qualities which throughout his 
life endeared him to his friends. Later, he passed under the 
direction of Pere Coube and of Pere Henry of the Jesuit or- 
der. I came to St. Germains, where my brother passed the 
early summer of 1897, and made my Whitsuntide Communion 
there with him in the chapel of the Convent of S. Thomas: 
the last time dear Aubrey ever made his Communion in a 
church. He was so reserved and sensitive that even those 
nearest to him did not always realize the depth of his devotion 
and the fervor of his piety. 

" In the late autumn he went south to Mentone, where he 
spent the four last and happiest months of his life. He had of 
late ceased to take any interest in purely worldly matters ; even 
the work which he loved so much, and which increasing weak- 
ness forbade him to continue, was sacrificed, with touching 
resignation, to the Will of God. Not a word of complaint or 
impatience ever passed his lips, and the affectionate gratitude 
he showed for the tender care of my mother, and the kindness 
of those who surround him, won him the affection of all who 
came in contact with him. Mr. Widmer, the proprietor of the 
Hotel Cosmopolitain, and all the guests there, were devoted to 
my brother. Chief among his friends were M. l'Abb Ortmans 
and M. 1'AbbS Luggani, the former of whom was his director. 



1899-] AUBREY REARDSLEY : A RECONSTRUCTION. 211 

" He spent his time chiefly in spiritual exercises, and in read- 
ing the Lives of the Saints, especially S. Teresa. Although 
even up to within a fortnight of his death, the doctors still 
assured him of the possibility of his life being prolonged 
for even years, he never thought of those years except as 
ones to be devoted to the service of God ; and if he had 
lived, he contemplated entering some religious order. He was 
therefore wholly prepared to give up his life to God, when the 
end came so swiftly and even unexpectedly. On the 6th of 
March he had an agonizing attack of hemorrhage, from which 
it seemed impossible he could recover. Extreme Unction was 
administered, and he rallied for a few days. I arrived in Men- 
tone on the 8th, and was privileged to spend the last eight 
days of his life with him. His patience, sweetness, and piety 
were the marvel of all who beheld him, and having come to 
the ears of a sufferer dying from the same disease, were the 
means, by God's grace, of his conversion to the Catholic Church. 
Among other devotions, Aubrey loved to have read to him the 
short prayers in the Glories of Mary by S. Alphonsus Liguori, 
whose Clock of the Passion was the last book he held in his 
hands. To the last moment of his life, through all the time of 
his illness, he clasped his rosary and a fragment of the True 
Cross, while his large crucifix lay beside him. 'His last words 
were those of loving farewell to his friends, and of thanks to 
M. Ortmans, who gave him the last absolution, and prayed be- 
side him to the end. At one in the morning of the i6th 
March he passed away, after days of terrible suffering which 
he rejoiced 'in, offering it in union with the Passion of Christ. 
Even after death, the perfect peace and beauty of his smile 
-bore testimony to all who came to pray beside him (and they 
were many), that the longing of his heart was fulfilled, and his 
highest aspirations consummated. Ah, it is difficult for me to 
write calmly and impartially of one so dear to me ; yet I can- 
not think that any save those of his own family can speak with 
absolute certainty and knowledge of the real beauty of his 
character, and of the manifest graces which God vouchsafed 
him. Only those who knew him intimately realized the great- 
ness and sweetness of Aubrey's nature." 

The last letter which I shall quote, the first and unpublished 
memoir of Aubrey Beardsley, came last spring from a friend 
of my own in England, a poet who was also Aubrey's friend. 
It was prepared for the gratification, (a very great gratifica- 
tion it proved), of some Americans whose love for the new- 



212 AUBREY BEARDSLEY : A RECONSTRUCTION. [May, 

departed soul brought them, though but one or two were 
Catholics, to a Requiem Mass offered in a private chapel. 
The name of the young writer is goodly and fragrant to 
his own generation : even he has seldom given us so beauti 
fully wise a page. " I must tell you what I can of dear 
Aubrey Beardsley. Unhappily, although I knew him so well, 
and had talked with him of many matters, I had not seen 
him since he became a Catholic. He has constantly been 
abroad ; and he was no letter-writer, especially as his end. 
drew near and inevitable. But I can say, emphatically, that 
his conversion was a spiritual work, and not an half-insincere 
aesthetic act of change, not a sort of emotional experience 
or experiment. He became a Catholic with a true humility 
and exaltation of soul, and prepared to sacrifice much. He 
withdrew himself from certain valued intimacies which he felt 
incompatible with the Faith : that implies something in our 
days, when artists so largely claim exemption, in the name of 
art, from laws and rules of life ! His work, as himself declared, 
would have been very directly religious, in scope and charac- 
ter : he would have dismissed from it all suggestion of any- 
thing dangerously morbid ; he would have made it plain that he 
was sometimes a satirist of vices and follies and extravagances, 
but not, so to say, a sentimental student of them for their 
curiosity's and fascination's sake. There was always in him a 
vein of mental or imaginative unhealthiness and nervousness, 
probably due to his extreme physical fragility : this he was 
setting himself to conquer, to transform into a spiritual and 
artistic source of energy. He died at twenty-five ; his whole 
work was done in some five or six years, that work for which 
he won extraordinary praise and blame ; and only we who 
were his personal friends can truly realize his inexpressibly 
light hold upon life during the few years of his passionate de- 
votion to his art. His long consciousness of imminent death, 
the certainty that whatever he might do in art, in thought, in 
life at all, must be done very soon or never, forced him to 
face the ultimate questions. I 'do not for an instant mean that 
his conversion was a kind of feverish snatching at comfort and 
peace, a sort of anodyne or opiate for his restless mind : I only 
mean that dwelling under the sentence of death, in the shadow 
of it, he was brought swiftly face to face with the values and 
purposes of life and of human activity, and that he ' co-oper- 
ated with grace,' as theology puts it, by a more immediate 
and vivid vision of faith than is granted to most converts. All 



1899-] AUBREY BEARDSLEY : A RECONSTRUCTION. 213 

that was best in his art, its often intense idealism, its longing 
to express the ultimate truths of beauty in line and form, its 
profound imaginativeness, helped to lead him straight to that 
Faith which embraces and explains all human apprehensions of, 
and cravings for, the highest excellences. The eye of his 
body was quick to see : the eye of his soul was quickened to 
see. He was sorry, he said at the last, to die so young, and 
leave his work unfinished: but he was 'ready to obey God's 
will.' He had thoughts of entering an order or congregation 
in which he could have followed his art, and dedicated it wholly 
to the service of the Faith : at least that was the temper or 
tendency of his thoughts towards what proved to be the end. 
He was strangely gentle and winning, though passionate and 
vehement in his intellectual and aesthetic life: such passion and 
vehemence, moderated by his spiritual docility, might have 
achieved great and perfect things. As I have suggested, there 
was a side to his nature which might have led him far in 
the direction of technical excellence in the extreme, coupled 
with spiritual perversity in the extreme : but he lived long 
enough to show that his course would have been otherwise. I 
ascribe all in his work which even great friends and admirers find 
unwelcome, partly to his febrile, consumptive, suffering state of 
body, with its consequent restlessness and excitability of mind ; 
partly to sheer boyish insolence of genius, love of audacious- 
ness, consciousness of power. He was often ridiculed, insulted, 
misconstrued : and he sometimes replied by extravagance. Yet 
despite all wantonness of youthful genius, and the morbidity 
of disease, his truest self was ever on the spiritual side, and 
his conversion was true to that self. He was not the man to 
play with high things, still less with the highest of all. He 
would never have been a fantastical, dilettante trifler with 
Catholicism, making of it a foil to other and base emotions. 
All the greatness and goodness in -hifn, ^brought face to face 
with the last reality of death, leaped up fo the sudden vision 
of faith, as their satisfaction and true end. After a lingering 
period of strong daily pain, he died in quiet peace and happi- 
ness. Requiescat : with all my heart." 

This, then, is the Aubrey Beardsley whom men stared at, 
and lost, and never knew : now hardly more perfectly " hidden 
with Christ in God " than in very deed he would have been, 
had he outlived, here among them, his mortal youth. 




214 ZACH'S "INTERESTS" [May, 



ZACH'S "INTERESTS." 

BY EASTON SMITH. 



;T was a lovely morning in the spring of '83, lovely 
even in New Mexico, where all days are " rare 
as a day in June" and sunshine and blue skies,- 
God's chiefest gifts to a somewhat neglected ter- 
ritory, are so much in the order of things that 
we are apt to grow unappreciative of them. 

In connection with a lawsuit which was then occupying all 
of my waking and most of my sleeping thoughts, I had busi- 
ness that called me some distance into the country. Though 
at that time stories of Indian atrocities were curdling the blood 
and sending terror to the heart of nearly every one in that 
part of the territory, when it was even thought dangerous to 
go beyond the town limits so bold had been their savage 
cruelties, I gladly welcomed the opportunity of leaving, if only 
for a day, the straggling, sunbaked village where for the past 
three years I had lived, breathed, and, through the stern 
necessity of fate, had my being. I felt a keen delight at the 
prospect of a twenty-mile drive over rock-scarred, cactus-covered 
hills, through long stretches of flower-stained prairie, however 
fraught with danger the trip might be. 

Excepting a trusty Winchester, my only companion was an 
odd-looking specimen of the genus homo commonly known as 
Zach. His real name was Zacharias Wilson, but as brevity is 
the soul of Western wit in all things, few of us ever received 
the benefit of more than one syllable of our baptismal appella- 
tions. It was customary, moreover, in the social intercourse of 
those days to seize upon some personal peculiarity or deformity 
of uur neighbor and nickname him thereby. It was in accord- 
ance with this refined and charitable practice that my friend 
was first known to : me as " broken-nosed Zach " or " ugly " 
Wilson, and indeed it seemed the only form of address with 
which he was familiar. Poor Zach ! he was not handsome. 
Venus 'was certainly very much below the horizon when he 
first saw the light; the fatal gift of beauty Nature had 
kindly withheld at his birth, and accident, as well as a some- 
what pugnaciously bibulous disposition, had combined to do the 
rest. 



1899-] Z A CtfS "INTERESTS." 21$ 

When I first met Zach I thought he was the most repulsive- 
looking being I had ever beheld; tall and gaunt with a stoop 
that almost amounted to a deformity, small, deep-set eyes, 
and hair the color of burnt taffy ; an unkempt beard, which he 
allowed to grow merely because he was too lazy to shave and 
not with a view of enhancing his charms, made a tout en- 
semble which the most indulgent lover of God's handiwork 
could not have considered attractive. Added to all this an 
explosion in a mine had horribly injured one side of his face, 
and the symmetry of his not too classic nose had been marred 
in a drunken brawl. 

But I liked the man notwithstanding his unprepossessing 
appearance. There was a suggestion of something better lurk- 
ing beneath a rough exterior good traits of character and dis- 
position that might possibly redeem his account in the next 
world, although it seemed too late for them to develop in this. 
Then too he did not murder the queen's English with the cool 
indifference of others of his class ; he maltreated it severely, I 
must confess, but one cannot expect a pure Addisonian style 
from men who spend most of their lives, pick in hand, beneath 
the ground, and Zach's conversation, while not bespeaking 
culture of the highest order, was musical when compared to 
some other " highly esteemed fellow-townsmen " whom the week- 
ly press delighted to honor, and certainly a point in his favor. 

I knew he had a family somewhere in the country, and he, 
hearing that I wished a companion for in those days no one 
would have been so foolhardy as to start out alone volunteered 
to accompany me, saying he had " interests " in the Mangas 
valley, whither I was bound, and by going as my driver he 
could kill two birds with one stone. 

The morning, as I have already mentioned, was perfect ; we 
left town early and drove for miles in silence I happy in the 
contemplation of the limitless panorama spread out before us, 
Zach cheerfully ruminative and deeply engaged in tli$ masti- 
cation of a quid of tobacco. 

The glorious, sun-browned mesas were studded with flowers 
of every hue, and every now and again we would come upon 
clumps of yucca in full bloom ; its tall, staff-like stem, crowned 
with white, bell shaped blossoms and swaying in the breeze, re- 
minded one in the distance of a flag of truce an emblem all 
unknown in the annals of Apache warfare. 

What is it, I wonder, in the atmosphere of spring that the 
mere breathing of it acts as a Lethean draught, enabling us to 



2l6 ZAClfS "INTERESTS" [May, 

forget for the time all our cares and sorrows ; that sends fresh 
blood pulsing through our veins while we rejoice like innocent 
children at the return of the birds and the flowers ? 

" No matter how barren the past may have been, 
? Tis enough for us now that the fields are green," 

I quoted aloud, and Zach, who was chasing the tobacco 
around in his mouth with an air of bovine content, started at 
the sound of my voice, but having no remarks to make on the 
subject, he resumed his effort to hit a particular spoke of the 
rapidly revolving wheel every time he expectorated. He had 
been devoting himself to this pleasing occupation with a per- 
tinacity worthy of a better cause, and had only missed the 
spoke three times out of twelve when I interrupted him. 

" Are you fond of poetry, Zach ? " 

" Poetry ? No sir, dunno as I ever read any. Never was 
much of a scholar nohow, and when a man's got interests to 
look after he don't waste much time on poetry and sich. Of 
course it is all right for young fellows like you what ain't got 
no interests," he added apologetically. 

I was just going to inquire in what Zach's interests consisted, 
for I had never heard of his investing money anywhere but at 
the saloons, when a turn of the road revealed a cloud of dust 
which speedily resolved itself into the figures of two cowboys 
galloping furiously towards us. The unusual spectacle of a cow- 
boy exerting himself sufficiently when " off duty " to make his 
steed gallop aroused our instant attention and put a stop to 
further conversation. 

Upon seeing us they reined in their panting and foam- 
flecked horses, and told us that a party of thirty or more 
Apaches had broken off the reservation and had been seen 
heading for Gulch cafion. They had been sent to alarm the 
various ranchmen of that vicinity, and they advised us to return 
to town as quickly as possible ; there was an air of excitement 
about the men so foreign to the stoical calm of the cow- 
puncher's accustomed manner that I was alarmed in spite of a 
sneaking sensation that they might be only chaffing us. 

Before I had time to discover whether or not the informa- 
tion was reliable, Zach, with an oath and a muttered exclama- 
tion about his " interests," put whip to the horses and we went 
tearing down the valley at a rate that would have put any 
modern racer to the blush. The sudden lurch of the vehicle 
had pitched me forward, and upon gathering myself up I found, 



1899-] ZACH'S "INTERESTS" 217 

to my amazement, that Zach was driving in the direction of 
the cafton with all possible speed and an evident desire to offer 
himself as a victim to the noble red man. 

" Now look here, Zach," I exclaimed as calmly as my grow- 
ing wrath would permit, "if you are willing to be scalped by 
Indians for the sake of a few miserable cows, well and good ; 
but I want you to understand that I do not share your feel- 
ings and I demand that we either turn back, or at least stop 
at that house and make inquiries." The house alluded to was 
a good-sized adobe some three quarters of a mile ahead of us. 

" Cows ! Man, do you suppose I would run the risk of be- 
ing scalped for all- the blamed cattle in New Mexico ? It is 
Mercy I am thinking about Mercy down there in the cafion, 
and not a man on the place to protect her ! Gosh ! if those 
redskins have touched a hair of her head, I'll " The re- 
mainder of the sentence melted into indistinct profanity, of 
which I only caught the vaguely uttered word " interests " ; 
but like a flash the knowledge came to me that Zach's inter- 
ests were not centred in cattle, or in real estate or mines, 
but in the woman he called wife, and I felt a strange respect 
for this man, who with all his apparently brutal instincts would 
so unhesitatingly face a cruel death to save the one he loved. 

" Beg pardon, old fellow ; I did not understand," said I, in- 
tent upon making the amende honorable, although I do not 
think Zach expected it, " but since you are the best shot, sup- 
pose you take the rifle and give me the ribbons. That's it ; 
now we will see each other through, Indians or no Indians." 

We soon reached the top of a hill which commanded a 
view of the entire cafion, but not a sign of past or approach- 
ing danger was to be seen. 

" I reckon it is all a scare," exclaimed Zach, and only 
a deep-drawn sigh attested how intense was his relief. 
"There's where Mercy lives," he continued, pointing to a 
house nearly a mile below us, " and everything looks as 
peaceful as a summer's day. I might have had better sense 
than to believe that Dick Sloan, dern his mischievous skin ! I'll 
bet he was nigh on to rolling off his saddle when he saw how 
his Smart Alec joke was taken in such good faith by us." 

" Perhaps we had better stop here and inquire, at any rate," I 
suggested, thinking discretion the better part of valor. Zach 
agreed and we drove into the dusty yard, littered with unused or 
broken-down wagons and surrounded by a carelessly kept fence, 
which was evidently appreciated only as a saddle and harness rack. 



218 ZACH'S "INTERESTS" [May, 

There was no effort at landscape or any other kind of 
gardening, no slightest attempt to " make the wilderness blossom 
as a rose." Directly in front of the house was a long trough, into 
which the water flowed slowly but ceaselessly through an iron 
pipe ; around it the ground was muddy and trampled by the 
hoofs of the thirsty cattle who came thither many weary miles 
during the long dry season to quench their thirst. Many come 
at first, but as the drought continues the number steadily de- 
creases, and very soon there will be seen more carcasses on -the 
withered plains, more buzzards blotting the sky's blue bosom, and 
later on more bones bleaching in the glare of the relentless sun. 

My companion went into the house while I held the horses 
and underwent the inspection of at least a dozen little tow- 
headed children, who had swarmed at the sight of our buggy 
like bees at the beating of pans, and who apparently found 
my rather modest attire a subject for much amusement. 

" A biled shirt, Maria, b' gosh, and shined boots ! " ejacu- 
lated the eldest hopeful, doubling himself up in a paroxysm of 
unseemly mirth. I am not a bashful man, but in the presence 
of the ordinary infant, prodigy or otherwise, I quail. In my 
opinion, it requires far less nerve, if I may use the word, 
to argue a case before an assemblage of brilliant men, or to 
enter a room the cynosure of countless lovely eyes, than to 
face the outspoken criticism of the average young American. 

In a little while Zach returned, his ugly face wreathed in 
smiles. According to the last and most authentic accounts, the 
Indians had gone in an exactly opposite direction from the one 
indicated to us, and, for the present, no danger was appre- 
hended in this vicinity. Oar cowboy friends had either been 
themselves mistaken, or, through a spirit of mischief, had wil- 
fully misinformed us. 

" Guess I will let the critters walk the rest of the way, as 
they seem a bit winded," said Zach, suiting the action to the 
word. " We can get dinner at my place, and after that 
there will be plenty of time to go to Jackson's and see your 
man ; he only lives a few miles below me. While we are 
gone, Mercy can be getting ready to go back to town with us, 
where she '11 be safe. I don't want no more such scares as I 
have had to-day," The proposition meeting my cordial ap- 
proval, we let the tired horses take their own time in descend- 
ing the rocky trail, while we regaled ourselves with tobacco 
that universal panacea for masculine worry. 

" How long have you been married, Zach ? " I asked, won- 



1899-] ZACH'S " INTERESTS." 219 

dering at the time what style of woman this -Mercy could be 
to have consented to take for better or worse such an unat- 
tractive life partner as the man beside me. I had already con- 
cluded that the love was on his side only, for while the 
average woman prefers good qualities to good looks my hero 
had neither the one nor the other to recommend him. 

" Nigh onto eight years," responded Zach. " Our marriage, 
Mercy's and mine, was kind of romantic-like, and if you care to 
listen I will tell you the whole business." 

Upon my giving an eager assent, Zach laid aside his pipe 
and, putting a piece of tobacco the size of a child's fist into 
his mouth by way of refection, he began his story. 

" When I first met Mercy, ten years ago this very spring, I 
did not amount to much more than I do now ; I have always 
been in the habit of taking a drink whenever I felt like it, and 
then as now I occasionally took too much. However, I could 
always manage to make a good living and take care of my in- 
terests, which is more than lots of them can say what set 
themselves up for my betters. It was when I was hurt by that 
infernal explosion that I began to love Mercy ; she was so 
good and pitiful and had such cool, slim hands, and well, the 
first thing I knowed I was plum gone. As soon as I got 
strong enough to go 'round again I took to dropping in to see 
her. The old man, Mercy's father, hated me from the start, 
and in proportion as she grew to like me better he took to 
hating me worse. Finally he forbade me the house ; then we 
used to meet kinder accidental like at a neighbor's, but the old 
gent soon caught on to that dodge and became furious swore 
he would shoot me on sight if. he ever saw me with his daugh- 
ter again. I wasn't afraid of the festive old cuss, but I did 
not want to kill him because he was Mercy's father, and I 
couldn't see that it would help matters any to let him kill me, 
so for a long time I steered clear of the whole outfit and tried 
to forget Mercy by going on a regular jamboree. But it did 
not work, and one day I met her looking so pale and forlorn 
that, by George, I felt like bustin' out a-crying! I thought 
maybe she had been suffering like myself, and sez I, * Zach, 
you're an ornery, good-for-nothing coward to let that little girl 
go break her heart and you take no steps to prevent it.' ' 

Here a violent fit of coughing, brought on by my efforts to 
hide the smiles which I could not restrain, came near strangling 
me, and for some seconds interrupted my friend's narrative- 
Presently he resumed : 



220 ZACH'S "INTERESTS" [May, 

" Well, sir, my mind was made up, so I went to a chum of 
mine and laid the case before him. Between us we fixed up a 
plan to go to Mercy's home that night, and, if she was willing, 
to take her away or get shot in the attempt. I took my re- 
volver and Jim took his, and we drove out to where she lived 
about a mile from town. There was no moon that night, but 
I don't recollect ever before having seen so many stars shining 
in the heavens at one time. I remarked the fact to Jim, and 
Jim sez, sez he, ' This ain't nothin', my boy, to what you will 
see after the old man gets through with you.' Jim always was 
fond of a joke ; he was killed, poor fellow, by the Injuns a few 
months later. Well, I got out and rapped at the door while 
Jim hitched the horses. Pretty soon I heard the old man come 
out and after a lot of fumbling he slid the bolt. When he saw 
me standing on the porch as large as life, and pretty large I 
was beside o' him, he was so taken aback he forgot to swear. 

" ' Good evening,' sez I, quite polite and pleasant like. 

" ' What the - - do you mean by coming here at this hour 
of the night?' he roared. It wasn't more than eight o'clock. 

" ' I came to see your daughter, Mercy, and I propose to 
see her before I leave the premises,' I replies, cool as a cucum- 
ber on ice^ Before he had time to answer me, Mercy, who had 
woman-like left her door a little open so as to hear what was 
going on, came forward. 

"'What is the matter, father?' Then, catching sight of me, 
she kinder gave a gasp; 'O Zach, is it you?' she sez. 

"'Yes, Mercy, it is me, and I have come for you to choose 
between your father and your lover. If you care enough for 
me, come. There is a carriage at the door, we will drive to the 
preacher's and be married this very night ; but if you love your 
father best, jest say the word, and I will go away and never 
come pestering you again.' 

" ' Yes, Mercy,' spoke up the old man, ' do as he sez and 
choose between us your old daddy who has loved and taken 
care of you ever since you were a leetle, teeny, toddling girl, 
or this worthless scoundrel whom you have only known a twelve- 
month. Make your choice now, for, by - , if you leave my 
house to-night to marry that man you will never enter it again 
while I live.' 

" ' I have chosen,' said Mercy, and her voice never trem- 
bled, although the big tears were running down her cheeks. 
' You have been good to me, father, all my life except now 
when I most need your forbearance.' Mercy is educated, 



I8Q9-] ZACH'S "INTERESTS" 221 

you know, talks like a regular school-teacher," interpolated the 
narrator with an air of pardonable pride. 

" ' It breaks my heart to grieve you, but I love Zach, and I 
cannot give him up/ and with that she placed her little, slim 
hand in mine. 'Why will you make it so hard for me, father? 
You have two other daughters, but poor Zach has no one to 
love him nobody but me.' 

"Talk about your angels! I had sort of lost belief in them 
since my mother died and left me a poor little codger of ten, 
but I believed in them then, for if Mercy did not look for all 
the world like them pictures we see of angels in the illustrated 
Bibles, you may shoot me for a jack-rabbit ! I kinder felt 
sorry for the old man that night ; when we've struck it rich 
ourselves we are mighty apt to be easy on any poor devil who 
is down on his luck, and I knew Mercy was the favorite child. 
Every speck of anger had died out of his voice, and it only 
sounded solemn when he answered her. 

" ' Go/ sez he, ' and remember that as you have made your 
bed you must lie in it ; from this hour you are no daughter of 
mine/ With that he shut the door in our faces. 

" Well, sir, if I wasn't a proud man that night you never 
saw one ; I fairly hugged myself all the way to the minister's. 
You see I couldn't hug Mercy, as there was a third party in 
the carriage and she kind of bashful anyway. ' Zach/ sez I to 
myself, ' you 're a daisy ! a regular Jim-dandy, old boy, and 
that's what ! ' Soon after we were married I bought this little 
place for Mercy 'cause she never could bear the town, and here 
we have lived ever since the boy was born. I don't believe 
she regrets having taken old Zach, ugly as he is, and I know 
she has made earth pretty nigh a heaven for me. She has 
a powerfully affectionate nature, and it used to worry her con- 
siderably for her father to take no notice of her ; but the old gent 
died a few years ago, and before passing in his checks he sent 
for Mercy and forgave her it's my opinion the forgiveness 
ought to have come from the other side. He sent for me, too ; 
reckon he had found that I wasn't as black as I had been 
painted. I never did have much use for the old cuss, but 
I went through the prodigal son business just to please Mercy." 

By this time we were within sight of the house, a neat- 
looking, two-story dwelling, with Virginia creeper and Madeira 
vines climbing over the rude porch, and beds of gaudy flowers 
scattered here and there throughout the yard, all bespeaking 
careful attention. 



222 ZACH'S "INTERESTS" [May, 

We alighted, and I was shown into the dimly-lighted, unpre- 
tentious parlor, while Zach went to find his wife. Again I found 
myself indulging in interested speculations with regard to the 
heroine of this little frontier romance. Not being able to recon- 
cile my ideas of the eternal fitness of things with Zach's story, 
I turned to the centre-table, on which was placed with syste- 
matic precision the usual type of literature that accompanies 
hair-cloth furniture and green crocheted antimacassars. A 
well-thumbed Bible Mercy was evidently of a religipus tem- 
perament the regulation album with its hideously smirking 
family photographs ; the Trial of Mrs. Suratt, Biography of 
Abraham Lincoln, etc. Bent upon self-improvement, I had taken 
up the Records of the Late War, and was endeavoring to recon- 
cile the remarkable statistics therein presented with the true 
facts, when Zach entered the room leading by the hand a boy 
of six or seven years, and followed by a pale, timid-looking 
little woman whom he introduced as his wife. From his air of 
proud possession one would have imagined they were a bridal 
couple instead of eight years married. Here, indeed, marriage 
was not a failure. Mercy, I perceived, was as neat in her at- 
tire as in her surroundings, and, although laying no claim to 
beauty, she had more sweetness and refinement in her face 
than is usually seen in women of the laboring class very dif- 
ferent from the coarse-voiced, red-elbowed female whom one 
would naturally picture as Zach's helpmate. 

Truly Love is the greatest of all magicians ; not only does 
he turn the dross of life to gold, but he blinds our eyes so 
that we see nothing imperfect in the object of our affections. 
Every day we find some new Titania endeavoring to hide the 
ears of some new Bottom and veil the ass with rose-entwined 
garlands of pure affection. Perhaps it is as well ; a great deal 
of hypocrisy is necessary in this world in order to make it at 
all endurable. I saw how Zach's rude features took on a softer 
expression, and his voice a gentle tone, whenever he addressed 
his wife ; she, in turn, appeared to anticipate his every wish, 
and read his thoughts almost before they were uttered. 

Her sister afterwards told me that when Zach was away 
Mercy went about like one in a dream ; she would stand at the 
door for hours looking down the road, seemingly oblivious to 
everything around her ; very different from the busy house- 
keeper she was at other times. Shortly after our trip to the 
Mangas valley Zach came to my office and requested me to 
draw up his will. 



1899-] ZACH' s " INTERESTS." 223 

"Not that I feel like passing in my checks and crossing the 
Great Divide just yet," he remarked by way of explanation, 
"but when a man has interests he can't be too careful." 

I agreed with him, and in the will he left everything to 
Mercy unconditionally his child was not even mentioned. 

" What about your son ? " I asked. " Don't you propose 
making any provision for him ? " 

"Lord bless you, sir, Mercy '11 look after the boy; no need 
of my worrying about him so long as she is above ground." 

Tha4: was the last time I ever saw Zach. A good opening 
in my. profession having been offered me in my old home, I 
gladly shook the dust of S - from off my feet, and soon, in 
the busy interests of my new life, both Zach and Mercy, and 
the little idyl in which they played a part, were forgotten. 

Three years later I was on my way to California, and as it 
was a business trip combined with pleasure I concluded to stop 
over at S - and revisit old haunts. Thirty-six months had 
wrought great changes ; I scarcely recognized the rambling 
mining village I had. left in the flourishing town that greeted 
my alien eyes, yet I missed many of the old faces. 

The morning after my arrival as I was hurriedly turning a 
corner I almost ran into a frail-looking woman, dressed in deep 
mourning, whom I recognized as Mercy Wilson. I at once 
proceeded to make inquiries concerning Zach. He had been 
killed, they told me, shortly after I left for the East ; the 
" Golden Nugget " caved in and several men lost their lives by 
the disaster. Zach was among the number. 

"The shock went nigh on to killin' his wife," said an old 
miner who had worked with Zach and who was giving me the 
details of the sad affair. " For weeks the doctors thought she 
would die whether or no, but she pulled through. These sickly 
sort of women hang on the longest after all. She sold her 
place as soon as she got well and moved into town so that the 
boy could go to school, and now she takes in sewing and makes 
a pretty good livin', they say. Zach left her fixed mighty com- 
fortable, but she won't touch a cent of that money is a saving 
it all fer the kid. Fine woman that ! It allus was a puzzle to 
me how she could have cared for sech a pore, ugly scoundrel 
as Zach Wilson." 

I turned away moralizing. So many things are mysteries in 
life ! I almost envied Zach the prize he had won, though now 
lost to him for ever the wealth of a good woman's love^. 




224 LETTERS OF GANGANELLI (CLEMENT XIV.) [May, 
LETTERS OF GANGANELLI (CLEMENT XIV.) 

BY REV. ETHELRED L. TAUNTON. 

HE best and most calumniated of the popes," as 
the Encyclopaedia Britannica calls him, is mostly 
known to the general reader as the pope who 
in 1773 suppressed the Society of the Jesuits. 
In doing so, nothing can be too bad or too 
good to be said of him, according to the view taken of that 
act. Without going, however, into the question of the circum- 
stances which led up to the suppression of the great society, 
we think that perhaps some points in the character of Clement 
XIV. which we can gather from his correspondence when a 
humble Franciscan, will go far to enable us to arrive at a fair 
estimate of what the man really was ; and so give us grounds 
for weighing impartially what friends and enemies have said. 
Fortunately there fell lately into our hands a somewhat rare 
work : Letters of Pope Clement XIV., in two volumes, a transla- 
tion made in 1777 from the French. The correspondence dates 
from 1747 to April 2, 1773, though in this article we shall only 
use such letters as were written before the cardinalate. These 
letters used to be greatly admired, and indeed with reason; 
for they show that Ganganelli was a man of wonderful mind. 
Highly educated, he had a largeness of view which comes to 
one almost as a surprise; a simplicity of purpose which recog- 
nized only conscience as its guide ; a plain, common sense 
view of religion ; and an openness to recognize facts which are 
too often blinked at as " not edifying." He had no sympathy 
with that idea of edification which is nt>t based upon truth ; 
and has some remarkably sharp and well-deserved censures 
upon those who substitute walls of pietism for religion. 

Just a word as to his life. Born, in 1705, at St. Arcangelo, 
near Rimini (his father was a physician), he entered the Fran- 
ciscan Order at Urbino, being then in his eighteenth year. 
He was called to Rome to teach theology in the College of 
St. Bonaventura. Benedict XIV.. appointed him a consultor of 
the Holy Office, saying " that he joined an amazing memory to 
extensive learning ; and what is more agreeable, he is a thou- 
sand times more modest than the most ignorant, and so cheerful 



1899-] LETTERS OF GANGANELLI (CLEMENT XIV.) 225 

that it could not be supposed that he had ever lived in retire- 
ment." Clement XIII. raised him to the sacred purple; and 
the messenger who went to acquaint him began by demanding, 
in somewhat an intimidating tone, if he were conscious to himself 
of having discharged his duty properly and if he had nothing to 
reproach himself with; adding "that a number of things had 
been said of him to the Holy Father; that from the dread of his 
being too much affected with it, he hesitated to inform him of 
the orders of His Holiness; but he could not help letting him 
know that it was the pope's pleasure that he should absolutely 
yes, absolutely be made cardinal." This was on September 
24, 1759. Though raised to the highest rank, he preserved all 
his simple humility, living still in his convent so much so, that 
an English peer who frequently visited him used to say: 
" I cannot find the Cardinal Ganganelli ; I find only a friar 
filled with humility." His society was much sought after by the 
learned, and his geniality made him a universal favorite. He 
succeeded to the Papacy May 19, 1769, and retained all his 
old ways. When told that the papal dignity required him to 
keep a costly table, he replied: "Neither St. Peter nor St. 
Francis taught him to dine sumptuously," and in reply to the 
remonstrances of the head cook, he said : " You shall not lose 
your appointment, but I will not lose my health to keep your 
hand in." He was his own intimate councillor, saying that a 
sovereign who had a number of confidants was infallibly gov- 
erned and often betrayed; adding, "I sleep sound when my 
secret is my own." Cautious, slow, and prudent, he let his 
mind take time over any serious business. " Our imagination 
is often our greatest enemy," he writes to Cardinal Stoppani ; 
"I am striving to weary mine before I act." He died in his 
seventieth year, September 22, 1774. 

Now to give some few extracts from his letters, written in the 
unrestrained intercourse of friendship. We only choose here 
such parts as illustrate points in his character. And we must ex- 
ercise self-control, lest, where there is so much golden thought, 
we might be tempted to exceed the bounds of a magazine article. 

To a Gentleman preparing to become a Trappist Monk (Oct. 29, 1747). 

" We ought to deliberate well before we take up a new load 
of obligation. The Gospel is the best guide for a Christian ; 
and to admit of one being buried in solitude, the vocation 
ought to be well tried. There is something extraordinary in 
whatever takes us out of the common road of life, and in 
VOL. LXIX. 15 



226 LETTERS OF GANGANELLI (CLEMENT XIV.) [May, 

embracing the life of a monk we ought to dread some illusion. 
. . . Besides the difficulty of finding a great number of re- 
ligious truly fervent, they ought to be apprehensive of injuring 
the state by rendering themselves useless members of society. 
We are not born monks ; we are born citizens. . . . When 
at La Trappe, it is true, you will pray to God day and night ; 
but cannot you direct your thoughts continually to him though 
in the midst of the world? It is not in words that the merit 
of prayer consists. . . . Many respectable writers have not 
hesitated to impute the remissness in monasteries to a tiresome 
repetition of forms of devotion. They thought, with reason, 
that the attention could not be preserved during too long 
prayers, and that bodily labor is of more advantage than con- 
tinual singing of psalms. The world would not have exclaimed 
so much against the monks if they had been seen usefully emr 
ployed. . . . St. Benedict was sensible that we ought to be 
useful to our country, and in consequence instituted a school 
for gentlemen at Monte Cassino. He knew what sort of laws 
the love of our neighbor inspires." 

To a Papal Chamberlain. 

" Gaiety is the true medicine for the studious ; the mind and 
heart should be dilated when it has been contracted by obstinate 
toil. Blossoming is as necessary to the human mind as to 
trees, to make it recover its verdure and flourish ; to us there 
are some folk like rose-trees without flowers, who present noth- 
ing to view but bark and prickles. When I meet such I do 
not say a word, but pass by as quickly as possible for fear of 
being stung ! Gaiety retards old age ; there is always a reviving 
freshness which accompanies gaiety, instead of the pale 
wrinkles that are the produce of cares. Benedict XIV. would 
not enjoy such good health if he were not always gay ; he lays 
down the pen to give vent to some bonsmots, and resumes it 
without ever being fatigued." 

To a Lady (January 2, 1749). 

" True devotion, madam, neither consists in a careless air nor 
in a 1 brown habit. Most pious people imagine, though why I 
don't know, that clothes of a dark color please Heaven more 
than those of a lighter and livelier hue ; yet we find angels are 
always painted either in white or blue. I do not love piety 
which proclaims itself. . . . Observe, moreover, that the lady 
who talks scandal in company, or appears peevish or in an ill 
humor against mankind, is generally dressed in brown ! Singu- 



1899-] LETTERS OF GANGANELLI (CLEMENT XIV.) 227 

larity is so little allied to true devotion that we are ordered in 
the Gospel to wash our faces when we fast, that we may not 
appear remarkable. . . . The world would not have ridiculed 
religion so much had not its devotees given room for it. 
Almost always inflamed with bitter zeal, they are never satisfied 
except with themselves, and would have every one submit to 
their whims because their piety is often the effect only of 
caprice. . . . False devotees do little less injury to the cause 
of religion than the openly profane ; . . . they have a restless, 
impetuous, persecuting zeal, and are commonly either fanatical 
or superstitious, hypocrites or ignorant. When you find no 
rancor in your heart, nor pride in your mind, no singularity in 
your actions, and that you observe without affectation or trifling 
the laws of God and the Church, then you may believe you are 
in the way of salvation." 

To a Canon of Osimo (February 6, 1749). 

" Religion will never be perfectly established till it has no 
other principle but chanty ; for neither knowledge nor exterior 
magnificence constitutes its merit, but the love of God alone. 
It is the basis of our worship, and if we are not persuaded of 
this truth we are only images of virtue." 

To Mgr. Cerati (July 8, 1749). 

" The pope only discharges his duty in vindicating the 
memory of Cardinal Noris. It would be cruel to declare a man 
a heretic because he follows the opinions of the Augustinians 
or the Thomists ; that is to say, doctrines solemnly approved of 
by the church. But when we are impelled by fanaticism we 
see nothing and become deaf to reason." 

To .the Abbate Nicolini (February 28, 1750). 

" Notwithstanding the dreadful consequences of this new 
philosophy, I am of opinion that we ought not to exasperate those 
who profess it. There are some people unconvinced who de- 
serve to be pitied, because, after all, faith is a gift of God. 
Jesus Christ, who thundered at the Pharisees, said nothing to 
the Sadducees. Unbelievers will be much more easily led back 
by gentleness than by severity. They affect a haughtiness to 
those who wound them keenly ; and the more so, because they 
are answered frequently with much more reaso^ii^r^an is 
found even in their own discourses and writing ikpst 
petty ecclesiastic sets about attacking them ratfuL thi\k\ig 
that, though his zeal is laudable, his understan 




22$ LETTERS OF GANGANELLI (CLEMENT XIV.) 

keeping pace with it, he may do more harm than good. Con- 
verts are not made by declaration or invective. Examples, 
reason, and moderation are wanted, and we should begin by 
allowing that religion has indeed mysteries which are incom- 
prehensible and which cannot all be explained. . . . Every 
impetuous zeal which would bring down fire from heaven ex- 
cites only hatred. The church has the reputation of being of a 
persecuting spirit, in the eyes of unbelievers, from many of its 
ministers showing too ardent a zeal. ... If God bears with 
unbelievers, we ought to bear with them, since they make a 
part of his plan ; and by them religion appears stronger and the 
faith of the righteous is exercised." 

To Cardinal Crescenci (March i, 1750). 

" It is known that sorcerers nowadays are not super- 
natural agents, and that a belief in Black Magic (though ac- 
cording to Scripture the devil is a real being) is almost always 
the effect of superstition or the work of a troubled brain." 

To a Gentleman of Ravenna (March 3, 1750). 
" I could never have suspected that you would have applied 
to an obscure religious like me to decide a family dispute. 
. . . Besides my incapacity in this affair, I do not love to 
give advice in secular matters. I remember St. Paul forbids 
every minister of the Lord from interfering in temporals. A 
man who is dead to the world should not intermeddle in the 
affairs of it. Every religious society that neglects this maxim 
will sink into oblivion sooner or later ; as every religious who 
intrudes into families to know their secrets, to regulate marriages 
and wills, is equally contemptible and dangerous." 

To a Dominican (June n, 1750). 

" We reproach Fleury with being too zealous for the liber- 
ties of the Gallican Church. ... See how difficult it is to 
write to please every government ; but sensible men give up to 
the French and Romans their different pretensions, so that the 
faith be not affected. Every country has its opinions, as every 
individual his whim." 

To an Abbess (November 10, 1750). 

" I think like our Father St. Francis (pardon my sincerity), 
who said ' that God has debarred us from having wives that 
we may be inspired with a desire of being religious ; but I am 
afraid the 'devil has given us sisters to torment us/ He knew 
how difficult /t; is to direct nuns. . . . Talk but little with 



1899-] LETTERS OF GANGANELLI (CLEMENT XIV.} 229 

your directors and a great deal with God, and peace will flourish 
again in your abbey." 

To Count- - (a recent convert from sin), (November 20, 1750). 
" If you look upon religion in the great, as it ought to be 
viewed, you will not find in it the puerilities of trifling devo- 
tions. Never open those mystical or apocryphal books which, 
under the pretence of nourishing piety, amuse the soul with 
insignificant ceremonies, leaving the mind without light and the 
heart without compunction." 

To a Friar appointed Provincial (January 31, 1751). 
" Employ no spies except to discover the merit of those 
who are too modest to let it appear. ... I will not men- 
tion duplicity, unfortunately too much practised by the heads 
of religious houses. . . . You will never prefer a complaint 
against any one without having several times warned him of 
your intention or without previously acquainting him. . . . 
Be communicative, for we lose much of the good will of those 
we govern by disgusting coldness. . . . Have few confidants, 
but when you make any let it not be by halves, for they will divine 
the rest and will consider that they are not obliged to be secret." 

To the Bishop of Spoletto (March 17, 1751). 
" What your lordship wrote to me on the subject of the 
relics of saints does honor to your discernment and to your reli- 
gion. There are two rocks to be shunned by all true Catho- 
lics : that of believing too much, and that of not believing 
enough. If we were to give credit to all the stories told of the 
relics which are shown in every country, we must frequently 
suppose that a saint has ten heads or ten arms. This abuse, 
which has procured us the name of superstitious, has happily 
only taken root among the ignorant. Thank heaven ! it is well 
known in Italy (and the clergy repeat it often) that there is 
nothing absolutely necessary but the mediation of Jesus Christ ; 
and that of the saints, as the Council of Trent has formally 
declared, is only ' good and useful.' ... If there are more 
superstitions in Italy than elsewhere, it is because the people 
have a more lively imagination, and consequently are more 
ready to catch without reflection at everything that is pre- 
sented to their minds." 

To Cardinal Quirini (July 3, 1751). 

" It must be allowed that we live in a strange age. Never 
was there less religion, and yet never was it more talked about ; 



230 LETTERS OF GANGANELLI (CLEMENT XIV.) [May, 

never was there more wit, and never was it more abused. Men 
would know everything, yet study nothing ; they decide upon 
everything, and yet sift nothing thoroughly. ... If many 
of our pastors would fairly examine themselves, they would ad- 
mit that by their haughtiness and dissipation they have given 
room for murmurings and complaints. Wherefore dissemble 
what all the world knows?" 

To Father Louis of Cremona (March I, 1753). 

" The mouth of the preacher is truly the mouth of God. 
Alas ! then, what should be thought of him who can utter buf- 
fooneries and trifles from the pulpit?" 

To Count - - (December 31, 1751). 

" The first book I would place at the head of your library 
is the Gospel, as the most necessary and most sacred. It is 
right that the book which contains the principles and basis of 
religion should be the foundation of your studies. It is there 
you will learn to know what you owe to God, and to the wis- 
dom and goodness of the Mediator in whom we hope and who 
hath reconciled heaven and earth by the shedding of His 
Blood. . . . It is quite simple, all is within reach of every 
capacity, and all is divine." 

To Count - - (April 19, 1752). 

" If scruples lay hold of you, you are ruined ; you will 
either relapse into dissipation or serve God like a slave. . . . 
The vessel of clay to which our souls are attached does not 
allow of angelical perfection. Religion is degraded when we 
apply our attention to trifles. . . . Only false devotees are 
scandalized at everything and see the devil everywhere. Fulfil 
the law without laboring in spirit and without straining the 
imagination, and you will be pleasing 'to God." 

To Mgr. Cerati (November 13, 1753). 

" Cardinal Bentivoglio said we should see an Englishman 
when we wanted to think, and a Frenchman when we wanted 
to talk." 

To Cardinal Spine Hi (July 3, 1752). 

" If Pharisaical zeal were allowed to govern, we should very 
soon have nothing in the church but trifling ceremony ; and 
religion, which is so beautiful and sublime, would become a 
round of superstitions. People generally love things which do 
not reform the heart ; and are pleased to grow old without 



1899-] LETTERS OF GANGANELLI (CLEMENT XIV.) 231 

rooting out bad habits, believing a few prayers, repeated in 
haste, sufficient to carry them to heaven. . . . Pharisees 
have lived in all ages and will continue to the end of the 
world ; . . . they lay the faithful asleep by amusing them 
with ceremonials which neither influence the heart nor the un- 
derstanding. . . . Muratori said that trifling devotions for 
the most part resembled the compositions for taking out stains, 
which lessen the spot only in appearance but in fact make it 
larger." 

To Cardinal Quirini (May 31, 1753). 

" The Scholastics often perplexed everything from their solici- 
tude to clear up everything, and often replied to nothing from 
their desire to answer all. . . . Nothing is so dangerous as to 
give as a matter of faith what is only a matter of opinion, and 
to confound a pious belief with a thing that is revealed. . . . 
A truth is never better established than by the universal ap- 
probation of all the churches, which is a circumstance the greater 
part of modern theologians do not sufficiently attend to. ... 
Do not permit your theologians to support free will by denying 
the almighty power of grace ; nor, by enhancing the value of 
the inestimable and entirely free gift, to destroy liberty ; nor 
from too great respect for the saints to forget what is due to 
Jesus Christ. . . . The great fault of some theologians is a 
desire to explain everything, not knowing where to stop." 

To a newly-appointed Bishop (May 30, 1755). 
" Do not suffer the piety of the faithful to be fed with false 
legends, nor to be occupied in petty observances, but teach 
them (your priests) to instruct their flock to have recourse con- 
stantly to Jesus Christ as our only mediator, and to honor the 
saints only in reference to him. . . . It is an odious thing 
in a bishop to know none but those of rank and fortune in his 
diocese. The lower people murmur, and with reason, for they 
are often more precious in the sight of God." 

To a Gentleman of Tuscany (August 16, 1753). 
" It is not by attending to trifling ceremonies that you will 
make your children true Christians. Christianity is the great- 
est enemy to Pharisaical zeal and superstition. The church 
prescribes duties enough without our endeavoring to multiply 
them. We too frequently neglect what is of precept to follow 
what is only of advice, because we love rather to hearken to 
caprice than to reason ; and because pride and singularity per- 
fectly agree." 




CHARITY SWEETENED BY RELIGION BEST ALLEVIATES THE MISERIES OF HUMANITY.^ 




MONTMARTRE AND ITS POOR. 

BY REV-. FRANK X. McGOWAN, O.S.A. 

NY Sunday morning in summer when " the risen 
day " paints its colors on every side, and in 
winter when " the gray-eyed " dawn " smiles on 
the frowning night " an army of mendicants may 
be seen toiling slowly up the steps of the Rue 
Fo) atier and the Rue Devret, which lead to the national votive 
Church of the Sacred Heart on Montmartre in Paris. Ragged 
and vagabond, they pass through a small door in the board en- 
closure of the Rue Saint Eleuthere, and direct their steps 
towards the crypt, going under the scaffolding which supports 
the platform above to the main entrance of the church. 

Who are these conspirators in tatters ? Do they come to 
a plenary assembly to elect a new king? No, these poor victims 
who have been vanquished in the battle of life come hither 
responsive to the invitation of Him who hath said : " Come to 
me, all you that labor, and are burdened, and I will refresh 
you." 



1899-] MONTMARTRE AND ITS POOR. 233 

In this gay city of Paris, where evil seemingly rules, the 
good is not altogether disarmed, and this truth is manifest in 
the numerous acts of faith and charity daily and monthly per- 
formed without particular display or boastful clamoring. The 
state enrolls in its service an army of functionaries to direct 
the stream of official charity. The church has only to appeal 
to the devotion of her children, and benevolent works are forth- 
with multiplied under every form. Of these works one of the 
holiest is that of the Sunday Mass for the poverty-stricken in 
the Basilica of the Sacred Heart. 

On entering the crypt the mendicants receive a hymn-book, 
and while sitting on the benches set apart for them, they unite 
their feeble voices in the plain chant of the office. Devout 
laymen direct the singing and lead \n prayer for the congrega- 
tion of beggars. These pious laics are, generally speaking, men 
of the upper classes of society, many of them favorites of 
fortune, and it is a touching sight to witness how interested 
they are in the physical and moral misfortunes of their beggar- 
wards. 

At eight o'clock Mass begins, and a salutary instruction is 
given ; at nine o'clock these two or three thousand men (the 
number is fully that in winter) depart from the crypt, return 
their hymn-books, and receive a pound of bread with a bowl 
of soup. All this is done in religious silence and with perfect 
order. The Work, as it is called, .distributes in this way 100,000 
pounds of bread annually. 

Thrice in the week these poor people are at liberty to go 
to the dispensary in the Rue du Mont-Cenis, where they may 
receive medical advice and remedies, and also a bowl of meat- 
soup. 

Here catechists instruct these forlorn and often neglectful 
men in the principles of religion, long ago forgotten but now 
vividly recalled. A room for correspondence with letter-paper 
and envelopes is placed at their disposal, and the dispensary 
officials guarantee to post or forward the: letters. As we readily 
see, these poor, disinherited beings obtain the bread of the soul 

as well as the bread of the body. 
> 

WHENCE THESE POOR ? 

Of what elements is this army of tatterdemalions composed ? 
What catastrophes, griefs, vices have brought them to their 
wretched condition? These rags cover poor workingmen with- 
out work or courage, unclassified paupers, the infirm, the aged 



234 MONTMARTRE AND ITS POOR. [May, 

and professional beggars. There are some of all classes, but 
the unemployed workingmen form the largest part of the con- 
tingent. While many of these indigent laborers are Parisian by 
birth, "to the manner born," the majority are haggard and 
disheveled workingmen who have come from all parts of France 
in the expectation of finding work easily. Their very dress 
and shoes bear the imprint of many unavailing journeys. 
Lacking work, Paris is only too often fatal to them. Dis- 
appointed in their quest for employment, the} 7 spend in 
drink whatever little money they have brought to the gay 
capital, for the city appeals powerfully to them in their 
depressed state, and strong liquors, such as brandy and 
absinthe, are the temptations to which they inevitably suc- 
cumb. These despondent workingmen would be infinitely 
better off if they had stayed in their provincial homes. Yet 
these poor pl&dders roam over every portion of the French 
capital, their robust arms asking only for work, only to be dis- 
appointed, and their misery is indeed extreme, for this great 
pulsating city weighs heavily on the wretched, the feeble, the 
little, the poor defenceless creatures of the world. What heart- 
rending stories they who have been conquered in the struggle 
for life could tell to their more fortunate brethren! 

The old, hoary with age, with tottering step, eyes dim and 
dull, are numerous also, and it is a pitiable spectacle to see 
these aged men seeking the benefits of religion, men without 
home, fire, bread, or children. 

The unclassified as well as professional beggars are present 
in respectable numbers. 

The unclassified, men who have seen the bright and the 
dingy sides of life, are easily recognizable by their language, 
their soft hands, and their poor attempt at a toilette. Many 
of these unfortunates have descended successively all the rungs 
of the social ladder and have stepped at last into the region 
of want. There may be among them men of the professions, no- 
taries, lawyers, physicians, and reduced capitalists, but they are 
rarely met with. Paris and provincial France seem to be able 
to supply some occupation, however meagre, to those who once 
moved in the upper walks of life. Again, pride is a powerful 
factor in the career of French professional men ; they are 
sensitive to a fault at ill success, and, as we know from the 
daily journals, too many of them seek in the throes of self-in- 
flicted death freedom from what they deem dishonor in the 
eyes of the world, chill and hopeless poverty. 



1899-] MONTMARTRE AND ITS POOR. 235 

CHARACTER OF FRENCH PAUPERISM. 

There is a marked difference between the conditions of 
mendicants in France and America. Here all professions and 
avocations are represented in the degradation and misery 
of our large cities ; in the purlieus of want and crime are 
many men who have seen better days, and intelligent and 
well-bred tramps are often found in the vagrant multitudes 
who infest our highways, especially in the summer season. In 
France there is little of tramp-existence as it is portrayed in 
our American life, or as it has been since the close of the 
Civil War. Many reasons are suggested to account for the 
non-existence of trampism in France. According to some writers, 
a reason is that the relations of capital and labor are very 
harmonious ; there is, comparatively speaking, in France a plen- 
tiful supply of labor, and the workingman earns a substantial 
and satisfying wage. It is a fact that a fairly extended strike 
occurred some months ago in Paris, and it was such an anomaly 
in labor and governmental circles that it created an excite- 
ment bordering on a revolution. Since the days of the Com- 
mune Paris never had such a public convulsion. 

Besides, the stringent French laws, bearing on public begging 
and soliciting, tend in their enforcement to decrease the preva- 
lence of this social eyesore, and the ready charity afforded by 
governmental, and particularly religious organizations, such as 
patronages, works, conferences, and charitable societies con- 
nected with the different churches, does away with many of the 
harrowing spectacles of penury and want observable in other 
large European and American cities. The votaries of the 
superior employments of life are not then to be found among 
that mendicant host who gather each Sunday on Montmartre 
to worship God and receive in his holy name the necessaries 
of life. But, as the French proverb runs, " in the absence of 
thrushes, one will eat blackbirds," so we are satisfied to listen 
to the experience related by a former schoolmaster a disciple 
of Diogenes that is to say, a pupil of the Cynical school. 

THE STORY OF ONE OF THEM. 

As this not unhappy man sipped his small glass of trois-six, 
which he had invited his companion to take and also to pay 
for, he told his story in few and simple words : 

" I was schoolmaster at B , and had shone with great 

brilliance in the renowned family universitaire, until one day 



236 . MONTMARTRE AND ITS POOR. [May, 

an inspector of schools took it into his head to criticise my 
stock of learning and my methods of teaching before a 
full class of scholars. I answered him by throwing an ink- 
stand at his head. The authorities had the bad taste to turn 
me out of school for this peccadillo. I came to Paris, and I 
have since worked at all trades but the right one. I have 
written articles for newspapers, which the editors found incom- 
prehensible ; I offered my services to a stock broker, a fright- 
ful thief, who took the whim to suspect my delicacy of execu- 
tion in his work; I have been a public scrivener, a dancer in 
a theatre of the suburbs, a dealer in notes and countermarks, 
and am now at last a beggar. The trade is not so bad. I 
manage to lead a free and independent life, and, with a certain 
amount of natural ability, I am able to lay by some few sav- 
ings for my old years." 

This sharp-witted man had made an art of mendicancy, and 
had acquired from experience a thorough knowledge of all the 
places where charity was dispensed, and had his own selection 
from them. Fortifying himself with more of the exhilarating 
liquor, he proceeded : " I know all of the religious communi- 
ties in Paris," and he mentioned one religious establishment in 
particular. " The house," he said, " is a good one ; the ladies 
who visit the chapel are liberal, but the topographical situation 
is very bad indeed for the poor beggars. What is needed 
there is a large porte-cochere to give us shelter in the in- 
clemency of weather and also from the attention of the police." 
Think of an American beggar or tramp discoursing on his 
needs in this off-handed, almost philosophical manner ! Imagine 
the impatience or the fury of an American citizen listening to 
such semi-impudent talk, and being compelled to pay almost 
perforce for liquor drunk by the beggar and not ordered by 
the payer ! Thus spoke the sometime schoolmaster, who united 
in himself two classes of mendicants, the professional and the 
unclassified. He absorbed one after the other three glasses, 
and then he said in a most amiable tone: " Let us go you 
pay ; I must quit, because I have an important engagement. 
I shall buy the paper and read your article." This man was 
a type of a class to be met with often enough in the metro- 
politan city of Paris. 

He had been cast out from his legitimate calling, and 
eventually became, through the exigencies of disappointment 
and hunger, a vagrant moving around a vicious circle in a city 
that ought to have given him employment. He seemed to 






1899-] MONTMARTRE AND ITS POOR. 2$? 

have lost all heart to work ; he was even insensible to the 
social and political events happening around him. It was not 
that he lacked intelligence or was without some sympathy for 
human life. No, he was one of that generation of public 
teachers who were educated in a wrong groove. He was taught 
and forced to teach pure naturalism to the rising youth of 
France. His motto was "Sans Dieu," his catechism " les 
Droits de 1'homme," his religion atheism pure and simple, and 
when severe correction was administered to him, his acceptance 
of it was a disgraceful act of violence, unheard of in a Catho- 
lic school. Crouching under a tyranny worse than any African 
slavery, he felt impelled to break his bonds and assert his 
manhood. As a consequence, he was expelled from his position 
of schoolmaster and blacklisted in every educational bureau of 
France. At last driven into beggary, he has no hope in life, 
save what is given him by the kindly offices of that religion 
which he despised in the days of his prosperity and which he 
taught his young pupils to revile. Besides affording him relief 
in his misery, the persecuted church will bless his dying hours 
with all the sacramental helps in her possession. Is there any- 
thing to equal the charity of God's holy church ? 

THE NEEDY AND HELPLESS POOR. 

The generality of those who frequent the Mass for the 
poverty-stricken in the Basilica of Montmartre is composed of 
those who have fallen into unmerited misery : poor laborers 
without work, the aged and infirm, who form nine-tenths of 
the wretched throng. In the Oblate Fathers, who have charge 
of this magnificent votive church, in which the daily prayer to 
the Sacred Heart is Sauvez la France, these poor creatures find 

"A heart for pity and a hand 
Open as day to melting charity." 

And it is only in a religious establishment such tenderness 
for God's poor is manifest. If the kind and benevolent feeling, 
that is the direct outcome of devotion to the bleeding Heart of 
the Saviour, were not warm and active in the breasts of these 
religious men, to constrain them to acts of compassion when 
poor strangers enter their church, would they not doubtless 
close the door against them, as is daily done by officials who 
are paid to dole out public benefactions to wandering mendi- 
cants, craving from legitimate sources of relief " something for 
God's sake " ? 



238 MONTMARTRE AND ITS POOR. 

POLICE INSPECTORS IN RAGS. 

A word or two relative to other kinds of mendicants, who 
do not number a corporal's guard in this large army of the 
indigent. There is the police-beggar, who cannot be distin- 
guished, in lack of decent dress and in outward dejection of 
manner, from the poorest claimant to Christian charity. The 
chief of police never fails to have his representative at these 
pious ceremonies. The espionage maintained by the police 
authorities of Paris is proverbial. There is no gathering, no 
meeting into which the police inspector does not penetrate. 
Paris is the hot-bed of revolutionism, anarchy, and thievery 
and swindling. Parisian thieves and swindlers are especially 
versatile. They are, to use a newspaper expression, "lightning 
artists in thievery and swindling." They adopt costume and 
manner to suit the demands of their ill-omened avocation. At 
Havre, not long since, Parisian detectives took into custody a 
famous swindler who was about to sail for New York. He 
dressed sometimes in a garb that was a cross between the dress 
of a Spanish serenader and that of one of Buffalo Bill's cow- 
boys. He put on clerical soutane, and thus, as a priest or friar, 
obtained subscriptions for imaginary charities. Again, this 
expert in swindling was an officer of marines, wearing the cross 
of the Legion of Honor, with face bronzed by African suns, 
and he succeeded in borrowing large sums of money from 
military men among the Dreyfusards by representing himself 
as an officer who had to leave the army owing to his conviction 
that the sometime prisoner of Devil's Island was a victim of the 
Jesuits. The Parisian thief and swindler is like the traditional 
flea, now you have it and now you have it not, and the police 
authorities must be ever on the watch for this ubiquitous per- 
sonage. Hence not even these peaceable and religious gather- 
ings on Sundays at Montmartre or at the dispensary on week- 
days are' unattended by police inspectors clad in rags. But 
few conspirators are to be found among these wretched crea- 
tures, whose only thought is to worship, in their misery or old 
age, the God whom they have probably neglected all their 
lives long and to obtain the frugal help of religious benevo- 
lence. 

There is also the beggar who is such for the love of Christ, 
and who follows in the footsteps of the great beggar-saint of 
this century, Benedict Joseph Labre, a Frenchman himself. 
Of this holy, man the Roman Breviary says: " Ita disponente 



1 899.] 



MONTMARTRE AND ITS POOR. 



239 



Deo, ut beatus juvenis arctioris sequelae crucis Christi in medio 
populi spectaculum fieret mundo, et Angelis, et hominibus " ; 
and the biographer of our present Pope, Leo XIII., Mgr. de 
T'Serclaes, declares that the elevation of this marvellous men- 
dicant, Joseph Labre, to the honors of our altars seemed to 
be an audacious defiance hurled against an age that was en- 
tirely sated with material progress and sensual refinement. 
What kind of a beggar is this imitator of the canonized vagrant 
who was the butt of ridicule, persecution, and ill-treatment in 
almost every European capital for Christ's sake ? We do not 
answer, for we do not wish to penetrate too critically into 
God's designs. 

The Mass for the poverty-stricken and its Work battle against 
the moral and material misery which is the parent of malice, 
despair, and crime. At first hunger conducts the mendicant to 
the Basilica of Montmartre ; then his soul is moved deeply 
by the singing of the hymns, the exhortations of the priests, 
and contact with that chanty which welcomes and relieves 
him, and he unconsciously is brought back in tears to the God 
of his First Communion. 

The work of the Sacred Heart in behalf of the poor is a 
boon to French society, and a source of salvation for these 
outcasts of civilization. 





240 THE PRESS AND THE NEXT CONCLAVE. [May, 

THE PRESS AND THE NEXT CONCLAVE. 

BY REV. GEO. McDERMOT, C.S.P. 

'OME TIME, a distant one it is hoped, the Sacred 
College will be called upon to elect a successor 
to St. Peter ; and one may venture to predict 
that that august body will disregard the pre- 
tensions of the states which claim a veto, as 
it is called, at the election. This pretension has never been 
acknowledged as a right. The election of Pius IX. of pious 
memory took place in disregard of it. The ambassador of 
Austria demanded that the conclave should not be held until 
his countrymen should arrive. The emperor held the keys of 
the Papal States, he could have occupied them to enforce his 
will as, in fact, he entered into a part of them during the 
election, to put down revolutionary disturbances but notwith- 
standing this danger to freedom of election the business of the 
conclave proceeded. This claim of the Catholic states to have 
an influence on the choice of the Sacred College, though a 
menace to the spiritual authority, is not without some appear- 
ance of propriety when we look on the surface at the relations 
between the church and the Christian commonwealth. But in 
these relations the secular power has been always trying to over- 
step the line which divides the things which belong to Caesar from 
those which belong to God. It is in some such spirit of aggres- 
siveness the pretension named has its origin. There is no au- 
thority for it in principle or practice similar to the acclamation 
or assent of a people at the coronation of a temporal king, 
like him of France before the Revolution. Christendom is not 
Italy. The king of the States of the Church is the pope. He 
owes nothing to the subject except though the exception is 
everything in the best sense, except what an enlightened con- 
science dictates to a father, a ruler, and a priest. 

If Catholics object to interference on the part of Catholic 
states, what should be said of the forecasts, the criticisms, the 
language of the rationalistic and Protestant press of the world 
concerning the next conclave ? The maxim, Ne queer as quis hoc 
dixerit sed quid dicatur attende, does not apply to the intrusive 
opinions, advices, and predictions of our enemies on this mat- 



1899-] THE PRESS AND THE NEXT CONCLAVE. 241 

ter. We Catholics do not interfere, even when we have the 
constitutional right, in questions of church government and 
doctrine in England. No Catholic of either house of Parlia- 
ment has joined in the discussions agitating sections of the 
Establishment in that country. I hope no Catholic will vote 
on any measure that may result from that agitation. 

I regret indeed that modern toleration and historic criticism 
have no power, or so very little power, upon the Protestant or 
the rationalist when he comes to treat of a Catholic doctrine 
or moral principle, a Catholic saint or statesman ; but at least 
he is within his rights in judging of them in his own way and 
according to his bias. If he prefers refuted charges and old 
misconceptions to exact explanation and historic truth, I am 
sorry for him, but I cannot say he is not free to use his intel- 
lect in that direction. He will exercise this freedom whether I 
like it or not ; he will say I am blinded by unreasoning vene- 
ration if I should express the opinion that the church in the 
twelve centuries of her supremacy proved that hers was the best 
system of ecclesiastical polity, because she preserved authority 
and law where no other influence could have succeeded, and 
he will point out to me as a refutation the errors and the 
crimes of men. If I talk of the material progress of Europe 
from the fall of the Western Empire, when the church replaced 
all that had been destroyed, replaced over and over again the 
works which foreign or domestic war had overthrown, he will 
sneer at what he calls my enthusiasm of faith in not seeing 
that the church made this labor for herself when she paralyzed 
the controlling hand of Rome.* Even on questions of doctrine 
neither of them will permit me to rely upon the revelation of 
the Lord ; one will tell me I derive the Resurrection and the 
Last Judgment from a pagan source, and both that I derive 
Purgatory from a custom acquired by the Jews from their Per- 
sian masters. Well, I allow them to so defame me, but I deny 
their right to kill the reigning pope and appoint his successor. 
We Catholics never think of appointing the state-prelate who 
is to sit on the throne of St. Augustine of Canterbury. 

Indeed, it is a considerable time since Mr. Stead placed 
Cardinal Gibbons on the papal throne. In one of those vivid 
moments we understand so well he saw his Eminence revealed 
in the symbolical motto which stood for a future pope in a 
prophecy of St. Malachi, but which others have since applied 
to Cardinal Svampa. To do him justice, Mr. Stead had a 

* Gibbon, etc., plainly; Guizot, etc., more guardedly. 
VOL. LXIX. 16 



242 THE PRESS AND THE NEXT CONCLA VE. [May, 

theory which explained his overtures to mysticism, and at the 
same time his determining the succession to the supreme pon- 
tificate while Leo XIII. was still in the plenitude of physical 
and intellectual vigor. It was not in his case the wantonness 
of mere magazine or newspaper contempt for Catholic senti- 
ment. There was none of the bald insolence with which the 
ordinary Protestant or the rationalist outrages Catholic feeling. 
Mr. Stead simply had his theory, which could not work until 
he whose symbol was " Ignis ardens " should be called from 
the Potomac to the Tiber ; and therefore it was necessary to 
consign Leo XIII. to the tomb. 

Nor are we too sensitive in complaining of the opinions and 
the forecasts of journalists and publicists. We would not for 
millions deprive the king-makers and cabinet-makers who rule 
the world from their attics of this privilege, any more than of 
their inspiration. As long as for a penny we can read the 
mind of the Archbishop of Canterbury in the Jewish Daily 
Telegraph we enjoy a cheap pleasure. It is good to know before- 
hand, from the London Times, the whims and flashes of the 
potentate who as Emperor of Germany forgets that Electors of 
Brandenburg only two centuries ago were the lackeys of Polish 
kings. We even can accept from Reynold's Paper once the 
anarchical organ of Mr. Chamberlain the opinion that the 
English monarchy will close with the Queen's reign ; there is 
no undue punctiliousness in our way of looking at things but 
we distinctly deny the right of an Italian infidel, a French Jew, 
an English rationalist or Protestant to insult us by presuming 
such an interest in the trials of the church as will leave her no 
liberty at all. 

It may be said that Catholic papers and periodicals have for 
the last ten or twelve years been referring, at more or less 
length, to the health of the Holy Father and the events await- 
ing his death. I disapprove of anything of the kind, but at 
least the writers were his own children. Probably they felt 
bound to advert to matters so delicate and grave in order to 
remove errors or contradict inventions. Catholics must now 
and then break silence for the sake of those who might be 
misled. 

We should prefer to be let alone. No work that has ap- 
peared since the Reformation has done us justice. No matter 
what the character claimed for himself by any writer outside 
the pale, he will be found tainted by prejudices which color his 
judgments if they do not warp his presentation of matters of 



1899-] THE PRESS AND -JHE NEXT CONCLAVE. 243 

fact. M. Guizot is looked upon as a fair-minded man. He 
himself in plain terms states that he regards historical questions 
from a philosophic level. I find his History of France a 
Huguenot pamphlet inspired by Encyclopaedism ; as though the 
Encyclopaedists could be taken as Catholic witnesses. We hear 
Mr. Hallam pronounced judicial. The Constitutional History of 
England, though in certain respects valuable, is an insidious 
argument in favor of the policy that oppressed the Catholics 
of England. If this be a correct estimate of writers supposed 
to carry the highest authority in the two nations standing in 
the forefront of liberal opinion, what is to be expected from the 
crowd who supply their impulses under the name of thoughts 
to the evanescent pages of reviews, magazines, and newspapers ? 
Mr. Gladstone in one of the pamphlets which added nothing 
to his reputation said the position of the pope was still a great 
one, though shorn of much of its power. No doubt the revo- 
lution in Italy, which owed much of its success to him, has 
deprived the pope of his place among European sovereigns ; but 
for all that the ruler of Christendom must be the greatest in- 
fluence in the world. Decius declared he would prefer to hear 
of a rival to the purple than to hear of the election of a 
Bishop of Rome. This judgment as to the influence of the 
office is still applicable. But the Bishop of Rome is the Lord's 
Vicar; we therefore submit, no one has a right to speak of the 
devolution of the office except Catholics, and they because it is 
their duty to pray that he who fills it may be the most worthy. 
For my part, I bore with great gentleness the news that the 
German Emperor had made himself chief bishop of the 
Lutherans. We only know of one question which can in ap- 
pearance be matter for the opinion of the world, and that is 
the security for the exercise of the functions of the pope. In 
a recent article in a French periodical it was suggested that no 
one now would seek it unless a man free from worldly ambi- 
tion. This is beside the question. The motives of a particular 
candidate assuming there is such a thing as candidature are 
in the recesses of his conscience. There can be something 
which wears the appearance of personal ambition in a man who 
honestly believes himself suited for a particular work in the 
church, or the most suited. I admit it is a dangerous motive ; 
perhaps there is alloy in all motives, even those that seem the 
most purely spiritual. The missionary who goes to Corea with 
his life in his hand may have something of the human energy 
which inspires the volunteer of a forlorn hope ; but these impulses 



244 THE PRESS AND THE NEXT CONCLAVE. [May, 

cannot be analyzed too nicely. I doubt if a contemplative with 
long years of experience will venture to distinguish with con- 
fidence between human impulses and the inspirations of the 
Holy Ghost. 

I have another objection to this view : it assumes that the 
temporal sovereignty was an object of ambition, and now, be- 
cause it has gone, only spiritually minded men will covet the 
tiara. This is one of the plausibilities of Liberalism which 
capture well-meaning but inconsiderate people, and which are 
very convincing indeed to the insolent and corrupt whose bla- 
tant utterances are the war-cries of religio-economic faction. 
Such men as these care nothing for the character of a pop.e, 
but they see in the overthrow of the temporal power the first 
great step to the destruction of religion. " The abolition of 
the temporal power," says Mazzini, " manifestly carries with it 
the emancipation of the human mind from the spiritual power." 
"Our final purpose," say the leading Carbonarists, "is that of 
Voltaire and the French Revolution the total annihilation of 
Catholicism and of the Christian idea itself." Guizot and Dr. Lea 
are with Montanelli in objecting to a theocratic tyranny over 
the legislation which deals with marriage and education. Our 
enemies are infinitely various with one bond of unity their 
detestation of the Lord's Church. Their supreme see is hell 
and their invisible head the prince of this world. This may 
seem uncivil language, but what can I say when I find a pub- 
lic lecturer and a high functionary in a Catholic country* 
promulgating principles identical with those of the author of 
LImpero il Papatoft and so with regard to all writers to whom 
religion is subordinate to politics. 

With very great respect, it is a matter of no consequence, 
except to himself, whether or not a member of the Sacred Col- 
lege is actuated by ambition. I am not sufficiently Protestant, 
rationalistic, or infidel to claim authority over another man's 
conscience. If a particular cardinal should seek the place of 
pope through unworthy motives, God pity him ! If he should 
desire it through what he may think good motives he is not 
to be envied I still say God help him ! for he seeks an awful 
burden, a responsibility whose consequences of good or evil 
eternity cannot annul. But in the practical business of election 
the individual electors can only be guided by their judgment 
and conscience, though the judgment in its result is the act 

4 

* Guizot, professor of history in the faculty of literature at Paris and minister of public 
nstruction. Montanelli. 



1899-] THE PRESS AND THE NEXT CONCLAVE. 245 

of God the Holy Ghost ; but putting aside the result, and only 
considering the component parts of the Sacred College, I may be 
permitted to hold that the electors are not more dishonest than 
the members of an English chapter acting under the conge d f e lire 
of majesty informed by say, a Presbyterian prime minister. 

If the system in England be the most admirable instance of 
judicious compromise that wisdom and moderation acting on 
religious enthusiasm could produce so its advocates say and 
if no one thinks of anticipating the death of an English pre- 
late and appointing as his successor one opposed to the opinions 
of his flock, there ought to be a similar reserve with regard to 
that place in Christendom to which two hundred millions of 
people must look not merely may look for guidance as to 
what they are to hold and to reject in matters of faith and 
morals. I deny the right of our enemies to say what ought or 
ought not to be done in a matter so intimately concerning us. 
This, I think, ought to be admitted where there is no question 
of the temporal power. It would be an unheard-of presump- 
tion for a stranger to dictate to a business man how he should 
conduct his concern. Then does the temporal power confer a 
right to criticise, to direct, to intervene? Four European states 
sent a missive to one of the popes of this century censuring 
him for rmsgovernment Satan rebuking sin is not an uncommon 
form of consistency. The subjects of a successor of that pope, 
in pursuance of principles which the rulers of the states in 
question would deal very summarily with in their own do- 
minions, flung off his authority. In these facts we discover 
nothing against the temporal sovereignty very far from it ; 
we only find brutal insolence on the part of rulers who pre- 
sumed to lecture the king of a weak state instead of attending 
to their own affairs ; and we see in the rebellion of the pope's 
subjects the Nemesis which is pursuing through the monarchies 
of Europe kings and ministers unfaithful to the true principle 
on which government rests the authority conferred by the 
King of kings upon his vicegerents.* But the restoration of the 
temporal sovereignty, though not a principle within the do- 
main of dogma, is a political necessity annexed to the exercise 
of the supreme religious authority, so that I cannot concede the 
consideration of its absence is a circumstance to be taken into 
account in judging of those members of the Sacred College who 
are called papabili. 

* The infidel president of a French republic may be the vicegerent of God de facto and 
de jure, but I am at liberty as an individual to prefer that the vicegerent should be a descen- 
dant of St. Louis. 



246 THE PRESS AND THE NEXT CONCLA VE. [May, 

In the confidences which passed between Frederick the Great 
and Voltaire the king wrote as follows : " All the potentates 
of Europe being unwilling to recognize the Vicar of Christ in 
a man subject to another sovereign, will create patriarchs each 
one in his own dominions." He was acute enough to see that 
this would break in pieces the unity of the church and lead to 
realizing the Reformers' formula: the subject must profess the 
king's creed.* There can be no clearer way of putting the 
necessity of the pope's temporal power than the statement of. 
Frederick. Loftier principles might be advanced to support it, 
more profound considerations within the domain of philosophic 
history could be presented to show that providence intended 
it, but the hard and unprincipled sagacity of Frederick sup- 
plies the argument which strikes the statesman to whom reli- 
gion is a department of police for which nothing has yet been 
substituted or is likely to be substituted. 

It is to be regretted that an idea has gone out that the 
Catholic press should henceforth take the place of France, 
Austria, and Spain f in influencing elections to the Papacy. Of 
course this could not take the shape of the veto, but it would 
act in what people understand as the formation and guidance 
of public opinion. The Catholic press is a section of the en- 
tire press, and if it enjoyed a license to dictate to the Sacred 
College one fails to see how it could possess a monopoly in the 
business of pope-making. It lays no claim to infallibility, and 
pressmen outside the church dispute its superior ability and 
knowledge. We should then, instead of the impudent and 
valueless opinions which have been appointing successors to 
Leo XIII. ever since his accession, have the semi-authorized 
foolishness of newspapers all over the world telling the cardi- 
nals what must be done if schism is to be prevented; we would 
have our faithful people wounded, mortified, and confused by 
the accusations, the retorts, and the libels which dishonor poli- 
tical conflicts. Holding as I do that no one should be elected 
unless a man determined to insist, so far as he can, on the 
right of the Holy See to the restoration of the usurped pro- 
vinces,^; I could not approve of the names of those great dig- 
nitaries being flung about in the gutter-press of Italy, shrieked 

*Cujus regio ejus religio. f Some authorities add Portugal. 

\ It is said that Cardinal Micara, in 1846, was in favor of giving the States of the Church to 
Italy. What was Italy but Mazzini ? What is it now ? However, it is possible that the 
" aspirations" of honest men, enlightened by the crimes of the revolutionary government, 
could be satisfied by a federation of Italian states exclusive of the States of the Church, the 
capital at Turin. But then to find the honest men ! 



1899-] THE PRESS AND THE NEXT CONCLAVE. 247 

at in the reptile press of Germany, scorched by fanaticism in 
England, held up to ridicule by the factitious and credulous in- 
fidelity of France, by virtue of any such concession. 

Whatever pretence of propriety there was in tolerating the 
claim called the veto, there could be no justification whatever 
for that put forward by M. di Cesare on behalf of the press.* 
He is a man apparently acquainted with some of the inner 
workings of Italian policy, and may consider that giving the 
Italian press a mission like that of the political papers every- 
where would tend to a reconciliation between the Vatican and 
the Quirinal. Why, the very words I use would remind a feu- 
dal lawyer of the peace which left a disseizor vi et armis in 
possession of the disseizee's inheritance of castle and manor. 
But it means a great deal more than that ; the pope is only the 
trustee of the temporalities. He may yield to superior force ; 
he may again go to the catacombs and rule the church like 
his far-off predecessors, the crown of martyrdom just hovering 
above his brow, but he cannot give away her patrimony. 
There is one thing, said John Chrysostom, I dare not do : Tell 
the empress I dare not commit sin. There are unalterable 
principles, there are duties which bind for ever, and though 
statesmen may intrigue, and armies march, and a ribald press 
defame, God's hour comes to repay his servant's fidelity. I 
put the question in a word : the pope must rule from a prison 
or a throne. Which do men choose for him ? Have two hun- 
dred millions of Catholics no right to what belongs to them 
and their descendants against the few Italians who became 
wealthy in the ruin of their country and to the shame of civil- 
ization ? 

* M. di Cesare states that "an Italian minister for foreign affairs " was anxious that a pro- 
gramme of preparation for the next conclave should be submitted to him. This is probable 
and might have been done in good faith. He is the author of The Conclave of Leo XIII. 




248 ANCIENT AND HONORABLE. [May, 



ANCIENT AND HONORABLE. 

BY JEANIE DRAKE, 
Author of"In Old St. Stephen's," " The Metropolitans," etc. 

'X-CONFEDERATE Major Norman leaned against 
one of the lofty, crumbling brick pillars which 
formed a widely open portal to the plantation 
of Rainford in the parish of Prince George, 
Winyaw. A pair of brilliant red-birds, after ex- 
changing long, clear, eloquent whistles across the live-oak 
avenue, arranged a meeting on the frosty ground at his feet, 
and would have feasted on the crumbs which he absently threw . 
them but for a sudden fluttering descent upon them of sere 
yellow leaves and small brown sparrows in whirling confusion. 
" Be off, you beasts ! " cried the major, with more bitterness 
than the incident called for, and flung at the feathered marau- 
ders a bit of mortar taken from the pillar. With small effect 
it would have been but for the oncoming of a tall, very bony 
and very black old negro, who with grave ceremony handed to 
his master a soft felt hat. 

" You'se a mighty nyoung-lookin' man for yo' years for yo' 
years, Mass' William. But you oughter noo dose is too many for 
you to be out heah in de cold widout yo' hat." 

The major, with visible softening of care-worn features, ac- 
cepted the offering. "But where 's your own, Abram ? " he re- 
marked, " for, entre nous, you 're older than I am." 

" Das true, sah, berry true. But de Lord done gib me ha'ar 
as bushy as Absalung's, ef 'tain't as long." He was, indeed, 
crowned with a thick natural mop of snowy, upstanding wool. 
" 'Scusin'," he added hastily, " what mout look like a reproach- 
in' ob baldness. But you has dat, sah, wid de prophet 'Lijah 
an' udder great men." 

The major listened no longer, for his look dwelt in frowning 
gravity upon some fresh wheel-ruts along the avenue. " Time 
was, Abram," said he, " when we could shut our doors upon 
undesired guests. But Sherman tore down and destroyed more 
than my beautiful hand-wrought iron gates. It seems like yes- 
terday," he went on, "that I found my way, foot-sore and fam- 
ishing, back from Appomattox ; and hardly knew my own home, 
such a wreck as it was ! Furniture, pictures, silver, slaves, all 






1899-] ANCIENT AND HONORABLE. 249 

all gone. All except you, Abram ; and you stood by my dear 
mother, rest her soul ! " 

"Yes, sah," said Abram, reflectively, " a imperdent Yankee 
says to me, he says: * Uncle, you kin cut an' run des like de 
udders.' An' I says to him (wid de grand air ob we-all Nor- 
mans), ' Nyoung man, fust ting, I ain't yo' uncle ; an' nex' ting, 
whar I gwine run to ? Ef you ebber gits as good a place as I 
has at Rainford, you des keep it ; but dat ain't likely." 

This anecdote was probably not new to the major, his gaze 
remaining abstracted, and wandering across roadway and forest 
to where, beyond the creek, high factory-like chimneys showed 
themselves above the tree-tops. " I declare to Heaven," he 
said, half to himself, " that I could have endured to the end 
without a murmur, if the smoke from that stranger's works did 
not blow in my face with every wind to remind me that I was 
forced to sell my birthright for a mess of pottage. It was 
surely hard luck, Abram, when we two had toiled all those 
anxious years to make a living out of the old place, and with- 
out proper tools or men or means to obtain them, that at the 
last to get rid of the mortgage I should let Randall have the 
half he wanted. And then to have phosphate found on his 
part only and over there he piles up his thousands while we 
are as hard up as ever ! " 

" 'Scusin' de libbutty, we ain't," said Abram, politely but 
with decision. " 'Stid o' bein' a fiel' han', I is now yo' pus- 
sonal 'tendant, same like I was in Paris when yo' pa sent you 
on de grand tower arter you done git troo college. An' ef 
Esau was starbin* o' hunger when he 'bleege to sell he birt- 
right, he done show some sense. Wha' good birtright gwine 
do a man when he daid? I dunno much 'bout dese yere Ran- 
dalls. Dey ain't" loftily " ob our ancient regiment, an' I 
'spec' dey's nuttin' but canal ; so you needn't to bodder to 
study 'bout dem" 

" It forces a little study, however," said the major drily, 
"when canaille wishes to ally itself with the ancien regime." 
Custom enabled him thus to interpret the French of Africa- 
atte-Winyaw which bore witness to Abram 's tour abroad. " You 
showed young Mr. Randall into my library this morning and 
those are the marks of his carriage-wheels on my avenue. My 
motherless girl has been your pet for so long, Abram, that I 
may tell you I let him know and not for the first time 
that I have other views for my daughter. Presumptuous in- 
terloper ! " 



250 ANCIENT AND HONORABLE. [May, 

He spoke with fire, but as he moved towards the house his 
old playmate and servant following noted that, the flush of ex- 
citement dying away, a weary look replaced it as of one whom 
life-long anxieties and disappointments had, in spite of great 
courage, overborne. Abram's old white, woolly head was slowly 
shaken ; and when, his master going indoors, he went off across 
fields, himself hobbling a little, his sympathy was presently in- 
tensified by vexed surprise. For on reaching the orchard, 
where every afternoon it was his custom to exasperate the 
plantation youth by counting for their discomfiture the few be- 
lated apples still clinging to wintry boughs, he heard, behind 
the farther hedge, a murmur of voices. To step behind a tree- 
trunk was easy enough ; and then, craning his long neck be- 
tween the branches, to find a spying-hole. 

But here were no thievish pickaninnies to pounce upon. 
The voices were low and restrained, and surely that was the 
top of his own Miss Alicia's graceful head ; and it was young 
Randall who held her hand and was most earnestly urging some 
matter upon her ! Abram gave three soft knocks upon his 
own pate with his bony knuckles, which was his way of accus- 
ing stupidity for not having before guessed the girl's inclina- 
tions in thjs affair. Was it not clearly his duty, in his master's 
interest, to hear what they were saying ? He stole cautiously 
to a nearer sheltering trunk ; then reflected : " 'Tain't fittin' fur 
a Norman listenin' unbeknownst. 'Tis a low-down, poor white 
trash trick. Nubbless obleege," and shuffled with infinite pre- 
caution back to his first tree. Temptation's siren voice lured him 
forward again in the increasing fervor of the speakers' tones 
and gestures; and again he advanced, but stopped short once 
more. " Ain't you know, Abram Norman, dat 'tis as mean to 
listen at haidge-holes as to steal de coppers offen a daid man's 
eyes! " suggested the voice of " nubbless " within and drove him 
back. But a new glimpse of Miss Alicia's head, now upon 
young Randall's shoulder, added such fuel to devouring curiosity 
that, as he told himself later : " Satan mout a-played ball wid 
de poor ole man ontwell de day ob jedgment," had not the 
lovers' meeting now come to an end. Miss Alice went with 
downcast, pensive mien towards the house, and Uncle Abram, 
leaving the apples to count themselves, fell into a fit of mus- 
ing, from which he roused himself to declare portentously to 
the landscape at large: "Yes sah, hist'ry gwine repeat heself. 
Hist'ry gwine repeat heself, onless Unc' Abram tek a han'. " 

He met his young mistress again next morning, as he led 




1899-] ANCIENT AND HONORABLE. 251 

forth from the front gate a little donkey to be loaded, at her 
request, with such leafy decoration for the dining-room as the 
January woods still afforded. " I gwine git it myself dis time," 
he declared. "Las' young fool nigger 1 sent for 'greens/ he 
done bring me collards outen de cabbage patch!" He tugged 
at the bridle now, reprovingly saying: " Wha's de mattah wid 
you, Dandy! Shyin' at yo* own Miss Alice! Missus" with a 
bow more courtly even than the major's, his model " dis here 
donkey done tu'n aside like Balaam's from a angel in he path." 
The smile which greeted his compliment was wan, and the 
girl's eyes looked as though the night past had been given to 
tears rather than to sleep. He shook his head once more, 
turning to watch her up the avenue. This prevented his ob- 
serving the approach of a negro who, with the rude irreverence 
of untrained youth, ran into and would have upset him if 
Dandy's legs had not been stouter than his own. He glared 
at the offender: "Who 'low you, Amos Brown, for projeck 
you'self dataway into a gemman ? Is you blind, or is you des 
crazy? Dese here nyoung niggers please God, dey ain't got 
no manners! An* dey ain't git nuttin' else from dese here fine 
new schools but loafin* an' sassiness an' craps ! Look at dat 
now," in a grumbling undertone, " ef dat imperdent nigger ain't 
done gib a note to Miss Alice, under my ve'ey eyes ! " 

The rest of that day his usual autocratic supervision of un- 
derlings was relaxed to an extreme and significant degree. If 
Alicia Norman had not been wholly and remorsefully preoccu- 
pied herself, she must have remarked the old negro's wistful 
observance of her every movement ; which observance increased 
as afternoon brought again the hour of yesterday's interview 
at the hedge, and did not relax even when that time passed 
without another such. He was in the room when she returned 
to bid her father a lingering second "good night," and again 
a third ; at which Abram pursed up his thick lips and knotted 
his bushy white brows. 

When, all having retired for the night, he closed the house, 
as was his custom, instead of going to bed he inducted him- 
self into a quite remarkably rusty great-coat and hat, and 
trotted out on the avenue and along the road leading to the 
Randalls'. Arrived near their entrance, he kept watch there 
for an hour or two more a hard vigil for so old a man in the 
January starlight, with rheumatic twinges playing about his 
joints, while the cold forced him to keep moving about and 
flapping his arms painfully together. But at the end of this 



252 ANCIENT AND HONORABLE. [May, 

time his watchfulness was rewarded by hearing the new and 
costly gates of this regretted part of old Rainford softly swung 
on their hinges and held open while a carriage was carefully 
driven through. 

" Who's that?" guardedly called the voice of young Randall 
from the vehicle. 

" 'Tis me. 'Tis Abram from Major's Norman's," said the 
old man, a shadowy form, hat in hand, at the carriage step. 

The occupant leaned out. "What is it? What do you 
want?" he asked low but in evident suspense. "Amos, hold 
the horses." 

" Come dis way, sah. Now, dat Amos ain't a-listening'. You 
needn't to go ober to Rainford, sah. She ain't a-comin'," he 
whispered. 

" What what ! Is she ill, or or " 

" No, sah," with the emollient but final air of a plenipoten- 
tiary. "At de las' minute she des fine she kaint leab her pa. 
Not dis way. She de only one he got." 

Eyes accustomed to the starlight might have perceived the 
young man biting his lip in deep chagrin. "Very well, uncle," 
he said after a pause, " I will write her. This is for yourself." 

"No, sah," waving the offering away; "I done dis for lub." 

"Ah, so did I," young Randall murmured involuntarily. 

" No, sah," respectfully but firmly, " 'scusin' de libbutty, 
dat ain't de right kine ob lub dat teks a nyoung lady secret- 
like from her folks to gib low-down trash a chance for talk 
about her." 

Even from a poor old dependent's lips this stung. " Per- 
haps you don't know, old man, that I have been asking her 
father for her for two years." 

"Jacob sarbe fourteen for Rachel," responded Abram, mildly. 
" But ef dat do seem a mite long for dese yere disgen'rate days, 
why, des keep on wid her pa, a-tryin' an' a-tryin'. An' ef I 
fine ef I fine, mind you," magisterially, " dat de chile reelly 
done sot her heart on you well, den dis time you has ole 
Abram's good word." 

With a rueful smile at this, young Randall re-entered his 
carriage and bade the driver return. Then, before the aston- 
ished Amos could realize it, Abram had pressed a dime into 
his unwilling hand, saying with infinite condescension, " For 
holdin' de hosses while I done talk to your massa," and passed 
on with a sense of gratified revenge for the afternoon's affront. 
But the slow smile left his features in a few moments, as he 






1899-] ANCIENT AND HONORABLE. 253 

jogged homeward, knowing that the hardest part of his task 
lay before him. Near his own entrance he strained his eyes, 
peering here and there into the darkness ; but it was just in- 
side that a girlish, cloaked figure stood, and put her hand to 
her heart at the approaching footsteps. 

" 'Tis only yo' ^ole Unc' Abram." 

" Tis only yo' ole Unc' Abram," he told her soothingly, 
" dat brings you notice dat no one won't be a-drivin' here to- 
night. Come in outen de cold, chile, so I kin tell you all about it." 

He led her quietly back into the house, and seeing her 
shiver, placed her near the library fire while he relighted the 
lamp. It was strange that this illiterate old fellow should 
divine that the immediate solace the waiting girl needed was 
assurance that her lover was no laggard. His first words 
proved this. 

" Honey, I done met yo' nyoung Mass' Randall a-tearin' 
an' a-hurryin' here wid he horses a-smokin' an' a-snortin,' an' I 
des tu'n him back." 

"Uncle Abram, how dared you?" 

" I dare do more 'n dat for Mass' William, an' for he chile. 
Dat ain't a fittin' way for my nyoung miss to go to her weddinV 

The girl's wrath held her speechless for a minute. Then 
she said vehemently : " And you have the insolence to stand 
there and tell me that, when I know that you helped your 
Mass' William to carry off my mother to be married, and were 
a witness at their wedding ! " 

" Dar now ! Das des what I want you to relude to, dat I kin 
tell you dat de times is change. 'Lopement was de right t'ing den 
for de ancient regiment, or Abram Norman wouldn't a-been dar ! 
But de lub affairs ob bong tong ain't manage dataway now. 
Ef dar ain't nuttin' against de man, why den 'tis commy fo to 
hab some patience and tek time, an' argufy an' 'splain, an' git 
yo' way in de end. An' ef you has a good, wise, kind pusson 
ob 'sperience to help you, den you 's mighty lucky ! " 

But Alice walked the floor in impatient anger. "You are 
an audacious old meddler ! " she broke out. 

Abram leaned his knotted hands on the library table, bend- 
ing his gaunt body forward until the lamplight shone on the 
kindly, wrinkled old face with its crown of white. " Miss' Alice, 
chile," he said very slowly and quietly, " you ain't nebber spoke 
dat way to Unc' Abram before. Maybe you done forgit dat 
yo' pa an' me was boys togedder. Dat I nuss him when he 
wounded at Shiloh. Dat I wid him all dese years for richer 



254 ANCIENT AND HONORABLE. [May, 

for poorer, for better for wusser. Dat I stan' by yo' ma when 
she d) in' an' promise for tek care ob Mass' William. Would dat 
be tekldn' care to hab somebody come een de night an' steal he 
one ewe lamb? Ain't you see how^bad yo' pa look; how tired- 
like an' wore out ? Ain't you see how he hug you to him to- 
night like you was his only comfort in tribulations an' disap- 
p'intments? An' dis de ve'ey season when he los' yo' ma, an' 
you gwine run off an' leab him in he old age an' loneliness!" 

The girl's eyes drooped as though to hide a dimness;, so 
she started when the speaker, with sudden cheerful change, 
called out: " Mornin', Mass' William! We gwine hab a fine 
day." 

The major, in his dressing-gown, was silent until he 
laid his pistol on the mantel-piece. " I thought,' said he, 
" that it was burglars, and here I find two owls conspiring. 
Alice, isn't it a bit late to give any orders, or to keep this old 
fellow up?" 

And he never suspected why Abram answered for her 
boldly : " Dat he was glad to hand her over to her pa," and she 
could only cling to him long and lovingly in another good- 
night without spoken word. 

After the late breakfast next morning, which Abram turned 
into a function, he laid before his young mistress a great bunch 
of roses, crimson, dewy, and fragrant. " Dese," said he, clearing 
his throat importantly, " am sent, wid he bes' complimuns, from 
Mass' Lewis Randall. Me and dat nyoung gemman had de 
honah ob a few minutes' talk on de av'noo while you-all 
was soun* asleep. An' I mus' say " quite regardless of his 
master's face of wrathful wonder " dat he got mighty fine man- 
ners mos' as good as our own class- Ef he ain't, as yet, quite 
de savvy fare ob de ancient regiment, dat ain't no reason he 
ain't gwine git it after some collusion wid we-alls. 'Tis a 
Christian juty for to gib him de chance." 

"Was it cigars or just chewing-tobacco?" the major in- 
quired with ominous dryness. But when Abram had taken his 
hurt dignity away and Alice her blushes and her roses, the 
major fell into a fit of musing in which some vision of the 
future must have intruded itself, for at the last he confided, 
resentfully, to his pipe : " So they have enlisted the * ancient 
regiment ' in their cause ! Who knows to what I will be driven ? 
for I know that old fellow's wearing persistency when he takes 
anything into his head ; and, confound him, he 's sometimes 
right ! " 




1899-] CHRIST is THE NEED OF THE NATIONS. 255 



CHRIST IS THE NEED OF THE NATIONS. 

BY REV. MICHAEL P. SMITH. 

HE connection between history and religion is 
very close. It resembles the union of the soul 
and the body. For as history represents the 
whole social framework, so does religion manifest 
a special, divine presence which has always per- 
meated society. 

There are and always have been universal needs on the part 
of mankind with regard to things of the highest moment ; 
there is a darkness in the human mind, an unfilled void in the 
human heart, a weakness of moral purpose. 

Man strives to know the Author of this world and of his be- 
ing. He fain would understand the origin and issue of life, the 
reasons for the ills that afflict him ; what, if anything, gives life 
value and dignity, what presents a worthy object of happiness ; 
what will stay and comfort him when called on, as he inevita- 
bly will be, to renounce this life ; what secrets the future has 
in store. 

As an everlasting love was God's motive in creating man, 
so is that love made constant and practical by his providence 
in teaching man, in forming, raising, maturing him for his des- 
tiny by all the happenings of life. The instrument, means, and 
guidance of all this preparation we call religion : religion in 
its true and fullest sense a manifestation on God's part of his 
will and his relations, and, on man's side, knowledge, feeling, 
trust, a bond, a covenant fully warranted, freely accepted, gen- 
erously welcomed, by which man is brought face to face with 
his object, in the exceeding great cry of unquenchable passion, 
of irrepressible aspiration and possession by which his soul says, 
" Thou art my God." 

GOD DEALS WITH NATIONS AS HE DOES WITH INDIVIDUALS. 

The same methods which God uses towards individuals he 
uses towards nations, for " He made all things that they might 
be and he made the nations of the earth for health "; he is 
their sanction and support. Like individuals, nations have their 
varied gifts and endowments, their temperaments, habits, ideas, 
their virtues and vices, a determined moral character ; like them, 



256 CHRIST is THE NEED OF THE NATIONS. [May, 

they have their youth and their decay, they move forward, they 
abide for a time, they flourish and pass only, as we count the 
life of the individual by years, we mark the span of nations by 
centuries. 

Read in its broadest outlines, history shows us that however 
manifold, complex, minute, or hidden the government of God 
may seem to be, yet nations form the most part of it. They 
are the helpers, willing or unwilling, of his designs ; the minis- 
ters of his will, the participants of his favor, the instruments, 
or the victims, by transgression, of his vengeance. 

Standing on the vantage-ground of the present, with the ac- 
cumulated knowledge of the ages, if we summon up the nations 
of antiquity, as they pass in review we see that four great em- 
pires, the Babylonian, the Assyrian, the Graece-Macedonian, and 
the Roman, are the central figures which deserve most particular 
notice. 

The unsurpassed genius, the mighty resolves and heroic ex- 
ecution that welded them, the pomp and cruelty, the ambition 
and purposes, influenced by some conception of truth, the oscil- 
lations forwards and backwards, the thousand tendencies and 
counter-currents, the onward course to ever-deepening abysses 
of confusion, error, and revolt, to newer and more degrading 
beliefs and practices, we see them through it all struggling, 
rising, profiting by a divine education, by an overruling Provi- 
dence, which had a two-fold object, to impress upon man the 
keenest sense of his own misery and helplessness, and also to 
fit him for divine truth and life : this is the vision, this the 
interpretation, this the commentary on the past. Surely the 
very slowness of our Lord's coming, that delayed manifestation 
not given " until the fulness of time," is the proof of his re- 
ligion. It came to a dying world given over to despair, to 
peoples enveloped in darkness and bound in inextricable error, 
to man passive from the failure of his efforts, submissive with 
the exhaustion of his struggles, yet to man enlightened by the 
acknowledgment of his weakness and purified by the intensity 
of his desires for help from on high. 

Dealing with these needs as shown in their utmost urgency, 
in their typical and recognizable form, I need only allude to 
the general preparation of the Gentile nations, in which by the 
voice of conscience, by the rights of nature, by oral and writ- 
ten traditions, by the uncovenanted ways of his mercy and 
power God left not himself without witness. Nor need I speak 
of the special preparation of the Hebrew people, since they 



1899-] CHRIST is THE NEED OF THE NATIONS. 257 

stand apart, having an origin and character, a role, evident 
from the pages of profane as well as sacred history, a mission 
the purpose and failure of which is summed up by St. John, 
viz., " That He came to His own, and His own received Him 
not." 

Cyrus, Darius, Alexander the Great led up to Rome ; the 
Caesars in their turn labored to build up Roman domination 
for ever, only, as we know, to make final and fitting prepara- 
tion for that great spiritual, world-embracing empire of which 
Jesus Christ is the monarch. 

THE FINGER OF GOD IN ANCIENT HISTORY. 

The existing obstacles which have opposed the diffusion of 
Christ's kingdom have been- the multiplicity of warring states, 
the diversity of language, and natural barriers, mountains and 
impassable forests. 

Alexander the Great, in the manifestation of his warlike 
genius, had carried civilization eastward to the confines of the 
known world and had also placed the standard of intellectual 
endeavor and excellence; while his countrymen or subjects, 
making every fair isle and safe harbor in the ^Egean and 
Mediterranean seas their own, had transported their industry 
and genius, Hellenic culture and ideals, westward to the pillars 
of Hercules. Greece, fair but unfortunate, though resigning her 
civil independence to Rome, still preserved the palm of mental 
superiority and her conqueror became her disciple. Meantime, 
a new and the greatest centre of human achievement was set 
up in imperial Rome, the mistress of the world, the home of 
majesty, valor, order, of all-embracing law. Thus Greek re- 
mained the language of arts and letters ; Latin, the instrument 
of domination, and so the barrier of language was removed. 

Again echoed the world in due subjection : to expedite her 
incessant military movements Rome had constructed highways 
radiating out from herself, crossing and recrossing in strategic 
network ; her legionaries were but the pioneers of the apostles, 
and the roads which had known only the blare of trumpets, 
the onward path of the conquering eagles, shortly and swiftly 
carried the glad tidings of redemption, the message of peace and 
pardon to the whole earth " Exivit sonus eorum in omnem ter- 
rani et verba eorum in fines orbis terrae." 

As Rome epitomized the world, if we would kj 
versal need of Christ, must we consider its 
greatness lay in its power of assimilation an< 
VOL. LXIX. 17 




258 CHRIST is THE NEED OF THE NATIONS. [May, 

She took the nations as she found them : not destroying local 
existence and institutions, not suppressing, save when compelled, 
native rulers rather she moulded them by contact with her 
own civilization, protected them with her promise and power, 
inspired them with desire to merit the title than which none 
was greater, " Civis Romanus sum " ; for her unique idea was the 
common weal the city with its municipal privileges under im- 
perial genius. And God, who uses the visible in preparation for 
the invisible, allowed her to do her work, to share her majesty, 
and then he turned the current of men's thoughts to a kingdom 
of which Rome should be the centre, of which she had the out- 
ward form, but not the substance nor the spirit. 

Thus was the world made ready historically, geographically, 
and politically for His coming. 

THE MORAL LIFE OF THE WORLD NEEDED A SAVIOUR. 

And now what was the state of life? How far did the out- 
ward correspond to the inward condition ? Amid so much great- 
ness, splendor and power, did content, justice, morality flourish ? 
The very reverse is the truth. The hour of Rome's greatest 
strength was that of her most abject need : that energy, rest- 
less or resistless activity were but the workings, the result of a 
fever that was consuming her ; exalted above any previous 
estate of human glory, Rome in truth was the ante-chamber of 
hell, a land of darkness, where no order save that of force and 
selfishness reigned. The end, the greatness of a nation is at- 
tained if, where material plenty, order, authority flourish, there 
too are found the helps, the guarantees for man's moral life, 
the absence of obstacles, the presence of freedom and aid to 
seek his true destiny. But in Rome all these were wanting. 
The fundamental truths upon which life rests, by which its dig- 
nity and happiness arc promoted, these were gone, overlaid with 
falsehood, submerged in a bottomless mass of corruption, ignor- 
ance, cruelty. 

Knowledge of God, his creative act, his providence, had died 
out, and men in consequence suffered irreparable loss, were 
debased to the level of brutes ; the belief in the immortality of 
the soul, its freedom, man's rights and duties, were unknown or 
ignored. Authority, whose principle is God, rested upon the 
irresponsible will of an individual, or lent itself wholly to the 
forceful demands of the state, to the exclusion of all other 
rights, divine or human. Whether we judge from the testimony 
of its own historians and satirists, or from the arraignment of 



1899-] CHRIST is THE NEED OF THE NATIONS. 259 

St. Paul, life had no redeeming features ; men were without 
God in this world, without hope and given over to all unseem- 
ly desires in the blindness of their minds. Life in Rome was 
darkened and crushed by the despotism of its mad and mon- 
strous rulers, hardened by the cruelty of the amphitheatre, de- 
filed by the excess of the stage, pauperized by imperial largess 
to idle multitudes, and terrorized by insolent soldiers and a 
tumultuous, exacting, thoughtless populace. The rich lived in 
terror which they alleviated with unbridled depravity ; the poor, 
amid surroundings in which every abomination showed forth in 
its native vileness, unattractive, hideous, unrelieved by conceal- 
ment, or shame, or taste. The slave population far outnum- 
bered the rest, and their condition was without consideration, 
honor or humanity ; chattels not men, brutalized and minister- 
ing to brutality, subject as regards life and limb to each 
passing cruel whim of their masters. 

THE MESSIAS COMETH. 

Human life could touch no lower depths. Sickened, sur- 
feited with lust, hate, and fear, in their darkest hour Jesus 
Christ, the Day-Star from on high, at last shone upon them, and 
in his light they at last began to see light and to live. His 
kingdom came not by observation here a few of the better 
sort, a once stern soldier, a patrician lady, a handful of slaves 
but speedily, and the attractions of his sweetness, the help of 
his grace, the blessedness of his teaching consoled, uplifted, 
strengthened souls, until in a little more than a hundred years 
a Tertullian could say : " We are but of yesterday, and we fill 
your streets, your forums, your courts and palaces." And what 
a change ! Light instead of darkness, worship of the Father in 
spirit and truth instead of idolatry, purity for foulness, hope in 
place of despair. As a polity Rome could not be saved ; it had 
done its worst, its hour had come, it was unwieldy and over- 
burdened. Though later Constantine gave the church freedom 
and protection, the empire broke under the burdens of its past 
crimes. 

True, all that was best survived; literature, laws, the tradi- 
tions, the ability for government, all these were preserved by 
the church. In Rome sufficient prominence was left with him 
who was its chief personage and later its ruler, the successor of 
St. Peter; sufficient power to overawe and correct the new 
world which rose on the ruins of the old ; he was able to pro- 
tect and save them not by the arm of the flesh, but by the 



260 CHRIST is THE NEED OF THE NATIONS. [May, 

compelling power of truth and goodness which attached to his 
office as spiritual and visible head of Christ's Church. In the 
times immediately following, men admitted and revered the 
beauty and holiness of the church, they experienced her bene- 
ficent help and gave her her lawful place ; for she was Alma 
Mater, a sweet nursing mother. Christian principles were the 
characteristics of all, individuals and nations ; and Christendom, 
the domain of Christ, was formed, and a many-tinted garden 
sent up to heaven the fragrance of its piety. For then the pope 
ruled with power the whole flock, and even in things temporal, 
by common consent and public law, was the arbiter ; then kings 
defended the church, knights fought for her, saints and scholars 
made her glorious. 

THE REVOLT AGAINST AUTHORITY. 

But lo! a change came. After centuries of unity and con- 
cord a frightful upheaval and revolt began, the direful effects 
of which last until our own day. The church's doctrines were 
attacked, her authority defied, her mysteries mocked, her pos- 
sessions sequestered. Men no longer would have the unity, the 
harmony which Christ willed ; they no longer admitted the dis- 
tinction, the supremacy, the independence of the spiritual over 
the temporal to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is 
God's and so Caesar came back to lord it in both domains, in 
church and state, over their subjects. Kings usurped spiritual 
headship ; ancient and glorious churches, illustrious portions of 
the Church Catholic, became national, mere departments of 
state ; Catholic sovereigns also intruded themselves into the 
holy precincts and confined the church in a gilded slavery. 
And here we have, whether kings be sovereign or the people, 
the cardinal point of most of the present ills of nations, viz., 
the constant, persistent rupture between church and state, the 
two whom God joined together for the betterment of mankind. 

THE SPECTACLE OF THE MODERN WORLD. 
As to-day we look upon the world a spectacle meets us 
which has scarce had a parallel since the days of ancient 
Rome. Nations are expanding, boundaries shifting, and whole 
peoples are being buried with unlooked-for and unsought politi- 
cal influences and combinations. Asia and Africa, continents 
which in some sort had dropped away from the map of the 
world, had kept aloof from friendship and interests, have been 
opened up, rediscovered as it were, and appropriated. Civil- 
ization has reversed its course, and now the West is bringing 






1899-] CHRIST is THE NEED OF THE NATIONS. 261 

light to the East ; the isolation of ages is a thing of the past, 
barriers are broken down, the rapid facilities of travel, interest, 
not to say commercial advantages, make all men fellows ; the 
lately born passion for acquisition, the requirements of modern 
industry, seem to demand the whole earth for its possession, 
its market, its field of exercise. As for these heathen and un- 
civilized peoples, since the Gospel has hardly reached them and 
multitudes are sitting in the valley of the shadow of death, 
their need of Christ is imperative. What solemn responsibili- 
ties, then, what sacred duties to provide for this enlightenment, 
devolves upon the Christian nations who have made these in- 
roads and conquests ! I shall not put this duty too high, 
nor expect an ideal performance ; I shall willingly admit in 
the scope of their acts merely human considerations, commer- 
cial advantages, extension of trade, new markets ; but do they 
reflect, that by conquest and dominion all Christians become 
their brother's keepers, if he through ignorance, through no 
fault, is lost to God ? Do they suppose that these pagan, bru- 
talized lives are to be ennobled only by commerce? to be made 
better, holier by adopting the drudgery and care of gain which 
is the characteristic of Western existence ? Can we take away 
their ethical moral standards and substitute nothing? Must the 
Western nations find out at this day that man does not live 
for and by bread alone ? Can it be truthfully, hopefully as- 
serted that this solemn conviction of their spiritual needs and 
our duty enters into the policy we, together with other nations, 
are committing ourselves to? As to European nations, it will 
be hard to see aught else but greed, jealousy, rivalry for terri- 
tory. They make no pretence even of humanitarian motives; 
they uphold even the unspeakable Turk, though his victims be 
numbered by untold thousands of Christian lives and why ? 
Because they are not agreed upon the division of his spoils. 

CATHOLIC AND NON-CATHOLIC NATIONS. 

When we turn to consider more attentively the nations of Eu- 
rope, they divide themselves into those which have nominally or 
really preserved allegiance to the Catholic Church and those 
which in the sixteenth century rebelled against her authority 
and teaching, and further, those which in earlier times were 
lost to church unity by schisms. In the condition of Catholic 
nations there is much to give their well-wishers and co-religion- 
ists apprehension and grief. If it be true that decadence has 
set in, to what shall we attribute it? Is it simply a period of 



262 CHRIST is THE NEED OF THE NATIONS. [May, 

lassitude, the ebb of the tide? Is it that these institutions tto 
not suit the temperament of the people ; that parliamentary, 
republican, constitutional, free rule has failed ; that real parties 
do not exist, only factions, and hence that among them gov- 
ernment is inefficient, corrupt, legislation partisan, taxation un- 
bearable ? These may in part be causes, but the common 
Father of Christendom finds and proclaims with paternal re- 
proof and increasing warnings that the main cause is disloyalty 
to Christ and to His Church. The Pope insists that neglect of 
God and of their solemn obligations, laxity of morals, trans- 
gression of law, accommodation to false and un-Christian liberal- 
ism are the causes of decay, disorder, the sundering of all the 
safeguards of the body politic. They need Christ, his truth, 
his love and grace ^ for with a people gathered round his 
altars and devoted to the spirit of religion thrones are 
secure, laws just, national prosperity secured, national honor 
safeguarded. " Why have the nations raged and the peoples 
devised vain things : the kings of the earth stood up, and the 
princes met together against the Lord and his Christ?" The 
reason is that they have broken the bonds which bound them 
in unity with the Apostolic See ; they have resolved to cast 
away the yoke of allegiance to Christ and his church ; they 
have sought a false independence, and to obtain it they have 
robbed the Christian world of its patrimony, have put restraint 
upon the Vicar of Christ, have allowed him to be made a 
prisoner, insulted and outraged him ; and what have they 
profited ? Reverence is denied them, they live in fear and 
trembling, their lives menaced, their states a prey to socialism 
and anarchism, and to them the command is given : " And 
now, O ye kings, understand and receive instruction, ye that 
judge the earth. Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice unto 
him with trembling. Embrace discipline, lest you perish from 
the right way." 

WHERE WEALTH INCREASES AND MEN DECAY. 

Nor, if we attentively look at the condition of non-Catholic 
states, shall we find much to envy or approve. For consider 
not the favored few, not the classes but the masses : the dire- 
ful poverty, the unremitting, ill-paid toil, the growing narrow 
lives unsweetened by religious motives, the cold abandonment, 
the indifference, the rejection of religion. Have we not read 
in the Scriptures of those who have sold themselves to Mam- 
mon and received the price ? 



1899-] CHRIST is THE NEED OF THE NATIONS. 263 

Considering those things, namely, that such prosperity may 
have too great a price, where wealth increases and man decays, 
where the young and strong are idly consuming the products 
of the earth, where human ingenuity and the results of science 
are taxed to devise death-dealing machines, where countries are 
made camps, and the supernatural has died out of life and of 
government, and we shall say their need, too, is Christ. For 
unless history has lied, unless God has abdicated and changed 
his dealings, unless Christ has come short of his promised in- 
heritance, the only remedy is return to him, and a full return 
to him and to his church. The main cause of these ills is dis- 
loyalty to Christ and his church that unholy ambition, greed 
of worldly success, laxity of morals, insubordination of soul, 
transgression of the laws of God. They need Christ, his love, 
and his truth. 

Sometimes the assertion is made that states which are 
Catholic are stationary and retrogressive or decadent, whereas 
the non-Catholic countries are found to be strong, expanding, 
imperial. This assertion, based as it is on defective, unscien- 
tific comparison, need not trouble us for answer it is not true 
in the terms of those who urge it ; but nowhere did Christ 
promise worldly prosperity as the reward of obedience to his 
Gospel ; rather his spirit and his words point to other rewards. 
We are bidden " to seek first the kingdom of God and his 
justice." There is, however, nothing in the institutions, laws, 
and teachings of the Catholic Church to hinder the truest and 
highest civilization ; rather these favor it. 

As for these United States, if in theory and in reality our 
relationship to the order which God has decreed be not ideal 
or most perfect, at least in God's providence it seems to be 
the best possible under the circumstances. We are not, as a 
nation, in revolt against God, nor in concealed hostility to his 
church. Our form of government does not provide for such 
alliance, but it leaves us free to follow conscience, to serve 
God, to obey the church, and nowhere has the church shown 
such vitality, nowhere has the Apostolic See more freedom, nor 
more devoted children. The gates of Empire, by an unex- 
pected combination of circumstances, swing open to us ; a war 
undertaken to uplift humanity has brought unexpected respon- 
sibilities. Let us first make sure they have been imposed, and 
that our duty as well as our ability combine to rightly dis- 
charge them. 




THE first of the many excellent illustrations by 
which this work * is adorned is a photograph from 
Maccari's famous fresco representing Cicero at the 
moment Catiline had, " with unbridled audacity," 
taken his seat in the Senate. This, the frontispiece, 
gives an idea of what preferences in subject and treatment un- 
derlie Mr. Willard's views ; at the same time there is a fine 
spirit of candor throughout which, to the ordinary reader, would 
mark him down as impassive or coldly judicial. He is fair but 
not judicial, and in this answers Guizot's requirement of what 
the historian ought to be ; a requirement which even in his 
philosophy Guizot himself practised to the very letter so far as 
not being judicial.f 

Upon the whole we are inclined to think he has proved, 
against his will, that there is a decadence in the art of Italy. 
Rome is no longer the capital of the art world. Venice, Flor- 
ence, Milan, and Genoa are no longer great centres of art. 
They used to be we may say this with a qualification with re- 
spect to Genoa, which was looked upon as a sort of Bceotia 
although their promising students invariably went for a time 
to Rome to obtain that finish which its technique and unpar- 
alleled collections afforded. 

We see that Mr. Willard has an admiration for " classicism," 
though he endeavors to show it has a tendency to sterility ; he 
praises the performances of Preraphaelitism and Romanticism, 
but he does this because they are a revolt against Classicism ; 
the bias of his mind is in favor of realism, or, as we think he 
prefers to call it, Naturalism. Yet his realism is idealism when 
we come to examine it ; and it, in truth, makes out the case 
for the Romanticists as well as if he held a brief for them. 
We suggest that the history of art should be looked at as 

* History of Modern Italian Art. By Ashton Rollins Willard. London and New York : 
Longmans, Green & Co. 

f Guizot condemns Dr. Lingard for what he calls indifference. This, in our opinion, 
would be better stated by saying Dr. Lingard had a true perception of the equity of history. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 265 

a whole. The changes of the conceptions and treatment are 
manifestations of latent impulses and not unconnected, cataclys- 
mic phenomena. The abnormal is a form of evolution as dis- 
tinctly as the graduated, the decadent as the progressive. Shak- 
spere did not step from heaven, nor were the titanic creations 
of Michelangelo flung upon the world as the miracles of an un- 
known power. 

Among the illustrations we have a photograph of Clement 
XIV. from the marble of Canova. This great work is viewed 
as the finest expression of the classic style, and yet we think 
this can only be held on some such principle as that which re- 
gards sculpture as the form in which that taste revealed itself. 
If anything could be idealized realism, it is the figure of the 
pontiff in the robes of his office, his hand blessing and protect- 
ing the world. Pure classicism loves the toga, the laurel crown, 
the drapery which shows the grace or strength of the limb. 
It is this sculpturesque preference which constitutes what is un- 
derstood as classicism in painting. We must say, however, that 
the chapter on Canova and his contemporaries is very instruc- 
tive and suggests thoughts on the effect of external influences 
in determining taste. Canova was peculiarly susceptible to im- 
p'ressions of the delicate, graceful, and sensitive, and he found 
them in classic art. 

We have in the relation between Tenerani's works and 
Bartolini's an instance of evolution which did not proceed 
along the normal lines of development. Both of them belonged 
to the period of transition from Classicism to Naturalism. Tene- 
rani had been a pupil in a school where the other had been a 
teacher, but the pupil stood against the teacher's ideas. He 
introduced into his conceptions a Danish element from the in- 
fluence of Thorvaldsen, but despite all this, his work suggests 
that of Bartolini. This is one method by which a new variety 
comes upon the stage. Personal dislike caused resistance to 
the master's ideas, this produced the effect of taste in sending 
the pupil to a different source of inspiration, and the result, to 
a large extent, was the soul of Thorvaldsen in the chisel of 
Bartolini. 

In Vincenzo Vela Naturalism attained its highest develop- 
ment. At the moment Romanticism was losing its hold on Euro- 
pean literature it entered into art. It would be interesting to 
treat the reciprocal influences of literature and art. We pass 
with the remark that at least up to the French Revolution Rome 
was not only the art capital of the world, she was the arbiter 



266 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May, 

on all questions of literary conception and method. We have 
among the illustrations in the book the replica, now in Wash- 
ington, of Vela's " Last Days of Napoleon." There can be only 
one opinion about this work, but its pre-eminent success is due, 
in our opinion, to a departure from what is understood as the 
principles of Realism. These require the man to be face and 
form as in the model, the animated clay if you like, and apart 
from any lesson to mankind in other words, a human brute 
ugly or shapely, but a thing without an interest in the strug- 
gles of the past or of the future, an atom of the countless 
millions that were born and that died amid the immensities. 
In the marble, the emperor is in his last hours, seated in a 
chair with relaxed limbs but an intellect ablaze with the pas- 
sions of hate and pride directed by profound policy and inex- 
orable will. The map spread upon his lap, with the hand 
clinched on Russia and Prussia, is hardly needed to enlighten 
us as to what is passing within that brow of Jove or seen by 
the eyes which awe as might a fate's. It is very curious that, 
while recognizing that the effect of " commonplaceness " is 
produced, despite their admirable execution, by almost all the 
other works of this sculptor, Mr. Willard does not perceive 
that this is due to the principle which treats man as a soulless 
being. His Dante is only saved from vulgarity by his mediaeval 
costume, but surely we ought to have that turbulent, unresting, 
feverish, unhappy but glorious spirit living in the marble. 
Popes and emperors, Neri and Bianchi, falsehood, fidelity, 
statecraft, and the low-lying rays of the Renaissance dawn should 
come to us at the sight. Instead we have a gentleman of the 
fourteenth century, like that kind of banality in exhibitions so 
often catalogued by the legend " Portrait of a Gentleman." 
We ask our readers whether at the sight of such pictures they 
have not had murderous and destructive impulses ? 

When he comes to the painters, Mr. Willard begins with 
Vincenzo Camuccini, the leader of the classic movement, of 
whose " Death of Caesar " he gives an illustration from an en- 
graving. Against this school Preraphaelitism was a revolt and 
so was Romanticism which may be found, in principle, a form 
of the latter. Where these forms appeal to identical principles 
of taste is in their abstraction from the individual. Classicism 
was called an appeal from the mediaeval individualism of the 
Renaissance ; it should be looked upon as mistaken criticism 
which confounded individualism with the individual, but which 
possessed an advantage in suggesting to the mind new forms of 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 267 

thought and supplying to a public tired of one kind of produc- 
tion conceptions which affected it like an introduction to a 
hew world. All the phases of intellectual activity from age. to 
age, which are generally described as changes of taste, are to 
our mind the seasonable discovery made by acute intellects that 
a particular vein has been exhausted. The period of transition 
from one standard of taste to another is the time of difficulty, 
and there is a temptation to men who mistake recklessness for 
boldness to jump an abyss. It is in the highest degree proba- 
ble that words are taken for ideas ; that is to say, that criticism 
couched in words is frequently supposed to be judgment formed 
from a survey of the whole field of contemporary and past art. 
The old Romanticism gave prominence to one figure, a domi- 
nant intelligence swaying all by the superiority of his gifts, 
but that is not individualism. The underlying thought of that 
form of conception was not the man himself, but the incarna- 
tion of a principle. It might be called realistic too, for whether 
the central figure in which the principle had earthly life was a 
good man or a bad one, it was what we would believe he looked 
like. This will in brief show the reader that criticism is often 
a jargon, and that we are led along by words which express 
the confusion rather than the distinctness of the critic's ideas. 

Like the social and political movement in England known 
as Young England, the Romantic movement in art seems to 
have been, as Mr. Willard says, first of all an emotional one. 
Its characteristics were the selection of subjects of passionate 
human interest instead of the cold themes of the classic 
school. In a valuable note the author points out that this 
movement was literary in its origin. The impulse began 
in a reaction against Classicism, but obtained its force from 
the conceptions of the school inaugurated in Germany by 
Goethe's Gotz von Berlichingen, published in 17/3, and further 
advanced by Schiller's Die Rauber, published towards the close 
of the decade. Scott's translation of the first work started a 
tendency in Britain which was maintained by himself, Byron, 
and their contemporaries. The poems of Byron became very 
popular in Italy and supplied themes to the painters. In Ger- 
many the illustrations prepared for Goethe's Faust were con- 
ceived in the same spirit. The cold severity of the classic 
school so marble-like and dignified could have no place in a 
world into which entered the intense vitality, whether in good 
or evil, of this startling literature. 

A little remains to be said of the Realistic school. It is our 



268 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May, 

opinion, from the instances presented by Mr. Willard, that any 
success whjch attends this phase of art is due to idealization. 
We have already hinted as much ; a better illustration than 
that of the sitting statue representing the last days of Napo- 
leon is Podesti's picture, called the Martyrdom of St. Thomas.* 
A difficult subject was saved from the suggestion of the ridicu- 
lous by idealized treatment of the gridiron. This, we think, is 
a fair instance of the true province of art rising superior to 
the dicta of schools. 

What a chilling influence is the sceptical spirit of the age 
in which we live! We are not sure that deference to it im- 
proved the first conception of Morelli's Christ after the Resur- 
rection. In its first state this picture showed the figure of 
Satan sinking into the earth, and from the accessories by which 
the thought was to be interpreted, one would fancy this a 
valuable detail. He, however, rejected it on reflection, because 
nineteenth century minds would only sneer at an embodiment 
of the principle of evil. So we see there is a sterility pro- 
duced by unbelief, as well as by the use of traditional ideas 
and methods. We cannot help observing, as we have often 
done before, that the tyranny exercised by scepticism is a 
more cruel restraint on the exertions of genius than the con- 
trol of legitimate authority. A classic myth, a theme from 
nature, may be treated without reserve ; scenes and ideas from 
Holy Writ are to be estimated by the hypotheses of the Higher 
Criticism. 

Upon the whole, we are pleased with this work. The anec- 
dotes come in seasonably to brighten minuteness of detail. 
With regard to these we are inclined to think the author is 
too much given to the testing of their authenticity. We 
thought so, for example, when he rejects the story of the 
model for Vela's marble, La Desolazione. Every story of the 
kind assumes an artist is made indifferent to another's mental 
suffering when he has in view his object ; just as a vivisection- 
ist is in the interest of science. Indeed, psychical vivisection 
has been a study dear to Italians as well as to Easterns quite 
as much as physical torture was the amusement of the hardy 
North and the savages of America and Africa. 

We close by the remark that, in careful review, Mr. Willard 
has hardly named six painters of very considerable ability, 
two or three, at most, of exceptional ability in the present 
generation. Of the last, Niccolo Barabino, born and trained in 

* Strictly he was a painter of the transition period. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 269 

Genoa, is one, and we claim him as a representative of our 
views of art, an idealist, if anything, and such an one as alone 
of his time would command the respect of Raphael and Cor- 
re ggi if for an hour they could look upon the works of their 
successors. We have no space to speak of the chapters on 
Architecture ; but we can say they will be found interesting by 
students, and possibly by general readers, as a testimony to 
the boldness and power which still seem to survive in one 
branch of art among Italians. 

When the author of the present volume * produced his Boy- 
hood, it met with a few criticisms which, as he himself re- 
marks, are likely to be repeated in this instance. Against the 
first, that he pronounces boarding-schools an unalterable neces- 
sity, he has quite successfully defended himself. As to the 
second, his treatment of questions of purity, we think he has 
a claim on the considerate judgment of all broad-minded, sen- 
sible, experienced persons. 

The whole book is replete with thoughtful, practicable sug- 
gestions toward a more profitable education of our young men. 
The wide common sense and large experience of the writer 
come plainly into view in every page ; now and again a side 
remark may evidence an opinion on religion or ethics with 
which we cannot agree, but taken as a whole we heartily com- 
mend the spirit and pronouncements of the author. 

By far the most significant is the chapter on Purity. It will 
take generations to train society generally to that open and 
wholesome treatment of a disagreeable question, but we cannot 
but commend every move towards this consummation. There 
is not an unworthy word or idea in the author's mind, and what 
else should we criticise harshly ? Hardly a boy that lives but 
would be the better for reading that chapter or being drilled 
on the lines it suggests. What the writer, unfortunately, can- 
not dilate upon is the all-powerful weapon that the Catholic 
school can, through the confessional, bring to bear on this in- 
sidious enemy of social welfare and lovely morality ; only his 
necessary lack of knowledge on this particular point could 
justify his silence, for in the world at large among the medical 
profession, for example unstinted praise is bestowed upon the 
church's successful efforts. 

For those who cannot rid themselves of the notion that 

* Through Boyhood to Manhood: a Plea for Ideals. By Ennis Richmond. New York : 
Longmans, Green & Co. 



270 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May, 

+ 

openness is nastiness, and that to be ignorant is to be modest, 
we commend the reading of Coventry Patmore's essays on 
Ancient and Modern Ideas of Purity, which, if somewhat strik- 
ing and novel, will throw some light on the question of the 
characteristically Catholic notions about this subject. A good, 
manly, instructive volume is the present, and we bid it prosper. 

A great deal of practical, common-sense talk such as Miss 
Conway's experience renders weighty and strong insistence on 
preservation of lofty ideals, such as her title in the literary 
world makes us expect these are the predominating charac- 
teristics of her last publication.* Many an ambitious young 
woman can learn some useful and important lessons, without 
the cost of bitter experience, if she will take to heart such 
chapters as " Making the Best of It " ; many a down-hearted 
plodder will see bright gleams of encouragement in such as 
" Statutes of Limitation.'* 

Quite in the spirit of the other books in the series, this 
volume deserves the warm praise already accorded them. Its 
bright, readable style, and clear, unostentatious tone will catch 
many a young reader's eye, and gently win her to conviction 
that she may profitably follow the writer's advice. 

In contrast with unmeaning, narrowly-conceived books 
on devotion to the Blessed Virgin come works like the pres- 
ent, an English rendition of the sermons of the great French 
scholar and preacher.f The learning, the logic, and the piety 
of the preacher are splendidly preserved, all the better, perhaps, 
because the translator has attempted no literal translation. 
Out of Bossuet's score of sermons selection and condensation 
have produced a set of perhaps half that number, and the 
reader will be hardly the loser by it, except in so far as implied 
in translation, though to be sure a hearer would tolerate nothing 
but the preacher's own language. In strictly theological 
passages literal translation has been made carefully and well. 

The book is not unneeded, for Catholics, as well as non- 
Catholics, may learn therefrom that devotion to Mary is some- 
thing more than sentimental trifling, and that, if deeply studied 
and adequately considered, Mary's relations to Christ and his 
Eternal Father are integral portions of theology. It might not 

* Bettering Ourselves. By Katharine E. Conway. Boston : Pilot Publishing Co. 

f Devotion to the Blessed Virgin. By Jacques Benigne Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux- 
Translated by F. M. Capes ; with an introduction by the Rev. William T. Gordon. New 
York : Longmans, Green & Co. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 271 

be unwise to remark that Bossuet's explanation of the doctrine 
of the Immaculate Conception, so long anticipating the Vatican 
Council, will strongly impress some of our dissenting brethren. 

This new edition of Mr. Potter's Bible Stories* encourages 
the belief that daily the love of Scripture-reading goes on in- 
creasing and spreading, and gathering together new classes and 
types. We cannot have too much literature on the Bible, as 
long as standards are kept high, and there is a reverential 
handling of the sacred text ; for there is a constant develop- 
ment of interest in one or other direction, which calls for a 
steady stream of publications. It is good to see those publica- 
tions placing themselves in evidence on the student's shelves 
and in the preacher's bookcase, and even in the children's tiny 
libraries. And the last is not least significant, for interest in 
Scripture that has come with nursery tales is the likeliest to 
root deep, and live long, and thrive well. 

The book before us is admirably adapted to make the young 
familiar, not only with the stories but with the very language 
of Sacred Writ, for the text is preserved almost verbatim, with 
the mere elimination of such sentences of the original irrele- 
vant to the story presented. Good judgment is displayed in 
the selections made, the illustrations are attractive and appro- 
priate, and the book is, as a whole, a very presentable and 
instructive volume. Perhaps some of our own may follow this 
plan, substituting the Catholic version. We think such a book 
would not be slighted by our Sunday-schools. 

In an article entitled " Washington's Farewell Address and a 
Century of American History," published in the Outlook of 
February 25, the distinguished John Bach McMaster, pro- 
fessor of American history in the University of Pennsylvania, 
writes as follows : 

" How, after a hundred years, has that full and fair ex- 
periment resulted? To the wise men of other lands endurance 
seemed impossible. In their eyes we did not possess one element 
of permanence. We had no established church ; therefore we 
were an immoral and irreligious people. We had no king, no 
royal family ; therefore we knew not what loyalty meant. We 
had no nobility ; therefore we could not have a stable, well- 
balanced government. We had no entailed estates ; therefore 
property would not be safe. Our President was but a leader set 

* Bible Stories in Bible Language. By Edward Tuckerman Potter; with an intro- 
duction by Right Rev. Henry C. Potter, D.D. New York: D. Appleton & Company. 



272 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May, 

up by the mob to do their will ; therefore, not principle, not 
a high and honorable purpose, would guide us in our conduct 
towards foreign powers, but the love of the almighty dollar 
and the passing whims of the hour. But what a commentary 
has time made on this prophecy of failure ! Where else on the 
face of the globe has man set up a government better or more 
stable than is provided by the Constitution of the United 
States? Where else during the nineteenth century has property 
been safer ? Where else has absolute religious toleration been 
combined with the deepest religious feeling and the highest 
morality ? What other form of government, at any time, in any 
land, has ever been more firmly sealed in the affections of the 
governed, has ever inspired greater loyalty, has ever prompted 
to greater personal sacrifice in moments of supreme trial ? " 

The wonderful development of a true national and a true 
religious life in the American people, of which Washington 
spoke in his Farewell Address, emphasizes the wisdom of the 
founders of the American nation, and places a high value up- 
on their constructive work of which they themselves were not 
aware. 

But if the American experiment is to-day a confessed suc- 
cess in the matter of nationalism and religion, it is no less a 
success in the important field of education. 

A review of Provost Harrison's report of the University of 
Pennsylvania for the year 1898, which has come before our 
view, impresses us as few such documents have done with the 
marvellous growth and development of this educational institu- 
tion from the day when it was an academy in Philadelphia, 
shielded and nurtured by Benjamin Franklin and a coterie of 
like-minded public-spirited citizens, to the present time when it 
holds its rank among the four great universities of the land, 
and has given to the country a long line of illustrious scholars 
and citizens, among whom the name of the distinguished pro- 
fessor of American history, Mr. McMaster, from whose recent 
article we have already quoted, is not the least. 

It is this article by the professor of American history, and 
a review of the report of the Provost, which has called our 
attention to the truly national work which is being accomplished 
in the education of the three thousand students in the Univer- 
sity of Pennsylvania, which a hundred and fifty years ago was 
Benjamin Franklin's academy in Philadelphia. 

The Miracles of Antichrist* by Selma Lagerlof, is described 
on the title-page as a novel by a Swedish writer, and the edi- 

* The Miracles of Antichrist. By Selma Lagerlof. Boston : Little, Brown & Co. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 273 

tion before us is an English version by Pauline Bancroft Flach. 
It is like an allegory, but it is not one ; and though it has a 
purpose, it is as unlike the priggish productions which are called 
novels with a purpose as anything can well be. We fear it 
will not be appreciated, and we regret this, as much for the 
sake of the reading public as for that of the writer. The 
whole meaning of the book is suggested by a quotation from a 
Sicilian legend which is a form of the Lord's terrible predic- 
tion of the rise of false Christs in the latter days, combined 
with what St. John saw in the Apocalypse. "When Antichrist 
comes," says the passage quoted, "he shall seem as Christ. 
There shall be great want, and Antichrist shall go from land 
to land and give bread to the poor. And he shall have many 
followers." 

The writer has gifts, but we do not think his power ifes in 
the insistence of principles, and their consequences, under the 
incidents of a work of fiction. There are many things which, 
as Catholics, we object to, but there is a healthy tone through 
the work which makes it an incomparably safer source of re- 
laxation in the idle hour than most of the books our hard- 
working young people get into their hands. It would be, 
however, most decidedly the kind of reading we should recom- 
mend to the wealthy and idle classes of this country, and the 
same classes everywhere else. We shall be much surprised if 
the wonders wrought by Antichrist, the miracles performed by 
the spirit of the world in every age, do not afford some gentle 
excitement to those excellent people who fancy they are wor- 
shipping God, when in reality they are followers of Antichrist. 
Again, the "hardy sons" of toil, "the horny-handed," and so 
on, through the entire litany of misleading epithets the hired 
agitator or the loud-voiced emissary of discontent has on his 
tongue-tip when he addresses the people on their wrongs 
again, we say, the people will get just a hint of the value of 
the prophecies of better days, the miracles of social ameliora- 
tion which Antichrist, the king "of this world," will bring 
to them. 

There is nothing in the shape of a story, but the fortunes 
of certain characters, like the one or two great ones in Gil Bias, 
supply the human interest, upon which the suggestions of the 
author's principles, religious and political, are ba^<l)r*S^e can- 
not refuse recognition of the power which 
of the " Christ-Child," the false one and thj 
that spell of influence on the intellect and 
VOL. LXIX. 1 8 




274 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May, 

which we know no better word than glamour. The purpose 
that runs from end to end is the fanciful working out of the 
idea that a "redeemer" or "reformer" was needed for the 
human race, and will be for ever needed. Now, the great Re- 
former came only once ; all the others are Antichrists, or, as we 
should prefer to put it, pseudo-Christs. But these pseudo-Christs 
are miracle-workers, thaumaturgists of social amelioration, pro- 
phets of reconciliation between kings and peoples, masters and 
servants, rich and poor. 

Augustus sees in a vision the birth of the Lord, just as his 
flatterers are about to consecrate on the Capitol an altar to 
him among the gods of Rome. As he gazes on the miserable 
stable, the kneeling shepherds in the open door, the young 
mother on her knees before a little Child, the sibyl's big, bony 
fingers pointed towards that poor Child: "Hail, Caesar!" said 
the sibyl with a scornful laugh. "There is the God who shall 
be worshipped on the heights of the Capitol." 

We are informed that a mighty spirit fell upon the pro- 
phetess, and after some effects upon her appearance produced 
by its operation, such as causing her "dim eyes" to burn, and 
giving her a voice which " could have been heard over the 
whole world " " she spoke words which she seemed to have 
read in the stars " : 

" On the heights of the Capitol the Redeemer of the world 

shall be worshipped, 
Christ or Antichrist, but no frail mortal." 

The next day Augustus forbade the raising of a temple to 
himself " on the Capitol," but built instead of it a sanctuary to 
the new-born God-Child and called it " Heaven's Altar," 
Aracceli. From this legendary origin of the sanctuary we have 
the monastery on the Capitol occupied by " Franciscan monks," 
standing near the basilica " Santa Maria in Aracceli " the 
basilica built because the sibyl had caused Augustus to see 
Christ, and the monastery because they feared the fulfilment of 
the sibyl's prophecy : that Antichrist should come to be wor- 
shipped on the Capitol. The monks watched and prayed 
against the coming of Antichrist, their only comfort was the 
miracle-working image of Christ kept in the basilica. This image 
was the representation of a little babe, but it had a gold crown up- 
on its head, gold shoes on the feet, the whole dress a blaze of 
jewels, all the offerings of persons in distress who had called 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 275 

on the image for help. A rich Englishwoman obtained posses- 
sion of the image by getting an imitation made, which she sub- 
stituted during a moment or two in which she had been 
left alone with it in the shrine. In order to be sure which 
was the real image or " Christ-Child," she scratched with a 
needle on the crown of the false one the legend: " My kingdom 
is only of this world." The history of this false image, its 
going about from place to place, its various fortunes, and its 
rather singular connection with rich Englishwomen are the 
allegorical suggestions interwoven with the fortunes of Gaetano 
and Donna Michaela, Don Ferranti and Donna Elisa, and all the 
rest who pass before us in actual life or in the clouds .of a 
vivid imagination, and are seen through these actual characters 
a method in which the author presents them as you see ghosts 
in a play or the far-off accessories in the background of a 
picture. The allusions of others, the conversations, the fears, 
the resentments of others, and so on all these expedients of the 
fancy the author uses with consummate skill. 

Don Ferranti is one of the actual persons, but he is intro- 
duced in a sentence or two which tells the impression produced 
by him and his circumstances on Donna Michaela. We take it 
as a specimen of the writer's power of making us see people 
through the minds of his living men and women, or, as we 
described it, in the clouds at the background. We are told he 
was found to be no ordinary shop-keeper in a side street. He was 
a man of ambition, who was collecting money in order to buy 
back the family estate on Etna, and the palace in Catania, and 
the castle on the mainland. If he went in short jacket and 
pointed cap, like a peasant, it was in order the sooner to be 
able to appear as a grandee of Spain and a prince of Italy. 

The great bandit, Falco Falcone, is reproduced in this manner, 
brought as it were in the clouds, and with him the social aspect 
and the landscape of Sicily in the later seventies. It is an 
Antichrist time, from which we might infer Selma Lagerlof is 
not a Garibaldian ; and looking back to our earlier page, we think 
that writer finds in revolutionary France pseudo-Christie influences 
all-abounding. The false image is taken from a rich English- 
woman, and her carriage is dragged to a barricade in Paris to 
form part of that kind of defence in street-rioting for which 
the beautiful city so long bore an unenviable reputation. A 
curious thing the power of this poor image of elmwood dressed 
out in brass rings and glass beads ! for wherever it came the 
authority of Christ diminished. One of those defending the 



276 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May 

barricade was not a workingman but a man of education who 
had passed his life in study. This is one of the instances which 
try men the case of a pure-minded enthusiast, whose learning; 
together with the spirit of a gentleman and knight, many noble 
gifts and acquirements, are sacrificed to the powers of darkness 
because he starts upon wrong principles. To make the applica- 
tion the false image is on the barricade, and whenever the 
smoke of battle cleared away this scholar saw it high up, " un- 
moved " amid the tumult. Oh ! that little image was his leader, 
and the words " My kingdom is only of this world " the war- 
cry of himself and the wild crowds who alternated rebellion 
with robbery during the intervals when they had possession of 
the streets. One cannot help a pity for the enthusiast, who knew 
all the want that tortured mankind, whose heart was full of 
.sympathy, and who continually had been seeking means to 
better his lot. The last words of the book are spoken by the 
" old pope " : " No one can save mankind from their sorrows, 
bat much is forgiven him who brings new courage to bear 
them." This, we fear, is like that hysteria which is called Neo- 
Catholicism ; but we suspect everything, and are not sure of 
Selma Lagerlof's pope any more than the one of the French 
emotionalists. 

Mr. MacManus,* who is the author of some books containing 
sketches, narratives, and verses illustrating characteristics of 
the Irish peasantry, is a Celt to the core. One impulse, more 
or less, we know not which, would have made him a Greek of 
the days when kings were the pastors of the people. His fancy 
is a Land of Youth Fir nan oge y we think they call it. We 
mean his fancy is a realm where gray hairs and bent frames 
are signs of the passing onward, and not the tokens of defeat ; 
so that they disappear, as it were, and the strength of man- 
hood comes back in the heart. And youth is a time of glad- 
ness beneath soft skies, and surrounded by the influences of 
nature imparting sweet and generous impulses. The language 
of the peasantry in his hands is a melody ; we have not read 
anything at all so racy, except in the Heart of Midlothian. 
The reader will remember how the passion of the peasant girl's 
pleading for her unhappy sister affected Queen Caroline. But 
when the emotion is not intense, even Scott cannot make the 
Lowland dialect altogether pleasant to the Southron ear. 

* Through the Turf Smoke. By Seumas MacManus. New York : Doubleday & 
McClure Company. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 277 

Carleton is often harsh, Lover unlike, Gerald Griffin has a 
touch of this music, but not altogether free. Now, in most in- 
stances of domestic narrative, Mr. MacManus makes the brogue 
of his Donegal people like a lyric. The humor he possesses is 
genuinely Irish. Americans have in a countryman of their 
own a case of successful acquisition of its half-sly, half-spark- 
ling, and wholly kindly quality in Washington Irving ; and he, 
we think, drew the spirit of his humor largely from his favorite 
Goldsmith. The justness of the comparison will be recognized 
in the passages where the author does the telling himself; for 
the novelty of the brogue to American readers may check the 
cadence at first. The sketch, The Prince of Wales' Own Donegal 
Militia, is a case in point ; it is Knickerbocker s History of New 
York transported to the proper stage, and the fun in Irving's 
heart was that of the humorists whom he unconsciously re- 
flected,* and not that of the good, heavy Dutchmen he 
quizzed. 

Where all over the world could such queer, racy things be 
said as in Ireland ? An omnibus belonging to a keeper of 
post-cars was employed in any business for which it might be 
hired. It was a private carriage when " the major " drove in it 
to church. When it carried a corpse to the grave the school- 
master spoke of it as an " impromptu hearse." On Tuesday it 
carried the sheriff to the court-house, and on Wednesday bore 
poteen to Donegal, and so on, winning from the same learned 
man the descriptive title of " a versatile arrangement." A 
ballad in the piece, entitled " Dinny Monaghan's Last Keg," 
tells of a cow drinking all the poteen in a still. The ballad 
was sung by one of the party at a spree which was held in 
celebration of a successful distillation of the unparliamentary 
liquid named. The expression of opinion at the point of the 
ballad which told who had drunk most of the poteen was, we 
think, correct : " The sorra take her, but she was fond of the 
sperruts," and did not deserve the rebuke it received ; except 
so far as it might be regarded as an interruption of the song. 
The whole of this paper must be read to be properly enjoyed. 
The comments on the conduct of the cow after this performance 
are very amusing; for instance: "The poor baste, she acts so 
nathural like, just for all the worl' like a daicent Christian, 

*We are only dealing with one characteristic of this most charming writer, but Mr. 
MacManus, we trust, has that great ally, time, to help him in making a name to be as widely 
known as Irving's. 



278 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May, 

axin Paddy to thramp on the tail of her coat, an* all that, an' 
then repentin' next mornin'." 

The advice given to one of the distillers by another is good : 
" Dinny aharsge, take yer warn in* from that song, an' raise up 
your cows in the way daicent cows should be raised," etc. ; 
and the retort to the threat that the Black Sergeant had sworn 
that he'd make one of them pay the piper yet. " Well, maybe 
it wouldn't be the first false oath he swore, if we'd believe all 
the people say." 

Jack who was the Ashy pit is introduced in the old story-telling 
way : " Wanst on a time when kings and queens was as plenty 
in Ireland as good people, and good people as plenty as kings 
and queens." Of course the meaning on the surface is that 
these royalties were as plenty as fairies, but the inner meaning 
is to suggest some difference between them and good people. 
The Ashypit starts off to make his fortune, and, being tired, 
is about sitting down, but observes " a flock of big black flies, 
an' he ups with his stick and kilt three and thirty of them 
for he counted them, an' wan o' them was a dale bigger nor 
the others. ' Now that's what I call a good blow,' says Jack ; 
and gettin' an old rusty nail, he wrote upon his stick, ' With 
wan blow o' this stick I kilt, a clargyman an' two and thirty of 
a congregation.' ' With this bit of satire on the well-fed ap- 
pearance of the clergy we shall leave Jack to his adventures of 
the old folk-lore kind and conclude by recommending this little 
volume as the best picture of Irish peasant life we have come 
across for many a day. 

Under the title of My Lady's Slipper and Other Verses * has 
been published a selection of poems of which neither writer 
nor verses themselves are unknown to our readers. But the 
selections are cleverly made, and the gifted authoress is seen 
to best advantage in them. Sweetness and grace may be de- 
clared the general characteristics of the volume, but in the 
finale, " The Within Thee Blind," a deeper note of tragedy and 
doubt is struck, and a masterly one too. Music and rhythm are 
very nearly in their perfection in these little gems, characteristi- 
cally religious or national, sparkling with bright fancies and 
delicate imagery. " My Lady's Slipper " is well, we can but 
say " exquisite," and quaint withal. 

* My Lady's Slipper and Other Verses. By Dora Sigerson. New York : Dodd, Mead 
& Co. 



1899-] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 279 

BUSINESS GUIDE FOR PRIESTS.* 

A good deal has been said, in one place or another, about 
the crying need of a business education for priests, and espe- 
cially for priests engaged actively in this country. Now, as 
a matter of fact, it is of immense utility for a priest, especially 
an American priest, to be a perfect master of nearly every de- 
partment of knowledge ; for there is scarcely one in which he 
may not have occasion to use his science. But it is going 
rather too far to expect the achievement of any such useful 
plan. Rather, it is expedient that we economize, as far as pos- 
sible, the very brief period of time at present given over to 
the acquisition of a summary knowledge of sacred science. 

The proper way to set about mastering the matters foreign 
to his actual professional course of study, is that the priest 
should be supplied with such details as are necessary through 
the agency of some little manual or guide prepared by a learned, 
skilful, and experienced clergyman. This is what Dr. Stang 
has done in his present publication ; any one who understands 
the modicum of the book-keeping art here outlined will, in all 
probability, know sufficient to insure successful management 
if he lives up to it. 

It is a splendidly succinct compendium, but after all, as the 
writer says, it is the religious zeal and tireless patience of the 
pastor, and his unselfish attention to details, rather than any 
technical business training or experience, that will make him the 
successful manager of a parish. 

'* Business Guide for Priests. By Rev. William Stang, D.D. New York: Benziger 
Brothers. 




m 

Catholic 



THE First Educational Conference has just 
finished its sessions in Chicago. To this confer- 
ence were accredited the representatives of the 
colleges of the United States. They had important 
questions to handle, and from the published " Program " of sub- 
jects the topics were approached in a broad-minded way. This 
fact augurs well for the success of the work. That this con- 
vention is able to command a universal interest, and that it 
can write down among its delegates representatives of all the 
teaching bodies, as well as the educators of any prominence in 
Catholic colleges for men in the United States, is a fact of 
considerable note. This could not have been done before the 
establishment of the Washington University. One of the best 
results accomplished by the University is the co-ordination of 
collegiate education. The college now, instead of attempting 
an impossible task of giving a universal education, is circum- 
scribed by limitations. It has a defined field, and with any 
ordinary ability it can cover it well. There has been no more 
hopeful sign in the educational world than the assembling of 
this conference of educationists. 



The Peace Congress has been virtually strangled in its birth. 
It has shut out from its deliberations the only great peace-mak- 
ing factor in Europe, the Holy Father. Without religion men 
are savages. The spirit of religion, like the breath of the warm 
wind from the South, soothes and mollifies. It stands for far 
more than selfish interests. It lives a life all its own, far 
above the strife of battle and the clash of steel. In this spirit 
of religion the hope of arbitration lives, moves, and has its 
being. To shut the door against the historical representative 
of the spirit of religion in the world, is to banish that factor 
which alone can bring the deliberations to a successful issue. 
It would be a fitting thing if the delegates from the United 
States would ask that the Holy Father be represented in these 
deliberations. 



1899-] EDITORIAL NOTES. 281 

Let us Christianize Cuba, Porto Rico, and the Philippines, 
is the cry going out through the Protestant missionary societies. 
When the missionaries get there they will find more solid 
Christianity among the people of these islands than we have in 
many places in the United States. 

By what standards do you measure Christianity? Is it by 
the prevalence of morality ? The missionaries will find the 
people sober. There is not one iota of the drunkenness there 
that there is in our Christianized land. They will find the 
women virtuous, good mothers, faithful wives ; they will find 
all the home influences well established, and the family life in- 
tact. As to the virtue of the women in Cuba and Porto Rico, 
ask the American soldiers. Possibly the Protestant mission- 
aries may teach the people the tricks of the divorce court. 

They will find the people good church-goers. They attend 
church far better than Protestants do here in New York. Do 
you measure your Christianity by the variety of your churches? 
Go to our new possessions in this spirit, you will simply teach 
denominationalism, a religion torn in shreds by contentions 
not the blessed religious unity Christ prayed for. 

The best thing you can do is to stimulate existing agencies. 
If you think the Catholic Church has failed in doing its full 
duty, go and poke up its officials to greater endeavor. 

Your present plans will simply result in making a few infi- 
dels but not Protestants. 



It is not without its humorous side to witness the efforts 
made by our friends to explain away the hard, cold facts which 
Governor Rollins, of New Hampshire, brought to light in his 
Fast Day Proclamation. They say in the country districts re- 
ligion is not declining. The governor is perfectly right, and 
any consideration of the realities will bear him out in his state- 
ments. What Governor Rollins says of rural New Hampshire 
Dr. Rainsford says of urban New York, only he adds, shrewdly 
enough, that unless some means are devised whereby a half an 
hour's instruction in religious matters is provided every day in 
the school, this lamentable decadence will go on. 



282 CATHOLICS IN THE ARMY AND THE NAVY. [May, 



CATHOLIC OFFICERS IN THE ARMY AND THE 

NAVY. 



CAPTAIN JOHN J. LEONARD, U.S.V. 

Captain John J. Leonard, commanding Company G, Second 
Regiment Massachusetts Infantry, was born May 22, 1856, 
in Alden, Erie County, N. Y. His father, Michael Leonard, 
and mother, Ann Mungovan (both dead), were born in County 
Clare, Ireland. 

When about thirteen years old his parents removed to Spring- 
field, Mass. When sixteen years of age, he was employed for 
about three years in a clerical position by the B. & A. R. R. Com- 
pany. He then became a clerk in his father's store, and at his 
father's death continued the business until 1887. His duties as 
tax assessor demanded his entire time. Captain Leonard was 
elected to the assessorship in 1884 to fill a vacancy, he having 
already served for five years as an assistant assessor, being thus 
eminently qualified for his official duties. Two years later he was 
re-elected to a full term. His re-election to the same position in 
1887 and 1890, and again in 1893, at the latter time being made 
chairman of the board, is a speaking tribute to his fidelity and 
ability, and a wise expression of the high esteem in which he 
is held by his fellow-citizens. He was re-elected in 1896 and 
again in 1899 for full terms. The honor thus accorded him is 
all the more appreciated by himself and his friends when it is 
remembered that he is a staunch Democrat in politics, and that 
the city is a Republican stronghold. 

For twenty-two years he has been the secretary of the 
Catholic Total Abstinence Union of the Diocese of Springfield, 
and has been a delegate to fifteen national conventions of the 
C. T. A. U. of A. Captain Leonard was the chairman of the 
general committee that managed the monster field-day of the 
Springfield Union in 1892, which was one of the largest Catho- 
lic temperance demonstrations ever gotten up in America, and 
at which event thirty-three thousand people were present at 
Hampden Park, Springfield, among whom were the governor, 
lieutenant-governor, and other distinguished guests. 

Captain Leonard is one of the governing board of the Mas- 
sachusetts Catholic Order of Foresters, a member of the A. O. H., 
and many other useful and charitable organizations. 

The military record of Captain Leonard reflects credit on 
his practical judgment and wisdom. Joining Company G, 



1899-] CATHOLICS JN 7 HE ARMY AND THE NAVY. 283 




CAPTAIN JOHN J. LEONARD, U.S.V. 

Second Regiment Infantry M. V. M., April u, 1877, as a pri- 
vate, he was appointed sergeant two years later, and in 1880 
was promoted to be first sergeant. June 27, 1882, he was 
elected first lieutenant, holding the rank until March 7, 1887, 
when he was promoted to captaincy, a capacity in which he has 
since served with efficiency. The inspector-general's depart- 
ment of Massachusetts, as the result of the annual inspections 
of the militia of Massachusetts just prior to the war with 
Spain, says of Company G : " Command rated very good. Dis- 
cipline, drill, and general instruction most commendable. Offi- 
cers, non-commissioned officers, and men thoroughly earnest 
and efficient. Books, records, and papers in faultless condition, 
models for imitation throughout the service. Great credit is 
due and should be given officially to this company." 

At the opening of the Spanish-American War the Second 
Massachusetts Infantry was among the first to volunteer their 
services to their country. It was the first volunteer regiment 



284 CATHOLICS IN THE ARMY AND THE NAVY. [May, 

in the United States to reach Florida, the seat of active pre- 
parations for the Cuban campaign. Captain Leonard's com- 
pany led the Second Massachusetts through the campaign up 
to July 7, when the captain was detached from his command 
to serve as commander of a battalion the first battalion, of 
which G company was a part, becoming the third battalion. 
The regiment landed at Baiquiri June 22, taking an active part 
in the battles of El Caney and San Juan Hill, July I and 2 ; 
G company's losses being two men killed and three wounded 
at El Caney July I, and one man killed at San Juan Hill 
July 2. The company did its share of trench-digging, being 
attached to Brigadier-General Ludlow's First Brigade, Second 
Division of the Fifth Army Corps. The brigade occupied the 
right of the corps during the siege of Santiago, and had five 
different positions between the third and fourteenth days of 
July, when Santiago surrendered. 

The disease period was a trying time for the whole Fifth 
Army Corps, the Second Massachusetts having its share. Cap- 
tain Leonard's battalion consisted of one-third of the regiment, 
but his losses from disease were less than seventeen per cent. 
of the loss in the regiment. The theoretical knowledge of war- 
fare acquired by long service in the militia of the common- 
wealth of Massachusetts assisted Captain Leonard and his officers 
very materially in caring for and directing the men under them. 
The regiment reached Montauk August 19, was furloughed 
August 27 for sixty days, and mustered out of service November 3. 

Following is the comment made by the chief mustering 
officer of the State of Massachusetts on the United States 
records of Co. G, Second Massachusetts Volunteers, in a letter 
to Captain Leonard : " Allow me to compliment you on the ap- 
pearance of your company, books and records, which were by 
far the best turned in by the Second Regiment, and are ex- 
cellent in every respect." Captain Leonard re-entered the ser- 
vice of the militia of the Massachusetts commonwealth, on 
which list he will undoubtedly rank as major, but by reason of 
the ill effects of the Cuban fever will soon ask to be retired. 

Rev. John J. McCoy, P. R. of Chicopee, Mass., speaking at 
a recent banquet tendered Captain Leonard and Sergeant 
O'Connoll by the Sacred Heart Total Abstinence Society of 
Springfield, of which Captain Leonard is a charter member, 
said, amongst other things, a close acquaintance with Captain 
Leonard for nineteen years gave him ample opportunity to 
judge of his worth, and he reiterated the statement that the 
captain was worthy of all the honor done him. He recalled an 



1899-] WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 285 

incident that showed the character of the man. At the time 
the regiment was called to undergo no one knew just what, he 
met the captain's pastor, and the latter had shown him a letter 
from the commander of Company G asking for the prayers of 
himself and his men in the struggle that was before them. 
Here was a man, the speaker added, who, filled with zeal and 
anxiety of a noble sort, made it one of his first duties, when 
it became evident that his company was to see actual service, 
to reverently request his pastor to pray for himself and the 
men under him. It was typical of a man whose life was good 
and noble and uplifting. 

WHAT THE THINKERS SAY. 

To the Editor of the Catholic World. 

SIR : In Mr. Sidney Lee's recently published Life of William Shakespeare 
the biographer says emphatically that Shakespeare was a Protestant. 

The only person within a century of Shakespeare's date who ever made a 
statement on the subject, one way or the other, verbally or on paper, was Arch- 
deacon John Davies, the Vicar of Daperton, in Gloucestershire, England, a clergy- 
man of the Establishment. 

In or about the year 1703, Archdeacon Davies made some autograph notes 
upon the Diary of the Rev. William Fulman (also a clergyman of the English 
Church) ; and, among these notes, is the following direct statement: 

" He (Shakespeare) died a Papist." 

Now, as Archdeacon Davies was a Protestant clergyman, this statement is 
what lawyers call " a declaration against interest," and therefore one to which 
great weight is to be reasonably given. Moreover, the use of the word " Papist," 
instead of " of the old Faith " or " Catholic," shows that the statement was 
made reluctantly and with feeling. Even if contradicted, these considerations 
would favor it. But it stands uncontradicted ! 

In cases of a conflict of documentary or of oral evidence, or of tradition, a 
historian has undoubted right to use his own judgment to a certain extent, or, 
at least, to give his opinion as to the burden of probability. But where there is 
but one statement of fact, either way, and that statement is unimpeached, an ex- 
pression of judgment personal to the historian seems, to say the least, uncalled for. 

Of course, Shakespeare was obliged, like every other subject of Elizabeth, to 
outwardly conform to the two" Acts of Uniformity " which obtained during the 
period including Shakespeare's natural life. 

But Archdeacon Davies' statement leads to the conclusion (and I, for one, 
can arrive at no other) that, toward the close of his life, Shakespeare sought oc- 
casion, in some form, to publicly announce his attachment to the religion of his 
fathers and of his race. 

It is urged that, had Shakespeare been a Catholic, he would not have been 
buried in the chancel of a Protestant church. But Trinity, Stratfc 
church of the old faith, long before Henry VIII. 's date, and, 
church, had not changed its legal Foundation. As part owner of Sj 
Shakespeare was a lay-Rector of the Foundation and so entitled to 
chancel. Yours respectfully, APPLETON MOl 

Rooms of the New York Shakespeare Society, April 5 , i8qq. 




286 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [May, 



THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 

THE Catholic Summer-School, located at Cliff Haven, N. Y., on Lake Cham- 
plain, will hold a session of seven weeks from July 9 to August 25. 
Among the speakers there will be representatives from the Catholic University 
at Washington, D. C., and from many of the leading colleges. Systematic courses 
of lectures are arranged dealing with the progress of social science ; recent de- 
velopments in the study of biology ; willpower in the domain of ethics; char- 
acter studies of authors and statesmen ; episodes of American history, including 
the war with Spain ; and a number of talks at the piano illustrating famous 
musical compositions. 

During six weeks special provision will be made for instruction on approved 
lines to secure the professional advancement of teachers. The main object kept 
in view by the management is to increase the facilities for busy people as well as 
for those of leisure to pursue lines of study in various departments of knowledge 
by providing opportunities of getting instruction from eminent specialists. It is 
not intended to have the scope of the work limited to any class, but rather to 
establish an intellectual centre where any one with serious purpose may come 
and find new incentives to efforts for self-improvement. Here in the leisure of a 
summer vacation, without great expense, one may listen to the best thought of 
the world, condensed and presented by unselfish masters of study. The oppor- 
tunity thus provided of combining different classes of students for mutual im- 
provement will be most acceptable to professors and lecturers who wish to have 
an appreciative audience to enjoy with them the fruits of the latest research in 
history, literature, natural science, and other branches of learning. All these 
branches of human learning are to be considered in the light of Christian truth. 
Applications for copies of the prospectus to be issued as soon as possible 
should be sent, with a two-cent stamp enclosed, to 123 East Fiftieth Street, New 

York City. 

* * * 

From the New York Times we take the following account of a book that is 
having a large sale and has provoked much discussion : 

The Rev. William Barry is a writer of smooth and scholarly English, and 
handles his subject with power and clearness. In The Two Standards he has 
given us a forceful romance that it is a pleasure to read in spite of the introduc- 
tion of many disagreeable characters therein portrayed. The title The Two 
Standards is somewhat misleading, and its significance does not appear until 
late in the story. The first standard is money and lawless love, the other is 
righteousness and equity. The one is expounded through five hundred and odd 
pages ; the other and better part is meanwhile conspicuous by its absence. The 
plot lingers and is a laggard in unfolding, but the character-drawing is perspicu- 
ous and powerful. The heroine, Marian Greystoke, is the headstrong daughter 
of a, worldly, speculating country vicar, and the other members of the household 
are quite unlovely. Mr. Barry's picture of this English clergyman's life is not a 
pleasant one, but it is a faithful portrayal of a type. We may sincerely trust 
that the class is a small one. Marian's mother is a canting Calvinist and en- 



1899-] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 287 

tirely out of sympathy with her daughter. The family has been reduced from a 
comfortable competence by the stock-gambling of both father and mother, 
and has nearly reached a state of absolute penury. This is particularly harass- 
ing to Marian, who, obstinate, proud, and selfish, has great social ambi- 
tions. She goes on a visit to London, and there, for the first time, comes into 
contact with the life of a great city and with people of wealth. She is fascinated 
by all this, and by means of her fine voice obtains entree to the homes of some 
few families of position. In this way she meets a wealthy speculator and pro- 
moter, whom she marries. He is temporarily fascinated with her voice and 
personality, and for a time is very devoted. Marian speedily finds, however, 
that gold does not always buy happiness, and through trial and suffering she 
learns her lessons as surely in her palace as was the case in her former home in 
the country curate's house. 

The later development of her character is thrilling and pathetic, and many 
times enlists the reader's sympathy, though frequently now and again inspiring 
disgust. Marian does credit to her early training and environment, and runs 
her inevitable course. Nearly all the people in the book are either sordid in 
their motives or scheming for self-aggrandizement or revenge, and they are 
far from being altogether lovely. Miss Raby, a woman physician, the friend 
Marian visits in London, is as near being unselfish and lovable as any one in the 
tale. She is the only one who appears to act from disinterested motives. There 
are several artists and musicians who figure prominently, but rarely to their 
credit. 

The 'Iivo Standards is a novel of parts, to be read for its artistic construc- 
tion and beauty of diction rather than for entertainment. Its tendency is rather 
depressing, and its ethical horizon can hardly be called elevating, although the 
moral to be drawn from the career of Marian and her husband is unmistakable. 
The book has a distinctive atmosphere entirely its own, and is clever to a de- 
gree. The musical element therein is not without alluring representation and 
symbolization. 



In that excellent paper, the Liverpool Catholic Times, a writer using the 
signature C. N. has stated a most important truth in these words : 

Literature is fortunately, or unfortunately, one of the most untrammelled of 
arts, wherefore it appears so easy and tempts so many; upon the writer's artis- 
tic perception, knowledge of life and good taste, depend what he eliminates and 
what he presents, and how and with what effect. We know that humanity can 
never be totally depraved, and we read with this reservation in our minds. If 
Protestant writers, in seeking the quaintness of another age, delight in such 
subjects as " The Madonna of the Peach-tree," that is partly because everything 
then existing, good and bad, was necessarily Catholic and Catholicism is so 
seductive that no one, friend or enemy, can ever leave it alone and if the bad 
is picked out by preference, magnified, and dwelt upon well, it is a personal 
choice. 

We Catholics have a more proportionate view of the robust iniquities of 
our robust forefathers, because we remember that the same epoch gave the 
church those brilliant saints whose intellectual activity and purity of life are our 
example, and we cannot read any local history without meeting the lesser but 
widespread rank of good men who have left a fair repute behind them within 
their more restricted scope. 



288 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [May, 1899.] 

No doubt, a Catholic author could not write without the risk of unkind com- 
ment such a book as, say, The Chaplain of the Fleet, by Besant. We might 
have expected Protestantism, being modern, with its loud-voiced protestation, 
its Bible, its tract-distributing ladies and street-preachers, to set us " misguided 
Papists "a very admirable example indeed in Christian perfection, instead of 
deliberately reviving the backslidings of its ancestors, and needlessly pointing 
out where Christians have fallen short of their high ideal in a manner generally 
misleading, often offensive. But let us be indulgent, we who reside in touch 
with the vivifying heart of the church, who never loses her power of rebuking 
and reforming the children that sully her outer garment. We may watch with 
impunity, as we often have the opportunity of doing, the pot calling the kettle 
black, since we know that the kettle holds pure water. 

* * * 

Mr. J. D. O'Connell, of the Bureau of Statistics, Washington, D.C., has done 
excellent service in teaching correct history through the daily papers. With a 
full knowledge of the facts he contends that it must appear to any person of com- 
mon sense that not even one-tenth of our white population is of English descent ; 
and even if that fraction was of such descent, any person who is not blind may 
easily see for himself, no matter where he goes in this country, that the dark- 
haired type of our people is at least in the proportion of seventy per cent, to the 
remaining thirty per cent, of light-haired people. It therefore goes without 
saying, even if we should accept every light-haired American of English ances- 
try as an Anglo-Saxon, that this fraction of the English element in our make-up 
is too insignificantly small to be worth the trouble of seriously considering as a 
factor either in the past or in the present of our national development. 

Is it not about time to call a halt on these Anglo-maniacs who imagine that 
they are greater and worthier than the overwhelming mass of their fellow-citi- 
zens? I think it is time. No one has a right to intrude his ignorant balderdash 
upon the reading public about " Anglo-Saxons " when he cannot even name and 
prove a single characteristic of the alleged Anglo-Saxons or describe ethnologi- 
cally or physiologically the mental traits which distinguish the Angles and Saxons 
of England from the Britons and Celts of England. If he can do this, what is 
the result? Simply this : that the Angles and Saxons are still a comparatively 
insignificant element in the make-up of the English people, and infinitely 
more insignificant in the make-up of the American people. The language we 
have is undoubtedly a Germanic tongue a brave language but its mother 
would not 'know it to-day. Like the Angles and Saxons themselves it was 
developed and refined by the ennobling and civilizing influences of Celtic, Greek, 
and Roman letters and literature, and the Mediterranean arts, sciences, and in- 
stitutions of the so-called Latin race. 

If predominance of race is anything to be proud of as a factor in the devel- 
opment of our institutions and national progress, certainly the so-called Anglo- 
Saxon element cannot for a moment be considered as other than a very small 
fraction of that factor ; and just as certainly the dark-haired race " Celtic," or 
whatever you may call it must be awarded the honor and glory of making 
America what it is to-day, and of making the " English-speaking peoples " 
throughout the world what they are to-day. M. C. M. 



vol.68 



The Catholic : .;orld