Full text of "The Catholic world"

CATHOLIC WORLD.

MONTHLY MAGAZINE

GENERAL LITERATURE AND SCIENCE.

VOL. LXXI.

APRIL, 1900, TO SEPTEMBER, 1900.

NEW YORK :
THE OFFICE OF THE CATHOLIC WORLD,

120 WEST 6oth STREET.

1900.

THE CotuMiut PRESS, 120 WMT GOTH ST. NEW YORK.

CONTENTS.

American Villa at Castel Gandolfo, The.

(Illustrated.') P. L. Connellan, . 161

Angel of God, An. Art Sherman, . 266

Armenians, Religious Customs among
the. (Illustrated.} Right Rev.
Paul Terzian, .... 305, 500

Benevolent Highwayman, A.. John A.

Foote, 317

Bernard, Claude, (Frontispiece.)

Bernard, Claude, The Physiologist.

James f. Walsh, Ph.D., M.D., . 513

Bible in the Catholic Church, The Place

of the. Dr. B. F. De Losta, 433, 605

Bible in the Life, Thought, and Homes
of the People, The. Dr. B. F. De
Costa, 751

Biologists, Three Great : Theodor
Schwann. (Portrait.} James J.
Walsh, M.D., Ph.D., . . 198

Bruyere, Elizabeth. (Portrait.} Fran-
ces Fitzpatrick, . . . .12

Catholic Church in China, The Pros-
pects of the. (Illustrated), . . 737

Catholic Church in Kerkyra (Corfu),
The. (Illustrated.) Rev. Daniel
Quinn, Ph.D., 17

Catholicity in Northern Europe, Recent

Progress of. Charles W. Dowd, . 646

Catholic Layman in Higher Education,

The. Thomas P. Kernan, . . 381

Catholic Mission in the North-west, The
Pioneer. (Illustrated.} E. A.
Bridger 842

Catholic Republic, A. (Illustrated.}

Rev. M. P. Heffernan, . . . 527

Catholic Social Settlement, The Scope

of the. A. A. McGinley, . . 145

Chemical Romance, A. Edward F.

Garesche, 97

China and the Missions, The Crisis in.
(Illustrated.} Rev. A. P. Doyle,
C.S.P, . ... . .548

Christian Art : Its Mission and Influ-
ence. Katherine F. M. O^Shea, . 815

Christian Brothers' Schools in Ireland, 142

Christian Missions in Japan. Francis

Penman, ...... 460

Columbian Reading Union, The, 143, 284,
428, 573, 717, 860

Convent Graduate in the Social Settle-
ment, A New Field for the. A. A.
McGinley, ..... 396

Cromwell and Liberty. (Portrait.)

Rev. George Me Der mot, C.S.P., , 487

De la Salle, St. John Baptist, and the
Founding of the Christian Brothers.
C. M. Graham, .... 672

Deliverance of P'tit Fils, The./. Ger-
trude Menard, .... 210

Dudleian Lecture for 1899, The. Rev.

fames /. Fox, D.D., . . . 245

Ecclesiastical Art, The Reformation of, 556

Editorial Notes, 141, 283, 427, 572, 713, 857

Elective System of Studies, The. Rev.

fames A. Burns, C.S.C., . . 366

Father Tom's Wedding-Gift. Austin

O'Milley, 468

Fort Creve-Creur. (Illustrated.} Rev.

Frank J. O'Reilly, .... 88

Gran Sasso, In sight of the. (Illus-
trated.} E. C. Van sit tart, . . 233

He Departed from them, and was Car-
ried up into Heaven, (Frontispiece.)

Heroes of Our Own Land. (Illus-
trated.} Marion J. Brunowe, . 802

History of Nature, A Plan in the. Wil-
liam Set on, LL.D., .... 376

Hoboken Catastrophe, The. (Illus-
trated.} Mrs. Alexander Sullivan, 664

.Holy Spirit, Devotion to the. Rev.

Joseph McSorley, C.S.P., . . 290

Home-Relief the best form of Organized

Charity. John E. Graham, . . 731

Ignatius Loyola, The Sanctity of, . 577

Immigration, as it has been, . . .no

India, A Story from, .... 715

Indian Contract Schools. M. P. Casey, 629

Italian in America, The : What he has
been, What he shall be. (Illus-
trated.} Laurence Franklin, . 67

Italian Monarchy Endure ? Can the.

(Illustrated.} A. Diarista, . . 721

Jerusalem, A New. (Illustrated.}

Lucy Garnet t, . . . .612

Jew in Europe the Christian's Antagon-
ist, The. Charles C. Starbuck, . 828

Lace-Making in Belgium, On. (Illus-
trated.} -E. F. Johnson-Browne,
M.A., 443

Lane to the Mill, The. Edward F.

Garesche, ..... 590

Languages in College, Teaching Mod-
ern. V. Rev. John P. Carroll, D.D., 622

Legend of the Norse-God, A. Geor-

gina Pell Curtis, .... 654

Leo the Thirteenth, The Poetry of.

Anna Blanche Me Gill, . . .685

Mater Purissima, The Robe of. B.

Nash-O 'Connor, .... 757

MedijEvak Magdalen. K. (Illustrated.}
Contessa F. Gautier, . . . 772

Misericordia Domini. Dr. Nicholas

Bjerring, 402

Mivart's Last Utterance, Dr. Rev.

George M. Searle, C.S. P., . . 353

Modern Science and the Catholic

Faith. Rev.H H. Wyman, C.S.P., i

Montalembert, and his Visit to O'Con-
nell. (Portrait.} Rev. Joseph Gor-
dian Daley, 331

Nativity of St. John the Baptist,

(Frontispiece.}

Newman, Another Aspect of. Rev.

Henry E. O> Keeffe, C.S.P., . . Si

Newman, John Henry, (Frontispiece.}

Old Slavery Days were gone, When.

Bessie O' 1 Byrne, .... 792

Passion as told in the Church's Hymns,
The Story of the. (Illustrated.}
E. Lyell Earle, .... 46

Peasant Life in the Harz. (Illustrated.}

Carina Campbell Eaglesfield, 638

Philosophy in Trinity College, Chair
of, Washington, D. C. Rev.
George McDermot, CS.P., . . 386

Profit-Sharing as a System of Econo-
mics Leopold Katscher, . . 785

Profit-Sharing Justifiable ? Is. Leopold

Katscher, 225

Russell, Lord, (Frontispiece.)

Russian Schismatic Church," "The.

Rev. Joseph Boyle, .... 58

Saint Ignatius, (Frontispiece.)

School-Days are Over, When. Hon.

Judge Cortwright, .... 691

Scion of Old Spain, A. (Illustrated.}

Edith Martin Smith, . . . 476

Solar Eclipse, The Recent. Rev. George

M. Searle, C.S.P., . . . .542

Song of the Lord, The. Minnie Gil-
more, 30, 173

South-western France, A Visit in. (Il-
lustrated.) Alice A. Cat/in, . 1 88

Talk about New Books, 115, 272, 405, 561,

697, 851

Texas Missionaries, In the Footsteps of.
( Illustrated. ) Thomas O' Hagan ,
M.A., Ph.D 340

Whittier's " Captain's Well," The Story

of. (Illustrated.} Mary E. Desmond, 595

Young, C.S.P., Rev. Alfred. (Por-
traits.} ...... 257

CONTENTS.

POETRY.

A Nun. /. O. Austin, . . . 589

Beauty, 467

Cronje's Last Stand. fohn Jerome

Rooney, ...... 66

Dreaded Dawn, The. (Illustrated.}

Rev. P. A. Sheehan, . . .17
Gounod's "Ave Maria." D. /. Mc-

Mackin, Ph.D., . . . .187

Homes of the Toilers, The. fames

Buckham, 684

I am the Way. Rev. Alfred Young, . 265
Irish Rain, The Dhnp ov the. Mar-
garet M. Halvey, .... 827
Jewish Maid, Ah, Patient Little. Mary

F. Nixon, 109

June. /. O. Austin, .... 289
Legend Sweet, The, .... 696

Love's Wisdom. Bert Martel, . . 442;

Off Shore. fames Buckham, . . 209,

Painted. William P. Cantwell, . . 380-

Peace. Hamilton Craigie, . . . 663.
Pioneers, The Graves of the. (Illus-

trated.} Margaret M. Halvey, . 10

Prayer./. O. Austin, . . . 459.
Preachers, Two. Lucy Gertrude Kel-

352
365,
256
735,

Taps. Francis B. Doherty, . .

The Dreamers. T. B. Reilly, . .
Shipwreck, The. Charleson Shane, .
Song of the Summer, A. Edward F.

Gar esc he, ..... 486

St. Aloysius Gonzaga, On a Portrait of.

D. /. Me Mac kin, Ph.D., . . 555
Sursum Corda. Helen M. Sweeney, . 375,

NEW PUBLICATIONS.

Alabaster Box, The, .... 416
Ambrose Phillipps de Lisle, Life and

Letters of, 131

America and France, .... 709

Bewitched Fiddle, and other Irish Tales, 418

Bible and its Interpreter, The, . . 561
Blood of the Lamb, The, . . .116

Blue Jackets of 1898, . . . * . 121

Boy, . 854

Boy Saver's Series, The, . . . 277

Brook Farm, 405

Catholic Directory (official), 1900, The 282
Christianity of St. Paul, The, . .115

Church History, Studies in, . . . 562

Church of Christ the Same For Ever, . 422

Conception of Immortality, The, . . 421

Currita, Countess of Albornoz, . . 705

Daniel O'Connell : sa Vie, son CEuvre, 423

Daughter of France, A, . . . . 416

D. L. Moody, Life of, . . . . 569

Duchess of York's Page, The, . . 420

Education and the Future of Religion, 710
English Literature, History of, . .411

Epitome of the New Testament, An, . 856

Fabri Conciones, 706

Father Anthony : A Romance of to-day, 852

Four Last Thines, The, . . . 276

French Lilies, For the, 119

Gabriel, C.P., Life of Venerable, . 120
Golden Legend, The ; or, Lives of the

Saints, as Englished by Wm. Caxton, 697
Greek Idylls, Echoes of, . . .117

Ignatius Loyola, The Testament of, . 702

Ireland and France, .... 125

Heiress of Cronenstein, The, . . 420

Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, The, . . 422

Jack Hildreth on the Nile, . . . 422

Jane Austen, 407

Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents.
Travels and Explorations of the Jesu-
it Missionaries in New France, 1610-

1791, The, 708

John Ruskin, ...... 703

Journey around the World with the

Sun, A, .419

.Tulien 1'Apostat, 854

Lewis Carroll, The Story of, . .119

Liberty Poems, 702

Life of St. Mechtildis, The, ... 566

Little Maid of Israel, The, . . . 704
Loretto Centenary, Souvenir of, 1799-

1899- . . 136

Manual of English History for the use

of Schools, A, 563

Morrow of Life, The, .... 414
Michael O'Donnell ; or, The Fortunes

Qf a. Little Emigrant, .... 421

Missionary Priest in the Rocky Moun-
tains, Notes of a, . . . . 421:
Mother de la Nativite, and the origin of
the Community of the Sisters of Mis-

ericorde, 707.

Music Review, ..... 704
My New Curate, ..... 273,
Nativity -of our Lord Jesus Christ, The, 123
New Evangelism, The, .... 130
Old Family, An, or the Setons of Scot-
land and America, .... 424
Perfect Religious, The, . . . 417,

Port Royal Education, . . . .117
Reign of Law, The : A Tale of the Ken-
tucky Hemp-fields, .... 698'
Revolutionist, Memoirs of a, . . 406-

Roman Society in the Last Century of

the Western Empire, .... 704
Rome, Hand-book to Christian and

Ecclesiastical, 855

Room of the Rose, and other Stories,

The, 276*

Saint Anthony of Padua and the Twen-
tieth Century, 126*

St. Francis de Sales, Meditations for
Retreats taken from the Writings of, 276*

Saint Jerome, 698

St. Peter in Rome, .... 407

Sanctuary Meditations for Priests and

frequent Communicants ; serving as

a preparation for, at the time of, and

thanksgiving after receiving the Holy

Eucharist, 706-

Sign of the Harp, At the, . . . 277
Signers of the Night, The, . . . 125
Soldier of Christ, The; or, Talks be-
fore Confirmation, .... 563
Son of the State, A, .... 123
Speculum Perfectionis : seu S. Francisci
Assisiensis Legenda Antiquissima,
Auctore Fratre Leone. Nunc primum
edidit Paul Sabatier, . . . 853.
Spirit of the Third Order of St. Fran-
cis, The 417

Story-Books of Little Gidding, The, . nfr
Studies in Literature, . . . .119.
Studies in Poetry, Critical, Analytical,

and Interpretative, .... 701
Study of the Scriptures, General Intro-
duction to the, ..... 567
Theism in the Light of Present Science

and Philosophy, ..... 127
Three Archangels and the Guardian

Angels in Art, The, . . .128
Voices of Freedom, The, . . .118
Woman Beautiful, The, . . .13?
Young April, 130

JOHN HENRY NEWMAN.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD,

VOL. LXXI. APRIL, 1900. No. 421.

MODERN SCIENCE AND THE CATHOLIC FAITH.

BY REV. H. H. WYMAN, C.S.P.

HERE is no religious question which has excited
more comment in our day than that of the rela-
tion of the Catholic faith to the teachings of mod-
ern science. Unfortunately, too many of the pro-
fessional scientists of to-day either do not believe
in Revelation or are hostile to it ; and they have
sought rather to find discrepancies between the
teachings of the church and the facts of science
than harmony between these different orders of
truth. Their work is negative and destructive. Our work
shall be positive and -constructive. On this account I must
begin with the principles upon which our comparison is based.
In the first place, for the right understanding of the relation
of natural to supernatural knowledge, we must always bear in
mind their totally distinct spheres. I do not mean by this
that the same truths may not belong to both spheres, but it
must always be borne in mind that if God has made a reve-
lation to man, it must contain, besides many truths which
may be known and demonstrated by natural reason, truths
which are above and unattainable by reason ; otherwise there
would be no need of revelation. Unfortunately, because this
principle has been lost sight of by many, and because they
have presumed that reason and revelation are on an equality,
and that theology and philosophy must be treated in the same
manner, they have fallen into the deepest errors. It must also
be remembered that revelation is necessary if we are to know
any truth above reason. Such revelation raises man to a
supernatural state, and on this account God illumines with

STATE OF NEW YORK. 1900.
VOL. LXXI. I

2 MODERN SCIENCE AND THE CATHOLIC FAITH. [April,

a supernatural light the minds of believers in, his revelation.
While reason* in its own sphere of purely natural knowledge is
infallible, it has no right to so intrude itself into the sphere of
supernatural knowledge as to claim the power of judging what
is true or false in revelation.

God in making his revelation has established, by the per-
petual union of the Holy Ghost with his chosen teachers, an
authoritative tribunal which alone is competent to judge of
such matters. Therefore theological science must not be treated
in the same manner as purely natural science.

The so-called Old-Catholics of Germany, for instance, re-
jected the decrees of the Vatican Council on purely rationalis-
tic grounds. They opposed to the infallible decrees of the
church their own private judgment in matters of history, just
the same as the so-called Reformers of the sixteenth century
opposed their private judgment to church authority in inter-
preting Scripture. Every one knows how that principle has
since worked with their followers. The modern so-called Higher
Critics have picked to pieces the Bible and destroyed to a
great extent, among their followers, the belief in its authority
and inspiration.

We are obliged to adhere strictly to certain clear and self-
evident principles if we wish to have knowledge on any sub-
ject. Just as it is impossible for one to know what God has
revealed without faith, so it is impossible for one to understand
philosophy or science without accepting the self-evident truths
of reason.

In treating this subject of the relation of modern science
with the Catholic faith I shall, therefore, start with these two
principles, viz.: that faith must interpret revelation, and that
reason must guide us in science, and I am certain that it can
be shown beyond question that on this basis there can be no
possible conflict between them, but that there is an analogy
between them such that the right understanding of the one
leads to the true knowledge of the other.

THE ORIGIN OF THE HUMAN RACE.

Let us take as a fair test the question of the origin of the
human race. If we reason correctly we cannot help seeing
that all finite beings had a beginning. The very idea of a
finite or limited being presupposes an infinite self-existent Being
who brought it into existence. What are called secondary
causes do not account for the existence of anything, for they

IQOO.] MODERN SCIENCE AND THE CATHOLIC FAITH. 3

are limited and dependent. In the last analysis we find that
an Infinite Creator must exist or there could be no finite ex-
istences. This ultimate or final Cause precludes the possibility
of anything else being eternal ; therefore, everything else that
does exist must have been created or produced out of nothing.
A secondary cause cannot effect something greater than itself.
Hence I do not believe in the possible evolution of a higher
species from a lower, any more than I believe in spontaneous
generation, a theory of the origin of life which was once in
vogue, but has since been rejected by the best biologists.
While organic or living substances contain elements which are
also found in inorganic or lifeless matter, there is in the former
a principle of life which makes the organic essentially different
from the inorganic body. Therefore, an organic body cannot
be evolved from an inorganic. I hold, also, that it would be
just as impossible for a rational animal, such as man, to be
evolved from a sentient animal, such as the ape. The only
point of similitude between them, as Cardinal Manning shows,
is in the construction of the body, whereas there are, as he
says, five essential points of difference, viz.: articulate speech,
abstract thought, a creative mind which produces a poem, essay,
or musical composition, moral judgment which establishes law
and the social order, and conscience which recognizes responsi-
bility to a Higher Power. A conclusion which ignores these
essential differences between man and the lower animal and
rests only upon mere physical resemblance, is an insult to our
intelligence. But those who have labored most ingeniously to
establish these supposed gradations of transition have never
found either the perfected ape or the incipient man. The
missing link is always wanting. Future generations will, I be-
lieve, laugh at the Darwinian theory of the origin of man, as
we now laugh at the ancient philosophers who reduced the
material elements of the universe to four substances : air,
water, earth, and fire.

For the practical-minded it seems to me that the theory
which claims to explain the origin of man by the process of
evolution from the lowest form of matter is no better than the
Chinaman's explanation of the motion of the cable-car, " No
pushy, no pully, but goey." In a word, it does not explain man's
origin. It only confuses and makes complex what reason and
common sense show to be very clear and simple. I think that
the old heathen philosophers who discussed the question which
was first, the infant or the full-grown man, as far as they went,

4 MODERN SCIENCE AND THE CATHOLIC FAITH. [April,

were much more scientific than the agnostic evolutionists of
to-day. If they had been told that there was an Omnipotent
Being who created a man and woman from whom the whole
human race has descended, as we know children now are born
of parents, they would have considered the solution of the
problem as complete. And it is the only rational explanation
of the origin and existence of the human race that is possible.
Do we not thus see the harmony between natural and re-
vealed truth in accounting for the origin and existence of the
human race ?

In the earliest ages of the Christian faith there arose at
Alexandria a school of philosophy in the church which revolu-
tionized the world. In this great city, which at the close of
the second century was the intellectual focus of the world,
Pantenus, St. Clement, and Origen demonstrated the origin of
all finite things by the creative act of God. From that time
we may say that a philosophy in harmony with revelation
gained ascendency in the intellectual world. While the sources
of natural and revealed truth are wholly distinct, the effect of
revelation has always been to enlarge, systemize, and harmon-
ize the natural sciences.

On the other hand, those who have ignored revealed truth
have frequently been led to adopt for a time the most absurd
theories in philosophy. History is repeating itself. The anti-
Christian philosophers and scientists of to-day are wandering
in the dark, and are only causing doubt, confusion, and chaos
in the minds of men. They see this, and when it comes to
matters which belong wholly to the domain of reason they
take refuge in agnosticism, which means simply ignorance.
They not only say that they know nothing beyond the phe-
nomenal or sensible sphere, but that such knowledge is unat-
tainable, is unknowable. As Father Madden, in his excellent
work, The Reaction from Agnostic Science* well remarks, " The
human mind is surely perverse." "You would suppose," he
says, "that a handsomely-set-up being like man would be very
glad just to find himself so ; but no, that is not so." He
wants to sweep away the story of a perfect man and woman
as the direct master-piece of God and reduce man to the same
common level with the brutes. " Grant," says Mr. Darwin, " a
creature like the mud-fish with five senses and some vestige
of a mind, and I believe natural selection will account for the
production of every vertebrate animal."

* 7 he Reaction from Agnostic Science. By Rev. W. J. Madden. St. Louis : B. Herder.

IQOO.] MODERN SCIENCE AND THE CATHOLIC FAITH. 5

INCAUTIOUS ENDEAVORS AT RECONCILIATION.

In view of the fact that so many modern scientists regard
this theory of evolution as scientifically proved, some of our
Catholic writers have (I think incautiously and rashly) ven-
tured to try and reconcile evolution with the revealed ac-
count of man's corporal formation, but I believe there is a
danger that such a theory will weaken in many minds the
doctrine that man has an immortal soul made by the Creator
in his own image. Dr. Mivart, the most prominent theistic
evolutionist, has recently shocked the whole Catholic world by
his attacks on our traditional system of theology. The out-
and-out evolutionist who holds that man, as he is, was evolved
from a lower animal, only laughs at the exception which the
theistic evolutionist makes in favor of the direct creation and
infusion of the rational and spiritual soul into the living body
of a brute. But we know that practically the difference be-
tween man and brute has always and always will be recog-
nized. Nothing is more self-evident than the infinite gulf be-
tween the soul of man and the highest instinct of the brute.
And in the moral order the difference is just as marked. Who
can believe that the animals which we slaughter for food and
destroy as pests have moral rights and responsibilities? The
idea is absurd and would upset our whole mode of living.

No matter how much men may laud the ingenuity of the
theory of evolution it will never satisfy us, whereas the plain,
simple account of a perfect man and woman fashioned by the
Almighty Creator and endowed with intelligence and respon-
sibility is as agreeable as it is elevating and encouraging. It
makes life worth living.

On the other hand, the question of the purpose of human
life, which is the greatest of all questions, can have no mean-
ing according to materialistic evolutionism. All that we can
learn on this subject from Darwin's celebrated books, TJie De-
scent of Man and T/te Origin of Species, says Father Madden,
is that " man has been cast into the viclc f e of this world to
fight, to struggle for his very existence, and in that struggle
to prove his fitness to live by surviving." "Of what use," he
continues, <4 is it to humanity to be told that there is a com-
pelling and invariable law of struggle in animated nature, in
which the weak must always go down before the strong, the
ill-suited yield to the fittest." But when confronted with the
charge of destroying the purpose of life, which is the main-
spring of all successful action in life, they will coolly say

6 MODERN SCIENCE AND THE CATHOLIC FAITH. [April,

science has not discovered any meaning in life except the
struggle for existence.

It is a difficult thing for any one to get anything more than
a cursory knowledge of all the so-called modern sciences, and I
should consider it a fearful task to attempt to master any one
of them, because they are so changeable. The authors of them
tell us, any way, that they are as yet only in their infancy, but
I believe that most of them will die in the cradle. But when
agnostic scientists can succeed in proving clearly how nothing can
of itself make itself something, how there can be effects without
causes, then I may be willing to believe that a brute can by
the process of evolution become a man, but not till then.

DIFFICULTIES BESETTING THE EVOLUTIONARY THEORY.

Brownson shows the theory of evolution to be most absurd
and unscientific, for the following reasons : In the first place,
the very idea of evolution presupposes something already in
existence. Where did that something from which other things
were evolved come from ? There must have been a First
Cause which produced it, which means a Creator.

In the second place, the medium or power which could
cause a lower species to become a higher would have to be a
Creator just as much as the Cause which produced the first
something out of nothing, and finally, just as there would have
to be a something before evolution could begin to operate, so
there would have to be an end where the process would have
to stop. When perfection was reached, there could be no
further evolution. What Power sets this limit of perfection
except an All-perfect Cause? So for these three reasons I do
not see how either the production or development or com-
pletion of anything finite could be possible without an Omni-
potent Creator. If we say that evolution is the action of the
Creator on matter, we deny that there is such a thing as
evolution. Evolution, according to the very definition of its
advocates, means the power of a lower species to transform it-
self into a higher, which is just as impossible as for something
which did not exist to come into existence. Again, if a being
of a lower species could of itself become a being of a higher
species, there would first have to be the' destruction of the
lower species, and then the production of a higher species. If
we suppose, as Mivart thinks possible, the Creator may have
created and infused a rational and immortal soul into the highest
type of brute in place of its previous sentient soul, that sentient
soul would have to be annihilated before the rational soul

1900.] MODERN SCIENCE AND THE CATHOLIC FAITH. 7

could be infused, unless we suppose the sentient and rational
natures are identical, which is absurd. Such an idea, I think,
is most unscientific. Is it not more reasonable to suppose that
when the Creator wanted to make man, who is a composite of
spirit and matter, that he would take simple inorganic matter
at first hand, rather than to take away the sentient soul from
a brute and make man out of its corpse. When a spiritual
substance like a human soul, which is the image of the Creator,
is substantially united to matter to form man, although the
matter is like other matter, it receives a sort of consecration.
The gold and silver of a chalice are just like any other gold
or silver, yet because the sacred chrism of consecration has
been applied to it, it may not be used for profane purposes
without sacrilege. If we fail to see the dignity of the human
form divine and try to put it on the level of other forms of
life, we are like sacrilegious plunderers who pollute the sacred
vessels of the altar. It is the dangerous tendencies of the
theory of evolution which make the guardians of God's revela-
tion oppose its teaching so strenuously. If it be followed out
logically, ,it contradicts also the Catholic doctrines of man's
original justice and his fall and its consequences. Almost at
the same time that Mr. Darwin published his work on the
Descent of Man Sir John Lubbock published a work on the
Origin of Civilization and the Primitive Condition of Man, in
which he maintains that man began in the lowest state of
savagery and by force of nature has raised himself to the re-
finement of civilization. This theory is also based on another
theory that the species is necessarily progressive. But both
these theories start from a mere assumption. As far as there
is any evidence on this subject, it proves not the progress of
man but rather his degeneracy when left to himself. The
theory is unhistorical. We have no record of a savage tribe
becoming civilized without the assistance of other civilized
peoples. There has been progress it is true, but it has been
brought about chiefly by supernatural teaching. The oldest
literature is the best. The book of Genesis is the oldest
historical document in existence, and it teaches the purest
form of religion. The history of polytheism and idolatry are
subsequent developments. Yet in the face of authentic history,
so-called scientific men will assume a theory as true and ask us
to disprove it, whereas the burden of proof of any theory really
rests upon its inventor. I might, for instance, assume that the
poet Homer was five feet six inches tall, and because you
could not prove that he was taller or shorter, it would not

8 MODERN SCIENCE AND THE CATHOLIC FAITH. [April,

follow that he was exactly as tall as I said. This is sub-
stantially the process of reasoning by which the evolutionists
seek to maintain their theory in the face of the contrary
teaching of history and tradition.

Now take the question of the fall of man. Have we not
evidence in ourselves that we are weak and easily inclined to
evil? We were born so. How did the human race come to
have this misfortune ? Is it reasonable to suppose that an All-
perfect Supreme Being made us that way in the beginning?
Is not all actual sin the work of our own will? Philosophi-
cally it is impossible to suppose that any sin or imperfection
to which we are subject is due to any cause but human free
will. The actual sin of progenitors is the only rational ex-
planation of the tendency to sin in the offspring.

The doctrine of revelation concerning the origin of the
human family and its moral and spiritual condition is in per-
fect harmony with everything that reason can teach us on the
subject. Sin is the great curse of the human family. All
admit this, and will readily grant also that any remedy .which
can cure or mitigate this evil is the greatest boon that man-
kind can possibly receive ; but such is the perversity of men's
minds and hearts that they are unwilling to listen to revela-
tion, to look at sin as God looks at it, to struggle against it
as all have to who overcome it, and to penitently seek forgive-
ness from an offended God.

DANGEROUS TENDENCIES OF AGNOSTIC THEORIES.

No one can study the writings of the anti-Christian scien-
tists without seeing that they have a great aversion to the
virtues inculcated by the Gospel. They do not wish to believe.
They prefer to grope because they love darkness rather than
light. We who have the Christian faith know that we can-
not shut our eyes to the truth without sin, yet we are some-
times inclined to think that unbelievers are excusable. All I
say is, if you only read what they say about the faith you will
probably change your opinion. Men actually study to make
difficulties against faith; and to make it respectable to doubt,
frequently invent theories against it. The most bitter enemies
of the church find in Darwinism and its kindred theories their
most potent weapons. They are seeking to disseminate these
views, which have emanated from the gross minds of English
materialists, in the schools of Italy, France, Spain, Austria,
and other Catholic countries wherever they can, solely for the
purpose of destroying the faith. The aim of the anti-Christian

1900.] MODERN SCIENCE AND THE CATHOLIC FAITH. 9

scientists seems to be to establish theories based on mere as-
sumptions as facts. But if we are able to explain, or if they
are unable to prove that we cannot explain, all clearly proved
facts of science in accordance with the Christian doctrine, they
present no real grounds for doubting the truth of revelation.
And to these a priori theories we are able to oppose the posi-
tive testimony of history and tradition. Religion is older than
superstition. Men worshipped God the Creator before they
worshipped idols. The Jewish religion was not evolved from
the patriarchal, but was established on it by new revelations.
Christianity, as its history shows, was not a mere development
from Judaism, but a new dispensation. So you see how the
actual history of religion directly contradicts this theory of
evolution.

There is no disagreement with scientists until they deny
truths of revelation. If they would only keep to their proper
sphere, which is the study and classification of facts that come
within the scope of reason and sense, and not go beyond and
theorize against revelation, they would never be opposed by
theologians. Since both natural and revealed truth come from
God, the right understanding of one order is a great help to
the other, and on this account the church has always encour-
aged the study of the sciences. There is an analogy between
the natural world and its laws and the spiritual world and its
laws, such that we can understand the higher order better by
knowing the lower.

When men accept truth of both orders they get more
knowledge than if they accepted only one, and that the lower
order. But when, on account of some fanciful hypothesis, they
deny revelation which rests upon both supernatural and natu-
ral facts, they, as St. Paul declares, by professing themselves
to be wise, become fools. Of such St. Paul also says they
"change the truth of God into a lie."

Life to the mere scientist is an unaccountable mystery.
We can find no satisfactory explanation of it unless God has
revealed its meaning. Philosophy, as subsidiary and subordi-
nate to revelation, opens a wide field of knowledge, but when
it claims to be equal to or superior to God's direct manifesta-
tion of truth, it becomes as delusive as a dream.

We can have harmony between natural and revealed truth
only by recognizing their different spheres and giving to each
what is due. In this way alone is revelation satisfactory and
complete and science stable and practical.

(Braves of tbe pioneers,

(IN THE ALLEGHANIES.)
BY MARGARET M. HALVEY.

'Neath alien sod and alien sky,

Apart from the beaten track they lie

Tourist and toiler pass them by

The sleeping Pioneers !
O glorious hills, enrobed in haze !
O largessed woods ! O blossomed ways
For ye the meed of our stilted praise,

For them the tribute of tears.

In death as in life companions still,
Who blazed the trail and clomb the

hill,

And waited in faith and wrought
with will,

Thro* the blank of unnoticed years;*
In death as in life one symbol near
Their salve and solace for hurt and fear
Cross of the Master! guarding here

The dust of the Pioneers.

From Glenties and Gurteen and Dermacell
Came Cormac and Manus and Neal : well
Their fading names on the cross-arms tell
The story that still endears :

In chaptered sequence it may be read :
How the home arose and the Faith on-
spread,
Till the light of the Altar

here was shed
On the path of the
Pioneers.

And now ! O, ye Celts, is it lone to
sleep

Where warden watch the m oun tains ^^^sl? 1 -^

-^^=-^_
keep,

Where hill winds moan and hill rains weep ?

Is it lone 'mid your life's compeers ?
Afar from the clover counterpane,

The soft-lipped breeze and soft-shod rain,
Of that land afar o'er the circling main,
The Isle of the Pioneers.

Nay ! past the portals of alien grave,

Who doubts the welcome that Columb gave,

And Brendan the Saint of lake and wave

Who curbeth the sailor's fears !
As they, from the old Land ruthless driven
Your best to the new was freely given,
And never a bond of the old Faith

riven
God's rest to His Pioneers !

Fadeth their names from passing
gaze

Their shrunken graves from the
trodden ways

But aureate still thro.' the darkling haze
Behold yon spire uprears.

Columba's gift to lona's shore,

Ensign that Brendan's Cur-
rack bore,

The Cross ! memorial ever-
more
Of the Celtic Pioneers.

12 ELIZABETH BRUYERE. [April,

ELIZABETH BRUYERE.

A CHARACTER SKETCH.
BY FRANCES FITZPATRICK.

'LIZABETH BRUYERE was twenty-five years of
age when named head of the little colony of
Grey Nuns sent out from Montreal to settle in
Bytown now Ottawa, the capital of the Do-
minion. The year, was 1845.
For thirty years that is, as long as she lived she gov-
erned the colony, which at her death had expanded into a
dozen houses along the banks of the Ottawa River and the
northern borders of New York State, Buffalo leading in the
number of these latter.

The chroniclers of this half-century tell us that, under God's
providence, much of the success which has visibly characterized
the work is directly attributable to the foundress* personality.
The beauty of her character seems indeed to have been
great. She was noble, generous, lofty of aim. Intellectually
her gifts were of a high order, as can still be attested by the
writings she has left, typical among which stands her last
letter, addressed to the different houses of the order, which .is
really a model of close thinking, fluent expression, and virile
affection for those from whom she knew she was about to
separate, the strong point of it being an elevated exhortation
to respect for the hierarchy of the church. This love of the
church was one of her prominent characteristics, the trials of
the church and of the Sovereign Pontiff being for her a source
of solicitude and of prayer. For many years, in fact, the
daily recitation of the Rosary, prescribed by the rule, was
offered for the intention of Christ's Vicar upon earth.

Her charity was tender and universal. She simply could
not view suffering unmoved ; and if her sympathy knew
preferences, it was for the most needy, the most abandoned,
or the most sensitive. In several cases it happened that per-
sons who had known better days were silently suffering the
pangs of actual want, when Mother Bruyere, being acquainted
of the painful circumstances, came to their relief with a secrecy
as delicate as it was absolute.

IQOO.]

ELIZABETH BRUYERE.

In the typhus epidemic incident on the exodus from Ire-
land following the famine of 1847, an d which in itself would
make an historic monograph charged with tragic pathos,
Mother Bruyere and her little band of coworkers heroically
devoted themselves to the sufferers cast ashore on the banks
of the Ottawa, until the last sufferer needed their services.

If her love for her fellow-men in need was sincere and gene-
rous as evinced to strangers, so was it tender, watchful, unre-
mitting towards those of her own household. Did any one of
hers manifest symptoms of failing health, the mother's prac-
tised eye at once detected it and at once sought to apply
relief. And in this there seems to have been, personal sympa-
thy apart, a lurking element of justice. She argued that one

14 ELIZABETH BRUYERE. [April,

cannot stipulate to do what one is not able to do physically,
intellectually, morally without flagrantly violating honesty.

The piety which characterized her life was of the most
trustful nature. Her favorite maxim that which serves as in-
scription on her tomb might very well be taken as the epito-
me of her normal spiritual attitude : " Cast all thy care on
God ; he will sustain thee and relieve thee in thy sorrows."

At times, too, she rose to heights of contemplation in
which her soul seemed rapt in God. On one occasion, the
members of the order being gathered together in the chapel
for prayer, which at the moment consisted in certain set invo-
cations to the Eternal Father, Mother Bruyere burst forth
into most beautiful impromptu paraphrasing, which the few
remaining veterans of her time now describe as having heard,
gazing with awed faces on what they considered their Mount
Thabor.

In times of supreme trial, to which she in common with
other tlite souls was no stranger, she stood firm and unflinch-
ing, trusting to Him who wills that not a hair of our head
shall fall without his knowledge, for deliverance, for redress.

In truth, it was largely because of this fashioning on afflic-
tion's anvil that she was so often able to be to others " The
cup of strength in some great agony."

She had a deep and abiding sense of gratitude. Unceasingly
she insisted that benefactors, those even who had ever done
the order, or any individual member of the order, a kindness,
should be constantly remembered with grateful prayers.

Perhaps the very uprightness of her intentions, the single-
ness of her purpose, left her open to imposition. She was
guileless and unsophisticated in the ways of the world to a
degree which, no doubt, may at times have made her a prey to
deception. But this was what might be termed her extreme
" other-worldliness," or was merely the conclusion faulty, of
course drawn from the premises of her own candor and sim-
plicity.

Elizabeth Bruyere was, it must be repeated, a woman of
high ideals. In all her undertakings she aspired to the best,
and this inevitably made her exacting and at times severe.

As regards observance of the 'proprieties, she seems to
have thought, with Coventry Patmore, that " There is nothing
comparable for moral force to the charm of truly noble man-
ners." She may be said to have been a stickler for social
conventionalities, although detesting martinetism ; and frequenj-

i goo.] ELIZABETH BRUYERE. 15

were the individual rehearsals of forgetful junior members in the
art of low, graceful bowing, for her never obsolete.

Her own manners were distinguished the slightest service
being rewarded with a gracious " Thanks ! " If a favor had to
be requested of her inferiors in rank or age, it was couched in
such condescending words as to make the granting of it an
eager pleasure.

In appearance she was good to look upon, not indeed for
perfection of feature and delicacy of color, but because of that
expression of soul which lighted up her face with varying evi-
dences of intelligence and emotion. In person she was tall,
and in later years inclined to an obesity which in amplifying
her form lent to it a matronly dignity. Her eyes were gray,
large, full ; the brow broad, benevolent ; her smile was of the
rarest sweetness. The whole countenance breathed an agreeable,
sanctity. At all times there was discernible in her bearing the
distinction of command.

In conversation she was brilliant ; French literature, history,
and the relations of Christ's Church as the informing idea of
all, being pleasant and instructive to hear from her particularly,
as her voice was singularly well-modulated and winning.

She possessed in a remarkable degree that penetration of
mind so essential to one engaged in directing others ; her
skill in employing this rare quality being most profitably mani-
fested in her masterly manner of diagnosing a recruit, and in
her power of discerning the potentialities of those with whom
she had intimately to deal.

Elizabeth Bruyere was one of the pioneer religious educa-
tors of Upper Canada, where indeed the United Empire
Loyalists had firmly implanted their noble and sturdy tradi-
tions, and where the descendant of Scotch Covenanters had
transplanted to New World soil the hardy tenacity of their
native hills, but where likewise the " exile from Erin " and
the loyal lover of the fleur-de-lis, anxious to amass for their
heirs a heritage of supernatural faith, demanded for their
daughters, particularly, the advantage of that careful educa-
tional training character-building under organized, gentle, con-
secrated womanly influence which they knew was necessary
to this end.

Perhaps it will count among the discoveries of this psycho-
logic age that the church has always had in practice what
the most thoughtful educators of the present day augur in
the signs of the times. Witness an eminent authority, in the

1 6 ELIZABETH BRUYERE. [April,

current number of the annual educational Outlook, predicting
that the education of the near future "will focus upon the
feelings, sentiments, emotions, and try to do something for the
heart, out of which are the issues of life."

This the religious teaching orders have always been doing ;
this Mother Bruyere and her auxiliaries inaugurated at Ottawa
in the middle of the century just closing.

In her attitude towards the public she seems to have been
actuated by Plato's principle, 4< The government is for the
people " ; she believed that the raison d'etre of an active body
is the public need, rather than that body's personal emolument,
or rather, even than the exclusive exigencies of rules. And
this without detriment to the primal aim of personal sanctifi-
cation, or rather, as an interpretation of that aim.

There existed, therefore, between her and the society with
which she was brought into contact most marked relations of
mutual esteem, understanding, sympathy, assistance, and har-
mony.

Since the advent to Ottawa of the colony headed by Eliza-
beth Bruyere, in 1845, ^ is no exaggeration to say that hun-
dreds of thousands of souls have come under the control of
the order which she conducted thither, and the impulse of the
movement is still going on. The rude and humble inception
of the work has taken on proportions of considerable magni-
tude, to which are not wanting lines of admirable beauty.

Many of the ideals after which Mother Elizabeth Bruyere
strove certainly hold still, while others, perhaps of less loftiness,
may in some instances be found in the seats of the mighty ;
but it cannot be gainsaid that zeal and self-sacrifice are now
as then passing strong in the order, and seem destined to abide
with it a possession for ever.

It is with religious orders as with the patriarchs, they can
scarcely be considered out of their adolescence at their fifth
decade. Trial and experiment and circumstance must have for
co-operator God's own time, whose wondrous works are accom-
plished with a calmness and a deliberation akin to repose.

SHE DREADED DAWN,

AN ALLEGORY.

BY REV. P. A. SHEEHAN.

"/ know nothing more touching-, or perhaps terrible, than
the dawn of self-consciousness in the soul of a child. ' '

ILLUSTRATED BY KATE MATHESON.

Ismene ! we walked the sands together,
And I was winter, and you were Ma}^ ;
But our love of the sea broke time asunder,
Made summer for both that livelong day.

Ismene ! your hand was gathered in mine,
Like the heart of a rose in its withered leaves,
And your finger-petals twined and closed,
As your image twines around him that grieves.

Ismene ! your gray eyes wandered afar
O'er the tumbling billows that heaved and broke,
And then sought mine ; but I feared to look,
Lest the soul I dreaded had there awoke.

Ismene ! a child thou wert then, and a child
I prayed you'd remain thro' the clust'ring years.
Alas! for time knows but growth and change,
And they come with the terrors of list'ning fears.

Ismene ! you lifted a shell to the shell
Of the soft pink ears that had heard but the notes
That slip from the skies, as a loosened lock
Slips over thy neck, and the salt wind floats.

Ismene! you said, "Hark, hark to the waves,
And the echoing sounds from the far-off shore !

I wonder do angels play with shells,

Do they start at the leap of the sea's long roar?

Ismene ! I thanked my God at the word,
Though I dreaded to meet thy soft gray eye ;
And I said in my heart, she is still but a child,
We may linger and love as in days gone by.

Ismene ! the hooded eve came down,
And a shadow fell betwixt you and me ;
And your brow grew troubled ; you looked afar
O'er the purple wastes of the twilight sea.

Ismene ! I said, " Let us go " ; and you drew
The trembling petals of your white hand
From mine ; that closed, as the Hand of God
Drew up his curtains o'er sea and land.

Ismene! I said, ''Behold the night!

The hermit night, and his sanctities

Of star and wave." Then I ventured to look

In the fathomless depths of Ismene's eyes.

Ismene ! I hoped that thy child-soul gazed
From eyes that were pure as the eyes of a fawn.
Alas! 'twas a woman's soul looked at me:
I was face to face with the dreaded dawn.

ARCHBISHOP OF KERKYRA.

THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN KERKYRA * (CORFU).

BY REV. DANIEL QUINN, Ph.D. (Kerkyra, Greece).

HAT most emphatically attracts the curiosity of
the investigator who would undertake to un-
derstand the work of the church past and
present in the Greek island of Kerkyra is the
widely varying fortune, the odd ups and downs,
experienced during the long and troublous ages that she had
to live through since the days of her first establishment down
to the present century. These successive fortunes of the
Church of Kerkyra are complex and extensive.

* We follow by preference the Greek forms of spelling of Dr. Quinn, who has an estab-
lished reputation as a Hellenist. En. CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE.
VOL. LXXI. 2

1 8 THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN KERKYRA (CORFU). [April,

The vicissitudes of the church cannot properly be un-
derstood if severed from the varying political fate of the
island. For this reason the ecclesiastical historian cannot keep
himself independent of those other researchers who have
applied themselves to the profane history of the island, nor
from those who have scientifically taken up its archaeology, or
even its geography. And this also may be noted, that while
respectably numerous are the scholars who have devoted them-
selves to the general and profane history of the island, no one
has as yet consecrated his energies to the study of the peculiar
career of the church here.

Many ages earlier than Christ's coming Kerkyra appeared
H- : in ;official history. It enjoys even prehistoric fame, for there
ha^e been and still are readers of Homer who think that this
f is ,the fabled island of the Phaeaks where shipwrecked Odys-
seus found rest and hospitality in the palace of Alkinous. The
myth might be attractive if retold from the Navsikaa, but it
belongs not here. The earliest undoubted historic fact re-
corded concerning Kerkyra refers to the seventh century before
Christ, and notes a naval battle between the Kerkyrseans and
the men of Korinth. This is the first naval battle recorded in
European history.

The lovely climate of the island, its generous fertility, its
superb location both as a commercial station and as a military
position, have always made Kerkyra an object of desire to
those who appreciated these^ advantages. Often, therefore, in
its long history has it seen its masters flee before more power-
ful successors. Of all the East the Kerkyraeans were the first
to become a portion of the Roman world ; for in the year
228 before Christ, to save themselves from the pirates of II-
lyria, they voluntarily placed themselves under the protection
of the strong republic.*

From this year Kerkyra continued to be a Roman posses-
sion. When the empire was divided into Eastern and Western,
Kerkyra was kept within the bounds of the Eastern. Thus
did it become part of the Byzantine Empire, and such did it
remain until A. D. 1081, when it was captured by Robert
Guiscard. This brave adventurer had already put southern
Italy under the heels of his Norman soldiers, and came East
to claim for himself the throne of Constantinopol. But he
carried his conquests no farther than Greece, and upon his
romantic death in Kephallenia, Kerkyra returned to its Byzan-

* Polybios, ii. n.

'THE CA THOLIC CHURCH IN KERKYRA (CORFU]. 19

20 THE CA THOLIC CHURCH IN KERKYRA (CORFU). [April,

tine masters after four years of Norman ownership. Again,
however, in the year 1147, the Normans captured it, this time
led by Roger, son of the conqueror of Sicily. Thenceforth
the island continued almost uninterruptedly to be the property
of some Western power, except from about A. D. 1210 to
1260, when it was a portion of the domain of Michael Kom-
nenos, despot of Epiros, who took the island from the Vene-
tians and held it against them for these fifty years.

This meagre sketch of the history of the island is necessary
for our purpose. In the course of the narrative it will be
needful from time to time to interweave yet other facts of
general history.

As regards its geographical position, Kerkyra is a beautiful
island in the Adriatic, ten hours by steamer east of Brindisi,
and, by the same method of travelling, about two days distant
from Triest and Venice. It lies along the mainland of the
Turkish Empire, being separated from the province of Epiros
only by a narrow strait which forms an excellent harbor. The
inhabitants live, part of them, in the city, which bears the
same name as the island, and the others in villages dotted
over the country districts in valleys and on mountain slopes.
The people of the villages are all Greeks, but the citizens of
the town are a mixed product, chiefly Hellenic, however.
These city-folk speak Italian as fluently to-day as Greek.

The Gospel was brought to Kerkyra and disseminated here
by Jason and Sosipatros, two men who are mentioned by St.
Paul* in terms of endearment. Sosipatros is not mentioned
elsewhere in the New Testament, but this Jason is supposed
to be the same as he who is named in the Acts,f and at
whose house St. Paul and his companion Silas stayed while
preaching the Gospel in the city of Thessalonika.

But concerning these missionaries and their history little is
really known. The only sources of information are the liturgi-
cal books of the Eastern Church. Following these authorities,
hagiography declares that this Jason who came to Kerkyra
was, as stated above, identical with him who entertained and
protected St. Paul in Thessalonika, and who is called a " rela-
tion " by Paul in his letter to the Romans.:): Being related to
St. Paul in some way, he must have been a Jew one of the
Diaspora. And since he had a residence in Thessalonika, and
was well known there, he may have been a native of that city.
There it was that he first learned from Paul's lips the doctrine

* Rom. xvi. 21. f xvii. \ xvi. 21.

1900.] THE CA THOLIC CHURCH IN KERKYRA (CORFU). 21

of Christ and became a believer. St. Paul afterward sent him
to Tarsos as bishop of the Christian community there. From
Tarsos he came to Kerkyra.

The Greek Menceon^ and Menology, which narrate the above
concerning Jason, teach as regards his companion, Sosipatros,

MONASTERY ON MOUSE ISLAND.

that he was a native of Patras, in Achaia, and that after be-
coming a Christian he was appointed bishop of Ikonion in
Asia Minor. Both came together from Asia to Kerkyra as
missionaries. Their labors were successful. A church was
built, bearing the name of the proto-martyr Stephen. Here,
however, as elsewhere, success was not unmixed. The adhe-
rents of the disturbed gods incited persecutions, and many of
the Christians died in testimony of their faith in the new reli-
gion. Among these martyrs was Sosipatros.

Idolatry did not entirely cease to be the prevailing religion
until about the time of the reign of the Emperor Severus
(A. D. 193-211). Nevertheless from the very beginning the
Christian community was perhaps sufficiently significant to
possess a bishop, although if such a succession of bishops ac-
tually occupied this see, history, unfortunately, has failed to
keep record of the fact. For, excepting the two glorious
founders of Christianity in the island, the first bishop of Ker-

22 THE CA THOLIC CHURCH IN KERKYRA (CORFU}. [April,

kyra whose name has been kept in memory was Apollodoros,
one of the Fathers who sat in the Council of Nice.*

When the Eastern Empire was remodelled and redivided,
by Constantin the Great, into nomarchies, dioceses, and
provinces, the island of Kerkyra became administratively sub-
ject to Epiros, which was one of the five provinces that made
up the diocese of Eastern Illyria. The chief city of the entire
diocese, and therefore the seat of government, was Thessalonika.
But the seat of the more local government for the single province
of Epiros, to which Kerkyra belonged, was Nikopolis, a city
founded by Augustos in memory of his naval victory off Aktion.
Since the church government accepted the same divisions and sub-
divisions as were established by the state, the bishop of Kerkyra
was naturally subject to the metropolitan archbishop of Nikopo-
lis, who in turn owed obedience to the exarch of the diocese
of Eastern Illyria that is, to the archbishop of Thessalonika.

This great diocese of Eastern Illyria, to which Kerkyra be-
longed, was under the immediate jurisdiction of the pope. Dif-
ferent events may be recalled as indicative of this close rela-
tion. Thus, during the pontificate of Pope Hormisdas, the
bishops of the province of Epiros, among whom was the bishop
of Kerkyra, after having selected Bishop John to be metropoli-
tan of Nikopolis, submitted the choice to Hormisdas for his
approval. f Also in the ninth century, when separation between
Rome and Constantinopol was imminent, Kerkyra was still
rather with the West than with the East. And when the
quarrel between the followers of Ignatios and Photios disturbed
all Christendom, the bishop of Kerkyra, Michael, was, like the
pope, one of the supporters of the cause of Ignatios.

Up to the time of the conquest of Kerkyra by the mediaeval
Europeans the population of the island was of Hellenic blood,
comparatively unmixed with foreign elements. During this long
period the dignitaries who governed the church here were, as
they naturally and properly should be, Hellenes. But when
the island passed out of Byzantine dominion into Prankish
power, the successive rulers of the state took care that the
bishops should be, like themselves, Westerners. This policy
was fostered by the close relations then existing between posi-
tibns of state and ecclesiastical dignities. And for this reason
it is historically very easy to understand that the Franks, on
having come into possession of Kerkyra, should immediately
make the" episcopacy of the island a Latin one.

* Le Quien, Oriens. Christ., p. 147. f Epist. Deer. Summ. Pont., i. 451

1900.] THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN KERKYRA (CORFU). 23

This readjusting of the ecclesiastical affairs of Kerkyra to
its new political life was first introduced by Charles of Anjou,
brother of St. Louis of France. This Charles, being king of
Naples, came to Kerkyra in the year 1268. Shortly after his
arrival he disestablished the Greek episcopate.* And accord-
ingly, from 1268 down to the year 1799, the episcopal throne
of Kerkyra was occupied by a bishop of the Latin rite. Nearly
all of these bishops were Italians, and most of them were
Venetians, since the island belonged to Venice longer than to
any other Prankish power.

In the year 1/99 the French, who had taken possession of
Kerkyra immediately upon the fall of the Republic of Venice,
were compelled by the combined fleets of Russia and Turkey
to withdraw from the Ionian Islands, and a new state was es-
tablished in the Adriatic, under the name of the " Septinsular
Republic." To this new state all the Greek islands of the
Adriatic, from Kerkyra in the north to Kythera in the south,
were given. The new state was placed under Russian protec-
tion. Kerkyra was made the seat of government. One of the

CHURCH IN IPSO, NEAR THE VENETIAN HARBOR OF GOVINO.

first acts of the Greek clergy of the island .was to elect a
bishop of their own rite. They forwarded their selection to
Constantinopol for approval. Accordingly, since the year 1799

* Lunzi, Delia condizione politica delle isole lonie sotto il dontinio Veneto, Venezia, 1858,
P- 57-

24 THE CA THOLIC CHURCH IN KERKYRA (CORFU). [April,

there have been two episcopal sees in Kerkyra, one Catholic
and the other " Orthodox."

After the privilege of having a bishop had been in former
days taken away from the Greeks, they were obliged to recog-
nize a certain jurisdiction of the Latin prelate something,
perhaps, like the Protestants in Malta, who are compelled to
celebrate marriage before the Catholic parish priest, just as the
Catholics in Great Britain before the Emancipation had to
celebrate theirs before the Anglican rector, but at the same
time they were not regarded as constituting a portion of the
Catholic flock. Their ecclesiastical affairs were under the juris-
diction of an " Orthodox " priest who bore the distinguishing
title of " Prothierevs " or " Protopapas," that is, " chief priest."
Not being of episcopal rank, however, he could not ordain
other members of the clergy. For this reason all Greek priests
received holy orders in those days from some " Orthodox "
bishop outside of Kerkyra, usually from the metropolitan of
loannina, in Epiros.

During the Venetian dominion in Kerkyra the relations of
the two churches were usually friendly. This was in part re-
sult of the fact that the noble families of Kerkyra distinguished
themselves continually by their love for Venetian rule, since
the Venetian government protected them against the people.
And since these noble families directed by the weight of their
influence the affairs of their " Orthodox " Church, they natur-
ally kept the " Orthodox " clergy within the bounds of at least
outward respect for the Latin rite. But this respect could
surely be sincere after all, because these "Orthodox" Chris-
tians really differed but very little in belief and practice from
their Catholic masters. This outward respect which the Greek
clergy rendered to the dominant church took definite shape on
certain solemn occasions. For on such days as the feast of
St. Mark, the patron of Venice ; the feast of Corpus Christi,
the arrival of the bishop in the city, or the solemn entrance
of the Provedditori and other distinguished representatives of
the government, the "Orthodox" clergy were compelled to be
present, and to participate in the religious ceremonies, to walk
in the procession, and to officiate in the cathedral.*

This friendly harmony between the two /ecclesiastical bodies
naturally suffered a break from time to time. But the most
serious disturbance occurred during the episcopal reign of Arch-

* Cerimoniale che si osserva nelle occasioni delle formalita pubbliche-a MS. In the
archives of Kerkyra.

1 9oo.] THE CA r HO Lie CHURCH IN KERKYRA (CORFU}. 25

A KERKYRyEAN PEASANT.

bishop Maffei Venieri, a noble Venetian. The archbishop de-
termined to compel the "Orthodox" Christians to recognize
his jurisdiction over them in all affairs of canons and con-
science. But his intentions were hindered by the direct inter-
ference of Pope Paul IV., to whom the matter was referred
by Ludovico Rarturo, who then was protopapas of the Greek
community. The Supreme Pontiff on this occasion addressed
a rescript to the archbishop, exhorting him to abstain in future
from all oppressive measures against the Greeks.*

In general the respect which the " Orthodox " bore towards

* Marmoras, Historia di Corfu, Venezia, 1672, pp. 318-322.

26 THE CA THOLIC CHURCH IN KERK YRA (CORFU}. [April,

the Catholics was reciprocated by the Catholics. Indeed, one
or. two of the acts of condescension which the ruling church
showed to the subservient one are worthy of special notice.
Thus, for instance, in these Ionian Islands the Catholics have
always accepted the old and imperfect calendar which the
Eastern Church has so long stubbornly adhered to, instead of
following the revised and more scientific calendar of Gregory
XIII. Accordingly here in the Ionian Islands the fixed feasts
of the Catholic Church usually coincide with the same feasts
of the Greeks, and are therefore twelve days later than in
Catholic churches in other parts of the world, while the mova-
ble feasts likewise coincide with those of the Greeks, but may
happen to be weeks later than the same feasts in Europe or
America. So that the Catholic traveller who visits Kerkyra
may, after having celebrated Easter, for instance, in New York
or Paris or Rome, on his arrival here be astonished to find his
church still in the sorrows and fasts of the Lenten season.
This exceptional departure from the common calendar was
allowed by Rome in response to a request presented by the
Venetian government of Kerkyra, asking that the exception be
made. The reason offered was that since no question of belief
was involved, the calendar of the minority ought to conform
to that of the majority, so as to avoid the confusion of having
every feast celebrated twice, once by the Catholics and on a
later day by the " Orthodox." This union of the calendars
took place when Archbishop Cocco was in the episcopal see of
Kerkyra and Contarini was provedditore, Niccolo Quartano
having been sent directly to Rome with the petition.

This interchange of courtesies and services between the two
churches does not astonish the canonists ; for the respective
members of each church really regarded the others as different
in race and language rather than in belief and practice. The
Catholic Church during the entire Venetian dominion, from
1386 to 1797, freely communicated "in sacris " with the " Or-
thodox " body ; and from what has already been said, this
communication was on certain occasions official.

In Kerkyra remains of this former close fraternization still
survive. An instance is the following: In the Catholic cathe-
dral of Kerkyra are preserved certain relics or mementos of Sts^
Jason and Sosipatros. These relics are exposed to the venera-
tion of the faithful on the feast days of these saints, and on
these occasions the Catholic church is visited not only by
Catholics but also by crowds of " Orthodox." Then, when the

i QOO.] THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN KERKYRA (CORFU). 27

day comes on which these saints are honored by a feast in
the " Orthodox " churches, the Greek priests go to the Catholic
cathedral and carry the relics thence into one of their own
temples, where with Eastern liturgy they are exposed and
venerated, in the presence again not only of " Orthodox " but
also of Catholic believers. After the feast is over, the relics
are restored to the care of the clergy of the Catholic
cathedral.

Another instance of religious fraternization is afforded by
the feast of St. Spyridon. In Venetian times both churches
united in celebrating the feast of this saint. Now, however,
Catholics do not officially participate in the " Orthodox "
celebration. St. Spyridon was bishop of Tremithus, in Kypros.
Some years after his death his body was brought to Constanti-
nopol, and there it was kept until after the fall of the city, in

THE FORTEZZA VECCHIA, WHERE STOOD THE CATHEDRAL IN VENETIAN TIMES.

1453. Then it was transported to Kerkyra, where it now rests,
preserved in a gorgeous repository in a side-chapel of the
church built in his honor. Since the bringing of these relics
St. Spyridon has been the patron saint of the island. On the
occasion of the great naval battle of Lepanto, in 1571, the
banner of St. Spyridon was the distinguishing mark of the
ships of Kerkyra.

Under the Venetians it cannot be said that either church
or state did much for letters and learning in these islands. In
Kerkyra letters were only for those who needed them absolute-
ly for some profession. So to look for signs of popular edu-

28 THE CA THOLIC CHURCH IN KERKYRA (CORFU). [April,

cation would be vain labor. Of whatever learning there was,
however, the churchmen seem to have been the promoters and
leaders. We have an example from the year 1656, when about
thirty of the more educated men of the city constituted them-
selves into a literary society under the name of J:he " Accade-
mia degli Assicurati." The members of the society were
priests and physicians, together with a few other lovers of
learning ; and the first president of the society was also a
clergyman a monk of the order of St. Augustine, Gregorio
Gritti.* To the glory of Cardinal Borromeo, but to the shame
of the Kerkyrseans, it may be recorded that a number of
the splendid manuscripts which the great cardinal collected
for the Ambrosian library which he founded in Milan were
sent to him from Kerkyra.

In the year 1564 Archbishop Antonio Cocco, who then oc-
cupied the see of Kerkyra, and had sat in the Council of
Trent, determined to carry out the desire of the council re-
garding the training of men for the clerical profession. He
therefore founded and endowed an ecclesiastical seminary. This
institution continued to exist and to educate priests down to
the year 1807, when the lands from which it drew its revenues
were confiscated by the French, who had again become masters
of the Ionian Islands. Since this year of 1807 candidates for
the priesthood in the diocese of Kerkyra are prepared abroad,
chiefly at Rome in the College of the Propaganda.

The Catholic see of Kerkyra was once quite wealthy. It
possessed lands and other property from which churches and
philanthropic institutions were supported. This wealth began
with the gifts which the church received from the House of
Anjou. The first of these who came to Kerkyra, Charles,
presented to the Latin rite a number of churches, including
the cathedral, which had hitherto belonged to the Greeks.
And some years later his nephew, Philip of Anjou, gave in
perpetuity to the church all the then untilled and all the un-
inhabited lands of the island. This last gift was a large one.
But all of this wealth has disappeared. In 1807 the French
confiscated not only the seminary, as mentioned above, but
alsp .all other property of the church except the houses of
worship. The archbishop and the religious orders were sent
into exile. Later there came other misfortunes ; so that
t6-day the once opulent church of Kerkyra relies for its ex-
istence chiefly on the Propaganda and the Greek government.

* Marmoras, p. 425.

i QOO.] THE CA THOLIC CHURCH IN KERKYRA (CORFU}. 29

From this government it receives annually 1,612 in compen-
sation for the property which the French confiscated. The
Catholic Kerkyraeans themselves contribute nothing to the sup-
port of their religion, being spoiled into looking on the church
as able and bound to aid them by its charity occasionally, but
as having no claim whatsoever on their drachmae. Moreover
most of them are quite poor.

On account of these unpleasant difficulties this ancient
church is much in need of care and good management. The
present occupant of the see of this grand old Venetian pos-
session is the young and good Archbishop Antonios I. B.
Delendas. Being a man of aspirations and of youthful vigor, the
Catholics of Kerkyra may resuscitate under his charge. Mon-
seigneur Delendas is a Greek, and received his appointment in
virtue of that wise policy which prefers that bishops and priests
be not aliens in the land where they are to labor.

Of all the churches of Kerkyra the oldest and most beauti-
ful is the temple of Sts. Jason and Sosipatros in Castrades, one
of the suburbs of the city. This church belongs to the Greeks.
It is of correct Byzantine architecture, and was built about
twelve hundred years ago.

Such, then, is a brief and random sketch of the Catholic
Church in the beautiful island of Kerkyra.

SUBURB OF CASTRADES, WITH BYZANTINE CHURCH.

30 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [April,

THE SONG OF THE LORD.

A MUSICAL STORY.
" Sing ye to the Lord a new canticle : sing to the Lord all the earth " (Psalms).

BY MINNIE GILMORE.

I.
THE SONG OF THE VIRGIN.

" The voice of those that weep " (Job).

HE was only a little street-singer of the rarest
type of Italian beauty : a dusky-eyed blonde, with
a mouth as red and fresh as the bud of a pome-
granate, and cheeks a shade paler, as if only in
her lips she blushed. But her voice was as the
voice of an angel high and pure as the skylark's, plaintive as
the nightingale's, tender as a woman's who loves ; and better
than all, with the divine note in it born, not of the singing
human throat but of the soul attuned to heaven. More sur-
prising still was the song she sang she, the vagrant of New
York's midnight streets not a folk-song of her own country,
not a popular ballad, not even one of the sentimental or patri-
otic strains of the day ; but reverently as the nun sings it in her
convent-chapel, as the organ sobs out its soul in the music of
the Mass, the Virgin's strain that twin-angels must have whis-
pered to the inspired masters Bach's " First Prelude," Gounod's
melody, popularly known as " Gounod's Ave Maria."

From " Ave Maria " to " Amen " she sang it bravely ; then
the beautiful voice died away in a sob of heartache, exhaus-
tion, and hunger. The dark-faced padrone cut short the obli-
gate he was droning from his husky violin, and lifted his foot
to kick the little figure, crouching as it sobbed. There was a
shrill protest in sibilant Italian as the third of the party darted
between them a bold-eyed, coarsely handsome girl of riper years
than her companion, who had rested upon the curbstone, with
idle tambourine, as the " Ave Maria " was sung ; and then, all
smiles and bows and soft-voiced murmurings, she and the padrone
turned simultaneously toward two young men of fashion who,
standing aloof, had listened to the song. They were Jack

1 900.] THE SONG OF THE LORD. 31

Darnelle and Vandyke Courtland, dawdling from the Club
toward Delmonico's, whose lights, further down the avenue,
glimmered just in sight. It was the street-singer's face that
had arrested the dashing Darnelle's steps ; but Vandyke was a
born musician, and had stood astounded and spell-bound by the
beauty of her pure young voice. He was older than his com-
panion, but looked younger, by grace of his blond coloring ;
though it lacked the freshness of vigorous youth and health.
Darnelle was dark as a gipsy ; handsome, in a saturnine way,
but sallow even as the fairer Vandyke was pale. Both bore
the same unmistakable stamp the stamp of the man of the
world and " the pace that kills" ; but while Darnelle was simply
the worldling and nothing more, Vandyke's broad brow and
thoughtful face were of a more spiritual and intellectual type.
He was not a better man, but he had it in him to be better.
Darnelle's soul was asleep ; Vandyke's awake and restless.
Only when under the spell of his beloved music did he know
the joy of peace.

Carriages were rolling up and down the avenue, but the side-
walks were comparatively deserted, the houses curtained and
closed ; and of the occasional pedestrians passing by, with only
a careless or insolent glance at the singer, Vandyke alone had
recognized the real marvel of her voice. He had but recently
returned from a long sojourn in the land of song and sunshine,
and was therefore less surprised than Darnelle, whose ideas
were typically American, that genius and beauty should go
hand in-hand with vagrancy. Music, beauty, and religion, Van-
dyke had been wont to call the Italian trinity. It was charac-
teristic of the man that he should put music before beauty,
and religion last of all. The classification was voluntary and
deliberate, as godlessness inevitably is !

He mentioned the Italian trinity to Darnelle now, as he
approached the group ; but Darnelle, as a youth of fashion,
posed as a cynic.

" Idealize Italy, if you will, old boy," he protested, " but
do n't waste sentiment on New York pavements. Depend upon
it, the little Italian's religion is confined to the creed of the
money-changers ; her blond beauty came from the hair-dresser's,
at a dollar a bottle; and as for the lark in her throat, years
will prove it only a raven. But throw her a quarter if you
pine to encourage law-breakers. She 's open to arrest, you
know ; but the brute with her probably lacks the lira for his
oil and garlic ! By Jove ! she 's taking to tears, for our especial

32 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [April,

benefit. Look to your singing Niobe ! I prefer the smiling
Carmen with the tambourine ! "

" No, not Carmen ! Caterina ! " challenged the tambourine-
girl, kissing the silver he threw her, and jingling her tambourine
in thanks. The padrone drew back, smiling and bowing. He
would play an Italian love-song while Caterina coquetted with
the noble signers whose open overcoats disclosed their irre-
proachable evening dress. Good Caterina, who knew how to
sing with her eyes ! As for her who sang but with her voice
maledetta, praying little fool and ingrate, earning not a poor
man's salt !

Ignoring the coquettish Caterina, who pouted disdainfully
at the blond signer's slight, and called upon the stars to wit-
ness that for her no man was handsome who was not of mid-
night darkness, like the noble signor his friend, Vandyke
stooped to the little singer. As the electric glare revealed the
refined beauty of her delicate-featured face, sombrely illumed
by great dark eyes glistening with flowing tears, he uttered a
surprised exclamation, and rested his hand on her shoulder.
She trembled, and cowered pathetically. So did Marco clasp
her when he was going to beat or bruise her. Santa Maria,
save her ! She was so tired, so tired !

"Why do you weep?" Vandyke asked her in soft Italian.
"This man who ill-treats you who is he?"

" Marco," she sobbed.

" And Marco is what to you ? Your father, your brother,
your?"

She glanced up in quick surprise, standing suddenly erect,
with an air of disdain; her lips curling, her eyes flashing, as
she answered, in slightly broken English :

" Marco is the sposo of Caterina, with whom I live but one
month here. She take me from the ship. Mia madre die at
sea. I sing for the bread, the bed, till I know the America
better ! "

" How is it that you speak the language ? "

" My mother was of the American country, signor. From
her I take my hair of sun."

" And this Marco is a stranger? He has no claim upon you? "

" None, but that he take the little money of mia madre,
and keep it for me, when she die on the ship."

" Would you like to leave him and the streets for ever, to
be well housed and clothed, and trained for the stage to be-
come, perhaps, a great singer ? "

i QOO.] THE SONG OF THE LORD. 33

"Santa Maria! Such has been my prayer to the Ma-
donna!"

" Then will you come with me now, to-night ? "

"Madonna mia y but may I? I find and ask the padre to-
morrow."

" No, it must be to-night, or never. To-morrow I shall
have forgotten. I mean you no evil, little one; it is for your
music only I like your voice."

" Oh, I say, Van ! " interposed Darnelle in astonishment.

"What is your price for the freedom of this girl?" de-
manded Vandyke, in Italian, of the astounded Marco. The
jealous Caterina shrugged her shoulders, tossed her tambourine
derisively, and danced on, jingling its bells and chattering an-
grily. Che ! The singing-girl might go to evil if she liked ;
Marco could stay or follow, as he chose ; for her, she went to
them who knew a handsome girl when they saw her! She,
Caterina, to stand aside for a rival, indeed ! Marco, and the
girl from the ship, and the American signers should see !

" No, the girl was nothing to him," the bewildered Marco
was admitting, " yet never had he grudged her bread and
roof. Heaven, he knew, would reward him in good time ! As
the signor saw, she had beauty as well as voice. Of him, her
good friend Marco, many honest lovers had asked her hand in
marriage "

" What is your price?" thundered Vandyke. The man
cowered, and looked uneasily after Caterina.

" Si," he soliloquized ; " the girl from the ship had proved
but a poor bargain, making nothing of her beauty the little
fool, with her songs to the Virgin ; and running with her tales
to the padre, making trouble for a good man who was always
seen in his church when there was something to be gained.
Let her go ! His Caterina was left Caterina who could sing
enough, and knew how to smile as well, and who saved her
prayers for the Sundays. But yes, he would do it. The noble
signor was rich and would be generous. And if the singing
fool came to evil was her good friend Marco to blame ? "

" If the girl desires to go," he smiled, " Marco trusts to the
generosity of the noble signor ! Si, but he takes the voice that
is the poor man's bread ; and she owes already a year and
more of living."

Vandyke contemptuously tossed him a bill. "She has been
with you one month," he said, " and her dead mother's money,
not to speak of her earnings, have paid you a thousand times
VOL. LXXI. 3

34 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [April,

over. You are open to arrest as a thief, padrone, and vagrant.
If she or I ever see or hear from you again, I shall send
you to prison. Understand that I mean what I say. Va /
Begone ! "

The bill was a large one, and the dazed Marco clutched it
greedily as he slouched after Caterina, muttering bewildered
maledictions as he went. " Might the girl's voice die in her
throat, and her beauty wither ! Might she sink a knife in
the heart of the pale-faced signer ! Might the signor's gold
take flight on wings ! Might he love and lose, and his life be
blighted ! "

As the girl crossed herself and prayed to the Madonna
against the Evil Eye, Vandyke led the way round the corner
into the seclusion of the side street. Then, halting with an
embarrassed laugh, he slipped both hands in his pockets, and
turned his blue eyes upon Darnelle with a boyish look of quiz-
zical appeal.

"And now that I have snared my song-bird," he demanded,
" what the deuce and dickens, Jack, am I to do with her ? "

Darnelle lighted a cigarette.

" If you take my advice, dear boy," he said, " you '11 send
her trotting after her macaroni as fast as her feet can carry
her. I wash my hands of the affair. That last bottle at the
club must have been heady."

In answer Vandyke hailed a passing carriage.

" I '11 take her to my mother," he said, as he motioned the girl
into it. "Jump in, Darnelle; you must see this thing through,
for the girl's sake."

Darnelle dropped his cigarette in dazed incredulity. He
was not of fine moral fibre, and had but small sympathy with
the scruples of chivalry. As he found himself rolling up the
avenue by Vandyke's side, with the street-singer for his vis-h-
vis, an irrepressible smile of intense amusement irradiated his
face.

" I should think," he said to Vandyke, tossing back the lapel
of his open overcoat, that his boutonniere might not be crushed,
"I should think that Mrs. Courtland would be enraptured to
receive your protegee"

His satire had its justification. He, knew Mrs. Courtland
well, very well, for he was one of her younger favorites. She
was a social queen, not a woman ; a soulless, heartless autocrat
in the courts of Mammon.

"Oh, mother's all right!" said Vandyke, easily. He un-

1900.] THE SONG OF THE LORD. 35

derstood his mother. She would stand by him not in love,
but in pride ; not in sympathy, but to avert a scandal.

Descending before a brilliantly lighted mansion, on an up-
town corner of the avenue, Vandyke escorted his companions
through the empty drawing-rooms into an artistic music room,
and then hastened upstairs to his mother's dressing-room, to
which he was told she had but just ascended. Darnelle, left
alone with the heroine of the evening's adventure, proceeded
to scrutinize her more critically than opportunity had yet per-
mitted.

Her short gown which made her appear much smaller than
she was, her clumsy blouse, the gaudy cap which disfigured
her golden head, could not conceal her really startling beauty
the beauty not of a child, as he now discovered, but of a
well-grown girl. Her eyes were like lustrous stars drowned in
midnight-waters; her natural golden hair was in beautiful con-
trast to her dark brows and lashes ; and her oval face was re-
fined and chaste in feature, and expressive both of intelligence
and soul.

" Why, you 're a real little beauty," he exclaimed impulsive-
ly. "But you're not as fly as the jealous Caterina, eh?"

" Caterina is good ! I love Caterina," she asserted, with an
indignant flash of her eyes.

" Happy Caterina ! " he laughed, approaching her.

With a disdainful shrug of her shoulders she turned her
back upon him, sinking wearily upon a tabouret in the far
corner. She had not sung in the streets without knowing
men's insolence ; but she had no charity for it, no response
such as Caterina smiled even while she muttered bad things
sotto voce ; no, not she! Her dear dead madre, and the good
curato to whom she had confessed before she sailed on the fatal
ship, had told her to smile on no man save him who asked
her in marriage before the altar in the church and from the
friends of Marco, some of whom indeed had asked her even
so, she had shrunk in fierce distaste. As for the dark signer
who smiled and smiled, che, she hated him ! It was a sin to
hate yes, she would confess it to the padre ; but perchance to
hate was less wicked than to love when one was not asked
in marriage.

The portieres parted and Mrs. Courtland swept in a regal
figure in trailing velvet, her loosened cloak disclosing her
Junoesque throat and arms. She wore a diamond tiara, and over
her bodice, glittering with jewels, fell a double rope of pearls,

36 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [April,

reaching nearly to the floor. She had driven home but for a
moment on her way frorn dinner to ball.

Darnelle bowed to the ground. To be one of the beautiful
and proud Mrs. Courtland's favorites was but to owe her more
distinguished homage. Darnelle knew his world.

She acknowledged his presence only by a glance ; then
lifted her lorgnette, and silently scrutinized the street-singer
through unnecessary lenses. With national grace the girl had
risen upon her entrance and courtesied respectfully. But as
the pitiless inspection continued she look distressed and resent-
ful, and instinctively swayed toward Courtland, who took her
hand reassuringly.

" This is my little protegee, mother," he said. " You see I
have not idealized her."

Mrs. Courtland relinquished her lorgnette.

" Mr. Darnelle," she said, ignoring the others, " when a
mother refuses to be the scapegoat of a spoiled son's caprices,
another woman invariably takes her place. Until my son
marries I prefer the other woman to remain in the background.
Kindly ring the bell for my maid, who will see that this young
person is safely sheltered for the night. For to-morrow I
promise nothing. Sufficient for the night is the folly thereof.
Yes, James, I rang. Send Marie to me here. And oh, by
the way, to Marie's room, at once, a substantial supper for
one!"

"Good little mother," laughed Vandyke, lifting her hand to
his lips. " Now you shall have your reward. Your eyes have
seen me justified now your ears shall corroborate them.
Little one, sing ! "

"The young person has no name," remarked Mrs. Courtland
to the ceiling.

" My name is Maria Bianca Mazetti, signora," answered the
young person with proud composure. *' Mia madre's name was
Blanche. She, like the noble signora " Mrs. Courtland re-
sumed her lorgnette " was of the American country. My
father was of the opera a brother to one of the nuns in the
convent that had been mia madre's home. She was what you
call the orphan, and had pray to become a nun, till my father
ask her in marriage. But in Italy he die, and mia madre think
to make much money in the American country, while her nuns
teach me from the books, before she take me back to Italy,
for to "make the great singer. But she die of the broken
heart ; and Marco, on the ship, he take from me her money,

1900.] THE SONG OF THE LORD. 37

and tell to all that I go to his Caterina ; and when we land
Caterina kiss me, and cry the tears, and take me v to sing with
her on the American streets. But the good church-padre, when
I go to confession, he like not the street-singing, and speak to
Marco ; so Marco take Caterina and me far off ! I run away
to find again the padre, but I know not where the church ; and
Marco find and beat me. Marco is bad^man, but Caterina is
good. When I am the great singer, then will I send much
money to Caterina ! "

Vandyke had seated himself at the piano. Striking a few
soft chords by way of prelude, he glided into the " Ave Maria."
He had the touch of an artist and the passion of genius. If
wealth had not warped him, .he would have been a great
musician. As it was, he was only a talented amateur a
musical dilettante.

" Sing, my Bianca, sing ! " he whispered, as the obligate
ended.

As she had never sung it before, as perhaps she would
never sing it again, Bianca sang her favorite hymn to the Vir-
gin. It was a song of faith and love and gratitude and ecstasy
unutterable. Had the dear Madonna not heard her prayers,
and rescued her from the cruel Marco and the crueller streets,
and sent the dear pale signor, like a beautiful white angel, to
befriend her? Had he not called her his Bianca, his with the
tender " mia " she had not heard since the waters closed over
the one last creature who loved her? If a sob broke her
voice, it was a sob of rapture as well as of heartache, and but
gave to her song more thrilling fervor, more pathetic sweet-
ness, more passionate devotion. As the golden notes swelled
and sank, tremulous indeed with her youth and faulty phras-
ing, with her excitement and fatigue, and the faintness of long
hunger, yet pure and clear and beautiful with the divine key-
note which is the rarest of all heaven's gifts to man, Darnelle
listened in wide-eyed amazement, and the haughtiness of Mrs.
Courtland's face relaxed into an expression of virtual relief.
As the song ended her maid entered.

"Marie," she said in a gracious though somewhat mocking
voice, " I entrust to your care for to-night a prima donna from
Little Italy. The housekeeper will relieve you of personal
charge, but you will see that my orders are carried out bath,
supper, bed, and in the morning let the wardrobe of one of
the younger maids be drawn upon. Nothing worn at present
is to be retained; nothing!"

38 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [April

"Nothing, madim," assured the maid, gesturing to Bianca

But Bianca clutched her blouse in affright.

44 But my scapulaire, my beads, my mother's picture all
these must I keep and wear! "she cried excitedly.

Vandyke extended his open hand.

" Little Bianca," he said, " the scapular, the beads, your
mother's picture shall be left you, yes."

Then she followed Marie from the room.

Mrs. Courtland toyed thoughtfully with her lorgnette for
an instant. Then she lifted her proud, cold eyes to her son.

"The first act of the comedy is ended," she said, "Keep it
a comedy, my son, lest the world laugh at, rather than with
you ! "

" Mother is right," Vandyke said to Darnelle, when she
had left them. " Love is a tragedy to every woman. Jack,
say good-by to me ; I'll be off on another of my cruises in
the morning. The second act of the little singer's comedy
shall be played without me."

44 And the third act?" queried Darnelle, significantly.

Vandyke laughed, pulling his blond moustache. 4< Come
along to my rooms and take the boys off my hands," he
pleaded. *' I'm not in the mood for a night of it. The third
act ? Who knows if there be one ? Better to end with the
second. The third act of the Human Comedy is inevitably
tragic. It has choice of only two curtains Love, and Death!"

II.

THE SONG OF LOVE,

" The voice of my beloved knocking " (Canticle).

The final rehearsal was over. To-morrow would be Bian-
ca's twentieth birthday; and on its evening she was to make
her operatic debut in Milan the musical centre of Italy
as Marguerite in " Faust." For seven years she had not
once seen the pale American signor, to whom she owed not
only her operatic training, but also the happy convent years
that had prefaced it. But her memory of him, his benefi-
cence, his picture, and his letters had made him the dream and
ideal of. her life. To-morrow she would begin to repay him ;
but to-night, when she was at last to meet him again, she was
still his prote'gee and debtor. The thought had no bitterness

i QOO.] THE SONG OF THE LORD. 39

for her, however ; for love excludes pride, and Bianca loved
her benefactor with a love that was all of heaven.

Bianca was beautiful in soul as well as in body. From her
father she had inherited her musical genius; but all the purity,
the exaltation, the devotion of the child of the convent and
prospective novice, had been her heritage from her mother;
and as music is the divine art, so the parental inheritances did
not conflict in her soul, but blended to make her the ideal
young virgin she was. Her years with the French nuns had
not changed, they had only developed her. In spite of the
streets, in spite of Marco and his wicked kind, she had gone
to the nuns as unsullied as one of their niched white statues.
On the streets she had sung her songs to the Virgin ; between
the songs she had told her beads, with her thoughts on her
own mother, dead in the sea, and on the Madonna who
guarded the motherless. Then the pale signor had appeared
like a beautiful white angel, in answer to her prayers ; and
that was all her innocent story! She had never seen him
again the beautiful pale signor. Even the next morning the
haughty signora, his mother, had told her that he had gone to
the end of the world, but had left orders concerning her which
it was her duty of gratitude as well as to her own vital inter-
est to obey ; and less than a week later she had sailed for
France, where for three happy years she had lived with the
dear, kind nuns ; loving the chapel and the music room better
than the study and class-rooms indeed, but faithful to her
books because the pale signor wished it. Then \he signer's
proud mother had come and taken her to Italy to a great
musician in whose house, outside of Milan, she had become as
a beloved daughter. For four long years, now, he had taught
her the operas in which at last she was to make her profes-
sional appearance. For a prima donna on the verge of her
dtbut her thoughts were very simple as she waited for the
signor; but such is the divine grace of religion, and such, in
lesser degree, the human grace of art. Religion is the soul's
passion genius, the intellect's. Where these reign supreme
the spirit triumphs.

Vandyke would have preferred that the maestro 's buxom
spouse permit him to see Bianca alone. But the good Italian
signora had conscientiously guarded her charge from inde-
pendent American ways, and had no intention of not being
faithful to the end. To-morrow the little Bianca would be a
great singer had the maestro her husband not said it? -and

40 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [April,

all the moths in gallant Italy would be fluttering in her flame!
But to-morrow had dawned not yet ; and to-night Bianca was
still the cloistered vestal who had received the Host at the
early Mass, and heard a second Mass in thanksgiving ; then
studied her roles all day; and stolen at dusk, now into the
great Duomo, now to some humble wayside shrine, to say her
vesper-beads to the Madonna ; going to sleep with the birds,
indeed, that she might waken with them, to swell their songful
matins.

In seven years of such simple life Bianca had changed only
as the rose changes, bursting from bud to blossom. In the
woman the child still survived. Her bright golden hair, her
lustrous dark eyes with their dusky brows and lashes, her
straight, slender, sensitive little nose, her pouting red lips, her
oval face with its faint bloom and beautiful fresh skin, her
lithe grace like that of the Italian rushes swaying by the river
all were as Vandyke remembered them ; but her eyes were
deeper and graver, her mouth at once more chastened yet
more impassioned, her vivid expression more intellectual and
refined, and the half grown girl matured to a tall, well poised,
magnificently formed young woman.

But even as she had changed for the better, Vandyke had
changed for the worse. His pallor was more pallid, his ex-
pression less happy, and he looked somewhat worn and lan-
guid, though suggesting utter weariness of spirit rather than
physical delicacy. In truth, the man was unhappy as only
that man is who lives in daily defiance of the call of God
within him. In his soul he had faced for years both the divine
proposition of God's existence, and its inevitable corollary
the existence of God's one true church on earth. Toward
that one true church his trained intellect no less than his
called soul had long impelled him; but the world and the
flesh had become his ruthless masters, and his immortal spirit
was in their carnal thrall. He was a man of spiritual as well
as social honor ; therefore for him to acknowledge God would
have been to enlist in the divine service, and from the heroic
sacrifice involved his weak flesh shuddered though his mind
and soul never ceased to urge him on. Small wonder that his
face was haggard, his eyes weary! The spectres of Death and
Eternity are awful visitants to the souls that see them untrans-
figured by the supernal rays that shine from the Cross of
Christ.

As he met Bianca's eyes, however, Vandyke brightened

i goo.] THE SONG OF THE LORD. 41

into a transient semblance of his younger self, even as she re-
membered him. A subtle aura of divine peace seemed to
emanate from her presence. He felt, as he looked at her,
that to his struggling spirit a truce was granted its flag the
heavenward flutter of her pure soul's white wings.

" My pale signer ! " she cried impetuously, kissing his hand
as she had kissed it once before. It was the title by which
she had dreamed of him, and involuntarily it escaped her.

He smiled at the signora's reproving shake of her head, and
courteously reciprocated the salute.

" So this is Bianca," he said ; " the little Bianca of seven
years since grown up ! This time to-morrow night the great
singer will belong to the world. For this one last evening /
claim all her attention. The good signora will permit us these
seats by the window? We have seven long years to talk
over."

"Why did you not come before? " she asked him.

"Why?" he repeated. He was wondering how much or
how little he might tell her. Her beauty, her simplicity, were
alike supremely delightful to him. His moral as well as his
artistic nature was satisfied, which was a rare coincidence in
the man of the world's experience. Although they had met
but once, she was no stranger to him. Nay, he came as a
friend who knew her inmost heart a friend, and perchance
something more ! Had not her soul revealed itself to him
eyen at first, through her voice? Had not her heart become
his open book, through her letters ? Now that the sight of her
beauty, the response of her eyes, the caress of her hand, per-
fected his knowledge of her, what was lacking of consummate
revelation, pregnant with inevitable love? His heart had long
known that in truth he already loved her. Even from the first
he had loved her genius and beauty ; and year by year a
deeper lov,e had grown within him, as her own letters and the
reports of her guardians had convinced him of her pure heart
and simple soul. Why had he not yielded to love, and antici-
pated this meeting ? Who or what, for seven long years, had
made her whom both his soul and heart desired as sacred
and forbidden fruit? No man, no woman, no social obliga-
gation ; for what cared Soc-iety for a waif like Bianca ? No,
only a divine instinct within him, which he had chosen to obey
that was all! But now that the barriers were down at last
and his probation ended, all the repressed emotion of years
surged up to tempt him. Why should her life be still a

42 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [April,

comedy? She was born for the tragedy of love. Why should
she be spared its heartache, the fate of all fair women ? And
even though he still spared her, others would not. . To morrow
the hearts of many men would be at her mercy ; but should
he choose to speak before them, well he knew that all future
lovers must be to her but as phantoms that were not !

" I did not come before," he answered slowly in English,
that the signora might not understand " because I knew that
when I came the inevitable must happen. My Bianca, you are
beautiful, gifted, and a woman. I am a man and free to
marry. When such meet, what results?"

"What?" she asked him, innocently.

" Love, my Bianca; the love of the poets, of the romancers,
the love of your songs and your operas; better still, of the
human men and maids you see about you. Love is the motor
of life ; it is the axis of the world, the pulse of humanity, the
joy and sorrow, the blessing and curse of every man and wo-
man who lives to maturity. The maestro says you will be a
great singer, but you cannot be a great singer till you have
loved. In love are strength and tenderness, purity and passion,
tears and laughter, knowledge and power, the human key-note
that thrills all earth, and the echo of the only strain men re-
tain from heaven. Have you, then, yet loved, my Bianca?"

" I have loved the Christ in the Host, and the Madonna of the
skies, and the memory of my mother. I have loved the song
in my soul, and its echo in my voice, and the chords of the
organ, and the strains of the orchestra. All these I have
loved with a joy that is pain, and a pain that is sweeter than
peace. Ah, yes, my signor, I have loved ! "

"And nothing, no one else, my BUnca?" he pressed, piti-
lessly. "No dream, no ideal, no memory, no creature?"

" But yes, my signor," she answered bravely. " Have 1
not, too, loved you ? "

"I do not know," he smiled. "Tell me, carina ! "

" I have remembered you always," she trembled ; " thanked
you always, prayed for you always. It is for you that I have
studied, to you that I have sung. You have seemed to walk
beside me, your face to be before me always. All others have
passed like shadows; you alone have bedn real as myself. I
have never known loneliness, for you have seemed always with
me. I have wearied quickly of others, because I longed to be
with you" alone. Your silence has been sweeter than speech,
and your letters like unsung music. When men have smiled

1900.] THE SONG OF THE LORD. 43

upon me, I have felt a hurt and sorrow, as if they profaned
some holy thing that I held in trust for you. In my thoughts,
in my dreams, in my prayers, you have been always l my
beautiful pale signor ' ! It is my heart's name for you ! I can
give you no other. Is that love, my signor?"

" Yes, that is love," he smiled, with uttermost tenderness.
"Tell me more, Bianca."

" You are not angry, my signor, that I should love you ? "
she pleaded. " The padre has said it is good to love one's
benefactor; so I have felt it no wrong, no sin. Sin comes be
tween us and Gad, and darkens the heavens, and puts the
Madonna further from us ; but my love for you has seemed to
bring heaven nearer, and impelled me always to pray to pray
for you ! To talk to men of this and that has been nothing.
To pray to Gesu and the Madonna for you and your soul has
been all. I know not why it is, my signor, but always the
tears come when I pray for you. It is as if you were in the
pain and sorrow, and cried to Bianca to save you. Is it so,
my signor? Have you the secret cross or trouble? Take it
to the padre. He will help you. When one confesses, then,
though the cross remain, there is no more sorrow, but only
sad sweet peace ! "

" But you know," he said impatiently, "that I am what you
call a heretic. There is no padre, no confession for me ! "

"No? Then what is there for you?" she asked him,
pityingly.

He threw out his hands with a weary gesture.

" Nothing," he sighed ; " I acknowledge it, nothing."

" And the dear Christ came to live and die for you, only
to leave you nothing ? "

He hesitated for a moment, then laughed mirthlessly.

" That 's a poser, little zealot," he said, " but to argue re-
ligion with a man of the world is always hopeless. Your darts
may be aimed surely, but they always rebound, for they strike
only against the stone-wall of indifference and rejection
wilful and deliberate indifference and rejection, if you like."

She ignored the admission that his words implied. Perhaps
she did not recognize it.

"What is a man of the world, my signor?" she asked
him. t

" A man of the world, Bianca, is a man who ignores reli-
gion, professing no creed save * Eat, drink, and be merry, for
to-morrow we die ! ' His god is gold, his heaven the flesh, his

44 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [April,

ideals the adulation of the world, the beauty of woman, and
the indulgence of the mortal senses. Of the soul he knows
nothing, of the heart he thinks lightly. Sometimes he deifies
the mind, and lives on an intellectual plane ; but more often
his entire life is devoted to the luxuries and delights of the
body. As he lives without God, so he most often dies with-
out him ; and when he is dead, men bury him in the ground,
and forget him. It is a short life, my Bianca ; just a little
human span, with no hope, no suggestion, no sweetest pro-
mise of immortality about it ; a short life, but a merry one.
To live, and love, and laugh, and die it is enough ! "

" But you do not look merry," she said. " The little chil-
dren at play, the dear nuns at recreation, the good old padre
when he cheers the sick with his stories and the sad with
his jests these are merry, but not you ! Your face is pale,
and your eyes are weary. You are not merry, my signer,
but no! "

He held out his hands to her.

" Then make me merry, my Bianca," he said. " Sometimes
it chances that a man of the world loses his hold on joy ; and
then only a woman, a good woman like you, can cheer him.
The world, the flesh do not always satisfy I acknowledge it
to you. The mystical thing we call the soul hungers, but the
man of the world lacks the food wherewith to satisfy it. Then
he turns to the one woman for there comes only one such to
each man's life, Bianca, to whom God is real, and heaven near,
and the soul immortal, and life a chaste, exalted, consecrated
thing and he says to her, * Be my wife?* Her 'Yes' may
gain his soul ; her ' No ' surely loses it. Is it yes or no with
you, Bianca? "

" Be your wife ? " she echoed. " You are asking me, Bianca,
in marriage ? Ah, my signer, I am not worthy ! "

He smiled, well satisfied.

" It is I who am not worthy," he said, " as your priests
and all the rest will tell you ; but you know me better than
they, Bianca, and must judge between us for yourself. Ah,
my love, you think it sudden ; but, rather, have I not always
meant it? When I heard your voice and saw your beauty even
on that first night I said to myself that the end, perhaps, would
be as it is now ! Why did I shrine your soul in the purity of
the convent but to keep it white for me ? Why have I fos-
tered your genius and beauty save for our mutual happiness,
when you shall be my wife ? Why have I written you reams

1900.] THE SONG OF THE LORD. 45

of letters, revealing my own life and inviting the revelation of
yours in return, but that our hearts might commune even in
absence, know each other even though strangers, recognize
each other, after long parting, as affinities that part no more?
I have bided my time because it is better for you as well
as for me that " I marry the famous artist rather than the
obscure woman. Make your debut to-morrow night, win Fame's
laurels for a season, and then the roses of Love shall crown
you, and my wife shall sing for me alone. The " Ave Maria "
do you remember it, Bianca? It shall be our love-song.
I have not heard the golden voice yet. Sing it, my love, my
wife ! "

The signora had been peacefully dozing in her corner, the
unknown language acting upon her like a monotonous lullaby.
She roused herself with a start as Bianca passed to the piano,
her fingers playing the obligate as one plays in a dream. Then,
dreaming still, her voice lifted ; and she sang ah, how she
sang ! The signora wept in her chair, and thought of angels.
Outside the maestro sobbed, and cried out that her voice was
of heaven ! And who shall say that it was not? for love is of
heaven till earth has soiled it ; and it was love that sang
through Bianca love the pure, love the holy, love the beauti-
ful ; love, the divine dove shrined in the heart's human chalice.
As he listened, why did Vandyke hear no longer the song of
the woman he loved, but rather the Voice of the God he had
failed, arraigning his soul, yet alluring his heart till grace could
be no longer rejected ? All his life he had resisted God's grace ;
why, of a sudden, was his soul impelled to respond to it ? Ah !
he had revered the innocent, befriended the orphan, and spared
the helpless. Was it not thus that God rewarded him, even as
the grateful Madonna herself made intercession for the bene-
factor of her child ?

" / believe ! " cried his soul. " Help my unbelief."
But to Bianca he said only that she sang like an angel.
She smiled at the words, as the signer's compliment ; but he
knew that he spoke truly. " Aggelos, messenger," Greek de-
fines it. In truth, Bianca's " Ave Maria " had been God's
messenger of faith.

46 THE STORY OF THE PASSION [April,

THE STORY OF THE PASSION AS TOLD IN THE
CHURCH'S HYMNS.

BY E. LYELL EARLE.

HERE is one source of spiritual truth and con-
solation which we fear is not fully understood
and enjoyed by many of the faithful: the
Hymns of the Church.

To the priest who recites his daily office,
following the changes of the liturgical year, these hymns are a
great fountain of spiritual instruction and joy. But few of the
laity make a study of the beauty and doctrine hidden in these
venerable poems, born of inspired sanctity.

By far, however, the most touching of the church's hymns
are those of the Passion. There the widowed Spouse of the
crucified God calls on all her orphaned children to read in the
blood dyed book of the Cross the story of the Saviour's love
for men.

Beginning with the feast of the Passion, which is always
commemorated on the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday, she
unfolds weekly the Tragedy of the Passion, from the Love
Feast in Jerusalem to the expiring cry of the Master on Gol-
gotha.

Various translations of the Passion hymns may be found.
These we give from the original Latin, hoping they may con-
vey some little at least of their unction and pathos.

On the solemn commemoration of the Passion the church
gives, prologue-like, the story of the Passion in general view :

Fixed on the cursed tree of sin
The Saviour hangs in racking pain.

Each torment dread, each sorrow fell,
His tortured soul must now sustain.

With horrid wounds the gory nails
His sacred hands and feet shall bore,

While life's bright streams shall lavish flow
From heart and brow and every pore.

1900.]

AS TOLD IN THE CHURCH'S HYMNS.

48 THE STORY OF THE PASSION [April,

Hark, hear the Son's sad cry of death !

The Mother's heart is rent atwain.
O Jesus! Mary! may our souls

Be pierced with love-begotten pain.

The seas, the mighty deeps, are stirred ;

The hallowed dead forsake the tomb ;
The temple's mystic veil is rent ;

The earth is sunk in nether gloom ;

Sun, moon, and stars, all heaven weeps ;

The earth doth groan in mighty throes;
Come old and young, come all who love,

And weep for Jesus' bitter woes.

Come, stand we sorrowing by the cross ;

Anoint in love those wounded feet ;
With Magdalen bathe them in heart-tears,

And kiss them dry with homage meet.

O Sacrificial Victim high !

That we might share redemption's grace,
Consummate now thy saving work,

Among thy ransomed give us place.

Sweet Jesus, be our peace, our joy!

Our hope shall ever rest in thee ;
Be thou our guide through life's sad course,

Our crown and glory endlessly.

On the following Friday, the first in Lent, the Agony in
the Garden is commemorated.

Taking our departure from the City of Jerusalem, we make
our exit by St. Stephen's Gate. It is nearest to the Mount
of Olives, and from its massive doorway Gethsemani can be
plainly seen. The path first leads us down the steep incline
of Mount Moriah, and then over the stone bridge which spans
the Cedron Valley. There are three pathways, one leading
through the village near by, the other over the heights of
Mount Olivet, the third to the dark, silent Garden of Geth-
semani. Let us follow this. We soon come to an enclosure
within which wormwood and passion vines trail the sombre
massive olive-trees, that cast their chilling shadows like giant
spectres^ along the ground. High above us, on either side, is a
mountain. On the right towers Jerusalem, a living city ; on

i goo.] AS TOLD IN THE CHURCH'S HYMNS. 4c

the left, the great Jewish cemetery, a city of the dead. The
trees round about us are venerable in their antiquity, cankered
and furrowed and gnarled by age, yet sadly impressive in their
grandeur. The paschal moon is struggling with the fitful clouds
overhead, ever and anon lighting up the sombre passes of the
Garden of Olives. As we gaze one of these beams illumines
the grove, and beneath a massive, solemn olive-tree we behold
a form lying prostrate on the earth. And even as we stand
in astonishment, a frightful struggle seems to be going on
within him ! He half rises from the ground, clasps his hands
in agony, falls prostrate again, while on the silent air sounds
the heart-rung cry, " Father, if it be possible, let this chalice
pass!" Then all was still again, seemingly but for a moment,
while the struggle went on with increased intensity, when from
the stricken form was heard: "Yet, Father, not my will but
thine be done ! "

What had taken place in the interval of these two prayers ?
The church tells us in the hymn for the office of the Agony
in the Garden :

Mark how the Word eterne came from the Father's throne,

Burning with deepest love man to redeem ;
For the first Adam's sin, with its fell brood of death,

Fain would love's victim be, priceless, supreme.

Deep was his spirit stirred at such all-saddening doom ;

Longed he our bitter loss full to repair.
Now bows he to the earth ; for our guilt-laden souls

Seeks Heaven's pardon through his reverent prayer.

Lo ! see sin's torrents foul sweep o'er his spotless soul !

Must he drink sorrow's cup ere grace be won ?
"Lord, may this chalice pass!" breaks from his stricken heart;

" Yet, Father, let thy will, not mine, be done ! "

Mighty that effort was, piercing his inmost heart,
As pain and grief and sin made their mad claim ;

Sad sank he to the earth ; forth from each sacred pore
Life's ruddy drops in racking anguish came.

Forth from the hosts at Heaven's word a seraph high,
Speaking the Father's cheer in love's sweet voice ;

And at this soothing note uprose the stricken Lord,
Godlike e'ermore in love's unchanging choice.

VOL. LXXI. 4

So THE STORY OF THE PASSION L A P ril

Praise to the Father be, and the all-saving Son,
Whose name supreme hath made us sinners free;

And to the Spirit, the all-sanctifying one,
Be honor, power, and glory endlessly !

The second scene in the Tragedy opens. It is the crown-
ing with thorns.

Judas has completed his work of treason. The mob have
seized and bound Christ, and are leading him away to the
high-priest. With jibe and jest and ruthless blow they urge
the Saviour on to Jerusalem till they reach the house of An-
nas. The counsellors of the nation assemble. Christ is ar-
raigned before them. The mock trial goes on ; the false
witnesses testify; and all this not sufficing, the unscrupulous
Caiphas takes the judgment seat and soon the august Prisoner
is deemed worthy of death. At morn he is hurried to Pilate
to have the ecclesiastical sentence ratified by the civil power.

Yielding to the clamors of the Jews, Pilate condemned
Jesus to the crowning and scourging. Listen to the agonizing
cry of the Spouse at the awful sight :

Go forth, O Sion's daughters fair !

Go forth, chaste virgins of the King !
Mark maddened Salem crown the Christ ;

Mark Salem's sons mock homage bring.

O horror ! see the rending thorns !

The Saviour's locks are thick with gore ;
Death bids him on, while down his face

Life's crimson stream doth silent pour.

What soil unfruitful gave ye birth,

Ye bristling thorns, sharp brood of sin ?

Who sowed ye, saddest seed of earth ?
What cruel hand hath reaped ye in ?

Yet, tinged by Jesus' hallowed blood,
Ye turned to ruddy rose arid rare ;

Your stem accursed bears blessed fruit ;
Blight thence becometh blossom fair.

Alack ! 'twas plaited crimes of men

That made thee, Christ, -such crown to bear.
- Weed thou our hearts from thorns of sin ;
Sow seeds of fairest roses there.

1900.]

AS TOLD IN THE CHURCH' s HYMNS.

52 THE STORY OF THE PASSION [April,

Be power and glory, praise divine,

Eternal Father, unto thee,
With Son and Spirit, three in one,

Through endless ages endlessly !

Christ has been scourged and crowned with thorns. Pilate
has led him before the enraged populace, and we can hear
the frantic cries of rejection: "Away with him, away with
him ! Crucify him, crucify him ! His blood be upon us and
upon our children ! "

The weak and vacillating governor yields. Christ submits
in silence ; the people and high-priests are wild with de-
light. The cross is prepared, the procession formed, and the
Saviour, already weak and agonizing, begins the journey up
Calvary, making the first " Stations of the Cross."

On he struggles, 'mid insult and derision, the mob the while
howling like wild beasts hounding down their prey. His mo-
ther, Mary, is there. She meets him as he toils onward 'neath
the cross. Thrice he falls under its weight, and thrice he rises
amid the blows and goadings of his merciless enemies. They
have reached the top, and the last act of the tragedy of the
Crucifixion is begun.

The Saviour is stripped of his garments, stretched on the
wood of the cross ; the nails are driven through his hands
and feet; the cross is raised and dropped into the hole pre-
pared to receive it ; and the last agony of the Saviour begins
amid the wild shouts of the Jews.

It is here the church introduces her hymn to the Lance
and Nails, in almost an exultant tone, as we come nearer the
hour of redemption :

Hail, blessed lance ! hail, saving nails !

Though erstwhile served ye purpose low,
Now, dyed in Jesus' sacred blood,

Ye ruddy beam with sapphire glow.

Vain Israel's sons in hatred deep

Would choose ye for their fellest crime ;

Yet God with mighty power hath made
Ye ministers of grace sublime.

From every hallowed wound ye bored

A stream of life celestial ran,
That ever beareth from on high

The choicest gifts Christ brought to man.

1900.] AS TOLD IN THE CHURCH'S HYMNS.

v :

54 IHE STORY OF THE PASSION [April,

On my dull heart, Lord, turn that spear,
All crimsoned in thy precious blood ;

With these same nails pierce hands and feet,
And fix me to thy holy rood.

O may thy all-atoning wounds,

Which guilty we for sin should bear,

Prove strength and solace to our souls,
That in thy victory we may share.

Keep thou my hands from evil deeds,
My wayward feet from paths of sin.

Pierce thou my heart with love's pure dart
That all life's aim be grace to win.

Pierced with life-giving lance and nails,

By glory, Jesus, unto thee,
With Father, Spirit, three in one,

Through endless ages endlessly.

Slowly a strange gloon settles over the Mount of Death.
The actors in the awful tragedy have all taken up their posi-
tions. Clasping the feet of Christ is the Magdalene, her
beautiful hair drooping around her, the precious blood of Jesus
dyeing it, as drop by drop it falls upon her penitent head.
At the right stand Mary and John. Near by are the execu-
tioners, Roman soldiers and the high-priest, while all around
the mount the Jewish rabble are crowded, watching the scene
of death. For three long hours the agony goes on. The
atonement is made to its fullest. Christ cries out, " It is
consummated,*' and gives up the ghost. Reverently the devout
women prepare him for the sepulchre. The Holy Winding
Sheet is wrapped about him, and he is borne silently to his
hopeful tomb.

At this stage the church stops again, and sings in beautiful
numbers of " The Holy Shroud ":

Sweetest Jesus, love consuming,

Stricken turns my soul to thee,
Each life-wound in love adoring,

Mindful they did bleed for me.

O how naked I behold thee
In thy lowly winding sheet,

1900.] AS TOLD IN THE CHURCH'S HYMNS. 5$

Rent and racked in every member,
Wounded, heart and hands and feet !

Hail, thou thorn-crowned head encrimsoned !

Reft of all its grace benign
Is that face, 'fore which hosts tremble,

Awed by majesty divine!

Hail, O heart transfixed for sinners,
Hallowed cleft for flight of love,

Fairer far than fairest bower,
Spirit's pledge of rest above !

Hands and feet by blunt nails riven,

I adore each wound divine ;
Turn me not away, O Jesus;

Bid me evermore be thine.

Grant, most gracious Father, mercy
Through the Son who made us free,

With the Spirit, love supernal,
Through the ages endlessly.

Already night had settled over the Mount of Death. The
stillness of the grave reigns supreme. Slowly down the sides
of Golgotha the holy women make their way, supported by
St. John and Joseph of Arimathea. Our Lady, Mary of Cleo-
phas, and the Magdalene are there. Along the Cedron Valley
they pass in solemn and sorrowful silence ; and on through
the old deserted Potter's Field, where here and there a soli-
tary tree is still standing. Suddenly the moon gleams out from
behind a cloud, lighting up the field, and the little party stop
in horror at the sight before their eyes. There hanging by the
neck from one of the trees they see the body of a man, and
as the moon lights up his face they recognize the features of
Judas the traitor !

On they go to wait in silent hope the hour of the Resur-
rection, which they know will come to every one who, unlike
Judas, shall join the holy band of the faithful and trust in the
Passion of the Saviour.

We cannot conclude our article better than by the sweet
Passion Hymn to the Precious Blood of Jesus, which sums up
in beauty, doctrine, and unction all the excellence of those
beautiful Hymns of the Passion of which we have given but a
foretaste :

56 THE STORY OP THE PASSION [April,

Sweet bleeding wounds of Jesus, hail!

Boundless pledges of love supreme,
From whose exhaustless founts doth flow

Christ's saving blood in crimson stream.

More brilliant than the orbs of night,

More fragrant than the fairest rose,
Than sweetest honey sweeter far,

More bright than brightest gem that glows.

Within these hallowed ruddy walls

May rest in peace the burdened mind;

No ruthless, unrelenting foe,

Shall ever there an entrance find.

What tongue can tell that scourging sad,

As Jesus naked sinking stood ?
Who count the wounds and sicred pores

Whence flowed the Saviour's saving blood?

Ah ! mark thee how the thorny crown

Doth cruelly pierce his pallid brow;
Unto the cross the rending nails

His hands and feet have fastened now;

But scarce his longing, loving soul

Hath fled, when through his sacred side

The ready lance life's fountain pierced,
Whence flowed the double mystic tide.

Like trodden grapes that heart was crushed,
That each redeeming drop might flow,

That in the holocaust complete

Man should Christ's love unbounded know.

Though sin like scarlet on. thy soul

Hath fixed its searing crimson stain,
Be washed but in this healing font,

All shall be white as. snow again.

To heaven's gracious Lord and King,
To him whose blood hath made us free,

Unto the Spirit ot all love,

Be praise and thanks eternally !

1900.] AS TOLD IN THE CHURCH'S HYMNS.

VIA DOLOROSA THE ROAD TO CALVARY'S MOUNT.

58 " THE RUSSIAN SCHISMATIC CHURCH'" [April*

THE RUSSIAN SCHISMATIC CHURCH/'

BY REV. JOSEPH BOYLE.

HE rapid growth of political influence, so vividly
revealed to the world in a brilliant series of
diplomatic triumphs at Constantinople, in the
Balkans, and in China, has of late years won
for Russia a notable prominence in the public
mind. Books dealing with the concerns of her empire are be-
ing steadily issued and eagerly bought. Owing, however, to
the stringent press censorship that is enforced within the Czar's
dominions, outsiders have, in most cases, to rely for their
knowledge of things Russian on the hasty and not over-accurate
impressions of travellers. Happily there is one side of Russian
life the religious side with regard to which we are not so
unfavorably circumstanced. Even before the discussions on
Christian Reunion stirred fresh interest in the Russian Church,
the distinguished convert, Father Gagarin, made us familiar
with much of its inner working. At times his pictures of re-
ligious decadence and apathy were so lurid as to excite a
haunting suspicion of exaggeration. Yet it is interesting to
note that every one of bis statements has been borne out and
emphatically endorsed by such an independent and competent
witness as Mackenzie Wallace, and still more recently by a
German writer, Dr. Knie, who presents his facts from the ful-
ness of knowledge acquired by long residence in the country
and intimate acquaintance with its language and customs.

DISINTEGRATION AT WORK.

The process of dissolution into sects, that begins to make
itself felt once a religious body goes adrift from the centre of
Christian unity, seems to have been especially active in Holy
Russia. Peter the Great's high handed action in abolishing the
authority of the Patriarch of Moscow to make way for his own
creature, the Holy Synod, as the supreme governing power in
the church, was the signal for the secession of large numbers,
under the name of Rasskols, or old Russians. The absence of
all catechetical instruction, and the discouragement of preach-
ing lest .it might lead to further schisms, soon reduced the
mass of the people to a condition of ignorance and prepared

1 900.] " THE RUSSIAN SCHISMATIC CHURCH." 59

a fertile field for the propaganda of the sectaries. It only
needed the persistent encroachments of German Lutherans and
the stimulus of M. Pobedonostseff's persecutions to make the
religious confusion worse confounded, and to-day every shade
of belief, and unbelief, counts adherents, from the sturdiest
Protestantism of Colonel Pashcoff to the most extreme nega-
tions of Nihilism. " In all these churches " (i. e., schismatic),
wrote Joseph de Maistre, " the great changes will be due in
the first place to the clergy, and it is the Russian Church from
which we have to expect the commencement, because it more
than any other is exposed to the atmosphere of Europe."

The two great wings of the Russian clergy, the regular or
Black clergy and the secular or White clergy, or popes, as they
are more frequently called, are divided by an ever-widening
gulf of jealousy. The Black clergy fill the episcopal sees,
direct the seminaries, and control nearly all the positions of
honor and emolument in the church. This monopoly is bitterly
resented by the popes, and about the middle of the century
they started a fierce agitation against it. Persistent clamor
helped to secure for them a few of the posts of importance,
such as embassy and military chaplaincies, together with two
prominent offices in the Holy Synod. They are universally
disliked, however, and, with no educated public opinion to sup-
port them, they made no further headway against the combined
wealth, intelligence, and influence of their adversaries. The monks
still retain the bulk of their privileges, as well as their popularity.

The latter possess whatever learning is to be found amongst
the Russian clergy. They are largely recruited from the eccle-
siastical Acadamias of St. Petersburg, Moscow, and Kieff, whither
the youth who have distinguished themselves in the seminaries
are sent to pursue a higher course of studies. Seminarians of
talent see no career open to their ambition by joining the
ranks of the popes. The monasteries are the recognized avenues
to the mitre, and naturally they exercise a strong fascination
on aspiring minds. Nevertheless, with such excellent brain-
power to draw upon, it is curious to note that Russian monas-
teries have signally failed to yield any intellectual results worthy
of the name. They have furnished to literature, sacred or pro-
fane, no names to compare with the galaxy of master minds
that have blossomed in the cloisters of the West. Russian
monks might aptly apply to their own case what a Panslavist
writer somewhat sweepingly remarked of his country as a whole:
"We have not contributed a single idea to the stock of human

60 " THE RUSSIAN SCHISMATIC CHURCH'' [April,

ideas, and what we have taken from elsewhere has been distorted
by us to caricature. Not a solitary great truth has arisen in
the midst of us. Even in the world of science our history has
no commencement ; it explains nothing, it illustrates nothing."

RELIGIOUS STATE OF THE MONASTERIES.

On the side of Christian practice the monasteries fall far
behind the standard of Catholic conventual life. No doubt up-
right, virtuous, and holy men are to be found in almost all the
monasteries ; but the system, or rather want of system, om
which the religious houses are conducted is but poorly adapted
to lead souls to the higher walks of perfection. Though they
are supposed to be under the rule of St. Basil, the monasteries
are in reality isolated units, governed largely in accordance
with the whims and caprices of the archimandrite, or superior.
Community life, as we understand it, is almost unknown. In
many houses the monks are provided only with food and lodg-
ing ; all other necessaries, such as clothes, shoes, and so forth,
they are expected to find at their own expense. The revenues
are in part divided amongst them, the superior coming in for
the lion's share. These revenues, in spite of the confiscating
schemes of Catherine II. and her successors, are still consider.
able. Rich Russians will pay fabulous sums for the privilege
of being interred within convent walls. The larger monaste-
ries, or laures, where relics are exposed for veneration, are
visited by crowds of opulent pilgrims who replenish the alms-
boxes with no unstinted hand. It is said that the famous
Laure of St. Sergius, in the vicinity of Moscow receives every
year no less than a million pilgrims. Its annual revenues are
believed to approximate to the extraordinary sum of ten million
dollars! Such an enormous income, and still more its partial
distribution amongst the inmites, is not well calculated to main-
tail the highest ideal of the religious life, of which experience
has shown the vow of poverty to be an indispensable safeguard.

Curious devices have been sometimes employed to obtain
recruits for the monasteries. The author of a book published
at Leipzig in 1866, and entitled The White and Black Clergy of
Russia, asserts that it was no uncommon thing for the pupils
of the Acadamias to frequent the cafes, restaurants, and public-
houses of their neighborhood. Sometimes they became so in-
toxicated that they had to be taken home on a hand-barrowr,
an incident known in the slang of the place as the translation
of the Relics. Waen this ignominy befell any student whom

i QOO.] " THE RUSSIAN SCHISMATIC CHURCH:' 61

the authorities particularly desired to enter a monastery, he
was summoned by the superior of the Aeadamia next morning
and informed of his expulsion. It was open to him to retrieve
his disgrace by giving satisfactory proofs of repentance, but
he was given to understand that no proof could be deemed
satisfactory which did not embrace his signature to a document
praying for permission to make his religious profession ! We
would fain hope that this method of making a monk is no
longer resorted to. Yet even to-day a vocation does not seem
to be insisted upon.

There is no novitiate, or period of probation, in which to
train the young monk into -settled habits of Christian virtue.
From the day he enters his time is largely taken up in the
mechanical recital of the long prayers and offices of the Russian
liturgy. For the rest, he is free to seek his recreation beyond
the monastery walls, almost at any hour of the day or night.

LITTLE REVERENCE FOR THE WHITE CLERGY.
Unsatisfactory as the state of the regular clergy appears,
the condition of the popes is tenfold more deplorable. "Who-
ever," says Dr. Knie, " has seen these greasy figures, whoever
has got to know the married popes with their keen sense of
business, will understand how they have become an object of
execration and mockery." As a class they seem to be very
ignorant and intemperate. The cast-iron .system under which
their lives are moulded could scarcely have any other result.
The White clergy are drawn from the children of priests.
A ukase of Alexander I., in 1814, declared that all the children
of clerics are at the disposal of the Ecclesiastical School De-
partment. And the department has used its powers with such
a vengeance as to have practically excluded outsiders and
turned the secular clergy into a closed corporation, or caste.
Marriage has been made obligatory before ordination. Candi-
dates are not even free in the choice of a partner, but must
marry the daughters of priests. Some bishops even go so far
as to insist that their clergy shall not marry outside the diocese.
Burdened with wives and families, the energies of the White
clergy are wholly absorbed in the struggle to eke out a
livelihood. The revenues that might maintain a celibate priest-
hood in comfort and respectability are quite inadequate for a
married clergy, as we were forcibly reminded not long ago by
a meeting of Anglican clergy in London, where it was stated
.that 270 ($1,350) a year and a free parsonage were not suffi-
cient for the upkeep of a parson's household. Yet the present

62 " THE RUSSIAN SCHISMATIC CHURCH" [April,

lot of the average Anglican parson, however joyless in his own
eyes, would make the most comfortable pope in Russia turn
green with envy. In the country districts he has often to
work in the fields like an ordinary moujik, or peasant. He is
driven to methods of supplementing his income which make
him the butt of popular derision. His stipend comes only to
a small extent from foundations, lands, or houses ; it is princi-
pally derived from the casual or voluntary contributions of his
parishioners, and these he has to collect in person. . At regular
intervals he visits the peasants' homes, to recite a Te Deum or
to exorcise the evil spirits from the cattle-stalls, and these
services frequently give occasion to very undignified wrangling
and bargaining about the fee. The peasant fights hard to cut
his visitor down to the lowest penny. Sometimes his ignorance
and superstition are played upon in order to quicken his
generosity. The story goes that on one of these visits a pope
who had recited a prayer beginning with the words " Bene-
dictus Deus noster " effectually frightened the hard-fisted far-
mer into payment of his demands by threatening to reverse the
blessing, which he pretended to do thus: " Non Benedictus, non
Deus, non noster." On the other hand, the peasant occasionally
decides the dispute in his own favor by giving his visitor a
severe thrashing. No matter how stiff the contest may be, it
seems to be the rule for both disputants to bring it to a close
by joining amicably in a glass of vodka, or brandy, an arrange-
ment not without its inconveniences if, as is usually the case,
the pope has a round of visits to make on the same day.

In St. Petersburg, and some of the larger cities, the lot of
the White clergy is cast in pleasanter places. They are some-
times very rich, and are provided with apartments elaborately
furnished. They entertain sumptuously, and, according to
Father Gagarin, some of them used to hold regular salons.
Yet it rarely happens now that the White clergy are to be
met with in educated circles, unless where their attendance is
needed to perform some official ceremony. If we are to trust
the testimony of Gogol's novels, the custom prevails in places
of introducing them to assemblies in a state of intoxication
in order to serve as a laughing-stock.

MEAGRE THEOLOGICAL KNOWLEDGE.

A more sinister indication of the depths to which the secu-
lar clergy have sunk is the marked tendency toward Nihilism
that pervades the younger members. The universities have
been for long hot-beds of Nihilism. But latterly the spirit of

1900.] " THE RUSSIAN SCHISMATIC CHUKCH.' 63

unbelief has overflowed into the seminaries. In the middle of
the last century the Acadamias of Kieff and St. Petersburg
were strongly under Catholic influence. Many of their pro-
fessors were trained in the schools of the Jesuits, and the Summa
of St. Thomas was regularly taught. The introduction of a
theological treatise by Prokopovich, a secular priest, soon
opened the door to Protestantism. The employment of a
succession of Lutheran teachers, beginning with the apostate
Capuchin Fessler, gave further impetus to the movement in the
same direction. To day every phase of infidelity that passes
over the German universities quickly reflects itself in the
ecclesiastical seminaries of Russia.

With its pastors falling a prey to such sterilizing tenden-
cies, it would be surprising to find religion an active force in
the life of the people. No attempt at definite religious in-
struction is ever made. The elementary catechism, drawn up
by command of Peter the Great, remains still the only source
of enlightenment. The peasant's knowledge of dogma does
not get much beyond the elementary facts of curiously re-
versed importance contained in the Russian saying : " The
Czar is in St. Petersburg, and God is in heaven." Superstition
is rife in every grade of society. Amongst the upper classes
magic appears to be regularly practised. The administration
of the sacraments claims little of the clergy's time, and excites
less of the people's devotion. To comply with a regulation of
the Holy Synod, there is a perfunctory effort made to receive
Communion during paschal time; but even then, in most par-
ishes, more than half the population totally disregard the law.
Yet the mass of the Russian people are religious, after a
fashion. Like most Oriental peoples they are deeply imbued
with a sort of contemplative piety. In the peasant's cabin as
well as the prince's palace gilt icons, or images of the Blessed
Virgin and saints, share with that of the Czar the places of
honor. In spite of ignorance, apathy, and Protestant propa-
gandism, devotion to the saints has always kept a firm hold
on Russian life ; it is the one Christian practice that stands
out most luminously amidst the spiritual wreckage with which
the Photian schism has strewn the East.

VERY LITTLE MISSIONARY EFFORT.

The religious apathy at home has its counterpart in the
feeble attempts at missionary work abroad. Though the Mus-
covite eagles have been borne across Siberia to the Pacific,
little has been done to spread Christianity in their track.

64 " THE RUSSIAN SCHISMATIC CHURCH" [April,

It is fifty years since the late Mr. Palmer, of Magdalen
College, Oxford, in a letter to the Russian student M.
Khomiakoff, severely impeached the utter indifference shown
by the Orthodox Church towards the duty of converting the
heathen. The impeachment has lost none of its force for any-
thing that has been done in the meantime. The propaganda
undertaken in Japan has yielded no tangible results. In Si-
beria the attempts to evangelize the Buryates who dwell near
Lake Baikal have not weaned these people from their Bud-
dhism. The tribes of the Ostyaks, and some of the Samoyeds,
accepted baptism under the gentle suasion of bayonets, but
their Christianity continues to be more than three-fourths pagan-
ism. As if to emphasize the utter hollowness of all this be-
lated zeal, we had the spectacle, some years ago, of \vhole
villages going over to Mohammedanism. The movement of
apostasy among individual Russians residing in the missionary
sphere still continues, but the defections en masse have been
checked, thanks to the zeal that occasionally prompts the
Czar's soldier to play the role of missionary on his own ac-
count. In the foreign mission-field, as at home, it is the
soldier behind the preacher that proves the most fruitful in-
strument of conversions. M. Tchiakowski, in reporting the
successful preaching of Pitirime, the Bishop of Nijni-Novgorod,
significantly added that the efforts of this eloquent missionary
were in every case firmly supported by the troops of Vice-
Governor Rjewski, who assembled the audience by force.

If the secular power thus lends one hand in the work of
conversions, it must be confessed that it has used the other
unsparingly to strangle initiative and bring about the stillness
of death where the force of life and independence ought to
manifest itself. It holds the whole ecclesiastical machinery of
Russia in its grip, through the Holy Synod. This curious body
is made up of the Emperor's chaplain, the chaplain-general of
the army and navy, and certain bishops nominated by the
Czar, and removable at his pleasure. Its deliberations are
watched and controlled by a procurator, usually a layman. In
Peter the Great's opinion, the ideal procurator should be a
military officer. The chief function of the Synod is restricted
to signing the decrees presented to it by the procurator, who
is himself the merest register of the imperial will. On one
occasion a member of the Synod, seeing one of his colleagues
reading a paper introduced by the procurator, said to him :
" Stop ! We are not here to read, but to sign ; sign now, it
gives less trouble and is sooner done."

i goo.] " THE RUSSIAN SCHISMATIC CHURCH" 65

CIVIL ADMINISTRATION OF THE CHURCH.

The Czar is the real head of the church and the master of
its destinies. The fact is painfully recognized in the wide-
spread servility that makes the Russian hierarchy the most
sycophantic in Europe. " Nowhere else," says Aksakoff, the
able Panslavist writer, " can be found such fear of truth as in
our spiritual hierarchy. And the chief cause of it all is that
we have so little belief in the power of truth. Our church is
a vast and unreliable flock with the police for a shepherd, an
institution that may be useful in the interests of the state.
But it must never be forgotten that the church is a kingdom
where the moral law ought not to be violated, and where infi-
delity to principle ought not to remain unpunished. And in
Russia, instead of the spirit that makes alive, we have an at-
mosphere of death, and the sword of the Spirit has become
rusty, overawed by the material sword of the state, and at the
gates of the church, instead of the angels of God, the guar-
dians are gensdarmes and police."

The outlook for the future is far from hopeful. It excites
bitter misgivings amongst those best qualified to judge, and
most interested in the welfare of the Russian Church. Amongst
those who have lifted their voices against the aggressive agen-
cies of irreligion, and there are many such, two distinct cur-
rents of opinion are visible. A small party, strong in its in-
telligence but sadly hampered in its freedom of action by
police supervision, follows the lead of the Abbe" Tolstoi, and
sees in a reunion with the Holy See the only hope of infusing
fresh life and vigor into the worn-out forces of " Orthodoxy."
The larger body of opinion, however, gravitates towards the
enthusiasts who still believe in the inherent resources of Holy
Russia if she were set free from the long frost of her political
bondage. In the immediate future, at all events, these aspira-
tions are hardly likely to be realized. The church has become
too handy an instrument in the schemes of autocracy to be
left at liberty to attend to her own mission. And should the
day of her deliverance ever arrive, it is the deliberately ex-
pressed forecast of the historian Pogodin that " one-half of the
peasantry will join the sect of the Rasskols, and one-half of
the educated classes will become Catholics."

voi-, LXXI. 5

S fl$C

fiere In tbe trencbes of tbis river's span
ook, if pou seek IDC summit of a man :

earthquakes of lyddite fumes of netber bell,
Rattle of maxim, crasb of bursting sbell :

Deatb in tbe air deatb leaping from tbe ground
Deatft in tDe breeze and u>itb tbe wbirliuind's bound,

yet not to pield until tbe last respite-
Co grasp one tropbP from tbe ebbing figbt,

Co die, but, dping, not to giue

Cbe sign of fear wberebp tbe craven live!

Rot nobler in tbe grim beleaguered pass
Cbe Spartans stood tuitb stancb eonidas :

not on tbe summit of our Bunker
Ratb Valor felt a purer, bolier tbrilL

flboue tbe caverns of tbis river bed

fier skp of fairest promise fame batb spread,

Jlnd wbere tbep died, tvbo died to keep men free,
Cbe stars of Glorp evermore sbail be !

JOHN JEROME ROONEY.

1 900.] THE IS^rfAMERiCA. 67

THE ITALIAN IN AMERICA: WHAT HE HAS
BEEN, WHAT HE SHALL BE.

BY LAURENCE FRANKLIN.

'ACH new people on its arrival in America has
had the same difficulties to meet before winning
a foothold on our soil. The Germans and Irish
have so far overcome these that they are now
accepted by us as brothers. The Italians, on
the contrary, have met with persistent opposition and discour-
agement, and are even to-day regarded as intruders. This has
arisen in part from the erroneous supposition that they came
to us as temporary sojourners only; in part from the equally
fallacious belief that whereas they took much from us, they
had little to offer us in return. It is time that we corrected
such errors, learned to do justice to these so-called aliens, and
began to study what may be done to make them not merely
useful but prosperous citizens of their adopted country.

Various efficient efforts towards this end are already being
made. Father Russo was one of the first to turn his attention
to the problem. Nine years ago he went down to Elizabeth
Street alone and began to work among its inhabitants. To-
day he has a parish of twelve hundred souls, and he has built
a chapel as well as two school-houses, where seven hundred
children are taught.

The Italian sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, whose
house is in Fourteenth Street, are also doing their share by
establishing Catholic schools in the various districts of lower
New York.

Among these enterprises, however, the most unique is that
of a Catholic Settlement, founded a little more than a year
ago by an American girl, Miss Gurney, in one of the laboring
districts, thickly inhabited by Italians. Miss Gurney is herself
a recent convert to Catholicism. She has for many years been
in touch with the church through friends in the different re-
ligious orders of the city ; but although their teaching made a
deep impression upon her, she still held back out of deference
to her mother's wishes; and as a compromise like Cardinal
Newman joined the High-Church faction of the Episcopal

68 THE ITALIAN IN AMERICA : [April,

denomination. It was during this period that she became a
resident in the settlement connected with one of their parishes,
and acquired the valuable experience which is now proving of
such service to her. When, however, she made her new con-
fession of faith she had no thought of continuing her philan-
thropic work along the old lines, until she was requested to
do so by one of the Dominican fathers in East Sixty-ninth
Street. He had learned from her the aim of the settlement
system, and believing firmly in its fundamental principle
that the most effectual way to help the poor is to live among
them and be in daily contact with them he invited Miss
Gurney to come into his parish and establish a settlement, the
first yet attempted under the protection of the church. The
Third Order of Dominicans assumed the financial burden of
the experiment ; the Cathedral contributed fifteen hundred
volumes towards the circulating library. It remained for its
founder to rent the house, now occupied by her on Sixty-ninth
Street, near First Avenue, and become, with her parents, a
resident of the quarter.

The plan of organization followed has been that used in
all settlements, and is virtually the same as the system origin-
ally evolved by the mediaeval monastic orders. A band of
monks or nuns moved into a district, visited among the people,
became their friends and advisers, instructed the children, ar-
ranged festivals, helped the needy, comforted the afflicted, and
grew to be the mainstay of the community. So with the
modern lay Settlement. Its chief aim is to stand as a social
centre, to which all may feel free to come for encouragement,
counsel, or assistance. The poor mothers meet there to learn
better methods of caring for thek children ; the children are
drawn in from the streets and entertained or instructed in re-
ligious teaching, and in practical branches, such as sewing. At
the house in Sixty-ninth Street there is a night-school where
reading and writing are taught ; while on four evenings a
week the Italian men and boys have an English class, and it
is gratifying to see how zealous they are in seizing the oppor-
tunity thus offered. The one cause for regret is that, owing
to lack of room and teachers, like advantages cannot be given
to the gi-rls ; for, as I have already indicated, one of the prin-
cipal ends of the work in question is to aid the Italians.

The only way to accomplish this is to go in search of them.
The non-sectarian settlements of the city have virtually never
reached them, and I understood the reason when one of their

1900.] WHAT HE HAS BEEN, WHAT HE SHALL BE.

"THE CHILDREN ARE DRAWN IN FROM THE STREETS AND ENTERTAINED OR INSTRUCTED."

workers said to me : " No, we have few Italians under our
care. You see we never go out to seek any one, and they do
not come to us."

Nor would they, for it is not in their nature to do so.
They have little initiative or aggressiveness. They take with
eager, outstretched hands what is brought to them, but they
do not know how to hunt down fortune. Yet no people are
more appreciative. A kind word or a pleasant smile counts in
their eyes as a service.

" Ah ! signora, I carry all your letters round with me in my
clothes ; then I know where they are when I want to re-read
them," an Italian youth once confessed to his benefactor; and
the gratitude and delicate sentiment expressed in his avowal
is what one meets constantly among them in exchange for the
smallest proof of sympathy or interest. A friendly visit has as
much value for them as the present of a loaf of bread ; and in
many cases it has been the means not only of cheering them
but of saving them from serious mistakes.

Thus, when St. Rose's Settlement was founded over on the

70 THE ITALIAN IN AMERICA : [April,

East Side scarcely an Italian was attending Mass, and there
were only three of their children in the Sunday-school, while
great numbers went to a Protestant mission near by. An in-
vestigation of the cause of this disclosed the fact that when-
ever a family moved into the neighborhood one of the mission-
aries called upon them, agreed to pay the first month's rent, and
to add a bag of flour, if they would join her congregation. A
dollar was also given to every child who entered the Sunday-
school, and another dollar promised for each new proselyte.
It is easy to imagine what a temptation this was to poor
laborers struggling to earn the bare necessities of life. Never-
theless an appeal to their consciences sufficed to bring them
back to the Faith, and to-day so many have returned to the
church that it has become expedient to have an Italian-speak-
ing priest in the parish to minister to them. These same
children also, many of them, made their First Communion last
spring, and the following anecdote will illustrate the effect pro-
duced on them :

It so happened that after the Mass they were coming home
with their medals, ribbons, etc., when they met their former
pastor.

" Why, boys, what does this mean ? " he asked, stopping be-
fore them on the sidewalk.

" We have been making our First Communion, sir," was the
answer.

" Bah ! it won't do you that much good"; and he snapped
his fingers.

Several boys tried valiantly to explain the significance of
the act, until one lad, more assertive than his comrades, ex-
claimed :

" Well, I know it 's done me good, 'cause now I ain't afraid
to die."

"But neither am I," retorted the pastor.

" Well, sir, if you died now, I guess you 'd make a pretty
bad finish."

There is no greater error than to suppose the Italian can
be helped outside of or despite his religion. His salvation is
through it. It is part and parcel of him. The church repre-
sents to him his one refuge in trouble, his only guide in
moments of uncertainty, his sole restraint in the hour of
temptation. In Italy it is not merely a place where he wor-
ships on Sunday, it is the spo^t to which he gravitates all the

igoo.] WHAT HE HAS BEEN, WHAT HE SHALL BE. 71

week. The mother brings her baby to play under its eaves
while she plaits her straw or spins her yarn ; the old men sun
themselves on the stone bench along its side ; the mattress-
maker dries his wool on the broad flagstones before its door ;
the children play hide-and-seek about the pillars of its porch.
Then, when the Vesper-bell sounds, they gather round the
altar in the cool shadow within as naturally as they would go
home to their firesides. In the same way it is the ecclesiasti-
cal calendar which orders their comings and goings, dividing
their year not into weeks and months, but into feast days and
fast days. They know that the anniversary of this saint will

A STREET IN OLD ITALY.

72 . THE ITALIAN IN AMERICA : [April,

bring a procession ; of that, a solemn celebration with flowers,
lights, and music ; and in the rural districts especially these
constitute the people's only recreation.

I remember with peculiar pleasure an Easter-tide spent at
Assisi. Every morning I was awakened by the sound of dis-
tant chanting, and, looking out of my window, I could see a
band of peasants, headed by their parish priest, toiling up the
steep ascent to say their prayers and place their flickering
tapers before the tomb of St. Francis. Each day brought the
inhabitants of another village. But on Easter the entire popu-
lation of the surrounding country came in a body to assist at
the procession of the confraternities of the town. The vast
public square was thronged with men and women -in gay, be-
flowered shoulder-shawls and bright-colored sashes. In their
midst were the different societies, each with its distinctive uni-
form and towering crucifix. When all was ready they moved
slowly up the narrow, winding street to the cathedral, then
down through another cleft of houses to the shrine of St.
Clara, and back under the high arch of the inner gate to the
starting-place. Here as many as could pushed their way into
the church. Hundreds, however, remained on the square out-
side, their eyes fixed reverently upon the blazing altar visible
through the wide-open door. They could hear nothing of the
service beyond an occasional burst of music, yet as the Host
was raised for Benediction a hush fell on the throng, the peo-
ple dropped on their knees and bowed their heads. A few
moments later the exodus towards the va.lley had begun, but I
could see from the happy faces which passed me that the day
had Brought to these simple hearts rest and cheer enough to
carry them patiently through many months of drudgery.

Take this out of their lives and they would be as much
adrift as is a mariner without a compass. Herein lies the
danger for those who migrate to this country. At home a
chapel or church stood at their very door. Their parish priest
was their personal friend, who had baptized them at their birth,
taught them their catechism, and watched over them like a
father or elder brother, reminding them when they remained
too long absent from the confessional and the sacraments.
Over here they are suddenly thrown ba,ck upon themselves,
without either tradition or public opinion to foster their sense
of moral and social responsibility. The people about them are
strangers, not only in language but in their manners and habits
of life. No church is to be found in the long row of tene-

1900.] WHAT HE HAS BEEN, WHAT HE SHALL BE. 73

ments which form their horizon line, and the priests whom
they meet speak another tongue. Thus, like sheep without a
shepherd, they too often go astray, wandering into some other
fold, through interest or ignorance. I know, for example, of
one family who during many months walked every Sunday
from 6ist Street to Ii2th to attend an Italian service, without
suspecting that it was a Methodist chapel.

" But could you not see that it was not the same ? " their
informant asked.

" Well," they replied, "we saw that there wasn't any crucifix,
or any altar to the Virgin, but we thought that was how they
did it in America."

The truth is that the Italian knows but one church. Talk
to him of Christians and heretics, he understands. Try to ex-
plain the various conditions of sectarianism existing in the
United States, and he is completely at sea. Any church, there-
fore, means to him a Catholic church. A number, I am aware,
go to the Tabernacle in Broome Street ; but they invariably refer
to it as the " Protestant Society," frankly admit that they join
it because they receive donations of fuel and clothing, and at
the next " Festa " are seen carrying lighted tapers behind the
statue of the Virgin. As for the spiritual teaching received
there, it is of so unintelligent a character that even the believ-
ing members of the congregation cannot uphold '*it. The
daughter of a Milanese pastor said to me :

" I never go to church, because I cannot stand the sermon.
The preacher is absolutely illiterate. Over here the Protest-
ants allow any one to enter the ministry. The most uneducated,
in consequence, adopt the calling as an easy way of gaining
a livelihood."

This confession shows how incompetent the various denom-
inations are to meet the situation, and how urgent it is for
the church to protect her children. I would not infer that
she is not laboring ceaselessly, but what is needed are more
priests and more lay workers who understand the language and
the nature of this people. The task to be accomplished by
them is a weighty one. The suppression of so many convents
and monasteries in Italy has deprived the peasants there of an
important source of instruction ; and because of this they come
to us in a much greater state of ignorance. I believe, however,
that those who seek to uplift them will be amply repaid for
their efforts.

The Italians are already a passive force in this country by

74 THE ITALIAN IN AMERICA : [April,

reason of their great numbers. In the year 1898 alone 76,492
landed on our shores, and statistics on immigration show that
many over a million have passed through Castle Garden. Add
to this their high birth-rate (for no nation is more prolific),
and we see how great must be the multitude of them at pres-
ent settled among us. If, through education and a better
understanding, we can transform this passive into an active
power, think what an important factor it will become in our
national life ! A factor, moreover, which should prove of
benefit to us ; for the so-called " Dago " or " Guinea," as his
fellow-immigrants have contemptuously dubbed him, can boast
of qualities sadly needed among us.

Take, for instance, his temperance. During my frequent
sojourns in Italy I do not think that I ever met an intoxicated
man on the streets, and a drunken woman is such an anomaly
that she is regarded as a social pariah. Some few, I am sorry
to say, have learned the vice from us, but they are still the
exceptions. Another point in their favor is their purity.
Until recently prostitution was virtually unknown in their
colonies, and although some attempt has been made to intro-
duce the hideous traffic, it is meeting with strong opposition.

They can also teach our people much in the way of manners.
Even the roughest of them have an instinctive courtesy, an
innate . gentleness which makes them peculiarly susceptible to
refining influences, and especially when their aesthetic sense is
appealed to. They take a child-like delight in beauty for
itself. If an Italian girl sees a pretty gown she will stroke it,
admire it, call the attention of others to it, but with no thought
of envy. It is something which pleases her eye, and she looks
at it as we would at a picture in a museum. In the same way
they respond quickly to the least attempt to embellish their
surroundings. It is touching to note with what eagerness the
inhabitants of Little Italy are awaiting the completion of their
park at First Avenue and One Hundred and Twelfth Street,
with what pride they speak of their new stone tenement-houses
as " palazzini," and declare that theirs will soon be the hand-
somest quarter in the city. Why should not this love of the
beautiful eventually modify our utilitarian acceptance of ugli-
ness, as the Germans have quickened our musical understand-
ing, and the French our artistic sense in dress and decoration ?

Unfortunately, with this quick appreciativeness comes also
great sensitiveness, which unfits them to cope with our ruder
methods of dealing. I know, indeed, of no subtler commentary

i QOO.] WHAT HE HAS BEEN, WHAT HE SHALL BE. 75

on our habitual brusqueness, bred of hurry, than was made to
me by an Italian boy for whom I had secured employment.
When he came to tell me how happy he was in his new posi-
tion, he made no mention of the better wages or easier work,
but merely exclaimed :

" Just think, when my * padrone ' comes in he always says

"THEY DO NOT KNOW HOW TO HUNT DOWN FORTUNE."

' Good-morning ' to me, so does his son "; and the lad's eyes
filled with tears.

To speak of their industry and thrift seems well-nigh a
platitude, since even their calumniators allow them these two
virtues. Yet they cannot be passed over without word, for it
is through these that they will primarily advance. One thing
only must they learn, to practise the second more wisely. At
present, although they are past-masters in economy, they have
not learned the equally important lesson of judicious spending
and investing. Unless they have enough to purchase a plot of
ground and to be a land-holder is their highest ambition they
will secrete their savings without any effort to place them

76 THE ITALIAN IN AMERICA : [April,

where they will bring in a return. Even when they do reach
the point like a certain man in Mulberry Street of owning
four or five houses, they still continue to live in a few rooms
like the poorest of their tenants. The result is that they are
slow to profit by their own increasing prosperity.

In one respect only has our broader civilization already
made a signal impression on them it has developed in their
minds a profound reverence for education. They see that this
is essential to all progress. They themselves have been ham-
pered by the lack of it. In a nation where every one knows
how to read and write they have been constantly pushed to
the wall because of their ignorance. While the Germans and
Irish have risen to responsible positions because of their supe-
rior schooling, they have been forced to accept the humblest
employments. What wonder, therefore, that they covet educa-
tion for their children? It is often this which lies at the bot-
tom of the requests made to place the latter in some pub-
lic institution, even when both father and mother are able-
bodied. The motive is not lack of affection, for the Italians
are notably fond of and kind to their children. Nor can it be
laziness, since they continue to work as hard. No ; they are
actuated by a desire to procure for their boys and girls the
advantages which their meagre earnings cannot buy. They
know that under the charge of the State the children will re-
ceive an American training as well as better instruction, and
it is with pride, not shame, that they speak of a son at " col-
lege " (for such they call it), while the boy himself, when he
comes out of the Orphan Asylum or Protectory, is looked up
to by all his old comrades in the quarter.

Those who remain at home are sent to the public schools,
and the^ truant agent is seldom called upon in their behalf.
Some even go on to the university and those not always the
richest. I know, for instance, a stone-cutter's family in Little
Italy which has denied itself almost the necessities of life in
order to give the only son a college training. The boy is now
in the New York University and shows an excellent standing,
while two others of the colony took prizes at Columbia last
year. In all grades teachers agree in commending their intel-
ligence and studiousness, for next to the Jews they are the
best scholars in the matter of application. The boys are espe-
cially clever in drawing, modelling, and manual work which
requires- delicate fingers. The girls are better in languages and
history. One has only to pay a visit to the Baxter Street

1900.] WHAT HE HAS BEEN, WHAT HE SHALL BE. 77

school, and observe the number of neat, bright-looking Italian
children there, to realize how unjust we have been in treating
this race as outcasts and aliens.

It rests, indeed, with this younger generation to revenge
their elders, and prove what excellent citizens Italians can be.
They have already taken the first step by breaking down the
barriers which have separated them from other nationalities.
Heretofore the Italians have lived too much to themselves.
Through instincts of economy they have huddled together in
their over-crowded colonies, as ignorant of America and Ameri-
can affairs as they were in Palermo or Naples. They have not
even shown a disposition to gain strength through consolida-
tion. It is rare, indeed, that an immigrant from " High Italy,"
living in Thompson, Sullivan, or MacDougal Streets, will asso-
ciate with his brother from the South over in Mulberry Bend,
while the poorer inhabitants of Little Italy are treated with
condescension by both. If you go to a house full of Genoese
and ask if there are not other Italians in the vicinity, they
will answer in the negative.

" But are n't those Italians across the way ? " you persist.

"Over there? Yes,' but they're Sicilians, and I wouldn't
advise you to go there. It might n't be safe."

Visit the Sicilians first and ask about the Genoese, the
warning will be the same. Occasionally these geographical
distinctions are carried still further, and an entire tenement
will be occupied by emigrants from one small village still so
closely bound by home customs that when the anniversary of
the patron saint of their community comes round, they set up
a shrine in the back yard, decorate the fire-escape, organize a
procession, and march round the block, with all the fervor
with which they once bore these same banners up and down
the winding streets of their native place.

The most important of these festas in New York is that
given at the Carmelite Church in East H5th Street on the
i6th of July, Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Thousands
of Italians travel from all over the country to assist at it,
camping in the vacant lots near the river, and feeding on
"polenta" (boiled mush), " castagnaccio " (chestnut cake), and
fruit bought from the push-carts drawn up along the sidewalk.
The celebration opens in the morning with a solemn proces-
sion. Women bear on their heads altars covered with decorated
candles, from each of which hangs a white ribbon held by a
little girl in her First Communion dress. At intervals in the

78 THE ITALIAN IN AMERICA : [April,

long line of participants come bands of music preceding some
sacred image with its guard of priests and acolytes, while at
the end is the statue of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. After a
tour of the neighborhood, the procession returns to the church
and High Mass is sung, while during the rest of the day the
Italian chapel in the basement is thronged with pilgrims eager
to lay their offerings at the feet of the Madonna.

Whether these festivals will retain their specifically Italian
character a quarter of a century hence is a question ; since, as
I remarked earlier, the children of to-day already possess much
less feeling of race difference than their parents, and their
children in turn will probably be thorough-going Americans
or Irishmen ; for strangely enough it is the Irish who seem
to make the strongest impression on them. The other, day,
for example, my attention was drawn to a small Neapolitan.

"Are you an Italian?" I asked, merely to open the con-
versation.

*' Sure," was his reply.

" Were you born in Italy ? "

" Sure 'n I was," he continued in so broad a brogue that
had not his teacher vouched for his assertion I should have
doubted his veracity.

It is, furthermore, this younger generation which in the
near future must lend an entirely new aspect to the Italian
problem, since because of its superior numbers it will hereafter
counteract the effects of all subsequent immigration. What
will be the outcome ?

To begin with, the children enter the race equipped with a
knowledge of English, familiarity with American customs, and
an acquaintance with the leading traits of the various nationali-
ties with which they will have to come in contact. They will,
therefore, be free to give full play to all their inherent capa-
bilities. Their first impulse, we may be sure, will be in the
direction of politics, for the Italian is a natural-born politician.
It was this which in the middle ages made every city of the
peninsula a separate state. It is this which to-day leads to so
many misguided political movements there. Already on this
side he has begun to take a hand in the government, and
more than one Murphy or Donnelly is really a Morfeo or
Donati, who for the sake of greater authority and power has
translated his name into good Celtic. When, moreover, he has
acquired influence and learned to use it intelligently, he will
necessarily turn it against certain abuses which have grown up

i goo.] WHAT HE HAS BEEN, WHAT HE SHALL BE.

"TO SPEAK OF THEIR INDUSTRY AND THRIFT SEEMS WELL-NIGH A PLATITUDE."

among his own people as the result of their ignorance and in-
experience.

The first to be attacked will, I hope, be the "padroni sys-
tem," which literally farms out the newly-arrived immigrant to
some boss, who reserves for himself not only the right to em-
ploy the laborer, but also to clothe and lodge him. Then if
he chooses arbitrarily to suspend work or reduce the number
of hours, the man must still pay his board and sleep in the
shanty, which perhaps his employer has also contracted to
build. Still worse; the "padrone," not infrequently, has had
to borrow the money necessary to secure these privileges, and

8o THE ITALIAN IN AMERICA. [April,

the first condition made by the lender is that the whole gang
of laborers deposit their earnings in his bank and send their
remittances home through him. When, moreover, these sums
do not reach their destination, if the sender dare cast suspi-
cion on the money-changer he is threatened with discharge.
And this silences him, not only because he fears that he may
not find another job, but also because he does not wish to
lose the five dollars paid to the boss to procure the present
one. Nothing could be more deplorable than this state of
things, and the remedy can only come through the Italians
themselves. Some attempt to call attention to it has been
made by the Immigration Bureau, but to accomplish anything
final all the intelligent members of the colony must co-operate.

A better understanding of the political conditions will also
bring more rapid commercial advancement. We have already
seen what can be done from the fortune of $800,000 recently
left by the caterer Maresi, as well as from the several millions
willed by the banker, Mr. Fabri, to his nephews. But in a
smaller way there is greater prosperity in the colony than we
suppose. More than one immigrant who has started with a
push-cart as his sole capital has en'ded by discarding its wheels,
converting it into a fixed counter, and building up a profitable
grocery or fruit trade about it. Another who has begun by
grinding an organ has ended by manufacturing hundreds of
them, or has formed a syndicate, and sent out twenty or
thirty men a day to play his instruments in different parts of
the city. If this has been done by the first generation, what
may not be expected by the second with its superior training.
They will develop what the colony most needs, a strong middle-
class, which is always the backbone of every community.

Heretofore, those who have come to us have belonged
either to the lowest strata of society, or to the highest the
latter, I regret to say, having too often emigrated because
of some misdeed committed at home. An occasional trust-
worthy physician, lawyer, editor, or banker has also joined in
the exodus, but they have been too few to constitute a separate
faction, and it remains for the Italian-Americans to fill the
wide gap which has until now existed in their colonies. That
they will do it efficiently is the hope and belief of all those
who have gone among them with sympathy and understanding
in their hearts.

1900.] ANOTHER ASPECT OF NEWMAN. 81

ANOTHER ASPECT OF NEWMAN.

BY REV. HENRY E. O'KEEFFE, C.S.P.

'OR the student it is worth noting that quite re-
cently a complete and at the same time the
only authorized edition of Newman's writings has
been published.* This edition is of value be-
cause of the author's corrections, modifications,
notes, comments, and amplifications. Apart from his interesting
personality, Newman's style will remain a perennial source of in-
quiry and imitation. Newman would have found many things in
America to distress him, yet it would have pleased him to learn
that the few thoughtful among us have studied him almost as
eagerly as the flight of rare spirits who watched him by day and
night in his own holy city of Oxford. If his influence there has
waned, it can never wholly die. He has attached himself to the
everlasting world of literature by his gift of imagination and
speech. Nothing in English can be compared to his simplicity
'and self-restraint. An acute critic has placed him for music of
language alongside of Cicero ; yet this gift is a mere incident,
for of more worth is the sincerity of the mind behind the
faculty the truth consistent with and almost one with the
expression. The personal element in all he has written is very
akin to Dante's characteristic ; yet the personalities of each are
vastly dissimilar. What was said by both was first felt in the
marrow of their bones. When they faintly intimate the diffi-
culty of a mystery we know that the pressure on their minds
must have been enormous. Yet withal there is ever a due re-
serve and sense of composure, which can be attributed to
Newman more easily than to Dante. Immeasurably narrower,
however, is Newman's mind when compared with Dante's. Is
there any human being, not even forgetting Shakspere and
Goethe, who can be associated with this mighty Italian for
breadth of imagination ? For him the gutters of Florence ran
streams of flame, and the stones of Giotto's tower were sing-
ing paeans to the stars. His mental action is of white heat
intensity almost to the point of insanity, and one wonders,

* The Works of Cardinal Newman. Complete edition in thirty-eight volumes. Long-
mans, Green & Co., 93 Fifth Avenue, New York, and London.

VOL. LXXI. 6

82 ANOTHER ASPECT OF NEWMAN. [April y

with Plato, if such be not divine. Within his wrinkled pate
he gathered the worlds ; he knew what is best in the sciences,
astronomy, mathematics, computed and foretold systems in the
heavens, then turned his mind to the constitution of matter
and concocted theories of chemical operation. He knew his-
tory, sacred and profane, pagan and Christian. He sounded
the deepest depths of emotion and expressed in his life the
most incessant action. He controlled with ease the principles
of philosophy, ancient and mediaeval, and traversed with the
swiftness of Mercury the three great departments of divine
theology, and perhaps saw their causes more clearly than most
of the bishops of Christendom.

So it is not judicious to compare Newman with Dante be-
cause of his living perception of the invisible, so subtly ex-
pressed in his one Dantesque poem. The similarity is rather
in the fact that what was said or sung was part and parcel of
themselves, and came like electric flashes from the tips of
their fingers.

Yet who so self-possessed as Newman ? There are passages
of his which act like a sedative on the mind and the heart. We
must thank England for giving us this spiritual genius. Amid the
strife of many voices his note of solemn unction sounds clear
and brings silence, as the music of a bird when all the woods
are hushed. Every true man must perforce and in time become
a genius. The continuity and unvarying quality of purpose in
his life will ever be the device with which Newman will cap-
ture honest and free minds. The reader is impressed with the
overwhelming conviction that what is said by the author is
indeed true. He does not write of what he has not seen
clearly and felt deeply. Indeed, his fault is to so fascinate
the mind that we begin to fear for the validity of an ar-
gument which does not appeal to him because of his own
structure of mind. To most minds an act of faith would
be a rational process, for the beginning and end of the
act are built upon the foundations of reason. To Newman's
mind it would be a leap into the dark ; the reasons for the
leap might be clear and so he would take it, but his mind
was so large and demanded so much that even the ultimate
region of truth must be for him clear as a sky of blue. It is
the temptation of great minds r Dante cried for peace of mind
and Goethe died asking for more light. It is a question
whether the mere language which became the raw material out
of which serious agnostics could construct the charge of seep-

ANOTHER ASPECT OF NEWMAN. 83

ticism be not warranted. It is denied by many, and of course
Newman has given many external arguments to prove that
Catholicism is the only historically and logically tenable form
of Christianity, yet the atheist might be anxious to reduce
Newman to the more radical question : Do you find the diffi-
culties fewer or as many in Catholicism as you do' in Atheism ?
In other words, is the matter entirely tweedle-dum, tweedle-
dee ? or, to speak in a commonplace manner, is humanity an
ass with its head between two bales of hay both acceptable
objects and attracted from some unknown instinct toward
one rather than toward the other. Is there as much in Athe-
ism to quell the restless inquiries of the mind as there is in
Catholicism ? And if there is, is he Newman drawn to the
latter through the head or the heart ? Certainly, as he himself
has said, " to a perfectly consistent mind there is no medium in
true philosophy between Atheism and Catholicity " ; but what if
there be one reason for accepting Atheism and two for
Catholicism ? In explanation he would seem to intimate that
one bale of hay might be excellent food for one donkey, but
poison for another. He remarks, by way of amplification, in the
Note II. of the Grammar of Assent: "I am a Catholic, for
the reason that I am not an Atheist." Then one is tempted
to forget reverence and fear for his genius, and beg him to
say, rather, I am a Catholic because the arguments for Catholi-
cism have an objective value : they are adequately proportion-
ate to my intellect ; they have satisfied the logical demands of
my mind ; they do not totally explain the difficulties, but they
give me something by which to adjust my visual power ; if I
cannot see, then the defect is with me in my organism for
seeing but there is a reality of existence in the arguments,
and they are external to myself and the same for all minds.
Then, on the other, I would with becoming and profound
humility and deliberation ask him to put on record that he
believes the arguments for Atheism prove and explain nothing,
not because the arguments for Catholicism do explain and
prove, but because they have no existence, and therefore cannot
create a medium of adequate proportion between intellect and
object. Of course nowhere in his writings is the philosophic
value of Atheism expressed ; indeed, the thirty-eight volumes
which he has left and the example of his blameless life are a
testimony of the thoroughness of the argument for Catholicism.
Yet if he leaves me, the reader, with the impression that
there is another intellectual region where my mind might be

84 ANOTHER ASPECT OF NEWMAN. [April, '

satisfied either, more or less, I feel constrained to leave him
and seek my fortune in that new country ; for the laws of my
own land rationally demand my entire obedience, and they
only explain, and that partially, the difficulties which beset my
mind. In writing thus there is excluded, to be sure, the
Christian idea of probation in life and the relative value and
supernatural merit of an act of faith.

It would be dishonest to say that Newman was a sceptic ;
yet that his mind was of sceptical construction must be the
conclusion arrived at by the disciple who has studied his
revelations analytically, especially the more intimate ones, like
the Apologia or the Grammar of Assent.

Scepticism is always a serious charge, but a sceptical or in-
credulous quality of mind may be a good thing if the individual
bshind it be honest and possess that rare gift of analysis. Possi-
bly in his tenderness Newman may have been seeking a mode of
justification for those minds which because of their peculiar com-
plexions excluding the influences of education, prejudice, tem-
perament, or domestic and social affiliations, seem to honestly re-
ject the irresistible force of evidence in argumentation. Yet he
does not say so, and the question is whether the fear of distract-
ing ill-educated minds may have kept him silent. In the note at
the end of the Grammar of Assent he compares his manner of
thought concerning the quotation above to the famous argu-
ment in Butler's Analogy. He contends that no one would
dare to forget Butler's sermons on Christian subjects, or his
consistent Christian life, because forsooth the bishop defended
the proposition in defence of his own creed, that it is the only
possible alternative of the denial of the moral law. Then,
immediately after this, Newman reveals his own mind in the
words: "If on account of difficulties we give up the gospel,
then on account of parallel difficulties we must give up nature ;
for there is no standing-ground between putting up with the
one trial of faith and putting up with the other." Again one
is tempted to ask him : are not the reasons for putting up
with a trial of faith so irresistible that there are no reasons
left for putting up in the least with any other mode of
thought ? The question is : are the things which make a trial
of faith of any objective value whatever, or are they not rather
disturbances or ill adjustments of essentially good things which
have produced the confusion of history, the tumult in the phy-
sical universe, and disorder in the mind? I gather from New-
man's writings an impression which has never been relieved,

1900.] ANOTHER ASPECT OF NEWMAN. 85

that although he did not formally deny the logical and external
proof of the existence of God, he does not care to study it,
because he is so sure of himself and of his own personal argu-
ments. He rushes away from the world with its marks of de-
sign ; he puts aside the books with their stock proofs of posi-
tive value, and there within the sanctuary of his own mind the
existence of God is ; he says, " borne in upon me irresistibly,
. . . the great truth of which my whole being is full."*

Again, it may be questioned whether this argument, so
personal to Newman, be of any value to others. We have the
traditional argument from the law of conscience, but its founda-
tion is not only from within but from without ; from a study
of the polity and policy of nations, the principle of cause and
effect written upon stones, the law of justice detected in even
the warfare of rude savages and traced in the tribal relation-
ships of early historic periods, and lastly the keen moral sense
of advancing civilization.

But of what objective value would Newman's personal
spiritual experience, and the revelation of it, be to a mind
less candid and pure than his? One might ask the same of
Rosmini's or of Des Cartes' personal argument. In affirming
this one would be very narrow to disregard the validity of
the personal within its own sphere, as we on our part de-
mand a reverent inquiry into the external objective argument
in its sphere. Indeed, the Grammar of Assent and the Apologia
may both be said to be personal, yet who can deny the intellec-
tual merit and the help which these books have been to some?
There is so much that is overwhelmingly good that only an
unusual reader does detect, and in spite of himself, the pecu-
liar quality that lurks in them.

A sentence such as this which may be found in the Oxford
University Sermons \ forces us to believe that either we have
misinterpreted philosophy and logic or else we are ignorant. But
it is a fact, and all the more curious because it is against the
vanity of nature, that when a mind is shadowed by so earnest
a mind as Newman's it does not rely on its own power but
abandons itself to the superior's transcending charms. Herein
lies the danger. He tells us: "And such mainly is the way
in which all men, gifted or not gifted, commonly reason not
by rule, but by an inward faculty." In the Grammar of Assent \
he would leave us free to believe that the motives of credibility
for the truth of a proposition are not in the expression of pre-

* Apologia, p. 241. f Sermon xiii. 7, p. 257, 3d ed. ; Chap. viii. i.

86 ANOTHER ASPECT OF NEWMAN. [April,

mises or conclusion. "As to Logic," he remarks, "its chain of
conclusions hangs loose at both hands ; both the point from
which the proof should start and the points at which it should
arrive are beyond its reach ; it comes short both of first princi-
ples and of concrete issues." If this mean that logic has no right
to confine an idea supposing even the deepest and most tran-
scendental then the system, as constructed by Aristotle and
perfected by Saint Thomas Aquinas, is of less value than we
were taught. The soul is wider in its breadth of being, yet it
is one with the body. Can sentiment, taste, impulse, memories,
moods, inclinations construct an argument? If they can, then
let us ask merely concerning sentiment : what is the compara-
tive worth of its argument in appealing to all minds or even
to one mind ?

Briefly stated, the scheme intended to be conveyed in the
Grammar of Assent is this : It begins with the refutation of
the fallacies of those who say we cannot believe what we can-
not understand ; then indirectly reasons are given for believ-
ing in a Mind which established those laws which interlace
the structure of the universe and which show a method of
transition from cause to effect. There then appears the curi-
ous question as to whether the cumulation of probabilities can
give certainty. According to the more strict method of phi.
losophy, which Newman does not use, certitude would exclude
all possibility of doubt ; probabilities might be regarded as the
lower strata of the material out of which certainty is moulded.
Then the author proceeds to give a direct proof of Theism ;
then the proof of Christianity from the striking fulfilment of
the prophecies, and the principle of continuity running from
Judaism through to Christianity, and its living expression in
Catholicism. He ends with a picturesque passage on the pre-
ternatural fortitude of the early martyrs.

Newman would seem to explain the modes of procedure in
ratiocination to two methods to what he calls "the ascending
or descending scale of thought." He preferred the descend-
ing a sentence from The Discourses to Mixed Congregations
will elucidate ; it is in the Sermon on Mysteries : " If I must
submit my reason to mysteries, it is not much matter whether
it is a mystery more or a mystery less ; the main difficulty is
to believe at all ; the main difficulty for an inquirer is firmly
to hold that there is a living God, in spite of the darkness
which surrounds Him, the Creator, Witness, and Judge of men.
When once the mind is broken in, as it must be, to the belief

i goo.]

ANOTHER ASPECT OF NEWMAN.

of a Power above it, when once it understands that it is not
itself the measure of all things in heaven and earth, it will
have little difficulty in going forward. I do not say it will or
can go on to other truths without conviction : I do not say it
ought to believe the Catholic Faith without grounds and
motives ; but I say that, when once it believes in God, the
great obstacle to faith has been taken away, a proud, self-
sufficient spirit," etc., etc.

The truth is that Newman, like any other man or school in
the church, must be studied, and he is of value only in so far
as he provokes us to think and make judgments for ourselves.
The full-blown maturity of his power is in the Grammar of
Assent, and it truly seems to bear the seal of what we term
genius; yet it is only a testimony, unrivalled, if you will, for
condensation and seriousness, but personal unto himself. To
the religious philosopher it will ever be an enigma, and to
reduce it to value some sympathetic disciple shall have to har-
ness it in scholastic terminology, else it will ever remain a
tangle of mental moods. In the face of his numberless ardent
admirers we may venture to say that he was not a philosopher,
no more than he was a scientist or a mystic. Perhaps the fault
we find may be one of the golden charms with which he shall
attract the future modern mind. Yet one may be permitted to
say this and still kneel in reverence to the light of his spiritual
sense, to the glories of his literary art, to the unvarying pur-
pose of his honest life and his unflinching faith unto death.

" PEORIA, NEW WITH THE PULSE OF MODKRN LIFE ; EAGER, RESOLUTE, THRIFTY,

GROWING."

FORT CRHVE-CCEUR.

BY REV. FRANK J. O'REILLY.

ITHIN easy view of the modern city of Peoria
lies the site of Fort Creve-Coeur. It is in keep-
ing with the lines of faithful narrative to speak
of the site ; for more than two hundred years
it has been little else. The trees and varied
wooded growth that surround La Salle's first stand for
civilized life in the discovery of the Great West have not the
vigor and growth that divert attention to themselves ; neither
have they the grandeur that forced from Emerson, in the
Yosemite, " The Plantations of God ! " Rather do they climb
and retrace and tumble in seeming anxiety to rival more the
ivy that in Europe everywhere manifests a philanthropy that
time perhaps would neglect. The half-broken and crumbling
walls which give us the touch in which every European
traveller finds such relief and relish for all inconveniences
alone are absent.

The completion of Chicago's thirty-odd million dollar canal
directs attention anew to our Fort. The last year of the
century forces a retrospect; the canal suggests a prophecy.
The prophet need claim but little of the divinity that doth
hedge us round to venture into the future. The retrospect

1900.]

FORT CREVE-CCEUR.

8 9

compels one in recalling the loss of The
Griffin the first boat to whiten with its
sails the waters of Lake Erie to moralize
how frequently fortune frowns upon the
noblest endeavors. Coy is she, for out of
disaster are wrenched fame and per-
manent place. Had success crowned
, a / tne early endeavors of our explorer,
he might have confined his energies
to commerce, and fallen from a perma-
nent place with the triumvirate of ex-
plorers, Champlain, D'Iberville, and La
Salle, which France gave to the new

world. Had Wendell Phillips, the youthful lawyer of twenty-
four, not found his true client in the aged colored woman
sold at auction in the early October afternoon of his own city,
he would have attained affluence and distinction in Boston, but
the world certainly would have lost an orator and mankind an

THE SITE OF FORT CREVE-CCEUR, NEAR PEORIA.

9 o

FORT CREVE-CCEUR.

[April,

ft -9

PEORIA'S FIRST PRELATE.

emancipator. The relentless bitterness of experience but deep-
ened La Salle's nature to the capacity of a vision of suffering
at once appalling a^d sublime. The unknown, hazardous but
fascinating, beckoned him on. His was the true instinct of
the explorer. The Illinois and the Mississippi allured his gen-
erous soul and took his name from all the narrow circumstances
of a burgher's Rouen home.

The mention of explorers suggests thoughts quite unlike
anything else coming out of the past. With their advent we
see the passing away of a life that brings us face to face with
the very Stone Age itself. In commenting on the work of
Francis "Parkman, Professor Fiske says : " In an important
sense, the age of Pontiac is far more remote from us than the

1900.]

FORT CREVE-CCEUR.

age of Agamemnon. When barbaric society is overwhelmed
by advancing waves of civilization its vanishing is final ; the
thread of tradition is cut off for ever with the shears of Fate.
Where are Montezurtia's Aztecs? Their physical offspring still
dwell on the table-land of Mexico and their ancient speech is
still heard in the streets, but that old society i-s as extinct as
the trilobites, and has to be painfully studied in fossil

PEORIA'S CATHEDRAL.

92 FORT CREVE-CCEUR. [April,

ments of custom and tradition. So with the red men of the
North ; it is not true that they are dying out physically, as
many people suppose, but their stage of society is fast disap-
pearing, and soon it will have vanished for ever. Soon their
race will be swallowed up and forgotten, just as we overlook
and ignore to-day the existence of five thousand Iroquois
farmers in the State of New York."

On the one side of the Illinois River is the site of Fort
Creve-Cceur, having still many of the primeval traits which no
stretch of the imagination finds hard to say are the same as
when La Salle landed in January, 1680, and began with his
faithful followers to build the first home of the white man in the
Great Valley of the Mississippi. While the name given the Fort
recalls the heart-breaks of the past, the building of the Fort itself
betokens iron will to press on and on. On the other side of the
same river is the City of Peoria, new with the pulse of modern
life, eager, resolute, thrifty, and growing. The hither and the
yon tell the story of the nation, the present and the past, the
merchant prince and the hardy pioneer. The State song speaks
with no exaggerated enthusiasm of our topographical and
moral worth. The world is, in truth, enriched by both.

By the river gently flowing,

Illinois, Illinois,
O'er the prairies verdant growing,

Illinois, Illinois,

Comes an echo o'er the breeze
Rustling through the leafy trees,
And its mellow tones are these

Illinois, Illinois.

Through a wilderness of prairies,

Illinois, Illinois,
Straight the way and never varies,

Illinois, Illinois,
Till beside the inland sea
Stands the great commercial tree,
Turning all the world to thee,

Illinois, Illinois.

Not without thy wondrous story,

Illinois, Illinois,
Can be writ the Nation's glory,

Illinois, Illinois

FORT CREVE*CCEUR.

On the record of thy years
Abram Lincoln's name appears,
Grant and Logan and our tears,
Illinois, Illinois.

It would indeed be difficult to overdraw the story of the de-
, velopment of the Great West. La Salle's stand at Fort Creve-
Cceur opens a chapter whose close no one has hardihood enough
to forecast. Recent events foreshadow the growth in commercial
utility of the Illinois River until it becomes one of the great
highways of trade. If the spirit of our daring explorer ever
wander back, it would

note how much more L

marvellous have been Pjl

the changes during
the past seventy years
than during the cen-
tury and a half that
followed his first
visit to the spot.
This later growth
seemed to be stimu-
lated by the pent-up
energies of the inter-
vening years. Pre-
vious to 1830, how-
ever, the glimpses
of fitful life seen
here tell us of strug-
gles and patriotic
doings that later gave
Illinois permanent
place, in the nation's gratitude. In the Revolutionary War,
for example, the Royalists, holding Kaskaskia, Detroit, and
Vincennes, controlled the North-west. To dislodge them Il-
linois contributed two companies of soldiers commanded by
Captains McCarthy and Charleville the shamrock and the lily
transplanted to the banks of the Mississippi, yet waving vic-
torious, as thirty-five years before they had over the same foe
along the lazy Scheldt at Fontenoy ! In this same struggle
the services rendered to Colonel George Rogers Clark by Rev.
Father Gibault, of Illinois, were such as to merit public ac-
knowledgment in the legislature of Virginia in 1780. The

THE NEW CITY HALL.

FORT CREVE-C(EUR.

[April,

MONUMENT TO THE HEROIC DEAD OF THE CIVIL WAR.

monument recent-
ly dedicated at
Peoria by Presi-
dent McKinley is
a real work of art,
and it is Peoria's
deter m i n at i o n-
that at least the
sacred memories
of the heroic dead
of the Civil War
shall not wholly
perish.

In the track of
the early French
explorer there
came to the val-
ley of the Illinois
a mingling of na-
tionalities that, in
their present pros-
p e rit y, illustrate
"United we stand,
divided we fall."
Little wonder no
race claims mon-
o p o 1 y, for the
deep loam and
rich prairies seem
to say to all the
real kopjes upon
food wealth is the

earth, Come and partake. They are the
which America must rely for defence ; the
only permanent wealth of a nation.

Far and wide stretches a landscape that pastoral Pan and
the ancient vales of Thessaly might envy rich with tilth and
husbandry. The traveller's vision of June becomes the ripe
reality of October ; no longer the waving corn, but stalk droop-
ing heavy with autumn's ripening harvest. The State of Illinois
alone produces annually 247,000,000 bushels of corn ; it has
for export 115,000,000. Prosaic as these figures seem they
scarcely hint at the possibilities of the great cereal. Within the
very shadow of La Salle's landing-place, Peoria consumes in
her highwines and glucose alone 14,680,000 bushels annually.

i goo.]

FORT CREVE-CCEUR.

The newer uses of cellulose and velvril add to the value of the
crop. In truth, no one visiting the Corn Palace of October, 1899,
thought of the prosaic nature of figures in the artistic mural
decorations, all made of corn, which have been sent intact to the
Paris Exposition of this year. It is a long distance from Peoria
to Paris, yet surely the telepathy is unbroken from the spot
where La Salle, first of white men in the Western World, stood
and said, " Here let us build," to the capital of the land that
gave him birth and inspired him with faith enough to find
a soil now enriching all the earth.

The church, too, has had a growth steady and virile. In

THE SPALDING INSTITUTE.

the State where La Salle stopped at Creve-Cceur to gather up
the shreds of broken fortune, we number to-day upwards of a
million. In keeping with the phenomenal growth of Chicago has
been that of the church for whose pioneer life stand Marquette,
Hennepin, Rebourde, Membre, Allouez, Gravier, Marest, Charle-
voix, Rasle, Joliet, Tonti, La Salle. Chicago to-day has more
organized centres of religion parishes than any other city in
the world. The avowed resolution of its devoted metropolitan,
as expressed at the consecration of his auxiliary, furnishes the
key-note to its present vigorous and harmonious growth. If

g6 FORT CREVE-CCEUR. [April,

there be any suggestiveness in the spot where first in the dis-
covery of the Great West civilized life flashed its light, how-
ever brief, that will be borne out not only in the thriving
second city of Illinois, but symbolized in her chaste Gothic
cathedral, whose great uplifted arms cast falling shadows in
the golden sunlight of the long summer afternoons, as if to
bless the very spot where our ancestors first landed and took
hope again. And if one seek a proof of light and life less
material, surely there will be no disappointment in Peoria's
first prelate, whose luminous mind, in touch with all that has
been wrought; pleads always for " Education and the Higher
Life."

No monument yet marks the spot where La Salle and his
companions landed in January, 1680. The survey herewith sub-
mitted shows how rapidly time changes even the comparatively
new. The Fort year by year finds itself farther from shore.
The twentieth century will see it situated on the banks of the
great water-way from the Lakes to the Gulf. The era of trea-
suring our remote heroic past is upon us, and the sculptor has
yet a stimulating theme for his chisel. In the early future there
may be erected in enduring form a fitting monument to the
heroic explorer whose courage in battling with disappointments
furnishes a figure of heroic mould.

A CHEMICAL ROMANCE. 97

A CHEMICAL ROMANCE.

BY EDWARD F. GARESCHE.

rODEFROY VON RIEFELSTOFFEN was a
genius by lawful inheritance. His father, old
Herr Professor Von Riefelstoffen, had been a
savant of the deepest dye. He was of the old
Teuton stock, a member of a score of learned so-
cieties, a mine of curious erudition, and had carried his black
cap and glaring spectacles with honor through a hundred hard-
fought experiments. Losing his right hand in one of these, he
of a sudden bethought himself of his desolate state ; married a
wife, and was soon busily engaged in drilling into the head of
a youthful Von Riefelstoffen the elements of scientific lore.

Behold, then, young Godefroy, a very miniature of his sire,
saving the cap and spectacles, toiling up the steep and arid
slope of the hill of Knowledge. He showed himself a worthy
son of the Herr Professor. When other lads were busily en-
gaged with whipping tops and flying kites, he was beginning to
feel on terms of intimacy with old Homer and to look on Marcus
Aurelius as a prosy old melancholiac. But chemistry was his
great preference. He would pore for days over steaming cruci-
bles, and dream of nights of the compounds of mercury. Be-
ing arrived at the proper age, he went to Heidelberg, and often
did his amazed professors ejaculate in wonder, " Potz tauzend !
the youth is inspired," seeing how the difficulties of analysis,
and synthesis of knotty formulae and occult prescriptions, dis-
solved like magic before his studious eye and bulbous fore-
head. Withal he could be a right jovial youth when the beer
and pipes sent mingled and delightful savors eddying around
the board. The blooming frauleins cast many a coy and in-
terested glance toward him, as he strolled abroad among the
student walks or into the country surrounding ; yet, like ill-
aimed arrows, they failed to affect the even tenor of his scientific
course. Which was the more strange because, in truth, he was
a personable man, despite his long hair and short vision, being
a broad-chested, straight-backed, lithe-limbed youth, and fair
with a Teutonic fairness.

The good mothers of his social sphere found him wanting

VOL. LXXI. -7

98 A CHEMICAL ROMANCE. [April,

in no regard from their maternal standpoint. Yet he went his
way unscathed by all assaults upon his heart. And when one
day his sire, the Herr Professor, bethinking him of his own
long bachelorhood, and gazing on his comfortable spouse, re-
marked to his son : " Godefroy, it were well that thou wert
thinking of being wed, for a man unmarried is but half a
man," he .dutifully replied: " Yes, my father, but I am al-
ready wed." This remark had a most startling effect upon his
good parents. Albeit grown corpulent with age, they leapt
simultaneously from their chairs and gazed horror-stricken on
their beloved offspring. Godefroy, however, hastened to reas-
sure them, between puffs from his student's pipe. " Calm thy-
self, dear mother," said he, " and you, father, also. I did but
employ a metaphor. If I am wed, it is only to my beloved
chemistry, to whom I propose to remain constant all my life."
And as he uttered these daring words he looked with a vacant
gaze straight into the eyes of the fat little Dutch Cupid on the
clock above the mantel-piece.

So, impervious, he passed the days of his studenthood, and
arrived at last to that sorrowful yet exhilarating hour when
one sees for the last time the merry and rotund faces of his
fellows under the student caps, sings the old traditional songs
of parting, drinks beer unmeasured, swallows oceans of com-
fortable smoke, and wakes the next morning with a feeling
of present discomfort, and a confused but ecstatic memory of
the events of the evening before.

Some two weeks after that happy occasion, as Godefroy re-
posed in his father's laboratory, in the luxury of pipe and
slippers, his thoughts agreeably divided between the sonorous
refrain of " Ubi sunt qui ante nos " and the bubbling of a re-
tort which seethed on the brazier, there sounded of a sudden
a loud and emphatic knock on the outer door. Now, although
Godefroy was as unemotional a youth as ever one could desire,
and though he knew as well as I who tell this tale that it
could be no one else than good old Gretchen with the diurnal
mail, yet it rapped out so sharp and startling that it stirred
his soul like the call of fate. He sprang from his seat, threw
open the'door, startled old Gretchen out of that small remain-
der of breath that the long stairs had left her, and took from
her outstretched hand a letter. Externally it was the most
prosaic, matter-of-fact, unpromising of letters; addressed to Mr.
Godefrojr von Riefelstoffen, Number so and so, Berlin, stamped
with an American stamp, and sealed with a great lump of

A CHEMICAL ROMANCE. 99

solemn black sealing-wax. Yet Godefroy opened it with emo-
tion, and unfolded a letter in matter and form as follows :

DEAR SIR: NEW YORK, May 2, 187

From my friend, Professor Von Schwarthingen, to whom I
wrote for advice, I have learned that you are a recent gradu-
ate of Heidelberg, a proficient chemist, and a young man of
promise. To such a young man I make the following proposi-
tion. Come to America and take charge of the chemical part
of a silver mill, which I propose to set on foot in Nevada. I
will pay you fairly, you may return in two years, and Nevada
is, from all accounts, a perfect laboratory of nature, where a
chemist who loves his art may find endless scope for discovery
and development. If you desire to accept, start at once for New
York by the mail packet, and I will meet you at the wharf.
I desire a chemist of your skill, because I never run any avoid-
able chances of failure. Commend me to your esteemed father,
whom I knew when I studied at Heidelberg.

Your obedient servant, JOHN MARDAYNE.

He remained, his eyes staring at the sheet. It was as
though one should find, in a yellow envelope, written in a
business-like way, an invitation to come and dwell in the
" Elysian fields." " Take charge of a silver mill in Nevada a
perfect laboratory of nature, endless scope for discovery and
development."

He gazed out at the window, as if in a dream. What a
stroke of fortune ! No, it was the reward of Heaven for his
labor. What would his classmates say? He laughed to think
that only yesterday he had envied yes, actually envied ! Karl
Reitermann, whose uncle, the brewer, had placed him in his
great brewery in Hamburg. Ho ! ho ! It was Karl's turn to
envy now. Then he grew suddenly grave. He had remem-
bered that he must leave the good father and mother, and the
Vaterland, and go over seas to a new and different land. He
could speak English happy learning ! though it had cost him
dear. But the Herr Professor grew old, and the mother his
reverie grew deeper. He recked not that the liquid in the
still bubbled and bubbled until only a white sediment re-
mained, which the glass, breaking under the heat, presently
scattered, with a faint tinkle, over the table. He did not see
the long shadow of the old cathedral creep across the street ;
he did not hear the Angelus which tolled from the Catholic
chapel near. The bonds of time were loosened to his thought ;

ioo A CHEMICAL ROMANCE. [April,

he had already returned to Germany laden with scientific
spoils, he was again at Heidelberg; but it was as a Herr Pro-
fessor he mounted the rostrum and looked down at a sea of
admiring faces. The first words of his lecture on the " Chemi-
cal Wonders of America " were on his lips

" Ach, Himmel!" said his father, throwing the door wide
open, "but it grows chilly without." Then, as he spied the
broken glass, he stared in wonder. But Godefroy allowed him
but little time for wonder. " Read," said he, and handed him
the letter. The professor read ; with true Teutonic delibera-
tion he carefully wiped his spectacles, sighed and read it
over again. Then, fixing his eyes on his son, he sighed again
more deeply. " Godefroy," he said, " it is a grand oppor-
tunity."

They talked long and earnestly. The Herr Professor re-
membered Mardayne as a youth, when he himself was tutor in
the university. He was a typical man of America industri-
ous, sagacious, but fearfully and rashly enterprising. He re-
membered that at one time he had in the course of a lecture
remarked that there was a certain experiment as yet untried,
since it was sure death to attempt it. Mardayne hastened
from the room, and in the dead of night a fearful crash re-
sounded from his lodgings. He had tried it and he lived ; but
his eyebrows, his hair, his pretty beard suffered woefully !
But this Nevada echoes of its mineral richness, its plains of
borax and of salt, of soda and of potash, its mines of metals,
its fields strewn with agates, its overflowing and unsounded
wealth, had drifted over even to Heidelberg to Berlin. Only
its vastness, its appalling distances, its remoteness from all
civilized contrivances, made it difficult of development.

" But," said the professor solemnly, "it is the land of young
men. At your age I should have suffered nothing to restrain
me from those virgin fields of my art."

" Nor will I, my father," said Godefroy. " To-night we will
visit Professor Von Schwarthingen, and if his account be as
favorable as I hope, to-morrow will behold me preparing to set
out for America! "

By good fortune Professor Von Schwarthingen was then in
Berlin. To Godefroy's questions he made right hearty answer.
Mardayne was one of the most solid, most important, and
most influential citizens of New York. He had recommended
his young friend to him with much pleasure, because he knew
it would be an excellent field for his so well known enthusiasm

i goo.] A CHEMICAL ROMANCE. 101

and industry. Godefroy, as his speech progressed, smiled
broadly. The Herr Professor blew his nose violently to con-
ceal his joyful emotion. They returned home rejoicing. And
a week from that day having, with his good mother's tearful
aid, stowed his belongings in a tight, black travelling chest,
and taken leave of his parents with many dutiful phrases and
some secret tears, he tucked his letter of credit safely away
in his purse, and departed by rail to take ship for New
York.

Two weeks thereafter, some hours after the German mail
had been sighted off Sandy Hook, there strolled, with energetic
step, up and down its pier at New York, a somewhat stout
and elderly gentleman who, to judge from the sharp glances
he cast in the direction of the harbor, was expecting some one
by the German boat. He was in appearance and indeed every
inch a man of business. Not in the vulgar and humdrum sense
that the word has taken, but a' man of energy, of resource,
and of determination ; one of those courageous, strong-willed,
and enterprising characters who have triumphed as much, and
with as beneficial results, in the wars of commerce as have
their brother Americans in the wars of powder and steel. Ex-
ternally he was of medium height, straight, broad, and portly.
Presently the ship for which he waited drew up to the pier,
the gang-plank descended, and the travellers rushed down it,
eager to set foot on firm land again.

John Mardayne surveyed them with an amused and ob-
servant eye. Finally he fixed upon one, a tall, fair-haired
youth, who strolled leisurely down to the wharf, glancing
around with interest at the new world he was just arrived in.
Mr. Mardayne walked forward, and as their paths crossed,
"Mr. Von Riefelstoffen ? " said he; "Mr. Mardayne?" inquired
Godefroy in turn, and they clasped hands heartily. As they
walked up into the city Mardayne set himself to gauge the
character of his new employee, and found him much to his
liking.

When they had reached the old Astor House and Gode-
froy had written in a bold hand, on the register, " Godefroy
von Rieffelstoffen, Berlin," Mardayne took him into a private
parlor of the hostelry and unfolded his plans for the expedi-
tion to Nevada.

"You must know, Mr. Von Rieffelstoffen," said he, "that
I have an only daughter, whose mother died when she was
but twelve years old, and whom, as you may easily believe, I

102 A CHEMICAL ROMANCE. [April,

love more than anything else in the world. Some three years
ago I took her to Paris, and left her to be educated by the
good Sisters of the Sacred Heart. She returned, much im-
proved in everything but, alas ! in health. The air of France
had not agreed with her; she had grown pale, and the doc-
tors assured me that nothing would be as beneficial to restore
her health as a trip to some of our Western States a change
to the exhilarating air of the plains. It is an old habit of
mine never to lose an opportunity to mingle business with
pleasure in fact, I have long found my chief pleasure in busi-
ness and I cast about, therefore, for some enterprise which
might employ me while my daughter enjoyed the climate and
the purer air. With us, of late, nothing has been so much
talked of and heralded abroad as the healthfulness, the rich-
ness, and the opportunities of Nevada. I resolved, therefore,
after some thought and a great deal of inquiry, to establish a
silver-refining plant out in the wilderness. For, though the
mines are rich, their great distance from the mills, and the
difficulty of transporting the ore, make them hardly worth
working. We will take a force of men with us to assist in
the erection of the machinery which we must carry along. It
will be a fearful task to transport such heavy burdens through
a country wholly without roads, and, as I tell Diana, she will
be almost as serious an encumbrance as all the other baggage
combined. However, courage and resolution, which have re-
moved mountains, are certainly adequate to the moving of a
woman and a silver mill, even to the heart of Nevada."

Godefroy laughed a most hearty and Germanic laugh, and-
Mardayne, rising, resumed : " Come home with me and I shall
introduce you to Miss Mardayne ; we will leave a week from
to-day." They mounted one of the lumbering vehicles of the
time, and soon drew up before the respectable mansion of
John Mardayne.

Some quarter of an hour afterwards Godefroy was bowing
low before Miss Diana Mardayne.

The summer sun beat furiously down at Silver Mill, Nevada.
In a depression between two lofty ridges a line of rude, yel-
low sheds, built of rough sawn boards, nestled incongruously.
In the rear of the sheds, and stretching down the valley, a
pile of dark-colored debris was already growing by wheel-
barrowfuls. From a large shed in the centre came puffs of
black smoke, and the dull thump and thud of a mighty ham-

1900.] A CHEMICAL ROMANCE. 103

mer, crushing the ore. Some hundred yards away a neater
and more carefully built structure, with glazed windows and an
adobe chimney, bore the legend painted across the door-top,
"Laboratory and Office."

Within the latter building, in a room whose peculiar fur-
nishing at once proclaimed it a chemist's den, stood our friend
Godefroy. But what would the good Frau Von Riefelstoffen
have said could she have beheld her son ? His face was as
brown as a berry, his form was clothed, but not adorned, by
a rough flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and
a pair of leather trousers and mighty boots. A three months'
growth of beard curled around his throat, and his muscular
neck and arms were tinted with the mahogany of sunburn.
He leaned over a broad table, busily engaged with test-tube
and filter. Without, the landscape shimmered with dry, in-
tense heat.

"Ach, Gott ! " said Godefroy, between his teeth, as he
poured a liquid from tube to tube, "what would the father
say if it were true ? A new and better means of extracting
silver, twice as productive, ten times as quick my discovery !
It would be the happiest day of his life ; and I I will t>e
rich; and Mardayne, too. Ho! ho! how he will rejoice ! For
this confounded mill, as we are working now, is barely paying
expenses, despite his efforts and the mines are closing. And
Di Miss Mardayne ! Confound it, why am I always thinking
of Miss Mardayne ! But Himmel, what a girl ! However, this
discovery will tie me to my beloved chemistry more than ever
before."

His reverie was suddenly interrupted. From the upper end
of the valley came the regular, rapid beat of a galloping
horse's feet. Godefroy 's face lit up wonderfully. " Miss Diana,"
said he. Soon, at the upper end of the road that the ore
carts had worn down the valley, came a flying pair. A girl of
twenty summers, her habit waving in the wind, and a sturdy
bay pony, that swung along as though he enjoyed it hugely.
The rider looked as little as possible like the pale young lady
who had ridden that way for the first time three months be-
fore. Her lithe form was full and strong, her cheeks a "de-
lightful conflict of red and brown," as Godefroy expressed it,
and her voice rang clear as a bell as, reining in her steed, she
called out: "How goes the experiment, Master Chemist?"

Godefroy grinned broadly. "As well as possible, Miss
Diana," said he. " Many thanks for your interest."

104 A CHEMICAL ROMANCE. [April,

" It is papa's interest," said she ; " he would have me ride
over in this broiling sun to inquire when the results would
begin to appear? "

" I hope to finish this evening," said he ; " if you would
like to witness the final process, I shall begin it at about four.
I would feel, Miss Diana, that your presence would, ah be
propitious ah, to its final sue success ! "

She looked at him in wonder, as indeed she might, for, in-
different as the compliment was, it was the first that had ever
passed his lips. Then, turning her steed homewards, she bade
him good-by and galloped away.

Godefroy mused silently. Then he said : " I believe that I
have fallen in love." He made this remark in much the same
tone that one might s*ay : " I believe that I have slain my
brother ! "

Some moments afterwards a broad and tattered hat came in
at the window, and a hoarse voice remarked : " Mr. Reeves, the
spring has dried up."

"Well," said Godefroy, "go down to Mr. Mardayne's and
get some water."

"Been there," answered the voice ; " their spring *s dried up
too."

" The stream in the gulch ? " said Godefroy, with a tinge of
anxiety.

" Been dry for two days."

" Great heavens, man ! get out a team, take the water-tank
and haul some from the rocky pool down Bingham's way."
The hat disappeared at once.

" Stop," said Godefroy ; " how long will it take you ? "

" Six hours at least, sir," said the voice, diminishing in the
distance.

Godefroy sat down on a stool and clasped his hands to his
head. Six hours ! and in two hours he must have water or
the experiment would fail. He looked at the vessel in which
the liquid was slowly bubbling over an alcohol lamp. He
rushed to the rear of his building and peered into his water
jar; it held some six drops of tepid water. He snatched up a
hat and ran down to the spring. It was dry and a pony was
just nosing in the moist sand for the last drops of coolness.
He caught the pony by the hanging strap of his tether, and
mounting him, steered him for the Mardayne abode. It was a
mile and *a half away, a broad, one-story building, with a deep
veranda. The spring usually bubbled up just at the corner of

1 900.] A CHEMICAL ROMANCE. 105

the porch, and he leapt off his horse and ran to look at it. It
was, being on a hill, rather drier than the other.

He rushed up to the front steps and rapped on the door ;
whereat Miss Diana, who had seen part of his strange pro-
ceedings from a window, came tripping to open it.

" Have you any water ? " said Godefroy, looking into her
eyes in such a longing fashion that she blushed.

" Not a drop," said she. " Papa has just sent James with a
barrel to get some from the rocky pool."

" Not a drop," echoed Mardayne, coming out from a side room,
fanning vigorously. ** I told that confounded old fool, Bowles, to
haul some from the rocky pool ; but he forgot it, and so did I un-
til our whole supply ran out. I have some splendid liquor here,
though, Reeves ; if you are thirsty come in and join me in a glass."

"Thirsty!" cried Reeves; "I could bear thirst, but if I do
not obtain by some means a quart of pure water before five
o'clock this afternoon MY EXPERIMENT WILL FAIL ! "

Mardayne looked amazed. "That will, be unfortunate,"
said he ; " but, heavens, man ! it is only a question of losing
five days or so of work, and some material ; begin it over
again. ' If at first you do n't succeed/ you know "

Godefroy groaned. This man was not a chemist ; he had
no sympathy in his soul ; he could not understand the fearful
pain of seeing a promising, nay, an almost certainly successful,
experiment fail at the very moment of accomplishment ! He
groaned again. No one who had not felt the keen interest
of it the zest ; the expectation

" Mr. Reeves," said Diana, " I am so sorry ! " He looked
up. Her eyes were actually filled with tears.

"God bless you, Miss Diana!" said he; "but isn't there
any water in the house ? "

They went together to the dining-room ; the vessels were
all empty. They went to the adobe kitchen, it was hopelessly
destitute of water " even of soda water," said Diana, looking
mournfully at a bottle which had once contained that delight-
ful beverage.

" Soda water would serve," said Godefroy ; " I might dis-
til it, you know ; there would still be time."

His sorrow was somewhat lightened now that he felt the
sweet balm of sympathy. She sympathized with him. He
looked at her tenderly. But she was looking out of the kitchen
door, looking with a sort of delight which, being so incongru-
ous, rather pained him.

io6 A CHEMICAL ROMANCE. [April,

Could she see water? He followed her gaze, but it rested
merely on the dry, baked prairie, shimmering in the sun. Far
away to the very horizon's brink the desolate, parched plain ;
and, near at hand, only the stables, and her water-melon
patch. Could she be looking at that water-melon patch ? The
thought had scarcely shaped itself in his mind when she turned
towards him ; her sweet eyes sparkled, her dear cheeks flushed.
" My water-melon ! " said she.

"O Miss Mardayne," he murmured " Diana !" For be it
known that water-melon was the pride and joy of her heart.
Mardayne had teased her to no end when she timidly pro-
duced a package of water-melon seeds that her old nurse had
sent her, " from away down in Georgia," to comfort her in
that far-off land. The tiny seedlings, breathed on by that
strange, dry air, had died, one by one, despite her careful
nursing. Only one had thriven, watered every day, and they
could see the single great melon which it had borne shining,
like a round green boulder, on the plain. She had dreamed,
oh! many a time, and planned how she should at last enjoy
that tangible memory of home !

With the proverbial thoughtlessness of his sex, Godefroy
accepted the sacrifice. They went down to the patch together,
and he lifted the splendid melon from its bed in the sandy
soil. Gayly they bore it together around to the front, where
his pony grazed on the lawn, and affixed it to that patient
animal by means of a bag and some saddle-thongs.

Mardayne looked at them from the porch with a soft ex-
pression in his eyes. He knew how his daughter had valued
that precious melon. " Well," he said to himself, as he
watched them going down the road, one on each side, guard-
ing the pony's precious burden, " he 's a good fellow, a splendid
fellow. But what enthusiasm ! what enthusiasm ! He 's caught
the spirit of the country."

They did not talk very much on the way to the mills.
They were each busy with their own thoughts. Godefroy was
trying to still a strange, fluttering emotion which his strong
Teutonic heart had never felt before. Diana was thinking but
who can portray a woman's thoughts?

They gained the laboratory and bore the melon in in
triumph. He split it with a single stroke, and the sap dripped
from its pale and watery heart. He scooped out huge pieces
of it, and squeezed them into a gallon retort, until it was half
full of green, murky juice ; he placed a lamp beneath, led the

IQOO.] A CHEMICAL ROMANCE. 107

neck of the retort into a still, and then waited. Drop, drop,
drop, the clear and limpid water flowed from the mouth of
the still. Drop by drop the flask filled with aqua pura. By the
time that the amber liquor, which for four hours had seethed
and bubbled in the vessel, had reached the point of precipita-
tion, as the old alchemists would have called it, a quart of
sparkling water shimmered in the flask. Breathlessly he took
the vessel from the fire, breathlessly poured in the watery
treasure, when behold ! as the clear water eddied down into
the viscid solution, a perfect shower of black, infinitesimal
specks disengaged themselves from the fluid and floated down
to the bottom. Godefroy stirred the mixture, and it became
as black as ink. He turned it upon a filter, and the liquor,
seeping through, left a black, thick precipitate upon the sheet.
Radiant with joy, he turned to see Diana in tears!

" Oh," said she, " the horrid black stuff ; and it is a
failure ! "

"Failure! A most brilliant success!" said Godefroy ; and
shaking some of the precipitate upon a crucible, he held it in
the flame of the lamp. The black powder, melting together,
glowed with silvery lustre. " A brilliant success ; and you, you
have brought it about. You are worthy to be the wife of a
chemist!"

This lofty compliment brought a deepened blush to Miss
Diana's features. " Ah," said Godefroy, " I love you ; you have
been my guardian angel. I owe my success to you. Will you
will you share it with me ? "

He trembled, the beaded sweat stood on his forehead ; that
was indeed a violent and terrible revolution which had turned
him, in so brief a time, from misogynist into lover ; and to tell
the truth, he was afraid. His ideas were turned awry ; he
feared, he expected, a repulse from this glorious, this inesti-
mable woman ! He anticipated her wrath. But she merely
looked at him, and then put her hand in his.

With what fervor he kissed it, with what joy they went
back to her home together, I need not tell. He thought no
more of his experiment that day, until the maiden aunt who
"kept house" for Mardayne suggested that it was time to be
abed. Then he went back to ^ his deserted office and worked
at the technical description of' "Von Riefelstoffen's new pro-
cess " ; while from her window Diana smiled, through happy
tears, at the lonely water-melon patch, shorn of its only glory.

Shall I continue, and tell that by virtue of Von Riefelstof-

io8 A CHEMICAL ROMANCE. [April.

fen's process that silver mill won final success, while many a
similar enterprise had failed utterly, and left the bleak planks
of its abandoned buildings to rot slowly in the dry air of
Nevada? Or how, for ten years, Mr. and Mrs. Von Riefel-
stoffen wandered over the land, now at Yellowstone Park, now
at the mines of Illinois, on scientific missions bent? Or how
some little Godefroys and Dianas distracted the sweet sym-
pathy of Mrs. Diana from chemistry to its kindred science
experimental biology? Or how, grown rich with royalties and
wise with explorationary lore, Godefroy and his little world,
when John Mardayne had retired, crossed the ocean once
again to the Vaterland, to Berlin, to the intense delight of
the good Herr Professor, who had vibrated uneasily between
the two continents since his son's greatness had begun?
But there is one scene that I would dwell on in parting.

It is the month of September. The scholastic year at
Heidelberg is just beginning. The great chemist, Herr Profes-
sor Von RierTelstoffen, is to deliver to-day the first lecture of
his course. Throngs of celebrities, savants, scientists, have
come out by the morning train to Heidelberg to hear the
great man's opening speech. As the hour of two approaches
a mob of students, of all classes, pours into the auditorium.
Reporters and under professors are there with their note-
books ; finally the crowd of visitors swarms in. In the midst
of the hum and buzz of conversation and of expectation the
great bell tolls the hour of two. In a sudden hush the mur-
mur of the multitude dies in an instant. Out to the ros-
trum, his broad breast covered with the tributes of many lands
and many societies, strides our friend Godefroy ; nay, pardon
the Herr Professor ! A roar of applause, of cheers, of student
salutations, makes the auditorium tremble. Men famed in
scientific circles yell undignifiedly in greeting. But the great
man looks above their heads to where, in a secluded corner,
Diana sits smiling and joyful on one side the old Herr Pro
fessor, smiling too, through misty spectacles ; on the other,
John Mardayne, setting the vibrant air a-tremble with the
strokes of his heavy cane. Then, clearing his throat, the great
man begins his famous lecture on " The 'Chemical Wonders of
America."

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i lo IMMIGRATION AS IT HAS BEEN. [April,

IMMIGRATION AS IT HAS BEEN.*

'HE sixteenth annual report of the Bureau of
Labor Statistics for New York contains a his-
tory, in outline, of the immigration which en-
tered that port from the year 1613 up to the
year 1898. Though the details are necessarily
meagre, we find a few leading facts projected in very strong
colors on the scene. There are the evidences of inconceivable
suffering undergone by immigrants until far into the century
just closed, the brutality of persons in any way engaged in the
traffic, and the condition of things in the countries of the old
world which did not prevent immigrants from risking conse-
quences to which the perils of the deep in the wretched ves-
sels of former days were a mere bagatelle. This last considera-
tion is the severest condemnation which can be pronounced on
European governments.

It looks as if those states had no concern for numbers of
their population. What became of them was of no moment.
They were an incubus on the land except in times of war,
when possibly they might serve as food for powder. In peace-
ful times they contributed little directly to the revenue, indi-
rectly they must have contributed far more than their share,
because there were taxes on the necessaries of life. A for-
eigner on a visit to an Irish wit exclaimed : " How pure and
balmy is the air in this place ! " " Let no one hear you say
that," rejoined his host; "if you do, the English will tax it."
This is an illustration of the searching nature of the taxatiojn
which wars and the pomp of courts imposed on the principal
states of Europe. The facts stated in the report of the bureau
bring this phase of oppression of the poor in Europe more
sharply to the mind than the wildest utterance of the dema-
gogue, or even the madness of the unhappy sufferers flinging
their unarmed hands against the gates of power.

The outrages and cruelties practised by owners and masters
of vessels would be incredible if not pla'ced beyond denial by
public records. The immigrants were sold at auction, and this

* Sixtqfnth Annual Report of the Bureau of Labor Statistics of the State of New York for
the Year iSg8. Transmitted to the Legislature January 23, 1899. John McMackin, Commis-

1900.] IMMIGRATION AS IT HAS BEEN. in

came down to a comparatively late period, namely, 1819, in
Philadelphia. This bare statement would of itself suggest the
information supplied by documents. If the immigrants were
practically slaves to be sold at the port of debarkation, it does
not need a very high degree of penetration to estimate the
regard for them during the voyage. Even if they had been
well-to-do, and had shipped unfettered by any condition, there
was nothing or little to be feared by a ship-master for any in-
justice or injury he might' choose to inflict. He was an auto-
crat on board ; he could construe what he thought into mutiny.
Irons in the hold would tame the spirit of the stoutest passen-
ger. But we are informed that in the eighteenth century the
vast majority of immigrants were so poor that they could not
pay the passage-money. They were taken on board, however,
and when they reached America they were sold to pay for the
passage and such advances as might have been made.

No one in England, Ireland, France, or Germany seemed
aware of this. It does not seem to have occurred to public
authorities in any of these countries that the benevolence of
ship-owners was amazing. We are told by Mr. Kapp, State
Commissioner of Emigration in 1869, that ship-owners and
ship-merchants derived enormous profits from the sale of im-
migrants. The rates for passage were very high, he tells us,
and a hundred per cent, was added for risk. In other words,
the passage itself stood at an insurance figure, and in addition
an insurance equal to that figure. And yet European powers
have whole peoples of the quality of those poor immigrants
armed in their service. It is not easy reading unless one pre-
pares for it by submitting to an exceptionally exhausting pro-
cess of phlebotomy.

Mr. Kapp, as though speaking of the sections of an iceberg,
informs us that " old people, widows, and cripples would not
sell well, while healthy parents with healthy children, and
young people of both sexes, always found a ready market."
These were all white men, women, and children. Mr. Kipling
ought to transfer his sympathies to the African who bore the
burden in the Southern States. Only he had done so, it is im-
possible to calculate the number of passages afforded by bene-
volent ship-owners on the generous conditions pointed out
above.

The system was beautifully adjusted ; we cannot help think-
ing Mr. Kapp looks upon it with a loving eye. It is scientifi-
cally perfect, a marvel of economic fitness. " If the parents

ii2 IMMIGRATION AS IT HAS BEEN. [April,

were too old to work, their children had to serve so much
longer to make up the difference." In lucid moments of classi-
cal pagan philosophy the proposition was advanced that chil-
dren should be obliged to support their parents. The Jewish
dispensation made the obligation a reality. The same duty was
enforced in one or two of the unclassicai pagan codes ; the
law of charity enunciated by our Lord has enforced it by a
sanction irresistible and universal. Failing to perform it is a
sin. So we have systems and laws, human and divine, antici-
pating and confirming this provision of the ship-owner.

We remember reading of instances of sagacious cruelty.
The mother who refused to offer incense to an idol would not be
sentenced to the red-hot iron or the flaming wood at least just
yet but she would hear a doom passed upon her young daugh-
ter more terrible than the burning fagot or the hissing metal.
Sons have been scourged before their fathers' eyes to lacerate
the parents' affections 'as^ no torture could rend nerve and
sinew, but those representatives of British commerce could give
an application that philosophy or religion had not dreamt of,
add a sting to motive that the craft of politic tyrants had not
devised.

But this is not all. " When one or both parents died on
the voyage their children had to serve for them," by a species
of Protestant after-life atonement as novel in benefit as in con-
ception. It was a maxim of English law that death discharged
personal debts. The seizing of a dead body for debt was an
expedient of sheriffs or their deputies without authority in law
or sense. We believe that fine scenes in novels turned on this
so-called right to levy execution on the poor remains of mor-
tality, but the British ship-owner knew as well as Shylock that
human flesh was not good as " beeves and muttons."

We think the subject sickening, but we will not refrain
from adding another provision or two. The honor of the
English merchant, the free-handed liberality of that sturdy
type of what is wisest and strongest in the superlatively excel-
lent Anglo-Saxon race, all this and more demand the tribute
at our hands. Again wecall Mr. Kapp to give testimony to
character : " The expenses for the whole family were summed
up and charged upon the survivor or survivors." There is a
touch of the ingenious covetousness of Mr. Warren Hastings'
way of dealing with the begums, the princes, and the people
of India in this provision. A man was emancipated the mo-
ment he touched the deck of a British vessel. The soil of

1 900.] IMMIGRA TION AS IT HAS BEEN. 1 1 3

Britain is incompatible with slavery, was the dictum in the
case of a fugitive African who landed in England from America.
In America this African was a chattel at the time ; but the
King's Bench held that he was free the moment he touched
the British shore. America was at the time part of the pos-
sessions of England, and on the surface one would see there
was nothing more than a question of jurisdiction, that the
English court had no jurisdiction over the property, that the
chattel should be dealt with by the court of the local venue.
The King's Bench rose to the occasion. Somerset was a
man, and not goods ; and as though there was something
sacred in the soil, the chains fell from around him when he
touched it ; as though there was a free spirit in the very at-
mosphere itself, the moment he breathed it his soul expanded
to the dignity of his master's.

But though great lawyers apply constitutional principles with
philosophical loftiness and breadth, there is a class of mind
whose cunning ferocity and greed will evade them. The deck
of a British vessel is the soil of Britain, but the moment the
immigrant of the old days stepped upon it he became a slave.
True he was permitted to bind himself for a term of years,
under certain penalties, by an indenture of apprenticeship, but
he could not bind himself for life ; he could sell his labor
under stringent conditions, but he had no power to give an
estate of freehold in himself to any one. The African was
only a chattel sold by one owner to another; the indentured
servant simply engaged himself in a contract of hiring. Yet
the covenant making him liable for the work due by all his
family virtually constituted him a slave foT his life, a slave as
absolutely and helplessly as the negro.

We cannot proceed with this disgusting history ; we shall
conclude our extracts from Mr. Kapp with this one, which
condenses the iniquity of the institution into a few words : " It
was a daily occurrence that whole families were separated for
ever."

The successful termination of the War of Independence
attracted the oppressed people of Ireland, England, Scotland,
France, and Germany. There was a check during the Napo-
leonic wars, owing to the blockade of European and English
ports. In 1811 commerce between the United States and
France was resumed, with the result that American vessels
were seized by the British cruisers. The war in consequence
lasted until 1815. Peace was established, but a very interesting
VOL. LXXI. 8

ii4 IMMIGRATION AS IT HAS BEEN. [April.

souvenir of the feeling stirred in England at the time is pre-
served in an act of Parliament passed in 1816. Vessels sailing
to the United States were allowed to carry one passenger for
every five tons, but vessels sailing to other countries were en-
abled to convey one passenger for every two tons. This, we
think, supplies a curious instance of maternal love on the part
of what we hear called the mother-country ; and we appreciate
the manly feeling of the writer of the paper in not omitting it
through deference to the servility of fashionable people here
and the convenient professions of relationship on the part of
the superior people on the other side.

There are admirable paragraphs on the dishonesty of board-
ing-house keepers and their agents in New York. The writer
does not hide the cruel frauds practised upon the poor for-
eigners by his own countrymen which rendered government
control necessary. He sets out with force the efforts of au-
thorities, both central and local, to protect the immigrants
against the knaves that pounced upon them when they landed
and hung about them until their last coin was extorted. There
was a great difficulty in reaching an effective method of pro-
tection, but at length patience, good-will, and an exceptionally
benevolent public spirit succeeded in accomplishing admirable
results.

We have been constrained by our limits from notice of
several interesting topics. It would appear that the State of
New York has been receiving an Irish influx for more than two
centuries. It began in 1698, a fact which leads us to suspect
that Jacobites must have been among the immigrants, if all of
the immigrants were not Jacobites.

THE clever and even brilliant style of the
writer forms a pleasant setting for the latest vol-
ume of studies in St. Paul.* Aiming at no exhaus-
tive consideration of Pauline theology, the author
runs through a series of striking characteristics in
St. Paul's personality, endeavoring to uphold them to modern
Christians as the right ideals for worship. The conception is
good, the treatment sympathetic, the language free and charm-
ing. There is evidence that the writer has been an apprecia-
tive student of Wordsworth, and one can trace between the
poet and himself a certain similarity of disposition.

While really satisfying, thoroughly Catholic, nobly ideal in
most of his eulogy of St. Paul's character, the writer is less
happy when he enters upon certain considerations of theologi-
cal drift. His " Charity before Faith " shows a decided lack of
synthetic grasp and a tendency to press theories rather far.
His view of the role of doctrinal definitions is all too loose and
uncertain to suit the reader whose church history is well fixed
in mind, and his conception of Ecclesiastical unity must be of
the haziest kind if he can view with complacency the so-called
unity attained by the efforts of the Church of England, or rather,
by those in that church who believe in the necessity of such a
thing. A shallow-minded sneer at the doctrine of Transubstan-
tiation ill befits the kindly, dignified, and temperate tone so
well preserved throughout the greater part of the volume.
That monastic institutions are a dictate of the highest Chris-
tian ambition, and that they alone can supply a deep social
need is the thought suggested to our mind by the very chap-
ter following that wherein the life of quiet prayer and the
contemplative vocation are frowned upon.

All in all the book will well repay its readers. It is no unwel-
come addition to that mass of literature gradually building up about
the marvellous character St. Paul surely one of the most won-
drous manifestations of the power of Christ to transform humanity.

* The Christianity of St. Paul. By S. A. Alexander. New York : Longmans, Green
& Co.

u6 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

A volume of conferences* on the Precious Blood of our
Divine Lord, written in fervent and devotional tone, and grace-
ful in style, forms no unwelcome addition to our sermon litera-
ture. The chapters devoted to the "Way of the Cross" and
" The Crucifixion," perhaps, stand out as superior to the others
in suggesting thoughts of real value for fervent meditation.
Thoroughly attractive and in no sense extravagant, the book
may be commended for bringing home with considerable vigor
some of the tremendous significance attaching to the mysteries
of the Divine Blood-shedding. In the main, the writer tells us,
the volume is made up of notes prepared for conferences to
the Confraternity of the Precious Blood, and gratefully acknow-
ledges his indebtedness to Father Faber's great work, with a
like title, written for the same society.

The Story-Books of Little Gidding \ has an historical sugges-
tiveness that is at once curious and significant. It gives a peep
into a happy and devout home-life under Elizabeth which dis-
closes much that is consoling in offset to the corruptions and
cruelties of the court. The family of Nicholas Ferrar, a man
of parts and of public station, Protestants of the new " Anglican
departure," but who, in the words of the ancient annals, " outdid
the severest monastics abroad," were accustomed as part of their
spiritual exercises to hold religious dialogues in the great hall
of Little Gidding. One after another of the company would
give some story from profane or sacred history, or some pious
legend that passed current for history, and draw therefrom les-
sons for the moral guidance of his or her audience there
assembled. The result of two years of this devout entertain-
ment is the book before us. There is in nearly all the stories
the Old-English quaintness, simplicity, and homely earnestness.
Naturally into a few of the dialogues have crept some of the
hobgoblin canards about the Catholic Church which were then
settling themselves into the folk-lore of England and building
up the fabric of the " great Protestant tradition " which is still
one of the ramparts of Nonconformists and rural Church-folk.
But, so far as our examination has gone, the book is remarka-
bly temperate in this respect much more so than one would
look for in the record of a family who listened at supper to
the reading of that monstrous imposition, the Book of Martyrs.
The history of the Ferrar family is stamped plainly with the

* The flood of the Lamb. By Kenelm Digby Best. London : Burns & Oates, limited ;
New York : Benziger Brothers.

t The Story-Books of Little Gidding; being the Religious Dialogues recited in the
Great Room, 1631-1632. From the original .manuscript of Nicholas Ferrar. New York :
E. P. Button & Co.

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 117

lingering memories of the ancient church. Their daily order
of devotions, their respect for God's word, their sacrifices to
attend public worship, their fasting and nightly vigils all these
have sad suggestions of the faith which had sanctified England
for a thousand years. We are here in the afterglow, and the
atmosphere is still warm after the sun of truth has set. But
we doubt not the book is not half so sombre in its lesson to
a Catholic as to a modern Anglican who affects the primitive
and apostolic in creed and custom. For its Catholic, almost
monastic spirit, is a portentous reproof to the present day Church
of England for having raised anchor from the ancient moor-
ings and embarked recklessly on the sea of change, of innova-
tion, and of compromise in doctrine, the end whereof is no
port of stable safety, but shipwreck irretrievable.

There is a grace about Mr. Mifflin's latest book* that
makes its title most appropriate. The sensuous beauty of the
original idylls adorns his lines, and the immortal music of the
Greek re-echoes in the choice and lovely phrasing with which
these pages abound. " Every bit as pagan as their prototypes,"
is the verdict of the reader as he reluctantly confesses real
admiration for what is so painfully and undisguisedly a mere
picture of external Nature, leaving out its Maker. One or two
less happy selections of words, and a rather unpleasant un-
certainty of rhyme, we might mention as marring the very
thorough beauty of these verses. Apart from that and the
disappointment occasioned by sudden and surprising rhymes in
the final lines for instance, matching the fourteenth at random
with any one of the preceding five nothing occurs to us as
likely to offset the great and evident excellence of the volume.

An account of the famous Jansenistic schools of the seven-
teenth century is given in a recent book f published by C. W.
Bardeen of Syracuse, the noted writer on educational topics.
Its method is the opposite ' of scientific, consisting chiefly
in the sketchiest sort of monographs, an abundance of peda-
gogical notiticz, and foot-notes which when not partisan and
sneering are empty and superfluous. Doubtless the school-
teacher can get some benefit from the regulations and sugges-
tions concerning child-study and class-management, but the
intelligent general reader who looks for a wide, liberal, philoso-
phic study of a question will find only disappointment and regret.

* Echoes of Greek Idylls. By Lloyd Mifflin. Boston and New York : Houghton, Mifflin
&Co.

t Port Royal Education. Edited by Felix Cadet, French Inspector-General of Public
Instruction. Syracuse, New York : C. W. Bardeen.

n8 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

Rather more metaphysical in character than any of his pre-
ceding volumes, Mr. Dresser's latest work* contains a con-
siderable amount of speculation not likely to interest the
ordinary reader, but scarcely up to the standard of genuine
philosophy. Still, the conceptions in general show an evident
disposition of mind toward sane speculation and the treatment
is no hazier than is necessitated by the consideration of matters
akin to cosmic emotion and studies in the ideal of a " zestfully
laboring Absolute." It is rather disheartening, however, to find
so much refined theorizing merely grouped about a curious
plan for annihilating physical disease.

From a religious stand-point the volume is promising in a
sense, but on the whole rather saddening. To see so much of
pure and high-minded aspiration mixed with wildly speculative
and utterly intangible solutions brings lasting regret that to
the author the Catholic religion is, as he confesses, as unknown
as are his glaciated speculations about the absolute incompre-
hensible to a peasant of the mountains. Were it otherwise, he
might come to understand that, excepting that most ex-
travagant and unwholesome license he demands for personal
opinion, nearly all that is positive and definite in his ideal
would find its best and sanest expression in the church of the
ages. He is quite wrong in imagining personal dignity to be a
modern growth superadded to the genuine concepts of Chris-
tian philosophy ; nor is the idea of religion as essentially a
personal matter between God and the soul a notion foreign to
Christian teaching. The value of spiritual ideals too, and the
profit derivable from meditation, from concentration of thought
and simplicity of mind, these are strange to no student of
Catholicity, as they existed centuries back. Tis she in her
dogmatic symmetry and solidity that can best correct the vague
and ineffectual dreams of shallow-minded prophets, reading the
future and blind to the actually present.

The attitude assumed in controverting Pantheism and the
Philosophy of the Unconditioned is good and cleverly sus-
tained. The writer's mental constitution seems to be not na-
turally biassed towards extravagant idealism, and though
tainted therewith, he signifies his disagreement with its extreme
positions. Indeed, in r any passages we read indications that
he is after all not far from the Kingdom of God. The lamp
of faith, may soon guide his feet unto that fuller knowledge at
which he is now so fruitlessly grasping.

* The Voices of Freedom. By Horatio W. Dresser. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.

IQOO.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 119

Every one knows just what to expect when the publishers
announce a volume from the real Alice in Wonderland. And
every one's expectations will be justified by the present charm-
ing little volume* outlining the story of one of the most
wonderful and famous of friendships. There is little to be
said in comment, for all know the writer of the three immortal
children's stories, Alice in Wonderland, Alice in the Looking- glass ',
and Hunting of the Snark, and to know him in that guise is to
have learned pretty much everything possible on the subject.
Still a little more information is a welcome treat. The sketch
just published is meant to do for the children what the
biography published last year has done for the " grown-ups."
It has all the quaint charm inseparable from its subject.
There is no attempt at literary polish or historical detail, but
we venture to say it will leave but one regret in the minds of
its child readers, namely, the regret that they did not share
in that strange friendship which proved so wonderful a privi-
lege to the real Alice.

For the French Lilies is the title of an interesting tale f re-
counting the adventures of a young Dauphinese, Marcel St.
Eymond, during the years 1511-12. His father, aged and blind,
about to enter a monastery to spend the remainder of his days
in preparation for death, leaves the young Marcel in the
charge of an uncle, a Milanese. Despite the opposition of his
uncle, who had his own evil schemes for the young man's
future, Marcel enlisted under the banner of Louis XII., in
the war against Pope Julius and his allies (the Spaniards and
Venetians), to fight " for the French Lilies." The war itself is
not discussed, the story dealing only with the young Marcel
and his adventures. The general plan of the story, the style
always pure and vivid the remarkable success in satisfactor-
ily picturing the scenes of action without entering into the
mass of details that characterize the larger historical novel,
and most of all, the wholesome Catholic spirit and tone that
prevails throughout the entire story, make it a first-class produc-
tion, and we strongly recommend it to the young Catholic reader.

Studies in Literature \ has for its direct purpose the delinea-
tion of what the author is pleased to call the sanctity of litera-
ture. He evinces great critical acumen, admirably blending a
knowledge of the ethical conditions that influence writers with

* The Story of Lewis Carroll. Told for young people by the real Alice in Wonderland,
Misslsa Bowman. New York: E. P. Dutton & Co.

t For the French Lilies. By Isabel Nixon Whiteley. St. Louis : B. Herder.
Studies in Literature. By Maurice Francis Egan. St. Louis : B. Herder.

i2o TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

faultless literary taste the primary qualifications of a critic.
Singularly appropriate is the phrase, for every true book should
breathe the atmosphere of " sanctity."

Rightly judging that this principle should be applied to all
literature, Mr. Egan makes it the standard of his criticism of
the authors noted in this volume of essays : " The poet, in
spite of himself, must be religious. Similarly the writer of
prose, though he may belong to a school which tries to ignore
things spiritual, must constantly encounter the grand fact of
Christianity, must recognize that Christian ideals have made
modern poetry what it is, for all poets have drawn their in-
spiration directly or indirectly from the sacred truths of re-
ligion. The sign of a great poet is his religious reverence for
women. It was reserved to the purest and the best form of
religion to offer the ideal woman to the worship of the world."
Again : " His theme may take the form of patriotism and seem
to leave out God, but the love of country must find God or
die. It may praise human love, but love must be tinged with
the divine or it cloys."

While this central thought, the " sanctity of literature,"
pervades and gives definiteness to all these essays, each is
complete in itself and possesses many individual excellences.

A brief and beautiful introduction to this little volume,* by
Cardinal Gibbons, opens to the reader's eye the inner motives of
the spiritual life, especially as developed in religious communities.

The story of the saintly young religious then follows, simply
and admirably told. Venerable Gabriel, born in the town of
Assisi, the birthplace of the great servant of God of the thir-
teenth century, was baptized in the same baptismal font as the
great St. Francis. He received his early education at the hands
of the Christian Brothers and later became a pupil of the Jesuits.

Though even as a young man he ascended to great heights
of sanctity, still in his earlier years he seems to have been but
a boy among boys, lively, giddy, foolish, by times studious and
dutiful. But, with all his love of amusement and his ardor and
impetuosity, he was open, candid to a fault, affectionate and
sympathetic, a generous and noble nature.

It was clear that his was a specially destined soul whose
bent, however it might be determined, would wield a powerful
influence. Happily he obeyed the inspiration that bade him
enter religion, and that transformation was effected in him
which fixed his career as a saint.

* Life of Venerable Gabriel, C.P. By Rev. Hyacinth Hage, C.P. Philadelphia: H. L.
Kilner & Co.

1 900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 121

Almost immediately the divine call became manifest in him,
so rapidly and so completely did he conform himself to the
way of perfection, and so thoroughly did he appreciate and
assimilate the maxims of the spiritual life. He threw himself
heart and soul into the spirit of his surroundings, and became
rapt in a desire " to walk attentively in the presence of God."
The headstrong temper that had characterized him as a youth
in the world how changed into a calm and resolute disposition
to follow after the highest perfection. There seemed to be no
virtue the fulness of which he did not possess; and the devo-
tions which to us are ordinary were all special to him, particu-
larly those of the Passion and of the Seven Dolors of Our
Lady. Constant fidelity to every manifestation of the divine
will, whether it came interiorly from the Holy Spirit, or ex-
teriorly from his rule and the wishes of his superiors, marked
his progress in the way of perfection, sanctifying his life and
making it the joy and edification of his brothers. Unfor-
tunately we are deprived of a more complete record of
Gabriel's interior life by the destruction, at his own request, of
his memoranda of the graces and benefits bestowed on him.
Gabriel died a most holy death in the year 1862, without hav-
ing finished his studies for the priesthood.

Since the process of his beatification, begun in 1892, many
well authenticated miracles have taken place at his tomb, which
has become a place of pilgrimage to those who venerate the
blessed memory of the humble Passionist.

The Blue Jackets of 1898* is a complete and well-written
account of our own side of the Spanish-American War. From
the text of the book one learns that it was meant to be a
history, but the general tenor of the work is such as really to
exclude it from the ranks of that class of literature. The
mind of a true historian must have a strongly judicial cast ;
it studies and states with patient, exhaustive diligence both
sides of every quarrel and dispute, following up to the end
every hint and clue that tends to shape final decision. It
steadily endeavors to lay aside impulse, passion, and prepos-
sessions, that reason may have full and undisturbed sway in
balancing evidence and in giving judgment.

That the author of the work in question has fallen some-
what short of attaining these high but just requirements is un
doubted. Still it is not matter for surprise or for blame. In-
deed, the war with all th.e crimes and blunders that led up to

* Blue Jackets of iSqS. By Willis J. Abbot. New York : Dodd, Mead & Co.

122 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

it, together with their most unworthy accompaniment, a vast
amount of hasty, prejudiced scribbling and babbling about
Spanish character, are not yet far enough off to be easily
marked down to their true value. Apart from this slight criti-
cism, which aims merely at pointing out the unhistorical char-
acter of the book, we take pleasure in recommending it as
interesting and enjoyable.

Supernatural manifestations in the lives of the saints are
considered in directly opposite ways by Catholics and non-
Catholics. By those enjoying the light of the faith it is recog-
nized that genuine miracles, while they are the evidences of
undoubted sanctity, are merely accidental, though very logical,
accompaniments of an unusual conformity of the human will
to God's. By those without the church, on the other hand,
these extraordinary phenomena have long been considered the
dominating characteristic of sanctity. To the Catholic the
saint remains a saint, and his sanctity is unimpeached in spite
of strained, plausible, or demonstrable scientific theories of
second-sight, telepathy, hallucination, and suggestion. The
church has always taught that the exercise of preternatural
powers may be common to saints and sinners alike, and for
that reason her process for canonization is bound by stricter
rules of evidence than any. civil court, but to ascribe all such
occurrences, or even a large part of them, to diabolic or
merely natural and pathologic influences requires an abnor-
mal trend to artless self-deception.

The case of Sister Anne Catherine Emmerich, who died in
1824, is a widely-known modern instance of interior illumina-
tion of which medical science offers no adequate explanation.
That a poor, illiterate peasant-girl should develop, with no ap-
parent assistance, a minute knowledge of theology, biblical
history, and topography, in addition to the gift of prophecy,
and supplement the researches of archaeologists by original
statements afterward verified in actual discoveries of science, is
certainly unintelligible in the case even of a neurasthenic, and
that her words should invariably preserve a sublime fitness for
the subject they explain, and throughout a maze of details of
description and incident should uniformly breathe the charm
and simplicity of the Gospel narrative and share its power to
edify, is a fact that outstrips any merely natural causes that
can be suggested. Disease may imitate unusual manifestations
of the power of God or of the devil; that it can counterfeit a
high degree of sanctity expressed in consistent action from

i goo.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 123

the cradle to the grave is utterly incredible. In the twelve
rules of criticism laid down by Pope Benedict XIV. for de-
tecting spurious cases of supernatural vision we have a most
severe standard of measurement, and although no official pro-
nouncement by the church has yet been made, it would seem
that the revelations of Sister Emmerich are vindicated by an
application of this test.

The occurrences surrounding our Lord's birth as detailed
by the stigmatise'e have been gathered into a little book *
that should appeal especially to all Christian realists. The
photographic tracing of endearing though minor circumstances
serves to fill us with tender emotions of love and pity for our
little Mother Mary, the girl-bride of fourteen, as with tears in
her eyes she begged the priest's permission to remain a servant
in the Temple, or for noble-hearted, patient Joseph, choosing
rather to become an exile in a foreign country than accuse
the child-wife to whom he had given his heart. The whole
daily life of the times is brought back to us vividly, and
minute descriptions of food, clothing, and articles of furniture
are as fully given as is the geographical information and the
characters of persons with whom the Holy Family had deal-
ings. To those who habitually entertain doubts upon any and
all subjects the book has no mission ; but to lovers of the sim-
plicity that yields only to a doubt well recommended, the
meditations will prove a new spring of devotion.

It may be only a fancy, but the thought that perhaps this
favored religious had a message to Americans especially, whom
she would see improve upon the religious corruption of her
native land, is fostered by a sentence she addressed to the Pil-
grim, as she called Clement Brentano, her patient biographer,
who has preserved us so many of her words : " What the Pil-
grim gleans he will bear away, far, far away, for there is no
disposition to make use of it here ; but it will bring forth
fruit in other lands, whence its effects will return and be felt
even here." And in this connection it is pleasant to associ-
ate the recollection that America derives its name, through
Amerigo Vespucci, from one of her ancestors, St. Emmerich.

A Son of the State \ is- the title of a clever novel by W.
Pettridge picturing phases of criminal life in London and
illustrating the benefits of reformatory legislation in rescuing

* The Nativity of our Lord fesus Christ. From the meditations of Anne Catherine
Emmerich. Translated from the French by George Richardson. London : Burns & (Dates,
limited ; New York, Cincinnati, Chicago : Benziger Brothers.

\ A Son of the State. By W. Pettridge. New York : Dodd, Mead & Co.

124 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

so many of the young from vicious associations. The little boy
who has been taken out of criminal companionship and adopted
by the country spends some years in a home where a benevo-
lent and judicious discipline makes a man of him. He is very
precocious, possesses a good deal of the reckless humor of the
Artful Dodger, but not very much of the hard cynicism of
Fagin's distinguished pupil. There is at the basis of his
character a fondness for the better side of life, and a respect
for the exertions, and a sympathy with the pleasures and in-
terests, of the amiable and high-minded who come across him.

The book is pleasant reading, and we hope that the im-
pression it is intended to produce as to the success of this
branch of humane legislation is not too highly colored. The
following extract will *convey an idea of the spirit in which
Mr. Pettridge looks at the effect of the work of the school
in lifting to a better life this waif cast upon the shore by
poverty and the evils in its train : " It seemed to the boy that
already he had lived two lives ; that the first had been broken
off short on the day he turned out of Worship Street Police
Court. He could not help feeling a vague admiration for that
first boy because the first boy had been a fine young dare-devil,
never trammelled by rules of behavior ; at the same time it was
as well, perhaps, that the first boy had ceased to live, for he was
not the kind of lad Bobbie could have introduced to the angel."

The reforming process had put a new character on Bobbie,
covering over and to an extent smothering the old habits.
There might be always danger that the old habits might assert
themselves, but as long as strong motives could be brought
into alliance with the later habits these would strengthen and
the chances of relapse diminish from day to day. We noted
a curious sentiment which displayed itself before Bobbie was
taken in hand by the state, and while still the companion of
the thieves who were bringing him up in the way in which he
should not go. His nefarious friends took him one night to a
transpontine theatre. The whole party keenly sympathized with
what was generous and devoted in the action of the play, showed
detestation of whatever was cruel and false ; and this while not
one had the slightest idea of missing a chance of stealing what
he could lay hands on ; not one of them would dream of deny-
ing himself a vicious gratification the moment it presented itself.

We are not surprised. In the worst periods of moral decay
the literature has not been unmixedly wicked. Notwithstand-
ing the revelations of the divorce court, from time to time
public feeling will be roused against some one's disregard for

i goo.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 125

domestic ties. It may happen that the condemnation will fall
on a person who was not worse than many who escaped
censure; a comparatively recent instance of this is well within
the knowledge of this country and the United Kingdom, when
a man who filled a great place in political life was struck in
his pride as by a judgment but the excitement of the public
in such instances is*still a testimony to the hold which virtue
has upon the very springs of life. The feeling of the lawless
crowd in the novel before us shows the author's knowledge of
a fact of social experience, that the mass of men have better
principles than the individuals who compose it. We think
there is in this a hopeful prospect for the exertions of all who
are interested in the elevation of the broken elements of society.

The Signers of the Night* by Max Pemberton, is a series
of incidents in the shape of stories. hung on to the life of Fra
Giovanni, who is made to exercise a mysterious power over
Venetian society in the early years of the eighteenth century.
There are several illustrations whih will help the eye, even
when the text may produce vexation of spirit. We cannot al-
together congratulate the writer on his success in reproducing
the world within that republic which occupies so remarkable a
chapter in the history of European states, even to the very
end of the seventeenth century. Venice had been sinking for
a long time no doubt, it is likely her peculiar institutions could
only have been successful when foreign conquest and the ex-
tension of her commerce afforded opportunities for the enter-
prising spirits that were shut out by their birth from employ-
ment at home. These outlets had departed, but her law was
strong and her decay was that of age rather than the resolu-
tion of the state into its elements. Now, the sketches before
us would indicate a breaking-up of society in the beginning of
the last century, instead of the diminished vigor which followed
on the Turkish wars and the closing of the ancient spheres of
her activity. Some one or two of the scenes are drawn well,
though spoiled by the purposeless mystery which reigns over
the entire book. We do not think the eeriness in which the
author tries to involve us in the last sketch, " The Haunted
Gondola," is a bit more real than the terror of a spirit-rapper's
sitting ; but there is force in the tale "White Wings to the Raven,"
both in the fancy and delineation, and so we dismiss the book.

M. Duquet's little book f tells of that incident in the rela-
tions of France and Ireland so characteristic of the two

* The Signers of the Night. By Max Pemberton. New York : Dodd, Mead & Co.
t Ireland and France. By Alfred Duquet. Baltimore: John Murphy Company.

126 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS.

branches of the Celtic race, in the warmth of the sympathy of
the one and of the intense appreciation of that sympathy by
the other. The Irish equipped an ambulance brigade for
France during the war of 1870, and certain French gentlemen
went to Ireland at the peace to thank the people for that service.
There was nothing peculiar in the Irish fitting out such an
expedition of humanity ; other peoples acted in a somewhat
similar manner. Why was France so wildly enthusiastic in her
gratitude to the one country ? The reception given by the
Irish to the representatives of France went beyond anything
in their history, save a scene or two during the career of
O'Connell. Why did the Irish prostrate themselves before the
representatives of the defeated nation ? Why did they behave
as if those Frenchmen were moving in the chariots of a tri-
umph such as Rome turned out to see when her generals
brought the spoils of nations in their hands?

One interesting fact we have some pleasure mentioning : a
member of the deputation when paying his bill for a night's
rest in London and a cup of coffee in the morning handed a
hundred franc piece in payment. The hotel proprietor not
finding it convenient to give change, added some imaginary
items to the bill and squared it. The same gentleman called
a man with a wheelbarrow to carry his portmanteau to the
railroad station, but while getting his ticket for Holyhead, the
man, the barrow, and the portmanteau disappeared.

The members of the deputation were much enlightened on
their return from Ireland to London to read a notice warning
against pickpockets at the Charing Cross station. Like the
sight of the gallows which made the wanderer among savages
feel that he, at length, had reached the frontiers of civiliza-
tion, so the English hotel proprietor, the English wheelbarrow
man, and the notice at Charing Cross station must have pre-
sented gratifying evidence that in these usages of a successful
and refined life England stands foremost, while in such customs
Ireland is so far behind as to be invisible ; these Frenchmen
must have seen, indeed, that time does not weaken the spirit
of Anglo-Saxon appropriation or use stale its infinite variety.

The present great popularity of devotion to Saint Anthony
has evidently excited a demand for accounts of his life written
with brevity and attractiveness. Such a biography is the one
in hand.* With little or no pretension of giving a chronologi-
cal story" of the events of the saint's life, it yet covers all that

* Saint Anthony of Padua and the Twentieth Century. By Rev. Francis Dent. New
York : P. J. Kenedy.

1 900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 127

is important, while it gains in popular interest as being a sketch
of the character and career, rather than a set life of the
" wonder-worker." We would wish that every one of the faith-
ful multitude who are devoted to Saint Anthony might read
such a work as this, for devotion is intelligent and fervent in
proportion as the life and spirit of its object are known. The
ordinary reader will find in Father Dent's book more than a
mere sufficiency of food for admiration and piety for Saint An-
thony. The style is lively and interesting, with few faults ; and,
in general, the subject is well conceived and intelligently treated.

The ten lectures given under the auspices of the New York
University in the recently endowed Deems Lectureship in
Philosophy have been issued in book forrn.* Roughly we may
say that Dr. Iverach's argument consists of an attempt to es-
tablish cosmic teleology, and to analyze its transcendental
implications for the Being and Attributes of God. Five lec-
tures are concerned with final purpose in the universe as dis-
played by science, two with Personality and Religion, two with
Agnosticism and Idealism, and one with a special study based
on the writings of Mr. Benjamin Kidd and Mr. Arthur Balfour.

The first five lectures we cannot regard as other than very
ordinary. Perhaps we look for too much in a treatise aiming
to demonstrate purpose and final cause; but truly, if just here,
as is largely probable, lies the very fate of Theism, we shall
not be blamed for placing our standards of philosophical apolo-
getics uncompromisingly high. Is the world the outcome of a
creating and conserving Providence, whose mind is disclosed
throughout the cosmos from the constant laws of attraction
and repulsion between the cryptic atoms to the awful harmony
of the marching spheres? or is it a mindless bubble blown
from the sea of infinite chance, with laws that are the outcome
of lucky accidents and with a progressive development of no
deeper basis than the fortuitous association of inexplainable
molecules that, out of a billion possibilities of combination,
bumped together into the present universe ? This, we say, is
perhaps the supreme question now to be solved. There are
many others to be asked and answered before the battle of
Theism is satisfactorily decided questions chiefly of epistem-
ology which will save philosophy and faith from the ship-
wreck threatened by the critical school and by its offspring, the
agnostic. But if not deeper, at least more universal and far
more practical, is the question we have just stated between

* Theism in the Light of Present Science and Philosophy. By James Iverach, M.A., D.D.
New York : The Macmillan Company.

128 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

God and godlessness ; between theism and atheism ; between
a dualism which would establish relations of the immortal
spirit of man with its Infinite Creator, and a materialistic
monism which would annihilate both ; between final cause and
purposeless chance. " I do not say a hasty thing," said Dr.
Barry fifteen years ago, " when I affirm that to-day the weight-
iest pr&ambula fidei are the truths of science expounded by
Christian professors." And the most imperative duty of this
Christian as well as philosophic exposition of science is to
show Intelligence and Providence in the world-plan.

Judging from this high view-point the importance of the
question, we have been somewhat disappointed in Dr. Iverach's
scientific reading of the universe. Much in it is good, but it
presents a diffuse sketchiness if we may juxtapose two such
words which seems to make but little for the theistic inter-
pretation. In his formal treatment of agnosticism we would
wish for stricter method, as well as a deeper research. No
scientific or even just estimate of agnosticism is possible which
leaves out of reckoning the historical and noetic elements that
enter into the fibre of this modern nescience -philosophy.
Still this lecture has many sharp criticisms, striking phrases,
and manifestations of keen analysis. On the whole the book
has seized on one of the gravest problems now confronting the
theistic philosopher and has handled it with respectable ability.
We wish the Deems Lectureship God-speed in its work of
building a solid framework in reason for the claims of religion
and the requirements of revelation.

Surely the Archangels and the Guardian Angels must have
rejoiced when the erudite Eliza Allen Starr began to write
words intended to increase devotion to the angels. To add to
the force of her words she has enriched her pages by copies of
the choicest pictures in the world. She says in her preface that
"to the uplifting of this daily life of mundane necessities these
pages and their angelic embellishments are devoutly consecrated."

The book* cannot fail of its object if eyes are turned to
it from "mundane necessities," we need not say long enough
to read it, because to look is to read, and to read is to reflect.

The four pictures of St. Michael are, from Fra Angelico,
Raphael, and Perugino. Comparing the Perugino with that of
Raphael makes one realize . that Raphael was particularly
favored in his master. The Assumption by Perugino, in which
is found the heavenly warrior St. Michael, is large enough and

* The Three Archangels and the Guardian Angels in Art. By Eliza Allen Starr.

i goo.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 129

so distinct in the book as to enable one to form a good idea
of the beauty of the original.

The author mentions many other pictures of St. Michael
and tells where they may be found. She gives a graphic ac-
count of many of the manifestations of this great archangel,
notably when he appeared during the pontificate of Gregory
the Great on the Hadrian mausoleum, standing on its summit,
watching the grand procession of Roman penitents who were
pleading for a cessation of the pestilence. The great pontiff,
leading the procession, looked up and saw St. Michael
41 sheathing his sword, as if he had come triumphant from the
battle-field of death. A church was dedicated there in honor
of St. Michael, and the mausoleum has borne ever since the
name of Castle Angelo."

The Archangel Gabriel as represented in the catacombs,
and by Fra Angelico, Delia Robbia, and Overbeck, should be
seen and studied by every one. Not many in this country
have had an opportunity of seeing Overbeck's picture of St.
Gabriel in Gethsemani ; but of all the words ever written by
the gifted author none move one more, bring one nearer
heaven's gate, than what she writes about the Angel Gabriel,
the strength of God as pictured by Overbeck, who paints him
bearing the cup to Jesus in his agony.

The illustrations of the Archangel Raphael are from Peru-
gino, Luini, Von Deutsch, Overbeck, and Raphael. The author
gives the various offices assigned to the Archangel Raphael as
revealed in Holy Writ and by the traditions of the church.
She quotes the best of authorities in support of her reasons
for saying St. Raphael was the guide of the Israelites to the
Promised Land, the angel whom God meant when he said to
Moses : " Behold I send my angel before thee, to keep thee
on thy journey and bring thee into the place where I have
prepared."

Here again the author portrays vividly the other pictures
of this archangel, and so well chosen is her language of de-
scription one fancies the beautiful creations of art mentioned
are before him.

Under the head of "The Guardian Angels" we find St.
Frances of Rome by Iltenbach, the beautiful "Guardian
Angel" by Mintrop, Guardian Angels in "The Resurrection"
by Fra Angelico, and St. John of God by Murillo. All and
more are described or, correctly speaking, interpreted.

This book properly belongs with the one treating of The

VOJ-. LXXI. 9

130 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

Seven Dolors of the Blessed Virgin and Christian Art in Our
Age, all by the same author, all indispensable desk-books for
every teacher and every scholar, for the author reads out of a
picture its spiritual signification as but few can read it. The
hearts of Christian people will be gladdened by a perusal of
this and the related books by Miss Starr, for to-day art, like
literature, is often dragged in the dust by so-called friends.
The pages are permeated with lofty sentiments that give one
ennobling thoughts, and that cause one to walk through life
with more ardent longings to one day see face to face those
angels for whom we have greater love and stronger attach-
ment since reading this little book.

The author's name is guarantee for deep earnestness, charm-
ing frankness, and solid interest in the present volume.* Yet,
after all, its theology partakes of that vagueness which we
have come to consider a probable characteristic of all books
bearing the legend " New." There is here again the same
humanizing of things supernal, the same intangible profession of
faith in the " Son of God," the same wearying misapprehension
of what is meant by Church Infallibility. Could this last point
be well understood, and the principles of doctrinal develop-
ment as taught in the Catholic Church be understood, most
outside critics would find their occupation gone.

Of course the essays are instructive, entertaining, and full
of inspiration. The full earnestness of the man revealed in
his admirable life lends weight to and drives home every ap-
peal he makes for higher, nobler living. As to sound doctrine
and definite teaching, that nowadays, outside the church, seems
scarce a requisite.

Young April\ has met with considerable praise from critics
and a most favorable reception at the hands of the public.
The absorbing interest which it provokes and sustains to the
end, together with its striking force and vivacity, have justly
won these many admirers ; but it must be said that its swing
and power are worthy of a better work, for in the end the
book falls far below the level of high-class literature. The
force of this objection will appear if we hearken on the one
side to the urgent cries of critics against the plague of over-
production in the literary world, and on the other to the
words of Frederic Harrison : " Are we not, amidst the multi-

* The New Evangelism. By Henry Drummond. New York : Dodd, Mead & Co.
f Young April. By Egerton Castle. New York : Macmillan Company.

i goo.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 131

plicity of books and of writers, in continual danger of being
drawn off by what is stimulating, by curiosity after something
accidentally notorious, by what has no intelligible thing to
recommend it, except that it is new? Now, to stuff our minds
with what is simply trivial, simply curious, or that which at
best has but a low nutritive power, this is to close our minds
to what is solid, and enlarging, and spiritually sustaining."

By constant extravaganza and occasional coarseness the
book fails of that simplicity and purity of style indispensable
for a fitting vehicle of the moral lessons the writer would con-
vey. Similar lessons and characters may be found in works of
high reputation, and Young April suffers by the contrast. To
those for whom reading is something more than a luxurious
enjoyment the book would scarce recommend itself as superior
to another among the stream issuing from the publishers with
such constancy day by day.

I. AMBROSE PHILLIPPS DE LISLE AND THE CONVERSION OF

ENGLAND.*

The first question that suggests itself on the perusal of
these most interesting volumes is the choice made by the
family of a biographer. Mr. Purcell's Life of Cardinal Manning
caused so much controversy and the condemnation of the
methods adopted in it was so general that it seemed unwise
to entrust to him a work of a similar character. The Preface
written by Mr. Edwin de Lisle, who has edited the whole
work and who on Mr. Purcell's death brought it to comple-
tion, explains this matter. It indicates approval of the way in
which Cardinal Manning's life was written an approval both
on his own and his mother's part. It was the last act of her
long and checkered life, we are told, to commit to Mr.
Purcell the letters and manuscripts made use of in this
book. With Mr. Purcell's ideal of what a biography
should be, as indicated and defended by himself, we our-
selves have complete sympathy. The reader of a biography
ought to be able to learn from the book which he reads the
truth about the subject of the biography. Too often it is
rather the biographer's own views that are expounded, and we
see of the subject only so much as he thinks edifying and

* Life and Letters of Ambrose Phillipps de Lisle. By Edmund Sheridan Purcell. Edited
and finished by Edwin de Lisle. New York : The Macmillan Company.

132 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

proper to tell us. What Mr. Purcell was to be blamed for in
his Life of Cardinal Manning is, that he had an evident ani-
mus against the Cardinal, and that that led him to belittle
and besmirch his memory. As the Spectator said, the docu-
ments published in his book did not bear out and support
the assertions of the text. But in this case the sympathy
between Mr. Purcell and Mr. Phillipps was so great that no
such danger existed. Moreover the work was, as arranged
originally, to be submitted by its author to the judgment of
Mr. Edwin de Lisle. In fact, owing to the death of Mr. Pur-
cell before the work was finished, Mr. De Lisle may be con-
sidered responsible for the whole. So far as we can judge,
no unpleasant consequences are to be apprehended from this
publication ; at least nothing is published of which Mr. Phil-
lipps' family have any right to complain.

What was Mr. Phillipps' exact place among the Catholics
of England? "If England is converted to Christ, it will be as
much due, under God, to you as to any one." So wrote
Cardinal Newman to Mr. Phillipps in 1857. " An Israelite in
whom is no guile " such was Mr. Gladstone's opinion of him.
Readers of Mr. Wilfrid Ward's Life of Cardinal Wiseman will
remember the account which he gives of the more sympathetic
attitude of Wiseman towards the national mind than that taken
by Manning. The latter is represented as aiming at a closer
assimilation to Roman and Italian ways. Manning's views pre-
vailed. Phillipps represents this more English and national
attitude, and the object of this work is to continue (shall we
say revive?) the Wiseman-De Lisle ecclesiastical policy.

The conversion of England to the faith was the object
nearer to the heart of Mr. Phillipps than any other, and in
this he was in perfect agreement with Cardinal Manning, as
well as with Cardinal Newman. But how was this to be
effected ? Here began the differences. The kind of vestments
to be worn at Mass seems a trifling matter, yet the attitude
taken on this question by the three just named seems to in-
dicate that now, as in old Saxon times with reference to the
shape of the tonsure, these external things indicate matters of
greater moment behind. Cardinal Manning forbade in his
diocese the use of any vestments except the purely Roman,
and this in order to assimilate England in all things to the
centre gf unity; Cardinal Newman .in his own church would
not allow any but Roman vestments to be used, but this was
not done as the expression of any principle, but out of devo-

1 900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 133

tion to St. Philip ; to him the kind of vestments worn was a
matter of indifference ; while Mr. Phillipps, when by a decree
of the Propaganda in 1839 tne ^ Sarum y cross vestments
were forbidden, declared the conversion of England to be im-
possible if such a policy were to be pursued : " I regard the
censure as a death-blow to the Catholic cause in England, if
persisted in." It has been persisted in to this day, and yet
the conversion of so many Englishmen to the faith has all
taken place since that time.

A remarkable project supported by Mr. Phillipps was the
creation of a Uniat Church for England. This church was to
be essentially English in all things not incompatible with the
law of Christ and apostolic traditions. The Liturgy was to be
the Book of Common Prayer with certain necessary additions;
communion in both kinds was to be allowed, at least in some
places and at some times ; permission was to be given to
ordain married men to be priests and even bishops. In fact,
the Anglican Church formularies were to be taken as the
nucleus, their imperfections removed, and various Protestant
errors eliminated ; the dogmatic definitions of Trent and the
Vatican were to be accepted, but not the disciplinary decrees.
This scheme met with great favor from Mr. Phillipps, and
he tried to find support for it among Catholics. That such
proposals, arising outside, should be promoted within the
church by so zealous and loyal a Catholic as Mr. Phillipps, at
this late period, shows how necessary is the energetic exercise
of the authority of the Holy See ; as necessary as ever, if not
more necessary than ever, in our own days.

The conversion of England by the corporate reunion of the
Anglican Church to the Roman Catholic was the centre and
core of Mr. Phillipps' efforts. He believed that the Church of
England was as a body sound in the faith, that its errors were
accidental, that they were being removed, and would ulti-
mately be entirely extirpated, especially if Anglicans were
gently treated by Catholics. It was a duty for Catholics to
contribute to this desirable result in every available way, and this
led him to support heartily the Association for the Promotion
of the Unity of Christendom. This Association was originally
planned and founded by about fourteen persons, all of them
Anglicans except Mr. Phillipps himself, Father Lockhart and
Father Collins (who formed the Catholic element), and a single
Russo-Greek priest. After a short time the Association counted
in its ranks many Catholic bishops and archbishops, and digni-

134 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

taries of all descriptions from cardinals downwards. The Pri-
mate of Constantinople and other Eastern prelates, the Primate
of the Russian Church, and the Archbishop Philaretes of Mos-
cow (who was looked upon as a man of great holiness) repre-
sented the Eastern churches. Although no bishops of the
Anglican Church joined, a large number of the members of
the second order entered into the Association, so that there
were some nine thousand members.

The adhesion of Catholics to an association which admitted
the division of the church into three branches (see p. 374,
vol. i.) was, however, disapproved by many English Catholics,
especially by Dr. Manning. The matter was taken to Rome
and was ultimately condemned by the Holy See. Mr. Phillipps
submitted to the condemnation, but under protest, believing
that the authorities at Rome had been misinformed as to the
facts. The best account yet published of this whole matter is
given in these volumes. Long letters written by Mr. Phillipps
to Cardinal Barnabo appear in print for the first time. A
somewhat amusing incident is the refusal of the cardinal to
accept a chalice which Mr. Phillipps proposed to send him, for
fear he should by so doing appear to connive at false doc-
trine.

Although Mr. Phillipps submitted, as in duty bound, to the
decision of the Holy See, it was not so complete a submission
as to deserve our fullest admiration. He was, we fear, one of
those Catholics who feel themselves competent to decide ques-
tions, and to govern the church better than the divinely ap-
pointed rulers. He lost, we are told, all his Man, and could no
more convince himself of the superior tact and practical sagac-
ity of the Holy See in dealing with men. He became less of
an Ultramontane than before and entered into the inop-
portunist camp against the definition of Papal Infallibility.
This is the account given by his son of his attitude subsequent
to the condemnation. Perhaps he does less than justice to his
father, for Mr. Phiilipps himself said that nothing, however
painful, would deter him from obedience to the earthly repre-
sentatives of Christ, or from a continuance of the divine ser-
vice and that of the Holy Catholic Church.

The whole incident is instructive and valuable as showing
the unchanging attitude of Rome and her ever faithful guar-
dianship of the deposit of faith. As Monsignor Talbot writes:
"The Pope will not sacrifice one iota of the whole Catholic
doctrine were it even to convert the whole of England." She

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 135

ruthlessly stamps out the slightest approach to compromise or
to trimming in matters of faith. Rome acts upon the principle
to save people if she can if she cannot, then to leave them
inexcusable.

The first of the three great objects of Mr. Phillipps' life (the
two others being the Restoration of the Primitive Ecclesiasti-
cal Chant, and the Return of the Anglican Church to Catholic
Unity) was the bringing back to England of the Primitive
Monastic contemplative observance. For this purpose he gave
land, and, with the help of the Earl of Shrewsbury, Mr. Pugin
and others, built a church and monastery for the Trappists.
In this effort to restore the contemplative life he was more
successful than in his other efforts. The author of Christian
Schools and Scholars tells us that in pre-Reformation times
there were more persons devoted to the contemplative life,
more hermits and anchorites, in England than in any other
country in the world except Egypt. The contemplative life
is the highest of all religious vocations, the one which draws
down blessings more abundant and more fruitful. That Mr.
Phillipps should have been in God's hand the instrument of
restoring this life to the modern English world, absorbed as it
is in the pursuit of gain and the lower activities, forms for him
a sufficient crown of glory, even if something like failure
may have attended other efforts ; even though, too, we have
to express strong disapprobation of some of his views.
" Thanks and praise be to God," he said, toward the end of his
life, to Mr. Purcell, " the highest aim of my spiritual life was
the bringing back to England of the great Cistercian Order,
devoted to prayer and the silent contemplation of God. The
greatest consolation of my earthly life is to know that the
prayers and the penances and the * great silence ' are offered
up by day and by night to God, by the monks of St. Bernard,
for the fulfilment of the dearest desire of my heart the return
of England to Catholic unity."

There are many other most interesting matters in these
volumes to which we cannot even allude. Letters are found,
hitherto unpublished, from Cardinals Newman, Wiseman, and
Manning, from Mr. Gladstone, the Count de Montalembert,
Lacordaire, Mr. Aubrey de Vere, and other persons prominent
not merely in ecclesiastical but also in political circles. For Mr.
Phillipps was himself no recluse, and loved his country and
the world too well not to take an interest in temporal as well
as spiritual affairs. He was, strange to say, although a Tory,

136 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

inclined to favor Mr. Gladstone's Home-Rule proposals for Ire-
land. The destruction of the Turkish dominion was most ear-
nestly desired by him. In fact he held that Mahomet was Anti-
christ, and had written in early days a book in proof of this
contention. That the church should be alike the home of men
so different from one another as were Mr. Phillipps and Dr.
Ward, for example, is an evidence of her attractive power for
minds of very diverse character. They both were willing to
learn and to listen to her as their teacher. We think that
the subject of this biography, although perhaps he had more
things to learn and fell into more errors and mistakes, yet was
the more lovable of the two.

2. THE CENTENARY OF PRINCE GALLITZIN'S WORK.*

Demetrius A. Gallitzin is one of the unique personages of
American ecclesiastical history, and Father Kittell has done
not a little service to the church in gathering in a goodly
volume many of the facts and memories and other data that
are associated with Gallitzin's work in Central Pennsylvania.
The centenary of the inauguration of the Loretto parish was
celebrated last October, and it is this event that furnishes the
occasion for the publication of the volume.

Prince Gallitzin was born of an illustrious Russian family ;
he came to this country as a young man to study the social
and educational conditions. He became a convert to the
church, and entered the seminary at Baltimore and was or
dained to the priesthood. He established a centre of mission-
ary work on the top of the Alleghariies. Thence he went
forth among the new settlers on both the eastern and western
slopes of the mountains, and instilled into their hearts a pecu
liarly rigid and ascetic type of religious life, of which he him-
self was the most notable example.

His life was a type of those who, through the inspiration
of a divine vocation and under the pressure of an iron will,
have lived and died in lines totally different from the promises
of their birth or education. The opportunities of Gallitzin's
origin and training, had they been laid hold of, would in all
probability have made him a great military hero. It is alto-
gether likely that he would have crossed swords with Napo-
leon. But instead of making a few chapters of European

* Souvenir of Loretto Centenary, iiqq-iSqf). Rev. Ferdinand Kittell, Loretto, Cambria
Co., Pa.

i goo.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 137

history, he elected to live in the wilderness, to tramp through
the trackless forest, and to trudge over the muddy roads of
an unsettled country, for the sole purpose of saving souls.

He is a type of the convert priest, a class of workers in
the American vineyard which has had some most illustrious
exemplars. In America, perchance more than anywhere else,
has the convert entered the ranks of the ministry and given
all his energies to the upbuilding of the church. He is a type
of the hard-working missionary whose life is at the beck and
call of the people, who is ready day and night to respond to
their sick-calls even if it necessitates long fasting, rough ex-
periences, and unusual exposure. The race of missionaries
who carry their altar and vestments with them to say Mass in
the settler's home, who sit for hours patiently instructing the
stupid country children by the kitchen fire, who are proud
when they can gather a parlor-full of neighbors to talk to, is
not dying out. They have been and are to-day the foster-
fathers of religion in the sparsely settled districts of the
country.

The minute details of Gallitzin's life should not be allowed
to fade out of our memories. He is one of the saints of the
struggling church on American soil, and he stands for all that
is great and noble and pure and self-sacrificing in the priestly
character.

Father Kittell has gathered these historical notes, very
largely as a labor of love, and it must have been no little ex-
pense to him to issue so large a book. He has done well even
if the book never repays him for the outlay. It will find its
way into the reference libraries. It will be eagerly sought
for by all who are interested in the welfare of the church in
this country.

3. THE WOMAN BEAUTIFUL.*

The Woman Beautiful* might well claim the sub-title "The
Woman Good " without exaggerating in the least the moral
advantages which directly issue from a sane, temperate, and at
the same time zealous pursuit of beauty in face, form, dress,
and deportment.

The author has built the fundamental laws of beauty in all
these things, strongly and unmistakably, upon the foundations

* The Woman Beautiful. By Ella Adelia Fletcher. W. M. Young & Co., 38 Murray
Street, New York.

138 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

of the moral law, and in a treatise on physical feminine per-
fection rilling with fine print a large volume of over five hun-
dred pages has not deflected in a single statement from the
most finely drawn lines of moral obligation. Such an achieve-
ment deserves the most unstinted praise and the warmest
appreciation, not only from the sex for whom this book was
written specifically, but from every guardian or teacher of the
moral law.

We repeatedly feel in glancing through its well-written pages
and meeting statement after statement of the soundest, truest
philosophy of life and things, that the title is not comprehen-
sive enough and might prejudice at a hasty glance the pur-
blind critic, as might also the numerous and exhaustive recipes
of lotions, cosmetics, and concoctions of various chemicals
recommended or suggested for the many and diverse ills of
the flesh. That these things, however, are intended in very
many instances as a mere bait to the attention and interest of
the frivolous-minded, who would take no advice not sugar-
coated in this palatable way, was, we strongly suspect, the
shrewd intention of the sensible author. That her readers
would be made up in the large majority of just such quality
of minds was her strongest incentive, no doubt, in searching
for and in discovering a medium direct to not only their heads
but their hearts.

One of the inscrutable mysteries of our common existence
is tied up and rooted deep down in the fact of woman's influ-
ence in the affairs of this world, through her personal appear-
ance. It strikes at the very elements of life: the attraction of
the sexes, and through that it moves the world.

The length of an eyelash or the pigment of color at the
root of a hair might stand for the atom from which a whole
world of moral issues may be built up. One might choose to
define the destinies of this mortal existence by such a process
of analysis and not be challenged for inaccuracy of reasoning.

Miss Fletcher is deeply imbued with a sense of the serious
significance the veriest trifle in the world may assume if it
flings out but the tiniest tendril in its growth or development
towards the great moral structure of human life. This spirit
has animated her plainly in every dictum light or profound, in
every criticism from grave to gay, which she has laid down in
her writing. And she has done it in a way as absolutely free
of cant or prudery as it is free of frivolousness or thought-
lessness.

IQOO.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 139

A glance at the chapter-headings shows that from the hair
on her head to the sole of her foot, nay the very nail on the
toe of her foot, no part of woman's anatomy has been over-
looked in the wise and sensible direction laid down for its proper
care by Miss Fletcher. The mother might well give over having
a single care as to the good and healthful upbringing of her
growing girls with such a book for daily reference ; the teacher
of hygiene in the college, the nun in the convent school, in the
solicitous care of her feminine charges, and often too for the
benefit of her own despised and long-suffering body, could find
many a text to enlighten and inform and to emphatically
punctuate her own sensible advice as to there being no moral
safeguard in the world equal to the possession of a sound,
clean, rightly trained body ; or no beauty ever dreamed of or
imagined to compare with that which goes deeper than the
skin into the very .upbuilding of strong bones, pliant muscles,
and firm, healthy flesh, woven through with nerves that serve
to bind the body as a willing partner to the controlling mind,
and not as a miserable slave shocked into fright and moral
servility to the great or strong or arbitrary natures among
whom her lot may be cast, by the twinge of a nerve. That
there is very little use in reckoning upon any real and genuine
improvement of woman in her social status until the great car-
dinal principles of health have become thorough, every-day
practices with the whole sex, and not merely pursued as
recreations or fads or singularities by some of them, is so
patent a fact that it cannot remain obscure long enough to
keep such improvement in waiting for another age or genera-
tion.

This is the note of hope that runs through all such writing
on the subject of woman as Miss Fletcher has given us. She,
however, is no blind enthusiast, and wisely and penetratingly
sees in one still existing evil among the race of woman the
very core of the obstacle which keeps her yet second in rank
as a moral force in the legislation of human affairs. The
chapter on dress is a subtle, philosophical essay on moral
principles, and might realize a glorious mission sent broadcast
over the world in the form of a tract that would teach moral
truths to woman as vital as those learned in her catechism.

Miss Fletcher has written no tirade against fashion or
preached no doctrine of dress reform, but has gone to the root
of the moral, or ethical, the social and economic, influence of
woman's dress with the calm reasoning of a sound, scientific

140 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [April,

mind. From the moral effect of color on the character to the
economic results in the change of style from silk to satin or
cloth to wool, presents a rather bewildering mental process,
but with an adroit pen the author easily runs from one line of
argument to another in reinforcing her statements on the sub-
ject of dress. What will not appeal to the soulless and frivol-
ous devotee of fashion, like the following, will strike home
seriously to the large-minded woman of affairs, and give her
pause when the whim of a passing moment may threaten to
influence her judgment as to her personal clothing:

" Whole towns spring up and flourish upon the vogue given
to a single fabric, as at Saltaire when Titus Salt succeeded in
producing a desirable stuff from alpaca wool imported into Eng-
land from Buenos Ayres. Its popularity continued for twenty
years. Then fashion ordered closely fitting gowns, and soft
Eastern materials, cashmeres, crapes, took the place of alpaca ;
and in consequence the factories at Saltaire were shut down,
and the prosperous little town came to need and destitution.
In the same way the immense interests involved in the manu-
facture of shawls in France, England, and Scotland have, during
the past twenty-five years, seen their trade almost entirely ex-
tinguished, and faced ruin where they could not divert their
1 plants' to other fabrications."

As telling an argument on her less thoughtful sister against
excesses in color and form would be such information as this:
" It marks a distinct retrogression in the scale of refinement
when a people turn from delicate colors in their clothing and
decoration, to the use of bright red, orange, yellow, purple,
and green. It is only in a rudimentary stage of aesthetic feel-
ing, such as the child's and the untutored savage's, that crude-
ly bright, intense colors fail to repel. Cultured vision seems
especially to shrink from a strong^blaze of red." " Students of
color theories believe that there is something crude and un-
tamed, when not cruel, in the nature which delights in vermil-
ion and scarlet. The Bible gives to sin the color of scarlet.
. . . All the brightest and happiest emotions of the soul are
embodied in those which visions of blue arouse."

AN Ecumenical Conference on Protestant Mis-
sions will be held in New York on April 21. It
will undoubtedly be a notable gathering, inas-
much as there are promises of attendance from men who are
celebrated as educationists, statesmen, and financiers, as well as
missionaries. It is a well-intentioned attempt to keep alive the
interests in the foreign mission work. The contributions to the
missions have notably decreased in the last ten years, and
most desperate attempts have been made to keep them up to
their usual mark, but without success.

The reason given out for the falling off of the receipts was the
financial stringency, but people who have watched the decline of
influence of the sects and the decay of organizations among Prot-
estants know differently. They know that no amount of conven-
ing nor of the passing of resolutions will ever bring back that deep
faith and restless zeal that characterized the Protestantism of
some generations ago when mission work was in the heyday of its
glory, and before the higher critics began their destructive work.

The educational imbroglio in New York is at a practical
stand-still. It seems now that nothing will be done at this ses-
sion of the Legislature. A good deal has been done, however.
The people of the State have been awakened to the importance
of the present bills, and nothing will go through without being
thoroughly discussed. What is demanded is a bill that gives
every class of people its rights, that will be non-political in its
executive administration, and that will be framed on the basis
of the existing Board of Regents.

The war in Africa has become a fierce struggle for national ex-
istence on the part of the Boers. Since the rejection of the peace
proposals offered by the burghers, in which they ask only national
freedom, it will be very hard for the nations of Europe to be con-
vinced that the war is anything else than a great game of grab.
The alternatives for the Boers are : submit to be absorbed into the
British Empire, or yield up their homes and make another Great
Trek into the wilderness, or fight on till they die in the last ditch.

CHRISTIAN BROTHERS' SCHOOLS IN IRELAND.
AN interesting survey of the work of the Christian Brothers of Ireland is
contained in the following :

In reply to your inquiries, which reached me to-day, I beg to state :

1. That the number of children attending our schools in Ireland is about
30,000.

2. Of them I should think about 3,000 are receiving Intermediate Education ;
the others, who are mostly under twelve years, are receiving Primary Education,
as a preparatory step to Intermediate Education.

3. Roughly I should think about seven per cent, graduate per annum.
Pupils cannot graduate at Intermediate before they are twelve years of age.

4. Cannot exactly say what per cent, of our boys pass Civil Service examina-
tions, but I may mention that two were sent for Civil Service examinations from
our schools in Athy at the last examination and both passed, and during the
week one of them was called to London.

5. The programme of studies in our schools comprises: Greek, Latin,
French, Celtic, German, Italian, Mathematics in all its branches, Chemistry,
Natural Philosophy, Type-writing and Shorthand, besides other studies which
children in some localities require. All our schools are connected with South
Kensington, so that Drawing is universally taught.

6. The Examiners of Intermediate are appointed by the Intermediate Board,
and an officer appointed by South Kensington presides at the examinations in
Drawing and Science.

7. The cost per capita for tuition to government is practically nil.

8. Answer to 8th is comprised in 7th.

9. The Brothers receive no aid from government for Primary Schools, and
in my opinion one of the principal reasons is that our schools are the only
National Schools in the country. The English government does not favor a
national education, as it is not favorable to having Irish history taught as it
should be taught ; nor does it favor denominational education, which is the
system of the Irish Christian Brothers. The English government has ten-
dered no remuneration to Irish Christian Brothers. Some English statesmen
essayed doing so, but failed.

10. Our Brothers undergo a course of studies for some years in Marino,
Clontarf, Dublin ; later on they compete for university degrees at the Royal
University.

ii & 12. I can answer these questions as to our status as teachers, as com-
pared with the teachers of the government, and also as to the success of our
pupils at Civil Service, by a quotation from Lord Justice Fitzgibbon in 1894.
Lord Justice Fitzgibbon, you must know, is not a Roman Catholic, but he is a
man of broad views and recognizes merit. He said in the King's Inn, at a
debating society, about two years since : " The result was that after a certain
number of years so large a proportion of Christian Brothers' unendowed schools
were carrying off prizes that it was said the system was not high enough. The
standard was raised for the purpose of excluding schools that had not a high
standard of teaching. The schools that were 'squeezed out were those that
thought they would remain in, and a larger proportion of Christian Brothers'
schools than ever were successful when the standard was raised ! " On another
occasion his lordship stated, before the Protestant Church Society, that if they
(the Protestants) wanted to hold their own in Civil Service, they should organize
their schools on the lines of the Christian Brothers, whose boys, his lordship
said, were taking a large percentage of places in the Civil Service.

M. M. HILL.

1900.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 143

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

REV. GEORGE TYRRELL, S.J., in the Weekly Register, has written a
timely admonition against the tendency to form cliques on certain ques-
tions. He states that one of the chief obstacles to unity in truth is the fact that
every party has its peripsema its tail of camp-followers ever tending to as-
sume a larger proportion as the party grows, and in the desire for numerical
strength to become indifferent to the standard of excellence. Those who think
are the few ; the many either do not think, or, still worse, only imagine that
they think; they follow blindly, picking up catch-words and war-cries which they
interpret according to the particular character of their incapacity. It is the self-
confident overreadiness of such to push themselves forward on all occasions as
the exponents and representatives of their cause, that brings discredit upon it
and makes mutual understanding and reconciliation between conflicting parties
so impossible. Indeed, it would sometimes seem that these " tails " are the sole
differentiating principles by which parties are divided from one another, like the
rays of a star-fish ; and that as we pass upwards from these noisy extremities
of wriggling agitation we converge towards a silent centre of comparative
agreement and tranquillity. Toward this centre a man will be necessarily
forced in the measure that he strives at any sacrifice to b"e perfectly honest and
impartial, and to put the interests of truth before those of self or friend. To
belong to a party, nay, even to have a single friend, is so far a bias and a danger
to that nakedness in which truth must be followed. " Whenever I have been
among men I have come back less of a man," has its application in this matter
too ; and, indeed, it cannot but be that he who would be perfectly fair and honest
must get a name for being unfair and dishonest, and must be to some extent
" hated of all men " and parties. For he will see and sympathize with whatever
germ of justice each faction is built upon, and that so cordially and ungrudgingly
as to make it a matter of aggrieved astonishment that he is equally ready to
laugh at their extravagances, and by no means prepared to participate in their
bigotries. This they will by no means tolerate ; he who will go with them one
mile must, forsooth, be compelled to go with them twain ; and he who will give
them his coat must give them his cloak also. He, then, who desires liberty will
eschew labels; for a label marks us at once as the property or baggage of some-
body else. As God's property we need not be ashamed to be labelled Catholic
Christians, but all beyond this is needless servitude.

Father Tyrrell continues in these words: "If it were not for this inevitable
tail-developing propensity, an association of those of one mind for the further-
ance of a good cause would be a source of great strength and solace to the
individuals so united, and of great profit to society at large. But no sooner is
there a movement for, say, a wider and more intelligent interpretation of orthodox
principles than it is at once joined by a ragtag and bobtail of semi-educated
novelty-mongers athirst for that cheap notoriety which is purchased by reck-
lessly destructive criticism, who make the cause ridiculous in the eyes of all
sober-minded men, and thus play into the hands of the party which they are
laboring to extinguish. If, on the other hand, there is a constructive or con-
servative party laboring for the prevention or cure of such extravagances, its
loudest-mouthed allies will be just those who have the least intelligent sympathy
with the principles which justify its existence, and will in like manner verify the
truth that a man's foes are those of his own household."

These cynical remarks were elicited apropos of a little book published by
Lecoffre, of Paris, called L.'%lise et la pitid envers les animaux, by La Marquise

144 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [April, 1900.]

de Rambures, a collection of extracts from Catholic writers of various degrees
of authority on the subject of our duties towards dumb animals. Here in this
" zoophilist " movement, as it is called, we have an instance of a good cause
made disreputable and ridiculous by the tail which it has developed. No one
who has in the most casual way followed the literature of the movement for the
last ten or twenty years; who has seen the shallowness and falsehood of the
principles on which a duty (in itself undeniable and solidly defensible) is based ;
or who has weighed the preposterous consequences to which those, principles
mast lead, would care to label himself "zoophilist," seeing how that label has
been dragged in the gutter and trampled under hoof. And yet in refusing to
do so he will be at once branded as a blood-thirsty vivisectionist, and will
probably be regarded by these latter as a secret but timorous ally, while in
truth he may be incapable of compassing the death of a cockroach.

At the risk of bringing down an avalanche on his head, Father Tyrrell
ventures to pass one or two adverse criticisms on this well-meant and interest-
ing little book. He asks : Is it not a mistake to try to saddle the church with
any doctrine in the matter whatever? Revelation was not given us to teach us
anything that is easily accessible to our reason and natural instincts; it may,
indeed, add supernatural sanctions to the natural law, as in the case of stealing.
But otherwise we did not need revelation to tell us that stealing was wrong. If
at any time the question of animals' rights became so acute as to threaten to
divide Christendom the church might intervene; but otherwise it is not her part
to interfere in a matter so easily resoluble. Then, if we are to take the zoophily
of a few Catholic saints and holy persons as an indication of the mind of the
church, why should not contrary conduct on the part of other Catholics be
equally adduced on the other side ? If the more merciful view has its advocates
among Catholic teachers of name, so has the less merciful. In a certain sense,
the true doctrine in the matter is, of course, the Catholic doctrine, for the
church is bound in all matters to be on the side of truth. But outside matters
of revelation and in questions of science or of natural morality, we do not ask
what is Catholic in order to know what is true; but, conversely, we ask what is
true in order to know what is Catholic.

Again, one cannot help marvelling at the unequal authority of the witnesses
adduced as favoring the gentler view in whose interest the book is written. It
is no want of respect to certain living thinkers and writers to deny their right to
be bracketed with the saints and doctors of the church, or with utterances of
pontiffs. Mrs. Abel Ram sorts oddly with Thomas Aquinas, and Father
Lescher with St. Anselm; this is calculated to give the impression of a desper-
ate case, needing to be bolstered up from any and every quarter, which, indeed,
we believe, is by no means the case. Another fault is the frequent production
of the same fact or legend; first, in some original source; then, as narrated by
some one else with approval for instance, the example of St. Francis of Assisi,
as told by St. Bonaventure and Ozanam; the example of St. Philip Neri, as re-
counted by Newman and Capecelatro. Finally, though not void of all eviden-
tial value, as testifying to the spirit of the age that gave birth to them, we could
wish that some of the examples were not quite so legendary and fanciful.

What is of most value is the teaching of accredited Catholic authorities
such as Aquinas, Scavini, a Lapide, and the like ; also, whatever tends to show
that a higher sanctity means a more delicate sympathy with all suffering, the
least as well as the greatest ; and to this end the examples of Sts. Francis,
Philip, Bernard, are plausible evidence.

* * *

The new author and title catalogue, price fifty cents, of the New York
Cathedral Free Circulating Library 123 East Fiftieth Street represents a vast
amount of patient work. It contains over five hundred pages, and may be re-
garded as one of the very best sources of information regarding the books suit-
able for general circulation. Every author admitted into this catalogue has
been submitted to a careful examination. His claims on the reading public have
been inspected and approved. No discrimination has been allowed against any
author on account of his creed or country. If this rule prevailed in all the
public libraries of the United States, our Catholic authors would be assured of
equal recognition and a larger compensation. M. C. M.

if 'aixx aynj) ^-
QNV 'K3HX

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THE

CATHOLIC WORLD,

VOL. LXXI. MAY, 1900. No. 422.

THE SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL
SETTLEMENT.

BY A. A. McGINLEY.

HERE are three principal points to the follow-
, ing general discussion of the Social Settlement.
The first will show, in as brief outline as
possible, and from the meagre statistics that the
College Settlements Association publishes in a
small pamphlet, how wide-spread and how suc-
cessful have become the operations of the Social
Settlement idea outside the church. One can-
not but be impressed, by even these summary statistics, with
the imperative importance it is to us Catholics to apprehend
the full significance of a movement that is coming home to us
so increasingly in the many and diverse interests of our lives,
both here and hereafter.

In this summary one will also be able to note, with but
very little comment to suggest it, how the working methods of
the non-Catholic Settlement can be adapted to a Catholic Settle-
ment.

Under my second heading I will try from what I know
through personal experience principally to make a contrast of
what they are doing and have done without the supreme reli-
gious motive that the Catholic would have in doing this work,
and to disclose the limitations this sets for them in contradis-
tinction to the scope the Catholic would have in making reli-
gion both the basis and the superstructure of this work.

This second heading can have, even logically, but one subject
as a sequel; and it seems to me, not only because it must
seem so, professionally, but ex corde am I persuaded of it, the

STATE OF NEW YORK. 1900.
VOL. LXXI. 10

146 SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. [May,

greatest and most important of all, namely : how this move-
ment can be used as the direct vehicle for the conversion of
souls outside the true faith.

THE GROWTH AND METHODS OF SOCIAL SETTLEMENTS OUTSIDE

THE CHURCH.

It is claimed that the formal beginning of a regular Social
Settlement was made in London, at the time when the theo-
ries of Ruskin and souls kindred to his started those fires of
social reform that have blazed ever since in the midst of
our modern civilization with all its vaunted advantages. A
definite step was taken at that time, 1867, by Edward Denni-
son, a young Oxford student of wealth and position, offering
himself to the pastor of a parish in a London slum for work
among the submerged and unfortunate class in the district.
He died after two years of devoted service. Seven -years later
came another of his spirit, Arnold Toynbee, a young tutor at
Oxford, who offered himself for a like service to a pastor in
the Whitechapel district. His life was burned out here at
white heat within ten years, but the light from it became the
inspiration upon which was founded, within ten years more, in
two continents, a movement which went to the very heart of
humanity. To die for a cause is a wonderfully potent argu-
ment. " Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay
down his life for his friends."

In the pamphlet* published by the College Settlements As-
sociation the list of foundations is prefaced by a short history
of the beginning made in London by the two young heroes
just named ; and then follows in alphabetical order the list of
foundations in this country, in Great Britain, India, and Japan. I
will give summarily only those in the United States, in the order
named :

THE SETTLEMENT ON THE PACIFIC COAST.

California has three Settlements : one in Los Angeles, " lo-
cated in a formerly favored but now decayed part of that city
and in the midst of a cosmopolitan but largely Spanish-Ameri-
can environment." (One will note as the place or its environ-
ment is named what possibilities, and more often probabilities,
there are of its affecting, through its influence, the religious
convictions of those to whom it directs its energies.) San
Francisco has a Settlement " in a sort of little community,

* The last isue of this pamphlet obtainable was published in 1897. There is one now being
issued, but it could not be had in time for this article. The growth of Settlements within the
past three years has probably doubled the statistics given by this one.

SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. 147

separated in many respects from the streets around it. There
are a few families who are well-to-do and a great many families
of workingmen earning good wages." In West Oakland is a
Settlement " located in the midst of an isolated and purely
mechanic community, 'more than two-thirds of its men and boys
being employees of the Southern Pacific Railroad in shops and
yards and on local trains." A Congregational church co-oper-
ates with this house.

Connecticut : Hartford Settlement under the auspices of the
Hartford Sociological Club. Illinois: There are twelve Settle-
ments named here in the statistics of 1897, but Chicago, as a
matter of fact, now outranks every other place in the number
of its foundations. "Chicago Commons," first named, " fulfils,"
says the report, " the long-entertained dream of Professor Graham
Taylor, of Chicago Theological Seminary, who is now in resi-
dence there with his family. The Settlement is avowedly
Christian, and is in close affiliation with the neighboring Taber-
nacle Church, to which it has always furnished a number of
efficient workers, and of which Professor Taylor has recently
assumed pastoral charge. There is no intention (italics ours) of
making proselytes, but simply a hearty desire to make a home
among homes, where the folks in it could share their lives with
their neighbors, without the artificial barriers of form that
separate man from man." Six of the Settlements here are un-
der apparent Protestant church auspices. Of the remainder, one
is under private charge wholly ; another one, entirely for the
Jews, is under their charge ; two are University Settlements ;
and the last (though as a matter of fact the leader of the rest,
not only in Chicago but probably in the United States) is Hull
House, under the direction of Miss Jane Addams, so well known
for her social theories.

THE ETHICAL versus THE PROSELYTIZING MOTIVE.

Hull House presents, in contrast to the others, the dis-
tinctive difference between the Settlement inspired by the
wholly humanitarian spirit and the one instigated and working
under the impulse of the purely missionary or proselytizing
motive. One of Miss Addams special theories is that
the Settlement from its very nature should not be a mis-
sion, because she says, quoting some authority, " there are mo-
ments when definiteness of doctrine and the meaning of men's
motives must seem the most essential thing ; and at such times
the Settlement must appear ineffective." Within this statement

148 SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. [May,

is _a subtle hint at some of the realizations which must come
at times to such a profoundly sincere and analytical mind as
Miss Addams' of the limitations the purely humanitarian method
of treatment must often come up short against in dealing with
souls.

With regard to the influence of the ethical motive as
against the proselytizing one in respect to our own people : the
latter might strive till doomsday to gain as many proselytes,
even among the unlearned and unstable, as the other would in
a year ; which statement reflects neither on the intelligence of
our people or on the motive of the humanitarian, though it
may reflect on the missionary Settlement. There would, how-
ever, be just this difference in the two kinds of proselytes: one
would be converted to something, with at least a definition as
to creed Baptist, Methodist, or what not and the other to
nothing, which is the only logical sequence a purely humanita-
rian creed would lead to, especially with the ignorant or unde-
veloped mind whose religious sense must be sought and held,
if held at all, by the most strictly defined formulas of belief.
The fine definitions the humanitarian makes in his own highly
cultivated intellect, could no more serve as a basis for building
up a creed for the race, or building up whatever he wishes to
call his theories, than would the " baseless fabric of a dream."

THE COUNTRY versus THE SLUM.

In Evanston, 111., is a Settlement " whose location is not in
the slum district, but among a somewhat well-to-do people, the
boys of which are found to need all the help and direction
the place can give." It is under the auspices of the Women's
Christian Temperance Union. Indiana has a Settlement in
Terre Haute ; Iowa one in Des Moines, the Roadside House,
inspired by a poem, suggested in turn by a line from Homer,
" He was a friend to man, and he lived in a house by the side
of the road," and one in South-west Grinnell, " in which none
of the aggravated social conditions so common in large city
centres exist." Kansas, on the other hand, has a Bethany
School which stands for its Settlement " in the degraded and
neglected section of the Kansas City ' Bottoms ' known as the
' Patch.' " Kentucky has a Neighborhood House under the
auspices of private individuals, whose desire was " to secure a
little patch of Mother Earth where we could meet on the sim-
ple basis oT manhood ; where a man 's a man and a brother,
be he Dives or Lazarus, barbarian, Scythian, bond, or free."

I QOO.] SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. 149
THE SALOON AND THE SOCIAL SETTLEMENT.

Maryland has two Settlements, one in Baltimore and one in
Locust Point. The former is managed by an association com-
posed of members from Johns Hopkins University and Chris-
tian Endeavorers from two sectarian churches. The founder, a
Protestant pastor, aimed, it is said, " to have no regular Set-
tlement, but merely a place of retreat, where he could change
his point of view from that of leading pastor, and observe first
hand the conditions and people of a congested district." The
house at Locust Point is under part charge of the W. C. T.
U. and " its main fight is with the saloon and with the devil,"
says the head resident. She says also that ' this Settlement is
a pastor's house boiled down, as there are only Catholic and
German Lutheran pastors on the Point." This probably ex-
plains also her allusion to the second named of the antagonists.

FROM MASSACHUSETTS TO MINNESOTA.

Massachusetts has ten houses mentioned here. One of these
is in Cambridge, in connection with Harvard University ; two
more are under avowedly Protestant auspices ; five are in the
line of private enterprise, one of these being under the presi-
dency and named for Edward Everett Hale. Andover Seminary
has its Settlement under the charge of that leader of social
theories of the finest order, Mr. Robert A. Woods ; and Wel-
lesley College has the best known Social Settlement in New
England, the Dennison House. Michigan has two Settlements,
one a Protestant mission and the other under the auspices of
local circles of the King's Daughters. Minnesota has a house
in Minneapolis, " in the lumber mill district, in the midst of the
saloon patrol section, where drunkenness is common and there
are few uplifting agencies." Professors and students of the
University of Minnesota co-operate in its work. In St. Paul
is a Settlement under the auspices of a Congregational church
which has in connection with it a lodging-house, wood-yard,
labor exchange, library, etc.

THE SETTLEMENT IN THE FACTORY TOWN.

Missouri has two houses in St. Louis, one in secular and
the other in clerical charge. The minister who has charge of
the latter says : " My conception of the work is that of a
Social Settlement on distinctively Christian lines ; an attempt
to realize the prayer * Thy kingdom come,' toward the attain-
ment of which realization the bath, kitchen, gymnasium, etc.,

i5o SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. [May,

are as necessary and integral factors as the service of the
church." Nebraska has a Settlement in Lincoln in connection
with the University of Nebraska. New Jersey has three houses :
one in Jersey City which takes for its inspiration the poet
Whittier and his lines, " He serves Thee best who loveth most
his brothers and Thy own " ; another in the Orange Valley
under the auspices of a committee of citizens there. The situa-
tion of this Settlement, in what is regarded as a veritable gar-
den of a place to live in, will again suggest the wider field of
the Social Settlement* in the country. The work of this house
is devoted to the population which works in the hat factories
of the Orange Valley. The house in Passaic has much the same
kind of a field.

NEW YORK'S LARGE FIELD.

In New York State there are named nineteen Settle-
ments altogether, though this is far short of the actual
number now in existence in this city alone. However, we
will have to take just these as an illustration of the work
done here. Sixteen out of this number are in this city.
Brooklyn has one and Buffalo two. The former Neighborship
Settlement has the students and professors of Pratt Institute
for co-operators, and has a very unique feature that presents
still another striking possibility for the Catholic Settlement. It
is located in a part of one of the great model tenements
which we have become so familiar with in our large cities, and
one of which has already opened such a promising field for
the co-operators in St. Rose's Settlement for the Italians in
New York, under the auspices of the Dominicans.

THE SETTLEMENT IN THE GREAT MODEL TENEMENT.

The Neighborship Settlement boasts that it is " under the
same roof with some sixty families who represent every grade
of working people, from those who have pianos and call
their flats * apartments ' to the extremely poor who live in
two rooms and are daily sufferers for want of the necessaries
of life." One unfamiliar with the construction and con-
veniences of this new kind of tenement-house may think
this presents an unpleasant aspect as a living condition for one
not of these classes. Personal acquaintance, however, would
prove it far different. There is perhaps not a better field for
social work in the city than is found in these great buildings,
and certainly not a pleasanter one. Both the Buffalo houses
are in connection with Presbyterian churches. Ten out of the

1 900.] SCOPE OF THE CA THOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. 151

sixteen Settlements in New York City are under distinctly
Protestant auspices. The remaining six are for the most part
purely social or ethical. Rivington Street College Settlement
claims the honor of being the first real Settlement started in
America. It began in 1889. The Union Theological Seminary
has its Settlement up on the east side of the city, as has also
the Normal College. There is also a Settlement composed en-
tirely of nurses, the character of whose work may be known
by its name.

A SETTLEMENT AMONG THE MOUNTAINEERS.

A unique contrast to the State which is in the lead in this
great movement is presented by the one next on the list North
Carolina which has a log-cabin Settlement in a remote
mountain district where only recently a railroad has pene-
trated. In this place of ignorance and isolation (and we have
of late years become very familiar with the extent of the
former there through the reports of our missionaries to non-
Catholics printed in The Missionary) is a regular Social Settle-
ment carried on, as far as is consistent with its different en-
vironment, according to the methods of the city Settlement,
with the additional co-operation of a mission chapel. This
tiny spot in the wilderness is the Mecca, no doubt, for those
lonely mountaineers into whose isolated lives come very few
of the human joys created through fellowship with one's kind.
A passing glance at or mere mention of these things suggests
the unlimited influence the ruling spirit of a Social Settlement
must exercise in such conditions.

Ohio has three Settlements, one of which is singular in
that it was started and has since been conducted in a
thoroughly equipped building erected for the purpose and
costing $80,000, the gift of one philanthropist. Pennsylvania
has five houses, one in Pittsburg and four in Philadelphia.
Two of these are Protestant and one a college Settlement.
One of the three differs from the usual kind of household in
having a family instead of single persons as residents. The
father is a college man and a graduate of two theological
seminaries. There are children, and the normal life of a family
is maintained. The last named in this list of Settlements is
the " Happy Home " in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

A CATHOLIC SETTLEMENT IN LONDON.
A consideration of the Social Settlements abroad is, of

152 SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. [May,

course, outside the limits of this article, but there are one or
two facts in connection with the work there worth considering
here. The first is in connection with the Catholic Settlement
already established in London, Newman House, which, says the
report of it in the preceding list, " was established as a centre
for' Catholic lay work in Southwark on the lines of Oxford
House, Toynbee Hall, and other centres, and which will be
supported by representatives, not only of the universities but
of the Catholic schools and colleges. A Catholic Club,
Students' Union, and Boys' Home, which were already established
in Southwark, are grouped together under the title of Newman
House."

THE INFLUENCE OF THE SETTLEMENT PLAN IN FOREIGN MISSIONS.

There are Settlements in Asia and Africa, claims this re-
port, arguing that the methods employed by the foreign mis-
sionary are so much in accord with those of the regular Social
Settlement that they are warranted in calling them such. One
of them writing on this point says : " Our foreign missionary
boards do not send men and women simply to itinerate, to
open mission schools on the Sabbath, or to preach here and
there among the millions. All this has its value, but it is
merely surface work as compared with the influence and the
results that come from the establishment of a Christian home
among the people, inviting them into it, making them feel at
home there, having nothing too nice or too sacred for them to
see and touch." Another thus defines the scope of the methods
in these conditions : " The missionary goes to reside in a
heathen land, as Toynbee's friends went to live in East London,
and with the same purpose. He wants to know the people
and to have them know him. He must come in contact with
them, must share their sympathy, and so, through the binding in-
fluence of personal ties, give them an impulse to better things.
Just as the resident of the college Settlement gradually realizes
that mere plumbers and decorators cannot eradicate selfishness,
so the foreign worker soon finds that he too must concern him-
self with social environment no less than with personal
character. . . . Accordingly, every missionary's home is a
social centre. It is the point from which the rays of light
are sent into darkened homes. It was a revelation to the Chinese
peasantry to know of a family where the husband never beat
his wife. The villagers of the Turkish Empire had a new view
of the family relation when they saw the American women sit

1900.] SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. 153

down to eat at the same table with the men, instead of serv-
ing their fathers and brothers and then making a meal off
what was left."

THE SOCIAL CREED IS PRACTICAL.

The social creed has its foundations embedded deep down
in the common, earthy soil of human nature. If it builds
airy castles, it never fails to sink first the great solid rocks of
a secure foundation for them by beginning its teachings with
arguments that go right to the bottom of the human heart.
Its point of perfection might be defined by the one word
" Give," not silver and gold, nor food and raiment, but your-
self, your best self, to humanity. The Catholic would reverently
add: even as "God, who so loved the world that he sent his
only begotten Son to redeem it." The Catholic can put the
crowning and completing motive then upon this doctrine, which
we feel to be of God, when his brethren without the faith must
stop at their very best at that one poor little, ever-receding
point: humanity, only for humanity must I lay down my life.

THE HUMANITARIAN MORE SINCERE THAN THE PROTESTANT

MISSIONARY.

Some of these workers it is true do make religious faith
the motive of their lives, but the most far-reaching and suc-
cessful Social Settlements outside the church are those founded
on a purely humanitarian or ethical basis. These too, I be-
lieve, are the most earnest and the most self-sacrificing in their
efforts. They are generally made up of persons who long since
have cut free from the dissensions and the belittling narrow-
ness of sectarian creeds, and with their own individual concep-
tion of the teachings of the Gospel are sincerely striving,
through the creed of a broad humanitarianism, to satisfy the
deep cravings of the religious instinct. The keynote of their
doctrine is " personal service " to humanity, with no less an
interpretation of what this means than what they find in the
history of Christ's ministry to creatures while on earth. The
pure disciple of the creed will repudiate the very term "char-
ity " if offered as an interpretation of what this kind of service
means. " Social justice " is all they claim they give to their
fellows in serving them thus. And there is no pose in their
attitude in all this ; they care little or nothing for the praise
of men ; the very spirit of their work seems uncongenial to
the insincere praise of the world. For ten years and

154 SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. [May,

more I have met social workers of this class in the closest
kind of association, and say these things of them from the in-
sight this has given me into their character as a class.

MORAL AND PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS OF THE SOCIAL WORKER.

I have never known personally more genuine manifesta-
tions of the simple Christian virtues of unselfishness, kindness,
humility, and self-forgetfulness than I have found among them ;
and always in such sweet, unobtrusive guise. They do not
carry on their persons or in their outward behavior a single
distinctive mark of this hidden heroism of life ; not so much as a
tiny badge on their dress or a feather in their hat which makes
a finger point to their profession. Physically, the type of
young woman found at the Settlement is the well-trained col-
lege graduate, witrj a pretty sound mind in a usually very
sound body. Their very personal appearance, clad as they
generally are in the simplest and most comfortable fashion in
dress, gives an immediate contradiction to any suspicion that
the feminine sentiment that leads to fads or singularities may
explain their presence in such unlikely conditions. They go in
and out through the streets of the slum districts with little or
no thought generally of personal danger, as they attract no
attention among the ordinary pedestrians of the crowded
streets from the simplicity and unaffectedness of their outward
appearance; and if they do become known among the denizens
of the district, it only secures them respect, and often affection,
for the service they are rendering to the less fortunate than they*

THE SPIRIT OF THE SOCIAL WORKER.

I have a mental picture which I have kept undimtned
through years of a little incident which illustrates well the
spirit of the true social worker. Returning to the city one
evening some six or seven years ago, from a college town in
Massachusetts, I had for company on the train one of the
younger instructors at the college, who at the time was in
residence at the Dennison House. (This is the Settlement in
connection with Wellesley College.) It was one of those hor-
rid November evenings when one thinks that no fireside but
one's own can thaw the chill out of one's bones, and no faces
but the home faces can cheer. From the station where we
both left the train our way took us through a part of the
better section of Boston, known as the Back Bay. My com-
panion stood with me while I waited for my car, and on my
querying as to how far she had herself to go she said, " To

1900.] SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. 155

Tyler Street, of course." This is where the Dennison House
is, situated in what to the Boston native means one of the
most unsavory of the city slums, known locally as the South
Cove. " But," I protested, " you live near by, don't you ? "
" Oh, yes, right over there," pointing across Copley Square at
one of a group of houses within what is considered the very
inner circle of the favored few. The lights of home shone out
before her hospitably through the cold, drizzling mist, yet be-
yond as her goal lay the dark, crooked streets of the South
Cove, with a fireside she and her kind had built there of warm
human sympathy to cheer those whose lives were chilled from
lack of either kind of warmth. Not a single external obligation
was there to keep her from turning her face towards the home
of father and mother and kindred, no vow to break, no out-
ward observance to sustain, nothing but the staunch, hidden
principle which made her think her obligation lay with one and
not the other.

NEITHER GLORY NOR MONEY A MOTIVE.

The residents at these Settlements, you must know, are not
paid salaries for the service they give. The head worker only
receives a salary from the association or management which
maintains the house in its principal expenses. The rest of the
residents pay a fixed sum for their board while living in the
house as members of the household. This supplies part of the
maintenance of the house. Some of them give 'all their time
to the various kinds of works performed for the benefit of the
neighborhood, and some may have an avocation or profession
of one kind or another which employs them part of their
time.

They have a happy home life among themselves, with a
stated share in the co-operation of the household, each one
having allotted to her the kind of work with the kind of per-
sons in the neighborhood she is most adapted for ; and she
has unhampered charge of this special work. The head worker
is just what her name says: the one who does the most work
generally, and by greater knowledge or longer experience knows
how to do this work the best. She has, of course, no arbitrary
direction of the members of the household, but works with
them as one of themselves. They employ no corps of servants
to keep the house in order, but use the opportunities afforded
them of making a practical demonstration to the neighbors,
who unceasingly observe them in every little thing they do,

1 56 SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. [May,

that they are not above doing the simplest household duties
within their strength. " I have to sweep the front steps this
week," said a friend to me, who was at the time living at the
Rivington Street House down in the Bowery. She was draw-
ing no attention to the matter, but simply mentioned it among
other numerous little duties when explaining why she could
not make some appointments at certain hours. She was a
young college graduate of the finest culture and family connec-
tions, and (this is a significant fact) a recent convert to our
faith who had been able to find no field but this one in which
to realize her own ideas as to what real personal service for
humanity meant.

Such a one is not distinctive, however, in the household of
a Social Settlement, and could claim no honor there for exalted-
ness in standards or heroism in practice. She often remarked
to me that many a time she felt humbled at the unconscious,
unaffected ways of her associates in their discharge of the little,
menial duties of the daily life of the household ; and that insin-
cerity or pose simply could not find room for existence there
in their busy, cheerful lives of service for their neighbor.

A glance through one of the programmes of organized work
of such a Settlement will assure one that this must be practi-
cally so. From Sunday noon till ten o'clock Saturday night,
and almost daily from nine o'clock in the morning, they are en-
gaged in some kind or other of club, class-meeting, or simply
recreative employment with the humanity around them, from
the mite in the kindergarten to its tired mother and its older
brothers and sisters.

This glance at their daily routine of life covering the entire
week gives one the best idea of it. For instance, to take a day's
work here and there out of the rest : Monday afternoon : I. Girls
from 8 to 14 ; Systematic sewing, followed by singing and games,
3:30 to 5. Sewing Class for working girls. Making shirt-waists,
8 to 9:30. 2. Kindergarten Club. 3. Boys from 7 to 9 ; Manual
training, 3:30 to 5. 4. Cooking Class for school girls. Monday
evening : Cooking Class for working girls, 7:30 to 9:30. Tues-
day morning: Class for crippled children, 9:30 to 12. Monday
evening: Athletic Club. Boys from 15 to 17; Business meet-
ing, followed by gymnastics and dancing. (I remember even-
ings at a Settlement in Boston seeing these half-grown, un-
cbuth lads changed for the time being into young courtiers
from the privilege it was to them to have for partners in this
simple, enjoyable dancing the gracious and graceful women

i goo.] SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. 157

who knew just how far to stoop to bring up to a higher level
those who had fallen out of the harmony and happiness of life.)
It is hardly likely, after tasting the fine flavor of such compan-
ionship, that the allurements of the low dance-hall could have
much relish for even the coarser-grained among such as these.
The immense restraining and educating power of a fine per-
sonality shines in such an environment like a beacon-light in
the night.

And what a far-reaching influence such things must have
with the poor and simple, and the little ones! Put alongside
of such personal service mere abstract arguments of the moral
law, and what force can they have with the untutored and
weak of faith? Here is the point which should give the most
concern : the living demonstration this must seem to the sim-
ple-minded of real Christian lives lived in the most ideal way,
without perhaps a single definite profession of the true Chris-
tian religion. Is it not putting a heavy tax on these weaker
ones among the brethren to expect them to hold fast to the
belief that faith only avails ?

THE SOCIAL SETTLEMENT AND THE PAROCHIAL SCHOOL.

Here is a solution to the vexed question of Catholic educa-
tion which harasses, above all others perhaps, the pastor of the
suburban parish, solicitous on the one side to perform his
whole duty towards the child and to conform to the require-
ments of the church ; and on the other hand reluctant, and
often unable, to tax his people with the heavy burden of a
parochial school. It need hardly be pointed out that the
Catholic Settlement, with its residents of the best types of
character, intelligent, cultured, spiritual-minded, and possessing
at the same time those social virtues which should be their
distinguishing traits, would exercise over the Catholic child,
brought into contact with them from infancy, the most power-
ful influence that can be conceived on the human side.

And even as an addition to the parish already provided
with its parochial school the Settlement has an important
mission. Often the exalted spiritual ideals held up for the
imitation of the child by the teaching nun fail to become its
life-standards of Christian conduct because it may never have
been able to see, in common human lives around it, a living
example of such imitation ; and the mysterious barrier that
differentiates its own life from that of the religious may, to its
inexperienced mind, make it seem that there is one standard

158 SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. [May,

of Christian conduct for the world and another for the cloister.
Let it see among the Christian types of character at the
Settlement the principles of such conduct actually applied to
daily life, and what a supreme value such an object-lesson will
have.

THE CATHOLIC SETTLEMENT AS A PARISH ADJUNCT.

To have the Settlement a regular adjunct to, and under the v
patronage of the parish church, would probably be its best
security. It would safeguard it at once from the dangers and
uncertainties of a mere experiment or hap-hazard undertaking,
with the possibility of a certain tendency towards Bohemianism
which it might take on if it were started as a private enter-
prise by a party of young persons, no matter how well in-
tentioned. It would assume at once the serious business of
realizing its true mission if it were put under the auspices of
the pastor ; he would see that it was well equipped with re-
sponsible management for conducting it, and the providing of a
competent head worker would probably be made through his
wise discretion, for, from his experience of his parishioners, he
would perhaps know best the person fitted to fill such a place.
With this kind of head worker secured, there would be little
danger of incompetence or inferiority in ability or character
among those she would have to co-operate with her. And
above all else, this would need to be guarded against.

THE CONVENT GRADUATE AS A SOCIAL WORKER.

One can imagine the future development of regular and sys-
tematic training for this kind of work in our schools, colleges,
and academies ; Social Science will be established in the curri-
culum as an ordinary study. What a field for the convent gradu-
ate is suggested here ! When she leaves the ethereally refined
atmosphere of the convent she walks in a world of ideals and
fancies which are to set her apart for ever from the common
ways of human life, or are to be shattered at the first rude touch
of worldly experience, to fall about her in fragments that she
can never piece together into the form they once were. An
avenue to the great world will be open to such a one, where her
fine training and talents may find opportunity for practical test-
ing as to their usefulness in the choosing of her future career.
There her embryonic ideals and ideas will be vitalized, through
the touch with real human life which the social work will bring
to her, into solid principles that will stand by her for ever.

1900.] SCOPE OF THE CA THOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. 159

Missions to non-Catholics and the Social Settlement.

What a vista of possibilities all these considerations must open
to the one zealous for the conversion of souls to the true
faith ! Especially in the country does the Catholic Settlement
promise much through co-operation with > the movement af~ mis-
sions to non-Catholics. In the country, as we all know, the
missionaries engaged in this work have found their best field.
With the Catholic Settlement as an auxiliary of the parish
church in carrying on his crusade for souls, what unfailing re-
sults may be secured by the missionary ! Here may he send
those half-converted souls who need, perhaps, only some little
touch with the human side of things in the church to give
them the necessary confidence in taking the final step. Often
is the missionary obliged to leave sadly and reluctantly behind
him such souls as these to take their chances against the ob-
stacles to their full conversion which family persecution or a
wavering will may place in their way. And again, in prepara-
tion for the advent of the missionary the Settlement will do
the best kind of work. What valuable time on his part is
often consumed in clearing away the debris of misinformation
or misunderstanding of the faith and practice of Catholics,
most of which could be removed in many cases by a half-
hour's conversation with some intelligent lay Catholic. More
than all, these people could learn by personal contact with
such Catholics which the working system of a Catholic Settle-
ment would constantly bring about what the Catholic ideals
of conduct really are. What argument could be stronger in
removing their prejudices than in learning 'through the evi-
dence of their own senses about these ideals. Under a fair
exterior of contentment and comfort the canker of the divorce
evil and its kindred abominations is eating the heart out of
the lives of many outside the church. For such as these to
learn by close observation the reality of those invincible and
unimpeachable standards of morality which the ideal Catholic
family stands for would be a revelation that would alone bring
conversion to many.

THE LIMITATIONS OF THE LAITY.

With the preparatory assistance in his work which the mis-
sionary would thus have he would be able to proceed at once
to the preaching of the doctrines of the church, which is the
main business of his sacred ministry with these unconverted

160 SCOPE OF THE CATHOLIC SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. [May,

souls. This would not be the sphere of the social worker.
Here would such recognize their limitations, as every true lay
Catholic does for the honor and security of our holy faith,
thereby evidencing a mark of its divinity which Protestantism
has never matched in the most successful of its imitations of
the true church. The trespassing of its laity upon the offices
of its ministry is perhaps the heaviest of its secret afflictions
to-day. The lines of its sanctuary have been obliterated by
the encroachments of the latter far beyond their once defined
limit. How truly and unfailingly, on the contrary, the Catho-
lic laity recognize, in working for the spiritual and moral wel-
fare of their fellows, just where their office ceases and that of
the priest begins ; the limit beyond which human effort can-
not go ; those depths of soul which can be sounded and probed
only through the heart-searching ministrations of the sacra-
ments conveyed by consecrated hands.

GUI BONO ?

Those who may call this new outlook upon the prospects
of the future for the regeneration of our Catholic social life
" visionary," forget that this is its first and necessary phase of
being in proving its worthiness for realization. " The world is
governed more by its ideals than its ideas," said Cardinal
Gibbons recently. The vision first in the region of ideality,
and the inspiration which comes from it to give courage and
enthusiasm in making the start. Plenty of adversity will come
to test its worth, and will prove but the shaping process of the
rough, unhewn stone. Criticism will come and pessimism of
every shade and degree; from the gentle, self-deprecating sort
which kind old " Daddy Dan " indulged in when regarding the
"improvements" of his New Curate, to the kind that hugs
the deadly ' Cut Bono f " to itself to deaden the prick of con-
science when stirring it up to new endeavor, and which has
hanging up in a secret chamber of its heart not in big black
letters over its mantel-shelf, like honest " Father Tom Laverty "
the cynical motto : " Twill be all the same a hundred years
from now."

This is the kind of spirit that blights the energies most
effectually, and it is the kind most opposed to the spirit of
this movement, whose watchword is : "I am my brother's
keeper."

1900.] THE AMERICAN VILLA AT CASTEL GANDOLFO. 161

THE AMERICAN VILLA AT CASTEL GANDOLFO.

BY P. L. CONNELLAN.

HE traveller in Rome who ascends the Palatine
Hill, or climbs the tall tower of the Capitol,
beholds beneath him the Eternal City and the
great plain that surrounds it on all sides. These
are the scenes on which the deeds were enacted
that made the history of Rome one long record of greatness.
The range of hills that bounds the eastern side of the plain
which extends around Rome, and that are dotted over with
white shining towns, have, in beauty and in interest, perhaps
no parallel on this round globe. Through the midst of this
plain a straight road, the world-renowned Appian Way Regina
Viartim, the Queen of roads, as Statius termed it bounded on
either hand by the colossal ruins of ancient monuments,
stretches like a white ribbon athwart the green, until it climbs
a distant hill and is lost against the sky.

" It was no mere pliant highway of commerce," as a recent
writer describes it, " in gracious windings accommodating itself
to the needs of men and the difficulties of nature. Rigid as
the Roman rule, it scaled the hills and spanned the valleys ;
the crooked must be made straight before it, and the rough
places plain. No kindly chain, gently binding nation to nation
with friendly links ; but a weapon of war, straight as the spear
of the soldier, as the rod of the lictor, as the flight of an arrow,
it shot over mountain and chasm, through forest and marsh
not to link the nations to each other, but to bind the ends of
the earth to Rome."

At the very spot where this road, ascending the hither side
of the hill of Albano, touches the sky in the view, stands the
Villa Santa Caterina, the new summer residence of the students
of the American College, purchased at the beginning of last
spring by the Rector of the College, Monsignor W. H. O'Con-
nell. Its wall forms the boundary of the Appian Way for a
considerable distance, and two of its gates open onto this
famous road. That nearest Rome is distinguished by having a
little lodge at each side, and between these a winding avenue
of tall and stately trees is seen shading the road that leads up
to the villa.

VOL. LXXI. II

1 62 THE AMERICAN VILLA AT CASTEL GANDOLFO. [May,

At the farther gate towards Albano there is a sort of
platform reached by a double ascent, which is gentle in its
slope, as the road here is quite steep. A road breaks off
here from the Appian Way, and leads to Castel Gandolfo.
On this road there is another entrance. Nearly all the gates
of villas in this neighborhood are monumental constructions,
grandiose pillars supporting the tall iron gate, and frequently
arched over a spacious entrance. The new American Villa is
no exception to this rule ; its gates, as may be seen in the
accompanying photographs, are fine specimens of this architec-
tural feature. From the railroad station at Castel Gandolfo the
villa is distant about ten minutes' walk ; and it is most con-
veniently situated on the Appian Way, about twelve miles' dis-
tance from Rome.

When you enter the grounds by any of these gates the in-
terior in no way belies the promise of the exterior. Tall trees
and high hedges, furnishing grateful shade in the summer days,
border the wide, winding walks that by many a gentle turn as-
cend to the building the villa itself. Here you feel that you
are in Italy. The umbrella pines,

" . . . whose only boughs
Are gathered round their dusky brows,"

alternate with tall, tapering cypresses an umbrella open and
an umbrella closed, as the German professor of landscape
painting described them and are characteristic of the land.
But while these are the more abundant trees that lend their
grateful shade to this delightful spot, there are others, such as
ilex or evergreen oak, the rose flowered oleander, the shiny-
leaved laurel, and hosts of shrubs and flowering plants and
roses which seem never to wholly fade, and great masses of
cactus that suggest the mildness of the climate. It is the pines,
however, which dominate the scene, and their rounded tops
form a fascinating feature in the landscape.

As one approaches the villa it becomes evident that the
custom followed by the old Romans and the later Renaissance
Italians in their selection of a site is that which presided over
the construction of the house in this spot. One of the greatest
modern authorities on ancient Rome, the Commendatore Rodol-
fo Lanciani, tells us that in the Imperial period these villas
were all modelled on a uniform pattern, rising in steps and
terraces from the foot of the hill, each terrace supported by
huge foundation walls, ornamented with niches and nymphaea.

1900.] THE AMERICAN VILLA AT CASTEL GANDOLFO. 163

THE VILLA, FRONT HALL, AND PIAZZA IN FRONT OF PALACE.

The general type of a Latin villa, he adds, was praiseworthy
for two reasons : first, because from the edge of each platform
the eye could freely command every point of the horizon ;
secondly, because great effects in the way of fountains and
tiny cascades could be produced by a comparatively small
quantity of water. And Vernon Lee describes the Italian villa
of the fifteenth century as a well-planned palace situated on
some gentle hill-side, its rooms spacious and lofty, and sparsely
windowed for coolness in summer, with a neat cloistered court
in the centre, ventilating the whole house, and affording a cool
place full of scent of flowers and sound of fountains for the
burning afternoons ; a belvedere tower also on which to seek
a breeze on stifling nights, when the very stars seem faint for
heat, and the dim, plumy heads of cypress and poplar are
motionless against the misty blue sky.

Neither one of these descriptions fit the new summer residence
of the American students at Rome. Spacious as is the villa
they have now it occupies but a part of the ancient Roman
villa that once stood there. Neither does it resemble a fifteenth
century Florentine suburban palace. It is much more modest.

164 THE AMERICAN VILLA AT CASTEL GANDOLIO. [May,

As the visitor passes from the shaded walks into a circular
space, surrounded save on one side by trees, tiny fountains
pour their streams into rock-enclosed basins, and the terrace in
front of the house is before him. Winding steps lead up to
it, and when it is reached it is found to be spacious, pictur-
esquely shaded by round-topped pine-trees, with seats placed
near the wrought-iron balustrade which rises in front of it, and
over which one may see the great stretch of the Campagna, with
Rome shining like a vision in the quiet sunshine twelve miles
away. The building has been described as a splendid palace
of a graceful , barocco style of architecture, four stories in
height. Yet this is but a bald account of it ; there is a sub-
stantial grandeur about it enhanced by its fitness for its present
purpose. The idea of the architect of such a villa is to create
a harmony between the house and its surroundings, and hence
the arrangement of the gardens amidst which the house is
placed is also the work of the architect. Much of the daily
life in summer is passed out of doors, and hence this is pro-
vided for. Seats are placed along the walks at intervals, where
a student may read or study amidst the great quietude of the
spot, and the soothing silence which is broken only by the song
of the birds or the hum of insects. The idea of the architect
in such arrangement of gardens was, as a recent writer puts
it, that not only was the house to be lived in, but that one
still wished to be at home while out of doors ; so the garden
was designed as another apartment, and the groves and terraces
still others. And that is the idea that animated the architect
of this villa of Santa Caterina.

The hall that opens from the terrace is particularly attrac-
tive. Its walls are adorned with charming pictures in fresco.
The cool, glazed tiles of the floor and the light tint of the
painted walls contrast pleasantly with the yellow sunshine out-
side. Here all is fresh and cool, and even the cane chairs and
delicate-hued settees arranged along the walls convey a sense
of coolness which is grateful. A white marble staircase at the
further end of the hall, leading to the rooms above, and a
marble pedestal supporting a bust of Leo XIII., adds a sense
of richness to this noble entrance. Much might be said of the
paintings on the walls. They are admirable decorations in ex-
quisitely subdued tones of color. They are landscapes, faint
and dream-like, full of a luminous haze :

" The light that never was, on sea or land ;
The consecration, and the poet's dream. " a

igoo.] THE AMERICAN VILLA AT CASTEL GANDOLFO. 165

Here the artist, a poet in his own way, gives to our minds
a suggestion of distance and of lovely sunshine. The scenes
he presents to our eyes in the panels on the walls of this hall
are the landscapes of the neighborhood, but they are not
representations of any actual scenes, but rather an expression
and interpretation of the characteristics of the landscapes by
which he was surrounded. His name deserves a record, for he
has done good work and given ideals of pleasant places, though
he was but a wall painter, as so many greater men have been,
such as Giotto, Raphael, Michael Angelo, Pinturicchio, and
Leonardo da Vinci. On the walls of the upper hall there may
be read the name : Sre. Collichellino, Pinxit. A. Domini
MDCCCLXXVII.

The chapel of this villa is dedicated to Saint Catherine of
Alexandria, whose uncommon erudition, as Alban Butler has
it, " and the extraordinary spirit of piety by which she sancti-
fied her learning and the use she made of it," led her to be
chosen in the schools as the patroness and model of Christian
philosophers. The appropriateness of having a students' chapel
dedicated to her is evident to all. Over the altar is an excel-
lent oil painting representing the saint, and bearing the artist's
name and the date of the work : " P. Mallarini. Fee : 1785 "
a date which shows the picture to be one hundred and four-
teen years old.

The Villa Santa Caterina was until now the property of
the princely house of Orsini, and was built by a member of
this family about thirty years ago. The ground on which it
stands had been part of the property of Duke Torlonia, and
when a daughter of this family, Donna Maria Luisa Torlonia,
married one of the Orsinis, these grounds, with a little lodge
which stood in them, were given to the newly-wedded couple.
They were so pleased with the place that they had this villa
built here for a summer residence. It is strange to find the
American College coming into possession of this property of
the Orsini. The college in Rome was originally the palace of
a lady married into that great family, Donna Francesca Bag-
lioni Orsini, who, after the death of her husband, turned her
home into a Dominican convent, and passed the remainder of
her days there as a nun. It passed afterwards into the hands
of the Visitation Nuns before being acquired for the students
of the United States.

When M. Ren Bazin was travelling to Alba de Tormes
in Spain, where Saint Teresa is buried, he kept thinking of the

i66 THE AMERICAN VILLA AT CASTEL GANDOLFO. [May,

words of that great Spanish saint : " Peu import e de dejeuner avec
la moitie d*une sardine, pour vu que ce soit devant un beau pay sage''
One might even go without this scant breakfast in presence of
the glorious landscape that opens out around and beneath the
terrace of this villa. On the left, down through the plain of
the Campagna, stretch the New and Old Appian Ways, which
are united in one road down to the Tavern, or Osteria, of the
Fratocchie, and there they separate : the latter scarcely trod-
den now except by some inquiring tourist or learned traveller,
who desires to examine the monuments of Rome's great days ;
while the New Appian Way is now the highway of peaceful
traffic. Away to the left the sea, that glorious Mediterranean,

" The least in compass and the first in fame,"

shines like a shield of burnished silver on the horizon, and
against its brilliant surface rise darkly the towers that once
shielded the little sea-side towns that rise here and there. In
front is spread forth the wide, many-hued Campagna in all its
pathetic memories and weird beauty. And still further be-
yond, in the dim distance, the mighty dome of St. Peter's,
that white sign and symbol of the 'only stable life of Rome,
rises grandly against the sky over all the rest of the city,
where it

" Sits like a hive o'er hoarded prayer and pardon."

Every foot of this soil, that in all its rare and ever- changing
beauty stretches out before the eyes of the young American
student who contemplates it from the terrace of this villa, is
consecrated by memories of religion and of history. Here as
in an illustrated volume the student may conjure up the deeds
of those who lived amid these scenes " in the brave days of
old " ; and he may, by the help of many a statue and bas-
relief and ancient inscription, picture to himself what manner
of men were those who fill so large a space in the records of
the world that has passed away, and the ruins of which lie
beneath his feet.

Even the ground on which he stands is famous in history.
Without going back to the misty records of early Roman
times, he will find interesting memories associated with this
very villa. According to an opinion which carries great pro-
bability with it, the new summer residence of the American
students "stands on part of the land once included in the villa
of Clodius. To the readers of Cicero the name of Clodius is

THE AMERICAN VILLA AT CASTEL GANDOLFO. 167

MAIN AVENUE, THE TEMPLE OF THE BONA DEA, AND GATEWAY TOWARDS CASTEL

GANDOLFO.

familiar, as the deadly enemy of that orator. Clodius, de-
scended from the proud family of the Claudii, espoused the
cause of the plebeians, and became the opponent of Milo,
descended from a plebeian family, who upheld the aristocratic
cause. The hatred and strife which had long existed between
these two party leaders came to a crisis at Bovillae, a little
town on the Appian Way, about two miles this side of the
Villa Santa Caterina. On that day a prediction of Cicero
found its fulfilment: "If Milo meets Clodius, he will kill
him," wrote Cicero to his friend Atticus. And so it fell out.
Clodius had gone to Aricia, and on the following day he came
to his villa " near the Alban Mount," where he intended to
sleep. The late renowned archaeologist, William Henzen, for
many years secretary to the German Archaeological Institute
of Rome, held that in the immediate vicinity of the Temple
of the Bona Dea rose the villa of Clodius, and that it was
conterminous with what became later the Imperial Villa of
Domitian, the grandeur and extent of which it rivalled.

The Temple of the Bona Dea, now in ruin, is in the grounds

168 THE AMERICAN VILLA AT CASTEL GAKDOLFO. L Mav

of the American villa. The villa of Domitian occupied the
site of the present Villa Barberini at Castel Gandolfo, and
huge remains of the imperial villa are still to be seen attesting
the magnificence which Domitian brought to the adornment of
his summer residence above the Lake of Albano.

In this villa of Clodius, which covered in part the land
occupied by the villa of the Americans for the Temple of the
Bona Dea which is in their villa was not in that of Clodius
that partisan leader expected to pass the night ; but learning
that his architect had died he set out for Rome. When he
reached Bovillae he fell in .with his enemy Milo, who was
travelling with his wife and family, attended, as was Clodius,
by an armed retinue, on his way to Lanuvium, now Civita
Lavinia, to which the students make excursions occasionally.
A battle ensued ; a gladiator of Milo's party, named Birria, at-
tacked Clodius from behind and wounded him badly in the
shoulder. His friends carried him into a tavern hard by, per-
haps that of which the Osteria delle Fratocchie is the successor.
Milo's men besieged the tavern ; Clodius was dragged forth on
the road, and there despatched by the daggers of his enemies.
The dead body was taken to Rome, and its presence there
caused a greater riot and more destruction than Clodius did
during his life-time. Fulvia, his widow, appeared in the Forum,
shrieking in her sorrow and pointing to the wounds in her
husband's body in order to rouse the people to rage. It was
placed before the Rostra, from which orators harangued the
people. Finally it was borne into the Curia, and placed upon
a funeral pile formed of tables and benches, and set on fire.
The Curia took fire and was burned down the venerable
monument founded by King Tullus Hostilius five centuries be-
fore and with it perished the Basilica Porcia, and other
neighboring buildings. Cicero prepared an eloquent oration in
defence of Clodius, but did not deliver it, as the feeling of the
people was opposed to him, but he sent it to Milo at Marseilles,
to which place he had escaped. It forms one of the great ora-
tions in the collection of the famous orator. Fulvia, Clodius's
widow, married Mark Antony, and when a proscription list was
drawn up by her husband and his party she desired that Cicero's
name should be included in it. When the great orator was killed,
she, it is said, got possession of his head, and with the bodkin
used for fastening her hair she pierced that eloquent tongue !

In the" vicinity of the Temple of the Bona Dea Clodius
met his death. A statue of the goddess was found in Albano

1900.] THE AMERICAN VILLA AT CASTEL GANDOLFO. 169

a few years ago, where it formed the ornament of a garden
belonging to Mr. Henry Franz. It evidently came from this
temple in the villa of Santa Caterina. The statue is in Greek
marble, seated on a chair and throne, with a cornucopia in the
left hand ; the right arm is broken off at the elbow. There is
an inscription on the base of the chair which reads :

" Ex visit jussu Bonce Dece sacrum
Calhstus- Rufincz nostrce actor"

This temple, or sacrarium, of the Bona Dea stood in the
property of Titus Sextius Gallus, according to Marucchi, and is
mentioned by Cicero in his Pro Milone when he describes the
death of Clodius, who received the first blow in front of this
temple, and died at a little distance off near the tavern of Bovillae ;
a circumstance, adds Marucchi, which the great orator turned
to account when he showed that the death of that disturber was
as a vengeance from the gods for his former sacrilege. That
sacrilege was his presence at the house of Pompeia, Caesar's
wife, during the celebration of the mysteries of the Bona Dea,
when he contrived to enter the forbidden precincts disguised
as a singing girl. It was sternly forbidden to any male to
assist at these mysteries, which were originally intended for
women alone. Caesar put away his wife rather than bring
Clodius to trial, replying to those who remonstrated with him :
'* Caesar's wife should be above suspicion." That Clodius should
perish at the threshold of the Temple of the Bona Dea, near
Bovillae, whose mysteries he had outraged, is one of those
strange coincidences that one meets with in history.

It is thus evident that the American villa stands on land
that once formed part of two villas, one belonging to Clodius
and the other to Titus Sextius Gallus. Of the historic temple
there is but little left to-day. A road, paved in the antique
style with large polygonal blocks of lava well and closely set
together, leads from the adjoining Appian Way to this temple,
and indicates the honor in which it was held, and the frequency
of visits to it. A few low walls in reticulated work, formed of
tufa, some square blocks scattered here and there, the bases
of columns and slabs of pavement, are all that is left of this
suburban shrine to which the women of the neighborhood
thronged of old. Three columns of peperino stone are stand-
ing here, but they are of very recent date, erected to commem-
orate events or persons connected with the recent proprietors of

170 THE AMERICAN VILLA AT CASTEL GANDOLFO. [May,

the villa. On one of them is an inscription in Italian referring
to the day of suffrage for the soul of Prince Don Domenico
Orsini (3d July, 1874), whose children came here: Giacinta,
Filippo, Giulia, with a number of his nephews. Another column
bears an inscription relating that, on 3d September, 1874, there
were brought here the mortal remains of Paolo Giordano
Rodolfo Orsini. These are family memorials of the Orsinis
who owned the villa, and they relate chiefly to death and
sorrow.

Associations and memories of the past are abundant here.
At Bovillae again there is a memory of Julius Caesar and of
Augustus. It was the boast of that city that it had been the
cradle of the Julian gens. The altar of the sanctuary which that
great family had at Bovillae is now to be seen standing in the
Colonna Gardens on the Quirinal Hill at Rome, and bearing
incised upon its sides the dedicatory inscription of this Julian
gens to Jove. When Augustus died at Nola, in the south of
Italy, his body was embalmed and brought to Rome, " carried
by the magistrates of the municipal towns and colonies," as
Suetonius relates, " from Nola to Bovillae, and in the night-time
because of the season of the year [the summer]. During the
intervals the body lay in some basilica or great temple of each
town. At Bovillae it was met by the Equestrian Order, who
carried it to the city, and deposited it in the vestibule of his
own house."

And later, along the same road, a way-worn traveller pro-
ceeds. He has landed in Italy at Pozzuoli near Naples, and he
walks on the Appian Way to Rome, where in the persecution
of Nero, in the year 67, he will be decapitated at the Three
Fountains, beyond the Ostian Gate. His name is Paul, and
the memory of his footsteps on this ancient way renders it
dear to every Christian since that day. And Cardinal Newman,
describing the coming to Rome of the Prince of the Apostles,
the first Pope, probably by the same route, " advancing towards
the heathen city, where, under a divine guidance, he was to fix
his seat," tells how u he toiled along the stately road which
led him straight onward to the capital of the world. He met
throngs of the idle and the busy, of strangers and natives, who
peopled the interminable suburb." And so went onwards
amidst the motley crowd to the great city in which " he was
destined then to commence an age of religious sovereignty, in
which they might spend their own heathen times twice over, and
not see its end ! "

1900.] THE AMERICAN VILLA AT CASTEL GANDOLFO. 171

" WHEN YOU ENTER THE GROUNDS BY WAY OF THESE GATES THE INTERIOR
IN NO WAY BELIES THE EXTERIOR."

There are many themes of thought here for a student.
" He who hears not the footsteps of great spirits ever ac-
companying him in Rome," wrote one who loved it dearly,
" is deaf indeed ; he who does not read, on the most defaced
monument, a lesson, often special, wiser than that of many
books, hath eyes and seeth not." And few places are better
suited in which to read the lessons of the past and the
memories of the days gone by than the American Villa at
Castel Gandolfo. There stands the Papal summer residence
used by the Pontiff until 1870, when the Italian invaded Rome
and he became a moral captive, by the necessity of the case, in
the Vatican. Beneath this Papal dwelling lies the Lake of
Albano

" . . . a disc of splendor
Embossed with mem'ries bright in classic story."

Along the top of the steep banks which enclose it, and down
on a lower level towards the Campagna, are the tree-shaded
walks known as the Galleria di Sopra and the Galleria di

i/2 THE AMERICAN VILLA AT CASTEL GANDOLFO. [May,

Sotto, which are pleasant even in the hottest weather. Here
one listens to the poet who invites us

" Out from Albano while the morn is golden,

Along the solemn galleries ilex-shaded,
Come walk the aisle of columns gnarled and olden,
O'er-roofed with twisted branches strangely braided."

And then the hills around Albano, filled with historic and
poetic reminiscences and picturesque in a marvellous degree,
woo the student to thoughts of great men and high deeds, and
noble self-sacrifice, and Christian duty and humility. Monte
Cavo, overlooking the scene, is alive with memories. Here,
whe.re the desecrated monastery of the Passionists stands on
the summit now a meteorological station for the Italian
government stood in the early ages the great temple of the
Latin Jove.

" Here Caesar to a mightier Caesar mounted,

With retinue of splendor proud and regal,
With trophies and with floating flags uncounted,

Crowned with the semblance of Jove's grander eagle."

And from the summit of that mount the view is wide and
beautiful, embracing many scenes that are renowned in the tale
of the youth of the world :

"Over the Mediterranean in the distance
The eye goes wandering."

And the vision of beauty is enhanced by the silver mist that
broods over all

" The broad, low plain, half-hid in noonday lustre."

Away down in the valley going straight to Rome is " the
Appian Way of tombs and sorrow."

And so as the student, full of thought, returns to his home
beholding the sunlight shining on the Western sea beyond
which are his friends and the field of his future labors, it is a
consolation for him to remember that his summer residence
here, on the hill of Castel Gandolfo, ranks high among the
princely Roman villas which crown the hills of Latium, newer
than they but no less fair and noble "a genuine smile from
Paradise,* in which prevails a never-ending spring-time."

Rome, December, i8gq.

1900.] THE SONG OF THE LORD. 173

THE SONG OF THE LORD.

Sing ye to the Lord a new canticle : sing to the Lord all the earth " (Psalms).
BY MINNIE GILMORE.

III.
THE SONG OF FAME.

" How shall we sing the song of the Lord in a strange land ? " (Psalms).

SU*HY was Bianca not satisfied?

Her Milan debut had been such a triumph as
would live in musical history. The bravas of
the most critical and pitiless audience in the
world had followed her from the Opera House
even to the maestro 1 s villa, bombarded with roses in her honor,
and mobbed by a cheering, shouting, music-maddened crowd ;
for was she not one of themselves she, the dark-eyed signor-
ina of the Italian father? They called on her name, and hung
breathlessly on her voice, and made the skies ring with their
national cries of ecstasy. Such a Marguerite had never been
before, such a Marguerite would never be again ! Thus swore
the Milanese, enslaved not only by her voice and beauty, but
by the youthful innocence, the vestal purity of her dramatic
conception of the role, in which, as the opera went on, she
dazed and vanquished them by such fire and passion, such
soulful pathos, such tragic grandeur as even the sanguine and
enthusiastic maestro had not thought possible for her youth
and maidenhood. She had been surprised at herself, not know-
ing that love is the maturer of genius ; and saying only of the
superhuman power so newly and mystically her dower, " It is
a miracle of the Madonna ! " All Italy had echoed the voice
of Milan ; and later Paris Paris the autocratic, Paris the cruel,
had ratified it for both worlds, old and new. And now at
last Bianca had returned to America, where the streets she
had trodden for pennies were paved with flowers for her car-
riage, and the city in which she had hungered now made her
the queen of its feasts. Her apartments were banked with
orchids, her attire was of silk and jewels, the "seats of the
mighty" were open to her why was she not satisfied?

174 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [May,

To be sure, she had been disappointed at her failure to
trace Caterina, whom she had generously planned to enrich
beyond all the tambourine-girl's dreams of wealth; remember-
ing how Caterina had shielded her from Marco's cruelty, and
armed her to defend herself against other men more cruel,
perhaps, though less brutal ; and fed her many a supper when
Marco had come from the wine-shop ill-tempered, swearing that
the girl from the ship was not worth her salt, and ordering
her supperless to bed. Marco had been stabbed in a fight by
one upon whom Caterina had flashed her eyes once too often
so much she had been able to learn, but no more. Yet there
was always hope that she would yet discover Caterina ; and
the disappointment, at worst, was but a crumpled rose-leaf in
her life. Then why was Bianca not satisfied?

Mrs. Courtland, it is true, had received her but coldly ;
yet quite courteously, as- social courtesy is accounted, as her
son's future wife. The men of Society were all at her feet
even the scornful Darnelle to be sent away like all
others save only her beautiful pale signor ! Gold and fame
and love, all alike, then, were hers ; why was Bianca not
satisfied ?

Ah ! even she did not know not yet ! The revelations of
God come slowly. First, a divine discontent ; then, a human
desolation ; then, an inspired yearning for something, we but
dimly know what ; then, long, lonely watching, long, weary
waiting before the mystery is solved, the way of the Lord
made clear ! This is one of the ways God works in souls, and
so he worked in Bianca's, though she did not recognize his
hand. She thought only that this stage-life did not suit her ;
that the laurels of Fame made a barren harvest, which she
would be glad to exchange for Love's roses, as Vandyke Court-
land's wife. In part, it was indeed human love that gave her
a distaste for public life, for the divine works through the
human when the human is at hand ; but she knew that the
love of her heart was not all ; for the love of her soul, too,
spoke to her, its vpice like the cry of a dove for its mate
complaining, reproachful, yet tender !

She was not morbid, not even over-scrupulous. She knew
that she did not sin in her roles, for sh crossed herself as she
left the wings, and pressed the Madonna's scapular to her
heart even as she sang and acted. She knew that she caused
no sin to her hearers, for music is pure, the divine art ; and
her voice was a gift from heaven. She knew that to use her

i QOO.] THE SONG OF THE LORD. 175

talent, and not to hoard it, was to be God's faithful steward.
Then why was Bianca not satisfied?

Why, as the orchestra played, and the footlights flashed,
and the audience held their breaths as she sang, and the chorus
surrounded her, and the handsome tenor who was the Faust
to her Marguerite, the Don Jos to her Carmen, the Edgardo
to her Lucia, the Tristan to her Isolde, sang her his passionate
love-songs ; why did her thoughts revert and her heart yearn
back to the convent choir, and the organ of the church, and
the "Sanctus" of the " Messe Solennelle," and the "O Salutaris "
of the Benediction ? Why from her soul rose a cry over-ring-
ing the harmonies of the chorus and orchestra, and the cheers
of the enraptured audience the cry of the psalmist, of David,
of Jeremias, the lamentation of the people of God, remember-
ing Sion : " How shall we sing the song of the Lord in a
strange land ? "

Dimly the solution of her divine discontent began to dawn
upon her. What share had the Lord in her new life, correspond-
ing to his share in the- old ? What was she doing in the operas
for him and the Madonna, as she had once done for them in
the choirs of the convents and the churches, in the processions
of the Blessed Sacrament in the beautiful Catholic country
where Christ is not denied before men ? How should she sing
tJic song of the Lord in a strange land? It was the soul of
Bianca that was homesick !

Of course she confessed her unrest to her confessor, and con-
fided it to her lover. The priest was a broad man who knew
the pure heart of his penitent, and did not fear to await God's
clear revelation. Vandyke, however, disapproved her discon-
tent. He had no wish for a devotee-wife, who would compli-
cate social life with strained religious scruples. Therefore he
told her that she sang " the song of the Lord" just as truly in
Marguerite's jewel-song and the love-song of Carmen as in the
" Ave Marias " of the convent chapel ; and that the stage
seemed as "a strange land" to her only because a woman is
born for the land of love alone. He did not convince her,
but love feigns to believe the most flagrant sophisms; and
must not he be right, she asked herself he who was older
and wiser, and surely far better than she, now that he was a
real heretic no longer, but a prospective convert of her own
dear padre-confessor's?

Since the night of his reunion with Bianca, when by the
grace of God, granted, perhaps, through the intercession of the

176 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [May,

Refuge of Sinners, her hymn to the Virgin had wakened a
responsive chord in his soul, the godless man of the world had
been converted, indeed, into a sincere investigator of God's
revealed Truth ; but as yet, though he was convinced of the
truth, he had not- acknowledged it. In verity, his was less a
conversion than a matured and accepted enlightenment. From
his youth up his soul and intellect alike had forbidden him to
deny God's truth, so he had ignored it only, till God had forced
his recognition. Wealth wearied, pleasure mocked, indulgence
satiated, sin degraded and revolted his struggling soul. At
last he was left no choice but to face the need of his heart,
since it is the irresistible human instinct to search for happi-
ness. What did he lack? What did he crave? What was
his ideal of perfect happiness? Life? No, for it led to death,
against which he rebelled. Youth ? No, for youth's single
charm is the charm of spring, in whose brevity is bitterness ;
and manhood realizes that the thought of youth is shallow, the
standard of youth but selfish and mistaken, and the heart of
youth cold. Music ? No, not alone and only, since all his
past had been set to music ; and yet he was not content.
Love ? No, not as he had reckoned love in the past not even
such pure, holy, tender love as Bianca's love promised his
future. In her, indeed, such love lacked nothing ; but in him,
and therefore for him, even love still lacked all. What was
all ? Immortality !

It is the immortal instinct of life to defy eternal extinction ;
it is the divine instinct of humanity to demand eternal life.
" Life ! " claims the soul ; and its life is God ! " Life ! " cries
the heart ; and its life is love the divine, of which the human
is but a figure and shadow. " Life ! " cries the mind, and heaven
shrines fulfilment in the Beatific Vision.

Death is the doom of earth, the penalty of sin ; and every
human creature must face it ; but death is not the soul's ex-
tinction nay, only passage and change. Death for the flesh,
that is only dust to dust ! Death to the world, that is only
sin and vanity ! But life, eternal life, Immortality, for God's
image, man heir to heaven ! Such is the instinctive, unstilled
cry of every human heart, and Vandyke had been forced to
recognize it.

Vandyke's intellect even in his youth had rejected the claims
of any creed traceable to human origin. "The Apostolic Church
or none" had been an axiom of his after his first visit to
Italy. " For me, none" he had added, until [the day of Bianca.

THE SONG OF THE LORD. 177

Was it the reward of God for his charity to the orphan, of
the Madonna for his reverence for her daughter, or only the
natural ultimate result of thought and reading, and travel, and
reverent study of the arts, of which the Church of God is the
cradle and stronghold, the inspiration and fosterer, the defender
and preserver, that he no longer added his abjuration, but
kept to his axiom only ? The rest was a foregone conclusion,
His response to grace being granted. But although he no
longer rejected grace, his response was still slow and grudging.
Virtually he had been already a Catholic, since spiritually and
intellectually convinced that Catholicity was the true and only
Christianity, long before the night of his reunion with Bianca,
when his conviction had at last found spiritual voice ; yet
nearly a year had since elapsed, and he had not yet made
profession. He had talked with the priest, read theology and
moral philosophy, and studied the doctrines of the church ; he
even accompanied Bianca to Mass and Benediction. Yet their
wedding-day approached, and he was still but a convert at
heart, not a professed Catholic, His conditional baptism, the
sacrament of penance, his first Communion, had yet to be re-
ceived.

" For what is he waiting ? " Bianca demanded of her con-
fessor.

" Patience, my daughter," the priest enjoined her. " Pray
on, and * his soul shall be saved, yet so as by fire ! ' "

" By fire ? What do you mean, mio padre? " shuddered
Bianca. " Pray, padre, pray that no fire of sorrow be sent to
punish him. His spirit is willing. What if the flesh be weak?
The Bambino of the Madonna is good. He will have mercy ! "

" I spoke but figuratively, my child," answered the priest.
''The words came. Trust in God, my daughter, and go in
peace ! "

But when she had gone the priest pondered. Why, indeed,
had he spoken the words ? " Yet so as by fire, yet so as by fire ! "
Whence and why had they come to haunt him, the Lord's
anointed whose inspirations were from the Holy Ghost ?

IV.

: THE SONG OF DEATH.

" Saved, yet so as by fire " (/. Corinthians).

The night of Bianca's farewell appearance was come. Her
triumphal but brief career had opened in Milan ; it would
VOL. LXXI. 12

1 78 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [May,

close in New York. The engagements arranged before her
dtbut she had conscientiously fulfilled ; but she would make no
new ones, for her marriage was to take place in a month, when
her professional life would end for ever. She had no regrets,
for the stage was still as " a strange land " to her soul ; and
even her voice loved the songs of the Lord better than the
less grand and solemn operatic arias ; while her human heart
had no hope, no ambition, no dream, no ideal beyond her
pale signor's love. The musical world was in desolation at the
news of her retirement. In Milan, the maestro tore his hair
and draped her picture in mourning. The Italians raged, and
the Parisians hissed and sneered as they discussed her. Only
the Americans took the news calmly. " Love is fickle. Art is
constant. She will return to the stage, like others before her,"
they said. Nevertheless, they made her farewell appearance a
public ovation. The house was packed, the foyer banked with
flowers. From her first note to her last she was cheered to
the echo ; every aria encored and re-encored, every recitative
a signal for prolonged applause. When the opera was ended
at last, and she had responded to a dozen recalls before the
curtain, Vandyke was waiting in the wings to take her to his
mother's carriage.

" Your pilgrimage in a strange land is over, my Bianca," he
whispered as they went to it.

" Yes," she answered, "and now for the song of the Lord
the song that in love's land we must sing together."

Mrs. Courtland had never been reconciled to Vandyke's
engagement, but she yielded to the inevitable graciously, and
honored her son's future wife before the world. Her social
chaperonage was of inestimable value to Bianca, as it shielded
her from the faintest whisper of such gossip as usually follows
a public life ; and saved her from many innocent mistakes which
Society would have censured more severely than errors or guilt
that outrage only the moral laws, and shock no social conven-
tion. Mrs. Courtland made a martyr of herself to-night in
driving to Bianca's hotel to share the lovers' midnight supper ;
for her social ambition was elsewhere, and Bianca's society
wholly uncongenial ; but " Caesar's wife must be above re-
proach," since Caesar was Mrs. Courtland's son ! Darnelle made
the fourth of the party, changed by the years for the worse,
not for the better. Bianca did not like him, and always avoided
him ; but Mrs. Courtland still favored him, and claimed the
social privilege of choosing her escort, if not her hostess. A

1900.] THE SONG OF THE LORD. 179

Mr. Courtland existed, but he and his wife were never seen
together. They were a fashionable couple.

Bianca was too excited to eat, though for the prima donna
the day of opera is one of comparative fasting ; and as her com-
panions' palates were cloyed with the daily feasting of the rich
and unpenitential, the little supper was not of long duration.
Vandyke soon sought the piano, and ran his hands along the
keys. Mrs. Courtland toyed with a bonbon, and watched, with
a satirical smile of amusement, Danielle's endeavors to rival
Vandyke. In truth, Darnelle hated the girl for the virtual
reproof her maidenly dignity was to him ; but he admired her
beauty, and loved to shine in the reflected glory of fame; -so
he ignored her repulses, and pressed his attentions upon her
with an insolence born of his knowledge of her past.

" The signorina still carries a stiletto, in her heart of steel,"
he whispered to her, under cover of Vandyke's music. "Alas
that its wound is lor me only ! "

She met his eyes unflinchingly. For Vandyke's sake she
must stand her innocent ground.

" I rejoice that Mr. Darnelle remembers my heart of steel,"
she answered. " It is well that he can cast no stone at his
friend's wife ! "

"Beauty and genius like yours, signorina, men stone only
like this ! " he retorted, twirling a rose across the table.

" There can be no stones not even of rose-leaves," she
said resolutely, "where sin is not!"

" Sin is not a word to use in society," laughed Mrs. Court-
land, winging a woman's shaft as she made her adieux. " I
must take your vocabulary in hand, Bianca. It is antique ;
and above all other things my son's wife must be modern !
Death were better than a mesalliance, for Vandyke Courtland ! "

' Yes, be up-to-date, like me, signorina," laughed Darnelle.
"Coming, Van?"

" In a moment," answered Vandyke, as Bianca joined him
at the piano. The others strolled out, still laughing lightly.

"Your mother would rather that you were dead than married
to me. It is sad, caro," sighed Bianca, ruffling her fingers caress-
ingly through his hair.

" And I would rather die than not marry you ! Is that sad,
too, carina?" laughed Vandyke, mimicking her child-like pout.

" Caro, I have a favor to ask of you," she pleaded. " It is
that you will not keep friends with Mr. Darnelle. I do not
like him. He does you no good. Let him go."

i8o THE SONG OF THE LORD. [May,

" All the boys will be gone with my bachelor life," smiled
Vandyke. " A month from to-day, think of it, Bianca mar-
ried married married ! "

" But by the priest, before the altar, Catholic to Catholic,
yes? Is it not so?" she asked eagerly.

Vandyke hesitated. If even in that last hour he had sur-
rendered wholly, perchance the future had been different.
God's ways are strange. He waits with infinite patience, yet
takes things in his own hands, if he must, at last.

" Is it not so ? Say yes, caro mio, say yes ! " pleaded
Bianca.

" Perhaps yes, perhaps no ! Who knows ? " he evaded, with
a laughing shrug of his shoulders. " But whether Catholic to
Catholic, or Catholic to heretic, one month from to-day shall
see us husband and wife."

Then he went out hastily to overtake the others, forgetting
to add to his assured words the condition upon which humanity
must hinge all future contingencies : " Deo volente ! "

Bianca fell on her knees as he left her, clasping her hands
on the sill of the window, from which. she could see the shin-
ing stars of heaven.

" Catholic to Catholic, Dio mio t let it be ! " she prayed.
"Make him love thy house, Lord, and the place where thy
glory dwelleth. Save his soul even as the padre said, 'yet so
as by fire,' so that the salvation be his, and the fire of sorrow
mine alone. If there be no other way, let me make an ex-
change. Give me his soul, Catholic to Catholic let us be wed,
and my voice is thine for ever ! Take it from me if thou wilt !
Never will I shed one tear for it. Madonna mia, through thee
do I make my vow ! "

"I'll drop you boys at the club, if you like," offered Mrs.
Courtland, leaning back in her carriage.

" I am going straight on to my rooms, thank you, mother,"
rejected Vandyke.

" Then I think I would better see him safely there, thanks
just the same, Mrs. Courtland," laughed Darnelle.

" In other words, you prefer to smoke," smiled Mrs. Court-
land, as Vandyke slammed the door.

The men walked on in silence, their thoughts on the same
woman, though very different thoughts they were. Vandyke
was almost regretting that he had not made Bianca happy.
Why had he not said yes, and so ended the matter for ever?

THE SONG OF THE LORD. 181

Intellectually, he was convinced. Spiritually, he was not un-
willing. But the pride of the flesh dies hard, though he did
not realize it. His resolute act of will must settle the ques-
tion ; not, as his self-love suggested, his own resistless desire.
Darnelle was thinking only that Bianca had poor taste to
slight him for Vandyke. He was younger, as rich if not even
richer, of as high social position, and generally considered more
handsome and fascinating than his less assertive and pale-faced
friend. His vanity was hurt, and he did not enjoy the novel
experience. Therefore he protested with ill-natured impatience
when, as they turned by chance into a somewhat disreputable
side-street stretching its length between Bianca's hotel and the
vicinity of their bachelor apartments, Vandyke halted, challenged
by a sudden flash of flame from an opposite building, and the
terrified cry of a woman who leaned from its garret window, a
piteous figure above the mass of flames.

" Hang it ! It 's only a low theatre or dance-hall. We don't
want to be mixed up with such a mob," objected Darnelle,
even as a frenzied crowd already surrounded him, pouring in a
human stream from the hall's lower .exits and windows.

"Fire! Fire! Fire!" reiterated the woman. "Help! In
God's name, help ! "

The building which, as Darnelle had said, was a low-class
show-house, was a high frame structure, so varnished and be-
dizened inside and out that it ignited like tinder. The fire
had caught in one of the gallery ante-rooms situated just at
the foot of the only staircase leading to the garret dressing-
rooms, exit from which was therefore cut off for the unfortun-
ate dancer, dressing for her act at the time. When the alarm
was first sounded, a few of the house employees had attempted
to rush to the rescue ; but with almost incredible speed and
fury the flames had swept up the fatal funnel made by the
enclosed staircase, rendering ascent impossible from the first.
Spreading with lightning rapidity along the tinsel draperies of
the upper entry, they flashed through the transom of the
dressing-room door, and, obscured by the dense black smoke
soon blending with them, presented a lurid background against
which the figure of the imperilled dancer stood out in appal-
ling relief.

" Help ! Help ! Help ! " shuddered her despairing appeal
as, mounting the window-sill, she clung to the casement toward
which the flames already curled. The alarm had been given,
but the engines still tarried. Would no one bring a ladder?

1 82 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [May,

Was the woman to die a horrible death without even one
effort to rescue her ?

"Jump!" cried the crowd, but she only called on God the
louder. To jump was death, to go back was death. There
was no difference, no choice ! Death, death everywhere ; and
O God, by the sins on her soul she was afraid of death, even
more afraid than of the torturing fire !

"In God's Name, help!"

Why did it seem to Vandyke that the cry was to him
him only ? He knew her class, he knew her sins, he knew the
despair of her soul at the sudden and unprovided death before
her. Would no one save her, no one, from instant eternal
judgment ? Yes, he would, even as she had called him in
God's Name !

Some one had brought a long ladder and propped it against
the burning building. But it was a poor, broken, rickety thing
that the flames, now bursting from all the windows, already
lapped and encircled. A step or two up it, and one would-be
rescuer after another retreated with blackened face and singed
hair and burned fingers ; and of itself the ladder was of no
use, since it fell just short of the girl's unaided foothold.

Vandyke, fighting his way through the crowd, reached the
ladder just as the last volunteer relinquished it. Darnelle, who
had kept by his side, saw his mad intention, and vainly sought
to dissuade him from imperilling his life.

" In God's Name ! " he responded, instinctively making the
sign of the cross as he began the heroic ascent. The ladder
swayed and creaked and threatened to snap beneath his weight,
as the flames that were now bursting from the entire front of
the house charred its sides. There was a cry of warning from
the crowd, but he did not heed it. His thoughts were fixed
on the woman above him. Poor, sin-stained soul that must
face God's awful judgment ! He made an act of contrition for
his own sins, still unpurged by sacramental confession and ab-
solution ; realizing the folly of his obduracy as its fruits were
suddenly upon him, even as the wages of her sin were upon
the woman whom, God willing, he would save from eternal
death! He was just within reach of her when the engines
dashed around the corner, and in anofher moment a ladder
and fireman were level with him. Into the fireman's arms he
relinquished the girl's limp body. She had fainted as he low-
ered her from the sill.

As he began to descend a cry of horror from the street

1900.] THE SONG OF THE LORD. 183

crowd reached him. The firemen called to him to leap to their
ladder, but he did not heed them. Already his ladder had
snapped in twain, and he was sinking through fiery space, sinking,
sinking. A mortal faintness, an anguish of suspense, an unde-
fined horror were upon him. Then came a crash as of heaven
and earth together ; an awful agony as of a life-time's anguish
compressed into a single moment then an ice-cold darkness,
a merciful unconsciousness. Vandyke knew no more.

The prayers of a woman's love, as Longfellow says of the
thoughts of youth, are long, long prayers. Bianca was still
kneeling when the summons reached her. When she under-
stood, she dashed off a line to the priest who was Vandyke's
friend, and sent it by private messenger and carriage, with
orders for the carriage to remain at the priest's disposal ; then
ordered a second carriage for herself. But Vandyke's first re-
quest, as the ambulance surgeon revived him, had been for the
priest, and by the time Bianca reached the hospital, to which
in spite of Darnelle's protests the surgeon had insisted that
Vandyke be taken, the confessor had already been with him
for some time, and even at the last hour his peace had been
made with God.

Vandyke was in a private room ; his father and mother, as
well as the priest and Darnelle, were already with him. The
doctor had just left. He could be of no further use. As
Bianca entered Vandyke gave her a pathetic smile. He was
very white, but his face wore a peaceful expression. As she
sunk upon her knees by his bedside his hand groped weakly
until it rested upon her hair.

'"Catholic to Catholic' shall it be now, Bianca mia ? " he
whispered. " The priest has already baptized me. It is best
for you that you become my wife ! "

" Why not wait ? " she gasped, still hoping for the best, but
with a great dread at her heart.

A tear rolled down his face, yet his lips were smiling.

"There is no time for waiting, cara" he answered. "Hush,
beloved ; it is all for the best. I suffer nothing. The father
will tell you ! "

The priest advanced softly.

" Courage, my child," he whispered. " He speaks truly. It
will be better for you to marry him he thinks of your future
and there is no time to be lost. His injuries are internal,
and fatal. He cannot live an hour. Yet be brave, my

1 84 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [May,

daughter. It is thus that God has saved him, :< yet so as by
fire/ even as I told you. He has been baptized, has confessed,
and goes to our Lord with his First Communion still in his
heart. It is a blessed death the reward of his soul's good-
will and his deed of Christian heroism. The pain that was his
purgatory is over. He will never feel pain again. And before
him are the open gates of heaven ! "

" But for me who loved him," moaned Bianca " what is
left for me ? "

The face of the dying man was suddenly irradiated. He
drew her closer to him, whispering to her the inspiration of
the Lord of the Viaticum within him.

" The song of the Lord, Bianca mia" he whispered " the song
of the Lord ! "

With a wild sob Bianca heard him. At last she understood
the Divine will, but her woman-heart shuddered from the
crucial cost of its fulfilment. Her prayer of but one hour be-
fore was already answered, her petition granted. " Catholic to
Catholic " they would be married indeed, the soul of her beloved
was saved, "yet so as by fire"! The Lord had accepted her
vow, and vouchsafed her his message. But O God! O God! if
only he had taken her voice, and spared her beloved ! He was
holding her to the letter of her vow, not to its spirit. The
song of the Lord? Nay, she could sing no song with her
beloved in his grave, but only make her life-long moan of
woman-sorrow !

The door opened and a strange figure stole in, the cloak-
shrouded figure of a girl scarcely older than Bianca in years,
but with a sin-hardened face now softened, however, by emo-
tion. She darted to the bedside and sank sobbing and moan-
ing by Bianca's side, but not before Bianca had recognized
her.

" Caterina ! " she cried. " Caterina ! "

The priest raised her, and let her kiss the dying man's
hand. Vandyke smiled faintly.

" I am glad that it was Caterina," he panted. " She was
good to you, cara. Now marry us, my father, marry us !
Mother, give me a ring for my bride. It shall be your
wedding present."

Mrs. Courtland took a ring from her finger. It was a circlet
of pearls, a traditional family heir-loom. Vandyke flashed her
a glance as he took it that razed the citadel of her pride and
reserve, and moved her to the tears she had resisted. Then he

IQOO.] THE SONG OF THE LORD. 185

pressed the ring to his lips, and when the priest had blessed
it, put it on Bianca's finger. So, by the bed of death, Catho-
lic to Catholic, they were married. The Lord had done his
part.

At a word from the priest, all stood aside while Extreme
Unction was administered. Then one by one the last farewells
were made. The mother and the priest were the last to leave
the bedside. As the priest turned away he laid a crucifix on
Vandyke's breast. A chastened joy shone on the man's white
face as he and his bride at last were alone together.

" Kiss me, my wife," he whispered. " Bianca, sposa mia / "

The lips of the living and the dying met, and in that bridal
kiss, by love strong as death, their souls were wedded for ever.
When she lifted her face the death-change was already upon
him ; but the soul of the man rather than his pale lips spoke
to her.

" Sing to me, Bianca," he gasped. " Sing me the song of
the Lord ! "

The song of the Lord what was it? What should she
sing ? How could she sing anything while her love lay dying ?
, Of a sudden it flashed upon her the song of their meeting
the song he had called their love-song the song to the
Madonna, the Ave Maria ! Softly, sweetly, her voice uprose.
She would sing it through, though it broke her heart. Had
her dying love not asked it ?

Outside the room the mourners sobbed as they heard the
.song, and thought its pathos too cruel. But the priest smiled
through his tears. It was the song of the Lord ! He under-
stood.

So, too, smiled Vandyke ; and his smile brightened as he
listened. He pressed her hand to his lips in a lingering
caress ; then reverently kissed the crucifix. As he replaced it
on his breast his eyes, that at first had been fixed upon
Bianca, suddenly lifted, luminous with a light not of earth but
of dawning celestial vision. Then, even as she still sang, slow-
ly, peacefully their white lids closed, as his soul, without one
sigh, one struggle, winged its straight way to heaven. When
the song ended the world called him dead ; but the priest and
Bianca knew that such death was the birth of immortal life
and their sorrow was not as the sorrow of the others, who had
no hope !

1 86 THE SONG OF THE LORD. [May,

THE SONG OF THE LORD.

" And he put a new canticle into my mouth, a song to our God " (Psalms).

In the great metropolis of New York, the rich city, the
poor city, the fair city, the foul city, the city of joy and feast-
ing, the city of woe and famine, the city of martyr-priests and
uncanonized saints, as well as of open and secret sinners for-
gotten, indeed, by the Society which remembers only its slaves
and sycophants, but known to the Church and its anointed, to
the choirs and the congregations, to the poor and the people
there still lives a beautiful, dark-eyed, golden-haired, chastened-
faced widow, whose name for the world is Mrs. Vandyke
Courtland, but whom the poor and the sinful bless as " the
singing-saint ! " She has never returned to the stage, except to
sing for charity. She has never taken her social place, though
Mrs. Courtland and Darnelle do not cease to exhort her to
fulfil what they call her duty to the Courtland name. But
from church to church, from Mass to Benediction, from hospi-
tal to asylum, from prison to poor-house, from sick-room to
house of death and mourning, she flits like a tireless spirit,
singing, always singing the song of the Lord in a voice that
makes hardened men sob and sinful women pray, though sob
and prayer alike be strangers to them ! The grand old Masses,
the great oratorios, the solemn hymns, the psalms and songs
of the church, even the simple airs of the kingdom's little chil-
dren one and all of these she sings with equal fervor; loving
best, perhaps, the Mass and Benediction music of the churches,
because the Lord of her soul is there ; the " Miserere," " Dies
Irae," and " De Profundis " of the death-bed and requiem, in
memory of the love of her heart, whose death revealed her vo-
cation. But her own taste matters nothing ; wherever sin or
suffering or mourning are, there she goes gladly a daughter of
John, making clearer the way of the Lord. The worst slums
of the city she treads without fear ; yet behind her a faithful
protector always follows, the woman for whom Vandyke Court-
land died the penitent Caterina !

Only one song of the Lord's does the singer refuse to sing,
the song she has never sung since she sang it at her bride-
groom J3 death-bed, the Madonna's " Ave Maria." But the
Madonna is not slighted far from it ; there are legion songs
that please her as well, and by the aching heart in the singer's

1900.] GOUNOD'S " AVE MARIA" 187

breast the Mater Dolorosa knows that the singing saint is only
a woman ! Always Bianca sings the " Ave Maria " within her
soul ; always it sobs in her heart, but never again will it pass
her lips until she too shall be dying. Then, if she has the
strength; then, if she has the voice; then/if the prayer of her
widowhood be granted, and the grace of consciousness be left her
then again for the sweet, last time the earthly swan-song of
her love shall ring from her lips.

And who can doubt but that the woman-heart of the Ma-
donna will be touched to tender intercession that earth's broken
strain be taken up by the spirit-voice of him loved even unto
death to be the singing-saint's welcome home to heaven !

60iMOD'$ "jive nuntui."

"floe maria!" So sweet tbe siluer strain

Upon tbe rauisbed ear,
Gabriel meibinks, amid bi$b fieacen's train,
Stops suddenly to bear-
Rapt flngels listening
Cbe wbile on poised wing-
Jin eebo of bis own eelestial art
Outpoured in deatbless tbrobs of Gounod's bear i .

D. J. McMACKIN, PH.D.

1 88

A VISIT IN SOUTH-WESTERN FRANCE.

[May,

A VISIT IN SOUTH-WESTERN FRANCE.

HOUSE OF THE SIX-
TEENTH CENTURY.

BY ALICE A. CATLIN.

IN the south-west part of sunny France, in the
province of Deux-Sevres, there is a little earthly para-
dise, as far as climate is concerned, where one may
gather flowers from the garden every day in the
year, where blizzards do not prevail in winter and
neither mosquitoes nor tourists in summer, and where
one may have a glimpse of the real French home-life
and taste the true flavor of the soil.

Until within a few years, since the phylloxera
destroyed the grape-vines, this Cognac district was
one of the richest provinces in France, and even now
many of the peasant farmers are very wealthy. This
may be seen at one of the great May fairs in Niort,
which reminds one somewhat of a New England cat-
tle-show. On one side of the military parade-ground
are the horses, cattle, and mules to be sold, and on
the other the circus tents, merry-go-rounds, and other
catch-penny shows. Here the peasants in their blouses,
worn over suits of clothes that many rich Americans
would be willing to wear, exchange large rolls of one
hundred franc notes in trade.

Overlooking this business feature, on the hill-side
is the beautiful Jardin de la Breche, with its bronze
flower vases and statuary, among which is a dancing
fawn worthy of Praxiteles and as full of life and grace-
ful motion as McMonnies* Bacchante in our own
Museum of Art.

Here their young daughters promenade to see and
to be seen. As to their costumes, well, " Solomon in
all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." A
Fifth Avenue dress parade on Easter Sunday would
not compare with it, and velvets and brocades are
worn that would do credit to a Washington reception
or a diplomatic dinner, many of the dresses being
trimmed with flounces of beautiful Spanish lace.

All wear the coiffe, different styles representing dif-

A VISIT IN SOUTH-WESTERN FRANCE.

189

ferent villages, those of La Mothe, St. Heraye, and
Angiers being the most artistic of all, with steeple
crowns and long streamers of white brocade ribbon.
That of Bordeaux is simply a silk handkerchief
wound around the head, somewhat in Spanish gipsy
style, the ends streaming coquettishly behind the left
ear.

A narrow band of black on the coiffe represents
as deep mourning to them as the long crepe veil of
the bourgeoisie or the nobility, while a little wreath
of orange or other buds worn around the crown indi-
cates that the wearer is in the matrimonial market.
Extreme homeliness is no obstacle provided|there is a
good dot t without which one has not much
hope of marriage, while in blessed America a
man who loves and honors a girl is glad to
marry her without a penny, or even more than
the trousseau that common custom requires. I
asked when these girls could possibly wear
such beautiful costumes, and was told, at the /)
fairs, weddings, and family feasts ; and one
is not expected to last a life-time, but there
must be a new one each year.

At the weddings the dancing and fes-
tivities last from two or three days to a
week, and aside from a couple of barrels of
wine, one can imagine the quantity of
" baked meats," etc., it takes " to furnish
forth the marriage tables," and feed two
hundred and fifty to three hundred people three times
a day for a week. When it is all over the expenses
are shared by the parents of both bride and groom.

At a wedding in Brittany last June, when three
brothers and a sister of one family married three sis-
ters and a brother of another family, among the pro-
visions furnished for the marriage feast were two cows
and five hundred kilos over one thousand pounds
of bread. At a double wedding in Normandy ten
barrels of. cider were provided.

There is not much done in the way of wedding
cake and sweets, as a cooking stove would be too
near the twentieth century for them, so they depend
on the bakery for bread, and the fireplace and char-

NORTH DOOR OF NOTRE DAME.

190

A VISIT IN SOUTH-WESTERN FRANCE.

[May,

OLD

coal for the rest. In fact, the every-day fare of the
poorer classes throughout France consists principally
of the inevitable soup, bread, cheese, and wine.

The ordinary washing is done at the river-side,
and at the lessive, or grand semi-annual bleaching
with the lye of the wood-ashes. One gets some idea
of the wealth of household and personal linen owned,
when told that a dozen dozen of everything is not
an unusual number for each one to possess.

At the drawing up of the marriage contract, before
a notary, this supply of linen is included in the set-
tlement. I was told that one peasant family in Bois-
ragon had one hundred and five pairs of linen sheets ;
and a mother expects to give each daughter the
usual twelve dozen sets of table linen besides.

When the bride leaves her home a pistol-shot is
fired as a signal, and the wedding party, preceded by
music, walks through the village. The bride wears
orange-blossoms on her dress and on her coiffe, but
of course no veil with the coiffe. Sometimes the chil-
dren strew flowers before her, expecting a shower of
small coins in return, and bonfires are lighted along
the route to the mayor's office and the church.

We went one evening to see a couple who had
been married fifty years. They had been working in
the hay-field all day, and were going to celebrate their
golden wedding the next Sunday, when they could
have their children and grandchildren with them.
We took a large bunch of roses from the chateau
grounds, also a bottle of choice old Madeira to drink
their health with, and, to treat us in return, they
brought out a jar of cherries done in tro'is-six alcohol,
making what we should call an excellent cherry-bounce,
, then a bottle of liqueur made of green wal-
nuts, very good but like so much oil.

Nothing goes to the head or the heels
of a good American, but after the usual
glass of white wine with dinner, and that
mixture of drinks, it is quite possible to
have a little civil war in the stomach for
a few days.

Perhaps it is the good wine, or the better
TOWER ON THE WALL OF THE climate, but no one ever seems to get drunk.

FORTIFICATIONS.

1900.] A VISIT IN SOUTH-WESTERN FRANCE.

191

- - \

!> A !

THE DONJON, BUILT IN 1155.

One of the municipal ponds was recently cleaned out
for the first time in seven years, and some twenty-five
or thirty of the young men of the village made merry
over it, singing the " Marseillaise " and other songs,
and when it was finished marched as a wedding party
through the village. The maid, or rather man, of
honor held the bride's train so firmly with a rope that
it came off completely, leaving the bride, who smoked
on, as unabashed as Dr. Mary Walker at trousers re-
vealed. Perhaps with the idea of making possible
typhoid fever microbes drunk, they marched to a
wine-shop ; there they bought a barrique of wine,
which they finished before morning, making a mild
average of, say, nine quarts to a man. As an illus-
tration of the healthfulness of the place, I remarked
one day a woman up in a tree while a man held the
ladder, and was told that she was only eighty-odd
years old, while he was ninety.

While there seems to be nothing mean or stingy,
nothing goes to waste, a lesson perhaps to us on the
speedy payment of a war tax. All the houses and
other buildings are of stone, as wood is so scarce

A VISIT iff SOUTH-WESTERN FRANCE.

[May,

TOWER OF NOTRE
DAME.

and dear that, except the choice fruit and nut trees,
once in seven years the other trees and hedges are
cut to make the bundles of fagots for their tidy little
wood-pile. The poor trees in winter, with both leaves
and branches gone, look like distorted fists shaken
menacingly at this mutilation of nature.

The pruning and training of other trees to wires
on the walls has such a good effect on the fruit that
Mother Eve must have been in the French corner of
the Garden of Eden when she ate that unfortunate
apple. Had she been up to date, she might have
eaten good American sweet-corn off the cob, which
young France remarked had " a bone in it."

All the fruits and vegetables, combined with good
French cookery and American comforts and house-
keeping, make one feel that life is very enjoyable as
a guest in a chateau of a village where the poorest
live in abundance. Twice a year, in the artichaut
season, the best ones can be bought for three cents
each.

The crops are principally wheat and the beet-root,
for which the Mayor of Breloux carries on a large
distillery.

The soil of Boisragon is much richer than needed
for viticulture, and that near Bordeaux, between the
Gironde and the Atlantic, a sandy soil with a rocky
bottom, is much better adapted. To make the best
Bordeaux wines the grapes are pressed very lightly,
again for a second quality, then water may be added
to the pulp for another fermentation ; but there is
some legal restriction against placing this second
cuve'e on the market.

" Truth is stranger than fiction," and many years
ago a Boisragon of Boisragon, thinking his only son,
the last of his race, had died in foreign lands, be-
queathed his estate to his faithful concierge. Just at
present this same son, now Captain Boisragon of the
English army, is trying through the courts and records
of Niort to prove his right and title to the original
seigneurie.

The proverbial thrift and cleanliness of the ma-
terial side of life are well summarized in the little
cemetery of Breloux, where ^among the expressions

1 9 oo.]

A VISIT IN SOUTH-WESTERN FRANCE.

of rest and peace, and the joyful hope of the resur-
rection, there is on one stone this epitaph : " She
was an honest girl, and a good housekeeper."

The spiritual nature of the restless, energetic
American may be also felt among the Flemish graves
at Woluwe, St. Etienne, near Brussels, where on the
beautiful tomb of an Anglo-Saxon, named Russell,
surmounted by a cross, is this inscription in English :
" O Holy Cross, under thy shade I rest and hope."

In the clear summer twilight the sweet chime of
the Angelus from the church tower above reminds
one that

" Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing,
The voice of Jesus sounds o'er land and sea,
And laden souls, by thousands meekly bending,
Kind Shepherd, turn their weary steps to Thee.

Angels of Jesus, angels of light,

Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night."

The devotion of families to each other is different
from the bon camaraderie of Americans, but both are
charming and make a delightful combination ; as, for
instance, when young France of five and one-half
years came in from the English garden with torn
clothing which a strict father suggested could only
have been done by tree-climbing, replied with cool
American independence, " Yes, papa, thou art right ;
it was a branch."

Perhaps not quite so bad as Chinese foot mutilation
is the habit of tying the babies' legs together to make
them grow straight ; but poor little France has no
chance to kick.

Without ambition there would be no progress,
otherwise one might envy the contentment and cheer-
fulness of French peasant life ; also their politeness
even in the matter of bad French, although they do
sometimes say of foreigners, " They speak French like
a Spanish cow."

It is rather difficult to be quite sure of the two
genders, and one day, while I was waiting in the
carriage at the station, I asked a little girl who was
playing with a small toy horse if she would give it
to me. Her answer was, " She is a mare."
VOL. LXXI. 13

THE ORATORY.

194

A VISIT IN SOUTH-WESTERN FRANCE.

[May,

HOTEL CHABOT.

As a rule, the women speak a much worse patois
than the men, to whom the three years of enforced
military service is in itself an education, while the
women are doing their work at home in the fields
and driving the milk, bread, and butcher carts, per-
haps knitting at the same time, as the horses are not
in a Yankee hurry, neither the cows, which are shod
and yoked to do the work of cattle.

The coiffe marks the dignity of young woman-
hood, and up to that time, except a straw hat for
church, even in winter the girls go to school bare-
headed, carrying with their books a little foot-stool
with a few pieces of charcoal in it, as neither
churches nor school-houses are heated, the green
mould on the plaster of walls and stone floors indi-
cating the dampness and the chill. The dress is
simplicity itself : d plain skirt and waist with an
apron, often of the same stuff, with pockets large
enough for the knitting and for the miscellaneous
collection of an American small boy.

It is neither picturesque nor artistic except in
summer, when, instead of the waist, a corset, or
rather a laced bodice, is worn over the high-
necked and long-sleeved chemise, which, to be
very stylish, may be cut short to the elbow, with
a little finish of needlework ; and this is par ex-
cellence the country of fine embroidery.
The thick woollen stockings which are worn the
year round are knitted during the moments when the
busy hands are less actively employed, as in guard-
ing the flocks, cows, and geese. The hedges, which
are the only fences except stone walls, are not very
secure, and on this account, during the August and
September vacation of the municipal schools, a girl
of ten or twelve years of age is thought to earn
quite a fair sum if she has two dollars a month and
her food as shepherdess, cow, or goose girl, from dawn
till dark, except during mid-day, when the flocks are
enclosed in the stables for two or three hours.

Each has for her assistant a dog well trained to
take care of the flocks, and with the intelligence to
protect her as well from the beggars and gipsies who
roam through this fair country.

1900.]

A VISIT IN SOUTH-WESTERN FRANCE.

195

One needs to^keep many geese to supply six or
seven feather beds to each bedstead, and these with
the heavy surrounding curtains are quite sufficient to
protect the sleepers from the current of air of which
they have an insane dread.

The tall clocks are many of them really works of
art, with their beau-
tiful marqueterie and
other ornamentation,
and though having a
market price of only
eight or ten dollars
among themselves, de-
velop a sudden and
startling value, as a
beloved member of the
family, on the approach
of a possible tourist
buyer.

The copper and
brass cooking utensils
would make the heart
of an artist long to
possess them as pos-
sibilities of beautiful
still-life studies.

The heavy sabots
depicted in Millet's
" Angelus " are not
worn here, but much
lighter ones, leaving
the foot almost as un-
restricted as the Greek
sandal, and the men
find the shoes of mili-
tary service almost an instrument of torture till ac-
customed to their use.

They are very proud of the blouse, which is worn
even on such state occasions as the cuirassiers' din-
ner at Niort, as it marks their class and raises them
in the social scale above the trades-people and ser-
vants.

At St. Maixent is a very interesting old church

HOTEL DE VILLE. "THE PILORI," BUILT IN THE FOUR-
TEENTH CENTURY.

196

A VISIT IN SOUTH-WESTERN FRANCE.

[May,

and abbey, built in the eleventh century, combined
of Roman, Greek, and Gothic architecture, and it is the
principal monument of the place. There is also a mili-
tary school, where Marchand was educated, to whom
France has paid almost Dewey honors since his re-
turn from his African expedition. We celebrate vic-
tory, not defeat, thank God, Dewey and company !
At the beautiful Chateau du Petit Logis, on the hill
overlooking the St. Maixent Valley, lives a retired
captain who has seen much foreign service in Tonquin
and elsewhere, and whose vestibule, or main hall
running through the house, is like the studio of a
military painter, each weapon of the wall decoration
representing some battle in which he has taken part.
It is well to be near Bordeaux and its wines, as
the drinking water here has caused an epidemic of
typhoid fever, of which there were three hundred
cases at one time. At Poitiers also there are gener-
ally many cases of fever every summer.

The old military city of Niort was in the sixteenth
century a walled town, and one of the towers still
remains. The donjon of Niort was built by the
English during their occupation from 1154 to 1224,
and is attributed to Henri II., Plantagenet, and to
Richard, Cceur de Lion, 1155 to 1160. In one of the
towers Mme. de Maintenon was at one time a prisoner.
The other principal monument, the Pilori,
was built in the fourteenth century, and now,
rebuilt, is used as a museum of antiquities.
In one of the public squares, as a soldiers'
monument in bronze, is a very beautiful
angel of victory raising a wounded soldier.

There is also here the house where
Napoleon spent his last night in France be-
fore he sailed from La Rochelle for St.
Helena. Between here and the coast are
the salt marshes which he reclaimed from
't the ocean, and which are now gardens as,
^T; prolific as other French soil ; and one of the
- favorite excursions of the Niortaises is
.boating on the canals of the Marais. which
seem almost as romantic as the Vega Cana
of the City of Mexico.

CHURCH ST. ANDRE.

1900.] A VISIT IN SOUTH-WESTERN FRANCE.

Near that city, at the foot of the"|hill of
Guadalupe, where the treaty of Guadalupe
Hidalgo with the United States was signed,
is the church of San Pocito, or Holy Well,
built over a living spring of valuable medi-
cinal qualities, and said to have the power,
like the fabled lotos, of making those who
have once drank it always long to return.

Perhaps the wines, or the climate, or the
altogether of Deux-Sevres may have the same
quality.

To the butterfly tourist who flits through the
large cities and gives perhaps five minutes to an art
* gallery, and ten to a cathedral, and the rest of the
time to creations of fine raiment, this rural life might
seem like the homespun linsey-woolsey of our great-
grandmothers, but none the less durable and com-
fortable to those who gladly wore it.

The high sense of honor and justice with which
they endowed their daughters and sons will last even
longer, and do much to keep the United States of
America, as ever,

" The most blessed land the sun shines on."

197

M i
i

HOTEL D'ESTISSAC.

HOSPICE OF NIORT.

198 THREE GREAT BIOLOGISTS. [May,

THREE GREAT BIOLOGISTS.

THEODOR SCHWANN.
BY JAMES J. WALSH, M.D., Ph.D.

F the men who have made the Biology of the.
nineteenth century there are three whose names
stand out with special prominence. They are
noted not for their controversial writing on
mooted points, but for ground-breaking, original
work of the highest scientific import. Their discoveries will
preserve their memories for posterity long after the names of
many of those to whom the glare of controversial publicity
lent an ephemeral brightness for their own generation shall
have been forgotten. They are: Theodor Schwann, the anato-
mist, to whom modern biology owes its foundation in the
establishment of the cell theory ; Claude Bernard, the physiolo-
gist, to whom we are indebted for the great biological ideas
of nervous inhibition and internal glandular secretion ; finally
Louis Pasteur, the chemist bacteriologist, to whom is due the
refutation of the annihilatory abiologic doctrine of spontaneous
generation and the discoveries that have revolutionized modern
medicine, and promise to accomplish as great a revolution in
modern manufactures and industries.

It has often been said that the Catholic Church is opposed
to scientific advance. It has especially been insisted that in
what concerns biological science the church's attitude has been
distinctly discouraging. Recently the definite assertion has
been made that no original thinker in science could continue in
his profession of faith. Now, it so happens that all three of
these men were born in the bosom of the Catholic Church,
and were educated from their earliest years to maturity under
her watchful care. Schwann and Pasteur remained in the
midst of their great scientific triumphs, her faithful sons. For
years Bernard withdrew from all his old religious associations
and became indifferent as to the spiritual side of life, but
before'the end he came back to the knees of the Mother whose
fostering care meant so much to him in early life. It has
seemed, then, that a simple sketch of the lives of these three

1900.]

THREE GREAT BIOLOGISTS.

199

THEODOR SCHWANN.

greatest biologists of the century would be an important hu-
man document in regard to the attitude of the Church to bio-
logical science. It will, at least, serve to show that there is
nothing in doctrine or practice that interferes with the exer-
cise of the highest gifts for original scientific investigation.

Theodor Schwann, the enunciator of the cell theory i. e.,
of the teaching that all living tissues, whether plant or animal,
are composed of a number of minute elements that under all
circumstances are biologically equivalent is the father of mod-
ern biology. Cells had been seen and recognized as such be-
fore, but their significance was first pointed out by him. His
cell theory has now become the cell doctrine, the teaching of
all the schools of biology. The generalization that forms the
basis of the doctrine was the result of some of the most accu-
rate and careful observation that has ever been made. The
work was done when the mechanical helps to the analysis of

2oo THREE GREAT BIOLOGISTS.

tissues were in a most primitive condition. The microscope
had just been introduced into general laboratory work. The
microtome, the instrument by which tissues are cut into thin
sections suitable for microscopic examination, and to which
almost more than to the microscope itself we owe our detailed
knowledge of the intimate constitution of tissues, was as yet
unthought of. Despite these drawbacks Schwann's work was
done with a completeness that leaves very little to be desired.
He published, when not yet thirty, the story of his compara-
tive investigation of the cellular constitution of plants and
animals, and there is very little that can be added, even in
our day, to make its scientific demonstration any clearer than
it was. It was typical of the man that, heedless of disputa-
tious controversy over details of his work, he should go calmly
on to complete it, and then give it to the world in all its con-
vincing fulness. The same trait crops out with regard to other
subjects. His was one of the great scientific minds of the cen-
tury, always immersed in a philosophic calm befitting the im-
portant problems he had in hand. His life is ideal in its utter
devotion to science, and to the teaching of science, while no
duty that could round it out and make it humanly complete
for himself or others was despised or neglected.

Theodor Schwann was the fourth of a family of thirteen
children, born in the little German town of Reuss, not far
from Cologne. He received his college education in the Jesuit
Gymnasium of Cologne, and passed thence to the University
of Bonn. The lower Rhineland is largely Catholic, and to this
day, though Bonn has become the fashionably exclusive Ger-
man university to which the Kaiser and many of the scions of
the great German families go for their higher education, the
faculty of theology at the university remains Catholic. Schwann
devoted some time here to the study of theology, but he came
under the influence of Johann Miiller, was allowed to assist in
some of his experiments on the functions of the spinal nerves
of frogs, and this seems to have determined him to a medical
career.

After two years spent in medicine at Wiirzburg, another
great Catholic university of Southern Germany, we find Schwann
at the University of Berlin once more working with Johann
Miiller, who had been invited from Bonn to fill the distin-
guished. Rudolphi's place in the chair of anatomy at the rising
Prussian University. Miiller was one of those wonderful men
they turn up, unfortunately, all too rarely who, though not

IQOO.] THREE GREAT BIOLOGISTS. 201

great discoverers themselves, have the invaluable faculty of in-
spiring students with an enthusiasm for original observation
that leads to the most brilliantly successful researches. A
great teacher, in the proper sense of the word, he was not.
In his public lectures and his ordinary lessons he was apt to
be arid and uninteresting, insisting too much on unrelieved de-
tails, "the dry bones of science." He seems to have failed
almost completely in conveying the usual scientific information
of his course with the air of novelty that attracts the average
student. The true teaching faculties are not given to many.
Miiller had a precious quality all his own that has proved much
more valuable for science than the most enlightened peda-
gogy-

To the chosen few among his students who were drawn in-
to close intimacy with him and permitted to share his personal
scientific labors, Miiller proved a source of most precious in-
centive a suggestive master the inspiration of whose investi-
gating spirit was to be with them throughout life. To no one,
except perhaps to Socrates of yore, has it been given to have
sit at his feet as pupils so many men who were to leave their
marks upon the developing thought of a great era in human
progress. Besides Schwann, there studied with Miiller, during
these years at Berlin, Henle the anatomist, Briicke the physi-
ologist, Virchow the pathologist, Helmholtz the physicist, Du
Bois-Reymond the physiologist, Claparede, Reichert, Lachmann,
Troschel, Lieberkuhn, Remak. All of these names are writ
large in the scientific history of the century. It is a remarka-
ble group of men, and of them Schwann, with the possible ex-
ception of Helmholtz, will be remembered the best by pos-
terity ; certainly none of them would not have cheerfully re-
signed his hopes of scientific renown for any work of his own
to have made the discovery which, as an enthusiastic biogra-
pher said, set the crown of immortality on a young, unwrinkled
forehead.

Schwann's thesis for his doctorate at Berlin showed the
calibre of the man, and demonstrated his thorough fitness for
success as an experimental scientist. The question whether the
growing embryo in the ordinary hen's egg consumes oxygen or
not had been in dispute for some time. It was well known
that an air-chamber existed in the egg even at the earliest
stages of embryonic life. It was understood that the mature
chick just before its egress from the egg must have air, and the
porosity of the egg-shell was sufficient to permit its entrance.

2O2 THREE GREAT BIOLOGISTS. [May,

Whether at the beginning of embryonic life within the egg,
however, oxygen was necessary, remained somewhat in doubt.
It had been demonstrated that the gas existing in the air-
chamber of an egg became changed in composition during the
progress of development. From being slightly richer in oxygen
than ordinary atmospheric air at the beginning of embryonic
growth, containing 24 to 25 parts of oxygen per loo, it became
modified during comparatively early development so as to con-
tain not more than 17 parts of oxygen per 100 and some 7
parts of carbon dioxide. This change of composition was, at
least, very suggestive of the alteration that would take place
during respiration. It was pointed out, however, that the
argument founded on these observations was only drawn from
analogy, and was by no means a scientific demonstration of
the fact that the embryo not only consumed air during its
growth but actually needed oxygen for the continuance of its
vital processes.

It was suggested that the change of composition in the
air within the egg might be due not to any essential vital
functions but to .chance alterations brought on by decomposi-
tion in the unstable organic material so abundantly present in
the substance of the egg. Schwann settled the question de-
finitely by a set of ingenious experiments. He exposed eggs
for various periods to the action of other gases besides air,
and also placed them in the vacuum chamber of an air-pump.
When not in contact with the air the eggs developed for some
hours if the temperature was favorable, and then develop-
ment ceased. If after twenty-four hours' exposure to an
atmosphere of hydrogen eggs were then allowed free contact
with the air, development began once more at the point at
which it had ceased. After thirty hours of exposure to hydro-
gen, however, or to a vacuum, all life in the egg was destroyed
and it failed to develop, no matter how favorable the con-
ditions in which it was afterwards placed. The completeness
with which the points in dispute in this problem were demon-
strated is typical of all Schwann's work. His conclusions
always went farther than the solution of the problem he set
out to solve, and were always supported by simple but effec-
tive experiments, often ingeniously planned, always carried out
with a mechanical completeness that made them strikingly
demonstrative.

One of Schwann's brothers had been a worker in metal, and
Schwann himself had always shown a great interest in mechani-

1900.] THREE GREAT BIOLOGISTS. 203

cal appliances. This hobby stood him in good stead in those
days when laboratories did not contain all the intricate scientific
apparatus and the facilities for experimentation so common
now, with their workshop and skilled mechanics for the exe-
cution of designs. Many another worker in the biological
sciences of that time owes his reputation to a similar mechani-
cal skill. Experiments were impossible unless the investigator
had the mechanical ingenuity to plan and the personal handi-
ness to work out the details of appliances that might be
necessary for experiments. It is told of Schwann that when
Daguerre's discoveries in photography were announced, such
was his interest in the new invention that he made a trip to
Paris especially to learn the details of the method. Some
daguerreotypes made by him according to the original directions
of the inventor himself are still preserved by his family.

Schwann's investigation of the respiration of the embryo in
hen's eggs led to further studies of the embryo itself, and to
the discovery that it was made up of cells. Later came the
resolution of other tissues into cells. When, after his gradua-
tion as doctor in medicine, the post of assistant in anatomy at
Berlin fell vacant, it was offered by Johann Miiller to Schwann.
The position did not carry much emolument with it. The
salary was ten German thalers i. e., about $7.50 per month
a pittance even in those days when the purchasing power of
money was ever so much greater than now. His duties took
up most of his time. The work was congenial, however, and
Schwann remained here for five years. As Henle has said in
his biographical sketch of Schwann, in the Archiv fur Mikro-
skopische Anatomic t just after his death in 1882: "Those were
great days. The microscope had just been brought to such a
state of perfection that it was available for accurate scientific
observations. The mechanics of its manufacture had besides
just been simplified to such a degree that its cost was not
beyond the means of the enthusiastic student even of limited
means. Any day a bit of animal tissue, shaved off with a
scalpel or picked to pieces with a pair of needles or the finger
nails, might lead to important ground-breaking discoveries."
For at that time almost everything as to the intimate com-
position of tissues was unknown. Discoveries were lying
around loose, so to speak, waiting to be made. Schwann was
not idle. The precious years at Berlin saw the discovery that
many other tissues were composed of cells. The nuclei of the
striped and unstriped muscles were found, and while the

204 THREE GREAT BIOLOGISTS. [May,

cellular character of these tissues was not demonstrated, their
secret was more than suspected and hints provided for other
workers that led very shortly to Kolliker's and Henle's dis-
covery of muscle cells.

Besides his interest in histology, the branch* of anatomy
which treats of the intimate constitution of tissues, Schwann
was working also at certain general biological questions, and at
some knotty problems of physiology. Not long after his in-
stallation as an assistant at Berlin, from observations on fer-
menting and decomposing organic liquids, he came to a con-
clusion that was far in advance o'f the science of his day. He
announced definitely infusoria non oriuntur generatione czquivoca
the infusoria do not originate by spontaneous generation.
Under the term infusoria, at that time, were included all the
minute organisms, so that Schwann's announcement was a
definite rejection of the doctrine of spontaneous generation
over thirty years before Pasteur's demonstrations finally settled
the question. Schwann was never a controversialist. He took
no part in the sometimes bitter discussions that took place on
the subject, but having stated his views and the observations
that had led up to them he did not ask for the immediate
acceptance of his conclusions, but continued his work on other
subjects, confident that truth would prevail in the end. When
the congratulations poured in on Pasteur for having utterly
subverted the doctrine of spontaneous generation, the great
French scientist generously referred the pioneer work on this
subject to Schwann, and sent felicitations to that effect when
Schwann was celebrating the jubilee anniversary of his pro-
fessoriate.

While studying ferments and fermentations Schwann be-
came interested in certain functions of the human body that
carry with them many reminders of the biological processes
that are at work in producing the various alcohols and acids
of fermentation. The changes that occur in the contents of
the human stomach during the preparation of food for absorp-
tion had long been a subject of the greatest interest to physi-
ologists. It had been studied too much, however, from the
merely chemical side. The necessity for the presence of an
acid in the stomach contents in order that digestion should
go on led to the conclusion that the acid was the most im-
portant constituent of the gastric juice. By means of the
scrapings of the stomachs of various animals Schwann suc-
ceeded in preparing an artificial gastric juice, and showed just

1900.] THREE GREAT BIOLOGISTS. 205

how the action of the gastric secretions brought about the
solution of the contents of the stomach. He isolated pepsin,
and demonstrated that it resembled very closely in its action
the substances known as ferments. He even hinted that
digestion, instead of being a chemical was a biological process.
Any such explanation as this was scouted by the chemists of
the day, headed by Liebig. Most of the physiological func-
tions within the human being were then triumphantly claimed
as examples of the working of chemical laws.

Of the contradiction of his conclusions Schwann took prac-
tically no notice, but went faithfully on with his work. He
' could not be lured into controversy. For nearly five years
he continued his work at the University of Berlin, receiv-
ing only the pittance that has been mentioned, less than
ten dollars per month. Only the purest love of science for its
own sake and the satisfaction of his own enthusiastic spirit of
investigation kept him at work. There was but little prospect
of advancement at the University of Berlin itself. Schwann
was one of the lowest in rank of the assistants ; the professor
was only just beyond the prime of life, and before Schwann
on the list for promotion was at least one man, Henle, who
had already done distinguished work. Germany has had the
good fortune to have had all during the present century young
men who, unmindful of present emoluments, have been satis-
fied with the barest pittance for their support, provided the
positions they occupied gave them opportunities for original
work. Even at the present day young medical men are glad
to accept what they consider the honor of the position of
assistant to the professor and director of a clinic, and to re-
main in it for from five to ten years, sometimes even more,
though the salary attached to it is only from $250 to $400 per
year. They well know that if their original investigations into
various medical questions are successful, advance in university
rank is assured. Their promotion seldom comes from the in-
stitution where they have done their work, unless it should be
one of the smaller universities ; but the invitation to a chair
at a university will come sooner or later for meritorious work.
Schwann's invitation came from Louvain. His work on
cells had attracted a great deal of attention. In the midst of
the rationalism and infidelity then so common among scientific
men Schwann was known to have remained a sincere Catholic.
When the great Catholic university of Louvain, then, looked
around for a professor of anatomy, he seemed the most suita-

206 THREE GREAT BIOLOGISTS. [May,

ble person. Henle, who had very little sympathy for Schwann's
religious views, speaks most kindly of him as a man and a
comrade. Schwann seems to have endeared himself to the
" difficult " Prussians, as he did to those around him all his
life. For the dominant note in the sketches of him by those
who knew him personally is that of heartiest friendship joined
with enthusiastic admiration for his simple sincerity and un-
selfish devotion to his friends and to science.

A little incident that has been preserved for us by Henle
shows how much his young contemporaries appreciated even
at that early date, long before the full significance of the cell
theory could be realized, the aspect of Schwann's work which
was to make him immortal. At a little farewell dinner given
him by his co-workers in various laboratories of the University
of Berlin the feature of the occasion was a punning poem, by
the toast-master, on the words Louvain and cells. In Ger-
man Louvain is Lowen, which also means lion ; that is, it is
the dative case of the name of the lion. Reference is made
to the fact that as Samson found honeycomb (in German bee-
cells) in the lion, so now Louvain i. e., in German Lowen, the
lion finds a champion in the man of the cells. As Samson's
riddle was suggested by finding the bee-cells, so will the new
professor at Louvain solve the riddles of science by the demon-
stration of cells. The youthful jesting seer prophesied better
than he knew. Schwann's first completed work at Louvain was
the Microscopical Researches into the Accordance in Structure and
Growth of Plants and Animals* The theory it advanced was
to prove the most potent element thus far introduced into bio-
logical science to help in the solution of the difficult problems
that constantly occur in the study of the various forms of life.

At Louvain Schwann remained for about ten years. The
period is marked by a Continuance of his fruitful investigation
of cell-life, of the physiological biology of ferments and fer-
mentation, and of the allied subject of digestion in animals.
His researches in Berlin on this interesting and important sub-
ject, which was practically a complete mystery at that time,
had been mainly concerned with the gastric juice. He now
began the study of various secretions which aid intestinal di-
gestion. He proved that bile, which used to be considered an
excretion, was really an important digestive secretion. He
was not able to demonstrate as completely as he did for the

* Mikroskopische Untersuchung iiber die Ueber einstimmung in der Structur und dent
Wachsthum der Thiere und Pflanzen, 1839, p. 234.

i goo.] THREE GREAT BIOLOGISTS. 207

gastric juice the function of bile. The problem of intestinal
digestion is much more complicated than that of stomach di-
gestion, and involves a number of factors for which allowance
has to be made if the value of any one of them is to be
accurately determined. Even to our own day all of the physio-
logical problems in the functions of biliary secretion are not
solved. The greatest step was the demonstration that bile was
a something whose presence in the intestines was to be en-
couraged, not because, as Horace said, mental trouble was
imminent unless one were purged of black bile in the spring-
time, but because its presence insured the proper preparation
of food and neutralized in the intestinal tract certain poison-
ous substances that if absorbed would prove sources of irrita-
tion to all higher tissues.

His work on bile practically closes Schwann's career as an
investigator. The seven years between twenty and twenty-
seven are so full of discovery that there seemed to be
great promise for his maturer years. Had Schwann died at
thirty his biographies would have, surely contained lengthy
comments on the great discoveries that would undoubtedly
have rewarded his efforts in the prime of his powers. Schwann's
seeming inactivity has been a fruitful cause for conjecture.
The fact of the matter is, however, that original work of a
high order is accomplished mainly during the time when
activity of the imagination is at its height. There are very
few cases in which this acme of inventive effort has lasted
more than ten years.

Besides this there were certain more material factors that
hindered original work. Schwann was a German, yet had to
give his lectures at Louvain in French. For several years
most of his efforts were devoted to acquiring facility in the
language of his adopted country. Then Schwann was not
such a teacher as Muller, but the true pedagogue who took
seriously to heart the duty of teaching all his students. To
do this meant in the rapidly advancing science of that day
unceasing toil on the part of a conscientious professor. For it
was a time of great discoveries succeeding one another with
almost incredible rapidity. For ten years Schwann faithfully
devoted himself to his teaching duties in the anatomical course
at Louvain. He then accepted the chair of comparative anat-
omy and physiology at Liege, where he continued to lecture
for thirty years. As the result of his stay at Louvain there
has always been special attention given to biological studies at

2o8 THREE GREAT BIOLOGISTS. [May,

that university. At the present, time there is published there a
very well and favorably known biological journal, La Cellule,
through which many important contributions from the profes-
sors and students of the university find their way before the
public.

During his stay at Liege Schwann was formally invited, on
three different occasions, to return to his German Fatherland
to become professor at some of her great universities. Profes-
sorial chairs in anatomy or physiology at Wiirzburg, at Giessen,
and at Breslau were offered him between 1850 and 1860. He
refused them, however, to continue his work in Belgium. He
fou-nd his adopted countrymen eminently sympathetic. It
seems clear that he felt more at home in the midst of the
deeply religious feeling that pervaded the Belgian universities,
and which was in such marked contrast to the rationalistic
spirit so characteristic of the German universities at that time.
Schwann was penetrated with a lively spirit of the deepest re-
ligious feeling, which is noticeable all through his life. His
attitude in this matter deeply impressed his scientific contem-
poraries. His sense of duty in matters spiritual was only
equalled by his affectionate regard for his relatives. His vaca-
tions were invariably spent with his parents while they were
alive, and later with his brothers and sisters in the neighbor-
hood of Cologne. It was while making a Christmas visit to
them that he suffered the fatal stroke which carried him
away.

Towards the end of his career Schwann was invited to be
a member of a commission to investigate the case of Louise
Lateau. It will be remembered that the report of recurring
bleedings from stigmata in this case attracted a great deal of
attention, not only among Catholics, but among all classes
throughout the world. After careful observation Schwann re-
fused to concur in the report that the bleedings were mani-
festly miraculous. At first it was announced that he had de-
clared them evidently beyond the domain of natural causes,
and this report he took occasion to correct immediately. The
circumstance led to the publication of some harsh words in the
religious press, but with his usual moderation Schwann refused to
enter into any discussion, and so the affair ended. His thoroughly
conservative attitude in the matter, and his application of the
strictest scientific criteria to the case, prevented formal expres-
sion of approval on the part of those in authority. While such
an opinion would have carried only personal weight with it, it

1 900.] OFF SHORE. 209

might easily have been made a cause for unfortunate aspersions
upon the church.

The most marked feature of Schwann's career is the un-
failing 'friendships that linked him to those with whom he was
associated. At Louvain, and later at Liege, he was the per-
sonal friend of most of his students, while at Berlin he made
friendships with some of the great men in German medicine
that endured till the end of his life. When the celebration of
his fortieth anniversary came around, the hearty tributes from
all over Europe showed in what lofty reverence the kindly old
man was held who had sacrificed some of his chances for
greater scientific fame in order to be a teacher of others, and
a living exponent of the fact that the frame of mind which
leads to great scientific discovery and that which bows humbly
to religious truth, far from being hopelessly and essentially op-
posed to each other, may be peacefully united in the same per-
son, in their highest expression.

BY JAMES BUCKHAM.

OT yet the harbor ; for the clinging mist

Thickens the night and holds us fast outside,
While the faint lanterns swim in amethyst,
And the dark cable strains against the tide.

Yet through the darkness, muffled by the fog,
Come to our anxious ears sweet sounds of land :

The teamster's shout, the barking of a dog,
The curfew pealing o'er the wastes of sand.

Peace courage ! Soon the darkness will be past,
And with the morn the fog will melt away.

Safe to the haven we shall come at last,

And with our dear ones keep love's holy-day.

O heaven-home ! from which the night of time
With clouds and tears a little while restrains

The eager soul we hear thy joy-bells chime !
A night off shore and then the shining plains !

VOJ-. LXXI. 14

210 THE DELIVERANCE OF FT IT FILS. [May,

THE DELIVERANCE OF P'TIT FILS.

BY J. GERTRUDE MENARD.
I.

'HE little village clings close to the great, shelv-
ing bank of the St. Lawrence like a bird's nest
to the limb of a mighty tree. Below it the
deep, voiceful current of the majestic waterway
sweeps on in resistless splendor to the distant
ocean ; above it a wilderness of lofty hills roll solemnly away
toward the blue Laurentians ; but midway between this com-
pelling grandeur of earth and sea the tiny hamlet sleeps
quietly on, serene and inattentive.

There are, perhaps, a score or so of the sturdy, pointed-
roofed cottages clustered cosily about the single church whose
walls of plastered rock and neatly-tinned roof and spire gleam
with beacon-like intensity against the darker hues of the land-
scape. Behind each house, running in carefully-outlined ob-
longs up the slope of the hills, are the fertile farms of the
community, and here all summer long great stretches of rye
and barley flash and glisten in the sun, patches of buckwheat
pile their white drifts against bars and fences, and strips of
flax, blue as the river below, add their daintier tints to the
lavish coloring of the scene. Here, also, looking strange and
diminutive in their vast acreage, roam flocks of sheep and
herds of cattle, and in the farther distance, turned loose for
the season's pasturing, frolic the young horses of the year's
breeding.

The village contains but one street, and the cottage of
Mme. Sophie Larode stands at the very end of it. You are
sure of this because the two creaking planks which form the
sidewalk of that sparsely travelled thoroughfare terminate so
abruptly at her modest estate that in order to continue your
journey you are obliged to leap precipitously down the brambly
bank and follow the uncertain curves ;o/f the cart-ruts for fur-
ther guidance into the country beyond.

The house is a tiny one, consisting only of two rooms and
a garret set somewhat unevenly against a huge, white-washed
chimney; but the door-yard is ample, and here, in sociable

1900.] THE DELIVERANCE OF P'TIT FILS. 211

nearness to the highway, may be found some of the more cum-
bersome of the housekeeping adjuncts. The water-barrel with
its bulging sides leans handily beside the doorstep ; the churn
is set close under the broad eaves ; in the shade of the big
poplar stand the ancient brick oven and the bread-trough, and
here also may be found the cheese-press, a deal table, and a
broad wooden bench capable of serving a variety of pur-
poses.

On a certain warm morning in the month of May Sophie
Larode stood before her oven sliding huge loaves of bread in-
to its cavernous mouth with the blackened bread-shovel. All
around her the world lay bright and fragrant from the rain.
The river, swelled to full flood by the recent freeing of its ice-
sealed tributaries, flashed and sparkled in a dazzling vista of
azure wave and fleecy foam ; the young grass, curled yet and
of a dazzling freshness, sent up sweet and subtle odors from
the moist earth ; the trees, but newly clothed in their little
leaves, seemed like screens of misty green set quiveringly
against the sun. From stretches of waste land far down the
stream she could hear the confused chatter of many birds
bobolinks, finches, robins with now and then the scream of a
kingfisher or the dull cry of a bittern disturbed in its reedy
seclusion. The insistent clamor came to her jubilantly, and
yet pervaded by certain notes of mockery, as if the ecstatic
voicings were but the vaunts of recluses conscious of an iso-
lation secure from human trespassing. But presently, as she
worked and listened, she became conscious of a rush of wings,
a flash of shadow, and immediately, from somewhere above her
head, a bluebird began singing.

Sophie paused in her task and looked up. She scanned
the big tree eagerly, but at first her eyes could make
out nothing but the dazzling sheen of many little silver leaves
and a confusing network of brown stems and branches reach-
ing stiffly upward toward the sun. After a moment, however,
midway, as it seemed, between sky and earth, she caught the
glint of a speck of blue a tiny speck that flashed, and flut-
tered, and flirted, and disappeared among the soft leaves, only
to reappear a second later in still greater vividness of . color.
A pleased smile lighted her face. She closed the oven door
noiselessly, and turned toward the house. She was a comely
young woman with soft brown hair and large, childish brown
eyes. She had been married at sixteen and was now twenty-
eight; and had been a widow five years.

212 THE DELIVERANCE OF PTIT FJLS. [May,

" P'tit Fils," she called softly ; " P'tit Fils, here is your
bluebird back again. Come out and hear him."

There was the sound of a slight movement inside the house,
and presently the door opened and a boy of about ten years
appeared in the doorway. He had a thin, sensitive face framed
in a mass of flaxen hair that was parted in the middle of his
forehead, and fell in loose curls to his shoulders after the man-
ner of a girl. His eyes were large and of a peculiar dull hazel
in color. In his hand he carried a little willow rod, peeled in
a fantastic design, and upon his shoulder, poised with the
security of long habit, sat a beautiful gray squirrel. The child
stood a moment on the threshold, listening attentively ; then
he stepped down and moved slowly toward the poplar, laying
the little rod lightly to right and left of him as he walked.
When he had reached the bench, he climbed gravely upon it,,
and placing his cane between his knees as an aged man sets
his staff, he folded his hands across its top and turned his
face upward into the sunlight.

" Maman, is the bluebird on the broken bough where the
three little branches grow down instead of up?"

u No, P'tit, he 's way, way up on the top of the tree on a
little bit of a twig that swings back and forth, back and forth
as he sings. There listen to that, now ! "

A wonderful crescendo of uncontrollable rapture, a flood of
rippling melody so sweet, so wild, so jubilant that the very
heart of the spring seemed bursting in the swelling notes,
floated out on the morning silence. The atom of blue swelled
and shook with the strength of it; the little twig bowed and
swayed as if stirred by a rushing wind ; even the gnarled old
tree trunk itself seemed to thrill and stir with a wave of re-
sponsive fervor.

The child laughed happily, and seated himself more com-
fortably upon the bench.

" How do you know, maman," he said, when the ecstasy
above his head had subsided ; " how do you know that he is
the same bird that was here last year ? "

The mother looked gravely at the atom of embodied voice
perched saucily so far beyond the criticism of her gaze.

" Oh, I know him well enough," she said, with a wise air.
" He 's the same old fellow, without a doubt. I 'd know him
anywhere."

" But how do you know him ? "

Sophie wrinkled her brows, and thought a moment. " I

.IQOO.] THE DELIVERANCE OF PTIT FILS. 213

know him because well, because one of his wings is longer
than the other."

"You didn't tell me that last year," suspiciously.

"Didn't I? Well, I was afraid you wouldn't like him so
well."

" But how can you see the difference in his wings, if he is
on the top of the tree. You said the tree was twice as tall as
our house."

"Yes, dearie, so it is; but any one would see the differ-
ence in that bird's wings. It 's as plain as day. Why even
Old Man Lamoureux with his one eye could see it, if he were
here."

The boy seemed satisfied. He sat silent for awhile, smil-
ing contentedly as the little trills and murmurs of delight, in-
terspersed with intervals of palpitating silence, continued to
stir the dreamy air. The widow picked up her shovel and slid
the remaining loaf into the oven. Then she came over and
seated herself beside the boy.

" Maman," he began again ; " is the bluebird going to build
a nest in the poplar this year ? "

"Of course. Isn't that what he 's singing about?"

" I don't know. And is the old nest up there yet ? "

"Why no, P'tit. Don't you remember it was blown away
in the winter? This year he is going to build let me see;
I 'm sure he 's going to build lower down. There 's a fine snug
corner just above my head here all little gray leaves and soft
twisted stems. That 's the place for him, I know."

"And if he builds there, will you lift me up and let me
feel him ? "

"Yes, dearie; or at any rate, if the old fellow isn't there
himself, you can feel the little round eggs that the mother
bird will put in the nest, and later on the young birds them-
selves ; and that will be just as good. Ah ! there he goes now,
the rascal! away off over Monsieur Sauve's tobacco patch, and
up to the top of the hills, and out of sight altogether."

The boy frowned and made a movement of disappointment
and the squirrel, which had been sitting in attentive silence all
this time, feeling that the entertainment was over, leaped nim-
bly into the poplar and began running frantic races up and
down its sturdy bole.

For awhile neither of the pair spoke, but at length, find-
ing that no further diversion was forthcoming, the boy said
coaxingly: "Tell me about the hill."

214 THE DELIVERANCE OF P'TIT FILS. [May,

The mother turned her gaze obediently upon the rolling
upland that lay beyond her own meagre acres, and noted with
a careful eye the details of its diverse sections. She was not
herself a lover of Nature, or a critic of its forms and colorings,
but long training under the exacting tutelage of P'tit Fils had
enabled her to discern the fine points in her circumscribed
landscape as few of deeper erudition might have done. She
spoke now with the enthusiasm of the connoisseur.

" O P'tit ! the hill is a fine sight to-day all great strips of
glossy greens and mellow browns, like a splendid bed-quilt
hung out to air. The oats and the rye have just begun to
come up, you know, and the tiny blades are so soft and shiny
that the fields look as if they were covered with silk. As for
the ploughed land, that is velvet, dark and soft and rich, and
still except for the crows, and I am sure there are as many as
a hundred of them feeding in the furrows. But enfant, if you
could see the plum-trees ! I can't tell you what they are like.
The snow-drifts in front of the door last winter are all I can
think of. The fences up and down the hill are half covered up
by them, and when the wind blows whir-r, there 's a bend-
ing and twisting of the old limbs, and off the white petals go
in a shower down the air."

Sophie ventured to pause a moment after this tax upon
her descriptive powers, but her listener was far from being
satisfied with this sudden termination of the discourse.

" What else ? " he asked eagerly, as if the tale were one
of thrilling interest, the climax of which had not yet been
reached.

" What else ? Well, the woods down toward the river are
worth looking at. The young birches at the water's edge are
such a bright yellow they dazzle my eyes ; behind them are
the maples, as red as a flame ; and farther back, in the very
heart of the woods, are the pines, big and black and solemn
enough to frighten you. The wild-cherry trees are almost bare
yet, except for the silver caterpillar nests ; but there are plenty
of shad-bushes in blossom, and they are almost as white as
the plum-trees. I can't see them from here, of course, but I
know that down among the roots there's a host of yellow
violets, and perhaps the wood-lilies have come too, and are
standing up straight and white and slim through the dead
leaves.!'

Again the mother ceased speaking and brought her eyes
back from the shining reaches they had been scanning to the

i goo.] THE DELIVERANCE OF P* TIT FILS. 215

face of the boy beside her. He was smiling now, the dreamy,
introspective smile that always rewarded her whenever her hum-
ble word-pictures caught his fancy. The wind, blowing freshly
from the river, was lifting his fair hair and tossing it lightly
about his face, the sun had warmed two little red spots in his
pale cheeks, and the leaves quivering incessantly above his
head cast down tremulous flecks of shadow that played over
his person with tender picturesqueness. Sophie regarded him
fondly. Never, she thought, had he looked so beautiful not
with the sturdy beauty of the other children of the village, but
with a strange, remote loveliness that reminded her of the
angels painted over the altar in the church. She sat perfectly
still, not daring to move or speak, for fear of disturbing the
train of his absorbed thought ; but suddenly, as she watched
him, a frown gathered on his brow, and he turned toward her
with a movement of sharp questioning. Fearing that her lapse
in narrative had given offence, she plunged once more int
description, choosing her subject at random.

" P'tit, there are the oddest clouds in the sky to-day; tiny
round specks high, high up, and all drifting together in a long,
curling wave that " but the boy interrupted her impatiently.

" Who is that coming up the sidewalk ? " he asked sharply.

Sophie had not heard the footsteps, but she turned now
and looked toward the highway. A man was approaching,
though still at some distance from the house. The sight seemed
strangely to confuse her. She dropped her eyes guiltily, and
a deep blush overspread her fresh face. She did not speak.

The child at her side listened intently a moment ; then he
rose and turned a stern, accusing face upon his mother.

" I know who it is," he said bitterly. " It is Monsieur Le
Roi ; and I know what he is coming for, too."

The mother's embarrassment increased ; her head sank upon
her bosom ; she seemed unable to raise her eyes to the pitiless
countenance confronting her. But at last she broke forth woe-
fully :

" O P'tit Fils ! it is not my fault that he is coming. I do
not want him. But what can I do ? I am not able to run
the place any longer, and we must live. Besides, I am think-
ing of you. It is for your sake that I take him."

The boy stamped his foot wrathfully.

" It is not for my sake," he cried shrilly. " I hate him ! You
know I hate him. I would rather starve than live with him. I
shall tell him so."

216 THE DELIVERANCE OF PTIT FILS. [May,

Sophie looked apprehensively toward the street and raised
her hand in alarmed entreaty.

" Hush, hush, P'tit ! " she whispered ; " don't let him hear you
say that. We must hot make him angry, you know. Speak to
him now, and be polite just for once."

" Will you send him away if I am polite ? "

" O P'tit ! I can't send him away any more. I have sent
him away three times just to please you but there is the
mortgage. If I send him away again he will foreclose it, and
then we shall have to go upon the parish."

But P'tit Fils paid no attention to this hopeless statement
of facts. He resumed his seat upon the bench, setting his back
squarely to the road.

" I will not speak to him," he said in a choking voice. " I
will not speak to him as long as I live ! "

There was no time for further appeal. Casting a last
agonized look upon her son, Mme. Larode rose and walked
palpitatingly to meet the newcomer, trying vainly to screen
with her slim person the small, inexorable figure upon the
bench.

Monsieur Le Roi, for it was he, advanced leisurely. He
was a tall, spare man with a smoothly-shaven face, thin lips,
and small, keen eyes. His age was apparently about twice
that of his hostess, and he bore himself with a certain self-
confidence which bespoke him a person of some importance in
the community. His sharp glance rested for a moment upon
Sophie's perturbed countenance, and then travelled inquiringly
beyond it to where P'tit Fils, in reckless defiance of his
mother's wishes, still offered the inhospitality of a rigid spine
and shoulder. At the sight of these unmistakable signs of hos-
tility an unpleasant expression settled upon the visitor's face,
and it was evident to Sophie's apprehensive gaze that he was
recalling those three other occasions, dating respectively from
the second, third, and fourth years of her widowhood, when,
after certain inevitable business transactions, he had offered to
relieve her of all anxiety regarding the future by becoming a
husband to herself and a father to P'tit Fils, only to be routed
in discomfiture by the violent refusal of that young person to
adopt an additional parent. Some secret consideration of a
nature calculated to restore his equanimity seemed, however,
to present itself to the mind of the elderly suitor to-day, for
almost immediately he smiled affably, and, taking off his hat,
bowed with great politeness to his discomfited hostess.

1900.] THE DELIVERANCE OF P'TIT FILS. 217

"Good morning, Mme. Larode ; this is fine weather we're
having, is it not ? I think it promises some good grain this
year, and that is what we want, sure enough. You have not
planted your little farm, I see ; but it is early yet, of course,
and for that matter you get so little from the land that it
seems to me the crop is not worth the cost of the ploughing.
However, let us go into the house and talk over your affairs. I
believe it will be necessary for us to come to a settlement
at last, eh, madame ? "

She murmured an inarticulate assent, and moved slowly
toward the cottage. Her color still came and went distressing-
ly, and as she passed the bench under the poplar she paused
and pointed with a gesture of despairing appeal to her son.

Monsieur Le Roi, however, deigned no other response than
a stare of cold impassiveness, and with a sigh she hurried on
and entered the house.

P'tit Fils, meanwhile, continued to sit as they had left him.
Pale, rigid, stricken, he seemed like a little pitiful statue set
incongruously in the midst of the smiling summer warmth and
sunshine. The gray squirrel, finding him so strangely silent,
leaped down from the tree, and frisked with insolent familiar-
ity over his person ; two young turkeys, flying over a neighbor-
ing fence, strutted up and pecked at him curiously ; a ground
spider, attracted by his shiny staff, attached the end of his
silver thread thereto, and set about spinning a lowly web ;
companies of bees brushed perilously against his cheek ; blue-
bottle flies buzzed and whirred in his ears ; and numerous small
insects of earth and air after the manner of their kind came
and made free with him at their will ; but he neither moved
nor spoke. Only a great sob rising silently now and then in
his throat, or a tear welling bitterly into his dim eyes, told the
intensity of his suppressed emotion.

But the conference within the house was not a long one.
In less than half an hour the door opened and the pair reap-
peared. Mme. Larode's face wore a somewhat more relieved
expression, while the countenance of Monsieur Le Roi was
wreathed in satisfied smiles. He did not ignore the boy this
time. As he led the way to the poplar he nodded reassuring-
ly to his companion, and putting his hand into his pocket he
drew forth a silver coin, which he displayed jocularly. Then
he went up to P'tit Fils, and patted him upon the head in a
fatherly manner.

" Come, come, P'tit Fils, it is time that we began to be

2i8 THE DELIVERANCE OF PTIT FILS. [May,

better friends. This mother of yours is going to give up the

farm here and come over to my place to live ; and as for

you, a father won't be a bad thing to try for a change, eh,

Sophie trembled and blushed deprecatingly, but the boy
maintained his icy and unmoved silence.

" Here, little one, here is something to buy a treat with
the next time you go to the magazin. Monsieur Dion has
some fine red and white sugar-sticks, and it 's no harm to have
a sweet tooth. I had one myself when I was your age."

He forced the coin playfully into the boy's closed hand ; but
the instant P'tit Fils felt the touch of the metal he raised his
arm and with a fierce gesture sent the money whirling through
the air.

Monsieur Le Roi stepped back quickly, and a dark flush
spread itself over his face.

" Sacre, madame," he said bitingly, fixing an angry eye on
the widow, "this boy of yours has fine manners, that 's a fact."

Tears of apprehension rushed to the mother's eyes.
' "Oh, Monsieur Le Roi!" she cried, "do not mind him.
He is spoiled, I know ; but what would you have ? A poor
little blind boy!"

The visitor opened his lips sharply to reply. He seemed in no
sort of doubt as to the qualities which he found most lamentably
wanting in the character of his prospective step-son. A second
glance at the irate little face before him seemed to deter him
from the recital of them, however, for after frowning alter-
nately upon Mme. Larode and her son, he turned abruptly
away.

" We will see to the boy later," he said curtly ; and with a
brief adieu strode out of the yard.

P'tit Fils, however, had by this time reached the limit of
his self-restraint. Scarcely had the footsteps ceased to echo
upon the planks when he uttered a shriek, and casting himself
face downward on the ground burst into a tempest of hysteri-
cal sobs. He twined his fingers in the grass and tore up
handfuls of the slim blades; he dug his toes convulsively into
the moist earth or beat frantic tattoos with them in the air ;
his long hair fluttered wildly about his head ; his whole frame
shook and quivered with the violence of his paroxysm.

Sophie sank weakly upon the bench and raised her hands
despairingly to heaven.

" O bonne Ste. Anne f " she wailed ; " was there ever such

1900.] THE DELIVERANCE OF PTIT FILS. 219

a child ! No reason, no comprehension, no pity for a poor
mother who is trying to do the best she can for her little
blind boy."

The weeping continued with unabated frenzy.

" Who has been doing a man's work for five long years
planting, hoeing, reaping, and getting hardly enough, in the
end, to live upon."

More sobs.

"And who because she happens to have a friend willing to
take the mortgage from the farm, and be good to her and the
boy besides, has to suffer all this."

A muffled voice from the grass : " He will not be good to
me. He '11 beat me. Magloire Sauve* says he will."

" Magloire Sauve is a bad boy. He shall get a beating him-
self for telling lies to frighten you. Monsieur Le Roi has
been more than generous, and I, oh I am not so foolish as
you think ! Everything is to be arranged on paper at the
notaires. This place is to be mine just as if there were no
mortgage upon it ; and there is to be something set away for
you besides, in case I should die. So you see I can make a
good bargain after all."

The display of her unguessed talents in the financial field
aroused no enthusiasm in P'tit Fils. He continued to sob,
with less violence now, but with a methodical regularity that
seemed to promise an indefinite continuance of the mournful
performance.

The mother raised the corner of her apron and wiped a
tear or two from her own eyes. Then she stooped, and lifting
the weeping boy upon her knees, began to rock him slowly
back and forth, as she had done when he was a tiny baby,
and before she had known that he was blind.

" P'tit, there 's something else. Stop crying now and listen.
Monsieur Le Roi says there is a place in Quebec where little
blind boys and girls go to school and learn to read and write.
And Monsieur Le Roi says that if you are good, he will send
you there. Think how fine that would be ! "

P'tit Fils lifted a tear-stained, sceptical face.

"How can a boy learn to read," he said scornfully, "when
he cannot see the book?"

Sophie looked doubtful. "Well, P'tit, I don't know myself,
exactly; but there is a way. Monsieur Le Roi knows. He
has been to the school himself more than once."

" Monsieur Le Roi is a cheat. He said that to catch you."

220 THE DELIVERANCE OF PTIT FILS. [May,

" No, no, child ; it is the truth. I myself* have heard of such
places ; but you need not go if you don't want to. I will not
let any one send you."

P'tit Fils suddenly straightened himself and slipped from
his mother's lap. He stood before her with a sudden tragic
calmness upon. him.

" I will not go to Monsieur Le Roi's school," he said,
pointing his finger at her solemnly, and speaking with the
manner of one uttering a prophecy; "I will not go to Mon-
sieur Le Roi's school, nor to his house either. Something will
save me. Something will ! "

II.

The evening preceding the Tuesday chosen by Sophie
Larode for the celebration of her marriage lingered late and
lovely in the fair spring sky, presaging auspicious weather for
that important event.

Bastien Le Roi noted this fact with satisfaction as, seated
comfortably upon his little galerie, his well-filled pipe in his
mouth, his chair tilted at a comfortable angle against the rail-
ing, he indulged himself for the last time in the lonely twi-
light meditation that had become one of the habits of his pro-
tracted bachelorhood.

The day had been a busy one. In the morning, accompa-
nied by Mme. Larode, he had visited the office of the notaire,
where, with all the formality of the law, he had cancelled his
claims upon her property. In addition to this he had deeded
to P'tit Fils a certain modest sum of money, at present ac-
cumulating interest in a bank at Quebec, thereby rendering
him also a person of private means. This latter act had been
in a manner compulsory, for although he had expressed to the
mother his entire willingness to provide for her son in the
event of her death, that usually complaisant lady had suddenly
displayed a firmness, not to say stubbornness, of manner that
had astonished him, and had declared with finality that unless
the provision were duly recorded then and there, her own part
in their contemplated contract must again remain unfulfilled.
It was this threat that had caused him to accede to her re-
quest.

Th.e afternoon he had devoted to numerous errands in the
village and to a call upon Mile. Frechette, the tailoress, from
whom he had received his new suit of wedding black. The

i goo.] THE DELIVERANCE OF P'TIT FILS. 221

time remaining between daylight and dusk he had spent in
arranging the furnishings of his comfortable dwelling with
somewhat more precision, the elderly neighbor whom he em-
ployed to attend to his domestic needs being accustomed to
leave much to be desired in matters of this nature.

When, at last, he had taken up his favorite position on the
pleasant galerie, which lined the river side of the house, and
settled himself comfortably for a review of the crowded events
of the day, it was with the complacency of one conscious of
having expended time and money to their utmost advantage.
He had an affection for Sophie. Why else, he asked himself,
had he waited so long for her, while others, equally young and
attractive, stood ready at his call? Why yielded up so many
of his carefully hoarded dollars, when he was to receive no
dot in return ? Why borne with the insufferable insolence and
rebellion of P'tit Fils ? There was but one answer.-

Mme. Larode, without doubt, was weak in discipline, as the
condition of her son could testify, and a poor manager of
things financial, as her burdened lands proclaimed ; but she
was, above all, docile and sweet-tempered, and he felt that he
could readily mould her to his will when once she was beneath
his roof. As to P'tit Fils but his mind was not so much at
ease regarding the boy. No truce as yet existed between
them. War, stern and unyielding, was evidently the purpose
of the small tyrant ; but a way existed by which that unpleas-
antness also might be avoided there was always the school.
If the child proved too troublesome he should be sent away
for awhile, to cool his hot temper and mend his manners a
little.

It was after a reverie of an hour or more, and with the
fate of his step-son thus satisfactorily disposed of, that Mon-
sieur Le Roi shook the ashes from his pipe, leisurely entered
the house, and after closing a door or two, retired to rest.

The night was still and warm. As he lay in bed he could
see through the open window a few pale stars gleaming gently
in the scarcely darkened sky, and hear far below him the soft
swish of the river, as it stirred and swelled with the evening
tide. So near, indeed, was the steep bank that the loose peb-
bles rolling at intervals down the smooth incline sent a plain-
tive tinkling through the room, and the thin mist rising in little
flecks to the upper air, filled his nostrils with an odor of cool-
ing freshness. For a long time he remained happily wakeful,
abandoning himself to the sweet, mysterious influences that

222 THE DELIVERANCE OF P'TIT FILS. [May,

surrounded him ; then as the gray sky darkened to black, and
the music of the river lapsed into a more monotonous rhythm,
he fell peacefully asleep.

How long he had slept he did not know. He awoke sud-
denly to find himself sitting up in bed, intensely alert, and
with a strange, unreasoning fear tugging wildly at his heart.
He listened intently and peered sharply about him, in order
to gain some explanation of his unaccountable alarm ; but
there was neither sight nor sound to disturb the usual order
of things. The dull light, pierced faintly by a few yellow
streaks, premonitive of dawn, revealed the familiar chamber
exactly as he had seen it on the previous evening ; the little
curtain at the window flapped with a gentle insistence, as it
had done on many preceding mornings ; the early robins, far
away on the hills, were beginning their usual shrill pipings.
Nothing was changed, nothing apparently had happened, and
yet he was not reassured. He sat motionless, breathless, dread-
ing he knew not what, and yet certain in every fibre of his
being that some unspeakable horror was close upon him. For
a minute or two he waited thus, and then slowly, threaten-
ingly, the bed beneath him began to rock and shake, the win-
dows rattled in the casements, the doors swayed open upon
their hinges, and a strange, deep thrill, a shuddering tremor
that set the great beams above his head straining and groan-
ing like human beings in pain, passed lingeringly through the
sturdy house, leaving it limp and tottering around him.

With a cry he sprang out upon the floor and began throw-
ing on his clothes, moving toward the door as he did so. As
he passed out of the room, however, and made for the stairs,
the floor seemed to recede from his feet. His steps went wide
and vague, and at last he was obliged to slide along by the
wall in order to keep himself in an upright position. Reeling
and staggering like a drunken man, he at length gained the
staircase, and half sliding, half falling, made the descent to the
hall below. He found the door swinging open, and stumbling
out to the porch beyond he stared wildly at earth and sky
in another desperate attempt to gain some clew to the dread-
ful, silent commotion in which he moved. But horror of
horrors ! Was he really awake ? or was he still in the spell
of some hideous nightmare ? The house, which for fifty years
had looked upon the broad expanse of the St. Lawrence, now
faced the green slope of the hills! He rubbed his eyes and

IQOO.] THE DELIVERANCE OF P TIT FILS. 223

dealt himself mighty blows to rouse himself from his trance,
but his senses refused to adjust themselves to other than this
one appalling fact. The house, it was clear, had become com-
pletely turned on its foundations.

He could not stop, however, to marvel at this new condi-
tion of things. A frenzy of terror seized him. Dashing down
the steps of the porch he started to run up the slope toward
the hills ; but the faster he ran the farther he seemed to be
slipping from those vast, serene heights which, touched now
with the first effulgence of the dawn, looked down on him so
dispassionately, so remotely. He shrieked wildly, calling the
names of his nearest neighbors, and it seemed to him that his
cries were taken up by other voices, terrified, like his own ;
but no help came. Again he tried to tear himself up the
treacherous incline, but he could no longer keep his footing.
He stumbled and fell, and as he did so he dug his fingers into
the soft earth and clutched at it as a drowning man clutches
a plank ; with the action, however, a deadly chill seemed to
strike at his heart. His lips opened dryly. Sainte Vierge !
what was this? The sod was moving too. It, he, the house,
the whole world, in fact, was sliding down, down toward an
abyss the depth of which he knew only too surely.

He struggled no longer. A calm numbing, deadly, terri-
ble settled gradually upon him, robbing him of fear and fill,
ing him with even a vague wonder at the strangeness of the
calamity which had befallen him. Once he raised his head
and looked toward the opposite end of the village. " Mme.
Larode, P'tit Fils ! " he called brokenly. Then he dropped his
face in the grass again and waited. The sliding motion still
continued and presently he heard a crash close behind him
which told him that the house had fallen in. Almost at the
same moment something cold touched his feet ; it crept up to
his knees his waist his shoulders. He knew what it was.
He knew that it was the river, taking him and his little domain
into its unending embrace.

Almost the last to arrive at the scene of the catastrophe
were Sophie Larode and her son. The crowd of villagers who
had gathered, weeping and gesticulating, at the great gaping
wound in the devastated river bank, made way respectfully as
the frightened pair, clinging fast to each other, advanced and
stood in the midst of them. The widow fixed her wide, un-
comprehending gaze dumbly upon the ruin before her. The

224 THE DELIVERANCE OF P'TIT FILS. [May,

enormity of the event surpassed the powers of her poor mind,
and left her dazed and silent. Here only yesterday had stood
the commodious dwelling and neat outhouses of her prospective
home ; here had lain green pastures and well-kept gardens
mellowing for her hand; here but she could not complete the
train of overwhelming recollection. It was enough to realize
that in place of these fair possessions of which she was to
become mistress in a few short hours there lay before her but
a bare sweep of sand and broken sod mixed with the debris
of the demolished buildings, and below the everlasting river
flowing calmly as before. P'tit Fils, tugging violently at her
hand, received no answer to his importunate questioning, and
it was one of the onlookers who, taking compassion on him,
explained brokenly that the St. Lawrence, swollen by the spring
freshets, had altered its course during the early morning hours,
and in so doing had swept three houses with all their inmates
into its current, Monsieur Le Roi and his unfortunately
situated dwelling being evidently the first to go.

Long and mournfully the little concourse lingered staring
vacantly at the unanswering stream ; but duty, even at such a
supreme hour, called imperatively to most of those present,
and finally, in doleful twos and threes, the melancholy com-
pany dispersed, Sophie and P'tit Fils going last of all, as they
had come. No word was spoken between them. The mother
with her apron at her eyes wept silently, the boy walked
quietly, his face pale and filled with conflicting expressions.
As they neared their own humble abode, however, a light of
surprise and satisfaction broke suddenly over his countenance,
and he began speaking in a voice of scarcely suppressed ela-
tion.

" Maman," he whispered, and there was a break of tremu-
lous entreaty now in the words " Maman, there will never be
another ? "

Sophie laid her hand upon his head. She understood his
meaning.

" No, P'tit, there will never be another, and this one was
only for your sake ; but oh, P'tit, poor Monsieur Le Roi ! "

igoo.] Is PROFIT-SHARING JUSTIFIABLE ? 225

IS PROFIT-SHARING JUSTIFIABLE ?

BY LEOPOLD KATSCHER.

" Profit-sharing is a profoundly conservative movement." N. P. Oilman.

"Profit-sharing is logically the next step in the evolution of labor." Washington
Gladden.

" The social question fills the air, and profit-sharing is the only anti-revolutionary ele-
ment in it." George Jacob Holyoake.

'LTHOUGH the practical experience of hundreds
of profit-sharing firms has converted me from a
former sceptic to a thorough-going advocate of
the system, I am nevertheless far from believing
that it contains the long-sought " solution of the
social question." Only a solution which would secure employ-
ment to all men and guarantee to all the employed the full
product of their activity, could be regarded as the solution
of the social question. But as we seem to be separated by
a long space of time from so complete a solution, is there any
reason meanwhile for rejecting palliatives? On the contrary,
we must welcome many palliatives, because they help to ac-
celerate the slow process of development which is leading up
to the freedom of social and economical relations, and form
steps of transition which may gradually conduct us to the
much longed-for ideal state of things.

Such a transitional step, and one of great ethical impor-
tance, is the sharing of profit. Of all the methods which have
hitherto been tried for obtaining a fairer division of the pro-
duce of labor, it is the best better than premiums, better than
payment by piece-work, better than productive associations
for it keeps clear of the errors and dangers of these methods
for insuring a more just partition, without excluding their ad-
vantages. It may be regarded as the safest preliminary school
of an ideal association ; and in addition to this, it has numer-
ous bright aspects in developing more fully the working ca-
pacity of the enterprises, raising the material and ethical
position of the workmen, and alleviating the struggle between
capital and labor by a better understanding on both sides.

All that has hitherto been done to bring about amicable
social conditions with or without the intervention of the
VOL. LXXI. 15

226 Is PROFIT-SHARING JUSTIFIABLE ? [May

state has been only palliative. " And yet what a wonderful
improvement has been brought about ! A general introduction
of the system of division of profits, patiently and practically
taken in hand, would be attended with blissful results.

It cannot be denied that the modern " wage-system " offers
great practical advantages, according to the existing arrange-
ment of things, in the direction of convenience. But its dis-
advantages are very much greater, and it must undergo modi-
fication if ever we are to arrive at a friendly understanding
between employers and employed. The only too well-founded
discontent and the legitimate strivings of the operatives de-
mand imperatively that the inevitable changes should practi-
cally recognize the growth of the principle of equality in the
world of labor, as it is already partially acknowledged in
the world of politics by the introduction of universal suffrage.
Considering the powerful influence which the working class
in many lands exercise upon legislation by means of their
votes, it may be expected that the opposition to the wage-
system will assume more and more aggressive forms, if capi-
talists delay too long to reform the system in the way best
calculated to get rid of its defects and its inequalities.

The faults of the " pure " wage-system may thus be elimi-
nated without the sacrifice of its most important features.
Payment by time makes no distinction between the diligent
and the idle, between skilled and unskilled workmen ; in the
latter it fosters carelessness, in the former discontent. "The
greater part of the work executed," writes Mr. Batterson, a
large American employer of labor, with regard to payment by
time, " does not answer to the amount which a good workman
can easily perform, but to what a careless man chooses to do
without any effort." The remedy for this unsatisfactory state
of things would be payment for piece-work where it can be
carried out. But, in the first place, this cannot be done every-
where ; in the second, payment by the piece may easily lead
to hasty, superficial production of quantity rather than quality ;
thirdly and chiefly, it leads workmen to overstrain their
strength. Notwithstanding its partial advantages, therefore, it
can only be successfully carried out where the object is to
produce a large quantity rather than good quality, and then it
will best forward production when it is coupled with premiums
on quantity.

1900.] 75 PROFIT-SHARING JUSTIFIABLE ? 227

No doubt, even with regard to quality, the payment for
piece-work may answer with suitable premiums ; but experience
shows that this spur does not act so powerfully as that which
is brought to bear on quantity. The premiums on sales, so
frequent in business, have nothing to do with production,
which may, however, be often influenced favorably by rewards
for economy of material, not with regard to the quantity or
the goodness of the article, but with a view to cheapening
production, especially by saving in machinery and implements;
but this method is not applicable in all trades ; besides, this
eagerness for economizing may easily lead those eager for re-
wards too far, and tend to the injury of the firm rather than
to its advantage. Another modification of the fixed wage-
system the sliding scales has much to recommend it in prin-
ciple ; but it presents so many difficulties in practice that it
can only be applied on rare occasions and for a short time,
so that it cannot be regarded as a help to rely on. And as to
" gratifications," which very many firms bestow in good years,
they are neither sure nor regular, but depend on the will and
pleasure of the firm ; they are thus a very inadequate means
for counteracting the injustices of the wage-system.

All the supplementary provisions and modifications of the
wage-system, though attended with undeniable advantages, are
yet insufficient to do away with the incessant friction between
employers and employed, or to alleviate in any perceptible
degree the ever-growing strife on the question of wages, which
brings heavy losses to both parties. If such an end is ever to
be attained, it must be by grafting upon the wage-system a
greater capacity for accommodation to the fluctuations of the
value of labor, as well as by awakening in the operatives a
stronger interest in the success of their employers. This must
be done either by gathering the workmen into co-operative
productive societies, or by introducing the sharing of profits,
or, again, by admitting the hands into an industrial partner-
ship in the concern in which they are engaged. The best
system would seem to be the combination of division of profits
with sharing of capital.

The charge most frequently made against the " hands "
and this naturally includes all the other objections is that
they take little or no interest in their work. Their employers,
irritated by this indifference, forget to reckon with human
nature and to consider that the existing wage-system, far from
presenting the necessary incitement to interest, is by no means

228 Is PROFIT-SHARING JUSTIFIABLE ? [May,

calculated to stir the men up to the exertion of their best
powers or to the development of their full capacity for pro-
duction. The common feature of all the alterations which have
been hitherto attempted is to hold out the promise of a
fluctuating extra payment which is intended to supplement
their regular wages. If the man is a handicraftsman, this extra
payment depends on the quantity or the good quality of his
productions, or upon his economizing his working materials.
If he is entrusted with selling the handiwork of others, his
extra pay will depend on his ability as a salesman. If he is
not in a position to influence demand or sale, it is acknowl-
edged in the principle of the sliding scale that a share in the
profits of his employer reasonably falls to him.

The principle admitted in the sliding scale of wages is
therefore that of division of profits ; only the calculation is
not based upon the actual profit obtained, but depends on local
circumstances such as the net price of coals, for instance.
The right to a share in the profits is not expressly acknowl-
edged, but practically in the use of the sliding scale the
participation of the workmen in the gains of their employer
does take place up to a certain point. As regards premiums
and payment for piece-work, they may be designated in the
following words, which the employer may be supposed to ad-
dress to his staff : ,

" If you exert yourselves as heartily as if you were working
for yourselves, or as I would exert myself in your place with
my present interest in the prosperity of my business you
shall have at least such a share of the profits as usually falls
to a man working on his own account. Improve the quality of
your productions, and you shall receive premiums over and
above your wages. Go carefully to work with the raw and
wrought materials, implements, and machines entrusted to you,
and I will pay you accordingly. I will give the salesmen among
you a percentage on their sales in addition to their salary.
Whoever among you shall increase the amount of his produc-
tions, shall be paid exactly in proportion to his work, not
according to a general average."

As a matter of fact, premiums and payments by the piece
are also an approach to a sort of industrial partnership, for
they foster the feeling to which the worker by time is general-
ly a stranger the feeling of partnership.

Whereas payment by time fails to spur on the workman to
diligence and carefulness, or to infuse any sympathy with the

IQOO.] Is PROFIT-SHARING JUSTIFIABLE ? 229

success of his master, the effect of the alterations in the wage-
system which we are considering has been to apply the power-
ful spring of personal interest to the conduct of. business.
The usual result has been that the profits of the firm increase,
while the relations between it and the staff are placed on a
more friendly footing. But the defects which still cling to
these admirable alterations (piece-work, premiums, commission,
sliding scale) urge on the question whether these are not still
capable of improvement, and whether a plan might not be
adopted which would possess these advantages in a much
higher degree, and thus be calculated to bring about a yet
closer intercommunity, a still better understanding between the
two parties ? Is it not possible to knit yet more closely than
can be done by premiums, etc., the bond between employers
and employed, and make it a real partnership ? The answer is :
Certainly, it is possible; there is such a plan: namely, profit-
sharing.

The justification of this reform in the wage-system was
recognized by Turgot as early as 1775. The next theoretical
start was given orally by H. A. Fregier in 1835 ; but in his
work Les classes dangereuses de la population dans les grandes
villes, published in 1840, he expresses himself decidedly against
the practicability of his own theory. As regards practice,
we learn from one of the latest and best contributions to
the literature of participation (N. P. Oilman's Profit- Sharing*')
that Albert Gallatin, Secretary to the United States Treasury,
introduced the sharing of profits in his glass-factories con-
structed in 1794 ; but the experiment does not seem to have
led to any very special result, so that I am compelled, with all
other writers on the subject, to indicate the celebrated Parisian
decorator and wall-painter Leclaire as the first well-known
sponsor of the new system. In the year 1842 he seized hold
of Fregter's first suggestions, proved the futility of his later
objections by practice in the most triumphant manner, and
opened the way for all later attempts on the same ground,
hitherto some 500 in number. Of these, about 400 are at this
moment still in activity, while about 100 have come to an un-
timely end. There are 140 instances in France, in England
about 100, in Germany 35, in Switzerland 15, in the United
States of North America about 50 existing cases. The re-
mainder are distributed over Holland, Belgium, Austria-Hungary,
Italy, Spain, Russia, Portugal, and Norway.

* Profit-Sharing between Employer and Employee. Boston, Mass., fourth edition, 1892.

230 Is PROFIT-SHARING JUSTIFIABLE ? [May,

II.

I read somewhere the following remark of Theodore
Hertzka's:

" We lay to heart the fact that improvement of the material
position is not the way to fight down Socialism. Any one who
believes that men once awakened to independent thinking will
become reconciled to the injustice of the present order of
things because an additional crumb from the table of the ex-
ploiters falls to his share, must be blind. ... It is well
known that the working class everywhere urges on the socialis-
tic propaganda all the more vigorously the more prosperous
its circumstances are, for the very simple reason that every
amelioration in the material condition gives room for freer
thinking.'*

However true all this may be, it does not exclude the util-
ity of profit-sharing. I myself am far from thinking it desira-
ble that palliatives should have the effect of keeping back the
striving towards ideal solutions ; at the same time I see no
reason why they should not alleviate the struggle between
capital and labor, and as they cannot make all workmen happy,
they may at least place many of them in a much better posi-
tion for the time being. In most cases of profit-sharing the
" improvement of the material position " has actually proved
itself a means of active resistance to violent agitation. Strikes,
boycottings, and such like, almost invariably aim at bringing
about an improvement in the material position and the treat-
ment of workingmen. Well, then, if a larger income and good
usage can be obtained by peaceful methods, without striking
work, without mutual irritation, without losses on both sides
and this will almost always be the case in participation of
profits, rightly managed then I cannot but approve of it if, in
spite of the general accuracy of the above quotation, the work-
men in question prefer this mode of adjustment to the dis-
turbances of warfare. I think it quite natural and comprehen-
sible that in very many firms founded on the sharing of profits
the staff should resist the pressure of trades-unions, giving as
their reason "we live in the best understanding with our
chiefs," or, " we are very well treated.*

Therefore, English, French, and American trades-unions in
general are not opposed to this reform, but rather favorably
disposed towards it. It is only the German social democracy
which rejects the new system in toto, forgetting in its other-

1900.] Is PROFIT-SHARING JUSTIFIABLE ? 231

wise justifiable zeal for more radical measures that stages of
transition are necessary and useful, and that profit-sharing is
the best forerunner of an ideal solution, the firmest step on the
road to a sound adjustment of things. Equally to blame are
the still numerous capitalists who maintain an absolutely hostile
position, for the sharing of profits offers scarcely less advantage
to the employer than to the employed. In the absence of
anything better, it can only be theoretic prejudice, wanting in
practical knowledge of the facts, which assumes an antagonis-
tic attitude towards participation.

There are, however, very many theoreticians of all tenden-
cies radical, liberal, conservative who have spoken out
strongly in favor of the cause, while very few practicians have
done the contrary. Even many of those firms which have
given up the attempt after awhile for one reason or another
have expressed themselves in favor of the system. And it is a
fact that all academical objections and threatenings of danger
in connection with the division of profits have proved to be
utterly irrelevant or unfounded. Nothing stands in the way of
a more general adoption of the system ; all that is wanted is
the insight and conviction that the thing is possible, and that
the profits of the concern are almost invariably increased by
the good will of the staff, if a proportionate share in the addi-
tional gain is allotted to them. "Once employers come to see,"
as Bohmert sagaciously remarks, " that they suffer no loss, but
rather are gainers by sharing the profits with their staff, the
system of participation will make further strides year by year."

It is true that there are still a vast number of employers
who believe this to be a mere work of philanthropy, and
shrink from the supposed sacrifices. But this is a fundamental
error. The idea of profit-sharing rests to a great extent upon
the expectation that the staff will do their best to bring in the
share which belongs to them by increase of zeal, carefulness,
etc., therefore by larger, cheaper, and better production.

We will show by a few examples, chosen out of hundreds
of analogous cases, how fully this expectation is realized.
Leclaire founded his plan on the calculation that each of his
hands would give him of his own good will the value of an
hour's work daily (then 60, later on 90, centimes), and, besides,
might save 25 centimes in the raw material ; he therefore ran
no risk when he shared the profits of the concern with his men
in order to call forth their good will. He expressly attributed
the fact of his having become a millionaire to his action in

232 Is PROFIT-SHARING JUSTIFIABLE f [May.

thus sharing. Laroche-Joubert, the head of the great paper-
making establishments at Angouleme, after forty years' experi-
ence of a system of participation on an immense scale, said :
" Let not the chief imagine that he is bestowing a gratuity on
his staff ; on the contrary, he is striking a good bargain." The
Parisian printer, Gaste, wrote to Bohmert : " The very large
share of the profits which I hand over to my work-people does
not cost me a sou quite the contrary ! " The calico manu-
facturer, Besselievre, at Maromme, reported, after six years'
experience: "The eighty thousand francs which we have
hitherto distributed in shares cost us nothing, as they are over
and above the normal profits in our branch." The great
Geneva firm, Billon & Isaac, which manufacture the component
parts of music-boxes, stated as follows : " The very large
dividend which fell to the workmen cost us nothing, for we have
made very much larger profits than usual in consequence of
the introduction of profit-sharing." Messrs. H. Briggs, Son &
Co., the proprietors of the Whitwood collieries, who have be-
come celebrated by their system of participation, hardly made
five per cent, on their capital before its introduction ; but since,
their average profit was fifteen per cent. The eminent Parisian
optician, Baille-Lemaire, says : " Don 't talk to me of philan-
thropy ! Why speak of good will, when it is a simple question
of self-interest?"

These few examples will suffice. The employers may allow
themselves to be guided also by the motive of friendliness
towards their work-people, and no doubt this is really the case
with many of them ; but a far more powerful incentive in such
matters is the interest of the business, or, as Hertzka puts it,
"Self-interest"; and it is better for the staff to see this point
clearly, for then they will be far more ready to enter into the
reform than if it is put before them as a gratuity or a sacrifice.
Their self-respect does not suffer, and their moral level is not
lowered, when they know that they themselves create the surplus
profit, and therefore honestly earn their share in it by in-
creased and better-guided activity.

THE GRAN SASSO, MONTE MORRONE, AND OTHERS FORMING AN UNBROKEN CHAIN."

IN SIGHT OF THE GRAN SASSO.

BY E. C. VANSITTART.

HE months of- a Roman autumn and winter speed
quickly by ; imperceptibly winter is merged
into spring, and almost before we are aware of
it May is at the door. Contented enough with
town-life during the short days and long even-
ings filled with varied work till now, when a great wave of
color and perfume seems to have swept over the land, the
skies take a deeper tint of blue, the sunsets have become
pageants of crimson and gold, the fountains flash more silvery
in the vivid sunlight, the swallows have returned and soar
above the house-tops in wide circles accompanied by shrill
cries ; the great heaped-up baskets of flowers in the Piazza.
send out whiffs of sweetness ; lilac, wallflowers, roses, and
scarlet poppies suggest visions of green fields, leafy gardens,
and budding hedge-rows. In a word, the witchery of the
Italian spring is upon us ; a strange, restless longing to leave
the imprisoning city walls behind and to get out into the free,
open country, be it only for a few days, falls upon most, and

234

IN SIGHT OF THE GRAN SASSO.

[May.

the question resounds on all sides : " Where shall we go for a
spring outing?" For our own part, the neighborhood of the
Eternal City is well trodden ; Umbria also is familiar ground ;
every year we grow more ambitious, and in our search for
" pastures new" venture further afield. Why should we not
penetrate into the Abruzzi ? a region little known to the ordi-
nary visitor, but embracing a vast mountainous district extend-
ing from Aquila on the north almost down to the confines of
the Neapolitan territory.

For various reasons we select Solmona as our headquarters ;
thus, it happened in the early days of May we found our-
selves steaming across the Campagna. It was an unusually
late spring, and great masses of white cloud lazily sailed
across the blue overhead, producing lovely effects of light and
shadow. Though the distance from Rome to Solmona might
easily be traversed in four hours, it takes nearly double

that time to accomplish the
journey, for there are no fast
trains on this sleepy line. Past
Tivoli and its falls we glide, and
at Coneto Romano we began to
get interested, for we were now
in the " Unknown " ; through
Carsoli, then Scutgola, to Avez-
zano, each and all possessed of
fine castles more or less decayed.
*- After leaving Avezzano the line
skirts the basin of the famous

Lago di Fucino, once a sheet
of water thirty-five miles in cir-
cumference and sixty-five feet
deep, well stocked with pike,
carp, tench, and barbel. Many
attempts were made by the an-
cient Romans to drain the lake,
but none succeeded, and it re-
mained for Prince Torlonia to
accomplish the success of the
feat by spending 1,750,000 in
the undertaking. So doubtful did the enterprise appear that
the saying arose : " O Torlonia secca il Fucino, o il Fucino
secca Torlonia (Either Torlonia will clean out Fucino, or Fucino
will clean out Torlonia}." Now a vast and fertile valley, where

almond-trees and vines
flourish amid springing
wheat, maize, hemp, and
vegetables of all kinds,
yields an interest of 2^
per cent, on the capital
invested.

Next comes Celano,
the birthplace in the thir-
teenth century of the
Beato Tomaso di Cela-
no, the supposed author
of the grand old hymn
" Dies irae, dies _ ilia."
After this the rich basin
of the Fucino is left be-
hind, snow-tipped moun-
tains begin to rise, while
the nearer hills seem but
heaps of broken rock ;
more and more arid
grows the district as the
train slowly toils up one
ascent after another and
passes through a series of
tunnels, till suddenly, at
Rajano, we begin to de-
scend till we reach An-
versa, where we double
back on a lower level
and steam into Solmona,
which, though standing
one thousand, five hun-
dred and seventy feet
above sea-level, yet lies
on a plain, or more cor-
rectly, " a cultivated val-
ley, at the end of which,
on an isolated platform
reached by a viaduct, is
the stately town, crowned
by many towers and back-
ed by great masses of

PEASANT WOMEN OF SOLMONA.

.236 IN SIGHT OF THE GRAN SASSO. [May,

snow. On the left the monastery of Celestine is seen beneath
the mountain, and his once famous hermitage clinging eyrie-like
to one of its ridges."

Solmona itself is an uninteresting place. The streets are
roughly paved with huge, uneven blocks of stone ; there are
few picturesque bits and quaint byways as in the Umbrian
hill-towns, but the snow-mountains rear their crests above the
house-tops and form grand vistas at the end of every street
and alley. Many of the public buildings were destroyed by
earthquakes of 1803 and the following year, and there is little
to be seen beyond the Palazzo Communale, with its wondroirsly
beautiful front, a rare example of the Cinque-cento style.
Statues of popes and cardinals adorn the fagade between ex-
quisitely carved windows, rich in traceries of fruit and flowers ;
in one " the pilasters, which imitate palm-trees, rest upon lions,
while the rose above is upheld by floating angels."

Several of the churches have fine Gothic doorways, that of
Santa Maria della Tomba (built on the site of a temple of
Jupiter) being surmounted by a grand wheel rose-window,
while that of St. Francesco d'Assisi is unique, consisting of a
series of six Norman round arches resting on columns. This
doorway, the finest specimen of its kind in Italy, is all that
remains of the church, which was entirely destroyed by the
earthquake, and whose ruined cloister and interior now serve
as -a meat-market.

The birthplace of Ovid is here, who entertained a deep affec-
tion for his native town, alluding to it in various of his poems,
and once in these words : " Sulmo mihi patria est, gelidis uber-
rimus undis "; his memory is still revered by the inhabitants,
who have named their principal street after him, adorning it
with a poor statue of the poet, who is, however, more honored
by a black bust which adorns the quadrangle of the local boys'
school, the Collegio Ovide.

Very characteristic is the huge Piazza Garibaldi. In the
centre of the great space is a fountain, dwarfed by the expanse
of bare ground around it, usually covered by the rough stalls
of the market-women ; or oftener, innocent of any attempt at
support, the goods are laid flat on Mother Earth, and one wan-
ders through heaps of brown pottery, bundles of faggots, piles
of vegetables, neat little armies of sacks containing samples of
vario.us grains or dried beans, etc. The carts and beasts of
burden which brought the goods are put on one side, the cattle
unharnessed and tethered to the wheels. Low houses bound it on

i QOO.]

IN SIGHT OF THE GRAN SASSO.

237

two sides ; the ends of the Piazza are closed, one by the church
of St. Filippo with its Gothic doorway, and the little oratory of
St. Rocco with the chain of the Morrone behind, while the oppo-
site end is occupied by the six pointed arches of an aqueduct,
built in 1400, forming a most picturesque feature. Seen through
and above the aqueduct is the glorious portal of St. Francesco,
and throngs are ever ascending and descending the broad
flight of steps beneath the arches which afford the easiest
access to the Piazza.

Of local trades there seem to be few, if we except the
famous confetti (sugar-plums); shops are filled with rosaries,
adorned with tinsel and artificial flowers, made of these strange
beads, which run from the size of billiard balls to that of small
peas. They are in sugar of very truth, but it would require
large mouth-space and much sucking to affect their stony sur-
face ; however, there must be a considerable sale, for we saw
numbers of women busied in their manufacture. "Vino Cotto "
is also a specialty of Solmona, and in former days much of
the parchment used for book-binding in Rome was prepared
here.

Dusty, white high-roads stretch out on every side from the
town, and the absence of shade strikes painfully. In the near
plain rises a stony hill crowned by a hermitage dedicated to
St. Onofrio ; and three in honor of Sts. Cosmo e Damiano, St.
Terenzio, with an unknown saint whose name we did not catch,
stand on outjutting spurs of the mountains, " looking at each

IN SIGHT OF THE GRAN SASSO.

[May,

other," as our driver remarked. Magnificent are the shapes of
the snow-mountains outlined against the sky : the Gran Sasso
d'ltalia, the Majella, Morrone, Rajano, and others forming an
unbroken chain which encircles the plain like a girdle on the
south-west, west, and north ; to the south and east lower hills
take their place which, though snow-mantled at the time of
our visit, are below the line of perpetual snow which the Gran
Sasso alone rises above, forming the highest point south of the
Alps.

There are no wild flowers save an occasional sprig of
hawthorn or honeysuckle growing on the hedges, but now and
then the air was filled with sweetness as we passed a bean-
field. Birds are also rare, save goldfinches, magpies, and
martins; once we caught the brilliant yellow and black tints of
a golden oriole as it flashed across our view ; huge green
lizards abounded, darting in and out of the furrows, or basking
on sunbaked walls. A strange custom prevails of stacking
enormous piles of firewood, or canne, among the branches of
the trees, which in the distance produces the effect of gigantic
birds' nests. The nearer hills bare and arid as they look
are cultivated to the summit, representing infinite toil and
labor, since the fields have to be cleared stone by stone before
the soil can be turned to use, and the patient workers come
miles from scattered hamlets. At early dawn they set forth,
and do not tread the homeward road till sunset; the seed
sown is stamped down into the ground by the men's bare feet.
Women take an equal share of field work with the men, and

form Eastern-looking fig-
ures as they stoop down
to weed or hoe, their
white panni falling round
them in artistic folds. It
is no wonder that such a
hard life ages them pre-
maturely, and we were
struck by the number of
brown, shrivelled old wo-
men ; though the girls
are often very handsome,
there seems to be no
middle age.

Icy winters are suc-
1 ceeded by burning sum-

i QOO.]

IN SIGHT OP THE GRAN SASSO.

239

ST. ALESSANDRO.

mers when the pitiless sun strikes unchecked on the treeless plain
and arid hills, where sheep and goats, guarded by fierce dogs,
browse on such scanty herbage as they can pick up between the
stones. There are here no soft swelling hills, pellucid streams,
or green woods as in Umbria ; everything is stern and rugged.
The gray, snow-fed streams tear along angrily in their rocky
beds; ruined towers crown the heights of little brown paesi
built on apparently inaccessible crags, so brown that except
when touched by a ray of sunshine it is impossible to dis-
cern where the rock ends and the village begins. Yet the
snow-mountains have a grandeur of their own, and the effects of
chiar-oscuro, as the snow peaks suddenly grow radiant in the
dazzling sunlight ; while the nearer hills, dark with passing
cloud-shadows, are wondrously beautiful.

Wooden wayside crosses adorned with rudely sculptured
objects of the Passion are common, for the Abruzzese still re-
tain an unweakened faith, largely mixed with ignorance and
superstition indeed, but none the less real for all that ; their
hard lives, lived at such a low level, can leave them but scant
leisure for aught beyond the daily round of toil, and they
cling to their " religion " with a touching simplicity. As the
women walk home from their field labor they finger their
rosaries, telling their beads, or kneel down to pray at the way-

240 IN SIGHT OF THE GRAN SASSO. [May,

side shrines, while the men reverently uncover their heads
every time they pass the sacred symbol or a church.

The sound of the Angelus bell will collect the whole
population of one of the small Abruzzi towns in its churches.
The open-air life in many of these villages where all the spin-
ning, lace-making, and other avocations are carried on in the
street, brings the people wonderfully together, and unites their
interests and associations as those of one great family, and if
a poor person dies, it is not unusual to see the whole town
attend the funeral, while orphans who have been born in the
place become regarded as universal property, and receive a
share of the attentions and care of all. On a summer evening,
when crowds of the inhabitants of a mountain town are sitting
out in the shady street at their work, it is not unusual for one
of them to take up one of the long, melancholy, never-ending
songs which are handed down here for generations, and for
the whole people to join in the choruses. These songs are in-
exhaustible, varying from the short, lively catches in two lines,
called stornelli, to long ballads which sometimes succeed one
another in more than a hundred verses.

During our stay at Solmona the annual May festa to the
Madonna at Pratola, a village two hours distant, took place,
and thither flocked the whole country-side from miles around.
Strings of carts succeeded each other along the roads, crowded
beyond description with women and children, many of whom
carried tapers, singing litanies as they went ; the men followed
on foot, joining in the refrain : " Eviva Maria, eviva Maria ! "
Those who came from afar spent the night in the churches or
in the open piazzas ; the whole air was full of the sound of
chanting, for the echoes of one company had not died away
ere another approached. Most of the carts held sixteen or
twenty people, seated on planks laid cross or lengthwise, five
persons paying fifty centesimi (a penny per head) for a drive of
eight or ten miles ! Most striking was the beauty of the wo-
men's costumes, for though in essentials they resemble each
other, almost every paese has some 'peculiar, time-honored dis-
tinction. The dress round Solmona itself consists of a short
skirt of dark homespun, and a breastplate of scarlet flannel ;
on the head is worn a white linen, cloth trimmed with coarse
embroidery, falling below the waist and ending in a fringe ;
over this again a blood-red or bright blue woollen cloth is folded
square, which in wet weather is worn as a cloak ; massive gold
necklaces and ear-rings, or strings of golden or coral beads, com-

1900.]

IN SIGHT OF THE GRAN SASSO.

241

plete this most becoming attire. That of the women of Scanno
(five hours from Solmona) is, however, quite different, and has
remained unchanged since Lear thus described it fifty years
ago: "The costume of the women of Scanno is extremely
peculiar, and suggests an oriental origin, particularly when (as
is not unusually the case with the elder females) a white hand-
kerchief is bound round the lower part of the face, concealing
all but the eyes and nose. In former days the material of the
Scanno dress was scarlet cloth richly ornamented with green
velvet, gold lace, etc. ; the shoes of blue worked satin, and the
shoulder-straps of massive silver, a luxury of vestments now
only possessed by a very few. At present both the skirt and
bodice are of black or dark blue cloth, the former being ex-
tremely full, and the waist very short ; the apron is of scarlet
or crimson stuff. The head-dress is very striking : a white
handkerchief is surmounted by a falling cap of dark cloth
among the poorer orders, but of worked purple satin with the
rich ; and this again is bound turbanwise by a white or prim-
rose colored fillet striped with various colors, though, excepting
on festa days, the poor do not wear this additional band. The
hair is plaited very beautifully with ribbon ; the ear-rings, but-
tons, necklaces, and chains are of silver in rich families, often
exceedingly costly."

The men's costume
resembles that of the
Spanish peasants, con-
sisting of " white shirts,
and full breeches of
white linen fastened
close at the knee, blue
stockings, and an open
sleeveless jacket of blue
cloth, with a scarlet
sash."

VOL. LXXI. 1 6

242 IN SIGHT OF THE GRAN SASSO. [May,

Just outside Solmona is the church of St. Panfilio, with a
fine Gothic doorway, and a curious Byzantine Madonna and
Child of the eighth century, in alto-rilievo, in the crypt. Two
miles beyond, at the foot of the Morrone, is the great Badia,
formerly the monastery of St. Pietro Celestino, now converted
into a prison ; it was built with materials taken from the ruins
of Corfinium, and a more dreary, hideous edifice it would be
difficult to find. Some remains of reticulated brickwork on
the slopes of the hill are supposed to belong to a villa of
Ovid. An hour's steep climbing up an almost precipitous path
leads to the hermitage built over the cave inhabited by Pietro
Morrone, which seen from below appears absolutely inaccessi-
ble. Hence, in 1294, the venerable hermit was dragged from
his retreat, at the age of seventy-six, to fill the Papal throne
under the name of Celestine V., a dignity he abdicated five
months afterwards. Here the archbishop and two bishops who
had been sent by the conclave to announce his elevation to
the Papal chair fell upon their knees before the hermit, and so
astonished him with the news that he sought escape from his
new and unexpected honors by flight. It was here also that
Charles II. and his son Charles Martel came to accompany the
new pope to his coronation, and held the bridle of his mule
as he made his entry into the city of Aquila, where his conse-
cration took place in the presence of a vast multitude.

We drove to Corfinium, an hour and a half from Solmona,
the road leading through the same monotonous fields with bean
and corn crops occupying the ground beneath the vines. Beau-
tiful as it sounds, such scenery becomes tiresome, and we
hailed with delight the advent of a procession of old women
draped in their red panni, each bearing a load on her head,
arid leaning on a long staff, looking like Macbeth's witches as
they passed. Though we were in May, clouds trailed down
the mountain sides and blotted out their summits. Rocca-
casale, a most picturesque village built against a spur of rock,
stood out in a passing ray of sunlight, and after a steady
climb we drove through Pentina (the ancient Peligna) ; a mile
further we reached the site of Corfinium. Little remains now
but two fragments of an aqueduct once stretching across the
plain to mark the existence of the capital of the Peligni,
boasting before the Christian era a fine forum and senate-
house. The curiosities found among the ruins include a most
important collection of Roman domestic implements, with arms
and weapons found in the entrenchment made by Caesar dur-

1900.]

IN SIGHT OF THE GRAN SASSO.

243

SANTA MARIA DELLA TOMBA.

ing the famous siege, and are stored in a small museum at
Pentina. By the roadside stands the Church of St. Pelino, built
in the thirteenth century, with stones quarried from the ruins
of Corfinium. . The interior contains nothing noteworthy beyond
a finely carved ambo, but in the adjoining Church of St.
Alessandro, which dates from 1102, and is now disused, there
is a most interesting episcopal chair and a stone table-altar
with ancient frescoes on the wall behind.

What greatly spoiled our enjoyment throughout our so-
journ at Solmona was the pitiable condition of the horses,
which made driving almost prohibitive. The cart-horses were
no better, and it seemed ironical that these poor emaciated
animals should wear the elaborately decorated harness, often
surmounted by a perfect pagoda of brass, rising story above
story, each separate landing having a peal of bells, with gener-
ally a sort of little windmill at the top to keep off the flies,

244 I N SIGHT OP THE GRAN SASSO. [May,

and in front a figure of St. Antonio standing detached in an
attitude of benediction.

Strangers are apparently rarely seen at Solmona, for we
were followed by a crowd whenever we ventured out on 'foot,
and the working of the photographic camera under these cir-
cumstances was a difficulty, though otherwise the population is
simple and unspoilt. Their language is a dialect of the Nea-
politan type, and is utterly incomprehensible to the ordinary
Italian scholar. Our quarters in the excellent little " Albergo
Monzu " at the entrance to the town left nothing to be de-
sired, for, spite of dusty brick floors and bare walls, everything
was scrupulously clean, and the fare was sumptuous to those
who can accustom themselves to the true Italian cookery, in
which oil is by no means a necessary ingredient. Most savory
country dishes were concocted for us by the handsome padrona
and her sister, who honored us by their special attention and
attendance ; but alas ! the clouds which hung about ever since
our arrival became daily more threatening despite our being
in the flowery month of May, and at last gave place to steady
rain blotting out the view on all sides ; so we had perforce to
stay indoors and study the strange legends of the neighbor-
hood, instead of going to Aquila and the district round Ama-
trice, which we had to leave unexplored until, at an early date,
a fine spring may enable us to satisfy our curiosity to view
the snows of the Gran Sasso from a nearer point.

1900.] THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE FOR 1899. 245

THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE FOR 1899.*

BY REV. JAMES J. FOX, D.D. (Catholic University of America).

;N the year 1750 Judge Paul Dudley founded in
Harvard University a course of lectures to be
delivered annually. The purpose of one of the
lectures was fixed to be the " detecting and cor-
recting and exposing the idolatry of the Romish
Church, its tyranny, usurpations, damnable heresies, fatal
errors, superstitions, and other crying wickednesses in its high
places " ; and to showing that " the Church of Rome is that
mystical Babylon, that man of sin, that apostate Church spoken
of in the New Testament." Most of the lecturers who were
called upon to discharge this office delivered lectures which
were in perfect harmony with the spirit of the founder. The
superstitions and errors of the Catholic Church were taken,
not from Catholic doctrine but from the prevailing anti-Catho-
lic tradition which flourished in the Protestant mind. Errors
were confuted, wickedness scorched, damnable heresies exposed
which were never any part of Catholic doctrine.

DR. TOY TRIES TO BE FAIR.

The latest of these lectures, however, was delivered by a
scholarly gentleman who, ignoring the traditional methods of
the church's assailants, has gone to Catholic sources for Catho-
lic doctrines, and given himself the trouble of mastering their
real meaning. He has made a study of a number of the writ-
ings of Leo XIII., rightly judging that in them is to be found
an authoritative presentation of Catholic belief. His estimate
of what is to be taken as an ex cathedra, and consequently an
infallible, declaration is, as might be expected, one that Catho-
lic theology would not endorse. In one passage, for example,
he refers to "the Syllabus of Pius IX. (see the Bullarium
Romanorum), (sic) of which," he continues, " it cannot be doubted
that it is put forth as an ex-cathedral (sic) utterance." The Catho-
lic theologian who can read this passage without smiling must
be a very grave personage indeed. If Dr. Toy will examine
some of the writings published relating to the Syllabus (as, for
example, the articles in the Civilta Cattolica by Father Rinaldi,

* The text of the lecture is to be found in the Christian Register, January 18, 1900.

246 THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE fOR 1899. [May,

S.J.*), he will see that he is much more dogmatic on this point
than are Catholic authorities. In some other instances, too,
Dr. Toy has not grasped the exact purport of Catholic prac-
tices and beliefs ; but he has evidently been actuated by a
spirit of fairness, as rare as it is commendable. If all the
representatives of Harvard followed his methods and displayed
his spirit, the consecrated term by which her sons love to
designate their gracious Alma Mater by the Charles would be
hers by a double right ; she would be Fair Harvard not me-rely
in the aesthetic but in the nobler juridical sense of the word.

AN ACQUITTAL FOR CATHOLIC DOCTRINES.

Dr. Toy expresses his opinion that the chief dogmas and
practices of the church are nowise in conflict with the spirit
of true religion. " In certain points," he says, "as the Trinity,
the two natures in the Second Person, salvation by Christ
alone, eternal rewards and punishments, and the divine author-
ity of the Jewish and Christian Scriptures, the pope agrees
with the mass of the Christian world." If Dr. Toy had said
that on these subjects the pope's doctrine agrees with what
was the belief of the mass of the Christian world one hundred,
or perhaps fifty years ago, he would have been more accurate.
What is the belief of the mass of the Christian world outside
the Catholic Church to-day it passes the wit of man to dis-
cover, or* rather it is quite evident that on no one of these
points is there any unity of belief whatever, not even on that
which was the common basis of all Protestant sects the divine
authority of Scripture.

The cult of Mary, the doctrine of the Immaculate Concep-
tion, Dr. Toy finds not to be incompatible with the belief in
the alone saving power of Christ. Purgatory is not an un-
christian dogma. Even the doctrine of indulgences, the
" damnable error " which more than any other has always
brought out all the powers of denunciation and invective pos-
sessed by the Protestant polemic, Dr. Toy finds reasonable.
" An indulgence, according to the modern Romanist definition
of the term, is not a remission of sin or of the eternal punish-
ment due to mortal sin, nor a permission to commit sin in the
future " (this was the accepted Protestant definition), " but sim-
ply a total or partial remission of the temporal punishment still
due^ to sin after the guilt has been remitted by penance." The
modern Catholic definition of indulgences is precisely the same

* Series XIII., vol. ii. ff. See also // Valore del Syllabo, Roma, 1888. La Vraie et la
Fausse de I infallibilitl du Pape, Fessler, p. 132.

1900.] THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE FOR 1899. 247

definition as always has been given by the church and theo-
logians. This fact is very easily discovered by anybody who
will give himself the trouble of consulting, at first hand, the
writings of Catholic theologians of past times.* Sacramental
absolution Dr. Toy declares to be but the formulation of a
Scriptural and universal idea, provided it is conditioned on
true repentance ; and the least instructed Catholic is aware
that he does not receive absolution at all unless he is sorry
for his sins, and resolved to avoid sin in future.

" It may, then, as it seems to me, be concluded," Dr. Toy
sums up, "that none of the doctrines and usages so far
mentioned " and he has mentioned several others than those
above referred to " can be regarded as in themselves fatal to
spiritual religion." We fancy that the dust of Paul Dudley
must have stirred in protest at this wholesale acquittal of the
brood of the man of sin.

THE CHURCH'S AUTHORITY IN FAITH AND MORALS.

Of course Dr. Toy does not assume the position of an
apologist for Catholicity, but of a critic ; and after making
these liberal admissions he brings forward the point of Catho-
lic doctrine which he would subject to scrutiny ; that is, the
claim of the church to supreme control over faith and morals.
The authority thus claimed he in some places designates as
absolute, in others as external. Absolute is a term susceptible
of a meaning that would not represent justly the nature of the
authority claimed by the church ; hence, we can hardly think
that Dr. Toy meant to use it in the sense of tyrannical, but
rather in that of supreme. It is certainly a fundamental dogma,
and from one point of view the fundamental dogma of Catho-
licity, that the church derives from her divine Founder a
supreme authority over faith and morals. This principle Dr.
Toy finds abundantly asserted in the various documents of
Leo XIII. which he has examined. The gist of his lecture is
to consider whether external authority, as opposed to individu-
alism, is best calculated to promote the religious and moral
advancement of men. Such authority seems to him irreconcila-
ble with the rights of the individual conscience, whose essence
he holds to be independence, for " in the last appeal every man
must be a law unto himself." On the other hand, though ad-
mitting that individualism has produced many and great diversi-

* Compare the Formula of Indulgences granted by Leo XI. (Amort, Hist, fndulg.) in
1517 with the Form of the Jubilee Indulgences issued by Leo XIII. for the present year.
They will be found identical.

248 THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE FOR 1899. [May,

ties of opinion on religious, philosophical, and social questions,
he holds that it may yet be relied upon to establish for men
harmony and peace in the moral and religious life. " Never-
theless it may, I think, be maintained that free individualism
is in its nature not anarchical but, on the contrary, has tended,
in politics, sociology, and religion, to create its own moral
guidance, and to establish vitality, orderliness, unity, and peace."
The grounds upon which Dr. Toy bases this conclusion are the
fact that man's " knowledge of his own finiteness impels him to
seek peace and unity," "that this has been the tendency in
the physical sciences and in social and political life," and
" there is no reason why similar untrammelled action should
not bring about similar results in the world of morals and re-
ligion ; and this in fact has been the result." In coming to this
conclusion Dr. Toy must have entirely overlooked one of the
essential factors of the problem, as well as some of the most
patent facts of history and of contemporary life.

NATURE OF PROGRESS IN THE SCIENTIFIC ORDER.

The powers of the human mind when employed in the ac-
quisition of knowledge concerning the physical world, and
those human relations which are involved in the daily experi-
ence of the individual and the race, have capabilities vastly dif-
ferent from what they possess for the solution of the great fun-
damental questions of the religious life. In the physical sciences
the law of the human mind is progress. The rate of progress
may vary it is now slow, now rapid, sometimes intermittent ; but
it never changes to retrogression. Once a truth of the physical
world is reached and conclusively proved, it is so much more
knowledge added for all time to the heritage of the human
race. A mathematical demonstration is never gainsaid ; a fact
of physics, chemistry, or biology, once it is sufficiently attested,
is elevated to the rank of incontestable truths. The man who
continues to theorize vaguely about their existence writes him-
self down a visionary, and whoever contests them is held to be
little better than a lunatic. The gains of one generation are
bequeathed to the next ; the goal reached by the scientists of
yesterday is the starting-point for those of to-day, and where
the work of these finish the investigations of those who come
after them will begin. Divergent views and conflicting theories
give .way to harmony when demonstration and experiment have
established a conclusion.

What is true of the purely demonstrative and experimental

1900.] THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE FOR 1899. 249

sciences is true to a certain extent of the great principles of the
moral law which underlie the moral relations of mankind in its
individual, social, and pDlitical development; for this develop-
ment is largely associated with experience. The moral law is
concretized in the nature of man and of the universe in which
he passes his existence. If he would develop his faculties in
accordance with the innate tendency of his nature, society is
necessary ; and society implies the practical acceptance of some
moral code, however crude. If among individuals there is a
wide-spread violation of the laws which ought to govern human
relations, especially those of the sexes, the germs of corruption
are introduced into the national life. Thus far individual reason
becomes a principle of unity in the moral life.

But when we pass from the more obvious and imperative
dictates of common individual and social morality to the de-
velopment of a complete system worthy of rational life, and
necessary to any high ideal, immediately divergence of opinions
arises, which in the absence of any established controlling
authority must continue, and by continuance become more and
more pronounced. A glance at the conflicting views enter-
tained to-day in this country on the nature of marriage the
most momentous of all human relations is a sufficient illustra-
tion of this truth. Let us suppose that the much-enfeebled
and waning influence of the Christian standard on this subject
were removed from the hearts of the people as well as from
the laws of the nation, and who is so visionary as to say that
there would be any uniformity or agreement on this momen-
tous question ? Besides, there cannot be any stable, efficacious
system of morality established for masses of men and justified
before reason without settling the value of moral obligation ;
and at this point the moral problem blends with the religious.

IN THE FIELD OF RELIGIOUS INQUIRY DIVERGENCES EXIST OF

A NECESSITY.

When the human mind enters the field of religious inquiry
it is confronted with a task radically different from that which
it successfully wrestles with in other spheres of knowledge.
Laying aside supernatural revelation and all that belongs to it,
what progress towards unity of knowledge concerning God has
the human mind made since the days of Plato or of the publica-
tion of De Natura Rerum ? None whatever. There is the same
unending conflict of idealist and materialist, of theist and
pantheist and determinist. We are all familiar, indeed, with

250 THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE FOR ifyp. [May,

the fuss that some writers make about the wonderfully more
perfect knowledge which we have of the Supreme Being since
the invention of the evolutionary theory. One fact will indi-
cate the value of this pretension, without adducing many others
which might be cited. Mr. Herbert Spencer, who surely must
be recognized as the ex-cathedra exponent of evolution, has
done his best to establish the view that the human mind
is inevitably driven to assume, not as the result of argument
but as a postulate for which it can offer no logical proof, the
existence of a Universal Absolute. Next he insists, through
many a dreary page, that reason only stultifies itself, not alone
when it endeavors to comprehend but even when it attempts
to form for itself any kind of coherent notion, however vague,
concerning the nature of this Absolute. Especially if any one
speaks of the First Cause as having powers infinitely greater
than human intelligence and will, but pre-eminently containing
all -the efficacy that these human faculties are capable of, such
language is evidence for Mr. Spencer of the persistence of the
ignorance and credulity characteristic of the barbarian or
primeval savage. Mr. Spencer, consistently with his principles,
attempts to show that the whole science of morals may be con-
structed without once referring to the Unknowable. Having
perused Mr. Spencer, the reader may proceed to Mr. Fiske,
who, in the name of evolution, recognizes the Unknowable as
the eternal source of the moral law, and who speaks of obedi-
ence to that law as the source of a happiness which is incor-
ruptible. The views of the master and the disciple on the
knowledge which we have of God, considered in its bearing on
practical life, are widely divergent. And the divergences exist-
ing among teachers of the same school are as nothing com-
pared to those which exist between opposite camps. There is
just now a very wide-spread tendency among English-speaking
philosophers towards theism. But this tendency towards unity
is rather superficial than profound. On the bosom of a sheet
of water one may sometimes see a quantity of driftwood close-
ly packed together and apparently forming a solid mass. But
it is held together by nothing more permanent than the tem-
porary conditions of currents and winds. On the inevitable
variation of these forces it will break up again into fragments
that will go off in every direction. This is precisely the character
of the present fortuitous unity of philosophical thought rela-
tive to the existence of God. The same term, God, is used by
different writers to express very different and frequently irre-

IQOO.] THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE FOR 1899. 251

concilable conceptions. The arguments are drawn from totally
opposed philosophical systems. One widely esteemed authority
seeks a proof of God's existence in the idealism which holds
that there is nothing real for us outside our own conscious
ness. Another bases his theism on the common-sense view
that, although this world is a fleeting show, it is a very real
affair while it lasts. The unity of agreement is superficial ;
underneath it is a war of. mutually destructive principles.
Human reason will always regard such arguments as wanting
that character whose presence in mathematical and experimental
proof elicits and retains its assent.

PHILOSOPHICAL SPECULATION LEADS TO CONFLICTING OPINIONS.

Concerning all the other great questions involved in reli-
gion, the destiny of man, the immortality of the soul, the
investigations of men exhibit the same scene of conflict and
disagreement, master against master, school against school.
Through every age in these speculations the pendulum of
human thought has been beating time by oscillating from one
extreme to the other. While the human mind has been steadily
progressing, from the beginning, in the mathematical and cog-
nate sciences, and gathering, particle by particle, masses of
unquestionable knowledge in every field of human experience,
physical and moral, it has not yet succeeded in demonstrating
in a way to put it beyond challenge one simple principle of
philosophy, nor thrown one single ray of steady light upon the
mystery of existence. It is a far cry from the observation re-
corded by Thales of Miletus, that amber when rubbed with a
piece of silk attracts light bodies, to the knowledge that turns
the night of our cities into day and drives countless wheels of
industry. But the fact noticed by Thales was the origin of all
the admirable inventions of Edison. From it there was no
retrogression. But all the efforts of all the philosophers who
have thought and wrangled for thousands of years have not
made good for mankind one single step of advance in knowl
edge of the world outside of sense and time, in such a manner
as to establish anything beyond dispute. And anybody who
reflects on the conditions of the search will readily affirm that
for mere philosophical speculation the future will be like the past.

If from natural we turn to supernatural religion to find
what is the outcome of free individualism, there is no need for
any deductive reasoning. We have its natural results, under
our eyes. Si monumentum quceris, circumspice. The prevailing

252 THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE FOR 1899. [May,

condition of belief in Protestant sects, each one of which
started its existence with a firm profession of some Christian
dogmas, and all with a profound conviction of the inspiration
of Scripture, are at present in a state of chaos. Governing
bodies are afraid to affirm their creeds ; or if they do affirm
them, intimating at the same time that individuals are under no
obligation of accepting. And among members no ' uniformity
of belief is any longer left or expected. This throwing over-
board does, of course, produce unity of a certain sort ; a unity
akin to the equality of riches which a bandit establishes among
his prisoners by despoiling all impartially of whatever they
possess. It reduces Christianity to the level of natural reli-
gion, denies any inherent authority to Christ, individual reason
again becomes the sole guide to truth, and Sisyphus begins
rolling his stone once more.

AUTHORITY THE ONLY SOURCE OF UNITY.

Since free individualism is inadequate to the establishment
of harmonious peaceful unity, it follows that if such unity is
to be obtained by the human mind it must come from a prin-
ciple of authority, if God has vouchsafed no other means.
This principle of authority must be clothed with two preroga-
tives : it must be of such a nature that it can offer to the
human mind a basis of infallible certitude for religious knowl-
edge ; it must have the right to give that knowledge, and
there must exist a correlative duty for the human mind to
accept it as reliable. The doctrine of the Catholic Church is
that God gave such a supernatural knowledge to man, through
divine revelation which was completed and perfected in the
doctrine taught and the religion established by his Divine Son,
Jesus Christ. If he came with divine authority to teach and
guide all men, his authority must be perpetuated in some liv-
ing, enduring organ, deriving from him, otherwise his doctrine
is abandoned to the interpretation of free individualism and by
the vagaries of this principle is rendered nugatory. The Catho-
lic Church claims to be this living organ, and establishes her
claim by showing her uninterrupted continuity, and her iden-
tity with that society which the Master founded, and which he
commissioned to teach mankind.

AN OBJECTION ANSWERED.

The objection made to this claim of external authority is
that it is incompatible with the inalienable rights of the indi-
vidual conscience. If the analysis of its nature made by the

IQOO.] THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE FOR 1899. 253

church's opponents were true, it would be an unjust tyranny
over conscience. But when fairly understood it will be found
nowise to conflict with the rights of individual reason either in
the speculative or in the practical field. Let us examine it
briefly as it plays its part in the domain of belief, and in that
of moral action. As Dr. Toy observes, there is laid upon man
the obligation of reaching truth as far as in him lies. Not, of
course, every kind of truth for all men. Everybody, for exam-
ple, is not under any obligation of studying mathematics, or
sociology, or botany. But all are bound to acquire, as far as
in them lies, the knowledge necessary to the fulfilment of their
moral duties, and to attain the essential perfection of their
nature. Now, there are two ways of reaching knowledge. One
is through the evidence, direct or indirect, which appeals to
and wins the consent of our reason. The other is by that of
authority. And when reason is satisfied that the authority
which makes a statement is fully trustworthy, the assent to
such a statement is just as reasonable as the assent which we
give to truths that we have discovered for ourselves. And for
by far the greater part of pur knowledge in every sphere it is
on authority that we rely. Furthermore, in whichever of these
two ways we reach the knowledge of a truth we are no longer
free, if we wish to remain reasonable, to speculate vaguely up-
on the matter. Even the most inveterate advocate of inde-
pendent thought will admit that no reasonable man is free to
question seriously the statement that the earth revolves on jts
axis, or that there is such a place as Ladysmith in South
Africa, or that Napoleon Bonaparte was defeated at Waterloo
and died at Longwood. Yet most men must take all these
facts on authority ; and when reason finds the authority relia-
ble, it would but act against its own nature to deny any of them.
This is precisely the kind of assent which a Catholic gives to
the teaching of the church. He has reasonable and sufficient
grounds for believing her to be appointed by Christ to teach
and guide her children, and endowed with the necessary powers
to fulfil that function. When the church proposes a dogma for
acceptance he knows that he is acting according to right rea-
son in accepting that dogma as a statement of truth ; and to
hesitate to receive it until he would have found out the matter
for himself would be an absurdity. He knows, furthermore,
that if he holds any views contrary to such a doctrine, his
method of investigation or sources of information must have
led him astray. If science has demonstrated any fact which
seems to conflict with dogma, he knows that both are true and

254 THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE FOR 1899. [May,

that the conflict is but apparent, and is bound to disappear.
The assent to any doctrine proposed by the church no more
does violence to the individual reason than does the assent
which we give to any other kind of knowledge of which we
have no direct demonstration or proof, but which we hold on
the authority of others.

AUTHORITY CONSISTENT WITH RIGHTS OF CONSCIENCE.

It now remains to be pointed out how the authority of
the church in morals is perfectly consistent with the rights
of conscience as the final guide of life. Conscience is reason
acting as the internal authoritative regulator and norm of
conduct according to the law which divides right and wrong
in the moral world. As such it is, indeed, the ultimate author-
ity for every human being. Against its dictates no man may,
under any circumstances, lawfully act. It is the voice of God
in the human soul. The responsibility of every rational being
before God is determined by the measure of fidelity which he
has shown towards this authority. This is the doctrine of the
Catholic Church. She respects the sanctity of conscience. Her
authority bears upon it in two ways : (i) By legislation, (2) By
direction, chiefly in the sacrament of penance. The church's
power of legislation is derived from her appointment to teach
and guide her members ; for the power of imposing laws re-
straining from evil and stimulating towards good, is the
essential and appropriate means for the guidance of rational
beings. Such a law, when made, becomes part of the great
objective standard of right and wrong which, fundamentally
constituted by the natural law, comprises in its sweep all laws
made by any legitimately constituted authority acting within
its lawful powers. A first principle of natural morality is that
every lawful authority ought to be obeyed. In virtue of this
principle civil governments possess the right of legislating for
the common good. When a just law is imposed every right-
minded citizen recognizes in his conscience that it is to be
obeyed. Nor does he consider such a law a violation of his
independence. His new obligation is but a legitimate conse-
quence of more general antecedent obligations. In precisely
the same way the Catholic, recognizing in conscience that he
is obliged to obey lawfully constituted authority, and knowing,
besides, that the church is the supreme authority in morals and
religion, feels in his conscience that he is morally bound to
obey her. His obedience is a compliance with the dictates of
conscience.

1900.] THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE FOR 1899. 255

A MAN MAY NOT ACT AGAINST HIS CONSCIENCE.

In the direction of the individual conscience a first princi-
ple is, as has been stated above, that under no circumstances
may a man act against his conscience. Non-Catholics are fre-
quently surprised to find that Catholic theology maintains this
principle. For in this particular the Protestant tradition has
been particularly false. But the fact is so, and it can be veri-
fied by anybody who will consult any Catholic moral theolo-
gian of any date or country. It frequently happens, however,
that an individual has found a false view of his obligations,
believing that he is free to act in a manner that is really
immoral, or that he is obliged to do something which in fact
he ought not to do. That we may conform our conduct to
the laws of morality, we must first know the law sufficiently ;
and, secondly, we must have a just appreciation of the nature
and consequences of the proposed action. A false judgment
upon either of these two factors will result in a false con-
science. When the confessor finds a person erring upon either
of these points, his duty is to instruct the person, to point out
the error wherever it may lie, and thereby enable the person
to exchange his erroneous view for a true one. In case, how-
ever, as sometimes happens, the individual still persists in his
error, believing right to be wrong, or wrong to be right, the
confessor may never command him to act in opposition to his
conscience. And this is the sum total of the authority which
the Catholic Church claims over the consciences of her subjects.

The church's office is, to borrow the words which Dr. Toy
applies to it hypothetically, "to act so as to cherish and de-
velop the individual conscience, and quicken the sense of the
presence of God in the soul " ; and his most cherished hope is
"to hasten the advent of a religious unity" founded, not on
the impracticable basis of " the independent convictions of
men," in the sense of Dr. Toy, but on their rational conviction
that Christ, the Son of God, by divine authority established a
religion and revealed the truth to men, and that having done
so, he took care to establish a permanent authority that should
be the exponent of this truth for all generations. The danger
which Dr. Toy apprehends, from his perusal of the works of
Leo XIII., that the church may substitute external authority
for the authority of conscience, is one which a closer study of
Catholic theology would, we are convinced, show him not to
exist.

256

THE DREAMERS.

[May.

BY T. B. REILLY.

AVE the whispered plea for final peace,
The promised pardon of a day gone wrong,
Voiceless they wait for time's heart-sought release,
Dreaming they stand amid the heedless throng.

Ever against the bulk of poignant fears
Where loom their sorrow and their grief unknown,
Gleams through the mist of ever-ended years
The goal they've lost the vacant, promised throne.

And when the regal raiment of the day
Lies doffed beneath the gloom of shadows cast,
Backward they run the well-remembered way
To soothe their souls with visions of the past.

It were the weaker part to oft recall
The crude retreat of youth's aggressive arms ;
To deem the issue lost because a fall
Threatens the field with ruinous alarms.

Gird ye the heart and laugh defeat to scorn ; .
Remember not its sting, nor weep for it,
But with a faith whence victories are born
Make good the fight with courage infinite.

What though ye never raise immortal song ?
Not every king has won his rightful throne
God-marked within the ever-shifting throng
Life's heroes live to men and fame unknown.

FATHER YOUNG AT 60 YEARS.

REV. ALFRED YOUNG, C.S.P.

DIED APRIL 4, igoo.

ftW

jjiT is our painful duty to record the death, on
April 4, at the Paulist Convent, New York City,
of the Rev. Alfred Young, one of the oldest
and best-known members of the Paulist Insti-
tute, and a frequent and valuable contributor to
the pages of this magazine during the thirty-five years it has
been before the American public. We feel very sure that a
brief sketch of his life and work will be of interest to our
readers, and we have from many sources heartfelt assurances
of regret at his going and sympathy for our loss.

The announcement of Father Young's death, though not
unexpected, has called forth fervent prayers and awakened
many holy memories, not only in New York City but throughout
the whole country. In St. Paul's parish particularly it brings
back events in which he was the leading figure, and. renews
VOL. LXXI. 17

258 REV. ALFRED YOUNG, C.S.P. [May,

impressions and hallowed scenes which are the best part of
our earthly experience and history. To many of St. Paul's
present parishioners, especially those who are only coming to
man's estate, owing to his prolonged seclusion and infirmities,
Father Young was an interesting but a pathetic figure ; as he
was wheeled past them in his invalid chair by his attendant,
he was simply the shadow of a once great name. But to those
who can go back in the history of the parish and the Paulist
Community, he was identified with their beginnings almost,
with their growth and early progress; in all that makes the
Community he had his part, and it was a great part. Of many
things which characterize both Community and parish he was
the creator. Now' that we can stand back from his life to
view it in its parts and as a whole, the sense of our obligation
to him deepens upon us, and the more brightly too are the
providential leadings of his career made manifest.

Father Young was born in Bristol, England, in 1831, of
non-Catholic parents, but being brought to this country in
infancy by them, when they took up their home at Princeton,
N. J., his training, feelings, and sentiments were wholly and
thoroughly American. Endowed with precocious talents, he
entered Princeton College as a mere lad and was graduated
therefrom at the extraordinarily early age of eighteen. Choos-
ing medicine for his profession, he made and completed his
Studies here in New York, and thus a career, one of his choice,
useful, honorable, opened out before him. But a vision seen
in boyhood had enthralled him, and a voice had spoken within
his soul stirring it to its depths and inviting him upward and
onward. It was the vision of the Church of God, the heavenly
Jerusalem come down upon the earth, and the voice was that
of Christ's Holy Spirit, who dwells within her. In one of his
many articles in this magazine he tells us how as a boy he had
wandered, at first out of mere curiosity, into a Catholic chapel,
and had felt himself drawn to come again and yet again until
the whole place, music, vestments, devotions, fascinated him.
The seed thus sown ripened by investigation, study, and prayer,
and thus he stretched heart and soul towards God's truth, " if
haply he could find it " ; and thus it came to pass that the
day which saw him at the beginning of his professional career
saw him also upon the threshold of the Catholic Church, ask-
ing for admission. It is indeed the property of God's truth to
attract and to satisfy all minds, no matter how diverse their
habit of thought or how varied their intellectual being and

1900.] REV. ALFRED YOUNG, C.S.P. 259

culture, as it is also the purpose and right of the Catholic
Church to impress and to win all men whatever their tongue
or nation; but speaking according to a limited experience, it is
rarely indeed that this presentation was so subduing, so com-
plete and satisfying, as in Father Young's case. His was a
complex, versatile, and richly endowed nature. There was in it
a religious basis, a longing not only to know divine truth, but
to come to and to
walk with God, to feel
his presence, to de-
light in his will, that
blending of reverence,
desire, and love which
makes a spiritual man ;
then upon the intellec-
tual side there was a
highly imaginative,
poetic, and artistic
temperament, and both
these, sentiment and
faith alike, were influ-
enced and controlled
by a keen dialectic
power and capacity
to all these there is
nothing under heaven
so satisfying as the
church. He was an
instance, now happily
so frequent and well
known since the Catho-
lic revival in English-speaking countries, of how perfect can be
the conversion, how noble and thorough the response candid
and cultivated minds make to God's invitation.

And what was his response, what his return for the gift of
faith ? It was that made by the Apostles to Christ himself,
" that forthwith leaving all things, they followed him." Drawn
by an interior vocation to the sanctuary, he abandoned his
profession, left home and friends and country even, and went
to the Seminary of St. Sulpice in Paris, there in that famed
abode of learning, piety, and discipline to fit himself by study
and prayer for the holy priesthood. Completing his course, he
returned home and was made a priest in 1856 by Bishop

ALFRED YOUNG AT 18 YEARS. A GRADUATE FROM
PRINCETON.

26o

REV. ALFRED YOUNG, C.S.P.

[May,

Biyley and his was the first ordination in and for the diocese
of Newark.

After a year or two of various charges, one of which was
the vice-presidency of Seton Hall College, he became pastor
of Trenton, N. J., and later on of Princeton, his own home.
He had the happiness of welcoming and helping his own
family, pirents and brothers, into the church, and his zeal and
success are still affectionately remembered and spoken of by
his former parishioners.

The work and aims of the Paulist Fathers, then in their
early stages, could not be but of immense interest to Father
Young ; similarity of views brought him to them and proved
an irresistible attraction, and this was deepened by apprecia-
tive and personal contact on a mission given by them to his
parish.

He joined the Paulists in 1862. Passing through his proba-
tion, he entered with singular zeal and ability upon the many
phases of the Community's work. Though physically not well
fitted for the many changes, the strain and excessive labor
of the missions, he developed at once into a forceful and
dramitic preacher, and his sermons, models of the impassioned

style, produced im-
mense results in the
conversion of souls.
But it was here in our
own growing parish
and upon the many
from outside, Catho-
lics and non-Catholics,
that he was to do the
most of his priestly
work ; here that he
found the field for his
energy and varied abil-
ity. As a finished
preacher, an untiring
confessor, as prefect
of various sodalities
particularly those for
boys and girls, for his
was a kind, winning,
stimulating sympathy

ALFRED YOUNG AT 21 YKARS. A MEDICAL DOCTOR. he endeared 'himsel

1900.]

REV. ALFRED YOUNG, C.S.P.

261

to all, young and old,
and was the friend,
guide, and counsellor
of all. Coming to us
just after God had
taken to himself Fa-
thers Baker and Tillot-
son,both of them men
of exquisite taste and
deep reverential knowl-
edge of the church's
liturgy and external
details of worship, he
enlarged upon their be-
ginnings, and complet-
ed that system of ex-
act and elaborate wor-
ship the characteristic
of St. Paul's church ser-
vices and the example,
in those days, of what
was not only possible
but best.

In our times, when in all departments of art, science, and
literature there are so many accomplished and strenuous
workers, advocates, teachers, and exemplars of varied excellence,
when ability is so widely diffused, it is not easy to obtain and
deserve a name, to be a leader, to make real increase to the
world's stock of knowledge and culture, or to restore what has
been adjudged valuable in the past but now fallen out of esteem ;
yet to do something of this was Father Young's good fortune
and merit. He holds a place and has done a work in one
great field, and his name will be for ever associated with the
revival of church music in this country. Himself an accom-
plished musician and possessed of a voice of exquisite timbre,
of great flexibility and power, he consecrated his gift and his
knowledge to the furtherance of God's praise in his church.
Thirty or more years ago we of the United States were but
beginners in musical matters, the standard of taste and judg-
ment had not been created or developed, and in the choice
and presentation of Catholic church music especially we con-
tented ourselves with an imitation and poor rendition of what
was intended for circumstances wholly different from our own,

REV. ALFRED YOUNG, C.S.P., AT 30. A YOUNG
MISSIONARY.

262 REV. ALFRED YOUNG, C.S.P. [May,

or with productions inferior in themselves, the compositions
sometimes of non-Catholics who neither knew nor cared for the
true place and function of music in our worship. The condi-
tion of things, ruled as it often was by some incompetent
autocrat in the choir-gallery, can only be summed up by that
much-abused word " dreadful " a dreadfulness which ranged
from the ludicrous to torture repetitions, mutilations, inappropri-
ate selections, secular adaptations, and voluntaries suited neither
to the church, to her office, to the season, nor to the singers'
capacity. There was, moreover, wide-spread ignorance, indiffer-
ence, and disregard of the traditions and of the positive in-
junctions of the church ; but the time had come for improvement.
A leader appeared in the person of Father Young. He stood
forth as the advocate and champion of the church's own in-
comparable music, the Gregorian or Plain Chant ; he set forth
the true place of music in divine worship, he recalled the
glorious traditions of the past, and demonstrated the feasibility
of their return by successfully establishing and maintaining St.
Paul's choir, composed of men and boys, who assist in cassock
and surplice and contribute their part to the full rendition of
the proper liturgical services. But this was far from all of his
work ; by trenchant articles in this magazine and in other pub-
lications he vindicated the claims of the chant to recognition
and adoption on the ground of its being a highly elaborated,
scientific, and complete system of music : he demonstrated its
eminent capacity to give fullest expression to every becoming
religious sentiment, and emphasized the undeviating and insis-
tent sanction of the church authorities, and the unique place the
ehant holds as the music of the church. He interested others
in the cause, established a Gregorian society, lectured in semi-
naries and convents, and maintained correspondence and con-
troversy both here and abroad. Equally eloquent was his ad-
vocacy and practical his action in restoring Congregational
Singing to its place as a recognized feature of public worship.
To few men is it given to realize their ideals, or to attain the
full success of their aims. But the great improvement every-
where visible, the admission, the recognition of that for which
he contended, the introduction in many places of boy choirs
and of congregational singing, the desire and good-will where
more tangible results are as yet lacking all this came to cheer
him and to assure him that, as regards this work for God's
glory and praise, he had not lived or labored in vain.

As has been said, Father Young had a versatile mind, and

1 9 oo.]

REV. ALFRED YOUNG, C.S.P.

263

in the days of his strength this was shown not only by the
many departments of work he undertook preacher, missionary,
director of the choir, assistant superior and administrator of
the house and Community but by a varied output of his mind
and of his pen. He wrote poetry all of it good; much of it evi-
dencing what Horace requires in a poet the possession of the
" mens divinior " ; that elevation and originality of view, that
felicitous and refined combination of thought and diction which

FATHER YOUNG AT 50 YEARS.

constitutes poetical merit. Many of his poems are to be found
in former numbers of this magazine, and all these were of a
religious nature.

Always alert to the honor and defence of God and his
church, no misrepresentation of truth, no pleas made by big-
otry or unfair religious partisanship, were allowed to pass un-
challenged by Father Young. He was indefatigable in refuting,

264 REV. ALFRED YOUNG, C.S.P. [May.

in both the secular and religious press, such attacks, and at
various times entered the lists against Dr. J. M. King, Dr. Peters,
John Jay, Clarence Cook, Hermann, and Ingersoll. His most
notable contribution in answer to the stock misrepresentations
is entitled Catholic and Protestant Countries Compared, a work
of six hundred pages, which has gone through several editions,
and not the least of its many merits is that the arguments are
marshalled from unimpeachable non-Catholic authorities.

Of Father Young's religious life and personal virtues and
traits much could be said were this the time and place to do
it. His zeal and absorption in work when in health were never
allowed to interfere with the religious exercises of prayer,
meditation, and the daily and devout celebration of the holy
mysteries. After the altar and Him who ever thereon dwells,
Father Young's devotion tended first of all to the ever Im-
maculate Virgin Mother, and to her he ever paid filial and
constant duty ; and he cherished particular affection for St*
Paul, the Patron of the Community, St. Philip Neri, St. Charles
Borromeo, and St. Aloysius. And ever and alike, in health or
in sickness, the representations of these blessed ones cheered
and sustained him.

Like the founder of the Community, Father Hecker, and
indeed like its late second Superior, Father Hewit, Father
Young was tried by a long ordeal of sickness, and towards the
end of suffering. About fifteen years ago his health was seri-
ously broken by violent hemorrhages from the stomach, and
from that time on he was subject to nervous troubles which
gradually but surely undermined strength and appetite, and
made walking or moving about a matter of great difficulty.
For about three years it was only by means of a wheel-chair
that he was able to get out for fresh air and exercise. And
as he rested in the shade of the convent building many a child,
or an old parishioner, would stop to chat with him, always sure
to hear a few kind words of thanks for their interest. It be-
came visible to him and to all that from about the first of
this year the end was near at hand. But death had no terrors
for him, as life had no longer any charm. His work was done,
and he longed to be gone. Sustained by faith and hope, after
some two weeks of lingering and acute suffering, his mind
clear and composed, he suddenly passed away on April 4,
fortified by all the rites of Holy Church.

I AM THE WAY.

BY REV. ALFRED YOUNG.

"Thou hast laid thy body as the ground, and as a way to them that passed over."
Isaias li. 23.

WHAT haste, good pilgrim ? Whither art thou bound ?

" Jerusalem, good sir, is where I long to stay."
Methinks thy way is o'er rough, thorny ground

To seek so blest an end. Art not astray?

" If there be thorns I know not. To my feet

This One True Way is from all hindrance free.
All ways to him who loves are sweet.

Farewell ! But hist ! Wilt thou not walk with me ? "

I AM THE TRUTH.

" The watchmen who keep the city found me : Have you seen Him whom my soul
loveth ? " Cant. Hi. j.

Time was I set me out lost Truth to find.
Heartsick ; foot-sore ; aweary grew my mind :
When haply oh, to pride what bitter cost !
Truth found me wandering. I, not Truth, was lost.

I AM THE LIFE.

" He shall drink of the torrent by the way ; therefore shall he lift up the head."
Ps. cix. 7.

" The water that I will give him shall become in him a fountain of water springing up
into life everlasting." St. John iv. 14.

The Disciple.

For life I am athirst : yet drink to die.
Of living water, Lord, thy servant give.
i

The Master.

If thou wouldst gain true immortality,
Stoop low and drink with Me of death ; and live !
From THE CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE, January, 1889.

265 AN ANGEL OF GOD. [May,

AN ANGEL OF GOD.

BY ART SHERMAN.

lAMON SEPULVEDA. had received orders to
watch the bridge that spanned the Whitewater
wash, three miles down the track, and that
meant an all-night absence from his cabin. It
was the first night he had been called away
from his Ignacita, and it gave him some concern for his little
daughter.

" There is no help for it, Ifttle one," he said, as he started
to leave ; " there is no one else to go, and besides it means
an extra pesa. I will give you that, carita, for your crucifix.
Go to bed and let no light burn, and none will see our little
bohio here in the chaparral. May the Blessed Mother and all
the saints watch over' you ! " And Ramon Sepulveda was out
in the night and the storm.

The bridge had been weakened by high water coming down
the wash, and no other peon could be trusted with the respon-
sibility of guarding it and warning coming trains of danger.
The roadmaster and section foreman had confidence in Ramon.
He seemed to rank above the average peons employed by the
great Southern Pacific Company on its Sunset system ; in fact
it was whispered that he had not been a peon in Mexico. Be
that as it may, his honesty, gentlemanly bearing, and unusual
willingness to work had gained for him the confidence of his
superiors, and his love and solicitude for his little daughter,
who alone shared his cabin with him, was touching in the ex-
treme.

The rain was still falling. The water in the creek had not
receded, and came down from the mountains with a steady
roar interspersed with an occasional "boom" as logs and
brushwood jostled against the piling of the bridge. Placing
one of his lights near the approach of the bridge, and seeing
that all for the present was safe, Ramon sought the shelter of
a pile of ties near the track. The first train due the Sunset
limited had been reported three hours late by the agent at
the station. Three hours would give him time for a short nap,
and Ramon was tired. Resting his head on a tie, and thrus

i QOO.] AN ANGEL OF GOD. 267

ing his feet out in defiance of the elements, he breathed an
Ave Maria and closed his eyes. ... A halo of light burst
from above him. The clouds had parted and something in white
drifted toward him. Nearer it came ; human features were re-
vealed, and he recognized the face of his dead Maria. Her
look seemed to be one of reproach and she pointed in the direc-
tion of Ramon's bohio (hut). Looking thither he saw tongues of
flame shooting up into the dark sky. His cabin was afire ! His
Ignacia would be burned alive. He rushed to save her and could
feel the fierce heat of the flames which stung, blinded, and choked
him as he groped among them, and then came the rumbling of
a train in the distance. ... He awoke. The vision was
gone. A fierce fire was burning in his breast. He was chok-
ing, gasping for breath. He tried to rise, but black forms
hovered over him and held him back. " What is the matter ?
The train! Oh, Madre Dios Ignacia Maria Dios te salve
Maria ah ! " The light came and Maria again appeared to
him. She was beckoning him from the other shore. Ramon
Sepulveda sank back, dead !

Crouching in the darkness two forms crept stealthily along
the sleepers of the trembling bridge. Slowly, slowly they came
toward the flickering red lantern that hung at the western end.
Now they stopped.

"Are you following, Miguel?"

" Ss-s, Pedro, not so loud. I am no coward.'*

"Remember, we must be quick. Our knives are keen and
our hands will not tremble. Carramba! why should we fear
such a coyote, who spies upon us and reports us when we steal
a little from the company that robs us ah-h ! He is no Mexi-
can. Death to him ! "

" Still thy tongue, Pedro. He will hear you, and he is
strong. Lead on, quick, or my heart will fail me."

On they creep, peering into the darkness beyond the signal
light; on, toward the dim light flickering against the pile of
ties.

" Asleep ! Ah, Valgame Dios ! We have him now. S-sh,
Pedro! Ramon and then Ignacita."

A gleam of steel flashing in the dim light of the lantern, a
swish and thud as two blades descend into the sleeping form
of Ramon Sepulveda. There was a short struggle, a few gasp-
ing words, and the murderers stood to view their work. Slowly
they dragged the body through the rain, up the embankment,

268 AN ANGEL OF GOD. [May,

and onto the bridge. They stood for a moment to get their
breath and look down at the torrent swirling below. A faint
rumble was heard in the distance.

"Ah, the train !"

Quickly they seized the body, carried it over the bridge,
and laid it across .the rails. Just then the moon peeped out
from a rift in the clouds, and the two men started nervously,
as their shadows were thrown athwart the track, and, crouch-
ing low, disappeared in the bushes and the blackness of night
as stealthily as they had emerged from them.

Little Ignacia fell asleep in the lonely cabin, thinking of the
beautiful crucifix she would buy with the reward of her father's
extra labor. With such a cross and the image of the blessed
Christ before her, what prayers would she not say for the repose
of the soul of her dear mother, whose body lay in a far-away
Mexican grave ! Slowly her weary lids were closed in slum-
ber. Queen Mab and her train stole softly into the little bohia
and touched the face of the child with her magic wand. . . .
Ignacia Sepulveda sat alone and trembling in the great Church
of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Over the altar real stars twinkled
in the form of a cross set in the great blue dome. From
out of the gloom the angel form of her mother came into
the light, holding aloft a shining crucifix in one hand and with
the other pointing toward the cathedral entrance. Tgnacia
tried to cry out, but her lips refused to move. In the blue
dome the vision hovered for a moment and then faded from
view behind the great starry cross. The child felt a touch on
her shoulder, and turning, saw a kindly-faced priest in cassock
beckoning her to follow. Down through the silent aisle of the
great church he leads her, and out into the night. They go
a little way on a sandy path, up a steep embankment, at
the top of which she saw a long alameda guarded on either
side by silver railings, down which a flood of golden light
issued from a great round orb at the end. The priest turned
her face in the direction of the light, gave her his blessing,
placed in her hands a crucifix, and said simply yet kindly,
" Go, child."

She started in the direction indicated, but the light at first
blinded her, and her pathway, although beautiful, was uneven
and made her walking difficult. Presently her eyes grew accus-
tomed to the light. How bright it was, and how clear every-
thing became to her vision ! Far down the way she could see

1 900.] AN ANGEL OF GOD. 269

something obstructing her pathway. Its outlines became more
and more distinct. It was the figure of a man, and soon she
could see plainly the face. " O Dios ! " she exclaims, terrified,
"it is my father ! How horrible he looks! And there is blood
in his mouth. Ah, Maria, Madre Dios! he must be dead!"

Her little feet hurried on, and though it looked a little
way, it seemed to her she would never reach the spot where
her father lay.

She heard the sound of rushing waters, and soon she came to
a river flowing swiftly by ; upon its breast a million diamonds
sparkled in the light, but there was no bridge only a gleam-
ing silver railing waving to and fro over the sparkling torrent.
She hesitated. A strange sound came from above. She looked
up and there was the same starry cross in the same blue
dome, and a voice, which seemed to whisper in her ear,
said: "Go; fear not. God is with thee." Kissing her crucifix,
she stepped on the shining line and walked lightly over to the
other side and up to the body of her father, whose cold brow
she kissed, and then, crucifix in hand, knelt by his side and
implored God, the Blessed Virgin, and the saints to restore her
father once more to his poor Ignacita.

" Three hours late ! We '11 have to make up time, Billy. Pile
on the coal and we '11 break the record from here to the
grade." And Engineer Dan gave one look along the track
ahead, sounded a warning shriek' from the whistle of the loco-
motive, and the Sunset limited shot toward the mountains with
a roar that drowned the noise of the desert storm. Swiftly it
thundered past desert stations, and on toward the summit of
the great range that walled in the gardens of the " Italy of
America."

" Say, Dan," shrieked Billy, the fireman, across the cab,
41 the semiphore is up at the Springs. Slow her down."

Seemingly angry, the great iron horse stopped before the
little station, puffing impatiently to be on its way.

" Look out for danger signals and washouts at White-
water " was the order, and the great overland went cautiously
and laboriously panting up the grade. Far down the track the
headlight revealed the rails glistening in the storm. Nearer it
came to the bridge, and yet no signals. Engineer Dan pulled
the lever and prepared for a rush. The fireman leaned out of
the cab window and peered down the track.

" Stop her, Dan, for God's sake ! " he shouted, suddenly

270 AN ANGEL OF GOD. [May,

drawing in his head. " There 's an angel or ghost, or some-
thing or other, on the track ahead."

Dan instantly reversed the engine, signalled for brakes, gave
a series of short, sharp " toots " of warning on the siren, and
then looked out. There on the track, at the approach of the
bridge, was an apparition in white bending over a dark object
stretched across the rails, all unheeding of the approaching
danger. " God save us ! " he muttered as he again signalled
" down brakes." He shut his eyes and applied himself to the
task of bringing the train to a halt. When it finally stopped
he gave vent to a long-drawn sigh. " Good Lord, Billy, have
we killed it ? " But Billy had vanished.

Within two feet of the nose of the great iron steed the
fireman saw the figure of a pretty black-haired little girl in
white night-robe kneeling beside the dead body of a man,
holding aloft a glistening crucifix. Her eyes were closed and
her lips were muttering strange words as if in prayer. He
stood transfixed as though a ghost had risen in his path. The
train hands gathered around him and for a minute no one
spoke. At last a brakeman became brave enough to break the
stillness by a faltering " Hey there!" Then Billy spoke:

" Blamed if she ain't asleep or in a trance. Gee, but that
was a close shave! But how in Moses did she get here? Lis-
ten, boys ; what 's she sayin' ? "

Sweetly and distinctly came the words :

" Dies te salve Maria, lleiia eres de gratia, el Senor es
contigo"

The conductor stepped forward and touched the girl lightly
on the shoulder. The child awoke with a start, rubbing her
eyes and gazing wildly about as one awakened from unpleas-
ant dreams. Then seeing the silent form at her feet she gave
vent to heartrending screams and words which the astonished
crew could not understand.

" Mi padre /" she cried, pointing to the prostrate form at
her feet, and she could not be led away.

" Harry, run back to the sleeper and wake up that Catholic
priest. He understands Spanish, and we '11 have to find out
what this means," said the conductor to the porter, who had
just arrived on the scene; and to the brakeman he continued:
11 J oe > g U P an d look at the bridge. This fellow was a sec-
tion hand. Something 's wrong."

The bridge was gone. Only the rails were strung bent,
across the arroyo. A green light, or show signal, shone dimly

1900.] AN ANGEL OF GOD. 271

from the other end, and the red lantern was found, with light
extinguished, not far from the body of Ramon Sepulveda.

Father John soothed the little Ignacia and led her into
the warm car, where a number of passengers, curious to know
what had happened, had gathered, and coaxed from her the
story of her dream. He told it to the passengers, reminding
them that it was God who sent this angel to deliver them from
the death that would have resulted had the train gone through
the broken bridge. The little child in her sleep had walked
three miles up the road, and evidently crossed the river on
one of the rails that alone spanned the torrent which swept
b.elow. How she came by the crucifix was not clear, although
Ignacia declared that it was sent by her mother in heaven and
handed to her by the priest in the cathedral.

" The child is an orphan," said Father John, " and I will
see that she is provided with a home."

Some one slipped through the crowd and whispered to each
of the passengers. Some time after he returned and poured a
hatful of money into the hands of the astonished priest. " This
is for the little Mexican girl," said the man, who left without
waiting to be thanked.

As the train went over the repaired bridge the next day
the trainmen and passengers saw a heap of charred embers
three miles down the track, where once stood the cabin of
Ramon Sepulveda.

"Truly," mused Father John, " God sent an angel to save
us last night. Deo gratias ! "

FATHER SHEEHAN'S ability has been recognized
as a writer of fiction in the class of subjects which
has become a sort of study in our time, namely,
the social side of religion, or the relations of the
clergy to social life in general and to the ques-
tioning and the troubled elements of it in particular. What
Trollope and George Eliot have done for the Protestantism of
the Establishment and the Protestantism of Dissent Father
Sheehan aims at effecting for the Catholic clergy. Naturally
enough, Ireland is the part of the United Kingdom selected for
his pictures of clerical life ; but unless for some circumstances
of a casual or accidental character some drawing out of influ-
ences which come under the head of setting the scenes could
have been laid in England or, for that matter, in Utopia as
well. On the surface this may read as severe criticism, but in
it there is a very clear suggestion that we have found reality
of character in the author's performance the reality of life for
good or ill. We could say no more in praise of Le Sage, of
Smollett, of Fielding, who are incomparably above all writers
of social fiction. The masterpiece of Cervantes is not a novel
of life in the sense in which we speak of the productions of
the three men just named. In its own way it is supreme ; it
is like every work of genius, universal and undying in interest,
even though the matter which suggested it was only a tem-
porary mischief ; we say this because critics of established
reputation mention the author of Don Quixote with Le Sage,
Smollett, and Fielding. They might as well bracket Taylor
with Shakspere because he wrote an historical play in an his-
torical spirit, or Goldsmith with Shakspere because the former's
comedy is so exquisitely benevolent and there is so much
benevolence in the comedy of Shakspere. At the same time it
is not quite to be supposed that there is a single character
draWn by , Father Sheehan which approaches in fidelity to
nature the least finished of the creations of Le Sage or of the

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 273

other two. For instance, the aged parish priest of the New
Curate* is in every one of four hundred and eighty pages, yet
we know less about him than of the Archbishop of Granada
who lives, moves, and has his being in half a dozen sentences
of Gil Bias.

It is not in the creative power that Father Sheehan's
strength lies. He is deficient in that shaping spirit of imagina-
tion which peoples the pages of the great artists who with
words do almost all that great painters perform with colors ;
but he has a power which has a fascination all its own, like the
matchless simplicity which has made the Vicar of Wakefield
immortal, like the moral elevation which penetrates the humor
and irony of Cervantes. No man can rise from the reading of
My New Curate without the consciousness that there is a side
of life higher and purer than fortune, fame, than the march of
armies, the councils of statesmen, the achievements of human
science. There is in this writer an intensity of conviction
which works upon the mind like the inspiration of genius, and
yet that conviction is as far removed from unreasoning preju-
dice or disordered passion as the conceptions and inferences of
the intellect lifted to a region above the fever and the fret of
life There is a greatness about Bitra that reminds one of
Clotilde ; there is, despite its dangerous approach to sensa-
tionalism, a sustained force in the working out of the trans-
formation of Alice which brings home to one in rare appre-
ciation the might by which the weak things of this world have
overcome the strong. The poor vain girl of the village, whose
beauty was turned to loathsomeness by disease, obtains an inner
beauty which so glorifies the outer unloveliness that when you
approach her you take the shoes from your feet, pride is hum-
bled in the dust, science is the babbling of fools, earth and
the spheres reaching into the infinite are nothing, the silence of
eternity is broken only by God speaking to the soul.

And amid the thoughts suggested by the spiritual beauty of
these two, a beauty each of its own kind and adapted to the
duty given to each, we have the ordinary action of character
in its folly or wisdom, its perverseness or conscientiousness, as
such influences display themselves on that stage of fools called
life, as Jacques might say ; and these shadows are pleasant illu-
sions to the eye and ear amid the sweet and solemn realities
of holiness. The benevolent and whimsical character of the
old priest with his Cui bono ? a mere cynicism thinly veiling

* My New Curate. By the Rev. P. A. Sheehan, P.P. Boston : Marlier, Callanan & Co.
VOL. LXXI. 1 8

274 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May,

the latent enthusiasm of his nature is in fine contrast, though
we fear conscious contrast, to the reforming fire and energy of
his young coadjutor. Mrs. Darcy, that despot in the church
despite St. Paul, giving way after passions of tears and the
bitterness of humiliation to the young priest's force of charac-
ter, and accepting the status of a constitutional sovereign, is
rich in the best elements of humor. Her ribbons at the mar-
riage of Bitra are in their own way as welcome and delightful
as Moses* topknot, and we can readily understand that poor
Daddy Dan could not proceed with the ceremony until she
was sent to the sacristy. Jem Deady is a countryman of those
watchmen of one or two ancient municipalities who until very
recently steeped themselves in whisky before entering on their
hours, and spent the hours asleep in their sentry boxes ; but
the benevolence of Father Sheehan, so like that characteristic
of the sages of fiction which does not allow their teachings to
be spoiled by the pursuit of a vicious realism, compels him to
reform this amusing drunkard. Indeed, Jem needed the change,
for like greater men his drollery was hung up with his hat
when he returned home to the partner of his affections.

There are some scenes which, we think, belong to an Ire-
land which has vanished, and some to one that never existed.
The sordid poverty, the filth, the wretchedness, so unrelieved
by anything calculated to excite pity, were to be found, no
doubt, in some aspect such as he has depicted, from the time
of Swift until the early fifties ; we are not at all sure that any-
thing so base in its utter indifference to the present and the
future as is suggested in his book prevailed at any time. It is
quite true that from 1729 certainly, if not earlier, until 1850
there was a large part of the population not - merely on the
boundary line of famine, but breathing the breath of it in the
interval between the spring and the ripening of the harvest.
This part of the people used to fasten their cabin doors when
their little crops were sown or when no employment was to be
had, and set forth to beg along the highways until the autumn.
It was a dreadful necessity ; but in it there was nothing of
the stolid, brutal laziness described in the village life of this
book. The necessity of this strange exodus was the death of
self-respect, no doubt, and it was too strong for laws against
mendicancy, framed though they were with that pitiless accu-
racy for which the enactments of the Irish Parliament are
famous. But those melancholy processions of ragged men,
women, and children begging with their eyes for the charity

i goo.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 275

they dared not always ask, could not have been " supporting "
the walls of their huts and merely changing from one shoulder
to the other to gaze at a passer-by. Why, on their return
there was nothing short of compulsory labor for the landlord
" the master," as he was called ; for the agent and his assis-
tant, for each clerk in " the office," for each bailiff on the lands,
for the functionary known as the rent-warner, if he happened
not to be a bailiff, for the game-keepers, for every hanger-
on, whose good word or bad one meant everything. After
this they should save their own turf and crops, but through
this consumption of time there was no space for idleness.
George Berkeley in the middle of the eighteenth cen-
tury wrote of conditions in that class which lasted long after
the close of his own honorable and unappreciated life condi-
tions that were to be found in the middle of the nineteenth
century. But of all the writers who repeated or followed him,
as well as those who preceded him, there is not one who gives
the notion of laziness as a national vice, but all speak of their
poverty.

There is another thing we have to point out : if Campion is
to be taken as a type of the Catholic gentleman, the author
has drawn upon his imagination. He has selected the county
of Galway as the locus in quo of this specimen of the class,
and it would appear that Campion is the only Catholic gentle-
man in the region. As a matter of fact, there is not a Prot-
estant of good family in that county, from the Marquess of
Clanricarde (the Jew of the Albany) down to the pettiest squire,
who has not Catholic relatives. As an incidental proof that
piety may be found among Catholic gentlemen of Galway, we
beg to mention that the Jesuit, Father Bellew, was a baronet
Sir Christopher Bellew, one of the most considerable land-
owners in the county ; and we think the loyalty with which
that class rejected the Queen's College, Galway, bears some
testimony to their practical religion. The very large number
of Catholics of rank and fashion in that county alone would
have conferred success upon that institution. Instead, it is a
disastrous failure.

For the rest, we must say that the finish of the style and
the varied knowledge evident in every page of this interesting
book are not unworthy of the most learned clerical body in
the world.

The touch of the master-hand and the wise, illuminated

276 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May,

judgment of the saint are plainly visible in even this small
handful* of the writings of that benignant guide of the devout
soul, St. Francis de Sales, translated and gathered into a neat
little volume by a Visitandine of Baltimore.

Father Cochem has prepared a meditation f on each one of
those four last great events to the Christian soul, which, while
full of the profound seriousness that each of these subjects de-
mands, is nevertheless tempered with a spirit of moderation
and reserve which has kept him gently within the limits too
often exceeded by writers of meditations on these vital points.

Father Ryan's exquisite thought, that

" Hearts that are great beat never loud,

They muffle their music, when they come ;
They hurry away from the thronging crowd
With bended brows' and lips half dumb,"

is irresistibly suggested by the mere mention of the name of that
sweet, unobtrusive convert and gentle woman Sara Trainer
Smith, whose departed presence has left a memory in the
heart of her friends that will cling to their lives as one of
those influences that are wedded to immortality. Out of the
tenderness and reverence for this dear memory have Miss
Smith's faithful friends done her the graceful little honor that
this book \ of finely written stories represents.

" When great hearts have passed away,
Men gather in awe and kiss their shroud,
And in love they kneel around their clay."

They need but little other commendation than her own name
signed to them gives, but one cannot help thinking there was
a vast treasure-house shut away within that reticent spirit of
Sara Trainer Smith's which no word she ever wrote or said
even half revealed.

" Hearts that are greatest are always lone,

They never will manifest their best ;
Their greatest greatness is unknown :
Earth knows a little God, the rest."

* Meditations for Retreats taken from the Writings of St. Francis de Sales. Arranged
by St. Jane Frances de Chantal. New York : Benziger Brothers.

t The Four Last Things. By Father Martin von Cocherc, O.S.F.C. New York:
Benziger Brothers.

\ The Room of the Rose> and other Stories. By Sara Trainer Smith. Philadelphia
John J. McVey.

IQOO.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 277

What to do with the boys ? How to reach the boys of our
parish ? These questions are asking themselves over and over
in the minds of every devoted priest and of those laity who
are taking some concern for the social and spiritual welfare of
that element in our parishes, especially in the large cities, who
have not the refinements and culture of the well-to-do home.
Rev. George E. Quin, S.J., of St. Joseph's Church, Troy, N. Y.,
is one of those earnest spirits who not only has recognized the
tremendous possibilities of the boyhood of America for good
and for evil, but has met the issue fairly and squarely by at-
tempting a solution of this great problem. Realizing that it is
one of the functions of the church to meet it in a face-to-face
encounter, and to safeguard our boys so that they may grow
up to be good citizens and good Catholics, he has for many years
labored among the boys of his parish. He has written his ex-
periences to be published in book form, the first of the Boy
Savers' Series* as it is to be called, having already appeared
under the title " Organizers and their First Steps," from the
press of the Sacred Heart Library. We unhesitatingly recom-
mend the book to every parish priest, to all Sunday-school
workers, and to all who may be interested in any work for the
salvation of our boys. Father Quin has met the difficulties of
this work in exceedingly practical ways and with deeply con-
secrated efforts, and to our mind his book presents a very
successful solution of the problem. We await with interest
the remainder of the series, soon to be issued.

I. TWO POETIC POINTS OF VIEW, f

Two eminently different attitudes at Poetry's lyre are as-
sumed by Arthur Upson and Henry N. Dodge, in their re-
spective volumes, At the Sign of the Harp and Christus Victor.

The pleasure of simultaneously considering them rests not
altogether upon this contrast of view-point, but also upon the
fact that their diverse character illustrates contemporary poetry
as manifested in two distinctive spirits ; Mr. Upson represents
the first of these a spirit modest and self-deprecatory, found
in Dobson and others of his type, who seem to think the

* The Boy Savers' Series. Booklet the First : Organizers and Their First Steps. By
Rev. George E. Quin, SJ. New York : Sacred Heart Library.

t At the Sign of the Harp. By Arthur Upson. With two drawings by Ada Hillman.
Minneapolis, Minn.: The University Press. Christus Victor: A Student's Reverie. By
Henry Nehemiah Dodge. New York and London : G. P. Putnam's Sons.

278 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May,

laurelled heads have already filled the coffers of song well-nigh
full of perfect gems, and who therefore feel it not worth their
while to delve for rare jewels, contented to drop in bits of
colored glass simple lyrics and nothing more ; the other spirit
Mr. Dodge illustrates the combination of the serious, philo-
sophical mood of the times with the old enthusiasm for lofty
themes ; the ambition for that " large utterance of the gods,"
the organ-toned expression of the epic, which must not die if
poetry is not to grow decadent, drifting into mere sweet
humming.

Mr. Upson's foreword is explanatory of this first attitude :
" The gentle reader shall labor under no misapprehension : the
verse in this book disclaims the lofty title and rank of poesy " ;
and again in " The Od Song " :

" I have not longed for place or power,
For I seem to have waited to hear the call."

Mr. Dodge voices the more confident, pretentious spirit, in-
voking the celestial muse in tones suggestive of Milton and
the old masters :

" Come, Holy Spirit, touch my heart with fire ;
Set free my stammering tongue and tune my lyre,
That I to my high theme new powers may bring,
The triumph of Almighty Love to sing."

One cannot help wishing there might have been a division
of the poetic gifts and creeds of these two poets. In such

lines as

" Wild as some lost melody

In under-rhythms of the sea,"

and in all the beautiful stanzas of " The Old Cathedral," which
first appeared in the pages of this magazine, Mr. Upson reveals
a power of subtle insight into the heart of things and of cor-
rect expression, that makes one regret he has not tuned his
harp to greater and more varied themes, to some of the deeper
human emotions within poetry's province. While' Mr. Dodge's
charmingly lyrical touches frequently make one wish he had
replaced some of his more didactic lines with such as these :

" I sought a lake among the peaceful hills,
Where fairy fleets of water-lilies grow ;
Each argosy rich golden treasure fills,
Around them perfume-laden breezes blow."

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 279

The work of the two men is so diverse, comparison of them
would be invidious and infeasible.

The artist touch of simple suggestion, which is satisfied to
hint but never tells too much, is one of Mr. Upson's happiest
faculties especially attractively employed in " The Soul of
Basil " and in these lines from " The Lost Brother " :

*' Were^he to come to-night,
Brother : brother,
Heart warm to heart warm,
Forgiving each other:

" Were he to follow
The Light I am placing,
Up through the darkness
My wood path tracing. . . .

" Dead is the rain-song,
Silent remaining,

Only a lonely soul
Keeps on complaining."

What a contrast this to the old-fashioned poetic story-
telling in linked sing-song " long drawn out " !

It is impossible to do full justice to the delightful, original
fancy of his little poem " Dust o' Books " without quoting some
of its charming lines :

" Slantwise one long star-beam finds
Access through the jealous blinds,
Gingerly lance at rest
On the Poet loved the best ;
Feeling softly down the shelves
Where my books reveal themselves,
And, beneath its trembling glow,
Faint like blooms, like plum-mist show
Dust o' Books, I love you so."

In the days when poetry is tainted with a gentle epicurean
philosophy or a languid, and indeed sometimes anguished pessim-
ism, it is a genuine pleasure to read Mr. Dodge's book, which is
essentially a psean of optimism, a Hymn of Praise to Almighty
Love. And better than this, at a time when blatant ignorance
and godless theories are battering at the strongholds of faith
with denials of the divinity of the God-Man, this Christus Victor,
though fraught with no theological arguments, insists on the
Triumph of the Cross, lifting the Divine Form from beneath

280 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May,

the sacrilegious trampling and holding it once more aloft, be-
fore the Apostles of Poetic Art. If one might not seem to
speak paradoxically, one of Mr. Dodge's faults is too much
optimism, which has led him to throw doubts on the doctrine of
hell. In his overwhelming desire to proclaim the ultimate
everlasting beatitude beneath the reign of Almighty Love, he
has missed the fact that the gift of free will, the individual's
absolute privilege of choice between good and evil, is a greater,
more godly dispensation than the gift of inherent constraint-to-
good could have been. The church's teaching of the doctrine
of hell is not the outgrowth of " priestly craft and tyranny," it
makes not for the " enthroning of Terror," but for the deifica-
tion of Omnipotent Justice ; it is the doctrine which makes the
Christian Heaven supreme above the pagan Nirvanas, " where
all things shall have rest."

In his dedication Mr. Dodge gives an earnest of his lofty
purpose, his glorious predilection for mighty themes, the dedi-
cation being to none other than the World-Saviour :

" If in this casket Thou shouldst find
Aught to adorn Thy way or help mankind,
Though not frankincense, myrrh, or gold
Tribute of star-led caravans of old
Take it, O Heart of Love Divine ! .
And use it as Thou wilt, for it is Thine."

And on this great keynote Mr. Dodge builds up all his har-
monies; the book is a series of philosophical fragments, prin-
cipally reflective in nature, rarely speculative ; its gamut in-
cludes immortality, birth, death, and the universal brotherhood
of man. This latter theme elicits many eloquent lines :

" What man soe'er I chance to see
Amazing thought is kin to me ;
And if a man, my brother !

" What though of strange and alien race,
Of unfamiliar form and face,
He is a man, my brother."

This universal brotherhood in Mr. Dodge's hands stretches
out infinitely, on one side even to Christ

" The spotless Son of God,
The Perfect Man, our pathways trod
To show himself our Brother ";

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 281

on the other side it reaches down into the very embryos of
organic life :

" Dumb creatures' eyes,
That often look so wistfully at me,
I, wondering, may hereafter see
Beneath celestial skies."

This theme seems to have taken absolute possession of Mr.
Dodge, and in expressing it his poetry rises to some of its
greatest heights.

The fault of Mr. Dodge's technique is a slight one, requir-
ing only the final touch of the chisel, the last polish some-
times in a word not essentially poetic enough to justify its
being employed, sometimes in a word or line too much worn
by long usage in poetic diction to glisten brightly enough in
new stanzas. For instance, in one of the beautiful, rhythmical
lyrics Mr. Dodge intersperses among his more serious stanzas
this little blemish occurs, which one sees with a little regret at
the end of so much pure poetic beauty :

" The moonbeams on the sea
A flood of glory came to me ;

From the fair moon to me

Where'er I turned, the same !

This last line's music and combination of words seems a
little too hackneyed to be strung on the same thread with the
pearls immediately preceding it.

Throughout the whole volume Mr. Dodge stoops to no
puerility of thought ; even to the end the theme is treated in
a way to justify the anticipation the " Prelude " raised. One
apt critic has already said " it breathes the spirit of the Ober
Ammergau Passion Play and Ary Scheffer's " Christus Conso-
lator"; indeed, as one reads the poem's noble closing lines
one feels the Christ-hands over him so wonderfully depicted :

" Then shall the mighty outspread arms of Love,
Down-reaching from our Father's home above,
Embrace a universe redeemed from sin
And gather all His long-lost children in."

282 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [May,

2. THE CATHOLIC DIRECTORY, IQOO.*

To one who is interested in the study of the various
churches in this country there is no more interesting book than
the Year Book of the Catholic Church.

It is becoming recognized by every one that if there is any
very notable progress in church life it is among the Catholics.
While we cannot contemplate the break-up of Protestantism
among a large class of the people of this country without
some alarm, still at the same time it is natural that we exult
over the wonderful increase of Catholicism.

But while the published statistics are the best attainable, it
is evident to one who has made a yearly study of the figures
presented that they cannot lay claim to absolute accuracy.

The Catholic population presented this year is 10,129,677
souls as against 9,907,412 of last year. We do not think that
10,129,677 by any means represents the aggregate Catholic
population of the United States ; 13,000,000 would be nearer
the correct figure. We base this statement on (i) the fact
that there is a general tendency on the part of every pastor
to understate the number of souls in his parish, and there are
nearly 10,000 priests in the country who have pastoral charge ;
(2) the same tendency exists in every chancery office, and it
is from the chancery offices that the figures come. So strong
are these tendencies that in the aggregate the results are minim-
ized, not by hundreds but by thousands.

There are a number of surprising facts revealed by the
Year Book of 1900. New York regains the leading place in
the number of children attending parochial schools last year
Chicago led. New York added 79 to its clergy list, Boston 46,
and St. Louis 30. Chicago adds 40,000 to its population, but
none to the number of its clergy, and it has just exactly the
same number of children attending parochial schools this year
as last. It is evident in some instances no new report for
1900 has been received and published. However the Directory
is most admirable in the remarkable care that has been taken
to get at the real statistics, as well as the painstaking labor
expended in sorting out and classifying the returns so that the
best possible presentation could be made.

The missionary movement has made such progress during
the past few years that we hop'e that the publishers in their
next year book will make some record of it by securing from
the chancery offices the returns of converts received and con
firmed.

* The Catholic Directory (official}, igoo. Milwaukee, Wis.: M. H. Wiltzius & Co.

IQOO.] EDITORIAL NOTES. 283

EDITORIAL NOTES.

THE American authorities have already made some fatal
mistakes in the administration of the newly acquired posses-
sions ; and what is more lamentable, they are placing themselves
in the way of making still greater blunders.

No political party can touch the delicate nerve that stimu-
lates a Catholic's Love for and devotion to his Church and not
expect that there will be an outcry. The public sentiment of
the Catholic body is well restrained. A Catholic is trained to
submit to many things. He is generally not of the number
that runs to the public press with every little querulous com-
plaint. He keeps his own counsel. But like the gathering of the
waters against the restraining dam, when the break-away comes
it comes with terrific force and sweeps everything before it.

The non-Catholic religious journals are, with more and more
boldness of assertion, openly advocating the sequestration of
the property now held by the Friars. It is known that the
Treaty of Paris protects all ecclesiastical holdings in the rights
that they are possessed of. But in spite of this fact the ad-
ministration is urged to confiscate, on the plea that the Friars
used their influence over a simple people in order to chouse
them out of their money and their lands. We would not be
surprised at all that in a weak moment the administration
would yield to this pressure. If it does, however, the Ameri-
can Catholic people must be reckoned with.

The latest instance that has come to our knowledge, and we
have it on unimpeachable authority, is the laying of a profane
hand on the church in her right to bless the marriage contract.
This time it is in Cuba. On May 31, 1899, General John R.
Brooke, U. S. A., then exercising the office of military governor
of Cuba, directed the publication of an order purporting to be
a new marriage law for the Island of Cuba. The first para-
graph of the act is as follows : " Hereafter Civil marriages only
shall be legally valid." There is no authority within the
borders of the United States that would dare enact a law that
would take from the minister of religion his right to witness a
marriage. Yet such a thing has been done in the name of the
United States and under the authority of the American flag.
We hope the administration will see its way to repeal this
odious law as soon as possible.

284 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [May,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

IT is now definitely announced that the Catholic College for Women at Wash-
ington, D. C., will be opened next October, and that the estimated expense
for each student will be about four hundred dollars. To assist this good work
an organization of ladies, residing in Washington and elsewhere, has been
formed. Circulars are to be'had on application, showing how the auxiliary
board, representing the lay workers, can awaken interest and gather funds. It
is to be hoped that many ot the members of Catholic Reading Circles may be
counted among the future graduates of Trinity College. For their guidance an
outline of the entrance examination is here given :

Latin (Classical). Grammar, including Prosody (Gildersleeve) ; Prose
Composition (Jones) ; Selections from Cassar's Gallic War (Greenough, D'Ooge,
and Daniell) ; Cicero, six orations; Virgil, ^Eneid, six books; Supplementary
Latin (from Notre Dame Students) ; Sight Translation : translation into Latin
of continuous narrative.

Greek. Grammar (Goodwin), with White's Beginner's Book and Jones's
Prose Composition entire; Xenophon, Anabasis, four books; Homer, Iliad,
three books: Supplementary Greek (from Notre Dame Students); Translation,
at sight, of Attic and Homeric Greek : translation into Greek of passages of
connected narrative.

French. Grammar, complete course (Chardenal, preceded by Bue's course);
Prose Composition, entire (Blouet) and Chardenal's Advanced Exercises ; Let-
ter-Writing and Social Forms; Reading (a) Works of Hector Malot, Mile.
Salanges, (b) Lamartine's Meditations, (c) Esther, Racine, Horace, and Le Cid,
Corneille, Le Misanthrope, Moliere ; Contemporary Writers (see Year Book) ;
Ability to follow conversation conducted in French ; Ability to repeat selections
from French prose and verse.

German. Grammar (Joynes-Meissner) ; German Prose Composition (Har-
ris) ; German Conversation (Meissner) ; Ability to understand spoken German ;
Ability to recite from German dramas and lyrics ; Reading : Storm Riehl,
Schiller, Goethe, Lessing; Critical study of Nineteenth Century Authors.

English. The candidate must present exercises in English equivalent to
Scott and Denney's Composition Rhetoric. She will be required to write a
short composition to test spelling and punctuation and facility in writing
English.

In 1900-1902 students must be familiar with House of Seven Gables, by
Hawthorne; Southwell's Burning Babe; Scott's Ivanhoe ; the Sir Roger de
Coverley Papers; Ruskin's Sesame and Lilies; De Quincey's Flight of a Tartar
Tribe; Newman's Historical Essays; Shelley's The Skylark and The Cloud;
Keats's Ode to a Nightingale; Milton's Paradise Lost, Books I. II.; Tennyson's
Princess and Idylls of the King; Pope's Iliad, and Chaucer's Canterbury Tales.

An examination upon the subject-matter, form, and structure will be
required on the following: Shakspere's Julius Caesar, Hamlet, Macbeth;
Chaucer's Knight's Tale; Milton's Lycidas, and Hymn to the Nativity ; Gray's
Elegy; Newman's Dream of Gerontius; Dryden's Ode to St. Cecilia; Cole-
ridge's Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

1900.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 285

Mathematics. Arithmetic, Algebra, Plane Geometry (Wentworth).

History. Greek and Roman (Vuibert) ; United States.

Science (required). Physics (Gage's text-book and Laboratory Manual).

* * *

Besides providing for the personal advantages to the members, every Read-
ing Circle should be willing to co-operate for the spread of the movement. This
can be done in no better way than by the publication of an annual report giving
in detail an account of the lectures delivered, books discussed, and especially the
facilities for assisting the circulation of the best books in public libraries.
Many have not yet written to obtain the new list of standard books prepared by
the Columbian Reading Union, which may be secured by sending a two-cent
stamp addressed to 415 West Fifty-ninth Street, New York City.

We are pleased to have the following report from Miss E. A. Reilly, presi-
dent of the St. Cecilia Reading Circle, Germantown, Pa., Church of St. Vincent
de Paul:

Another year has passed since our friends last met here to show their appre-
ciation of our efforts, and to greet us with kind wishes for success in the special
work in which we are engaged. Like those which have preceded it, this eighth
year of the Circle's work has been most satisfactory and cannot fail to be pro-
ductive of the best results. Oar study this year, though not embracing so great
a variety of subjects nor extending over so wide a range in the literary field as
that of some of the former years, has been more interesting and more thorough,
made so by the fact that our director, notwithstanding his numerous and burden-
some duties as pastor, has, as far as possible, given us his personal supervision
md guidance in the studies of each evening.

We began our year's work in September of last year with twenty-five
icmbers assembled ready and eager to refresh themselves with draughts,
shallow or deep as suited individual taste, at the fountain of knowledge. During
the year eight young ladies joined the Circle, and we close with a membership
of thirty-three. The exercises of each evening commence with the roll-call,
answered by quotations from Thomas a Kempis generally, but occasionally
from some poet or from the writings of some saint. Music and singing form
part of the programme, and an essay and a recitation from such of the members
as have been asked to prepare them.

The rules of the Circle require that each member shall prepare an essay
rhen called upon, and no member is exempt from this duty. In order to keep
abreast of the times, a discussion of current events forms part of the evening's
work, and those whose duty it is to do so tell us of what is happening in the
literary, political, social, and scientific worlds. Questions asked at a previous
meeting are answered and discussed.

Our first literary work on reassembling was the completion of Tasso's great
work, Jerusalem Delivered, which had been continued from the previous year.
We next took up the Idylls of the King and finished The Coming of Arthur,
Geraint and Enid, Merlin and Vivien. Leaving the Idylls of the King, we
finished the year by a critical study of Evangeline, which was done in such a
way as to develop thought and the correct expression of it. The essays written
by the different members of the Circle during the year were deserving of high
praise for the amount of literary ability and research displayed in their prepara-
tion. Among those deserving special mention were the History of Literature
by Miss Mary Malone, in which the different phases of its development and

286 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [May,

effects were exceedingly well handled. The Samoan difficulty gave occasion for
the preparation of another, the subject being carefully looked up and the result
of the investigation given to us by Miss Elizabeth Rollings.

Among a number of the Circle's members who have made a specialty of
"the study of music in its higher forms is Miss Kathryn Keenan, who gave us a
most enjoyable essay on Handel, telling us of his life and works and the times in
which he lived. In the line of biography the Circle was favored also by Miss
Mary Skelly, who contributed a paper on Mrs. Mallon, known to readers under
the names of Ruth Ashmore and Bab, in which her life and the characteristics
of her writings were very cleverly depicted.

An able essay which appealed to the aesthetic sense entitled Imagination
was written by Miss Sara McCafferty. Other essays on different subjects were
presented during the year. Several members also contributed to the general
pleasure by original poems. Among these were The Eve of St. Cecilia's First
Communion, by Miss Sara Curran, The Model, and Mother's Boy, by Miss
Mary Doan. The efforts of these ladies showed a talent in that field of no mean
order.

During the year we had the pleasure of a visit from our first director, Father
McHale, who favored us with an account of his visit to Porto Rico, and of the
conditions of life which he found prevailing in that island. Besides serving as
a means of acquiring knowledge and developing talent, the Circle brings to-
gether socially the young people of the parish whose tastes and inclinations lie
in the same direction. From many points of view this last is not one of the least
of the advantages resulting from membership in the St. Cecilia Reading Circle.

The descriptive account of Dante's great poem by Professor Hogan, of St.
Patrick's College, Maynooth, will be welcomed by those who want to have a
practical acquaintance with one of the greatest productions of the middle ages,
and yet have not time or ability to study the poem itself without such a guide.
To the one who is able to study it in the original Italian there are thousands
who must depend on one or more of the many translations of it. Dr. Hogan
constitutes himself a guide especially for those outside of purely professional
literary circles who want to get a proper and authoritative estimate of Dante's
great work in its historical, religious, and literary aspects without having to
wade through a whole library of books. After stopping to take a brief but clear
view of Dante himself, Dr. Hogan brings his readers from canto to canto,
through Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise, making clear what is in the least ob-
scure, giving historical explanations all along, chiding Dante where he is too
hard on his enemies, quoting from recognized authorities wherever they dis-
agree with Dante's strictures on certain persons. On the whole the book is a
clear, pleasing, and safe exposition of the Divina Commedia. Dante's minor
works, especially his Vita Nuova, are also sketched briefly but appreciatively,
as only a finished scholar and Catholic priest can treat them. Then Dante
himself, his relations to the church, and his unique place in literature, are well
portrayed in a separate chapter. His commentators also, of whom there have
been a great number, more or less worthy, from Dante's own son, Jacopo, in
1213, down to Lord Vernon, in our own day, are mentioned with approval or
disapproval, as the case may be, and the reasons given, so that Dr. Hogan's
readers may know who Dante's friends are and who his enemies, and not be
taken unawares by either when he meets them in libraries later on. The whole

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 287

is very properly finished by that most necessary adjunct to any work in which
many persons and places and things are mentioned a good index.

Messrs. Longmans, Green & Co., the publishers, have given the work type
and paper and binding worthy of the great subject, leaving nothing to be de-
sired. It is impossible to exaggerate the value of such a book. The most ap-
preciative reader of this Dante Condensed, as it might be called, can never
Know the enormous amount of reading and comparing that Dr. Hogan had to
do. He seems to have read everything and become familiar with everything
written on Dante and to give his readers the essence of it all in this one volume.

Patrons of the Columbian Reading Union may obtain a special discount by
sending for an order blank with a stamped envelope enclosed. All communica-
tions should be addressed to 415 West Fifty-ninth Street, New York City.

At Cliff Haven, N. Y., near Pittsburgh, the Champlain Summer-School
will begin its ninth session the first week of July and continue until the end of
August. During nine weeks, amid the cool breezes from the Adirondack Moun-
tains, some of the ablest representatives of Catholic institutions of learning will
discuss important subjects. By the charter from the Regents of New York
State these courses of lectures are recognized in the department of University
Extension. Invitations from the Board of Studies in charge of the programme
have been accepted by George Melville Boiling, Ph.D., and Charles P. Neill,
Ph.D., of the Catholic University at Washington, D. C. Those in attendance
at former sessions will be pleased to extend a hearty welcome to Dr. James J.
Walsh, of the University of Pennsylvania, and Henry Austin Adams, A.M. A
number of leading questions of philosophy are assigned to the Rev. James A.
Doonan, S.J., of St. Joseph's College, Philadelphia ; the Rev. Thomas I. Gasson,
S.J., of Boston College, and the Rev. John T. Driscoll, S.T.L., author of two
recent volumes bearing on theism and the human soul. In addition to the
names already mentioned arrangements are under way for a number of lectures
by the Rev. William Livingston, of Newburgh, N. Y.; Very Rev. M. W.
Holland, V.F., of Port Henry, N.Y.; Rev. James H. Driscoll, D.D., Rouse's
Point, and Rev. John P. Chidwick, U.S.N.

Under the direction of the Rev. D. J. McMahon, D.D., special studies
covering a period of six weeks have been planned dealing with Shaksperian
iterature. These studies will be conducted, according to the plan of Round
Table Talks, by Dr. James J. Walsh ; Alexis I. du PontColeman, B.A. (Oxford),
and the Very Rev. Hubert Farrell, V.F., of Westbury, N. Y. According to the
same plan the Divina Commedia of Dante will be discussed: the Inferno by
the Rev. D. J. Mahoney, D.D., of New York City ; the Purgatorio by the Right
Rev. Monsignor Loughlin, D.D., Chancellor of Philadelphia ; the Paradiso by
the Rev. Joseph F. Delaney, D.D., of New York City. Instruction in the Latin
anguage and literature will be given by the Rev. D. J. Mahoney, D.D., and the
Rev. John D. Roach.

Professor William L. Tomlins, who was choral director of the World's
Columbian Exposition, has been engaged for a training course in singing
adapted to the needs of teachers, amateur organists, and parents who are seek-
ing for the best methods of developing vocal music, especially among children.
A course of illustrated lectures on art will be given by Miss Anna Seaton
Schmidt, of Washington, D. C. The Hon. John J. Fitzgerald, of Brooklyn, will
present a summary of the recent debate in Congress on the Indian Question.

288 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [May, 1900.]

A programme for recreation is to be arranged for every afternoon, Sun-
days excepted, under the personal supervision of Mr. James E. Sullivan, secre-
tary of the A. A. U. and president of the Knickerbocker and New Jersey Athletic
Clubs. The college camp and tents are under the care of the Rev. John Talbot
Smith, LL.D.

At a later date an account of the lecturers and subjects will be more fully
set forth in a circular by the Rev. Thomas McMillan, C.S. P., Chairman of the
Board of Studies. Copies of this circular may be obtained on application to
the New York Office, 123 East 5oth Street, or from Mr. Warren E. Mosher,
Youngstown, Ohio.

* * *

The programme for the session of the Columbian Catholic Summer-School,
at Detroit, Mich., from July 10 to August i, has been practically completed.

Cardinal Gibbons will visit the school, as will also a number of bishops
and archbishops.

The lecturers thus far engaged are as follows: Rev. T. E. Shields, Ph.D.,
the well-known psychologist, will give three lectures on Psychology. Dr.
Thomas O'Hagan, of Canada, will give three lectures on the following subjects:
Alfred Tennyson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and French Canadian
Life and Literature. Hon. Joseph Donnelly, the author of Jesus Delaney, will
deliver one lecture on Mexico. Rev. H. M. Calmar, S.J., will give a
course of three lectures, as well as the eminent convert, Rev. B. F. De
Costa, of New York. Rev. M. A. Waldron, O.P., D.D., and Rev. W. J.
Kerby, S.T.L., of the Catholic University at Washington, will each give three
lectures. The subjects of Dr. Kerby's lectures are, The Labor Movement,
two lectures, and Socialism. Those who have attended the school will be
pleased to learn that Rev. M. S. Brennan, A.M., of St. Louis, will give one
of his popular illustrated lectures. The general subject of education will be
treated in a course of lectures by the Right Rev. Thomas J. Conaty, D.D., the
Rector of the Catholic University. The Triumph of Christianity is the
subject of a lecture by Rev. J. P. Carroll, D.D., president of St. Joseph's Col-
lege, Dubuque. Rev. Morgan M. Sheedy, of Altoona, Pa., and Hon. M. J.
Wade, of Iowa City, Iowa, will each give two lectures ; subjects not yet an-
nounced. Rev. B. F. Kuhlman, D.D., professor of philosophy at St. Mary's
Seminary, Cincinnati, and Very Rev. P. R. Heffron, D.D., president of St. Paul
Seminary, St. Paul, will each deliver one lecture.

It is expected that Henry Austin Adams and Most Rev. Archbishop Keane,
of Rome, will each deliver a course of lectures.

This list will be enlarged by the addition of several other well-known
speakers. The local committee at Detroit are making all possible arrange-
ments to care for the large number who will attend the school. Every-
thing will be done to contribute to their comfort and pleasure, The chairman
of the committee is Rev. M. J. P. Dempsey, and the secretary is Mr. Frank C.
Cook.

A large illustrated circular, giving full information in regard to lectures,
entertainments, and attractions, will be ready in a short time. For copies of
this circular address the secretary, John A. Hartigan, 1957 St. Anthony Avenue,
St. Paul, Minn. M. C. M.

NATIVITY OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST (June 24)

"Thou shall call his name John ; . . . and many shall rejoice in his nativity. For
he shall be great before the Lord : and shall drink no wine nor strong drink ; and he shall
be filled with the Holy Ghost : . . . that he may turn the hearts of the fathers unto the
children, and the incredulous to the wisdom of the just, to prepare unto the Lord a perfect
people.'' Lttke i. 13, 14, /j, 77.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXXI. JUNE, 1900. No. 423.

Jane.

3une comes, so silken haired ! so wistful cpcd !

7ull bosomed rioal of tDc slender Ittap,

Co wftom mp love was uowed tut pesterdap :

Ikr touch of 'wildering magic, parting wide

Cfte wondrous fclue=oeined clouds, ftas tftrust aside

yon azure fleece along tfte skp bestrewn,

Co flasft tfte rose=ligftt of eternal noon

On all who in her glowing smile abide*

Bewitcfted, tfte songbirds twitter "3une! oce 3une!

Sfte t crimson=clad and ftlusfting, wftispers "Stap/'

Cfte ftreatft of fter dear lips, like fragrant sprap

Of clustering ftonepsuckle wften tfte moon

fiatft kissed it, cftarms fidelitp awap,

flnd wins for 3une tfte loue I swore to map.

J. 0. AUSTIN.

STATE OF NEW YORK. 1900.
VOL. LXXI. -19

290 DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. [June,

DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT.

BY REV. JOSEPH McSORLEY, C.S.P.

" I have long thought that the secret but real cause of the so-called Reformation was that
the office of the Holy Ghost had been much obscured in popular belief." Cardinal Manning:

:T is now three years since the appearance of the
Holy Father's Encyclical Letter on Devotion to
the Holy Spirit.* Surely we shall not exagger-
ate in declaring it to be one of the most timely
and significant of that long and splendid series
of pronouncements which has distinguished the present Pon-
tiff's reign. In the outspoken and emphatic language charac-
teristic of Catholic authority, this document commended devo-
tion to the Holy Spirit as most dear to the Pope's own heart,
and as a salutary and efficient remedy for prevalent evils. A
yearly novena was prescribed for the season of Pentecost, the
frequent preaching of sermons and conferences on the Holy
Spirit was suggested, and all entrusted with the direction of
souls were charged that "it is their duty to impart to the
people with mDre zeal and fulness the teachings relative to the
Holy Ghost." For, said the Holy Father, " perhaps even to-
day there are Christians who would answer as of old the
Ephesians answered the Apostle Paul : ' We have not even
heard if there be a Holy Spirit.' '

Now, the effect of this letter of the Supreme Pontiff was at
once to awaken new love for the Holy Spirit throughout the
length and breadth of the Catholic world. Nor has this bene-
ficent influence yet ceased. Since, however, progress is ever
possible, and since the directions of authority become fruitful
in proportion as they succeed in arousing our personal zeal
and diligent co-operation, we must ever be striving to lend new
impetus to the movement. We know that authority aims at
eliciting personal effort from us. Neither God nor Church will
save us without ourselves, and we are never freed from the
necessity of zestfully laboring as God and Church direct. Con-
sidering, then, the important part played by special devotions
in the spiritual life, and the supreme wisdom of heartily obey-
ing even the slightest suggestions of authority, we must feel it
incumbent on us to make devotion to the Holy Spirit a pre-

* Encyclical Letter on the Holy Spirit. Pope Leo XIII., Qth May, 1897.

i goo.] DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. 291

dominant influence in every life that we can shape or sway.
And because, in the words of Pope Leo, our " love of a
good is proportioned to the fulness and clearness of our knowl-
edge," we must often think, and read, and pray about this
matter that, by gaining fuller knowledge, we may attain to
deeper love.

As the Holy Father has pointed out, a proper understand-
ing of this devotion in question necessitates some knowledge
of Catholic doctrine concerning the Most Blessed Trinity. In
regard to that mystery, then, let us recall the teaching which
bears most directly upon our subject.

THEOLOGICAL ASPECTS.

God, the Infinite Creator of all things, is in Personality
threefold, but in Nature a simple Being, one and undivided.
This Triple Personality, however, in no way militates against
Divine Unity, for the distinction of Persons is confined to
Their relationship with each other. Outside the Trinity, in
operations which affect creatures, no One Person acts separately
from the other Two. The Trinity is the efficient cause of the
creation of men, as of their sanctification. Theologians, though,
indulge in a form of speech called " appropriation," by which
certain acts common to the whole Trinity are specially
assigned to One or Other of the Persons, the reason being the
peculiar harmony of these acts with the personal characteristic
distinguishing that Person from the other Two.

Now, it is the teaching of faith that the human soul is
constituted in the life of grace by the indwelling presence of
God. The Creator is, of course, always and necessarily present
in every creature both by ubiquity and by omnipotence, but
sanctifying grace implies that he is present in a new way,
dwelling in the soul now by love, as previously he dwelt in
virtue of his immensity. " God by his grace dwells in our
souls as in a temple, intimately and specially. Hence arise
those bonds of love whereby the soul is more closely united to
God than a friend to his dearest friend, enjoying him fully and
sweetly. This wonderful union Indwelling, as it is called is
produced in reality by the presence of the whole Trinity, and
only on the part of the recipient differs from that which
makes the saints in heaven blessed." *

THE INDWELLING OF THE HOLY SPIRIT.
This indwelling of God in the soul is by " appropriation "

* See the Pope's Encyclical.

292 DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. [June,

assigned to the Holy Ghost. The reason is that it seems to be
peculiarly in accord with what we know of his Personal charac-
teristic. For the note which distinguishes Him from Father
and Son consists in this, that He is the flowing forth of Divine
Love Amor Procedens and his proper name is said to be
Donum (Gift).* Hence we appropriate to him that indwelling
by which God, the Blessed Trinity, is bestowed on man and
made present in the soul in this new and marvellous manner.

This union of God with the soul occurs whenever a human
creature, being invested with sanctifying grace, becomes a par-
ticipant in the divine nature. For by grace it shares in a life
and power naturally proper to God alone, and thus transcends
the rank of all created natures.! This deification as it has
been called by the Fathers of the Church is effected not by
destroying human nature, not by nullifying its powers, but by
elevating these to a new and higher order wherein they be-
come of greater and divine worth. It is the indwelling Spirit
of God who, by uniting his Divine Substance with his beloved
creature, through grace, thus raises man to the sublime dignity
of Divine Sonship.

This fact that God actually and substantially dwells within
the sanctified soul is, then, the explicit teaching of the Catholic
Church.J The life of grace means this: it means that there
has been effected between the soul and God a union closer
and more real than any other, the union of the two natures
of Christ alone excepted. Since the human race began the
Holy Spirit has been thus active among the souls of men, ever
sanctifying by his presence such as clung to God with firm
and generous hearts. So it was with Adam when he became
the son of God by grace, so it was with David, Elias, Zacharias,
John the Baptist, Simeon, and Anna. So it has been with
every soul within or without the body of the church that
has been raised to the supernatural life of grace. Each has
been sanctified by the presence of the Holy Spirit. For, on
Pentecost "the Holy Ghost did not come to commence his in-
dwelling in the souls of his saints, but to penetrate more
deeply into them, not beginning at that time to bestow his
gifts, but pouring them out in greater abundance, performing
no new work, but continuing what he had already begun." ||

* St. Thomas, Sum. Theol., I. q. xxxvii. a. i, and q. xxxviii. a. 2.
t^C. Mazzella, S.J., De Gratia Christt, prop, xxxiii.

JSt. Thomas, C. Gentes, iv. 18 ; J. Franzelin, S.J., De Deo Trino, th. xliii.; C. Pesch,
S.J., De Deo Trino, prop. Ixxxix.; H. Hurter, S.J., De Deo Trino, th. cciv.

Mazzella, prop, xxxvii. | Quoted from St. Leo the Great in Pope's Encyclical

i goo.] DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. 293

DEGREES OF UNION.

But as in human friendship, so in this mysterious union of
the soul with God, there are degrees and gradations. Sanc-
tity varies in the individual ; so also the intimacy of union
with God. And since the Pentecostal advent of the Holy
Spirit, this grace of union has been bestowed to an extent
utterly inconceivable. " For this gift, this sending of the Holy
Ghost, after the glorification of Christ, was to be such as had
never been before ; not that it had never been given before,
but that it had never been given to the same degree."* So
abundant is this outpouring that the Christian soul can go on
ever strengthening the divine life within, ever binding itself
more intimately to God, gaining new titles to love, forging
stronger chains of affection, winning closer embraces. As flame
in the blazing fire, as a lover in the arms of his beloved, so is
God in the soul. Personally, and literally by the actual pres-
ence of his Divine Substance, he rests in his creature as truly
as he dwells in the tabernacle containing the consecrated Host.

It is this privilege of the Christian which surpasses all
others, as it is the one to which all others tend. The time of
sacramental Communion is a moment of ineffable sweetness
indeed, and human nature can never mount beyond the height
reached when Jesus Christ, God and Man, comes to rest in
the arms of his devout lover. Still, the physical presence of
the Body of Christ does not last for long. With the corrup-
tion of the elements, the physical and bodily union between
the worshipper and his Lord comes to an end. But grace re-
mains. The Holy Ghost, the Spirit of Jesus, abides in the
soul ; and with fiim, both Jesus and the Father. This in-
dwelling is invisible, as indeed the union of the Second Person
with the humanity of Christ was invisible. Like the transfor-
mation of bread into the body and soul and divinity of Jesus
Christ, it produces no sensible result. But just as surely as
Transubstantiation makes Christ's Body present where previously
it was not, so surely does the sanctification of the soul by the
entrance of the Holy Spirit bring God Himself into the human
heart, there to abide as a king upon his own throne.

SENSE OF DOCTRINAL PROPORTIONS.

Such, then, is the doctrine at the basis of devotion to the
Holy Ghost. That devotion takes its rise in the consciousness
that through the indwelling of the Holy Ghost the Christian

*See the Pope's Encyclical.

294 DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. [June,

soul has become the temple of God, that it has been conse-
crated by the Divine Presence as truly as if it were a taber-
nacle marked by the lighted lamp as the abiding place of Jesus
Christ. For this consciousness naturally impels the soul to
direct special thought and nourish special affection towards
that Person of the Most Blessed Trinity through whom this
grace is bestowed.

What rank this devotion holds in the spiritual life we learn
from the Holy Father's emphatic eulogy. Deaf to his teach-
ing and blind to all spiritual perspective would we be if we
ignored this great truth, while exerting ourselves to gain vogue
for the pretty little specialties begotten of pious imaginations.
It is true that in every household use can be found for small
things as well as for great, and the wondrous number and
variety of Catholic devotions may well justify pride and ad-
miration. Nevertheless the sense of doctrinal proportion must
be respected, and it were most unseemly if those ardent in
carrying on the propaganda of minor devotions should remain
" wrapped in error and ignorance as to the benefits and graces
that have always flowed and still flow from this Divine source
error and ignorance, indeed, unbefitting the children of
light." *

CHARACTERISTICS OF THE DIVINE COMFORTER.

Individually, at least, each one of us can do something
toward dissipating that ignorance by enlightening our own
souls ; and though the subject seems to be fathomless, that
does not excuse us from the endeavor to learn something con-
cerning it. It is true, even the personal characteristic of the
Third Person of the Blessed Trinity seems to be shrouded in
peculiarly deep mystery. The names of Father and Son in
nowise adequately or exhaustively describe the proper per-
sonality of Those so named, but we imagine, at least, that we
understand Their relationship to the Divine Nature far better
than we do that of the Third Person. Of his characteristic
we gain but the merest hint in such unsatisfying statements as
theology ventures to advance. Nevertheless the symbols as-
signed to him, and the works appropriated to him, do afford
some aid. First of all, we notice how they seem to throw
about him the kindly light of tenderness and love. The gentle
air, the brooding dove, the soft, clinging cloud-shadow, the
dawning light, the parted tongues of fire these symbols inti-

* See the Pope's Encyclical.

i goo.] DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. 295

mate to us how sweetly lovable must be this Best Gift of the
Father and the Son. And then the offices appropriated to
him as most in harmony with his personal character to sanc-
tify the human soul, to inspire the patriarchs with longing for
the Messias* coming, to pour sweet strains of heavenly music
into psalmist-souls, and illumine the prophets with the gleam
of a light never seen upon earth, these, and the espousing of
Mary, and the forming of the body of Jesus, and his baptism,
and the consecrating of the Apostles, all indicate how greatly
our love and worship would increase did we but know the
Third Person of the Godhead better. For all the precious
graces that come in the Sacraments are His Gift, and all the
sweetness and strength and comfort infused in prayer, and
every good deed of all the millions of priests he has anointed
with his holy unction since the church began all these are His
work too.

So out from the obscurity breaks a glimmering of the love-
liness of that Divine Comforter whose advent it was expedient
we should purchase even at the cost of Christ's departure.
Surely devotion to him will bring some new nobility into our
sordidly selfish lives.

WHAT IS IMPLIED BY THE DEVOTION.

And now what is implied by devotion to the Holy Spirit ?
First of all, an endeavor constantly to attend to His Presence
in our souls. If we were to do that well and lovingly, we
should need no other form of recollection. To gaze affection-
ately on the face of God unveiled is the life of the blessed in
heaven. To remain close to him each moment while here upon
earth, to acquire the habit of ever directing the will lovingly
toward him, to contemplate him hidden in the soul's depths
under the veil of faith, that is a life of the best and highest
prayer, a life that has transformed thousands of men and wo-
men into saints. Like Adam in the garden, we walk daily in
the company of God. Like the Virgin after the angelic salu-
tation, we bear within us the Holy Ghost, the Spirit of the
Most High. And as the Sacred Heart of our Divine Saviour
was thrilled with the ineffable and measureless graces poured
into It by the Holy Spirit, we too are quickened and sancti-
fied and made more than human by his loving touch.

The flame-illumined crystal, shot through and through \vith
splendor, but typifies our souls when by the indwelling Spirit
we are made partakers of Divinity. God's spirit in the in-

296 DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. [June,

nermost depths of our being is soothing, healing, livening,
strengthening, uplifting, comforting, purifying us, hour by hour.
He is ever gently stirring our souls as the summer air that
breathes so softly amid the forest leaves. Truly God is with
us. Truly we are his temples, bearing him in our bodies a
precious treasure in earthen vessels.

When first this truth is presented to our minds we draw
back in astonishment and doubt. Then, as conviction slowly
dawns, we feel stunned and bewildered. We have been walking
among crowded sand-hills that shut away the view on every
side, and suddenly we come out upon a great shoreless sea
stretching away into infinite space. The mist is gathered
thick above the water. Nothing can be seen except brooding
mist, and nothing heard but the thunder of the hidden surf.
We are humbled, awed, terrified. The great God dwelling in
us ! What can it mean ?

And then the story of Bishop Cheverus comes back to us,
perhaps ; how the sainted priest confessed his humiliation when
some one said to him : " What ! you believe that Jesus Christ,
the Incarnate God, descends from heaven each morning to
enter your bosom ? Why, you would be rapt into the ecstasy
of a saint ! " " At these words," said the good old prelate, " I
blushed with shame, for so it should be."

THE EVER-LIVING PRESENCE WITHIN US.

Thus we find it beyond belief that we are still so worldly
and selfish and sinful, with the Spirit of God really dwelling
in us. But it is a fact that cannot be gainsaid. The privilege
is not optional. Whether we will it or not, we have been
" born again " into the life of grace, the supernatural order,
and have come into the company of the saints ; for our great
glory should we persevere, for our inevitable and well-deserved
shame and ruin were we now to become castaway. Far better
the mollusk on the sea-shore, or the toad imprisoned in a
rock, than a soul turned away from God. But though the
issue is in our own hands, the choice of evading responsibility
has not been given us. We are equipped for the struggle, but
its necessity is upon us ; we must face it, whether for better
or ?for worse. "Your members are the members of Christ";
"Your body is God's temple." "Be ye, therefore, perfect even
as your Heavenly Father is perfect."

It is true that the first deep realization of this truth may
be fearful and oppressive; the initial step in devotion to the

1900.] DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. 297

Holy Ghost is apt to be made in dread and trembling. " This
indeed is an awful place : for God was in this spot and I
knew it not," we say at our first long look into the depths of
our souls. It is as if, while imagining yourself to be alone at
night, you were to turn about and suddenly see a face in the
dark, with great eyes that seemed to pierce you through and
through. But, as you recover from the momentary terror, you
find that the face is as sweet and loving as that of the mother
who used to bend over your childhood crib, and that the eyes
resting on you are soft and winning, and deep with an infinite
tenderness beyond all ever seen before. And then your heart
leaps up in an answering love, as if now at last its quest were
ended and it had found an object worthy of all its loving
worship.

THE SOUL ENSHRINING THE DEITY.

And so it really is. There is a hunger in the human soul
unsatisfied by all the joys that creatures can bestow. There is
a love best appreciated when the eyes are closed, and mentioned
only with bated breath, as something too sacred to be con-
versed about in common tones. It is the love of God, surpass-
ing the love of woman, and its joys transcend the bliss of the
mother and her smiling babe, of the bridegroom and his bride,
of the faithful pair that have seen their golden jubilee of
wedded life. Searching for this love we ever tend to make
gods of our fellow-creatures. But no creature can remain our
God for long, and left without a God we become again un-
happy and restless.

"We seek Him down the nights and down the days;
We seek Him down the arches of the years."

And at last, Augustine-like, we find Him within God, the
Holy Ghost ; and, as Catherine of Siena, building a little
chapel in the soul we worship him there with fervor for ever-
more. Now is our God always with us, embracing, caressing
us in the sacred privacy of love's communion : " I to my Be-
loved, and his turning is toward me."

The old charm of selfishness is gone now. From morn till
night we are under the eyes of the God who loves us. The
most trifling infidelity is now become an unpardonable crime,
as if grieving the Holy Spirit were the same with neglecting
the slightest wish of the dear invalid whose sensitive, restless
eyes ever follow the nurse moving about the sick-room. A
venial sin seems like a sacrilege now, as if we were close to

298 DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. [June,

the tabernacle, or at the altar-rail. Dreadfully wearing all this !
some one says. Ah! but the reward. Who can describe the
joys of the saint ? On the edge of the sun-scorched desert is
the cool wood with its heavy leaves, and its damp moss, and
its running stream. And here, far from the worry of creatures
and the taint of sin, the soul finds rest and peace and a
Divine Comforter. And that dear solitude is loved as no other
spot on earth. In the shadow, unseen of men, here within my
heart, God dwells with me and I with him. No pulse of mine
can beat, no breath be drawn, but he knows it. I live, now
not I, but he lives within me. And sooner than lose that
sweet consciousness of his presence, that sense of his watchful
eye, I would suffer the bitterest pain. For with him pain is
paradise, and without him life is a dreary torment.

OBEDIENCE TO INSPIRATIONS.

But mere loving attention to the fact of God's indwelling
is not the last of our relationship with him. The will must enter
actively into our intimacy, our contemplation must be that of
faithful servants, whose eyes are bent upon their master's
hands, and who await only the signal to obey with alacrity and
exactness. If, then, our devotion to the Holy Spirit be real,
it will imply ready and perfect obedience to his inspirations.
And as attention to him is the perfection of the life of prayer,
so obedience to his inspirations is the perfection of the active
Hfe. For what are the gifts of the Holy Spirit if not habits
of soul disposing us to do God's will promptly and perfectly.*

Consideration of this simple truth may help us to realize
the true ideal of spiritual direction, namely, that God is the
supreme director of souls, and that all human consultation is
of use in proportion as it leads to the recognition and fulfil-
ment of the Divine Will. We need to be instructed and per-
haps encouraged by others, but we must also make large use of
our own enlightened common sense, and the impulses of grace
in our souls. The frequent advice of others may be perfectly
indispensable to our success, and consequently is to be sought ;
but we should not neglect opportunities of useful work, merely
because no one has suggested our embracing them. Nor can
we always have a director within call, unless indeed it be the
indwelling Spirit. And therefore the best direction is that which
trains men in prompt and spontaneous fidelity to the guidance
of God's Holy Spirit, as the normal spiritual life is that where-

* " The gifts of the Holy Spirit are habits which perfect man in prompt obedience to the
Holy Spirit." St. Thomas, Sum. Theol., I. 2X. q. Ixviii. a. 3.

1 900.] DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. 299

in the soul, instead of merely shaping itself on the minute de-
tails of a model provided by an adviser, uses its own intelli-
gence to recognize, and its own will to execute God's particular
designs in its regard. How simple in sublimity the rule of
life which has for its supreme principle the conscience, in-
structed by authoritative teaching, and energized by the prompt-
ings of the Holy Spirit !

SAFETY IN EXTERNAL STANDARDS.

But does this not render the individual lawless and his-
conduct arbitrary ? In the spiritual life, thus conceived, there
must be danger of pride, fanaticism, vagrant fancies, illusions,,
and the worst possible self-deception. That is true ; and ruin
would be imminent were there no balance, no corrective,
no external standard of guidance. Here, as always, the beau-
tiful symmetry of Catholic doctrine is manifested, and its
unity made evident. The inner promptings of the voice of
God are to be tested by their harmony with the external
direction of authority. God will not contradict himself \
the less obvious and certain direction is to be corrected
by the clearer. Hence, in case of conflict, the supposed in-
spiration must always give way to the explicit direction of
lawfully constituted authority. This rule has been well illus-
trated in the lives of saints like Teresa, who professed that
they would obey the command of a lawful superior more read-
ily than they would follow any interior suggestion, though it
seemed clearly to proceed from the Holy Spirit. Thus it is
that fidelity to the integral Catholic ideal has ever enabled men
to steer safely between the fatal alternatives of fanaticism and
indolent passivity. The plumb-line of the mason, the rudder
of a ship, the beacon on a lee-shore, external authority con-
stantly guides and directs the human activity initiated per-
haps by an internal prompting, but liable to end in disaster if
it neglects the corrective of direction from without. For the
demon may whisper within us in the guise of an angel of light.
Obeying legitimate superiors, however, we cannot go astray.
The wall will be true to a hair's-breadth, the ship will safely
weather the foam-bathed rocks ; and it is the certainty of being
thus guarded against danger which enables the loyal Catholic
to work out God's plan with untroubled serenity.

FIDELITY TO INSPIRATIONS.

All this is certain ; but we must not forget that God's plan
is a harmony, that in the perfect observance of inner and outer

300 DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. [June,

lies the fulfilling of the law. To work lawlessly were crime.
To work only when expressly commanded by external authority
were indolence. The danger-signals and the limits of progress
are marked from without ; the impulse to act is often from
within. The careful watch of lawfully constituted guardians,
like the swaddling-clothes of infancy, protects against fatal
chill ; but the Christian, like the babe, lives not in virtue of
swaddling-clothes alone. Faithful and energetic correspondence
to the will of God, manifested externally by superiors or by
circumstances, and hearty co-operation with the suggestions of
the indwelling Spirit both are necessary elements in the
building up of God's household. The Gentile missions of Paul,
the reformed foundations of Teresa, the new institute of
Ignatius, were deeds inspired by secret whispers that the Divine
Master communicated to these saints in the privacy of their
own souls. External authority did not give birth to these
movements. What it did, and did thoroughly, was to provide
against all possibility of disaster.

Many a one, no doubt, is ready to say : " But I never have
any such inspirations. I never hear the voice of God within
my soul." Cleanse away sin, shut out the world, purify self-
love, and then listen. Why, to the worst of men God whispers
his admonitions through the voice of conscience, and it must
be that he will speak more often and more explicitly to souls
sanctified by grace. If we are attentive we shall certainly not
fail to receive suggestions from him. If we are faithful to the
light given, it will go on always increasing.* Evening and morn-
ing, at our going out and at our coming in, now amid the bustle
of daily duties and now in the retirement of a church, the
good impulse may be felt. Sometimes an inclination to prayer
and again a summons to action, first a call to mortification
and then to kindness, this time the suggestion of a pleasant
duty and later of one that is bitterly repugnant so the
motions of the Spirit vary as he listeth. But they gather about
our pathway, ever and always at one time as a soothing dew
and again as a scorching fire, now as soft, low music, and now
as the trumpet-call to battle for all ways are his. He is ever
beside us, ever within us, and his inspirations fall athwart our
souls as constantly as the long shadows on the quiet surface of
a mountain lake. So Jesus with the disciples trained them
for their work. So, instructed by the guiding Spirit, the Apos-
tolic twelve revolutionized the world. Ever contemplating and

* The Spiritual Doctrine of Father Louis Lallemant, S.L, p. 168.

1900.] DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. 301

ever obeying God, we too will be transformed into some greater
likeness to him, as friends dwelling together for years grow to
resemble one another.

SPIRITUAL PERFECTION THE RESULT.

The result of this devotion is, in one word, Perfection. Its
examples are the saints who in every age and land, with an
infinite variety of dispositions and faculties, have learned to
become perfect instruments of the God abiding in their souls.
They have exhibited in. fulness those gifts and graces which
are the proper fruits of devotion to the Holy Spirit : wisdom,
understanding, knowledge, counsel, piety, fortitude, fear, charity,
joy, peace, patience, benignity, goodness, longanimity, mildness,
faith, modesty, continency, chastity gifts and graces in which
every good Christian shares to some extent, but which are
capable of indefinite and lasting increase. Thus will our lives
be rounded out and perfected if we too learn to love the
Spirit of God and faithfully follow his guidance. For are not
all other things for the sake of this, the visible on account of
the invisible? Surely it is so. And the ultimate end of human
existence is but the perfecting of the relationship begun by
the Holy Spirit's entrance into the soul.

Many times the pursuit of this ideal will conflict with pre-
valent notions and cherished traditions perhaps, but it must be
pursued faithfully none the less. The world will move, be the
denials of that fact ever so numerous and loud. And as it
moves, God inclines men first in this direction and then in an-
other. Human wills must be free and ready to follow the
divine. Ad majorem Dei gloriam must be our ultimate princi-
ple of action, and it must stand supreme. " God first " was
the interpretation given to this maxim by the saint who has
made it a household word among modern Catholics, and the
Exercises he invented were framed to train the soul so that,
purged of attachment to minor goods and means, it might ever
aim at whole-hearted loyalty to the Supreme Good, the end of
its existence, and always elect to follow him.

THE DEVOTION ESPECIALLY SUITED TO OUR DAY.

There is more than one reason why it seems as though de-
votion to the Holy Spirit were especially suited for our age,
and above all for the people of this country earnest, intelli-
gent, active, and liberty-loving. Mindful of the significance of
those acts of the Holy Father which officially bear upon the

302 DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. [June,

whole Christian world, we may well consider his directions to
be a heaven-sent indication of the spiritual ideals that will best
avail for the perfecting of the existing social order. In conse-
crating the whole human race to "the Sacred Heart, the sym-
bol and sensible image of the infinite love of Jesus Christ,"*
he has directed attention toward that devotion which attaches
men most firmly to the person of Him who is their Way,
their Truth, and their Life. In renewing devotion to the
Holy Spirit, he has influenced men to turn their thoughts
inward and learn the ineffable dignity of the life of grace, and
he has encouraged that love of internal personal religion, that
loyalty to the inner promptings of grace, that cultivation of
the highest form of prayer, and that sense of individual free-
dom and individual responsibility so well fostered by this devo-
tion, and in default of which vital spirituality is so likely to
decay.

A GUARD AGAINST SPIRITUAL DANGERS.

"I have long thought," said Cardinal Manning, "that the
secret but real cause of the so-called Reformation was that
*he office of the Holy Ghost had been much obscured in
.popular belief." But the new religionists brought about a far
worse state of affairs. Making no headway themselves, they
-still obstructed the path of others. For wild fanaticism such
as they displayed was the one thing most likely to discourage
.authority from reposing confidence in the personal fidelity of the
subject. Catholics were forced to concentrate all resources on
the defence of points attacked. External authority was of neces-
sity emphasized most strongly and became all dominant, while in-
dividual initiative in action and individual freedom in methods
were suspected to be, and often developed into, the false and
-fanatical vagaries of heresy.

But to-day the siege is nigh over. Protestantism has all
but completed its process of self-disintegration, and now
the evil most to be feared is indifferentism and infidelity.
To this our century tends, as is evident, and the national
genius of our own country is such that naturalism, as the
Holy Father has warned us, is the point of danger.f And
.how thoroughly is this danger counteracted by the two great
-devotions which the Pontiff has seen fit to commend so
specially devotion to the sacred symbol of the God-Man's

*See the Pope's Encyclical, Annum Sacrum, 25th May, 1899.
t See .the Pope's Letter, Testem Benevolentice, 22<i Jan., 1899.

11 o

1 903.] DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. 303

love for us, and devotion to the indwelling of the Holy Spirit !
We tend to humanism, therefore our natural bent is caught
and directed upward to the transfixed Heart of the Saviour of
Mankind. Again, we tend to exaggerate liberty, our sacred
birthright that liberty of which the Pontiff wrote, " it is the
greatest of man's natural gifts " * and therefore devotion to
the Holy Spirit is commended, that human liberty may be
bound in the chains of divine love, and made over to God in
the free and spontaneous consecration of our wills to the will
of the Divinity reigning within us. Thus has the highest
authority in the church stamped his supreme approval on a
devotion which already had been marked as specially fitted for
our day by the decree of the Baltimore Council, by the action
of the American College at Rome, by the books and pamphlets
and burning speeches of cardinals, archbishops, bishops, and
saintly priests throughout the English speaking world. What
indeed can be better adapted to bring about that desire so
dear to the venerable Pontiff's heart and so repeatedly men-
tioned in his letters the renewal of Christian life in human
sDciety and the reconciliation to the faith of all those outside
the church ? Surely the finger of God points out this devotion
as one which, earnestly cultivated, will lead all dissenters into
the Catholic fold and inspire all Catholics to lives of. sanctity.

Each of us, then, may feel specially called to cherish it.
How greatly it helps to simplify our lives! Neither badge,
medal, nor affiliation is necessary to its practice ; the sole
equipment is a lovingly attentive heart, and this all Christians
may lay claim to, if they will, in any place, at any time, and
under any circumstances. Love and obey the Spirit, his outer
and inner voice, and it is enough. As a pillar of cloud and a
pillar of fire, he will lead you on and into the land of promise.
The glad spring sunshine, the grateful perfume of the pine
woods, the murmurs of splashing fountains none of these is
delightful compared to the gracious caress and the sweet whisper
of the indwelling Spirit, the Spouse of our souls. It was once
a custom in Catholic countries to symbolize the advent of the
Holy Ghost at Pentecost by letting fragrant blossoms and
lighted fleece fall from the ceiling of the church. Well did
those symbols recall the love and light bestowed on those who
become his disciples.

Among the splendid old hymns that have thrilled the
church for centuries there is one, the <l Veni, Creator Spiritus,"

* See the Pope's Encyclical, Libertas, 2oth June, 1888.

304 DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. [June,

unique in its wonderful history. To the echo of its music
kings have been anointed and emperors crowned. While its
cry went up from the kneeling thousands, bishops have knelt
beneath the consecrating oil, priests have been ordained, and
temples erected to God. Under its inspiration spotless souls
have consecrated their chastity to Christ, preachers have stirred
sinners to life-long penitence, and showers of Pentecostal grace
have flowed down on men. May it find new echo within each
Catholic soul to day ! Vent, Creator Spiritus ! May his advent
this Pentecost awaken us to the joyous consciousness that he
is come indeed, and is abiding within us, never more to depart
until in Heaven our eyes open to gaze eternally upon His
uncovered Face !

NOTE. Those who cherish devotion to the Holy Spirit will find much to attract and
enlighten them in the following volumes, obtainable from any Catholic publisher ; the first
fifteen on the list will be welcomed by all earnest readers, while the last ten will help to open
up a view of God's wondrous dealings in specially sanctified souls.

Lallemant, S.J.: Spiritual Doctrine.

Manning : Internal Mission of the Holy Ghost.

Baker : Holy Wisdom (Sancta Sophia).

Caussade, S.J.: Abandonment ; Workings of the Divine Will.

Scupoli : Spiritual Combat.

Hilton : Ladder of Perfection (Scala Perfectionis).

De Sales : Love of God, and other works.

A Kempis : Imitation of Christ, and other works.

Grou, S.J.: Hidden Life, and other works.

Surin, S.J.: Foundations, Letters, Catechisme Spirituel (French).

Bona : Easy Way to God.

Tyrrell, S.J.: External Religion.

Bowden : Spiritual Works by Louis of Blois.

Fenelon : Letters.

Hedley : Retreat Conferences.

Hahn-Hahn : Fathers of the Desert (preface by Dalgairns).

Cassian : Conferences.

Lights in Prayer of Ven. Fathers De la Puente, De la Colombiere, and Segneri, S.J.

Rigoleuc, S.J.: Walking with God.

Bellecius, S.J.: Solid Virtue.

Bridgett : Suppliant oMhe Holy Ghost.

Preston : The Divine Paraclete.

Zardetti : Devotion to the Holy Ghost.

Rawes : Little Books of the Holy Ghost.

Nieremberg, S.J.: Adoration in Spirit and in Truth.

Faber : Notes on Doctrinal Subjects, ii. 2.

Scheeben : Glories of Divine Grace.

Collins : Divine Cloud.

Tauler : Following of Christ.

Mother Juliana : Revelations of Divine Love.

Blessed Angela of Foligno : Visions and Instructions.

St. Teresa : Autobiography, and other works.

St. John of the Cross : Ascent of Mount Carmel, and other.'works.

.St. Catherine of Genoa : Life and Doctrine.

St. Bernard : Love of God, and other works.

Joly : Psychology of the Saints.

AN ANCIENT BRIDGE OVER THE SARUS AT ADANA. IT WAS BUILT BY EMPEROR JUSTINIAN

I. AND REPAIRED BY ST. HELENA, MOTHER OF CONSTANTINE. IT WAS OVER

THIS BRIDGE ST. HELENA PASSED WHEN GOING TO JERUSALEM.

RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS.

BY RIGHT REV. PAUL TERZIAN,
Bishop of Adana and Tarsus.

ONE of the Eastern countries has attracted so
much attention as unhappy Armenia. In order
to secure the peace between Russia and Eng-
land it has been deemed necessary that a neu-
tral zone be established under the dominion of
the Sublime Porte. Armenia is so situated geographically that
it has been made to constitute a portion of this neutral zone.
The Turk in accepting the suzerainty of Armenia promised not
only that he would not molest the people but that he would
protect them in their rights. Turkish promises are one half
duplicity and the other half self-interest, and are kept only so
long as Christian nations compel their fulfilment. The story of
the last half-century has been a story of the kind of protec-
tion that the tiger gives to the sheep that falls into its merci-
less claws. The meagre reports that the Turkish censorship
allows to go out to the Western world reveal a continued
series of butcheries, starvations, and atrocities.

The people of Armenia are Christian, though the majority

are in schism. There are above 100,000 schismatics through

Cilicia and the contiguous provinces. While a great deal of

American missionary money has been poured jnto these pro-

VOL. LXXI. 20

306 RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. [June,

vinces, and has been used to build schools and orphanages,
still the Oriental people with their ancient traditions, which go
back to the beginnings of Christianity, will not adhere perma-
nently to Protestantism as a religion.

Of late years there has been a notable return of these
schismatics to union with Rome. The present Holy Father
has guaranteed that in their return to the unity of Christen-
dom they would not be required to forsake any of their ancient
ecclesiastical customs, and that if they acknowledge the primacy
of Peter they may continue in the enjoyment of their ancient
rites. These guarantees have given a wonderful impulse to the
work of reunion. There is no one of the bishops who has
worked harder to bring about the return of the Armenian peo-
ple to Rome than the modern Apostle of the ancient see of St.
Paul. He has more than once written an account of his work
and his people in these pages, and again we present an inter-
esting story of some customs among his down-trodden people.

There is, perchance, not in all history a people whose history
is so interesting, and at the same time whose condition is so
pitiable, as the Uniate Catholics of the ancient see of St. Paul.
Within a few years over 3,000 have forsaken the churches of
the schismatics and have gone out to worship in mud hovels,
and under the canopy of heaven, for the sake of affiliating
with the successor of St. Peter, and to no one is this return of
the people due more than to Monseigneur Paul, the present
Bishop of Tarsus. EDITOR CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE.

ORIGIN OF FAITH .AMONG THE ARMENIANS.

The Armenians were the first people of the Gentile world
to believe in our Divine Saviour, having been baptized in his
holy name under their first king, Abgar.

When Jesus Christ appeared on earth God chose to reveal
himself to Abgar in preference to all the princes of the world,
-and, while still a pagan, this monarch seemed predestined to
the honor of becoming the defender of Christ. In the year
340 of the Greek Empire, during the reign of Tiberius, Empe-
ror of Rente, Abgar, son of Ariham, reigned in Mesopotamia
in Syria, in the city of Edessa. In the thirty-second year of
his. reign, on the twelfth day of the month of Saturn, he
despatched Marihab and Sehamsehagram, the most distin-
guished men in his kingdom, and Anan his counsellor, with

i goo.] RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. 307

THE MOSQUE AT ADANA, NOTED FOR ITS BLACK AND WHITE MARBLE PORTICO AND
MINARET OF PERSIAN STYLE. IT WAS FORMERLY A CHRISTIAN CHURCH.

certain letters to be delivered to the great and noble Sabinus
of Eustorgia, governor of Syria. Having accomplished their
mission in the city of Eleutheropolis these ambassadors re-
turned home by way of Jerusalem, in which city they remarked
with astonishment the great crowd gathered about and watch-
ing Jesus. They approached and observed carefully ; and Anan,
counsellor of the king, wrote down what he had seen and what
had been told him concerning the Messias.

Then, on returning home, in the king's presence, Anan read
all that he had written. The king evinced great astonishment,
and remarked to the members of his court : These miracles are
undeniably divine, for who is there that can raise the dead ex-
cept God alone ? And he would have gone in person to Jeru-
salem but for the fact that he feared to give occasion for war
by venturing into a land which belonged to the Romans. So

3"o8 RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. [June,

he wrote a letter to Jesus and confided it to his counsellor,
Anan. It was couched in these terms:

" Abgar, son of Ariham, to the great Teacher, Jesus, who has

appeared in the country of Jerusalem, greeting.
" MASTER :

" I have heard that thou dost heal, not with medicines
but by thy word simply ; that thou dost give sight to the
blind, that thou dost make the lame to walk, that thou dost
purify the lepers, that thou dost give hearing to the deaf, that
thou dost cast out demons, that thou dost raise the dead and
heal the infirm. Hearing of these wonders I concluded that
thou art God and the Son of God, come down from heaven.

" For this reason have I addressed to thee this letter, beg-
ging thee to come to me, that I may adore thee and may ob-
tain the cure of my infirmities according to my faith in thy
power.

" Moreover, I have heard that the Jews murmur against
thee, persecute thee, and seek to kill thee.

" Deign, then, to come to me. I possess a beautiful city
which will be sufficient for us both. We shall dwell there in
peace."

Jesus, having received this letter while in the house of the

high -priest of
the Jews, thus
answered Anan,
counsellor of
the king :

"Go tell thy
master : Happy
art thou to be-
lieve in me with-
out having seen
me, for it is
written, those
who see me will
not believe. As
for thy invita-
tion, know that

my mission is accomplished, and I must ascend unto my Father.
After my ascension I will send to thee one of my disciples, who
will restore health to thee and to thy people, and will lead

IN AN ARMENIAN BAPTISM THE GODFATHER HOLDS THE BABE.

1900.] RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS A MO AC THE ARMENIANS. 309

thee to life eternal. May thy city be blessed, and may it
never fall into the hands of thy enemies ! "

Having received this message Anan painted a picture of
Jesus in beautiful colors, and, carrying it to Edessa, presented

IN THE RIVER CYDNUS, THAT FLOWS BY TARSUS, ALEXANDER THE GREAT BATHED WHILE
PERSPIRING PROFUSELY. THE BATH NEARLY TERMINATED FATALLY.

it to the king, his master. Abgar received it with joy and re-
spect, and placed it in his palace. And after the ascension of
Jesus, the Apostle Thomas sent to King Abgar Thaddeus, one
of the seventy-two disciples.

Thaddeus on his coming was received and entertained by a
man of Jewish origin, Tobias by name, and descended from
the great Tobias. The news of his arrival quickly spread, and
the king, informed of it by his satrap Abdias, sent for Tobias
and said to him : " A mighty man has entered thy house ;
bring him to me."

The following day Tobias introduced Thaddeus. The king,
surrounded as he was by his satraps, ministers, and great lords,
prostrated himself with his face to the ground, for he saw
Thaddeus radiant with shining light.

The courtiers, who saw nothing of the prodigy, were as-

3io RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. [June,

tounded at this mark of respect. But the king said to Thad-
deus: " I adjure thee by the truth, art thou the disciple of that
mighty one, Jesus, Son of God, who promised to send one of
his disciples to heal me and give me life? And Thaddeus an-
swered : He in whom thou hast believed hath sent me to thee.
Then said Abgar : So truly have I believed in him that when
I was told that the Jews had crucified him, I would have
marched against them to destroy them, but I was prevented
on account of the Romans, since in accord with the custom of
my predecessors I have made a treaty with Tiberius."

And the apostle answered : " Since thou believest with thy
heart, I impose hands on thee. In the name of Jesus be thou
healed." And the king was healed.

Now, when Abdias, son of Abdion, saw the wonder he thrust
forward his feet, tortured by the gout, saying : " I believe " ;
and he too was healed.

Then the king said to the apostle: "Thou hast manifested
to us the power of Jesus ; now tell us of his entrance into the
world, his life, his miracles, and his death." And Thaddeus
spoke in the presence of King Abgar, and all the princes and
satraps, and before Augusta, mother of Abgar, and before
Sehlamathia, daughter of Mithridates and wife of Abgar.

When the mother, the wife, and the courtiers of the king
had heard, they glorified God and Jesus Christ ; and Abgar
said : " I would have thee repeat to the whole city that Which
we have heard."

Immediately the king ordered Abdias, now healed of his
former malady, to proclaim to all the men and women of the
city that they should gather to hear the preaching of the apos-
tle in the place called Bettsbara, a vast space belonging to the
family of Avita, son of Abdehhi.

And all the inhabitants of the city, men and women, as
well as the princes and the satraps of the king, gathered
together. There were in the crowd many soldiers and laborers,
Jews and pagans, and strangers come from other lands such as
Nisibis and Haran, and numerous inhabitants of Mesopotamia,
who had come together in great numbers.

And when Thaddeus had exposed the doctrine of Christ and
had said, " Now I must finish my discourse ; let those who
have welcomed the word of Jesus Christ and who wish to
assist at our prayers remain with us," he saw with pleasure
that the majority remained. King Abgar rejoiced, and said to
Thaddeus ; " I will remain firm in my belief, I and my son

1900.] RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. 311

Maaven, and the
queens Augusta
and Sehlamathia :
we will prostrate
ourselves before
Jesus Christ. Now
do thou build a
church whereso-
ever seemeth good
to thee, that God
may be worship-
ped with all free-
dom ; and Thad-
deus builded a
church where the
king, the princes,
and the people of-
fered God their
prayers and daily
gl o r i fi e d him.
And Thaddeus
cured many sick.
When the rulers
of the city and
their colleagues
saw his miracles
they hastened to

overturn the altar of the false gods, Bel and Nabon, and also
the great altar which stood in the middle of the city ; crying out,
* Jesus Christ is the true God and Thaddeus is his prophet.' '
The Apostle continued to preach and the worshippers -of
idols of stone and wood came and threw themselves at his feet,
and he baptized them in the name of the Father and of the
Son and of the Holy Ghost. Thus did Armenia become the
Christian kingdom.

II.

BAPTISM.

With this most ancient introduction of the Christian faith
among the Armenians began a remarkable reverence and zeal
for the holy sacrament of baptism which have always been
characteristic of our people, and which surely will last even to
the end of the world. Nothing can interfere with their attach-

MGR. MEGHERDITCH KEYFSISIAN, ARMENIAN PATRIARCH,
WHO DIED IN 1896.

312 RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. [June,.

ment for this first of the seven sacramental bases of the-
Christian faith. At all hours of the night, even during the
most inclement weather, in the stormy winter amid snow and
mud no small consideration when roads are unpaved they
never hesitate to come and beg the priest to baptize the
new-born infant. Does sickness threaten the life of the child?
The more reason then, before seeking remedies to heal its
body, to hasten to provide for the eternal welfare of its soul.
They would rather see the object of their affection depart to
God damp with the purifying water of the baptismal font than
to expire snugly wrapped up in its cradle. Even when the
health of the little one gives no reason for disquietude, they
do not wait, as the Western races do, for a long, indefinite
period before seeing their infant become the child of Christ.
Another motive for haste is that everybody, not even except-
ing the mother, is strictly forbidden to kiss or embrace an un-
baptized infant.

So, on the morrow of the birth, or at most within eight
days if there are grave reasons for such delay e. g., the absence
of a godparent or the illness of the mother, etc. preparations
are made with great religious devotion.

According to ancient usage of the people of Armenia, once
wealthy and opulent, presents were exchanged between the
parents of the little one and the godfather or the godmother,
proportioned to their social position ; and, if the little one
were a boy and the first that had blest their union, the parents
spared no expense within their power. In former times these
presents consisted of rings enriched with precious stones, and
pieces of gold, taken from the current coinage, to be used as
ornaments by young girls and old women. These pieces, strung
upon an iron wire in the form of a semi-circle around the neck
under the chin, glittered on the upper part of the bosom like
little shining suns. But these precious gifts, real tokens of
ancient magnificence, are replaced to-day by common linen
garments, chemises, handkerchiefs, napkins wrought with
wreaths, laces, embroideries executed by young girls of our
schools, superintended by our good sisters of the Congregation
of the Immaculate Conception of Adana and of Hadjina.

The ceremony of baptism is always performed at the church.
If, however, some pressing dangers prevent it for the moment
from, being performed at the church, it may be begun at the
house on condition .that the child shall be taken to the churcl
on the recovery of its health, in order completely to fulfil th<

1900.] RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. 313

ceremony. On the eve of the day fixed for the baptism invi-
tations are sent to all relatives, friends, and neighbors ; a crowd
composed of men and of women slowly follows the midwife,
who walks in front holding her precious charge within her
arms. The adornment of the altar and of the baptistery, the
number of the priests and of the choir-children, is at the choice
of the godfather, who must bear the expense.

The ceremonies attendant on the administration of baptism,

THE RESIDENCE OF SCHISMATIC ARMENIAN PATRIARCHS IN Sis.

according to the discipline of the church, are the same for all.
But with regard to ornamental accessories, we, like others,
have statutes fixing three grades of expenditure according to
the condition of the people. It is pitiful to see, side by side
with their love of beautiful display leading them to desire all
the pomps and ceremonies possible, their inability to meet the
necessary expenses. The church, indeed, like a tender mother,
asks but little in return for the joy which she is ever pour-
ing into the hearts and souls of her children, especially when
she finds them struggling with extreme poverty. To manage
matters, however, so as never to give offence is often a difficult
matter for the clergy.

Some there are among us who, while well able to make an
offering to the church on these occasions, are not accustomed
to do so. The reason is that when, about the middle of this

RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. [June,

century, a movement towards Catholicism sprang up in Asia
Minor, the Adaniotes gave it a strong impetus. Not to dis-
courage this tendency, our predecessors judged it wise to
sanction the observance of these formalities without fee. An
excessive attachment to this privilege has perpetuated it even
to our own days. Another unfortunate circumstance is that the
Protestants have dazzled the people's eyes with the glitter of
their gold, lavishly distributed.

Thus, 'it is easy to see the difficulties of our contest against
the secret enemies of the flock of Christ ; still we may res
our trust in the deep attachment of the Armenians to the
Catholic religion, a spirit well preserved among our new con
verts ; and may we not hope that the good seed sown in our
daily preachings, and in the teaching of our schools, maintained
by the encouragement and the alms of pious souls, will bear
fruit, that the tree will grow so mighty that the birds of heaven
will come and dwell in the branches thereof ?

But to return to our subject. Baptism as administered in
the Orient consists of three immersions in the name o
the Holy Trinity. Water having been poured on the
head, the whole body is plunged into the water. When
the greatest solemnity is observed, the ceremony is performed
by the bishop of the diocese himself, accompanied by priests
and choir-children clad in their sacred habits, as many in
number as the godfather may desire. In the ordinary cere-
mony, which is performed outside the door of the sacristy, it
is the priest who first takes the child from the midwife and
gives it to the godfather. After the profession of faith he
turns toward the west to abjure the devil, then he turns back
again to the east to pronounce the adorable names of the
Trinity. Finally, as they enter the sacristy, the priest places
the hem of his chasuble upon the infant carried by the god-
father, who follows the priest as the latter advances to the
baptistery, reciting the psalm " Introibo." With us confirmation
is administered immediately after baptism. The ceremony
takes place in the church proper, before the altar of the
Blessed Virgin. The forehead, the eyes, the ears, the nose,
the mouth, the hands, the back, the breast, and the upper
part of both feet are anointed, and two wax tapers are placed
in the hands of the godfather, who carries the child in his
arms. Then the priest takes the child in his arms with the
two tapers, and consecrates the newly baptized, confirms him
to God by three profound inclinations before the altar, and

;

1900.] RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. 315

RELIGIOUS SCENES IN A MOSQUE. DERVISHES IN PRAYER.

giving the child back to the godfather, the priest blesses them
both. Thereafter the infant is called by his baptismal name.
It may be remarked that in baptism one single name is given,
and that it is always the name of a saint.

After the ceremony the procession returns to the house of
the newly baptized, preceded by priests and choir-children,
who sing canticles of joy. During the return journey it is no
longer the midwife but the godfather who carries the infant in
his arms, holding at the same time two lighted tapers in his
hands. When the godfather, arriving at the house, sets foot
upon the threshold of the room where the mother is waiting,
her eyes moist and her heart palpitating with a great joy, she
kneels down before the godfather and prostrates herself in
token of respect and humiliation. Then the godfather lays her

3i6 RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. [June,

child in her arms. The scene is a most touching one. Scarcely
t have the priests quitted the room than a family dispute com-
mences among the sisters for the right to kiss the child first,,
since to this their great Christian faith attaches a deep value.
The same day all the priests and the family of the godfather
are invited to supper and to spend the evening at the home
of the new-born. The child's father considers it an honor to
wait upon his guests at table, and never thinks of sitting down
himself.

During forty days the mother must keep her room, unless,
indeed, she obtain permission to walk from time to time in
that part of the house not exposed to the sun. The fortieth
day completed, she is led by her mother to the church, carry-
ing her child in her arms. She waits at the door of the sacristy
until the priest comes to lead her before the high altar, after
having blest her and her child. On this occasion the young
mother must make an offering, which nowadays consists of a
package of wax tapers, though formerly it was rich Persian
rugs. This is a figure of the presentation of the child Jesus
by his mother the Blessed Virgin in the Temple at Jerusalem,,
where the pious memory of it is still preser-ved. After this
ceremony, always assisted at with special devotion, the young
mother must go to visit the godfather in order to acknowledge
her gratitude by respectfully kissing his hand.

During the forty days which follow the birth of the infant
great care is taken lest it should be left lying either in its
cradle or any other place while a funeral is passing before the
house or under the windows of its room. On these occasions
some one must quickly take it in his or her arms and stand
thus holding it until the crowd has entirely passed. To this
matter such marked importance is attached that even though
the little one be plunged in a deep sleep they will take it up
at the risk of waking it, and carry it about despite its plaintive
cries (this and other similar customs have remained among our
population from the idolatrous times, and among the upper
classes they are disappearing little by little).

The wishes and greetings addressed to the parents on the
occasion of a birth have considerable significance : " Good
news," "May the little one's coming be a good omen," "May
the Most High render us capable of raising it in the shadow
of its parents." And the answers given are : " May your tongue
be always in good health," " May the good God bless you ac-
cording to your desire.".

i goo.] A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. 317

A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN.

BY JOHN A. FOOTE.

! N the morning of Thanksgiving Day, 1878, when
I called at the Star office I found that I had
been assigned to interview Mr. Bradshaw and
learn as much as possible about the strike at his
Johnstown mines. I ventured to say that most
offices were closed on legal holidays ; but Briggs, the city edi-
tor, said that Mr. Bradshaw could easily be found at his office,
as he did not observe holidays. I found that Briggs was right.
Bradshaw's dingy office was a scene of clerical activity ; the
clerks were busy counting out coin and bills and making out
pay-rolls, and only one person about the premises seemed to
realize that it was a holiday and a day for thanksgiving. This
solitary exception was a young man who sat tilted back in one
of the large office chairs smoking a cigarette in bold defiance
of the time-stained pasteboard sign that announced to the visi-
tor " Smoking is forbidden." I recognized the young ma^i as
Alfred Miller, Mr. Bradshaw's secretary, a rising society favorite
and man-about-town, whose handsome face and well-knit figure
were well known in the theatre lobbies and fashionable cafs.
One of the clerks noticed me standing at the wicket that
separated the business office from the room where persons who
had trivial business were forced to wait ; and, when he ushered
me into the private office, Mr. Miller greeted me with a most
gracious smile and requested me to be seated.

" Mr. Bradshaw will be in before long," he said. Then he
glanced at my card. " Oh ! I suppose you have come in rela-
tion to the strike."

" Yes," I answered. " It is rumored that this is the begin-
ning of a new general strike of the miners of the anthracite
region, and we think that Mr. Bradshaw may be able to give
us some valuable information in regard to the cause of the
strike, the means to be employed in settling it, and its proba-
ble duration."

" Rather a queer old gentleman, Mr. Bradshaw," said Miller
reflectively. " Now, from my knowledge of his character, I
think that he will let the strike settle itself, for he is anything
but a diplomat. He acts as he feels, and sometimes he does
not feel altogether pleasant in the present instance, for example.

3i8 A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. [June,

But I suppose we all have some bad habit. Mine is cigarettes.
Won't you have one of these Egyptians? They're genuine."

He extended a box of cigarettes to me with another dis-
play of his pearly teeth, and indeed I was no longer surprised
that Mr. Bradshaw had taken so companionable a person into
his office. The longer I talked with him the more I was im-
pressed with his many-sided, variable character.

He was remarkably well informed, and had that knowledge
of human nature which can only be gained by personal expe-
rience in the world. I did not feel the moments passing until
I noticed the clerks suddenly showing a remarkable attention to
business. Then I heard a door open behind^me, and a short, red-
faced, and corpulent gentleman entered, very much out of breath.

"Morning! morning!" exclaimed Mr. Bradshaw, for it was
the head of the firm who had entered. Mr. Miller smiled a
courteous "Good-morning" and assisted the old man in remov-
ing his heavy coat.

" This gentleman has come to interview you about the
strike," said Mr. Miller.

The coal operator took my card, glanced at it, and then
turned his back on me and began to open the letters which
lay on his desk. Fifteen minutes elapsed and then he wheeled
in his chair and ejaculated "Well?" in a tone that was devoid
of the slightest tinge of amiability.

He could not frighten me, though, and I briefly explained
my mission and asked him if there was any truth in the rumor
that a general strike was contemplated.

" Nothing of the kind," he said. " It 's all bosh, this talk
about a strike. Does n't amount to that ! " He snapped his
fat fingers by way of emphasis. " This ' strike,' as you call it,
is nothing more than a little jealousy among the men about
their foreman. He is a little better and brighter and more
sober than the rest of them, and consequently they don't like him."

" I understand that the men have made a statement in which
they claim that this foreman, Davis, cheats them in the matter
of tonnage, and that, being forced to trade at the company
store, where high prices are charged, they are nearly destitute.
Is this true ? " L asked.

Mr. Bradshaw grew angry, and his face became purplish
with suppressed rage. "It is a lie!" he exclaimed; "a con-
founded lie the scoundrels ! They 're treated far better than
they deserve ; and but for my store half of the beggars would
starve. They spend their money for whisky and run in debt
at the store. / have to feed them, and then they abuse me."

1900.] A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. 319

" So you will not consent to the discharge of Davis and the
abandonment of the store?" I said.

" No ! You may say positively that I will not. I shall con-
tinue to conduct my business according to my own ideas, and
will not take any dictation from those whom I employ. To-
morrow I shall go in person to Johnstown and pay these men.
I shall tell them specifically what I have told you. And any
man who fails to return to work by next Monday will be dis-
charged and black-listed."

Mr. Miller up to this time had stood at the window drum-
ming with his fingers on the dusty glass, apparently not inter-
ested in our conversation, but at the conclusion of Mr. Brad-
shaw 's vigorous ultimatum he turned abruptly towards us and said :
" Did I understand you, sir, to say you intended to take the
miners' pay to Johnstown personally ? "

" Yes," said the coal operator. " I will relieve you of that
duty to-morrow. After I have talked to the men and paid
them, I shall go to Carbondale to attend to that matter of the
lease of the Blue Hill tract. Mrs. Hackett, who owns the
tract, insists that a guarantee of $4,000 in bank notes must be
placed with her as a preliminary. Mr. Murphy!" In answer
to this summons a pleasant-looking young man appeared from
behind a large ledger. "You will accompany me to-morrow;
9:12, D. & H."

" Very well, sir," said the clerk, and he again disappeared
behind the large account book.

Mr. Miller walked over from the window and seated himself
opposite us.

" Well," he said, " it will please me very well to have a
holiday to-morrow. I rather promised to eat my Thanksgiving
dinner with a friend at Carbondale, and on account of this
arrangement of yours I will have a chance to remain over-night.
Still, my own wishes are only of secondary importance where
your interests are at stake, Mr. Bradshaw, and I think that it
would be hardly prudent to send $24,000 to a disaffected min-
ing town with only two men as an escort. If you wish it, I
will remain in town and accompany yourself and Murphy to-
morrow."

" Pooh ! pooh ! man," said Mr. Bradshaw ; " you talk as if
we were living out West. I 've been sending money that way
for years and never had any trouble about it. Admitting that
any robber could overpower two armed men, he would be cap-
tured at Scranton or Carbondale within an hour. Escape
would be impossible."

320 A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. [June,

"Not necessarily," rejoined Miller. "He could get the drop
on you in ambush and escape to the farming region over the
mountains beyond Johnstown. The perfect maze of roads,
without railroad or telegraphic communication, would make an
ideal hiding place for a highwayman."

Mr. Bradshaw laughed a thing that I had not thought him
capable of doing. " Ton my word, Miller, you would make
an excellent dime novelist. You have a wonderful imagina-
tion," he said. Then turning to me, as though he had for-
gotten my presence, his jolly humor suddenly passed. " I have
nothing further to say regarding the trouble of my men," he
said. " I have told you what I intend to do. Mr. Miller's
.arguments have not changed me."

He rose while he was speaking, and his eyes wandered in
-the direction of the door. I took the hint and my hat at the
same time, and passed out.

" Wait a minute," called Mr. Miller after me. He joined
me and we walked as far as the Star office. He was on his
way to the railroad station. I liked him more than ever, and
promised to call on him at his lodgings, but subsequent events
rforbade my doing so.

That evening I called to see Miss Dorothy Bradshaw.
Miss Dorothy was a niece of the coal operator, and I had met
:her several times at the society affairs which I reported for the
Star. She lived with her mother in a quiet corner of the
town. Though her mother's circumstances were far from pros-
perous, Miss Dorothy, through her family name, her beauty,
.and the general belief that she would inherit her bachelor
uncle's fortune, had become almost a leading society belle, and
possessed many admirers.

Truly it might be supposed that I, a poor reporter, would
have little chance among the gilt-edged suitors that surrounded
her; but, nevertheless, I fancied that my company did not dis-
please her half so much as it did her mother. Proof of this I
obtained when I put a very momentous question to her.
Proof of her mother's displeasure I obtained by telling her of
the question which I had put to Miss Dorothy. I can see
Mrs. Bradshaw now as she stood drawn up with a fine ex-
pression of scorn on her stern features; her black silk dress
and straight white hair emphasizing the effect of stiffness and
respectability that her appearance always conveyed.

" The love that " laughs at locksmiths " fairly shrieks at

parental commands, and my visit on the evening I mention

,was not my first one after I had been forbidden the house.

1900.] A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. 321

But little did I think that night that the events of the follow-
ing day would have such a direct bearing on my circumstances
and my happiness.

Youth is naturally buoyant and sanguine, but in my wildest
dreams I never conceived the good fortune that would befall
me as a result of the happenings of that eventful November
morning. What these events were I will briefly relate.

On the morning of November twenty-ninth Mr. Murphy,
in the presence of Mr. Bradshaw, placed the amount of the
pay-roll, $20,000, and also $4,000 to be used as a payment on
the lease of the Blue Hill tract, in two large canvas bags, and
both men walked to the D. & H. depot, where they boarded the
train which left for Johnstown at 9:12. Johnstown is a station
at which trains stop only on signal, and when they had
alighted both men cocked their revolvers and placed them in
their coat pockets ready for use. They did not meet any
person or see any animate object except a team of gaunt
horses attached to a dilapidated wagon that stood at the cross-
roads near the fork that led to Johnstown. The owners of the
team were not to be seen, and the wagon appeared to be filled
with hay and apple barrels. Despite this they grasped their
revolvers, gave a close, scrutinizing inspection to the vehicle,
and then, reassured by its deserted appearance, turned up the
road towards the mining town.

Now that the end of the journey was in sight Mr. Brad-
shaw gave over grumbling, and Murphy whistled a bar of " Oh
dear! what can the matter be?"

" Hands up ! " came in a sharp, commanding voice from behind.

For a very brief instant Mr. Bradshaw turned his head
and saw standing in the barrels on the dilapidated wagon two
masked and bearded men with levelled Winchesters. Then, as
their bullets " zipped " in lightning succession through his silk
hat, he involuntarily dropped his bag and obeyed the com-
mand. Both men \yere searched and their weapons taken away
from them, and afterwards they heard the chink of the money
as the bags were tossed into the wagon.

"We regret very much that we are .forced to submit you
to this indignity, sir," said the spokesman of the robbers.
'Nothing short of dire necessity would have driven us to it.
A train for Scranton will be along in a couple of hours. It
will be hardly safe for you to venture your life by going to
Johnstown, for there is a labor agitator there and if you go
without the money it will surely go hard with you. We wish
VOL. LXXI. 21

322 A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. [June,

you no harm and would gladly stay to protect you, but our
time at present is worth perhaps $12,000 an hour. Farewell!"

The gaunt horses started away on a gallop, and as the
highwaymen and their treasure faded from view Mr. Bradshaw,
in mingled wrath, injured pride, and bitter regret, burst into
tears. To go to the mines now would be dangerous, and in
the end both agreed that the only means of capturing the
fugitives would be to follow them with a mounted posse, which
might be secured at Olyphant, the next village on the railroad
to Scranton. They walked down to the station and waited
with anxiety the coming of the express. At last the whistle
of the train was heard and they signalled the engineer to stop.
In asking some questions regarding the best method of pro-
cedure in regard to the contemplated pursuit Mr. Bradshaw
was forced to tell the conductor of the robbery. But he cau-
tioned him to say nothing about it, and said he wished the
matter kept as quiet as possible. When the train stopped at
Olyphant, Mr. Bradshaw prepared to alight. He told Murphy
to go on to the city and report at police headquarters, and
was about to leave the car when he felt a light touch on his
shoulder.

" It 's too bad," said a familiar voice. The coal operator
turned and confronted Miller, his secretary, who continued :

" I just heard about it from the conductor. Was up kind
of late at Carbondale last night, you know, and I was taking
a little snooze in the smoker when he told me the news.
What do you intend to do? I'll get off here with you, I
guess. Two heads are better than one, and I think we can
get ahead of them yet if we go about it in the proper way."

The cool and confident manner in which the young man
took hold of the situation was a great relief to Mr. Bradshaw,
and had he not obtained some such assistance he would have
collapsed. With a new reliance born of the companionship of
Miller he spoke o{ what he intended to do.

"That's good," said the young man. "But you are not in
a fit condition to attend to the affair. I'll take care of the
matter, and you may go to the city. This excitement has been
too much for you, and you need a rest."

Mr. Bradshaw made a feeble remonstrance, but the train
bell began to ring and Miller led him back to his seat.

" It 's true ; I 'm too nervous," he said. " I feel sure that
you will do everything that can be done. Take this."

He handed out a wallet filled with bank notes, and the

1900.] A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. 323

young man grasped his hand in final parting, and rushed out
as the train began to move.

" Let me hear from you," said Mr. Bradshaw from the car
window.

"You shall have a letter in 'the morning explaining every-
thing that has been done," said Miller, and he waved his hand
reassuringly as the train moved away.

News travels rapidly, and, despite Mr. Bradshaw's efforts to
keep the matter secret, rumors of the robbery were circulated
in Scranton shortly after the arrival of the train which carried
the unfortunate capitalist. Anxious for a " scoop " for our
morning edition, I hurried to Mr. Bradshaw's house. The ser-
vant told me that he was ill and could see no one. The
police could not or would not tell me anything, and I was at a
loss for material to weave the story which I had promised for
the local page. But a happy thought came to my assistance :
Murphy had accompanied Mr. Bradshaw ; I would see him.

I knew James Murphy very well, and when I called at his
residence I found him ; but his honest Celtic face wore a wor-
ried look, and he was not as buoyant as usual. His cheeks
were flushed and his eyes were sickly-looking and bloodshot.

" It 's nothing but a cold," he said, in answer to my in-
quiries about his health.

I proceeded to the business which had caused my visit. At
first he would not tell me anything, but after some coaxing I
succeeded in securing the more important facts. And one
thing of the greatest importance I learned : Mr. Bradshaw in-
tended to go to Johnstown that evening to tell the news of the
robbery of the pay-roll, and promise them that they would
receive their due as soon as a new roll should be completed.
He would go suitably armed and would leave at 5 : 20, Murphy
said. This was a chance not to be missed ; so I too was at
the station a few minutes before train-time and saw the old
gentleman enter the waiting-room. He peered about as if he
were seeking some one, and after a little while a messenger
boy entered and handed him a note. He read it hastily and
placed it in his pocket with an impatient gesture.

I conjectured that the contents of the note related to the
mysterious robbery, and I made up my mind to accost him.
He did not recognize me at first, so I recalled my interview
of the previous day and asked him if he had any news re-
garding the whereabouts of the robbers.

324 A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. [June,

" No," said he, shaking his head. " Miller has charge of
the pursuit. It is likely they will make for the farming regions
and I do not expect any news until to-morrow."

He pulled out his watch and looked at it, and nervously
fumbled with the chain for a time. Then he spoke in evident
vexation :

" I intended going back to Johnstown this evening to talk
to the men, and Murphy promised to meet me here, but in-
stead I have a note from his wife saying he is ill with pneu-
monia. I wish Miller was here."

"Did you want Mr. Murphy simply as an escort?" I ven-
tured to ask.

The old man nodded an affirmative. " It 's hardly safe to
venture there alone, they say."

Here was my opportunity. " I am detailed to go to Johns-
town to-night," I said, <4 and if my presence will afford you
any protection, you need not postpone your trip for want of a
companion."

The old man was greatly relieved. " I will consider it a
favor," he said earnestly. " Are you armed ? "

" Yes," I replied, and I showed him the handle of my service-
able little weapon. Mr. Bradshaw's look of irresolution vanish-
ed, and he led the way to the train with a firm, elastic stride.

It was growing dark when we arrived at our destination,
and the gloomy aspect of the mountain side was heightened
by the approaching twilight. Mr. Bradshaw trudged by my
side in silence until we had turned up the cross-road, and then
he said :

" Here's where the deed was committed, and "

He stopped walking with such suddenness that he almost
tripped me. I looked at his face and saw that it had grown
ashy pale, and that he was mumbling something which his
trembling lips refused to express. He held my right arm in a
vise-like grip, and I feared that he had suddenly grown mad.
Again he attempted to speak, and raising his trembling arm
pointed in the direction of the settlement. The sky was illu-
mined with a smoky glare, and as I listened I heard a faint
cry of "Fire." I assisted the old man, who was on the verge
of collapse, to a seat by the side of the road. Gradually his
excitement passed away and he was able to express himself.

'/ It 's the coal-breaker building," he said. " The beggars
have set fire to it, and I can get no insurance on account of
the improvements. I am surely ruined now. Let us hurry.

1900.] A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. 325

Perhaps we can save it." He attempted to rise, but I restrained
him and tried to reason with him. While we were talking the
glow faded from the sky and then disappeared entirely. The
fire had either been extinguished or had burned out. Mr.
Bradshaw rose to his feet.

" I am going," he said.

Seeing that he was determined to risk it, I followed him.
When we had once more reached the middle of the road I
noticed a moving point of light some distance in front of us,
towards the town. Behind it was a confused, dark blur. The
light was approaching us, and after awhile we saw the blur re-
solve itself into a group of men. We could hear their voices
and they seemed to be engaged in an altercation. Fearing that
they might be some anarchistic strikers, I drew Mr. Bradshaw
into a clump of bushes that grew along the wayside, and we
awaited their approach. The men were dressed like miners ;
and the one in front, who carried the lantern, was older and
more respectable-looking than his fellows. They walked in a
kind of a circle, and in the centre of the crowd was a sullen, red-
bearded chap with manacled hands. Occasionally he stopped,
and then the others would push or drag him forward, while he
resisted with a horrible flow of profanity. I wondered at the
cause of this strange proceeding, and in order to catch the
drift of their conversation I came partly out of my hiding-
place. The crowd stopped abruptly, directly in front of me,
and the leaders engaged in a consultation. " They must have
seen me," I said ; and while I cursed my rashness, I turned to
warn Mr. Bradshaw. He was nowhere to be seen, and must
have slipped away while I was making my observations. Just
then a noise from the group in the road drew my attention,
and when I looked to ascertain the cause of it a feeling of
dismay seized me. Mr. Bradshaw stood in the middle of the
road directly in the glare of the lantern. His head was bared,
and while I looked he raised his hand as if to command
silence before he would speak. I grasped my weapon with a
determination to have a part in the fray if the old man should
be molested in any way ; while the men in the road appeared
to be fully as much surprised as I was, for they stared at Mr.
Bradshaw and whispered among themselves. Meanwhile the
red-haired prisoner took advantage of their confusion, and by a
violent effort broke away from the ring that surrounded him
and ran directly into my arms. I grasped him about the
waist and together we rolled out of the bushes into the road.

326 A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. [June,

My sudden appearance created nearly as much astonishment
as did Mr. Bradshaw's, and a half a dozen pairs of willing
hands assisted in loosening me from the prisoner's unwelcome
embrace. When he had been secured again, I looked to Mr.
Bradshaw to see if he was safe. He was earnestly engaged in
conversation with the old man, whom he addressed as Mr. Hall,
and had grasped his hand while he fired questions at him with
the rapidity of a repeating gun. Mr. Hall was too agitated to
answer. ' Thank God ! thank God ! that you have come," he
repeated several times. Then he continued :

" I have worked for you for twenty-two years, but never
did I see such scenes as I witnessed to-day. This morning
that fellow that we are having such a tussle with came to the
town and said he was an organizer of the United Mine Work-
ers. I placed no confidence, in him and suspected him as an
impostor, but he succeeded in gathering a big meeting near
the coal-breaker. He made a speech and said that this was
the beginning of a strike that would extend all over the country,
and it all depended on us remaining out. Some of us recom-
mended caution, but we could not be heard, and when they
voted on the question our voices were lost in the roar of
* Ayes ! ' In the end some of the rougher element proposed
burning the breaker, and after another speech by the agitator
they were ready for any deviltry. Just then your messenger
came with the pay "

Mr. Bradshaw started. " What messenger ? " he said.

" The man whom you sent with the pay he looked like a
farmer. Well, when he came and I read your letter to them,
it changed everything."

Mr. Bradshaw's face was a study. Amazement was written
in every line of his features. " What letter do you mean,
man?" he said. "What are you talking about?"

" The letter about the pay, you know, saying that you sent
$3,800 extra money to give a present of $8 to each man for
the time lost, and $500 to myself for my faithful services, as
you called it. I have the letter some place. Ah ! here it is ;
and may the Lord bless you for your kindness ! "

Mr. Bradshaw took the letter and held it up to the lantern.

" Wonderful!" I heard him mutter. "Wonderful! It's my
writing."

."When I told them what you said," continued Hall, "they
voted to declare the strike off, and gave three cheers for you,
AH they asked was for you to discharge Davis and not forc<

1900.] A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. 327

them to trade at the store, and you gave them more than they
asked. But I have another letter for you that I had nearly
forgotten. The fellow said Mr. Miller sent it."

The coal operator grasped it eagerly. " This will explain
matters," he said as he tore the envelope. I turned to the
talkative Hall while Mr. Bradshaw was reading.

" Who was that fellow that I had the tussle with ? " I inquired.

"Oh! he is the labor agitator," said Hall. "He and a few
of the rough element got some whisky in them and set fire
to the breaker after the meeting. We are taking him to
Scranton "

A groan from Mr. Bradshaw interrupted us. I turned in
time to see him stagger and place his hands out helplessly to
save himself from falling. We raised him up and Hall gave
him some whisky. In his fall he dropped the letter which he
had been reading, and I picked it up and placed it in my
pocket, intending to give it to him when he revived.

" I feel very well now," said he in answer to our queries.
" I think we had better leave for the station."

In the train I tried to connect the scattered threads that I
had discovered, and weave some hypothesis to explain the
strange events that had occurred during the day. I placed my
hand in my coat pocket to find my scratch pad and my fingers
closed around the letter which Mr. Bradshaw had dropped. I
had forgotten all about it, but now it flashed on me that here
was the key to the mystery. What a " scoop " it would be to
the Star. But then my manhood got the better of my reporto-
rial instinct, and I determined to find out all I could without
taking advantage of the contents of the note. Mr. Bradshaw
was to all appearances deeply engrossed in a newspaper.

" Rather prompt detective work, that of Mr. Miller, was it
not ?" I said. " Old Sleuth and Pinkerton have a rival. Where
are the robbers ? "

The coal operator looked annoyed and his eyes shifted un-
easily. "There has been no robbery," he said.

"That is not what Mr. Miller said in his letter," I answered.

This was a chance shot, but it struck a vital part evidently.
Mr. Bradshaw grew pale and red by turns, and nervously fum-
bled through his pockets. Then it dawned on him that the
precious document was not in his possession. " Then you saw
the letter?" he said savagely.

" I have it in my pocket," I replied coolly.

He was certain that I had read it when I said this. Looking

328 A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. [June,

at him I feared that he would grow weak again as he had done
at Johnstown. His fingers twitched nervously and his head
sunk on his breast in dejection. I pitied him ; his words that
followed changed my sentiments.

" I '11 give you $1,000 for that letter," he whispered. I looked
at him in contemptuous silence.

" It belongs to me," he said hoarsely. " Give it to me ! "

He spoke in a tone that attracted the attention of the pas-
sengers, and several men turned in their seats to learn the
cause of the disturbance.

" Please give it to me," he said in a pleading and almost
inaudible voice. " You are young and talented," he said,
" and I can give you an opportunity to rise and be a credit
to your name. You know that my honor is involved in that
document. I pledge you that if you return it to me I will
treat you like a son."

While he was talking a desperate plan came into my head.
I handed him one of my cards.

" Do you remember that name ? " I asked.

He threw the card on the floor. " This is no time for trifling,"
he said. " Name your price for that letter and your silence."

"The name on that card is the name of a young man who
loves and is beloved by your niece," I said impressively. " Some
time ago you and her mother forbade us to see each other ; but
this injunction has augmented our affections instead of having
smothered them. Now, Mr. Bradshaw, the price of my silence,
and the delivery of this document, is that you consent to my
marriage with your niece."

My proposition was so daring and unexpected that it
startled the old man into a fit of rage. Then, as he saw that
his anger had no effect, he commenced to reason with me. As
a clincher to his other argument he said :

" But you are too poor."

"You have wisely observed that it lies in your power to
remedy my fortunes," I replied. " As your nephew I should
have a better claim to your patronage than otherwise."

He did not answer immediately, and it was plain that a
struggle was taking place within him. Pride was the domi-
nant element in his nature, and he dreaded the contingency of
having the contents of the letter given to the public. He
knew that I had the power to destroy his good name, and
although his stubborn, bull-dog nature rebelled against it, he
was at last forced to the conclusion that I had outwitted him.

1900.] A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. 329

He reached out his hand slowly, as if the effort caused him
pain. " Give me the letter," he said. " I agree to your terms."
We shook hands, and I handed him the much-desired epistle.

" What shall I say in the Star about the robbery ? " I asked.

Mr. Bradshaw thought for a few moments. " Say that the
thieves were captured by Mr. Miller," he said. " You may also
state that the strike has been amicably settled, and that I
have agreed to the conditions which were imposed by the men.
Of course you know the real facts."

Of course I did not, but I did not say so. The following day
the Star had the entire story of the robbery and the thrilling
capture of the thieves by Mr. Miller. The settlement of the
strike was noted, and there was an editorial headed "A Philan-
thropic Employer," in which Mr. Bradshaw's generous conduct
was lauded to the skies. Mr. Bradshaw was as good as his
word, and secured me a position in a law office a few days
later, and to his influence more than my ability do I owe my
subsequent success. It is not necessary to relate here what
Dorothy said, or how we acted when I told her ; nor will I
chronicle the feelings of her estimable mother, whom I have
since learned greatly to respect and admire ; let it be enough
to say that our engagement was announced, and that the wed-
ding took place a week after I was admitted to the bar.

I did not learn the nature of the contents of the mysteri-
ous letter until some years later, after the death of
Mr. Bradshaw, although I always suspected that Miller was
connected with the robbery in some unusual way. The letter
lies before me now, yellow and soiled with age. Nothing
could make me part with it, for I regard it as my talisman of
success.

NOVEMBER 29, 1878.

MY DEAR MR. BRADSHAW: By the time you receive this
letter I shall be far from Scranton. Regarding this robbery
for I suppose that is what you call it I wish it to be under-
stood that I am entirely to blame.

In company with a comrade I hired a farmer's wagon at
Olyphant, drove to Johnstown, and waited for you at the cross-
road. After we had taken the money we returned to Johns-
town, delivered the pay, and left the letters for you. There I
gave my comrade some of the money to repay him for his
trouble it was a small amount about $100, I think. After
this we drove to Olyphant, where I boarded the train and met
you. You will be at no loss for the money that you advanced

330 A BENEVOLENT HIGHWAYMAN. [June.

to me there, as it is fully covered by my unpaid salary. I had
several reasons for acting as I did, and in order to understand
them you will have to know something of my past. Several
years ago, when I lived in one of the Southern States, I was
convicted of a forgery and sent to prison. I succeeded in ef-
fecting my escape and ca'me North, with the determination of
living down my past life. How well I succeeded no one knows
better than yourself; but last week my feeling of security was
disturbed by a warning which I received from a companion of
the old days. I was told that detectives were on my track,
and I had already determined to flee when I heard you speak
of the impossibility of committing this robbery. But I wanted
to prove to you that the deed could be done. However, as
there is honor even among thieves, my sense of honor forbade
me to take the hard-earned wages of your employees. As long
as you are not above wronging your men, you are a thief; and,
of course, I could not rob you a fellow-thief. So I took the
amount of the pay-roll, gave it to the men to whom it be-
longed, and also distributed in equal small sums the $4,000 be-
longing to the Blue Hill transaction, which indeed was but a
small portion of the large- sum which you had unjustly kept
from them.

In this transaction you have not lost a cent. In fact, you
are the gainer. By an investment of $4,000 you have pre-
served your property from destruction, put an end to an ex-
pensive strike, and thus saved a loss of what in the aggregate
would amount to about $60,000. Besides, you have also gained
the devotion of your employees and the good will of the
community.

I realize that I am not in the proper position to offer you
advice, but nevertheless I will say this : " Justice is the only
true bond between capital and labor, and it alone can conserve
their mutual and dependent interests.'' An adherence to this
principle by a due recognition of the rights of your employees
will ultimately redound to your benefit.

Do not think that I forget the favors you have shown me ;
I remember them and am truly grateful to you.

Respectfully, ALFRED MILLER.

The letter needs no further explanation. And wherever its
author may be to-day I hope that he is as happy and as suc-
cessful as I am. He deserves it, for he is a nineteenth cen-
tury wonder, a rara avis A Benevolent Highwayman.

CHARLES FORBES DE MONTALEMBERT.

MONTALEMBERT, AND HIS VISIT TO
O'CONNELL.

BY REV. JOSEPH GORDIAN DALEY.

N the cemetery of the Rue Picpus at Paris stands
a tomb which for size and splendor makes itself
remarkable beyond all the other monuments of
that historic burying-ground. The ornamental
carvings along the sides are elaborate ; every
detail is wrought with an exquisite delicacy which appeals at
once to mind and feelings. There in a sculptured grouping
are represented a multitude of saintly personages ; in that
teeming pilgrimage one discerns the abbot's cowl, the palmer's
staff, the prelate's trailing robe. It is the artist's conception

332 MONTALEMBERT, AND HIS VISIT TO O'CONNELL. [June,

of the Monks of the West a fitting tableau for the resting-
place of that noble-hearted layman, the Comte de Montalem-
bert. Near him sleeps the Marquis de Lafayette ; his wife,
Adrienne de Noailles, beside him, and their son, George
Washington Lafayette, in the adjoining grave. The remains of
over two thousand nobles, guillotined during the Terror, are
interred pell-mell in the same little cemetery, which at that
time was but an abandoned field.

The life of Charles Forbes de Montalembert is in one re-
spect a tale of two cities, for it began in London and closed
in Paris. The century was but a decade old when on April
15, 1810, Charles was born, thirteen days after the ceremony
at the Louvre which made Napoleon the husband of Marie
Louise. His father, an inflexible aristocrat, fought with Conde"
against the armies of the Republic ; for the Montalemberts,
from the days of the Crusades to those of the Seven Years'
War, had battled in the service of the king ; and to be false
to traditions is like disloyalty to one's own honor. " There
are four gentlemen of France who will combat in the lists,"
said Francis the First, " and hold the day against all comers.
They are : myself, Sansac, Montalembert, and La Chasteignerie."
Charles was naturally proud of the valor of his ancestors. In
the preface of his masterpiece he writes : " I am the first of
my family to do battle with the pen alone ; but may that pen
become a sword and may it be wielded with honor in the
holy contest of conscience and truth ! " That pen insured him
his diploma of immortality ; but other gifts a voice of tren-
chant oratory and a genius for tactful management insured
him success in life, rendering him at thirty-three the brilliant
spokesman of the clergy, the leader of the entire French epis-
copate, and making him all his life long a distinguished figure
in the legislative councils of his nation.

The fortunes of the father of Montalembert did not advance
with those of the empire. Attached to the cause of the Bour-
bons, he willingly prolonged in their behalf the years of his
exile, and during the term of his ostracism he took up a resi-
dence in England. There he married Elizabeth Forbes, a
woman of Scottish descent. Her father, James Forbes, was an
erudite old man who had spent many years and accumulated
much money in India. Life had been not unfruitful to him,
yet he looked forward to its crowning joy in the opportunity
of bringing up his grandchild. When Montalembert was only
one year old the grandsire dedicated to him his Oriental
Memoirs, and hardly could the child lisp when the same fond

1900.] MONTALEMBERT, AND HIS VISIT TO O'CONNELL. 333

admirer began to teach him the rudiments of Latin and Greek.
In the sixth year of the boy's life they travelled together to
Paris, the elder gravely warning his companion of the frivolity
of " a people who frequent the theatre in preference to the
church." The capital he designates " a world devoid of souls.
Its denizens are ephemeral beings, absorbed in their pleasures
of a day, heedless of the future, and inclined to shove God
Almighty into the deep background." Duty is the one thing
he lays stress upon; it is the motto he recommends, the prin-
ciple he seeks to inculcate.

Three years later, in 1819, Montalembert's father, now re-
stored to honor in his own country since the return of the
Bourbons, sent urgent word to the devoted grandparent : " My
desire is that Charles come hither to receive his education,
since his destiny is to be the career of a man in France."
Separation cost the old man bitter pangs. The family were
just then in Stuttgart, where the father figured in the French
diplomatic corps. James Forbes decided to go along with the
boy to the court of Wurtemberg, and by letter he emphasized
the wish nearest his heart : " Let us unite our efforts to pre-
serve this young soul from the contamination of that corrupt
philosophy which unhappily at this period is doing so much to
pervert the mind of France." Upon the way he grew sad and
moody ; at Aix-la-Chapelle a sudden heart attack was experi-
enced, and he died in the arms of his beloved young Charles ;
he was seventy-one years of age and died as he had lived, an
austere Anglican in creed. His daughter, the Countess of
Montalembert, abjured Protestantism a few years later and was
received into the church by the Abbe" Busson, of the Lyce"e
Bourbon, where Charles had become a student.

Sainte-Beuve tells us that Montalembert in his youth took
the oath of, Hannibal against the University of France, swear-
ing toward it a vow of unremitting enmity. The univer-
sity was not one mere institution of learning such as we
usually understand by the word, but rather the entire educa-
tional system of the nation. Napoleon had created the uni-
versity with the idea of forming the mind of young France in
accordance with imperial notions. Under it the educational
system became a state monopoly. It divided the work into
three parts : the primary schools, the lyce"es, or high-schools,
and the colleges proper, together with the professional schools.
The supervision was stringent and complete. One or two
religious orders were, with certain restrictions, permitted to
serve as educators; they could set up one petit stminaire in

334 MONTALEMBERT, AND HIS ViSIT TO O'CONNELL. [June,

each diocese, but beyond these the grand seminaries/, e., the
schools of Catholic theology were the only institutions of
learning that had any degree of freedom. Napoleon had strong
confidence in this weapon of imperial despotism ; he did not
care what philosophic notions the youth of France imbibed,
provided they were taught to be good subjects of the empire.
The year 1814 saw the temporary abolition of the university ;
but, resurrected after Elbe, the system was accepted by Louis
XVIII. at the close of the Hundred Days, and was continued
by Charles X. It was deplorable at any period to have the
education of France, from the primary bench to the highest
post-graduate class-room, controlled by free-thinkers; still, under
the two returned Bourbons, the church had considerable to
say and the utterances of her spokesmen on the subject in
point - did not pass unheeded. When the July Revolution of
1830, however, brought to the head of the government a body
of men who were fanatic enemies of the church, the propa-
ganda of unbelief was undertaken with a satanic determination
which excited wide spread alarm among the Catholics of
France. Then arose that splendid band of enthusiastic fighters,
vowed to rescue the youth of the land from moral and in-
tellectual ruin. " We are the sons of the Crusaders," exclaimed
Montalembert, "and we shall not recoil before the children
of Voltaire." He found himself a lieutenant to combatants of
more experience, men already famous in the world : Lamen-
nais, not yet fallen, but rather honored as perhaps the most
respected churchman of his day ; Lacordaire, astonishing the
age with the eloquence and charity of a new St. Bernard ;
Ozanam, Ampere, and the Abb Gerbet, all men of distinction
in the sphere of learning and belles-lettres.

In his career as a collegian Charles met with a few precious
souls whom the corrupt ideas of the times failed to vitiate.
To one of these he writes long afterwards : " Your memory is
never more present to my recollection than when my thoughts
have soared to Almighty God." At the debating-room he
loved to declaim the speeches of Burke and Fox, his com-
panions cheering him deliriously ; they seemed to appreciate
the eloquence of those masterpieces, even though they did
not comprehend the language. In his vacations Charles went
to his father's in Stuttgart and there picked up German and
Polish, speaking them with fluency and translating with master-
ful grace. A poem by Mickiewicz which Charles afterward
rendered into French under the title of Ptte'rins Polonais was
published and the popularity of the translation seemed certain

MONTALEMBERT, AND HIS VISIT TO O'CONNELL. 335

when the announcement came that Rome had put the original
work upon the Index. Therewith Montalembert went out and
buying up the entire edition of the translation cast it into the
fire. The episode shows the strong faith of the great man.

In his eighteenth year Charles went to Sweden, where his
father was minister of France at the court of Stockholm.
Bernadotte, a soldier of Napoleon and a Gascon who could
outbrag De Bergerac and, if we credit Bourrienne, outswear
Falstaff, was then occupying the throne of Sweden under the
name of Charles John. Like Henri Quatre, he was a native of
Pau, and, like that monarch too, changed his religion on re-
ceiving the crown, Bernadotte becoming a Lutheran as Henry
had become a Catholic. At first devoted implacably to the
Revolution, Bernadotte dropped a part of his republicanism
when Napoleon made him Prince of Ponte Corvo, and re-
nounced it entirely when the land of Gustavus Adolphus
called him to its vacant throne. The sight of the hot Jacobin
turned king amused young Montalembert. " His majesty the
king," he wrote, " attended yesterday at the opening of the
National Parliament. He sat there, not understanding one
single word of the language of his subjects. At his feet the
lords of the realm and the Knights of the Seraphim sat robed in
the antique national costume, seemingly awaiting his will. His
countenance was impassive, his bearing supremely calm.
Nothing in either manner or face betrayed surprise, or even
satisfaction. He looked a stranger in the scene where he was
by all odds the main actor."

Just at this epoch, 1829, the noble figure of Daniel O'Connell
was attracting the world's attention. The generation of young
French Catholics went wild with enthusiasm at the mere men-
tion of his name. The difficulties which they themselves en-
countered in furthering the cause of religion in their own
Catholic land made them perhaps exaggerate the difficulties
which O'Connell surmounted in his struggle against the rock-
ribbed prejudice of centuries. His name became a rallying cry
to them ; his example, a gigantic encouragement ; the work of
Monsieur Oconnelle was a subject much talked about in the
salons of Mme. Re"camier and Mme. Swetchine. To win the
Emancipation after twenty years of persistent battling was
glorious and inspiring. Frederic Ozanam expressed the hope
that an O'Connell might arise in France ; and Lacordaire, on
the occasion of the panegyric which he delivered on O'Connell
in Notre Dame in 1847 trie great preacher still glowing with
the fervent enthusiasm which the fame of O'Connell had ex-

336 MONTALEMBERT, AND HIS VISIT TO O'CONNELL. [June,

cited within him eighteen years before that did not hesitate
to declare that O'Connell had been

" One of those men whom Providence prepares beforehand
in the omnipotent secrets of his councils ; a Moses delivering
the people of God from the hands of the Egyptians ; a Cyrus
bringing them from Babylon to the fields of their country ; a
Judas Machabeus maintaining their independence against the
successors of Alexander ; and at a later period, a Constantine,
a Charlemagne, a Gregory VII.: Constantine, who gave liberty
of conscience to Christians ; Charlemagne, who against the
Greek emperors, the barbarian kings, and the future itself, as-
sured the independence of the Vicar of God ; Gregory VII.,
who drew the church from the deadly grasp of feodality, illus-
trious names, the most rare and the greatest in all history !
And you may think me unwise in pronouncing them lest they
should outshine the glory of nim whom I seek to honor. For
my part, gentlemen, I have no such fear."

From his sojourn in the snows of Sweden, Montalembert
followed the course of the Irish struggle. He became impas-
sioned in his love for that unfortunate land. He desired to
write her history. In his letters he began to style her " a
noble victim bound through two centuries to her cross of sor-
row, resplendent in beauty like a martyr of old, yet bearing in
her eyes the undiminished reflex of immortal hopes. Seven
hundred thousand of her children have mingled their blood
with our own, fighting upon the battle-field in behalf of France."
The leader of the Irish race became to his mind the one stronj
hero of Christendom ; he must seek him out, meet him face t<
face, and learn from his very lips the proper plan of campaign
to undertake in regenerating a nation. Montalembert crossed
to Ireland and, buoyantly optimistic, sped on to Derrynane,
the home of the Emancipator. Everything on the way grew
charming. " A peine a-t-il respir< les brises d'Irlande," says
French writer, " qu'il se sent fortifi, transformed" "The ail
of Ireland," he remarked himself afterward in an article ii
UAvenir, "her blue sky, and her beautiful sun refreshed my
very heart " ; and he goes on to dilate upon the torrents
"where Grattan meditated his great discourses, the happy val-
leys of the He d'Emeraude, her woods, her meadows, hei
rocks, the horn of the bugler ringing out at eventide, th<
chiming of the bells, the recitation of the Litany of the Blessec
Vifgin abroad in the open fields : all these enchanted me."
He remarked in particular the contentment of the' peasantry,
and he proceeds to assert that if Dante had only known In

1900.] MONTALEMBERT, AND HIS VlSlT TO O'CONAELL. 337

land he never would have sung "combien le pain d'autrui est
amer et combien il est dur de toujours monter et de toujours
descendre 1'escalier d'une maison etrangere."

The merest rencontres of his journey became incidents which
he deemed worthy of chronicling. One day in a public convey-
ance an old man asks : " What might be your religion, sir ? "

"Catholic."

" Then I must tell you, I like you. And from what part
of the world do you come?"

" From France."

" Faith, then, I like you all the better for that ! "

A youngster takes the traveller into one of those rude,
earthen-floored village churches which even yet abound in the
south of Ireland. Comparing it with the more sumptuous tem-
ple of the Protestants in the same locality, the youth remarks :
" Well, God sees them and he sees us. We '11 get our reward
in the next world, and they will get theirs." The words
pleased Montalembert greatly. "This in the mouth of a lad
of fifteen," he wrote; "it is sublime! I could have taken him
into my arms and kissed him."

O'Connell, no doubt, was aware of his own great reputation
among English-speaking Catholics the world over. It is a fact,"
however, that he was oblivious of the infatuation with which
he inspired the strong young Catholics of France and the
Continent ; absorbed in his own special task, he paid little atten-
tion to what was going on either in the church or state in France ;
and when Montalembert, who knew by heart every detail of
O'Connell's career, found himself at the home of the councillor,
he did not tarry long in diverting the conversation to the con-
dition of the Catholics in France ; but discovered, to his amaze-
ment, that upon that topic O'Connell was listless and uninformed.

Was the young visitor disappointed in the great man of
Ireland? Mrs. Oliphant, who is so inclined to minimize the
value of O'Connell's labors, says that he certainly had reason
to be. The French authorities, however, Sainte-Beuve and
Hippolyte Castille, state that Montalembert to the end of his
life retained the same high opinion of O'Connell's services, and
looked back upon the visit to Derrynane as an event which
taught him that high political accomplishments were not to be
brought about by mere rhetoric and syllogisms. No doubt the
real O'ConneLl differed from the preconceived notion Charles
had formed of him. It reminds one of that visit to Goethe of
which Heinrich Heine wrote :

VOL. LXXI. 22

338 MONTALEMBERT, AND HIS VISIT TO O'CONNELL. [June,

" I was on the point of addressing him in Greek, but, ob-
serving that he understood German, I remarked to him in
German that the plums on the road between Weimar and Jena
were excellent. How many long winter evenings had I spent
in dreaming of all the profound things I would say to Goethe
if ever I saw him ! And when at last I did see him, I told
him that Saxon plums were delicious. And Goethe smiled."

So it was with the romantic young man of nineteen who
went to Derrynane. He found O'Connell a staid, matter-of-
fact man of fifty-four, calm and unexcited. A crowd were in
line at the door, some anxious for a private consultation, some
merely there to see and hear the central figure of the Irish
nation. O'Connell seems to have looked upon Montalembert
as a curious foreigner, and while treating him with distinction
and courtesy, he was prudent enough not to go into any ex-
travagant rhapsodies over the cause of the Church and Liberty.
Montalembert somehow had hoped for a talk on politics, a
discussion of the outlook for the church ; instead of this,
O'Connell introduced him to the members of his family, brought
him into the drawing-room, had the young folks entertain him
with song and music, and then sat down himself to read the
newspaper and glance over his correspondence. Dinner was
served, and after dinner O'Connell went out and made an address
to the people congregated in front of his home. The speech had
little regard for the formalities of literary method ; precision and
unity suffered ; yet every sentence was cheered ; the discourse,
by turns violent, sarcastic, witty, thunderous, railing, pathetic
even, won the people to whom it was spoken. The sincerity of
the speaker and his clear fixity of purpose were unmistakable.

Hardly back from Ireland, Montalembert was launched into
public life. One idea which he took away with him from the
Emerald Isle was the conviction that the church prospers best
when unfettered by any alliance with the state. Lamennais,
Lacordaire, and M. de Coux thought similarly on this very sub-
ject ; and in 1831, when they started the publication of L'Avenir,
they pressed this contention forward with impetuous vehemence ;
the motto of their paper was " Dieu et la LiberteY' It is well
known how their views met with the public disapproval of the
Holy See. Lacordaire gave in at once ; Montalembert thought
and prayed and took advice, and then gave in ; Lamennais, in his
intellectual pride, sulked and retained his errors to the last, dying
in poverty and abandonment, one of the saddest downfalls of
the century refusing even on his death-bed to go to confession.

MONTALEMBERT, AND HIS VISIT TO O'CONNELL. 339

Lacordaire rose to splendid and enduring renown by the
sermons of that great series which he preached at Notre Dame.
Montalembert too met with honors in abundance ; and through
his life of sixty years was a prominent tribune in the councils
of the national body, and was rated the most fervid orator of
his time. In 1836 he married Marie Anne de Merode, who
was a descendant of St. Elizabeth of Hungary. She belonged
to the most illustrious family in the Belgian province of Hai-
nault ; the head of the house, Felix de Merode, was adored
by the Walloons and Flemings alike, and in 1830 he was their,
own choice for the crown of Belgium. He refused their impor-
tunities, however, and it was given to the German prince,
Leopold.

The death of Montalembert occurred in March, 1870, six
months before the dreadful crash which brought the Second
Empire to the ground. Toward the end of his career the
question of declaring the papal infallibility was mooted ; Charles
became a strong opponent of such a declaration, and spoke
out at times in terms of imprudent acerbity. Strong minds
were ranged with him on the mistaken side : Newman in Eng-
land, Darboy in France, Dollinger in Germany, Kenrick in
America. Montalembert's bitter utterance against " those ultra-
montane doctors who wish to immolate justice and truth and
reason and history in one huge holocaust to the idol they have
set up in the Vatican," was deeply resented by Pius IX. Mon-
talembert died shortly afterwards, and one of the De Merodes
desired to have a public Solemn Requiem Mass sung at Rome
in the church of the Ara Coeli for the soul of the dead count.
The Holy Father would not permit a public mortuary ser.
vice at Rome at first, but such an outcry arose that he yielded,
taking care, however, to select the church himself and, along
with it, the celebrant and preacher. The requiem, therefore,
was safeguarded from seditious utterances against the infalli-
bility, and five months later the declaration was made as an
article of faith. Since then Montalembert's genius and faith
are the things alone remembered. His masterpiece, The Monks
of the West, has become a classic to Catholics ; his Elizabeth
of Hungary is one of our most precious literary gems ; his
writings, like his life, are all aglow with faith and charity and
hope ; he had his dreams, true enough ; his illusions which later
on became errors ; but, despite his vagaries, he was always
great enough to submit to the voice of authority. Thank God
for such sterling laymen as Charles de Montalembert !

RIGHT REV. J. A. FOREST, PRESENT BISHOP OF SAN ANTONIO.

IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF TEXAS MISSIONARIES.

BY THOMAS O'HAGAN, M.A., PH.D.

EXAS is a land of glorious skies, glorious hero-
ism, daring deeds, and high emprise. It shares
in two civilizations. The shadow of its begin-
nings reaches into Mexico, while the sun of its
growing noontide pours its rays athwart the
North. Men have indeed made history in Texas, in cloister, in
camp, in field, in forest wherever courage, devotion, and faith
sublime chose to build an altar chose to offer sacrifice.

The history of Texas has many chapters full of thrilling

1900.] IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF TEXAS MISSIONARIES. 341

adventure and incident, but none so noble and glorious as
that which records the work of the Catholic missionary. If
you would behold the monument of his zealous labors, Circum-
spice ! it is found in the dioceses erected, the churches built,
the convents and schools multiplied, the hospitals and asylums
that bear in their bosom God's poor and afflicted ; all these
are the work of the Catholic Church in Texas all these are
the blossoming and fruitage of the seed sown in sacrifice and
tribulation by the hand of the early Texas missionary.

The first missionaries to enter Texas were those who ac-
companied La Salle, the French explorer. They were five in
number, and entered Espiritu Santo Bay in January, 1685.
Here La Salle built a fort on the spot subsequently occupied
by the Bahia Mission. In the chapel erected in the fort the
five priests offered the Holy Sacrifice and administered the
Sacraments, withdrawing from Texas to Canada at the end of
two years. Then came the Franciscans from the Apostolic
College of Queretaro and Zacate"cas, Mexico, who founded mis-
sions on the Rio Grande.

The pioneer Spanish priest was the Franciscan Father Da-
mian Mazanet, who accompanied the expedition of Alonzo de
Leon in i68g. Father Mazanet's auxiliaries were Father Michael
Fontenbierto, Francis Casaftas of Jesus and Mary, Anthony

MISSION CONCEPCION AND
MISSION SAN ANTONIO.

Borday, and Anthony Pereira. The missionaries left Monclora
on the 2/th of March, 1690, and crossing the Rio Grande pro-
ceeded to the country of the Assinais, which they reached

342 IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF TEXAS MISSIONARIES. [June,

about the middle of May, where they established the mission
of San Francisco de los Tejas.

The fathers who went to Texas in 1691 were Fathers Hidal-
go, Estrelles, Fortuni, Garcia, Monge, Saldafla, Miranda, and
Garoycaochea. In 1700, on the 1st of January, the Fathers
Hidalgo, Anthony de San Buenaventura y Olivares, with Father
Ysidro de Espinosa, crossed the Rio Grande, and steps were
taken to establish four missions there. These were maintained
till 1718, when the chief mission was transferred to San Antonio-

The records of San Fernando Church, in San Antonio, show
that the Mission of San Antonio was first established in 1703,.
on the banks of the Rio Grande, under the title of Mission of
San Francisco Solano. It was afterwards transferred to the
neighborhood of San Yldefonso, thence to San Jos on the-
Rio Grande, and finally to the San Antonio River.

In order to prevent the French at Natchitoches from erect-
ing establishments in the province of Texas three expeditions-
left Coahuila, Mexico, in the years 1689, 1691, and 1716. The
first and second expeditions merely went out to learn the de-
signs of the French. On the third expedition, which set out
in 1716, nine friars of the college of Santa Cruz of Queretaro-
and of Our Lady of Guadalupe of Zacatcas, together with the
venerable Father Fray Antonio Margil de Jesus as superior or
president, established six missions in the most northerly part
of the province, and a few years afterwards another was built
near the Presidio of Our Lady Del Pilar de los Adacs, seven-
leagues from the fort of Natchitoches, in Louisiana.

In 1716 the mission of San Antonio Valero was erected not
far from the capital of the province among the Indians, the
Sanes Payaes, and others ; the same year the mission of Con-
cepcion was established among the Sanipaos and Tocanes ; in-
1720 the mission of San Jos de Aguaqo among the Pampopas-
and Mesquites ; in 1716 the missions of San Juan Capistran
and San Francisco de la Espada among the Pamaques, Quijanei
Pecos, and Maraquitas.

These Franciscan missions remain to-day, in their ruined-
state, a monument to the zeal, arduous labor, and artistic taste
of the early Spanish missionaries. As the author of The His-
tory of the Catholic Church in the Diocese of San Antonio justl]
remarks, New England has nothing equal to them to commemo-
rate the passing of the Pilgrim and the Puritan. They stand
out uniquely as a memorial of the self-sacrificing devotion of
the sons of St. Francis in their lofty and sanctified desire to*

i goo.] IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF TEXAS MISSIONARIES. 343

RIGHT REV. A. D. PELLICER,^
FIRST BISHOP OF
SAN ANTONIO.

RIGHT REV. J. C. NERAZ, SECOND BISHOP OF SAN ANTONIO.

win from savagery and sin the benighted children of the forest
and prairie. The army of God relies not upon the sword but
the spirit of truth, and the footprints of the saintly Franciscan,
Father Antonio Margil, will exhale in Texas the perfume of
the Catholic virtues he implanted long after the cruel memory
of a Santa Anna has mingled with the dust of the Alamo.
Of the four Franciscan missions hard by San Antonio, San
Jose is unquestionably the most beautiful. The celebrated
artist Huica was sent from Spain, and spent several years in
carving the various ornamentations of the building. The front
doorway is thirty-five feet high ; the doors, solid live-oak
covered with cedar, nicely carved, have, like the statues around
the doorway, long since suffered at the hands of vandals. The

344 I N THE FOOTSTEPS OF TEXAS MISSIONARIES. [June,

spiral stairs of live-oak and the cedar ladders are still the
only means of getting up to the tower.

What is known as the First Mission, or Mission de la Con-
cepcion, is on the left bank of the San Antonio River, about
two miles below the City of San Antonio. Its style is Chris-
tianized Moorish a style which prevails in many of the Mexi-
can cities of to-day. The walls of the interior are painted with
various emblems, among which are the cord of the Fran-
ciscans, a serpent, and the seven dolors, or sorrows, which
pierced the heart of the Virgin Mother.

The Third Mission, or the Mission of San Juan Capistrano,
does not possess the very graceful charm of architecture of
the other two, yet it is well worth the visitor's attention, for
from its well-marked-out squares and ruined outbuildings one
may judge of the general plan of these refuges and of the
perseverance of those Franciscan brothers who wrought these
wonders out of such unpromising materials.

The Fourth Mission, or the Mission of San Francisco de
la Espada, is in a better condition than the third, and gives a
more complete idea of the purpose and plan of the old Span-
ish missions of Texas. Much of the old rampart wall is intact,
and on the south-east corner is a well-preserved bastion which
is pierced with musket and cannon holes.

The Alamo church is all that remains to us of what was
once the extensive Mission "del Alamo," or Mission " San
Antonio de Valero." The greater portion of the modern
plaza was once enclosed within walls, as were also the barracks
and convent buildings, but it was in the church that its heroic
defenders, on March 6, 1836, made their last desperate stand
for the liberty of Texas.

These Spanish mission churches of Texas are indeed a
revelation in their splendor and massiveness, and in the archi-
tectural beauty which even in their decay crowns them as
creations of Catholic art.

While Texas remained ecclesiastically subject to Mexico, it
was successively cared for spiritually by the bishops of the
sees of Guadalajara and Monterey, or, as the latter was then
known, Linares. In 1764 the missionaries who had come from
the College of Quertaro withdrew from Texas, leaving this
field to the care of those from the College of Zacatcas.

The Franciscan missions in Texas continued to flourish till
about the year 1813, when they were suppressed by the Span-
ish government. For a number of years following this, Texas

1900.] IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF TEXAS MISSIONARIES. 345

was in a state of chaos as regards the Catholic faith and the
ministrations of religion. It was during this spiritually low
ebb of the church in Texas, when the altars of the beautiful
Spanish missions stood awaiting priests to offer the ador-

MISSIONS SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO AND SAN FRANCISCO.

able Sacrifice, that the Bishop of Monterey sent to Nacogdoches
the last Franciscan missionary who toiled and suffered for the
faith in Texas Father Diaz de Leon, who is supposed to have
met his death by assassination.

But a new era was soon to dawn for the Catholic Church
in Texas. In the midst of this gathering darkness Pope
Gregory XVI., having learned of the sad condition .of affairs,
addressed a letter to the Archbishop of New Orleans request-
ing him to send a competent priest to examine and report on
the actual state of the Catholic Church in Texas. The Very
Rev. J. Timon, who afterwards became the first Bishop of
Buffalo, N. Y., was selected to undertake the task. As a result
of this report, forwarded to the Holy See, the Sovereign Pon-
tiff resolved to establish a distinct jurisdiction in Texas, and
Very Rev. J. Timon and Rev. John M. Odin were appointed
in 1839 prefect-apostolic and vice-prefect respectively. Rev.
Father Odin started immediately for San Antonio, with an
armed wagon to protect himself against any attack from the

346 IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF TEXAS MISSIONARIES. [June,

Indians. Father Odin's work in San Antonio soon bore good
fruit. He went to Austin, the capital of Texas, where he was
successful in petitioning Congress to confirm unto the Catholic
Church its churches and missions.

On the loth of July, 1841, Pope Gregory XVI. erected the
Republic of Texas into a vicariate-apostolic, and Right Rev.
John M. Odin was appointed Bishop of Claudiopolis and was
assigned to the newly constituted vicariate. The churches in
Texas at this time, as we learn from Bishop Odin's journal,
were : The San Fernando parochial church ; San Antonio de
Alamo ; Church of the Concepcion ; Church of San Jose ;
Church of San Juan ; Church de la Espada ; in Goliad a par-
ish church ; in Victoria a picket church ; on the San Antonio
River, at the ranch of Don Carlos de la Garza, the log church
of Santa Gertrudis, besides two other churches in Laredo and
Isleta.

In 1861, when Bishop Odin was translated to the metro-
politan see of New Orleans, there were in Texas forty-two
priests, forty-six churches and chapels, one college, five schools
for boys, and four academies for young ladies.

In 1847 Galveston whose present episcopal incumbent is
the Right Rev. Dr. Gallagher, a prelate of great prudence and
scholarship became a bishop's see, and two years later, at the
request of Bishop Odin, the Ursuline Nuns began their con-
vent in Galveston. The daughters of St. Ursula have now
in Galveston one of the finest educational buildings in the
South.

In 1862 Father Dubuis, who had been successively pastor
of San Fernando Church and St. Mary's Church which latter
as well as the Ursuline convent in San Antonio Father Dubuis
built was consecrated Bishop of Galveston.

On September 27, 1868, the foundation stone of the San
Fernando cathedral was laid. From The History of the Catho-
lic Church in the Diocese of San Antonio we learn the following
facts in connection with the church :

" This building as it now stands is a mixture of the old
and new styles of architecture. On this site originally stood
the parish church of the capital town of San Fernando. That
old building was distinctly different from the missions, for it
was built to meet the needs of the growing settlement around
what is now known as the Main and Military Plazas, a settle-
ment that was eventually to combine with the Presidio and
Mission del Alamo, and at last become San Antonio de Bexa

1900.] IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF TEXAS MISSIONARIES. 347

SAN FERNANDO CATHEDRAL, FROM REAR AND FRONT VIEW.

Soon after the arrival of the Canary Islanders, who had come
with grants and privileges from the King of Spain, there was
a demand for a place of worship. On February 17, 1738, the
project took definite shape, and the Church of San Fernando
was rapidly built. The missions were rather for the use and
benefit of Indian converts, although they served also for a
political purpose i. e., to establish firmly the frontier lines and
territory of Spain. For a century and a quarter this church
fulfilled the needs of the population ; in the meantime the set-
tlement became known as San Antonio de Bexar. The town
began to grow rapidly, and the need of greater church accommo-
dation was felt. On September 27, 1868, the corner-stone of a
new structure was laid, and in order that there should be no
interruption in the services, the new church was built around
and over the old, which was removed when the new was suf-
ficiently completed. The curious polygonal western portion
facing Military Plaza, with its moresque dome, is all that re-
mains of San Antonio's pioneer church."

The first Bishop of San Antonio, Right Rev. A. D. Pellicer,
was installed in the new cathedral on Christmas Eve, 1874.
The new diocese contained about forty thousand Catholics,
who were spiritually cared for by some thirty-five priests.

348 IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF TEXAS MISSIONARIES. [June,

Bishop Pellicer wore the mitre in the new see of San An-
tonio till April 14, 1880, when he passed away at his residence
adjoining St. Mary's Church. Upon the death of Monseigneur
Pellicer, Vicar-General Neraz, who in the meantime became
administrator, was appointed bishop. Right Rev. Dr. Neraz was
imbued with the most earnest zeal for the propagation of the
faith. After four years of progressive and benign episcopal
rule this good bishop laid down in death his crozier, and was
succeeded by the present energetic and self-sacrificing Bishop
of San Antonio, Right Rev. Dr. Forest.

In December of last year was celebrated at Brownsville,
Texas, of which vicariate Right Rev. P. Verdaguer is Vicar-
Apostolic, the golden jubilee of the first arrival of the Oblate
Fathers as missionaries in Texas. It was assuredly a worthy
commemoration.

That was indeed a memorable day in March, 1852, when the
beautiful French sailing vessel La Belle Assise opened its
snowy wings to the strong breath of ocean and streamed out
from Havre, having on board, bound for Texas, six Oblate
fathers and one lay brother, four nuns of the Incarnate Word,
two Ursuline sisters^ four Brothers of Mary, and eighteen
seminarians. But one of this Oblate missionary band now sur-
vives Rev. Father Parisot, O.M.I., of St. Mary's Church, Sai
Antonio, author of a valuable contribution to the history ol
the Catholic Church in America, entitled Reminiscences of
Texas Missionary.

What these good and zealous Oblate missionaries have done
for the Catholic faith in Texas can alone be read in the
records of heaven. When Father Parisot and his five com-
panions reached the shores of Texas there were but nine priests
in the whole State. Fitting indeed was it that the centre, the
magnet of the Oblate Golden Jubilee celebration at Brownsville
should have been the venerable and genial Father Parisot,
whose life and labors in the mission fields of Texas are in-
separably bound up with fifty years of the history of th<
Catholic Church in the " Lone Star " State.

Canadians know something of the great work of the Oblate
Fathers in educational and mission fields, for with truth it
may be said that the whole of Canada, from Atlantic to Pacific,
is their sacred vineyard of labor, while at the capital of th(
Dominion the city of Ottawa they have maintained foi
half a century one of the leading Catholic universities oi
America.

1900.] IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF TEXAS MISSIONARIES. 349

REV. FATHER PARISOT, ONE OF THE ORIGINAL OBLATE MISSIONARIES OF
TEXAS, AND AUTHOR OF " REMINISCENCES OF A TEXAS MISSIONARY."

Besides conducting St. Joseph's College in Brownsville, the
Oblates have charge of a number of important parishes in sev-
eral of the dioceses of Texas, chief amongst these being St.
Mary's Church, San Antonio, whose pastor, Rev. C. J. Smith,
O.M.I., is one of the greatest factors of progress in the historic
city of the Alamo.

But In the Footsteps of the Texas Missionary should be a
record of something more than the toil, privations, and tribu-
lations, the sacrifice, zeal, and piety of the priest and prelate
who forded rivers, slept under the starry dome of a Texas sky,

350 IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF TEXAS MISSIONARIES. [June,

in Border to plant the seedling of Catholic faith in the hearts of
these children of the illimitable plains and wilderness.

What of the gentle hearts and cultured minds who left
their sweet homes of childhood in La belle France, in the
emerald vales of beloved Erin, or, mayhap, where the Rhine
dreams its legends, fringed by the blossoming orchards of Alsace
and Lorraine to tend a humble little altar of learning upon
the banks of the San Antonio or Rio Grande ? These too
are assuredly missionaries whose footsteps are holy, and the
labor of whose hearts and hands has blessed Texas within the
sanctuary of its homes.

The Catholic college is a corollary of the Catholic mission,
and so we learn from Father Parisot's Reminiscences of a Texas
Missionary that one of his first tasks on reaching Texas was to
collect money for a college to be opened in Galveston. This
is now the well-known seat of learning, St. Mary's University.
This, we believe, was the pioneer college for the education of
Catholic young men in Texas.

In iSSi'the foundation of St. Edward's College, in Austin,
Texas, was laid. Within the nineteen years of its scholastic
life St. Edward's College has steadily grown materially, intel-
lectually, and financially, till now it is one of the foremost
Catholic colleges in the South. When it is said that this
popular seat of learning grew out of the brain and heart of
Notre Dame University, Indiana, and is conducted by the
scholarly Fathers of the Holy Cross, it will be readily under-
stood why St. Edward's has ever a large enrollment of Catho-
lic young men. Right Rev. P. J. Hurth, C.S.C., Bishop of the
see of Dacca, Eastern Bengal, India, was for some years presi-
dent of St. Edward's. The present popular and progressive
head is the Rev. John T. Boland, C.S.C. Hard by the college
is St. Mary's Academy for the education of young ladies, con-
ducted by the Sisters of the Holy Cross, whose name is a
synonym for thorough academic work in art and letters where-
ever the true value of culture and scholarship obtains.

The Ursuline Nuns first found their way into Texas through
Galveston, where, at the invitation of Bishop Odin, they es-
tablished an academy to which reference has already been
made. Four years later the Ursulines established a convent in
San Antonio, being the first school opened in that city and
the second in the State for the education of young girls, both
rich and poor. For well-nigh fifty years this institution has
sustained a reputation in the departments of letters, music, an

i QOO.] IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF TEXAS MISSIONARIES. 351

painting which has attracted to its academic halls daughters of
the best families in Mexico and the leading States of the
South. The good and pious daughters of St. Ursula had much
to endure during their pioneer years in San Antonio, but the
love, affection, and gratitude of their pupils as it flowed into
them from the world, and the spirit of holy sacrifice which
was a very cardinal virtue in their great founder, bore them
joyously through every difficulty. To-day, whether you visit
the cities of New Mexico, old Mexico, California, Texas, or
Louisiana, you will hear praise for the Ursulines of San
Antonio, whose good work in Catholic education has descended
as a benediction upon countless hearts and homes. In the
city of Dallas, which was erected into an episcopal see in the
beginning of the " nineties," the present progressive prelate
being Bishop Dunne, the Ursulines have also established a
convent.

No sketch of the Catholic Church in Texas that would
leave out the labors of the Sisters of the Incarnate Word and
the Brothers of Mary would be complete. Both were pioneers
in the good work which they undertook to do the education
of Catholic boys and girls and the care of the sick and afflicted.
St. Louis College, recently built by the Brothers of Mary in
San Antonio, is one of the finest structures and best equipped
educational institutions to be found in any city of the South.,
Nor should the convent of Our Lady of the Lake in San
Antonio, conducted by the Sisters of Providence, pass un-
heeded or without commendation. These good sisters are a very
bulwark of Catholic education in Texas. The town of Victoria
has also an excellent Catholic college and convent, and the
Basilian Fathers from Toronto, Ontario, whose good work for
Catholic education is so widely known, have lately opened a
college at Waco.

Texas is indeed starred with the heroic deeds of pioneer
prelate and priest, of gentle nun and zealous brother, the per-
fume of whose labors makes fragrant to-day the flowers of
Catholic faith in the hearts and homes of the beautiful South-
land.

<9WO

A GREAT man preached to brilliant throngs,

Where incense rose in cathedrals dim ;
His voice was as sweet as well-loved songs,

And men were wild in their praise of him.
But never a burdened heart had wept

Its tale of woe at the Preacher's feet;
O'er the light of his glory shadows crept,

For he knew that his work was incomplete.

Bnt the world knew naught of a man who preached

In an humble church, to an humble few;
He had no power save the love that reached

From his own great heart to the hearts he knew.
And many a toil-worn hand he pressed,

That groped to him from the darkest woe;
Ah! many a wayward one he blessed,

And he knew the peace that the faithful know.

The first man preached that his words might live
When his bones were white 'neath the churchyard sod ;

The other gave what he had to give

To the living men, and he preached for God.

LUCY GERTRUDE KELLEY,

1900.] DR. MIVART' s LAST UTTERANCE. 353

DR. MIVART'S LAST UTTERANCE.

BY REV. GEORGE M. SEARLE, C S.P.

HOUGH it is a good general rule which is laid
down in the common maxim, " De mortiiis nil
nisi bonum " ; and though this rule applies with
special force to making a criticism which can-
not be answered by the party criticised, still
it is plain that the misunderstandings which are likely to arise
from the last article of the late Dr. St. George Mivart,
published in the April number of the North American Review,
are of too grave a character to be passed by with indifference by
those who have the honor of the Catholic Church at heart, or
even by any one who wishes to preserve in the minds of men
a belief in Divine revelation as an actual and practical ground
of certainty in matters of religion.

But it is not with any desire or intention to accuse the
able and eminent author of the article of having had any
malignant spirit of opposition, even against the Roman Church,
that an answer to it need be made. Still less is it necessary,
in answering it, to suppose that he himself wished to destroy
confidence in Divine revelation. It is better to assume that
he did not fully realize the consequences which would neces-
sarily follow from the adoption of his principles.

It is, however, quite clear that these principles would logi-
cally have the effect of destroying not only the faith of
Catholics, but also all Christian faith, properly so called. For
faith is an assent to authoritative teaching; a belief, that is, in
the statements made regarding some matter, by some authority
on the competence and sincerity of which we can depend.
Faith is not the result of a mere harmonizing of opinions ; an
intellectual convergence, so to speak, on matters which the
intellect of man, aided by his other natural powers, is sufficient
to thoroughly discuss.

FALSE IDEAS OF FAITH.

This latter seems to have been the idea which Dr. Mivart
had of it. His plan, apparently proposed seriously as the
proper means of arriving at a satisfactory system of religious
VOL. LXXI. 23

354 DR. MIVART'S LAST UTTERANCE. [June,

truth, is that the "Roman theologians" should give up the
idea of an infallible Church altogether, and proceed, in all the
matters with which they have to deal, on the method followed
by investigators in natural science; that -they should be willing
to admit, that in past conclusions, arrived at and stated, how-
ever solemnly and definitely, some error may have been made.
"To my mind," he says, "it was clear that unless the infalli-
bility of the Church could be seriously disclaimed, and the
possibility of error in passed conciliar decrees allowed, the
needed evolution of dogma was impossible."

This plan is in natural science a highly reasonable one, and
it is the one actually followed. For though it is true that
after a theory, like that of gravitation, for instance, has stood
many and searching tests, and has accounted, so far as it has
been tested, for all the phenomena which it is expected to
account for, it may be laid down as an established truth, and
have a peg put through it, as it were, indicating that it needs,
at any rate, no substantial revision ; still it is always admitted
that there is a possibility that some facts may be produced re-
quiring some modification in it. To the crude objections made
by the unlearned no attention is paid ; still, that some really
well founded objections may be brought forward, can never be
regarded as utterly out of the question.

So even in the case of so well established a theory as
gravitation, it is not claimed that science has said absolutely
its last word. But this is, after all, rather an exception among
actual scientific theories. It is not usual to find so great a
leap made in science as that which fell to the lot of Sir Isaac
Newton. As a rule we find, rather than anything like this, a
series of approximations to the actual and final truth. To use
the fashionable word of the present day, used by Dr. Mivart
in the passage quoted above, there is usually a gradual
" evolution " of scientific theories from imperfect and more or
less erroneous statements to more perfect and complete ones ;
we pass, by a sort of convergence, as has been said, from dis-
cordant views to others more and more concordant.

This process is necessary and normal where the intellect is
working to co-ordinate or systematize facts not as yet com-
pletely studied or investigated, such as those which form the
subject matter of physical science. And something like it
obtains even in matters of pure reason, like those of mathema-
tics". In this science, indeed, mistakes or erroneous statements
hardly lie in the order of regular development ; but we con-

1900.] DR. Mi v ART'S LAST UTTERANCE. 355

tinually learn that formulas, which seem at first to be final
expressions of general principles, are reducible to formulas or
principles still more general, of which they are but special
cases.

The same may also be said of theology, considered in that
part which is accessible to our natural reasoning powers. We
can not only by our reason arrive at a knowledge of the ex-
istence of God, but also we can know a great deal about what
are commonly called His attributes. Some of this knowledge
comes to us by abstract reasoning alone, and is not unlike that
which we have of the science of mathematics, just spoken of ;
with regard, to others we may be materially helped by .the
observation of His works in the natural order. The whole
domain of natural theology lies, we may say, in the general
field of natural science, and may have an evolution on the
same lines by which natural science in general is advanced.
Practically, however, this is principally accomplished, as in the
case of mathematical science, by a priori reasoning ; and no-
where has this been as completely realized as in the Catholic
Church.

PROFESSOR HOFFMAN'S ERRORS.

The great mistake, however, of our modern speculators on
religious questions is the assumption that" all our knowledge
of theology is to be acquired in this way. This is well ex-
emplified in another article in this same number of the
North American, by Professor Hoffman, of Union College.
" Great thinkers," he says, " from Thales, Plato, and Moses,
have had their theologies their explanations of the origin and
nature of the universe, as they understood it, and many of
these explanations have been of extraordinary merit ; but even
St. Paul himself could never have been certain that his ex-
planation was more than a probably true one."

The Apostles' Creed, Professor Hoffman goes on to say,
contains the sum and substance of three systems of theology,
those of Sts. Peter, Paul, and John respectively. It is, in his
view, an expression of the combined opinion of these three
" thinkers," and deriving what weight and authority it has from
the eminence of these great men as thinkers on religious
subjects.

The authority of our Lord Himself, as he states afterward,
rests on a similar basis in his mind. He says that even His
teachings " should be accepted or rejected on the ground of

356 DR. MIVART'S LAST UTTERANCE. [June,

their inherent reasonableness." He admits, however, that "the
probabilities that He spoke the truth are so high that they
can never be made any higher." As he does not, evidently,
admit the Divinity of Jesus for if he did, it would be absurd
to speak of probabilities this can only mean that He was
such a supereminently great thinker that we may be sure, prac-
tically at any rate, that we never can or shall find any one
superior to him ; that he is among theologians only in even a
much higher degree what Sir Isaac Newton is popularly con-
sidered as being among mathematical astronomers.

But still, on this theory, His teaching, like that of any
great mind, is, as we have seen that Professor Hoffman dis-
tinctly states, not above our criticism. It is therefore to be
combined, giving it of course a very special weight, with that
of others ; to be treated really in the same way as that of a
very eminent man in some department of science is treated ;
being discussed together with that of his inferiors, who may,
after all, be able to supply defects in it, or at any rate to put
it into better shape. And so by the comparison of the views
of all these great minds, subjected to the examination of
others coming subsequently, and of a gradually expanding and
continually better informed general human intelligence, the
noble science of theology is gradually to be formed as other
sciences are.

THE ELEMENT OF REVELATION SUPERADDED TO RELIGIOUS

KNOWLEDGE.

Now, as has been said, it is, in our opinion, a great mis-
take to hold that it is in this way that all our knowledge of
religion is to be obtained. And not only in our individual opin-
ion is this so, but in that of all Catholics ; and not only in the
opinion of all Catholics, but in that of the immense majority
of all that have ever called themselves Christians ; and not
only in the opinion of this immense number of Christians, but
in that of all adherents of any definite form of religion since
the world began. Indeed, the conviction of mankind has
always been that something more than the mere natural knowl-
edge of God, of His ways and His works, attainable by great
thinkers, is needed to " satisfy " to quote again from Professor
Hoffman " the demands of the intellect and 'the cravings of
the. heart." And it is very safe to say that if the teachings of
Christ and His Apostles were generally believed to be simply
the conclusions of great thinkers, they would instantly cease to

1900.] DR. MIVART'S LAST UTTERANCE. 357

satisfy such demands and cravings, in those who now are, as
far as is possible in this world, satisfied with them. No ; what
man longs for is certainty, such as no great thinker or collec-
tion of thinkers can give in these matters ; and also a greater
amount of positive information than such can possibly arrive
at, or even convince themselves that they have attained. They
themselves will not be satisfied with their results ; no one can
seriously hold that Thales, or Plato, or any similar thinker
was ; and as to St. Paul, to imagine or represent him as sim-
ply the maker of a theology with which he was satisfied, is to
make a merely imaginary figure of him, and to neglect his own
words ; which are not, " I have worked out what is to me a
satisfactory theory/' but something absolutely different ; name-
ly, " I know in whom I have believed"

It is well to look at facts as they are, and not substitute
mere theories for them. No one who reads the writings of St.
Paul or of the other Apostles, or the accounts of their words
and actions which have come down to us, can fail to see that
they did not consider themselves to be propounding theological
conclusions at which they had arrived by thought or study,
but that they fully believed themselves to be the witnesses and
recipients of a stupendous supernatural revelation made by God
Himself, and that they were proclaiming this revelation to the
world.

The same, mutatis mutandis, may of course be applied to
our Lord Jesus Christ Himself. But it Js not necessary to de-
velop this more fully.

REVELATION AND THE MEANS OF CERTITUDE.

I have indeed gone a little out of the way of the main
issue in noticing so fully the statements of Professor Hoffman ;
but I have done so because Dr. Mivart himself evidently goes
on the notion which Professor Hoffman brings out more clearly
and explicitly. I have said that this notion or theory is a
great mistake, and it must be granted that it is so, according
to the opinion and common sense of the great mass of man-
kind. And what is more to the purpose, it is most obviously
opposed to the whole conception of the Catholic Church, and
to the claims which it, and indeed every organized Christian
Church, has always made. The claim and belief of Christians
has always been that God, through our Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ, has made a distinct supernatural revelation, in-
forming us in it of truths which reason by itself could never

358 DR. MIVART* s LAST UTTERANCE. [June,

arrive at ; and that furthermore, having determined to make
this revelation to us, He has, in accordance with what must
certainly seem to be required by His infinite wisdom, given us
in some way the means of knowing what that revelation is.
The usual Protestant theory is that it is comprised in a book
which, in His providence, He has caused to be prepared for
us; the Catholic, that He has committed it to the custody of
an organized body of teachers, to whom, in case of doubt
arising about its contents, He has promised the assistance
necessary to obtain infallibly its true sense. The Catholic
Church, however, also holds that the book which Protestants
venerate and accept as the Word of God is really and truly
such, and that the Christian revelation is, in large measure,
contained in it ; but that it is not by itself absolutely sufficient,
and that its sense is not always clear without interpretation,
and that it was not intended to be so, since its interpretation
was provided for in the teaching Church itself.

I do not now propose to show the inadequacy of the Prot-
estant theory above mentioned, or the sufficiency of the Catho-
lic one ; but merely to emphasize the fact that Christians have
always considered that their religion rested on a really super-
natural revelation, and that the true meaning and contents of
this revelation were attainable somehow or somewhere. To
cut loose from this idea, and regard the teachings of Christ
and His Apostles as a more or less fallible contribution to a
general religious science being developed by mankind, is' to
cease to be distinctively a Christian at all. This Professor
Hoffman probably apprehends and intends.

But Dr. Mivart does not seem to have seen it so clearly.
In a certain sense, he seems to have held what may be called
an exaggerated Catholic theory, in giving the formation of
Catholic and Christian dogma to the Church, without laying on
it any obligation to hold to the truth of the written word of
God, as found in Holy Scripture. But though giving to the
" Roman theologians" (by which it must be supposed he means
the authorities of the Roman Church, and especially of course
the Holy Father himself) the official duty of teaching, and the
right and ability to teach Christian doctrine, he insists that
they shall, to use a common illustration, saw off, on the side
toward the tree, the very branch on which they are sitting.
He says: "The most imperative task for Roman theologians
to-day is. to modify the meaning of the dogma of the Church's
infallibility, so as to render possible the admission by them

1900.] DR. Mi v ART'S LAST UTTERANCE. 359

that the Councils of Florence, Trent, and the Vatican " (why
these particular ones ?) " have erred, and that the Pope's En-
cyclical is to be put on one side as of absolutely no account
whatever."

"To modify the meaning"; it is indeed strange that a man
accustomed to habits of thought could use such words. Cer-
tainly it is a strange modification of the meaning of a state-
ment to utterly deny and retract the only conceivable mean
ing which it can have. For he does not seem to claim that
there are any reasons in the conditions or character of the
Councils or of the Encyclical named, making them different
from others, but only that it may happen that now and then
the Church (though regularly and habitually defining with in-
fallibility) makes a blunder or mistake in its dogmatic defini-
tions. But if so, its infallibility simply no longer exists. There
remains only a strong probability that it may be right, just
as there is a strong probability that any learned man may be
right in the matters of his specialty ; but as you never can
tell when the slip is going to occur, you are simply thrown
back on general principles in your search for truth ; or rather,
in point of fact, on your own individual judgment ; you are
tossed on a sea of doubt or mere probability, without rudder
or compass; without even the one guiding star of Holy Scripture,
which Protestants have as a rule depended on, but which is so
far from helping Dr. Mivart, that it makes his special diffi-
culty. But he did not quite realize the predicament. It
seemed to him that there was still a pretty good guide. But
it is to be feared that really it was nothing more than his own
opinion that was to serve in this capacity. The only real or
practical outcome of his advice is this : " Give up the Church's
infallibility, and trust instead to my guidance and that of other
learned and enlightened men, who will set you right when the
Church happens to fall into error; and then the evolution of
Christian dogma will indeed proceed on safe and successful
lines."

To come down now a little more to particulars. Dr. Mivart's
real grievances seem to have been the placing of some of his
writings on the Index, and the Encyclical "Providentissimus Deus."

THE MEANING OF THE INDEX.

Now as to the first matter. It is no doubt a trial to human
nature to have one's writings on any subject noted by the
authority of the Church as dangerous for Catholic [perusal,

360 DR. Mi v 'ART' s LAST UTTERANCE. [June,

without having the particular points stated which are objec-
tionable, or reasons given why they are so. And it is no
doubt a proceeding not on the lines of the modern state in
dealing with offences committed against its authority. We ex-
pect a definite charge to be made, if we are accused of an
offence, and a chance given us to prove that we are not guilty
of the offence alleged. But it should be remembered that the
condemnation by the Index of a writing does not necessarily
imply any charge of guilt against the writer, so that the cases
really are not parallel. Nor does it mean that everything
which the writer has said in his work is contrary to sound
doctrine ; still less that everything which he objects to in it is
a part of Catholic dogma. And unless something is specifically
stated, it does not absolutely imply that any particular propo-
sition in it is false, though there is of course a probability that
some one is. But it does mean that the book or writing is
likely to do harm, and probably more harm than good, and
that therefore the author, though his intentions may have been
perfectly good, should sacrifice his own pride and amour propre
for the sake of the faithful at large. We ought to acknowl-
edge that the public good should prevail over our own private
convenience, and remember that we are not accused of any
formal offence, and that the Church cannot always stop to
argue with us, and to show just what is the matter. If we are
prohibited from publishing anything which we are not as yet
prohibited from holding, we should be content to refrain from
what might seem to us to be good, though not obligatory, on
account of the evil which the proper authority tells us will now
result from it ; but if it does appear that something which we
have believed to be the truth absolutely or probably can never
be admitted to be in harmony with Catholic dogma, we must
either be glad of the information for we should always prize
truth above our own reputation for ability or we must cut
loose from the only means by which, as I have endeavored to
show, and as all Catholics believe, truth in these matters can
be definitely obtained.

THE PAPAL LETTER ON THE HOLY SCRIPTURES.

Now with regard to the Encyclical, " Providentissimus Deus"
which Dr. Mivart notes as " terrible," it really seems as if he
could hardly have read it with due attention. He only quotes
one sentence of it, as follows. Speaking of the sacred authors,
the Holy Father says:

1900.] DR. Miv ART'S LAST UTTERANCE. 361

" By supernatural power, God so moved and impelled them
to writeHe was so present to them that the things which
He ordered, and those only, they first rightly understood, and
then willed faithfully to write down, and finally expressed in
apt words and with infallible truth."

Now, where precisely in this, taken in connection with other
parts of the encyclical, Dr. Mivart, as a scientific man, found
insuperable difficulty, it is not very easy to see. As to the
right understanding on the part of the authors, that is an im-
portant point as to the manner of inspiration, showing its
difference from the way in which a general council, none of the
members of which has perhaps a complete understanding of
the matter which it defines, may yet be preserved from error
in its statement of this matter, just as, for the matter of that,
any theologian whose works have been approved by the Church
has actually been so preserved, though not by virtue of any
infallible promise. But, as far as we are concerned, the mere
manner of the inspiration makes no difference. For that the
authors should have understood the matters rightly, or ex-
pressed them in apt words, by no means implies that the right
understanding of them is that which the authors seem to us to
have had, or that those apt words are the most apt for every
purpose as, for instance, for that of scientific statement. The
only real difficulties are those which might be concerned with
the interpretation of their writings, or with regard to the ex-
tent of the field to which their right understanding and correct
statement applied.

Now, as to the matter of interpretation, the Holy Father
by no means departs from the previous practice of the Church
in allowing interpretations differing from the literal sense. He
not only says that such interpretations, as made by the Fathers,
may and should be followed, but he goes on to tell us that the
expositor of Sacred Scripture " must not consider that it is for-
bidden, when just cause exists, to push inquiry and exposition
beyond what the Fathers have done ; provided he carefully
observes the rule so wisely laid down by St. Augustine, not to
depart from the literal and obvious sense, except only where
reason makes it untenable or necessity requires."

THE BIBLE AND SCIENCE.

And with regard to the particular matter of natural or phy-
sical science, it would appear that there was no cause for Dr.
Mivart's alarm. The following words from the encyclical are

362 DR. Miv ART'S LAST UTTERANCE. [June,

deserving of more careful consideration than, it is to be feared,
he gave them :

" There can never, indeed, be any real discrepancy between
the theologian and the physicist, as long as each confines him-
self within his own lines, and both are careful, as St. Augustine
warns us, * not to make rash assertions, or to assert what is
not known as known.' If dissension should arise between them,
here is a rule also laid down by St. Augustine for the theolo-
gian : ' Whatever they can really demonstrate to be true of
physical nature, we must show to be capable of reconciliation
with our Scriptures ; and whatever they assert in their treatises
which is contrary to these Scriptures of ours, that is to Catho-
lic faith, we must either prove it as well as we can to be en-
tirely false, or at all events we must, without the smallest
hesitation, believe it to be so.' To understand how just is the
rule here formulated, we must remember, first, that the sacred
writers, or to speak more accurately, the Holy Ghost, * Who
spoke by them, did not intend to teach men these things (that
is to say, the essential nature of the things of the visible uni-
verse), things in no way profitable unto salvation (St. Augus-
tine).' Hence they did not seek to penetrate the secrets of
nature, but rather described and dealt with things in more or
less figurative, language, or in terms which were commonly used
at the time, and which in many instances are in daily use at
this day, even by the most eminent men of science. Ordinary
speech primarily and properly describes what comes under the
senses ; and somewhat in the same way the sacred writers as
the Angelic Doctor also reminds us ' went by what sensibly
appeared,' or put down what God, speaking to men, signified,
in the way men could understand and were accustomed to."

EXTENT OF INSPIRATION.

But it is probably the second of the two difficulties above
named which was the greater one to Dr. Mivart ; that is, the
extent of the field covered by the inspiration of the sacred
writers. He had believed that the Church would allow that
their inspiration only extended to matters of faith and morals ;
so that everything found in them which had no direct applica-
tion to matters coming under these heads could be considered
as purely human, and as liable to error as any other writing
by these authors acting merely in and by their natural capacity,
or by others of the same amount of natural ability and infor-
mation. This theory would, of course, leave the reader of

igoo.] DR. Miv ART'S LAST UTTERANCE. 363

Sacred Scripture a great deal freer in forming his opinions on
other matters, specially the facts of history or biography treated
in its pages, than the Catholic one given by the Holy Father.
But still it must have been evident that such a theory was in
opposition to the general current of Christian tradition, not
only in the Catholic Church, but also outside of it ; and, fur-
thermore, that it would reduce the inspiration of the sacred
writers practically to the same level as that of the authoritative
documents issued by popes and councils. Security from error
in definite pronouncements on matters immediately concerning
religion is all that is needed in these latter, as they are not
the channels of a new revelation, but simply decisions on what
is already revealed. But the Sacred Scripture has always been
held to contain the revelation itself ; its human authors were
idividually selected and specially commissioned by the Divine
or of the revelation for that purpose ; it has therefore
ilways seemed to the common sense or opinion of the Church,
>oth in the Old and the New Dispensation, that having a very
jcial office to discharge, they should have a special help for
their work, and be inspired in the whole of it by Him who in-
spired them to it.

MIVART'S MENTAL STATE.

However, it is plain, as we have seen, that Dr. Mivart is
not ready to grant to the authorities of the Church even the
degree of Divine direction and guidance which the Catholic
faith requires, and which it is easy to show as indeed all ex-
perience does show is necessary if the Church is to have any
lefinite creed at all ; it is therefore not to be wondered at
that he was not only troubled and disappointed at the higher
degree of Divine guidance assigned in the encyclical to the
icred writers, but absolutely refused to admit it.

The simple fact of the matter is that he really refused to
allow to the Church any divinely appointed sphere of action at
Though apparently considering that the whole matter lay
in the hands of the " Roman theologians " unrestricted by Scrip-
ture, previous decisions of the Church or anything else ; and
thus maintaining a kind of exaggerated Catholicity, as has been
lid ; he really wished them to be simply co-laborers with him-
self and others whom he would consider as fit for the work, in
what he would call a scientific evolution of dogma ; that is the
construction of a system of dogma in which revelation was as
much cast aside as it would be by the ordinary worker in phy-

3 6 4

DR. Mi 'v ART'S LAST UTTERANCE.

[June.

sical science. He had absolutely lost the Catholic and Chris-
tian idea altogether, and ceased to be a Catholic, or even a
Christian at all.

It is curious to note how far his anger at having his theory
interfered with carried him. He not only refuses to notice the
freedom of interpretation specially reserved for the scientist as
well as the theologian, (for, as the Holy Father expressly says,
if the scientist can really demonstrate anything, it must be
shown to be capable of reconciliation with the Scriptures ; that
is, some suitable interpretation of the latter will and must surely
be found ;) but he goes out of his way to make difficulties
which science certainly does not make. What he means, for
instance, by its being historically untrue that animals were
brought to Adam to be named, is difficult to see.

Or, to take another example, it would seem that, in his
opinion, science has investigated quite thoroughly the whole
question of the angels, and can confidently assert what is con-
trary to their nature, and what in accordance with it. What,
we may well ask, has physical science, in any present, or as
far as we can see any possible future development of it, to do
with such matters as these?

That there are difficulties to our understanding in both
the natural and the supernatural world, and in the relations
between the two, no one will deny. But it is to be feared that
the difficulties found by Dr. Mivart were rather subjective than
objective. The difficulty really was not so much in seeing how
b^th revelation and natural science could be free from error,
but in admitting that there might be some error in himself.

from an infantrp squad, near tfte

newlp turned sod,
Come crasfting tftree uolleps of

wftite ;
find their ecftoing reels, as a clear

ftugle peals,-

"onelp soul u)carp soldier
Good

Cften tfte trumpet tones rise in a mist, till tfte epes

ike the violets glistening there
Witb tfte tear=drops tftat fall on tfte flowerp pall-

Jlre drooping in tremulous praper :

Jlnd tfte clarion loud, and tfte eddping cloud.

Roll tftrougft Reoerie's world far au>ap-
In tfte fturrping tftrong, and tfte wild trumpet song,

flt tfte call for tfte Judgment arrap.

FRANCIS B, DOHERTY.

366 THE ELECTIVE SYSTEM OF STUDIES. [June,

THE ELECTIVE SYSTEM OF STUDIES.*

BY REV. JAMES A. BURNS, C.S.C. (Notre Dame University}.

[is not easy to determine exactly the extent to
which the principle of election of studies has
been adopted in American colleges, but there
can be no doubt that, in one form or another,
it obtains in by far the greater number. Out
o'f a list of 422 colleges, in the last annual report of the Com-
missioner of Education, I find that 322, or 76 per cent., have
an elective system. The number of Catholic colleges in the
list is 40, and all but three of these have the system of a sin-
gle, uniform curriculum. If we omit the 40 Catholic colleges,
for the sake of comparison, we find that 84 per cent, of all the
rest permit election of studies. Moreover, of the 60 non-
Catholic colleges that adhere to the single, uniform system,
more than one-half are situated in States where education is
notoriously backward, many of them being institutions for the
education of the colored race, and in efficiency little better
than high-schools. We may conclude, then, that the great
majority of non-Catholic colleges, and practically all the more
reputable ones among them, have accepted and embodied in
their curricula the principle of election of studies.

But the elective system is not confined to the college. The
past decade has witnessed its extension even to the high-
school. The tendency in this direction has steadily grown
from year to year, and, if we may judge from events, it is
likely to continue to grow in the future. It is a significant
sign of the times that the principals of the high-schools of
Chicago, at a recent meeting, unanimously adopted a resolu-
tion advocating election of studies ; and that the National Edu-
cational Association, last summer, formally declared for " the
necessity and the wisdom of the principle of election in sec-
ondary schools."

The famous Report of the Committee of Ten is probably

^ A paper read at the meeting of the Association of Catholic Colleges, Chicago, April
18, 1900.

1900.] THE ELECTIVE SYSTEM OF STUDIES. 367

responsible for this movement in the high-schools, though it is
impossible to tell just what influence may have been exercised
by transatlantic educational systems to which we look up with
reverence. France and Germany recognize the elective prin-
ciple in their secondary school programmes, which include the
ground usually covered by both our high-schools and colleges.
In Great Britain it is recognized in the leading collegiate in-
stitutions, even conservative Oxford, but does not seem to
have gained a firm foothold as yet in the public high-schools.
In the lyctes of France there are two parallel courses of study
one in the classics, and the other in modern languages and
science ; in the German gymnasium system there are the same,
with a third course which is in the nature of a compromise
between the other two. All of these courses carry the pupil
up to about his eighteenth year, and it is remarkable that this
differentiation of educational methods begins at the very be-
ginning of the pupil's secondary instruction, and at the very
early age of nine years.

To attempt to account for the dominance of the elective
principle in modern collegiate education by the cry of " fad,"
would be to shut one's eyes to the facts. It is a great mistake
to assume that the elective system is of recent origin. As a
matter of fact, the realschulen of Germany date back to the
middle of the eighteenth century, and have grown to present
form and power side by side with the classical gymnasia. The
elective idea took root at Harvard as early as 1825. At the
time of President Eliot's inauguration, in 1869, about one-half
of the work of the three upper classes had been made elective.
The elective system, such as it exists to-day, is the result of a
process of growth from a very small beginning, and at most
American colleges its growth has been in the face of the
most strenuous and persistent opposition. It is a striking proof
of the strength of the elective movement, and of the power of
the conservative forces within it, that while it is rare to-day
to find a non-Catholic educator of prominence who is not an
advocate of election of studies, it is not less rare to find one
who favors its extreme development as exhibited at Harvard,
if we except the faculty of Harvard itself.

II.

Notwithstanding their wide divergence of form and perplex-
ing diversity of detail, I think we can comprise the main
characteristics of all elective college systems under three lead-

368 THE ELECTIVE SYSTEM OF STUDIES. [June,

ing types. The first is what may be called the Group System,
and consists of two or more parallel courses of study leading
to the same baccalaureate degree or to equivalent degrees.
This is the prevailing system at Notre Dame, and as I am
more familiar with its working there, my remarks upon this
point shall have special reference to Notre Dame. Each
group, as a rule, comprises three kinds of studies : studies
common to all the groups, studies proper to each group, and
studies that are 'elective. At Notre Dame, if we omit tech-
nical courses, there are five groups of studies that are recog-
nized as leading to equivalent degrees : the Latin-Greek, Latin-
English, History, Economics, General Science, and Biology.
The studies common to all are Christian doctrine, philosophy,
and English. In the Classical, or Latin-Greek group, the
studies proper are Latin, Greek, and history ; while in all but
its senior year there is one elective. In the General Science
group the studies proper are the natural and physical sciences,
with mathematics ; in the third year of this group the work is
largely, and in the last year it is almost entirely elective. The
Group System is the prevailing form of the elective system in
American colleges to-day ; and it is plain that, while offering
more or less latitude of choice, depending chiefly on the num-
ber of the groups, it effectively secures coherency in any plan
of studies that the student may elect.

Secondly, there is what I may call the Princeton Elective
System, consisting of a single course of studies leading to the
degree of A. B., the studies of the first two years being mainly
prescribed, and those of the last two elective. At Princeton
the studies of the first two years do not differ very materially
from those of the first two years in Catholic colleges. During
the last two years the range of electives is very wide, consist-
ing of 47 courses in the third year, and in in the fourth; yet
these are so skilfully arranged, with reference to class hours,
that only about 15 courses are ordinarily open to the student
in any one session of the junior or senior years. The chief
point of interest, however, lies in the character of the electives
themselves. As ordinarily permitted, the electives of the last
two years may be regarded as simply extensions of subjects
already seen. Under this system, therefore, if strictly adhered
to, it would be difficult for the student, in any combination of
studies, to fail in preserving a certain coherency of choice ;
but in practice, both at Princeton and elsewhere, considerable
latitude seems to be allowed in the election of studies that

1900.] THE ELECTIVE SYSTEM OF STUDIES. 369

have little or no connection with the earlier work of the
course. The Princeton System prevails at most of the State
universities, in the course leading to the degree of A. B. It
is generally accompanied, however, by a number of other
courses, more or less prescribed, leading to equivalent degrees.
Thirdly, there is the Harvard System, representing the ex-
tremest development of the principle of election of studies.
The Harvard System, theoretically at least, is very simple: 18
full courses of instruction are required for the Bachelor's de-
gree, and 16 of these are elective. The student must make
choice of four full electives each year, and there are 400 or so
to choose from. In view of the statement in the catalogue, that
" Any plan of study, deliberately made and adhered to, is
more profitable than studies chosen from year to year, without
plan, under the influence of temporary preferences," it is
natural to inquire, What are the means relied on at Harvard
for securing this necessary unity? President Eliot has given
us the answer himself. " A well-instructed youth of eighteen,"
he says, " can select for himself a better course of study than
any college faculty, or any wise man who does not know him
and his ancestors and his previous life, can possibly select for
him."* In other words, the responsibilities of the situation are
to be thrown upon the student himself. Still, there are some
safeguards. The number of courses regularly open to fresh-
men is reduced to about thirty, and each freshman is required
to submit his choice of. studies, for approval, to a member of
the faculty who acts as his adviser. English is prescribed for
each of the first three years, though this prescription, I believe,
is soon to be abolished. There is a system of class honors
which ought to make for concentration of work, but the num-
ber of candidates for honors seems to be relatively small. In
the year 1897-98 only 19 gained second year honors, and as
many more finals, though the number of honorable mentions
amounted to 152.

Under the almost absolute freedom of studies now per-
mitted at Harvard, it would be necessary, before passing judg-
ment upon the Harvard System, to examine in detail the
electives of the students for the whole four years of the
course ; and this it is not possible to do at present. In a
general way, however, we can ascertain the drift of the elec-
tives, and it is important for us to note their special trend.
The following table is based on the published report of the

* Educational Reform, p. 132.
VOL. LXXI. 24

370 THE ELECTIVE SYSTEM OF STUDIES. [June,

Dean of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences for the last scholas-
tic year, and exhibits in order the twelve studies most popular
that year with the regular candidates for the degree of A. B.*
It appears, then, that in the year 1898-9 there were, in

History, . . 1,205 choices. Government, . 462 choices.

English, . . 1,135 " Chemistry, . 338

Economics, . 916 " Geology, . . 298 "

French, . . 6n " Greek, ... 278

German, . . 583 " Latin, . . . 276 "

Philosophy, 540 " Mathematics, 200 4<

The number of regular collegiate students the same year was
1,683.

It will be observed that three of the four staples of Catho-
lic collegiate education are at the very bottom of the list; and
that economics, French and German, which have scarcely found
a footing with us as yet, are well up towards the top. History,
with its cognates, economics and government, received 2,583
choices, or about 33 per cent, of the total number made. The
position of Latin and Greek, at almost the bottom of the list,
is especially remarkable. The combined total of choices in
these amount to no more than 7 per cent, of the whole. It
appears that only about one-fourth of the students take Latin
and Greek. The greater number of choices in Greek than Latin
is easily explained. A largely attended course of lectures on
the life of the ancient classical peoples is given in alternate
years to students of Latin and Greek, and the superior popu-
larity of Greek during the year in question was due to this
course. It is remarkable that more than one-half of all the
choices in Greek made by seniors and juniors appertained to
two courses, one of which advertises stereopticon illustration,
and the other, the rather peculiar recommendation that it re-
quires no knowledge of Greek. In view of the fact that not
less than 90 per cent, of the candidates for the freshman class
have studied both Latin and Greek in the preparatory schools,
it is strange that so small a proportion continues these studies
in college. After spending three or four years in the high-
school, in mastering the elements of the classics, to break off

*At Harvard each student is required to choose 4 full elective courses each year, or 8
half-courses, and the basis upon which I have sought to estimate the relative popularity of
studie^ is the number of actual electives chosen in any study during the year. The term
"choice," therefore, as used in this table, means one full elective course chosen by a student,
or its equivalent of two half courses.

1900.] THE ELECTIVE SYSTEM OF STUDIES. 371

the study just about the time the higher educative influence
of classical literature ought to begin, must involve an enor-
mous waste of intellectual effort, and reflect back a baneful in-
fluence upon the spirit of high-school work. The scant respect
paid the ancient classics by the average high-school pupil,
after entering Harvard College, is a grave impeachment, to my
mind, of the soundness of President Eliot's contention upon
which the Harvard System is built that " It is only the in-
dividual youth who can select that course of study which will
most profit him." *

III.

This rapid and necessarily imperfect sketch of representa-
tive types of the elective system brings me to the main topic
of my paper the desirability of that system in Catholic col-
leges, or, the respective merit of the elective, as compared with
the single prescribed system at present prevailing with us.
The question is broad and complicated, and, in the limited
space at my disposal, I can do no more than elucidate its main
features, or at least bring them within the arena of wholesome
discussion. It would be absurd to deny that each of these
systems has its points of excellence ; and the one-sided claims
so often set up may be largely conceded, I think, without af-
fecting very much the sum total of the respective merit of
either. I am firmly persuaded that the discussion, as usually
carried on, fails to bring out sufficiently the vital point of the
difference between the two systems. The questions of the re-
spective merit of the classics and various other branches ; of
respective student scholarship and character ; of lecture and
tutorial systems, and so on, are highly important, it is true, but
after all they are only ancillary. They amount to no more than
the question of means, and the question of means must ever,
in the nature of things, be subordinate to that of end. What
is the good of disputing about the means to be used if we are
totally and hopelessly at variance respecting the end to be
reached ? I should like to impress upon the members of this
conference that the vital question to-day between these two
systems is the question of end or ideal.

It was a fundamental change of conviction respecting the
idea of college training that gave birth to the elective system.
The growth of knowledge, the multiplication of arts and
sciences, the increasing differentiation of intellectual life, was

* Educational Reform , p. 135.

372 THE ELECTIVE SYSTEM OF STUDIES. [June,

reflected back upon the college, and resulted in an increasing
differentiation of youthful minds. The influences of heredity
and early environment reproduced themselves in special apti-
tudes in the mind of the boy. In an intellectual way, it was
only the operation of a familiar law of animal and vegetable
life the law of the tendency of species towards the perpetua-
tion of the type. Accordingly, among educators the belief
grew up that the function of the college ought to include, not
only the training of the general powers of the mind but the
unfolding, fostering, and perfecting of special individual capaci-
ties as well. A new ideal of college training arose in this way,
and it was from this ideal that the new or elective system
sprang. The educational unit became the college student,
instead of the college class, and the old ideal the ideal of the
" rounded and harmonious mental development " of all gave
place to the new ideal of the development of the individual
capacities, tastes, and powers of each.

In my opinion the question of the respective merit of the
two systems resolves itself into the simpler question of the
merit of these two ideals. With the view now of throwing
some light upon this problem, and of provoking fruitful!
thought and discussion, I suggest for consideration the follow-
ing facts :

1. It is undeniable that special mental aptitudes occur in
youth, even from the very beginning of the college course. It
is equally true, no doubt, that all boys have minds that are es-
sentially the same ; but I think it is within every teacher's ex-
perience that certain boys possess or develop extraordinary
taste or ability along special lines.

2. It is to the interest of society, as well as to the interest
of the student himself, that such aptitudes should be fostered
and developed, for upon their development must depend,
very largely, the further progress of knowledge and civilization.

3. The cultivation of special aptitudes of the kind, if right
and desirable at all, should not be neglected in the college.
The college cannot shift the responsibility onto the university,
on the ground that the latter .is the proper place for special-
ization. The reason is, that only a very small proportion of
college graduates ever go to universities ; and, moreover, the
university courses themselves presuppose, on the part of the
college student, some degree of concentration of studies. I
have" been informed, on very trustworthy authority, that no
graduate of a college in which the uniform curriculum obtains

1900.] THE ELECTIVE SYSTEM OF STUDIES. 373

may hope for admittance to most of the courses in Johns Hop-
kins University, without an extra year or so of preparation ;
and this, not from prejudice, or any desire of discrimination,
but simply from the student's unfitness for the highly special-
ized work of the university, through lack of necessary prelimi-
nary concentration.

4. In determining the ideal, the life-purpose of the student
must be taken into consideration. This is a practical age, and
the college of to day must not only turn out cultured gentle-
men, but must enable a young man to fit himself, if need be,
for some useful career in life. Since the great majority of col-
lege graduates never go to a university or professional school,
it is plain that, in their case at least, the college must do this
work, if it is to be done at all. With the onward march of
civilization, and the increasing diversity of intellectual occupa-
tions, the demands upon the college in this way will be also
likely to increase. It is to the merit of the elective system that
it lends itself readily to any special preparation of the kind that
may be desired.

5. The values commonly assigned to educational subjects are
not fixed and invariable, but may and do vary with the nature
of the mind that is to be educated. Given, for instance, a boy
with a strong taste for letters. Some educators say : You must
develop all the powers of his mind harmoniously ; and, accord-
ingly, they give him the classics and English for expression,
history for reflection, the sciences for observation, mathematics
for ratiocination, and so on. The question is, however, might
not such a boy find better and more easily assimilated food for
the same faculties in matters more cognate and congenial ?
Might he not find better exercise for his reason in Goethe and
Descartes, or Dante, than in differential calculus and mechan-
ics ?* Might not the study of the growth and formation of a
language the study of Anglo-Saxon, for example prove a
better training in observation for him than chemical analysis
and higher physics? It is a matter of educational values
values in the estimation of which, it seems to me, we cannot
safely, in the present state of our knowledge, lose sight of the
personal equation.

In view of these facts I should give an affirmative answer
to the question, " Is election of studies in the curricula of our
colleges desirable?"

* Most of our leading Catholic colleges require of all students calculus, analytical geome-
try, and mechanics, besides chemistry and physics.

374 THE ELECTIVE SYSTEM OF STUDIES. [June,

IV.

The adoption of the elective principle would involve abso-
lutely no change, necessarily, in that which constitutes the
distinctive and essential prerogative of Catholic education the
Christian atmosphere. It would involve no abandonment of
the principle of unity of studies, which Catholic educators have
rightly clung to so tenaciously ; for by either the " Group " or
the " Princeton " elective system, as I have shown, whatever
the details of practical operation, the essentials of unity may
be preserved. It would mean little practical difficulty in the
way of increase of teaching staff or expense, inasmuch as many
of our colleges already have advanced classes in the sciences
and mathematics. Add to these the modern languages and
philosophy, and you have at once a good outline for a course
in general science. Indeed, it was shown in a paper read be-
fore this conference last year that not far from one-half as
much time is given at present to mathematics and science,
in a large number of Catholic colleges, as is given in leading
non-Catholic colleges to all the studies of the general science
course.

The adoption of the elective principle will relieve our
colleges from the pressure of a curriculum which is already
overcrowded, and to which a steadily increasing number of
new subjects, such as modern languages, the political and
social sciences, are clamoring for admittance. It will tend to
raise the standard of scholarship, both in professors and pupils,
by making possible enthusiasm for congenial work. " A
crowded curriculum," it has been well said, " is a curriculum of
superficialities, where men are for ever occupied with alphabets
and multiplication tables."* It will go far, I believe, towards
checking the terrible drain of our best blood and brains to
non-Catholic institutions. It was shown very clearly in the
conference of last year that this tendency is in the nature of
a drift a strong and steady drift from the public high-schools,
where most Catholic lads get their preparatory training, into
the non-Catholic colleges and State universities. Can we
reasonably hope to be able to check this drift, until we re-
move from our colleges the barrier of .broader demands with
narrower opportunities? The adoption of the principle of
election of studies will bring our college system into harmony
with those of the most enlightened and progressive nations of

* Palmer, Andover Review, 5, 396.

i goo.] S UK SUM CORD A. 375

the old world, as well as with the best and most conservative
non-Catholic educational opinion here at home. The policy of
"splendid isolation" is fraught with grave embarrassments and
dangers.

Catholic educators have kept alive the spirit of the ancient
culture in an age in which the ruthless excesses of modern
tendencies threatened its extinction. The world will yet be
grateful for the service. In an educational way. it may be
said, they have done what the old religious copyists did in the
days of barbarism. But to-day the work is done. The lesson
has had its effect. There are no stronger advocates of classical
culture now than the descendants of the men who would have
destroyed it. To continue to cling to the old system, in face
of the new conditions, would be just as unreasonable, in my
opinion, as for the men of olden time to have continued to
copy after the invention of printing.

HEART of hearts! the chalice of love's fire,
Bound round with thorns and sealed with thy doom ;
O wonderful and perfect Heart ! toward whom
Our weakling hearts should willingly aspire ;

O heavenly Heart, at thy most dear desire

Dead Lazarus, praising, cleft the tomb !

And with him, regent in death's room,

All day the chanting hosts of heavenly choir

Praised Thee, whose tender love did run so strong.

O sole thing sweetest in this life of pain !

Help us, for thy love's sake, to free

Our hearts of hateful tyranny. Among

Thy saints to raise our hearts to Thine, most fair,

And bless us now and for eternity.

HELEN M. SWEENEY.

376 A PLAN IN THE HISTORY OF NATURE. [June,

A PLAN IN THE HISTORY OF NATURE.

BY WILLIAM SETON, LL.D.

E believe we may say without fear of contradic-
tion that there is no study so interesting as the
study of Nature. Yet it may not always be
conducive to happiness. Unless we have faith
in a good and omnipotent Being who is over-
seeing creation, the contemplation of the world we live in
makes rather for sadness than for joy. Our finite senses do
not anywhere find peace and repose ; nothing seems to be
fixed ; everything is changing, moving on toward a goal which
is hidden from us. But if we are cheered by the light of faith
the study of nature becomes a delight. And may we not be-
lieve that the Almighty did not intend that the things which he
created should be, as it were, stereotyped that they should stand
still and remain just what they were at the beginning? Nor
do we believe it was his will that Man the noblest work of
his hands should, as he waxed in knowledge, take always the
same view of nature as he took in his innocent, childlike days.
Certainly, so far as we can see into the distant past, there has
been growth and struggle and development going on during
millions of years. And may it not enter into God's plan that
this growth and struggle and development should continue
during millions of years to come ? The great Architect wrought
his own handiwork gradually, little by little, in six periods of
time, instead of in the twinkling of an eye. And where
could we find a better exemplar than this of the unfolding
and the changing which the student of nature recognizes in
whatever direction he turns ?

And now let us consider briefly how different man's view of
nature is to-day from the view which he took in days gone by.
The Greeks than whom no people ever had so much genius
believed that the earth was flat and that the sea flowed all
round it ; and this they believed until Aristotle, several cen-
turies before the Christian era, told them that the earth was
round. But even Aristotle was not able to convince everybody
of the truth of what he said, and centuries afterwards many of
the Fathers of the church while they did not reject the

1900.] A PLAN IN THE HISTORY OF NATURE. 377

sphericity of the earth treated the question as one that was
open to free discussion.* But if Aristotle taught correctly that
our earth .is round, another learned man, Claudius Ptolemy, an
Egyptian, A. D. 100, was mistaken when he taught that the
world stood still in the centre of the sun, planets, and stars. f
He founded what is called the Ptolemaic system of astronomy;
and we must admit that his system explained a good deal, for
the effect is the same whether you turn round a ball, or a ball
turns round you. And for more than a thousand years after
Ptolemy it was believed that our earth was the centre of the
universe. But in the first half of the fifteenth century Nicholas
Copernicus, a canon of the church of Frauenburg, in Prussia,
wrote a book entitled De revolutionibus orbium, in which he
maintained that the earth revolved round the sun once every
year; and Copernicus may be called the founder of modern
astronomy. But people were so certain that the old-time teach-
ing of Ptolemy was correct, that for many years Copernicus
was afraid to publish his book, and it was not till more than
sixty years after his death that another astronomer took up
the study of the Copernican theory and soon became con-
vinced of its truth. Yet Galileo knew how very difficult it
would be to prove that it was the earth which moved round
the sun and not the sun round the earth, happily, just at this
time a Dutch spectacle-maker invented an instrument which
made things that were far off appear close by, and Galileo at
once set to work and made for himself a telescope. It magni-
fied an object only eight times. But with it he discovered four
of Jupiter's moons ; he saw them moving round the giant planet,
and this discovery added strength to the theory of Copernicus.
Then from Jupiter Galileo turned his little telescope on the
tiny planet Venus, and he observed her making the whole jour-
ney round the sun, and not round our earth as Ptolemy had
taught that she did. He likewise made other discoveries which
proved that Copernicus was right when he said that our earth
is not the centre of the universe. But these discoveries con-
tradicted the literal sense of certain passages of the Bible, and
it was for this reason that a theological censure was pro-
nounced upon Galileo. To quote from a late number of the
London Tablet (March 31, p. 483): "The Roman congregation
which condemned Galileo was certainly under the impression

* Very Rev. A. F. Hewit, THE CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE, August, 1891, p. 681.
t Aristarchus, a Greek astronomer, three centuries before the Christian era, had dis-
covered that the sun was fixed and that the earth travelled round it.

3;8 A PLAN IN THE Hi STORY OF NATURE. [June,

that the Copernican theory was contrary to the teaching of the
Church." But, as Father Hewit tells us, " The case of Galileo
is the one signal instance of the condemnation of a true scien-
tific theory by ecclesiastical authority." *

By this time, as we see, the scientific knowledge of man
had so far increased as to- allow him to believe that the earth
was not flat but round. He was also able now to believe that
the earth revolved round the sun and not the sun round the
earth. Still, nobody had yet gone so far as to declare 'that it
was a very old world ; probably not more than six thousand
years could have elapsed since the creation. But to-day no-
body doubts that the earth is millions of years old. We know,
too, from fossil remains that not very far from the north pole,
where at present we find nothing but ice, there was once a
genial climate and a luxuriant vegetation. Nor are we any
longer asked to believe in a universal Deluge, which drowned
the whole human race except Noe and his family.f But
marked as these changes are in our understanding of God's
handiwork, the belief that he had created animals and plants
pretty much as they exist in our time was generally held by
learned men until quite recent years. But now, as our century
is closing, no naturalist believes this. The doctrine of the de-
velopment of organic life is to-day universally accepted by stu-
dents of nature, and, to quote Bishop Hedley, of Newport, Eng-
land : " But, first of all, it should be well borne in mind that the
foremost Catholic men of science of the day not only hold a
theory of evolution but consider that there can be no doubt
on the matter." J They one and all perceive how reasonable
a doctrine the doctrine of organic evolution is. The Creator
at the beginning wisely endowed plants and animals with the
power to adapt themselves to their environment ; to change
with changing conditions of life ; to respond to extrinsic
factors acting on them. And only think what changes in
climate, in food, in the distribution of land and water, have
taken place even during the comparatively brief time that hi
elapsed since the opening of what is known as the Tertiary age,
or, let us say, during the past two million years ! Not a little
of the evidence which has brought about this very general ac-
ceptance of the doctrine of development has been furnished by
geology and palaeontology. But the new science of embryology

*.THE CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE, August, 1891, p. 682.
t" La localisation du Deluge et les peripeties de la question." Revue Thomiste, Sep-
tember, 1898. \ Dublin Review, October, 1898, p. 246.

1900.] A PLAN IN THE HISTORY OF NATURE. 379

has also contributed very strong evidence. To quote again
from Bishop Hedley : " The facts of embryology are undoubt-
edly striking and suggest evolution." *

In a few words, embryology is the study of the various
stages of development of living beings until they reach the adult
type. At a certain stage of development it is impossible (except
by its size) to distinguish the embryo of a fish from the embryo
of a reptile, a bird, or a mammal. But by and by the fish di-
verges upon a road of its own. Then when the reptile has grown
somewhat bigger it, too, branches off, leaving only the bird
and the mammal remaining of the same form. Then presently
the bird's embryo takes on the aspect of a bird. And finally
the mammars embryo, after passing through the fish-like, the
reptilian, and the bird-like stages, takes on the shape of a
mammal. Another striking fact is that in the embryo of the
reptile, of the bird, and of the mammal we discover on the
sides of the neck openings whose structure resembles the gill-
arches of a fish. The gill-arches persist through the force of
heredity ; they point to ancestral conditions : to a water-breath-
ing ancestry .f But we must admit that in order to duly appre-
ciate the weight of embryological evidence one needs to be a
trained biologist.

Having now briefly reviewed a few of the secrets which
man has been allowed by the Creator to wring from nature,
what marvellous revelations may not the ages to come have in
store for us ? Man is surely growing in intelligence. Yet he
is only beginning to understand himself. It seems only yester-
day that he was burning and hanging lunatics, believing that
they were witches and demoniacs. Our near-by forefathers
were children in regard to many scientific matters. But the
day may not be far off when the mind will no longer be al-
most a terra incognita to science. We believe that we shall ob-
tain a clear insight into the physiology and psychology of
sleep, and a deeper study of heredity may give our descend-
ants a more correct view of the limitations of the Will.

We may also be able one day to explain why when we
throw a stone into the air it falls back to the earth. By close-
ly observing, too, the contraction of the sun's disc it may even
be possible in some future age to tell about how long the sun
will continue to supply heat ; how long it will be before the sun
dies. To conclude, we say again that we believe it was the Crea-

* Dublin Keview, October, 1898, p. 254.

t The gifl-arches minus gills persist through life and are known as aortic arches.

380 PAINTED! [June,

tor's plan that the work of his hands should be ever slowly chang-
ing and developing. The world in which man is placed is not
to-day what it was at the beginning. Nor is it to-day what it
will be in the future. Think what wonderful changes man may
witness, what undreamed-of discoveries man may make in the
next ten thousand years ! It is not improbable that man has
passed through one glacial epoch ; he may live to see another.
We therefore repeat, that the study of nature would afford us
very little joy if we did not believe that in the midst of so
much that is changing and fleeting there is an Infinite Being
who is guiding all things for our good and who Himself does
not change.

SAW a rose to-day, red as a bride's soft cheek,
And bearing like a high-born dame its blushing

beauty ;

But through its veins burst not the tide of life,
Nor flung its scented kisses to the air.
It languished not when the warm breath of love
Fell o'er it, nor withered at the mockery of time.
A painted rose, sapless as the heart of falsehood !

II.

Again, to-day, I saw a man of knightly presence

Move in the cultured rhythm of his ways :

A smile was on his lips, a smile that lured ;

The outward grace of manhood sat upon his brow,

And yet forsooth a painted man ! Nor love, nor truth,

Nor honor flowed in his dry veins, nor honest blood :

His heart a desecrated hearthstone, black with sin and ashes!

WILLIAM P. CANTWELL.

igoo.] THE CA THOLIC LA YMAN IN HIGHER EDUCA TION. 381
THE CATHOLIC LAYMAN IN HIGHER EDUCATION.

BY THOMAS P. KERNAN.

'MOTHER collegiate year is drawing to a close,
and again Catholics are forced to admit the
melancholy fact that there are many Catholic
students attending non-Catholic universities, and
that there are many others preparing to enter
their freshman classes in September. Can anything be done
to diminish at least the number of Catholic boys at Protestant
institutions of learning and to turn them towards our own col-
leges and universities?

It is doubtless true that some Catholics send their sons to
certain non-Catholic colleges, notably to Harvard and Yale, for
the reason that these colleges may be termed popular colleges,
and that a majority of their students come from families who
move in the best society. If by this phrase " best society "
we mean people of education and refinement, the desire on the
part of Catholic parents that their sons should move in the
" best society " is laudable and excusable. I am no theologian,
but I presume it is not even a venial sin for parents to move
in a good social sphere and to desire that their children should
do likewise. On the other hand, if Catholic parents themselves
do not move in the most cultured society, it is presumably not
a mortal sin for them to desire that their children should rise
in the world socially. Some decry this desire on the part of
parents as mere snobbishness. Whether it is or not, the desire
seems to be found among the sentiments of most American
parents, Protestant and Catholic alike, and parental feelings,
right or wrong, reasonable or unreasonable, must be taken
into some account in discussing educational subjects.

As Almighty God holds parents responsible for the bring-
ing-up of their children, he doubtless gives them, in his loving
providence, a knowledge of what kind of education is best for
their offspring. That parents are oftentimes too indulgent to
their children, and are influenced by worldly advantages in
selecting schools and colleges for them, is, unfortunately, only
too true. But we must take parents as they are. With all
their faults they are still parents, and the natural judges of

382 THE CA THOLIC LA YMAN IN HIGHER ED UCA TION. [June,

how their children ought to be brought up. Good parents
usually have correct views implanted in their nature by the
Creator and nourished by Divine Grace, on the subject of the
training and education of their own children.

Believing in the responsibility of parents to Almighty God
for the bringing-up and education of their children, I favor the
idea that Catholic schools and college authorities should give
fathers a voice in the management of these institutions. In
the opinion of many it would be a positive advantage to all
Catholic schools and colleges if there were a few Catholic lay-
men among their trustees or directors.

There are many practical questions arising as to the gov-
ernment of a school or college, in which the opinion of a
learned layman, an able lawyer, an experienced physician, a
successful banker, or a practical business man would be valua-
ble. Why, then, it may be respectfully asked, do not our
Catholic schools and college authorities enlarge their consulta-
tion rooms and admit a few Catholic gentlemen on their boards
of trustees ? Protestant schools and colleges for both sexes
are administered largely by laymen, and their financial success
is undoubtedly greatly due to the business methods of the
laymen, and to their general superiority in this respect to
clergymen. Professors and scholars are often very poor busi-
ness men, and it is likely that the finances of a college and
possibly their domestic arrangements tending to the health and
comfort of the students, would be materially benefited by the
advice of practical men of the world.

Catholic laymen are often told nowadays from the pulpit
and lecture platform that they should co-operate more with
the clergy in good works of a social and educational nature.
But how can they, if their advice is never asked and they are
given no place on the governing boards of institutions ? Such
Catholic institutions as have Catholic laymen among their direc-
tors and trustees as, for instance, the Catholic Protectory, New
York City have received valuable assistance from the lay trus-
tees. Is it not reasonable to suppose that all Catholic institu-
tions, including schools and colleges, would be equally benefited
by giving laymen an active voice in their management ? In all
cities there are a number of Catholic laymen of piety and brains,
and oftentimes of wealth. And their piety and brains, whether
accompanied with wealth or not, would be of service to the
church if employed in educational problems.

Francis Kernan, as one of the regents of the State of New

1900.] THE CA THOLIC LA YMAN IN HIGHER ED UCA TION. 383

York, obtained for Catholic parochial schools in New York
State a number of rights and privileges from the Board of Re-
gents. And the fact that he was an able lawyer probably en-
abled him to obtain concessions for our parochial schools that
no clergyman could have obtained. At another time, when a
senator at Washington, Mr. Kernan was instrumental in having
the government of the District of Columbia remit a large
amount of taxes unjustly assessed upon Georgetown College.
These facts are here referred to as a proof that Catholic lay-
men can be of great use to Catholic schools and colleges.

Were several Catholic laymen admitted on all the govern
ing boards of Catholic schools and colleges, priests and laymen
would be able to co-operate far more effectively in the good
work of Catholic education. There would grow up, moreover,
more intimate and helpful relations between the presidents and
faculties of colleges and their alumni. A still further advan-
tage might be the loosening of the purse-strings of wealthy
Catholics and greater inclination on their part to endow insti-
tutions of learning. It is human nature to endow more gen-
erously when one has some voice, directly or indirectly, in the
spending of the endowment.

If every Catholic school and college in the United States
at their next commencement were to honor several of their
distinguished alumni by placing them among their directors,
or trustees, Catholic laymen would certainly appreciate the
honor, and, possibly, great good might result to these institu-
tions.

Where schools and colleges are controlled by religious or-
ders of men, the objection may be made that the constitution
and rules of these orders do not allow of their admitting lay-
men on their governing boards. If such is the case, might
not an amendment be made to their constitutions to meet the
case ?

The Catholic University, the highest of our Catholic insti-
tutions of learning, has several laymen among its trustees.
Why might not all our colleges ? Catholic churches have
laymen among their trustees ; why should not institutions of
learning ?

Some would argue that it would be beneficial to convent
schools to have several ladies or gentlemen on their governing
boards. Our noble orders of teaching sisters would hardly be
inclined, it is to be feared, to look with favor upon such an
innovation ; yet it would appear reasonable that the advice of

384 TME CA THOLIC LA YMAN IN HIGHER EDUCA TION. [June,

a devout Catholic father or mother could help even holy nuns
in the practical and financial details of running a school.

It should be remembered that if laymen were placed among
the trustees of Catholic colleges, and ladies or gentlemen
among the directors of convent schools, that they would
always be in the minority, and that the clergy or sisters, as
the case might be, could always overrule their opinions. If no
good resulted from the suggested innovation, no harm would
necessarily follow.

The Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur, in founding their new
college for women at Washington, known as Trinity College,
are following a broad and liberal plan. Some twenty-one
ladies have been asked to form an "Auxiliary Board of
Regents of Trinity College," and, according to the constitution,
they "have associated themselves together for the purpose of
assisting and equipping Trinity College, Washington." These
lady regents have appointed vice-regents in different cities, and
undoubtedly this influential body of ladies will interest others
in Trinity College and in many ways advance its interests.
Perhaps a somewhat similar *' auxiliary board " composed of
the alumni of a Catholic college would accomplish equally
great results for their Alma Mater.

To return to my first question : What will cause Catholic
young men to seek an education in Catholic colleges instead
of Protestant colleges?

It has been suggested that a Catholic college, founded near
the grounds of the Catholic University at Washington, and
conducted on liberal, modern methods, would do it. Could
any one of our learned religious orders of men undertake the
task, it would be peculiarly well suited for the work. If no
religious order would undertake founding a new college, were
the Catholic laymen of the country to subscribe four or five
hundred thousand dollars they could found a new college, and
Catholic laymen of learning and exp-ertence in teaching could
be found to fill the various chairs. A similar college con-
trolled by laymen exists in Belgium and is doing successful
educational work.

Catholic colleges in the United States, and good ones, are
plentiful ; but to attract the class of Catholic young men who
go to Harvard and Yale, what we need is a popular, fashion-
able Catholic college. Harvard, Yale, Princeton, and some
other Protestant institutions may justly be described as high-
grade, fashionable universities. Would there be any moral

1900.] THE CA T HO Lie LA YMAN IN HIGHER EDUCA TION. 385

harm in Catholics having one or two fashionable, high-toned
colleges ? St. Paul speaks of being all things to all men. Is
it not allowable to be fashionable innocently fashionable to
gain souls and keep them in the church ? Here the opinion
of a theologian would be of service. It is mentioned in the
life of St. Francis Xavier, and in that of some other saints,
that at times they dressed .fashionably, and according to the
custom of high caste natives of India and China, the more
readily to convert them to the faith. In Europe, in Rome
itself, the centre of Catholicity, fashionable schools and col-
leges for the exclusive patronage of the nobility have long
since been founded. Consequently it would seem in no way
wrong that fashionable, expensive schools and colleges should
exist in the United States for the education of the sons of
wealthy Catholics.

Not only are fashionable I can think of no better word-
colleges needed in our country, but fashionable i.e., expensive
high-toned, exclusive boarding-schools and day schools for
boys and .girls respectively, would meet with a liberal Catholic
patronage nowadays in the United States. The number -of
wealthy, cultivated Catholic families is large ; and many chil-
dren in these families are attending non-Catholic private day-
schools and boarding-schools.

It would seem that if enterprising Catholics were to estab-
lish fashionable schools for young boys and girls they would
find them a paying investment, and would help, at the same
time, to keep the children of wealthy Catholics in the church.
The profession of teaching is a noble and fairly lucrative one.
Why do not Catholic ladies and gentlemen who are fitted for
it adopt it more generally as a means of livelihood ? Probably
because outside of the public schools there is little or no field
for Catholic lay teachers. Protestant gentlemen establish and
conduct all manner of schools as a money-making business.
Why should not Catholics follow their example? In all our
large cities there are Protestant private, select schools, partly
supported by Catholic patronage.

The work being done by the self-sacrificing efforts of pastor
and people throughout the country for the Catholic education
of the poor in parochial schools is sublime ; but let us not
forget that the church has a mission to the rich as well as to
the poor, and that perhaps the former stand in greater need
of Catholic education than do the latter.

Utica, N. K.

VOL. LXXI. 25

386 CHAIR OF PHILOSOPHY IN TRINITY COLLEGE. [June,

CHAIR OF PHILOSOPHY IN TRINITY COLLEGE,
WASHINGTON, D. C.

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

'HE endowment of a chair of Philosophy for
women is a measure the utility of which can-
not be overestimated. Of course it is recog-
nized that women may successfully compete
with men in all the departments of knowledge.
Provision for the higher education of women is made in the
learned institutions of the world ; but, unfortunately, it seems
that Catholics are too much swayed by the notion expressed
by careless Frenchmen, that religion is enough for women, and
that human learning only deteriorates them. The Frenchmen
who say this are men who pay religion the compliment of
avoidance.

Whether or not the study of those subjects which used to
be regarded as solid learning, as distinguished from the elegant
pursuits formerly described as accomplishments of culture,
is an advantage to women, it is now clear that opinion is in
favor of opening to them the whole field of knowledge. It
would be idle indeed to refer to the influence exercised by
women in classical antiquity, what inspiration Greek and
Roman statesmen drew from counsels by their own hearths.
We pass over their valuable sympathy and support in every
age of the church, and in many a momentous crisis. It is
enough that this day of ours demands that woman shall be
man's helpmeet in its own sense.

THE DEMAND FOR HIGHER EDUCATION AMONG WOMEN.

The idea of establishing a chair of philosophy in Trinity
College has the emphatic approval of the Archbishop of New
York. This stamps its claim on the support of the laity of
the archdiocese. We hope that a fund shall be raised worthy of
the spirit of the munificent endowments of the Ages of Faith.
We think just the year before Henry VIII. 's accession his
grandmother completed her endowment of Christ's College,
Cambridge. This woman, who was herself learned, possessed a
virile talent for rule and administration. The government of

1900.] CHAIR OF PHILOSOPHY IN TRINITY COLLEGE. 387

her vast estates might serve as a model for that of kingdoms ;
her judgment in the celebrated arbitration case of the city of
Cambridge and the University of Cambridge is an instance of
the application of legal and equitable principles which would
reflect credit on the most instructed lawyer. She was profound-
ly pious, she had a heart open as^ day to melting charity.

To raise the fund for the proposed chair a committee of
ladies has been appointed by the Archbishop. We need only
say of the committee that it is composed of pious and cultivated
women, and that this work of theirs is not a twentieth
century fancy. It is a work of religion, like the work of ladies
of long ago, their own Catholic predecessors, who promoted
that learning which is the handmaid of religion. Their princi-
ple is the Catholic one, that the wider and deeper the study
of human things the 'better the comprehension of divine.
Reverence for the revelation of God is not diminished by the
appreciation of its necessity, but the more genuine the learn-
ing the clearer is the perception of that necessity. Insoluble
things come into the light, the philosophy of despair is ex-
orcised by the philosophy of Christian science. In the history
of Revelation the perplexed spirit finds the wisdom in which
it may rest. All that can be known here is known ; they are
not phenomena fleeting as vapors that we see they are
realities ; our possession is not like foam on the sea ; it is a
knowledge that goes to where no fathom-line can sink.

PHILOSOPHY ILLUMINATING SCIENCE.

Take a casual instance of the different influences of Catho-
lic thought looking at the Scriptures, and the system of
criticism which is a denial, 'at least a rejection, of philosophic
rules. In this latter an inexplicable immorality is the motive
of a compilation involving insuperable difficulties and for no
conceivable purpose. Knowledge far transcending the measure
of an age, and labor in comparison with which the making of
encyclopaedias like the Britannica would be the employment of
a few leisure hours, are assumed to convince us that one or
two men in the fifth or the sixth century before our Lord
evolved a sole Deity from Babylonian and Assyrian gods and
from the thousand gods of Egypt, and .described a desert life
they had never seen, just as if reports from scientific travellers
were communicated by electricity while they were compiling
their grotesque and monstrous fictions. On the other hand,
the sound philosophy which accepts the reasonable, and which,

388 CHAIR OF PHILOSOPHY IN TRINITY COLLEGE. [June,

illuminated by grace, realizes that the reasonable is the true,
is with us when we think with astonishment of the bowing
down of the Divine Mind to the instruction of his creatures in
those things difficult to know yet necessary to be known, im-
possible to know yet necessary to be known. We see his hand
not as tracing mysterious letters on a wall, but in all the uni-
verse and touching every point of our lives. We are here
speaking of God's intercourse with the soul in what may be
called the ordinary effect of his dealings as we are told of them
in his revelation. There are exceptional instances of his mercy
where the knowledge of his revelation has not reached ; with
these we are not concerned just now we are thinking of what
may be called the universal laws of supernatural guidance and
control which the whole race must know. Now, of these
divine and consoling facts we maintain, in spite of any criti-
cism, that the sacred Scriptures teach a mind formed in a
balanced and judicious school of thought.

We live in a time of great difficulty. Learned bodies are "
trying to defraud people in all conditions of life of their Chris-
tian inheritance. It was not as when, some three or four cen-
turies ago, God's truth was obscured by angry and rebellious
men ; these men left a part of the truth, and in this frag-
mentary Christianity pious souls who came after them found a
shelter. But in the name of science God is driven from crea-
tion or converted into a blind force. For the certainty of his
promises we are offered the ignis fatuus of an emotional sus-
ceptibility or a dead wall covered with empty formulas.
Literature, with the pleasures of a refined taste, the languor of
sensuous sounds, corresponds to the religious side of life ; mi-
crobes, electricity, the spectrum, to its laborious side. For
morality, the reflection in the brook, the mirage of the desert,
nay, the trappings of mock majesty in an asylum for the in-
sane. Something plausible may be said for altruism as the
explanation not merely of interest in others but as the spring
of all external morality. The madman who thinks himself king
is logical in looking for observance from warder and visitor
that approach him. If ever}' assumption of the altruist is con-
ceded, he may justly infer that there is no interior, funda-
mental, and universal morality, coming from God and leading
back to him. If it be the case that certain men know more
about the evolution of life than God, that, like Frankenstein, (
they can so arrange chemical and physical forces as to produce
life an d they speak very much as if this were in their power

i goo.] CHAIR OF PHILOSOPHY IN TRINITY COLLEGE. 389

they are entitled, like the sans-culotte, to declare that God is
abolished.

But God has still a place in the world he made. Men and
women lead hard lives consecrated to others for his, sake. In
the hospitals of European cities, not far from abodes where
blasphemy is the language, where acts are done as in Nineveh
that great city over which for a moment hung dread of the
justice of God Sisters of Charity or devoted men undergo
what, except for the very might He infuses into them, would be
a torture of the senses and of the mind beyond the doom of
tyrants. These are facts of every-day knowledge, which no
theories of a false philosophy can account for ; but women as
well as men, in the sight of the world, must know something of
the explanation of these things ; and for a true explanation
the occupant of such a chair as we have spoken of can be.
relied upon, that teacher can be trusted to send forth minds
to instruct a society which one almost fears bears the marks
and tokens of impending judgment.

CONSCIENCE AND ITS DETRACTORS.

This is no beating of the air in what we write ; conscience
is a disquieting faculty, and to him who knows that there is
more in life than the eidolon of Herodotus' Egyptian banquet
that faculty will not permit him to legard the present except
as a preparation for what is to come when death opens the
door of infinite possibilities. A sound philosophy tells us that
this preparation must be worthy of the destiny which lies be-
>ond; and in this it is very much like a convertible term for
good sense and so a contrast to the words, words, words of
the master-builders of the temples of illusion in which we are
called to worship by the scientific metaphor-makers of today.

We are convinced there is a tribunal within. We accept
its judgments. There is not one who denies the fact of con-
science not one who denies the fact of the external world for
that matter, though he may find it impossible to answer satis-
factorily certain objections but we are informed that what we
call conscience is not an inseparable and fundamental attribute
of human nature. One or two of those thinkers who deal in
plausibilities as if these were philosophical principles have said
that the dictates of conscience are "weather"; one is under a
cloud, as it were. This view has been seriously discussed, and
disciples have taken it up who doubtless, when they reach the
status of biological sociologists which appears to be the an-

390 CHAIR OF PHILOSOPHY IN TRINITY COLLEGE. [June,

thropoid stage in nineteenth-century learning will spread it as
the most original and profound contribution of university pro-
fessors to psychology, and not the cynicism of a French mar-
quis. Aberrations so trivial and yet so melancholy, so airy
and yet so subversive of man's nature and responsibilities, can
only be relegated to their proper place when a genuine mastery
of the principles on which knowledge depends is diffused far
and wide. Such a notion of conscience might be an encourage-
ment to Clodius after his night's debauch ; we can understand
Aristophanes explaining the moods of the morning just as the
old mediaeval couplet accounts for the devil's conversion to reli-
gion ; but a solemn professor talking such twaddle in the name
of Spencer and under the inspiration of Huxley takes the
breath away.

They explain, it may be an inherited result of certain qualities
accentuated in their bearing on each other with regard to the
"environment," just as fidelity is developed in a dog, attachment
in a horse.* It may be a differentiation of the instinct of self-
preservation surviving in types of superior intelligence and
power until at length it stood forth isolated and intensified
by reciprocal admiration as a new faculty. Hamlet's cloud
underwent several transformations Polonius could not recog-
nize the latest, we cannot see conscience either in a product
of domestic training or in a developed instinct. The instinct
of self-preservation, indeed ! It is the fact that conscience
has written itself in every language as the sovereign and the
judge of duty, honor, loyalty, friendship, self-denial. At its
voice inert men have risen to the supreme heroism of flinging
life away for a principle, a tradition, a sentiment ; and high-
souled men have watched for the hour when they might seal
their devotion with their blood. He who gives his life or for-
tune for a cause and the world has flowed around and past
thousands and thousands of the kind is set up in the pan-
theon of humanity, and in marble or bronze rules men's souls
as though he had a sceptre in his hand. Where is the instinct
of self-preservation there? where the canine or equine fidelity
bought by caresses and by fear?

SOUND PHILOSOPHY RECOGNIZES CONSCIENCE.

Yes, this thing, this conscience, is in the very marrow of
man's life, sways his thoughts and ennobles his language. It

* Romanes' sense of shame is the most far-fetched stretch in canine morality. It
conscience, according to him, just as it acts in man.

1900.] CHAIR OF PHILOSOPHY IN TRINITY COLLEGE. 391

is the real penetrating, all-pervading force which, passing from
the individual, vivifies society. It is the Promethean fire which
knit mankind in the twilight of time, marshalled it as it climbed
wearily upward to the dawn, lights it on its way now, and will
only set amid the elements of the dissolving world. And now
and again the soulless men admit so much of this when" they
wander into the recognition of moral truths, their metaphors
avow the supremacy of conscience over the field of right, even
when the same is not merely commensurate with legal justice.
But lest this should be taken as proof that the faculty was
conferred by God, it is made into a Stoic reflex of the social
conscience, a practising for the public posturing, a Pecksniffian
cheating of itself into a belief that its hypocrisy is the real
virtue.

A sound system of thinking will guard against such a de-
grading philosophy. The moral healthiness it secures will not
assimilate shams, pretences, follies, any more than the religious
sense will favor the corruption, fraud, or wickedness to which
these lead. Under the guidance of a philosophy illuminated in
its contact with the unseen by the revelation of God, the mind
must shrink as from extinction from the animalizing of the
soul. It will not worship the material things that pass like
shadows over a field, even though they are pleasant to the
senses ; or power which oppresses conscience, even though
arrayed in terrors. Even though no angel came, its ardor
would go forth to the youths in the furnace ; it would prefer
death for God's truth to all the kingdoms shown by the prince
of this world.

A SOUND PHILOSOPHY DESIRABLE FOR WOMEN.

In such a philosophy women must be trained. There is no
narrowness in limiting our desires to truth. Error is not
science ; but, circumstanced as we are, we must take account
of it to guard against its sophisms, to preserve others against
them, and incidentally even that the erroneous teachers them-
selves should be aware that we reject them, not from want of
knowing them, but because we have weighed them. We are
unlike the Protestant sects, which at one time looked upon
human science as an obstacle to the attainment of the knowl-
edge of divine things ; we are unlike the last development of
Protestant thought, which limits knowledge to the attainments
of reason. If a divine Being tells us what we cannot know
by unaided reason, the knowledge so acquired is a part of our

392 CHAIR OF PHILOSOPHY IN TRINITY COLLEGE. [June,

possession as certain as the truths of mathematics, though of
a different order. The forming of the mind for the apprecia-
tion of truth and its defence is the business of philosophy ;
now, women have the duty of moulding the mind while yet
impressionable, and surely they must have the, requisite culture
to discharge the duty. Correct ideas, and the power to impart
them, are the influence to direct the developing intelligence of
the child. These ideas and this power are the gift of formal
logic. The art and science is far more than high grammar ; it
is the statement of the correct processes of thought. What-
ever is the subject-matter on which the mind is engaged, it
must employ itself according to logical laws, if we are to ob-
tain a result to be relied upon. Now, this study, so important,
stands at the threshold of the philosophical course which is the
frame and standard of scientific knowledge.

ANCIENT AND MODERN SYSTEMS.

This brings us to the contact of the ancient and the mod-
ern systems. And first, what is now called the scientific method
is nothing -new. It is a considerable draft on the dredulity of
men possessing historical knowledge and intuition to ask them
to believe that experimental inquiry began with certain sugges-
tions of the more recent of the two Bacons. Take, for instance,
mental philosophy. Processes of thought were as keenly ex-
amined by Aristotle as by Locke; the schoolmen had acquired,
from their familiarity with the genesis and nature of ideas, a truer
estimate of the limits of knowledge than Mill, though he stands
at the head of modern empiricism. It is too readily assumed
that the leaps and bounds by which natural science has ad-
vanced within memory is due to the adoption of a method un-
known to the ancients.

It is more than conceivable that important discoveries in
experimental physics were made by men whose names and
works were written on water, owing to the difficulty of preserv-
ing records and the want of means of communicating the re-
sults of observation and experiment. What we know about
them comes in the contemptuous references to alchemy, but
for all that there must have been delicate and careful experi-
ments in what were in reality chemical combinations and tests.
The abuse of a pursuit in seeking the unobtainable is a pre-
sumption that there had been discoveries of so striking a char-
acter as to afford unlimited promise.

However, every one now professes to be something of a

1900.] CHAIR OF PHILOSOPHY IN TRINITY COLLEGE. 393

savant. The history of the world as told in its rocks is sup-
posed to be a library open to all classes, and so told as to
destroy the Mosaic narrative of its creation. Of course
geology does nothing of the kind ; but to possess the character
of mind to know it does not, and that with the calmness of
perfect certainty and the clearness of intellectual conviction, is
the endowment of a truly philosophical spirit. Based on reli-
gion, such a spirit makes man (or woman, as we add with
Hamlet) that wonderfully gifted creature, so imperial in sway
over all in earth and sea, whom David saw ; so brilliant, so ap-
prehensive, so like a god, whom Shakspere saw ; a very differ-
ent being from the scoffer, the intellectual Silenus, the refined
- highwayman who is the product of a godless science.

A BEACON LIGHT IN SCRIPTURAL INTERPRETATION.

A recent and ingenious writer* alluded to the long line which
' the friends of religion have to defend against assailants. We
think there is no need for uneasiness if the shape of true
cultivation be given to the mind, or rather that cast which is
the perfecting of its natural tendency to truth. Why, ten
thousand of the objections from science and- criticism are irre-
levant, ev.en if the suggestions implied in one per cent, of them
be true. Take the initial flouts familiar to us from childhood,
that of the six days of twenty-four hours confronted by the
vast cycles in which the events recorded must have taken place ;
and that of God, like a farmer, walking in the garden in the
cool of the evening. These things do well financially in popular
lectures and catching magazine 'articles. One need not notice
the insolent ribaldry of this comparison ; it is English, like the
objection of Lady Mary Montagu, we think, to life in the
garden before the Fall she did not like sour apples, and there
was no milliner or dress maker, f As for the conflict between
the testimony of the strata and the cosmogony of Genesis, it
has nothing to do with the truth of the divine narrative. Ages
ago the question of the literal sense of passages in Holy Writ
was a commonplace of instruction, and we are strongly of
opinion that the passages in question, as well as those entering
into the mysteries of being, of God's relations with man, the
origin of evil, and the contrasted fortunes of wicked and right-
eous, were freely debated in the schools, by men guarded from
aberrations, however, by the solid setting of a sound philosophy
in which their thoughts revolved.

* Clerical Studies. " f We have translated her words into decent English.

394 CHAIR OF PHILOSOPHY IN TRINITY COLLEGE. [June,

The most luminous intelligences that have risen among men
discovered nothing repugnant in the narrative. The genius of
Augustine, magnificent beyond example in' the wealth of its
endowments, with the eye of an eagle to look unwinking at
the sun, an insight like inspiration to pass unharmed from the
boundary line of human knowledge into speculative regions,
difficult and awful as the mountain of Dante, the genius of
Augustine saw nothing absurd in what we may call the song
of the creation. Why, it is Nature herself celebrating the
festival of her birth, it is as the gladness of the stars when
they first sang, it is the deep calling to the deep to join in
the chorus of their thanks. None of these great men could
see anything incongruous in God's hanging worlds like lamps
in the deeps of the infinite to light the dwelling-place of the
object of his bounty. To-day, any one of them, if told of the
discoveries of science, would repeat their well-known principle
- there can be no repugnance between the truth of science
and the revealed word. If there be the appearance of conflict,
we have not yet caught the true interpretation of the divine
word. Like to the effect of the handwriting on the wall to
Baltassar and his nobles, in some respect, is the first chapter
of Genesis to us.* We see there is something awful, a mani-
festation of power and holiness and majesty without limit, but
we need an interpreter to unfold the meaning of the writing.
This is the point of view, this the mental attitude we want
for the women of the coming time. They must stand along
the long line of defence, shoulder to shoulder with the men
they must be what men cannot be : the delegated scribes ol
God writing on the mind of childhood the beautiful thought!
that disclose His care, almost infinite, because exercised in al
our belongings, absolutely eternal because commensurate wit!
Himself.

Man and his destiny are searched for in the life of anim;
and plant, in the activities of the brain and the phenomena of
society. Catholics must know all that can be known aboul
such phenomena ; rightly understood, they are only a more
recent edition of the psalm " Cceli ennarant gloriam Dei."
How blind men are in the pride of learning when it echoes
the desperate defiance of Satan

" Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven " !

* We cannot too much regret the well-meaning attempts at reconciliation which ir
ported novelties into the texts. As might be expected, even shallow, *>., purely critical
minds would expose them.

1900.] CHAIR OF PHILOSOPHY IN TRINITY COLLEGE. 395

Our critics cannot see what Longinus saw, heathen though
he was, the sublimity of the passage : " Let there be light, and
there was light "; cannot see what is evident to the sane mind,
that the text stands alone as the expression of a physical fact as
remote from sense as a spiritual operation, and could no more
have occurred to an uninspired fabricator than the morality
of loving enemies could have sprung up spontaneously in a
purely human heart. We must know all these men say, even
though it be to pity the folly of those kings of thought. Even
when rightly considered, their aberrations, blasphemies, sneers,
mocks, and flouts will have their value as testifying to the
truth of religion. Rome martyred millions and planted the
Church.

All this we can understand when fortified with good princi-
ples, such as we have called the scientific formulae of common
sense. Strong in the tower of a system built up by the great-
est intellects in the history of the race, working on the expe-
rience of the race one age bringing its blocks, another bring-
ing its own, and so on ; a system to which Greece gave its
beauty of form, Rome its massive force, the elder civilizations
many of their secrets, India its promise, Holy Church her light
and leading strong in the armor of a defence such as this sys-
tem confers, the harmony of divine and human knowledge will
be an abiding certainty amid the phantoms, fears, confusions of
a world rushing from the grasp ; but to feel this harmony is
wisdom.

396 A NEW FIELD FOR THE CONVENT GRADUATE [June,

A NEW FIELD FOR THE CONVENT GRADUATE
IN THE SOCIAL SETTLEMENT.

BY A. A. McGINLEY.

VERY one is deeply concerned as to what will
eventuate from that period of conventual seclu-
sion through which so many of our young
Catholic women are still put to fit them for
their future. Every one speculates about it at
one time or another; many are hopeful in their predictions as
to its ultimate good ; many more are but gently critical. This
latter class turn acutely cynical, and at times positively queru-
lous when, on the edge of the heats of summer, comes the dis-
comforting stir of the commencement season heralding the exodus
of the beribboned, fluttering bevy of girl graduates, like a flock of
birds in migration, to summer hotels and sea-side vresorts. And
later on the querulousness settles down into a chronic, disgruntled
kind of mere toleration at the sight of the brilliant, ambitious
graduate, who challenged the world so bravely from the com-
mencement platform, changed into the amateur holding or seek-
ing a place among fortune's favorites.

It is generally after the experiences of the first summer are
over that the real concern as to the fate of the convent graduate
sets in acutely in the minds of parent and priest. For some years
the nun was her confidant and guardian as well as her strong wall
of defence against the whole vexing problem of life raging with-
out the barriers of high convent walls. Beyond these walls the
concern of the nun-teacher for the fledgling just gone from
her sheltering care is not supposed to go, except to follow on
the white wings of quiet prayer. But does it not go very
often albeit only in solicitous thought back and forth in the
journeyings of the young traveller, who already has descended
from the heights and is tracking her way over the low-lying
pathways of common, every-day existence? In the pauses of
prayer and meditation, far away in the dim convent chapel,
the heart of the nun contracts suddenly with that vague, dim
fear and shrinking from the surging of the great, burly cur-
rents of the world outside into which has been cast, like a
flower on a turgid stream, a soul no more rugged than her
own to withstand the tides of adversity, thougn it may be with
as holy a courage in facing them. But what can the nun do

i QOO.] /A' THE SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. 397

now but pray ? And this she does with all her heart,- for
prayer is mighty.

Yet cannot the nun be practical as well as pious? keen-
eyed in recognizing avenues aside from the " Pathway Danger-
ous " as well as apprehensive and fearful of every little deflec-
tion from the straight and narrow road ? It is this all but
maternal solicitude of the true nun-teacher which shall bring
her up to a good and thorough comprehension of that spirit of
right-minded Christian Socialism which is to be, in its more
perfect development, the salvation of our modern civilization.
Such a comprehension would be entirely necessary before it
would be possible for the nun to t recognize the strong personal
relation the doctrines of Social Science have to her personally
in her office as teacher, and to enable her to see how it has
within itself the possibilities of bringing to full fruition those
principles of Christian virtue which she spends her life in plant-
ing in the hearts of her pupils.

What are these principles? It would be invidious to give
in this instance, and in addressing this public, the only real
and true definition of them which is actually in the catechism :
Love thy neighbor as thyself ; because who teaches this Chris-
tian principle more constantly than the nun ? And who makes
greater profession of literally living up to it than she? More
than a definition of the principle is needed here. The whole
problem in reality hangs upon the finding out of practical
ways and means by which this much-taught and well-believed
principle of the Christian system may be made a fact instead
of a theory. Social Science has evolved these practical ways
and means, and is already busy throughout our present civil-
ization in putting them to actual test.

The engine for doing this is the Social Settlement. That in
turn, as has been shown, may be described by establishing a
comparison between the convent system and the Settlement
system on the practical side. One might make the comparison
even more boldly than this, and more concisely, by saying that
the Settlement is a secularized convent, using convent methods
of teaching order, cleanliness, hygiene, health, domestic economy,
and harmonious living, besides the higher ideals of life on the
artistic side through art, the natural sciences, and the cultiva-
tion of fine manners.

We know well who are the beneficiaries of this phase of the
convent life, or at least to whom they are specially directed.
The convent graduate acquires a wealth of culture and ac-
complishments during the time she spends under the convent

398 A NEW FIELD FOR THE CONVENT GRADUATE [June,

i
influence that leaves an impress upon her character for life.

But who gets the benefit of the cultivation of these same ideals
within the household of the Social Settlement? Stand at the
door of one of these houses in a city slum and watch them as
they troop in and out of the ever-open door from early morn-
ing till late at night : the poor and despised, the unfortunate
and the misguided ; the untaught exile seeking to know the
ins and outs of this new, strange civilization by which he is to
get better, cleaner, easier ways of living than he could get in
his native land ; and in contrast to him, and far more needy
than he, the victim of the abuses of that same civilization.
Here come the tiny toddlers who have been coaxed from
the dirt and discomfort of squalid homes to spend an
hour or so under the care of the trained kindergarten
teacher ; and following close after them are the tired, over-
burdened mothers seeking relief for a little while from the
drudgery of life, and to find out ways to make it easier, sweet-
er, and more worth while. In their wake come the free-
hearted school children to read or to study or to play for a little
while under the direction of the social worker, who becomes to
each one of these children of the slums playmate, teacher,
guide, or friend, according as the needs of the moment
prompt. These young women at the Settlement exercise an
influence and leave an impression upon the child mind and
heart which are unknown or unprecedented in almost any
other relation between adult and child. It can have the most
powerful and far-reaching effect upon the young intelligence,
for the simple reason that for the time being the social worker
effaces every barrier between herself and the child and meets
it entirely upon its own -level. This, together with the fact
that these young women have come voluntarily out of the
higher walks of life to tread for awhile the humble ways with
these little ones, bringing with them, too, every gift of nature
or of fortune with which they are endowed to serve the pleas-
ure or the uplifting of the less fortunate, makes a last appeal
to humanity which is wholly irresistible.

That all this is really done, and done with sincerity, is
testified to by the actual evidence of one's senses in the investi-
gation of the methods of the Social Settlement. In the first
paper on this topic, published in the May issue of this maga-
zine, full personal testimony of this side of their work is given.
The" suggestions all this presents for a new field for the con
vent graduate are almost too patent to need any further
pointing here. It is quite clear that the convent-trained girl

1900.] IN THE SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. 399

should be the best possible kind of Social worker, both for her
own advantage and for those she works for. She will give
them the benefit of that fine training and culture which she
has been acquiring in years of seclusion and study, and they
will afford her the means of the practical application of it all
to its proper uses, which are nothing more or less than turn-
ing the theories of Christian teaching into actual practice.

Let it not startle either herself or the sceptical world to
affirm that the convent is itself, in the character of its work-
ing system and in its whole condition of life on the purely
natural side, an actual school of Christian Socialism of the
very highest order. Or, to establish a comparison from the
other point of view : the school of Christian Socialism in
the world is the household of the Social Settlement, which in
all its system of living, on the practical side, is almost an exact
copy of the household conditions of the convent.

A number of women live a common life together under
one roof, bound either voluntarily or by pledges into close
association in a regular household or family, with a common
aim or ideal, and with a common system of living in attaining
it ; all striving together in mutual friendship and perfect har-
mony under the direction of a duly authorized head. The
similarity of these conditions on the wholly natural side is very
strong ; and the surroundings or environment of their respec-
tive households, in their resemblance to each other, make this
even more real.

The arrangements of a Social Settlement and its house-
hold appurtenances might indeed, as we can see, have
been copied from a convent household. And even more than
this, the religious and artistic touches in the living-rooms of
the convent do not differentiate it so much as one might
imagine from the Settlement household, as many of the latter,
even entirely non-sectarian ones, have proved by test the value
of a household atmosphere created by having constantly before
the mind representations in pictures and in imagery of the
highest Christian ideals. The walls of some of the Settlement
houses are literally lined with pictures of the Madonna, as the
Blessed Mother is called by them, in every form or aspect
familiar to both the simple and the artistic mind. Indeed, the
ethics of the Settlement hang upon the principle that the
silent influence of right surroundings is the mainspring, after
all is said and done, of all sound and lasting teaching in the
moral order. What else than this does the convent claim in
arguing for the value of its influence, through its atmosphere

400 A NEW FIELD FOR THE CONVENT GRADUATE [June,

or environment, over the individual? The convent is an ex-
ponent the most powerful one in the world of the forceful-
ness of surroundings in affecting human life. The convent,
however, claims more than this. It claims the highest motive
possible for the human soul as the end and purpose of all its
Christian ethics. This is the supreme difference on the face of
it between a social community in the world and one in the
cloister. One is for the higher life and the other is for the
highest. The latter, however, can raise the former many de-
grees nearer itself in the scale of comparison by propagating
among the members of its own household a thorough under-
standing of the aim and methods of Catholic Social Science,
and by embodying within its teaching system a clear exposi-
tion of the principles of this science.

When the Social Settlement becomes a widespread and gen-
eral institution ; when each parish shall have its Settlement. House
established as an ordinary parish adjunct like the Sunday school
or day-school, a field of work will be opened for Catholic
women that shall afford them, through employment in its work-
ing system, not only moral or spiritual recompense but also a
means of livelihood as substantial as any they may find in the
professions. It will not, 'either, become in a short time a pre-
empted field, for the standard of excellence in the Social Set-
tlement is a very high one. It is more than mere training and
natural ability ; it is actual character that is required, and of
the very finest shades. The Social Settlement without such a
standard of excellence could only prove an engine for mis-
chief, and even for evil, rather than for the highest good. Let
the convent graduate carry to the work every single one of
those high ideals imbued within her spirit during her convent
career, and not part with them sadly and reluctantly one by
one, as she has too often been inclined to do at the first rough
challenge of the world as she steps into it as a client for its
fortunes.

Herein is suggested a field of work for the convent gradu-
ate which may lead her, by the most natural and legitimate
avenues, into whatever place she is to fill in the world. If her
vocation is to the cloister, the view of life she will get through
her experience in the Settlement will deepen and strengthen
her love for God and humanity to a degree that no mere
theoretical training could do. If she is to choose a life in the
world, either in marriage or in a profession, the practical know
edge of the world and its ways acquired by learning Soci
Settlement methods will be of life-long value to her.

1900.] IN THE SOCIAL SETTLEMENT. 401

Through the Social Settlement life shall become legitima-
tized for these young spirits whose backward glance is too often
turned towards the well-remembered cloister haunts of girlhood,
in half regret that their lives, too, w.ere not cast in such pleasant
places a regret that brings with it at times a keen discon-
tent, and often a too strong doubt that life in the world can
in any form be wholly and perfectly after Christ's own heart.
The Christian ideal of full and perfect manhood and woman-
hood, modelled on the pattern of Christ's own human life and
His holy Mother's, is secretly bereft of many of its high claims
as the perfect type of life by the subtle mischief wrought upon
these half-formed judgments in throwing the high lights only upon
the convent ideal of life and leaving the world life in the shade.

From the convent point of view only this is but logi-
cal, natural, and consistent. But let us strive for a fairer
and better adjustment of view on all sides. Let us plead
strongly, and if need be at times vehemently, for the claims
of the Christian ideal in the world. The poor sad world
needs it. Moreover, it claims it as tribute for the uncloistered
saints here and there in its hidden places, perhaps right in
the turmoil of the mart within the populous city; in the
counting-house, or at the loom ; plying their trade in the
crowded workshops, standing wearily on duty at their post,
serving the palates of the epicure or suiting the fancies of
fashion's slaves. The world claims tribute to the saints among
these, and for the little children who purify the atmosphere
of its polluted streets by their very presence there. It is not
a lost humanity indeed which throngs its gates, nor is it strayed
from Christ because it runs here and there, it would seem in
heedless fashion, after the manifold joys and interests of
human life. Indeed, the healing of the world is in its nameless
saints, and not always

Cloistered saints, that bid the world

Remember they forget, . . .
Whose abnegating robes accost the glance

Of lost humanity. . . .

Not they who stand apart
Are thy swift followers alone,

Sweet Christ ! Unveiled, untonsured, they there be
Who hold their mired brothers to their heart,

Even for love of Thee."
VOL. LXXI. 26

402 MISEKICORDIA DOMINI. [June,

MISERICORDIA DOMINI.

BY DR. NICHOLAS BJERRING.

HROUGH the grace of God and the intercession
of the blessed and immaculate Virgin I was
received in December, 1898, into the Holy,
Catholic and Apostolic Roman Church.

The uncertainty and contradictions of the
doctrines of Protestantism left me in bewilderment and
awakened within me a burning desire to become a member of
that church which alone speaks with authority, because she
alone is instituted by our Saviour, and she alone is able to
elevate a rational creature to union with God through the
mediation of the Son of God.

In prayer I have dwelt upon the matter, and after making
a blessed retreat I now bow down before the only true Church,
the refuge for those who are weary of the world and want to
go home to the bosom of their Father. That church revolu-
tion of the sixteenth century which generally goes under the
name of Protestantism is the first and the true, if not the only,
source of all the misery which afterwards has fallen upon us.

The principle of this Protestantism ' consists chiefly in not
being Catholic, and its practice chiefly in contradicting the
Roman Church in all matters of faith and morals. This hanker-
ing after innovation goes on doubting, attacking, repudiating
one truth after the other. But the result can be nothing but
utter confusion. The books of the New Testament formulated
no complete creed of doctrines, and thus Protestantism becomes
a body without any head.

To day all that is still left of deeper religious interest among
the Protestants is bending towards the Catholic Church. Thus
we see the noblest characters, the strongest spirits, men and wo-
men, turning their eyes towards the old church. They have
come to feel that in every human soul there is a void which not
the whole creation would be able to fill. God alone can do that.

And they have furthermore come to feel that the only
means of coming into perfect union with God is the Catholic
Church, that ship built by himself and steered by himself
through the vicissitudes of time to the everlasting harbor ; the
wilder the wind and the waves, the steadier the rudder and the
surer the vessel. We see devout souls returning to the Catholic
Church as the only historical church, the only true representative

1 900.] MlSERlCORDIA DOMINI. 403

of Christianity, though it often does cost them great sacrifices.
Some come only after long meditations and severe struggles ;
others in a rush, as if led by an inner light suddenly lit in their
souls. Some are driven by an irresistible conviction of the abso-
lute necessity of church authority, and the consistency and har-
mony of the Catholic dogma ; others are lured forward by an
impression of the majesty of the Catholic service and its power
over the heart. Others, again, come like the dying tramp, who
in a Catholic hospital asked to be baptized. " Why do you
want to be baptized?" inquired the priest. "Because I want
to die in the same religion as that sister with the big white
bonnet, who has been nursing me." A little more power of
reasoning and that man would have answered : " Because I
want to die looking like the best I have seen in life."

The mainspring in all these conversions is a deep conviction
of the truth of the Catholic Church and her inerrancy as a
pathfinder to salvation. With many this conviction is 'the re-
sult of severe historical researches ; with others, the flower of a
healthier, richer, finer cultivation of their instincts, impressions,
feelings, and experiences. Having wandered about in the sands
of the desert, hungry and thirsty or overfed with that which
is of no good, they discover in the fundamental principle of
Catholicism, the authority of the church, the star that shows
them the way to the spiritual Jerusalem and the visible sign
of that rich find in their conversions. I too once belonged to
that part of humanity which is writhing in the dust under the
iron heel of Satan. Then a Catholic priest came to my rescue
and lifted me on my feet with my eyes towards heaven. There-
fore I thank the grace of God that, after a stormy crossing of
the wild waste, at last I have been brought to my real home.
God deigned to save a poor sinner and bring rest to a sore,
storm-tossed soul. Through the study of mystical theology,
through meditation and contemplation, my faith has got strength,
and a longing after deep inner union with Christ has become
the ardent endeavor of my life. More and more strongly I long
for the celestial heights, more and more strongly I long to sink
into the infinite, everlasting Deity. And I know that mysticism
is no sickly delusion, but a department of theological science.
The infallibility of the pope, when he speaks ex cathedra,
has become dear to me in all its depth, in its wh'ole signifi-
cance, and in its absolute necessity. There are things which
must be felt before they can be understood ; among them the
infallibility of the apostolic throne. Not that I have seen
the thing, as one sees a man or a building ; but I know and I

404 MISERICORDIA DOMINI. [June.

understand what is going on, when the pope makes up his
mind and gives his decision. Neither the pope nor the bishops
are by nature infallible, but behind them there stands some-
thing else, something higher, forming their decisions in such a
way that, as it must become evident to the whole world, hell
itself cannot prevail against that rock on which the church is
founded. When once the pope reigns over the whole world, it
will be a blessing to the human race.

With her dogmas the Catholic Church surrounds and pene-
trates the whole life of man from the cradle to the grave, and
even beyond that. Her sacraments accompany the faithful one
throughout his whole course, meet him at every turning point,
console him in his hardships and bereavements, and land him
safely, by holy confession, through all his troubles. Even
before death's door the church does not stop. Her prayers
for the dead have still access to the -throne of the eternal
Judge. Indeed, the Catholic Church does not simply labor
for the education of mankind, as a preparation for salvation ; she
is herself the living current through which God's grace flows
into human life.

Therefore I wish to point out to other souls who have strayed
away, in order that they may return to this inexhaustible foun-
tain of life and light, the only true way to salvation, which is in
the Catholic Church. And therefore I say to you, dear souls,
who are still outside the pale : Here in the Church of God may
be found the Ark of Salvation. Here are the signs of the
dwelling-place of the Spirit of God. Where the genuine old
songs are intoned and where the Holy Virgin has an altar beside
that of her divine Son, there is your refuge, there is your
home. And care nothing about those outsiders, those indif-
ferentists, who can only scowl and scoff at every one who has
the courage and power to cross their narrow boundaries.

A Protestant who becomes a Catholic simply returns to the
bosom of the church ; he is a lost sheep, who finds the shepherd
again ; a lost son, who finds the paternal roof again ; nothing more.

Our entire United States will some day become Catholic.
Our time will not see the rising of that morning star, but
Catholicism is in the air, and it is wonderful to see how it
spreads in all directions.

Lord God, have mercy upon us and forgive us our trans-
gressions. Pour down thy Holy Spirit upon us, that we may
all bow down before thee and acknowledge thy 'Holy Catholic
Church as the only true church !

A GREAT importance attaches to the characters
connected with the Brook-Farm movement on ac-
count of the part they played in the religious de-
velopments of this last half-century in our own
country. The true inner story of Brook Farm must,
to a great extent, ever remain unwritten, for the reason that
those to whom its purpose was most meaningful have kept
their experiences and sentiments sacred to themselves. Never-
theless, a most enjoyable volume* has been produced by the
effort to impart information concerning the details of the com-
munity-life and its influence on the various personalities in-
cluded within its bounds. It is not too much to say that the
present volume may well demand consideration at the hands
of every student of our own religious, political, or literary
development within the last generation or two.

For ourselves, of course, the most interesting chapters are
those devoted to Father Hecker and Doctor Brownson. Here
the author shows himself honest and sympathetic. It is not
to be wondered at that the writer was unable thoroughly to
understand the person who, in Brook Farm's days, appeared to
be merely " a young man of gentle and affectionate manner,
with an air of singular refinement and self-reliance." The true
meaning of Father Hecker's life is, of course, to be found in
the long history which succeeded those early days of restless
search for spiritual truth. Mr. Swift has understood about as
much as could be grasped by any critic whose view-point of
his subject was that of merely natural culture. But, mystic
and Transcendentalist in a higher and truer sense than any of
"the New England School," Isaac Hecker soon passed out of
the lives of his early associates and was lost to them in the
shadows encircling the holy mountain of Christian sanctity.
For what was highest and best in those with whom he had
once united himself he ever retained deep sympathy, for he

* Brook Farm. By Lindsay Swift. New York : The Macmillan Company.

406 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

always contended that the Transcendentalists represented a
typical product of our civilization, and he longed to see that
native aspiration for natural perfection find true consummation
and crowning in the church's teaching. It was to men and
women of such sympathies that he ever felt himself most strong-
ly drawn, and his apostleship has been the means of bringing
peace and light and divine grace to not a few among them.

What is not told in the volume before us the quick-witted
can infer the far-reaching social law that caused the disas-
trous termination of the Brook-Farm experiment. The men and
women associated in that movement were equipped with the
most thorough outfit of unselfish devotion and natural virtue.
Their failure to solve the problem of life has but one mean-
ing : that the community-ideal they cherished is indeed in
harmony with a deep-felt human want, but that the attain-
ment of this ideal requires a supernatural environment, and is
never perfectly realized but in that church which for many
long centuries has been giving birth constantly to new com-
munities, each of them successfully solving the dark mystery
that to the last confronted the Brook-Farmers.

In extent of narrative, scope of action, and variety of inter-
est Prince Kropotkin's Memoirs of a Revolutionist * certainly is
a remarkable production. It is the autobiography of a man
born an aristocrat ; in his boyhood a page to Emperor Alex-
ander of Russia ; later a scientist who discovers errors in some
of Humboldt's geographical theories ; a Russian officer in
Siberia, an impecunious writer, a worker among the proletariat
of Switzerland and London, and finally an imprisoned socialis-
tic agitator, and an authority in nearly every department of
practical economics. In all this there is much of human in-
terest, much of adventure, much of suffering and trial. More
than that, there is much of suggestive study into social condi-
tions, and many a life-like picture, some of them extremely
beautiful, of all kinds and conditions of life, from the peasant
to the prince. With the author's extreme views on social re-
construction we need not express our difference. His endeavor
to temper our view of Nihilism is but a feeble plea ; and the
sentiment which he adapts from Tolstoy is abhorrent to a
higher than the artistic feeling : " A pair of boots is more im-
portant than all your Madonnas and all your refined talk about

* Memoirs of a Revolutionist. By Prince Kropotkin. Boston and New York : Hough-
ton, Mifflin & Co.

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 407

Shakspere." And on the previous page he tells us quite
enough about the Nihilist when he says : " In his philosophical
conceptions he was a positivist, an agnostic, a Spencerian evo-
lutionist, or a scientific materialist." It is sad that great love
for humankind, hatred of social injustices, and horror at the
undoubted hypocrisy and tyranny that still exist, should irri-
tate men into thinking that nothing but the radical overturn
of society, and either the destruction or the entire transforma-
tion of religion, will be the remedy of our present shortcomings.

In the present rather extraordinary revival of Miss Austen's
works an essay* on herself and her works is of very timely
appearance. It is not a very profound study of the novel in
general or of Miss Austen's novels in particular. Very largely
it is concerned with a comparative study of three great female
novelists of England the three greatest indeed, until the less
simple but more dazzling brilliance of George Eliot placed
them in a secondary position Frances Burney, Miss Edge-
worth, and Jane Austen. In this comparison Mr. Pollock, to his
great credit as a critic, shows more consideration by far for the
first two of this group than the majority of Austenites. as he
calls them, usually display. With a very just discrimination
he examines the influence exerted by Miss Burney on the
author of Pride and Prejudice, and gives the earlier writer her
share of praise. In this respect alone the book is indeed ad-
mirable as a critique of early English fiction.. Miss Austen's
style, charming in its simplicity, and her plots, built up chiefly
about ordinary events and in a social sense ordinary characters
too, are delicately and winningly appreciated.

Few books of its sort have richer literary suggestiveness,
few are so temperate in their encomium, yet so steady in their
enthusiasm, and few have a fairer promise of elevating the
tone, both of romantic and of critical composition. Together
with Austin Dobson's introductions to the Macmillan edition
of Miss Austen, it is the best hand-book we possess for the
study of a great English novelist, and of her almost equally
great confemporaries.

Father Barnes belongs to University College, Oxford, and is
a master of the university. The work f which we are noticing
has been evidently a labor of love. The minute examination of

* Jane Austen : Her Contemporaries and Herself. An Essay in Criticism. By Walter
Harries Pollock. London and New York : Longmans, Green & Co.

t St. Peter in Rome. By Arthur Stapylton Barnes, Priest of the Diocese of Westminster.
London : Swan, Sonnenschien & Co.

408 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. fJ une

monuments, and of the pictures, drawings, and literature con-
nected with them, has involved time and research, the result of
which for the most part will obtain recognition at the hands
of the very small circle known as students of archaeology. In
addition he has sifted a vast mass of matter coming under the
title of traditions probed the accounts, considered objections,
balanced conflicting claims, and in no instance has left us in
doubt as to his own opinion. With a foresight certain as sound
scientific theory he moves to his goal ; with a judgment sure-
footed as that which practice and the natural gift afford to
practical men in the avocations of. life he conducts his reader
through the labyrinth of views, facts, and the obscuring influence
of change. It is not so much that St. Peter was the first
Bishop of Rome as that he is the all-pervading, animating
spirit of twenty centuries of her moral and religious life.

We see how distinctly and emphatically the pope is the suc-
cessor of St. Peter we see it in everything ; even as we look at
the open graves of his successors round his tomb we think, as
the men who saw the excavations in 1626 thought, that he was
like a ruler among the "bishops assisting at a synod or coun-
cil." All the popes who died in Rome up to the beginning of
the third century, when the papal crypt of St. Callisto was
made, were buried round St. Peter. We feel that he is in the
true sense the soul of Rome ; not as a great reformer is the
spirit of his day in a country, but an undying influence passing
through all vicissitudes. Imperial power, siege, sack, lawless
barons, revolutionary factions, move past this sacred memory.
Rome is the eternal city in truth, because linked to the Vicar
of the Lord. The knowledge comes home to us that it is not
so much Leo the Great that rules, or Gregory the Great, or the
magnificent Hildebrand as the foremost non-Catholic scholar
of the age describes St. Gregory VII. as it is Peter that
rules. " Peter has spoken by the mouth of Leo," cried out the
Fathers of .Chalcedon when the doctrinal letters of the Holy
See were read ; and we gather their spirit from that city of
Rome on the surface of the earth and below its surface, earth
cemented with the blood of martyrs, earth sustaining temples
speaking of his rule, earth sustaining memorials of the triumph
of his mission. The Colosseum and " the wondrous dome " alike
speak of that mission and that rule.

We will not dwell on Father Barnes's statement of the ques-
tion as to whether St. Peter was ever in Rome. The fact that
he suffered there had never been disputed until the sixteenth

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 409

century. The more careful of the Reformers left this issue to
Calvin and the least informed. It is now left to missionaries
from Exeter Hall, Irish Orangemen, and Dr. King. If there
be a fact in the history of the past or in the domain of con-
temporary knowledge which a man can accept on evidence; if
any man can be convinced that George Washington was the
first President of the United States, that Napoleon Bonaparte
was acknowledged as their emperor by the French people, that
Mr. McKinley's official residence is the White House; if men
have means of knowledge through testimony which can be
relied upon, then the presence of St. Peter and his crucifixion
at Rome are facts beyond dispute.

In condescending to notice this objection we would not
dream of appealing to a Catholic authority. There are cer-
tain things you cannot make clearer by argument. There are
certain minds that cannot be disabused of a notion. No
amount of argument will so successfully prove that a day is a
fine one as bringing the objector out into the sun and air. If
this do not satisfy him you are at a loss, you must leave him
to his own devices. If a man have a fixed but erroneous idea,
say on a fact of history, the best way of dealing with him is
to point out the different opinion of persons looking from his
own point of view, brought up in his own way of thinking, and
better informed than himself. He may not be convinced, but
he is silenced. Fixed ideas that are erroneous are not by any
means good things. Dr. Sangrado's wholesale slaughter of his
patients could not convince him that his theory of blood-letting
and purging as a universal remedy was bad. His confidence
in himself secured that of the public. We have a recollection
that only one patient recovered, and that his recovery was due
to his being removed out of the doctor's reach before the
treatment had been carried to its full extent. This exception
established the soundness of the theory, the death of the rest
only showed that they ought not to have died. We hear of a
priori theories to-day in criticism and science as well founded
and as tenaciously held as Sangrado's.

Speaking of the fact that St. Peter was in Rome, Whiston,
the translator of Josephus, says indignantly : " The thing is so
clear in Christian antiquity that it is a shame for a Protestant
to confess that a Protestant ever denied it." The first Epistle
of St. Peter is dated from Babylon. It strikes one as very
curious that in ultra Protestant circles Rome has been always
spoken of as Babylon, and yet that St. Peter could not have

410 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

seen in the same great city so many of the characteristics
which these Protestants professed to find in it. The fact is, St.
Peter had the best reason of precaution for disguising that
capital so soon to be red with the blood of the saints under
the name of the city which stands out in the Old Testament
as the centre of wealth and corruption, power and authority.
The Babylon of the Chaldees was no longer in history as a
name significant of anything; the fortress called Babylon, which
was in Egypt, had never been an influence in history. This is
the interpretation put upon the word by Protestants like Light-
foot, Elicott, Farrar, Westcott, Gore ; by Continental Rational-
ists such as Wieseler, Harnack, Hilgenfeld, Renan, Thiersch,
and Ewald. The whole controversy is due to the arbitrary
line taken by Calvin, that nothing was to be accepted concern-
ing the church except what was to be found in the Bible ; yet
every child knows that even in this exclusiveness the Calvinists
were no more consistent than the other Reformers.

However, for the public at large not fettered by an iron-
bound principle to which all knowledge of the growth of the
church is to be referred to the man of science especially, the
monuments that testify to the growth of the institution speak
with the certainty of demonstration. Professor Lanciani is
one of the greatest living authorities on the antiquities of
Rome. To persons outside the church his employment by the
Italian government may be a guarantee that he is not unduly
wedded to traditional opinions. But a man must speak the
truth, and there is a conclusion forced upon him which he ex-
presses in weighty words: "I write -about the monuments of
Rome from a strictly archaeological point of view, avoiding
questions which pertain, or are supposed to pertain, to religious
controversy. For the archaeologist the presence and execution
of Sts. Peter and Paul in Rome are facts beyond a shadow of
doubt by purely monumental evidence."

We regret that we have nbt space for the Christian life
which centred round the two Apostles, as Father Barnes re-
views it from document and memorial in art ; but under the
emotions stirred within us by this book we kneel before the
altar with the early converts in the houses of Pudens and
Aquilla ; we are in spirit with St. Peter when he reached
Rome in 42 and suffered in 67 ; we share in the triumph when
Constantine built the basilica over his tomb ; we see the Church
ad Vincula rising as the gift of Eudoxia; we read with passion-
ate reverence the tablet placed by Damasus in the Platonia

i QOO.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 411

ad Catacumbas ; the very soul swells within us as church after
church ascends in the years and centuries offerings of the
faithful, the tributes of all nations in memory of him to whom
the Lord said, Feed my lambs, feed my sheep !

Mr. Halleck's work* is framed according to a good method,
but is somewhat disappointing for reasons to be presently
given. The idea is to show a principle of growth in the litera-
ture corresponding to the development of the language ; as Mr.
Halleck prefers to say, its evolution. We expect that at
least the characteristic writers of each period would be brought
before us. Almost at random we look at the Stuart era, but
miss Cleveland from the number. Yet there was a power in
his sarcasm which reflects feeling of a party kind as well
entitled to commemoration as the controversial ideas which
our author professes to find in the Bible of Wycliffe f and the
Vision of Piers Plowman.

He is not always accurate in his etymologies. He lays
down the principle that the English language is derived from
the Anglo-Saxon, the French, and the Latin ; and that only a
small percentage of French and Latin words have found their
way into it. It is not easy to decide about this percentage ;
we know it to range from twelve per cent, to over twenty in
different hands. If we understand our author rightly, it is
eleven per cent, or ten, taking Shakspere and the Authorized
Version of the Bible as standards. We are accustomed to hear
this statement of this percentage with regard to Shakspere ;
we have very grave doubts of its correctness, but even if cor-
rect it would only mean a choice between synonyms. The
wealth of phraseology and many-sidedness justly claimed for
the English language could only have come from the fusion
of the foreign elements into the body of the language, and
these elements should bear a large proportion to produce that
effect. In his comedies Shakspere has sixteen words from the
Romance or Latin out of every hundred; it will be found he
has nearly thirty to every hundred in the tragic and historic
speeches. Still his English is more Anglo-Saxon than any
other writer's.;};

Mr. Halleck's etymologies, as we said above, are not always
correct. In fact he blunders awfully in a list of eleven words.
He derives the entire eleven from the Latin under his sub-

* History of English Literature. By Reuben Post Halleck. New York : American
Book Company. f Wycliffe only translated the New Testament.

t There is an affectation for Anglo-Saxon words at present.

412 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

heading, " The Superiority of the Composite Tongue." Of
these there are only two from the Latin, there is one from the
Celtic, the other eight are from the French. His own dullest
pupil should be flogged if he made some of the mistakes of
his master. We think in his specimens of early English
from the Scriptures, to illustrate the evolution of the language,
he might as fairly have given a text or two from the old
Anglo-Saxon as from Wycliffe's version. It is as easy to
read Wycliffe almost as the authorized version ; we cannot
conceive why the text was given except as an instance of what
he calls the rising " of the Reformation spirit." As a proof
that the change from the old Saxon of St. Matthew to the
English of Wycliffe's version marks something like an evolu-
tion upward or downward we shall quote a line from each :

Anglo-Saxon: " Warna the that thee hyt ncenegum men ne
seege ; ac gang ateow the tham sacerde," etc.

Wycliffe: "See, say thou to no man, but go, shew thee to
prestis," etc.

Mr. Halleck, at page 89, tells us that " in 1401 the first
Englishman was burned at the stake because of individual
opinions on religious matters," and he says so in connection
with Wycliffe's Bible as if there had not been a version in the
vulgar tongue centuries before and on account of the effect
produced among the masses of the people by Wycliffe's Bible,
his other works, and owing to the bold diffusion of his views
on the part of preachers and poets inspired by them. Mr.
Halleck's admiration for the political and social opinions of
Shelley is consistent indeed with the suggestion that there was
no Bible for the people until Wycliffe's, that giving them one
opened their minds to religious problems, but that this result
was met by the stake, or, as he expresses it, by " the burning
of heretics."

In these statements there is the partial truth impossible to
combat unless by lengthy explanation. The Wycliffites promul-
gated opinions that fair men would now describe as communis-
tic in the worst sense, or anarchical in the worst sense. The
people were oppressed by a movement against free labor, and
notably the Statute of Laborers ; but the church had nothing to
do with the land-owners' movement and enactments, and the
other grounds of discontent. The couplet of the mad priest,
known as Jack Straw

" When Adam delved and Eve span
Who was then the gentleman ?"

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 413

pretty fairly tells what the question was. We have not the
space to discuss the counter-movement, but we deny that the
spiritual courts had power to impose sentences affecting life or
limb. Not until after the Reformation were men sentenced to
be maimed or burned, hanged or beheaded, for religious
opinions. We direct Mr. Halleck's attention to proceedings
against Scotch Presbyterians by the Episcopalian Privy Coun-
cil of their own country, to the acts of Puritan rulers in New
England against their fellow- Protestants.

However, we pass from this to say he gives excellent ex-
tracts from the poets, but he does not seem to know in what
their excellence consists. He appropriates Charles Knight's
pronouncement on Shakspere's influence over thought and lan-
guage, and does not improve it in the process. With him the
sneer of a quibbling contemporary disposes of Pope's merits.
He hardly notices the ballad literature, which, in a work pur-
porting to describe the development of English literature, is an
omission without excuse. We have no hesitation in saying that
the influence of the ballads on two great periods of imagina-
tion and feeling, the age of Shakspere and the age of Scott,
cannot be measured. In the ballads the thought and passion
of their day were more distinctly expressed than the thought
and passion of the present are in Tennyson, Browning, Arnold,
or Swinburne. In the ballads they were real influences, caught
from and expended in the scenes where they took life ; they
are the same as we find in Chaucer and Shakspere under more
varying conditions. On the other hand, the passion and the
thought of this age are largely artificial and fantastical. Why,
to a great extent what is called the poetic thought of to-day
is the coloring of external nature in the lights and shades of
over-refining words and moralities, drawn from subtleties of the
intellect without foundation in experience ; the passion of
to-day is a vision of feeling and emotion born in the fancy
without knowledge from the heart.

Of course we admire Tennyson, for in some way Nature
speaks to him and he tells her message. We hear the water
lapping on the crag, we see the river-bank, the meadow, and
the climbing of the sea ; but there is no man in his world ;
inhabitants there are, but the human is not their order. The
nearest in poetic conception to our kind are the lotos-eaters,
but they are shadows in the reality of the slumberous air and
matchless landscape. How different the men of the sea, the

414 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

forest, the bent * of the old ballads ! They were the sailors of
Tudor days, the bowmen of Plantagenet days ; men of all
time, like those in the camp before Ilion, those in the Tabard
Inn, those that walked the world with Shakspere.

Mr. Halleck's method is good. If he puts in the limbo
of illusions the social and political, the moral and religious
views, through which he looks at the growth of the noble
literature of England views which he is too fond of express-
ing why, he says " The Princess " has " contributed nothing
to the solution of the woman question," as though one cared
for platform iconoclastics amid the infinite fancies of that ex-
quisite poem we hope to give a different judgment on his
next edition.

The Morrow of Life\ is a book of more than ordinary
worth. It consists of a series of studies, primarily devotional,
yet illustrated by dogma and philosophy and a wealth of
scriptural quotation, on subjects connected with death and the
future life. Nowhere in this volume does the author show lack
of original thought, of mastery of expression, or of seriousness
and surety of conviction. A remarkable spirit of wisdom and
piety is easily the dominant attraction of the work of the Abbe
Bolo, yet scarcely less noticeable and pleasing is the strength
and vigor of the style in which the thought is made manifest.
Though not planned as a meditation-book, The Morrow of Life
might well be called a book for meditation, for from almost its
every page may be extracted striking and profound considera-
tions food for much spiritual rumination. It is strange that
such topics as are here treated do not attract more attention
among Christians. Not only is it characteristic of the true
Christian to accept the death of his nearest and dearest with
religious fortitude and an undismayed spirit, but it is one of
his prime duties to console those who labor under the affliction
that death brings. There is no need, nor is there any possi-
bility, of minimizing the suffering that ensues upon the loss of
one's beloved relatives and friends. The need is to be supplied
with deep convictions of the truth of the Christian philosophy
of suffering, to be able to sanctify grief rather than to attempt
to make little of it. For this it is not enough that one be apt
with a few trite phrases respecting death and the future life ;

* The bowmen bickered along the bent
With their broad arrows keen.

fThe Morrow of Life. By the Abbe Henry Bolo. Translated from the French. New
York : Benziger Brothers.

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 415

such meagre food can never sustain the soul in the days of
hunger and exhaustion that follow upon the loss of its beloved ;
there must be a firmer realization of the ordinary truths and a
heartier appreciation of the value of religion in the time of
trouble. Such conviction and appreciation can come only by
reflection and- meditation made in the hours of mental and
spiritual equanimity.

It behooves the Catholic, then, to assimilate carefully the
doctrines and the consolations of the church against the day
of sorrow, to make death and the grave and the life beyond
familiar to his mind. To assist one in doing this, to supply
thoughts, to drive them home with forceful writing, to teach
the sanctity of suffering and of death, to hold forth the beau-
tiful, sure hope of the life beyond, has been the endeavor of
the author of the present volume. He has succeeded admira-
bly. Further than this he has ventured, for he has entered
into the everlasting controversy concerning the number of the
saved, and he has recorded his own mind and the mind of the
church concerning the proper disposition of the body after
death, showing that the much-advocated means of cremation is
entirely uncatholic and' unchristian.

To resume : The Morrow of Life affords an excellent treat-
ment of thoughts that should be familiar to all ; it is interest-
ing, scholarly, and conceived and written in a spirit of piety.

" A new kind of civilization " (is this the reason s, instead
of xr, is used ?) " has been preparing all through this nineteenth
century, ... so that the strong shall not oppress the weak,
and the man who can command will consent to obey." Mr.
Walter Besant thus encourages the perplexed humanitarian and
accentuates Social Settlements in his latest (The Alabaster Box)
as well as his initial book, All Sorts and Condition of Men, as
the remedy. The background of this vignette is the City of
the Settlement, any one of the squalid and degraded districts
of London where the factory turns human beings into reluc-
tant drudges instead of willing and eager artisans, where in the
constant society of each other, without any interest but self-
preservation, they indulge in crime as a pastime, and hatred
and discontent as the only proper sentiments. If his picture
of the slum is disheartening, the people who form the Settle-
ment are the brightest and most hopeful in all Asturia. " We
are looking for another and a far fairer (social) structure than
your narrow temple which holds so few," says the angel of the

416 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

Settlement to her sceptic, who, soured and dismayed by a re-
velation of the ill-gotten accumulation of his wealth, encour-
ages in himself the wrong state of mind. Instead of the hero
and heroine, this sceptic just a man, and this particular angel
preferably a woman, have discovered an attachment for each
other by revealing their love for all men and women ; instead
of the superfluous young men brewing mischief in novels, here
is the youth on fire with spiritual desires, an acrid dissolvent
in the base element of the slum, and the healthy. young man
who teaches the reckless tough to respect even sport by pay-
ing to it the courtesy of training. So at least it seems to the
reader surfeited with literature, dialectic and romantic, and
when he finishes these clear and concise pages he is resolved
to be the man who acts. This is a great deal for a book to
do. So seek diligently The Alabaster Box* and you will find a
jewel hidden therein which is different for every single person;
There are four fall-page illustrations of the four most dramatic
events of one week at the City of the Settlement.

Miss Yale's annual report of the Clarke School for the
deaf at Northampton, Mass.,f announces the addition of the
Gilmore gymnasium to the charming group of buildings which
crowns Round Hill. Few places in Massachusetts have more
distinguished associations than this spot, where Jenny Lind'
spent her honeymoon and George Bancroft taught school.
The Clarke institution made wonderful demonstration of the
power to teach lip-reading to the deaf at a time when the
theory was commonly doubted, and its progress in scope and
efficiency is a matter of congratulation.

The story of Blessed Jane \ is one of those religious biog-
raphies of a holy person which seems to be entirely without
that note of joy which reveals itself so constantly in reading
the records of the saints, and which is so premonitory to the
Christian heart of the great and glorious rewards that lie just
beyond that thin partition between the spirit and the flesh
which keeps the saint still suffering pain and sorrow and self-
denial together with its earthly kin.

Hardly any human joy could have brightened the shadowed
life of this afflicted daughter of a king, who was doomed to
suffer from birth to death the horrid injustice of that reproach

* The Alabaster Box. By Sir Walter Besant. New York : Dodd, Mead & Co.

t Thirty-second Annual Report of the Clarke School for the Deaf. Northampton, Mass.

J*4 Daughter of France. Being records of Blessed Jane, foundress of the Order of the
Annunciation. Curtailed from the French of Countess de Flavigny by Lady Martin. Lon-
don : Burns & Gates.

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 417

which belongs, with the kindred baseness of kingly oppression
and tyranny, to another age and generation than ours. Jane
was born a girl instead of a boy, and upon this decree of
Providence was depended the awful fate which was the un-
doing of her life on earth, though happily the building up of
her eternal felicity hereafter. It made her the scorn and re-
proach of men, but it also made her a saint.

Two translations* from the inexhaustible store of French
devotional life have recently been sent out to do their mission
among the devout of our own land. A reflection must per-
force come to one strongly at times, whether, to do this mis-
sion well and to make it of eternal account, it would not be
salutary to infuse into the stream of such piety that is con-
stantly being turned thithetward from these sources some
strong flavor of a native inspirational kind, which would turn
the bland insipidity of much of this pietistic literature, that has
been written to meet altogether different circumstances and
needs, into a really healthful stimulus to the religious life of
the Church here.

Another book f from the zealous Franciscans, and a trans-
lation also, has been given a striking value by Cardinal
Vaughan, that leader in the great army of social reformers in
the church to-day, having dignified it with a very strong com-
mendation in the preface he has written to it. He has said all
he has to say for the Third Order of St. Francis in this preface
by^pointing out what a mission lies before it if it adapts itself to
the needs of the time, through the important movement of social
reform now in the van of all other movements in the church
to-day. He makes a telling argument for its imperativeness in
one or two brief estimates of its value and its mission, and he
forcibly points out how much Catholics have drifted away from
earlier and better ideals of this spirit of Christian socialism.
He says : " In Catholic days, while distinctions of classes ex-
isted, as they always must exist in human society, there was a
Catholic Brotherhood in which all were gathered together, rich and
poor, learned and simple. It did not always exist as a brother-
hood in name, but it was a brotherhood in effect. During the

* The Perfect Religious. Instructions of Monseigneur d'Orleans de La Motte, Bishop
of Amien* The Divine Consoler. Little Visits to the Most Holy Sacrament. By J. M.
Angeli, of the Lazarist Fathers. Translated from the French. New York : Benziger Bros.

t The Spirit of the Third Order of St. Francis. Translated from the French of the Very
Rev. Father Peter Baptist, O.F.M. With a Preface by Cardinal Vaughan. London :
Catholic Truth Society.
VOL. LXXI. 27

418 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

last three hundred years we have been returning, in England,
to a condition of paganism that has developed into a positive
hostility and hatred between classes ; and we have thus been
departing further and further from the Christian ideal of a
Catholic Brotherhood. The separation of the poor from the
rich, of the operative from the capitalist, of the ignorant from
the learned, of the unrefined from the cultured, creating im-
passible barriers and fixing each class in an attitude of hostile
and selfish aloofness, has worked against Christianity, whose
divine mission it is to establish the spirit of a common Brother-
hood, among all who are the brethren of Jesus Christ." The
spirit of St. Francis, the cardinal thinks, is peculiarly adapted
to the spirit of all this. He says emphatically : " The work of
the CATHOLIC SOCIAL UNION is eminently a Franciscan work."
But he includes within the scope of it, by the appeal he makes
to the body of the faithful, every single Catholic who makes
profession of being a true child of the church.

Seumas MacManus's humor as a story-teller is of such an
irresistible sort that it is almost tantalizing ; it would almost
make one drop seriousness at a funeral and join in the good-
natured, healthy fun that he can stir up by the wizard touch of
the mischief-maker mischief too in its very best mood, the kind
that pokes a cheery joke under the very nose of the saddened
ancL disgruntled, and holds it there with sprightly insistency till
it elicits a smile from the sore-hearted or sore-headed ; it perhaps
more often slyly aims its cunning shafts at the latter than at
the former.

In a graceful little preface to his newest book * Mr. MacManus,
with an exquisitely ironical fling at this all-too-sober world,
ventures an apology for supposing that there may still be some
thirst among us for a draught from the " well-spring of merriment
jnto which, "he says, " he has dipped a sorry pail " ; and he explains
the cause of this weakness in himself by telling us, in that de-
precatory sort of a way that the Irish character can assume with-
out a hint of servility in it, that " in my Donegal civilization wins
but slowly, and the curse (?) of optimism clings to our valleys with
the pertinacity of the silver mists. He that considers even the
shorn lamb has given the wayward Celtic soul the power of
rising up, like Gulliver among the pigmies, and shaking UD earth
the little cares that would infest it."

* The Bewitched Fiddle, and other Irish Tales. By Seumas MacManus. New York :
Doubleday & McClure Company.

i goo.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 419

Some one has well commented on this irrepressibility of the
Irish humor by saying that nothing gives a truer estimate of
the purity of the Irish race than the perpetuation of this sense
of humor all through its course in modern civilization, in spite
of those awful afflictions which have come upon it, marking its
history as one of the saddest among the nations. It is indeed
this ever-present blending of pathos and wit that constitutes
the everlasting charm and attraction of the true Irish genius.

Father McMahon, like the sun whom he elects as his
travelling companion in his book, A Journey Around the World
'with the Sun* takes the reader well-nigh to the world's end
and back again. His glance seems to have been nearly as
comprehensive as that of the eye of day, taking in as it went
a view of the topography, politics, religion, customs, and social
life of the countries over which it passed. With such a method,
Father McMahon presents a vitascopic as well as a kaleido-
scopic series of pictures to the reader. He justly deemed it a
work of supererogation to linger very long over descriptions of
places made familiar by other travellers ; he has a tactful way
of making his visit to such much-lauded spots stand out con-
spicuously among others by telling some little pleasantry which
occurred there.

Perhaps the most interesting incident of the journey was
the visit to the Holy Land during Holy Week ; Good Friday
in Jerusalem is the theme of several very enjoyable pages.
Father McMahon's familiarity with Holy Writ makes his ac-
counts of these scenes particularly attractive ; one feels he has
taken the " wealth of the Indies " with him. He waxes elo-
quent over the Eternal City, thrilled by its religious as well
as its artistic charm for the traveller. But Ireland seems to
have been his Mecca after all. " When leaving home, an old
woman said to me: 'You'll go to Ireland, Father.' 'Yes,' I
said, ' but I '11 go there last.' * Why will you leave Ireland
for the last?' said she. * Don't we leave the nicest and sweet-
est things for the last ? ' said I." From the number of anec-
dotes told of his visits in other countries not so renowned for
wit and humor as is the Emerald Isle, one must feel that
Father McMahon was in his element on the soil which pro-
duces the most famous wags and raconteurs of the world.
One of the happiest specimens of wit the book contains is one

* A Journey Around the World with the Sun. By Rev. William McMahon. Cleveland :
Catholic Universe Publishing Co.

420 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

about the Devil's Glen. An Englishman said to an Irishman :
" The devil appears to own a great deal of property in Ireland.
I 've been shown the Devil's Glen and the Devil's Bit, and
several other places with his name attached." "True for you,"
said the Irishman ; " but like many other landlords, the devil
is an absentee and lives in England."

The book is attractively illustrated by pictures, different
from the usual ones which present stereotyped views of famous
places.

The Heiress of Cronenstein * is one of those numerous Ger-
man stories which are usually full of characters and trifling
detail. The first chapter leads us to expect a good strong
story, but the following ones do not realize expectations. The
principal characters an artist and an actress would seem to
call for many interesting developments, but this is where this
story is weakest. The characters are not developed to their
climaxes, hence the absence of a plot. The German setting
makes it lugubrious and out of the range of our sympathy.
American life and incident so fill our thoughts that it is
superfluous to go to a German source for amusement or dis-
traction. But it is not without interest, particularly in its
pathetic ending, and might have much interest for the omnivor
ous novel reader.

The unhappy Stuarts have formed the theme of many a
tale, grave and gay, and this is no exception. f A little page,
Gay Roy, is the centre of interest. A servant, he becomes the
friend and protector of his patroness, the beautiful Mary
Beatrice, wife of James II. The life of the court is faithfully
described and the sad import of these exciting times soon
brought home to the child courtier. He was made the mes-
senger on many occasions which have^made history. Father
Colombiere is introduced as the promoter of the devotion to
the Sacred Heart. A sequel is to be written to this book, which
might prove very interesting to the interested reader.

How the little Irish boy turns his face and his thoughts to
the new world under the influence of the rather mature reflec-
tion, " Westward the star of empire takes its way " ; how he
arrives on these shores with bright hopes and a clean face to

* The Heiress of Cronenstein. By Countess Hahn-Hahn. From the German, by Mary
H. Allies. New York : Benziger Brothers.

t THe Duchess of York's Page. By Mrs. William Maude. London : R. and T. Wash-
bourne ; New York : Benziger Brothers.

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 421

which last fact he owes his first employment in the new world,
viz., a grocer's boy with many possibilities and after a few
gentle trials becomes a self-respecting citizen ; how this is easily
accomplished if said little boy is sober, honest, and industrious,
seems to be the moral of this oft-told tale.*

To many it will seem strange that Professor Recce's latest
volume f should bear its present title, as scarcely more than
two or three pages are devoted directly to the subject of im-
mortality. But the finer critics who perceive the intimate con-
nection of individuality and immortality will greatly appreciate
the finely-drawn scheme of justification for belief in life beyond
the grave.

It is the varying conceptions of Reality that seem to differ-
entiate the modern schools of thought ; and this is but saying
that their differences are grouped about their notions of God
and man's relation to God. The Infinite Absolute, the Pure
Being, is the ultimate reality if he exists at all, and the justi-
fication of belief in him is the most momentous task to which
the philosopher may apply his efforts. Next to this comes the
justification of belief in other lesser realities individuals apart
from God. The general process pursued by Professor Royce
is a Kantian demonstration of the possession of immortality on
the part of individuals their immortality, like their individuality,
being known by the " practical reason " alone.

The essay merits praise. It emphasizes those unreasoned
"intimations," "misgivings," yearnings that are the ground of
a vast deal of all our knowing. One cannot but be stirred
and elevated by reflection on the beautifully sublime sugges-
tions born of direct meditation on the Divine Nature and its
partial self-expression in creatures. The dignity of human
nature and the grandeur of human destiny are thus emphasized
with startling vigor.

Doctor Pace's articles on St. Thomas's concept of immortal-
ity in the recent issues of the Catholic University Bulletin might
be of value to those readers of the volume before us who
would like to compare it with a luminous, forceful, and deep
study of the same topic from a larger point of view.

In the Notes of a Missionary fciest in the Rocky Mountains \

* Michael O'Donnell ; or, The Fortunes of a Little Emigrant. By Mary E. Mannix. The
Ave Maria Press.
t The Conception of Immortality. By Josiah Royce. New York : Houghton, Mifflin & Co.

% Notes of a Missionary Priest in the Rocky Mountains* By Rev. J. J. Gibbons. New
York and San Francisco, Cal. : Christian Press Association. Publishing Company.

422 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

Father Gibbons presents the public with a book delightful to
those whom accounts of physical prowess and endurance in-
terest, as well as to those whom records of spiritual effort and
ministration edify, for the notes are sketches of the West in
1888, when the missionaries' battle was to be fought not only
with intemperance, blasphemy, infidelity, and kindred vices
usually rife in mining districts, but also with rigors of climate,
with storms and avalanches often imminent, always disastrous,
with harrowing encounters with wild beasts, and worst of all
with pneumonia and other ills to which flesh is heir, to say
nothing of the dire accidents frequently occurring in the mines,
in the tunnel-making and laying of new railroads, accidents
which necessitated the priests being physicians of the body as
well as of the soul.

The scene of Father Gibbons's labors was the San Juan
country of Southwestern Colorado, " bounded on the north by
rugged ranges, on the south by New Mexico, on the east by
the Gunnison district, and on the west by Utah's Blue Moun-
tains ; a mountainous country diversified by rolling uplands,
smiling valleys, darkling glens, and rushing streams."

Father Gibbons recounts many interesting conversions, re-
forms of alcoholic victims, and dwells with special gratification
on the return of many honest sons of toil to the church from
which they had drifted. The book is attractively illustrated.

The author of fack Hildreth on the Nile* "makes the desert
talk," as Kipling says, in a story boys will read with avidity;
a story of several months' adventures in the land of the pyra-
mids, the Pharaos and great crocodiles.

We have so limited an amount of popular literature on the
subject of Holy Mass that we doubly welcome the new re-
print of the booklet by Cardinal Vaughan f while Bishop of
Salford. The spirit of simple piety and practical faith that
breathes through its pages will do much to inspire the Catholic
reader with new zeal and devotion for this central act of
Christian worship; while the non-Catholic will find in it a
clear explanation of the strange reverence and love displayed
by those who believe in the reality of the august Sacrifice.

A useful little volume:): just brought out by Father

* Jack Hildreth on the Nile. Adapted from the original of C. May by Marion Ames
Taggaft. New York, Cincinnati, Chicago : Benziger Brothers.

f The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. By Herbert Cardinal Vaughan. St. Louis : Herder.
\ The Church of Christ the Same For Ever. By D. McErlane, S.J. St. Louis : Herder.

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 423

McErlane consists of a detailed commentary on the Scripture
texts that record Christ's conferring of power upon his Apostles.
The simple and unpretentious style of the author will make
perusal of the volume a pleasant task for the inquiring reader,
and his directness and lucidity will be of no small assistance
to the convert-maker-, who must rely on the printed word to
do a great part of his work.

I. O'CONNELL, HIS LIFE AND HIS WORK, IN FRENCH.*

This book is for the French reader, and M. Godr has very
faithfully and gratefully performed his task, and presents
" Daniel O'Connell and his Work " very accurately to the French
public. The most savage reviewer becomes mollified as he
reads, through the charming medium of the most polite language,
the familiar story of Ireland as she is governed. The intelli-
gent biographer and who can excel the French in this mental
trait ? begins logically with the recital of the penal laws as an
introduction, because any famous Irishman, no matter what his
means of livelihood, is eventually drawn into the affairs of his
country ; it is his private as well as his public concern. In 1776
the independence of the United States was declared, the cry
of freedom was heard even in Ireland, so long despoiled of her
civil and religious liberty. Her hopes began to take the form
of a Relief Bill, which it was the chief life-purpose of Daniel
O'Connell to bring to successful issue. With infinite care the
French life gives the details of O'Connell's installation in London
as a young barrister, and his letters to his uncle at this period are
very calm and self contained, he had not shown yet the flame of
the "liberatrice." He soon penetrates into the House of Com-
mons, sacred to its leading men, and hears Fox and Pitt, those
famous ministers of this corrupt era in English politics. This
crowded page of history is related in beautifully correct French
and envelops the clumsy Anglo-Saxon in the graceful garment
of French prose. Some of the letters quoted sound charming
in the French tongue, as " Mignone," et " Mon cher cceur
me voici de nouveau ici, Darynane, entour de me bbs
et pensant a leur mere (who was at Killarney for her health)
mon tresor. Nell a bien gagne meme depuis le jeu de temps
que j'ai et absent Betsy et John sont dlicieusement bien et
excellents enfants." f

* Daniel O'Connell: sa Vie, son CEuvre. Paris : Victor Lecoffre.
t Correspondence of D. O'Connell.

424 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [June,

All through his (Daniel O'Connell's) exacting public life the
undercurrent of Christian fortitude and family affection is kept
intact, which the French author takes pains to make clear to
French sympathizers. The most interesting spectacle of a peo-
ple struggling for their religious liberty by the means of popular
agitation, which won for them from " nos terrible voisins "
a tardy Relief Bill ; the fiendish inventions of their enemy ;
" cette race terrible des Protestants d'Ulster," with the details
of their secret society, The Peep o' Day Boys " Gardens
du point du jour " the author conscientiously explains. As
' a child of the church O'Connell is introduced to the French
and his strict observance of his religious duties is emphasized.
All the sources of information have been thoroughly gleaned,
even the beginnings of the present condition of Ireland a
sympathetic French offering to Irish history. The sentimental
touch is not absent ; the meeting of O'Connell with Louis
Veuillot and Montalembert at Paris on his way to Rome.
The epilogue takes a sad comfort in recounting the eulogies of
foreign orators to the glories of the dead Liberator, and invites
us to mourn at Glasnevin cemetery, in which he reposes under
a round tower with the shamrocks all about, " le trefle de Saint
Patrick." In the preface occurs this epigram : " In history we
owe nothing to England but justice and truth." It may well
be the last word.

2. THE SETONS OF SCOTLAND AND AMERICA.*

Any one acquainted with the romantic history of Scotland
would be at once attracted by the title of this book,* and not
the less so that it is the work of an American scion of that
house whose clansmen called themselves, if we mistake not,
" the saucy Setons," and whose punning slogan was " Set on, set
on," as they put their spears in rest. Monsignor Seton pos-
sessed ample materials for the compilation in the bibliography
of the family prepared by kinsmen of the name or of other
names ; such, for instance, as " The History of the House of Sey-
toun to the year MDLIX., by Sir Richard Maitland of Lething-
ton, Knight, with the Continuation, by Alexander Viscount Kings-
ton, to MDCLXXXVIL, printed at Glasgow, MDCCCXXIX."
This Maitland of Lethington was a Seton on the mother's side,

* An Old Family, or the Setons of Scotland and America. By Monsignor Seton. New
York : Brentanos.

i goo.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 425

and very proud of the fact. Another book of the kind is a
History of the Family of Seton during Eight Centuries, by
George Seton, Advocate, M. A. Oxon., and so on. George
seems a favorite name with the family, and was the name of
the gallant and devoted lord so faithful to the fortunes of
the unhappy Queen Mary. Indeed, this George Lord Seton's
life would be a proof that chivalry in the best sense was a
conception of conduct informed by the Catholic spirit, and not,
as a recent writer states, sentiment substituted for religion and
the morality sanctioned by it. Seton had everything to gain
by joining the Lords of the Congregation ; but fidelity to the
church and loyalty to the queen compelled him to fling away
his castles, manors, and life, for all these he risked, for the
good cause.

That stainless purity of honor which is so often like pride
in its manifestation caused this George of Seton to refuse an
earldom which Mary offered at the time she was raising her
half-brother, James Stuart, to that rank. He begged to be
allowed to retain his lower rank as premier baron of Scotland,
which, he said, he preferred to that of junior earl. He must
have known that he would not have ceased to be premier
baron by his elevation there are some earls and so on, we all
know about it, who are prouder of being Barons by Summons
than earls and so on by patent of a later creation so there
may have been another reason. Did Mary guess what was in
his mind when she wrote with a diamond ring upon a window
of the great hall at Seton

"Sunt comites, ducesque alii, sicut denique reges :
Setoni dominum sit satis esse mihi ;

or was it merely a recollection from her French days of the
Sieur de Coucy ? The family is most ancient, and it almost seems
as if it could make the Douglas boast : Men saw the Douglases
in the stream, never in the fountain ; in the tree, never in the
sapling. There was a Seton with Macbeth : " the Lord Seton,"
as the " divine Williams" Anglo-French for ShaCspere has it.
Sir Christopher Seton of Seton married Lady Christian Bruce,
sister of Robert. In what Monsignor calls a quaint Life of
Robert Bruce, published in the early part of the eighteenth
century, this Sir Christopher is spoken of as

"The noble Seton, ever dear to fame,
A godlike Patriot, and a spotless name."

426 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS.

King Robert the Bruce erected a little chapel on the spot
where Sir Christopher was ^>ut to death by the English, that
Mass might be said for the soul of this faithful friend and near
connection. The first Scotch Seton appears in the reign of
Alexander I. (1107-1124) as Saher de Say. Monsignor Seton
states that " the Gael has furnished little to the Scottish peer-
age " ; and this is probably correct, though of the nine names
he gives as of Norman origin two are undoubtedly Gaelic
Campbell and Hamilton (Hamish) and Gordon probably. Stew-
art as a name proves nothing, for it comes from the office
Lord High Steward. Dapifer, possibly the original name of
the family, a matter which seems to have escaped Monsignor
Seton's memory, may have been Flemish, but not baronial.
Even the first Seton may have been a Scoto-Celt. We cannot
be sure of Lindsay, for the name is thought to have been taken
from an incident in a place, the incident and the place the factors
of the name. There are a thousand instances of this kind e.g. y
the Italian house Frangipani, from an incident ; Plantagenet from
a cognizance, and so forth. Where names were not taken from
a man's lands they were generally derived from something an
ancestor had done, or the man himself had done.

Why does not Monsignor Seton think Dougall was in
reality the Christian name of the second de Say, or de Say-
toun, son of Saher? Whether the Setons were pure Normans
or, like the Bruces, blended Norman and Gael, they played an
exceptionally honorable part in Scottish history. The family
pride which animated their widely-diffused branches seems to
be of the kind that will not permit men to fall far even when
pressed by the worst circumstances and in the midst of the
worst influences. We have an idea that George, above men-
tioned, supported himself in exile by driving a wagoner's cart ;
we say so with doubt, because if it were the case, a thing so
creditable to the most chivalrous noble in Scotland would not
have escaped his kinsman whd tells so much ; but among the
adherents of Bruce who wrote to John XXII. at Avignon
" that it was for liberty alone they fought," was Sir Alexander
Seton. Monsignor Seton has in this work one of the most in-
teresting books of family history we have seen, except, per-
haps, The Earls of Kildare by the late Duke of Leinster.

1900.] EDITORIAL NOTES.- 427.

EDITORIAL NOTES.

THE importance of the question of Education at this time
of the year has urged us to make this an Educational number.

A reliable statistician * recently made the statement that
while in 1850 there was one criminal to 3,500 of the popula-
tion, in 1890 there is one to every 786. If this statement can
be absolutely believed, and we think there is no reason to
doubt its accuracy, a most alarming state of affairs presents
itself.

We have the richest country, the most favored climate, the
greatest energy, and make professions of the highest ideals,
but the eager search for the golden fleece is supplanting in the
heart of the people the spirit of religion, and the statistics of
crime and vice are mounting up in an alarming way.

This condition of affairs may find a partial explanation in
the growth of the urban population. Undoubtedly the large
cities are hot-beds of vice, and reports show that by all odds the
largest number of criminals hail from the cities; but we do not
think that there is found in this fact an adequate explanation.
The disappearance of the spirit of religion from the great cur-
rents of national life is due principally to the exclusion of it
from the fountain sources. We have a plentiful supply of
national life and energy in the school system of the country,
but the hand that banished from the door of the school-house
the spirit of religion has deprived the national life and energy
of that element that alone will sweeten and perpetuate them.

If to-morrow some arrangement could be made whereby the
child could be religiously trained to love God and revere the
law, and if into every school-room of the country there could
be imported the definite religious teaching as well as the full
ethical influence which follows in the wake of positive re-
ligious teaching, it would take but a few years to transform
the spirit of the times. There is no question where the Catho-
lic Church stands on the matter. She has the courage of her
convictions. But if the non-Catholic churches would put aside
the dog-in-the-manger attitude that they have preserved in this
matter of education, there would be immeasurably less talk
about decaying religions and empty, churches, and immeasura-
bly more honesty, purity, liberality, and devotion to the
higher ideals.

* H. M. Boise in Prisoners and Pauperism.

428 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [June,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

FOR the first time there is to be a Summer-School conducted during July and
August under the direction of Columbia University, New York City. A
circular has been prepared giving details of the courses arranged by Dr.
Nicholas Murray Butler. Very considerable progress has been made recently
in providing for the professional training of teachers at Teachers' College of
Columbia University. Under the name of College for the Training of Teachers
it began its work in the fall of 1887 as one of the two departments of the In-
dustrial Education Association, the other branch of the work of the association
being concerned with the creation of public interest in manual training as an
intellectual discipline. It was incorporated by the Regents as Teachers' College
in 1889; it became affiliated with Columbia and Barnard in 1893, and finally, on
March 22, 1898, it was made a part of the educational system of Columbia
University, becoming its professional school for the study of education and the
training of teachers. As such it takes co-ordinate rank with the schools of law,
medicine, and applied science.

Now that the college has taken its place in a university system its scope
includes not simply such purely professional subjects as the theoretical and
practical training of teachers of elementary and secondary schools, of specialists,
of principals and superintendents, but also the broader field of the investigation
of educational foundations, the interpretation of educational ideals, the inven-
tion of educational methods, and the application of educational principles. At
least these are the tasks to be accomplished by the school as they are outlined
by Dr. James E. Russell, dean of the college, in the opening number of 7 he
Teachers' College Record, recently published. The sub-title of this new publi-
cation described it as a journal devoted to the practical problems of elementary
and secondary education, and the professional training of teachers. Each
number, according to the announcement, will treat of a specific problem in the
work of the kindergarten, elementary school, high-school, or some department
of Teachers' College. The experience of the college, to the extent that it is a
typical professional school for teachers, should be valuable not only to its own
students and graduates, but also to others engaged in similar work.

In the opening paper by Dr. Russell, on The Function of the University in
the. Training of Teachers, he makes a strong plea for the claims of education
to university recognition. He gives due credit to the normal schools as having
furnished the strongest teachers to the public schools. In the case of elementary
school teachers economic conditions have set as the extreme limit of academic
training the completion of a high-school course of study. Conversely, economic
laws have also determined that teachers whose training is thus limited cannot
hope to be leaders in education or take the higher places in the profession.
And just as it is necessary to have a West Point for the systematic training of
competent leaders in the army, so the training of the leaders in education must
surpass that obtainable in the normal school it is properly the function of the
university. The Teachers' College is not a normal school ; neither is it Hmite4
as a university department of pedagogy. It ranks as a professional school for
\

1 900.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 429

teachers, and as such maintains university standards. Competition has become
so keen that the nolder of the baccalaureate degree is finding it more and more
to his advantage, in order to secure a place as a teacher in a secondary school,
to have taken post-graduate work in his chosen specialty, or pedagogical train-
ing, and preferably both. The keenness of this competition, according to Dr.
Russell, is the opportunity of the teachers' colleges. It is precisely this condi-
tion of affairs which makes possible for the first time in America a serious con-
sideration of ideal methods of training leaders.

For the ideal preparation of such teachers Dr. Russell states that there are
four qualities pre-eminently desired : General culture, professional knowledge,
special knowledge, and skill in teaching. As requirements in general culture he
adopts those laid down in the report of the Committee of Fifteen on Elementary
Education, which recommended that teachers of elementary schools should
have a secondary or high-school education, and that teachers of high-schools
should have a collegiate education. Under professional knowledge he groups
that of the psychology of the adolescent period and the nature of man as a social
being, the history of education, and such technical subjects as school economy,
school hygiene, and the organization, supervision, and management of schools.
Without special knowledge of the subject to be taught the teacher becomes a
slave to the text-book, and his work degenerates into a formal routine without
life, spirit, or educative power. One may possess the qualifications of general
culture, special and professional knowledge, and still lack the technical skill
necessary to make him a successful teacher.

A recent book from the pen of the Abbe" Felix Klein is the Life of Mon-
signor Dupont des Loges. According to a review in the Univers he has sus-
tained his reputation as a brilliant, sympathetic, and modern writer. These
qualities are shown also in his lectures. Before a large gathering at the
Catholic Club of the Luxembourg he lately discussed the subject of An Ideal
in Literature. The Paris correspondent of the Liverpool Catholic 7imes states
that the lecture demonstrated that the highest ideal in literature was that
which combined the utmost beauty of form with the utmost perfection of subject-
matter. According to him, the test as to how far this ideal was attained in
works of literary art was the amount of intellectual and moral activity these
works called forth in the greatest number of persons.

Selections from different poets were given, gracefully pointing the lecturer's
arguments. Then a galaxy of writers was cited as representing literary art in
its highest expression, and as consequently appealing with the greatest force to
the greater number of our faculties, moral and intellectual. In the galaxy Dante
and Shakspere had place ; so had Paschal and Bossuet ; and among the
moderns, Victor Hugo, Lamartine, and Pere Gratry of the Oratory. The Abbe
Klein, being essentially a modern, showed the qualities a modern writer should
have in order to influence his fellows across the boundary lines of the frontier.
According to him this writer should be universal in sympathy, knowledge, and
power of expression.

The lecturer took his hearers with him in a voyage of imagination, giving
them a brilliant bird's-eye view of the different countries of the globe. He then
asked what sage who had been a student only could equal the sage who had
been a traveller also, and who had studied men and countries from the life ?
Rising from human works of art to the Divine Artist, he showed God in the

430

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

[June,

beauty of his creation to be almost visible to human eyes, and calling forth in
response to that beauty the exercise of our highest faculties of thought and
feeling.

In conclusion the lecturer said: " The nearer the human artist approaches
his Divine Model the nearer he is to attaining his ideal. He makes the best
writer who, endowed with the finest powers of heart and mind, and being at the
same time the best, wisest, and most loving of men, devotes his great gifts to the
good of his fellow-men, inciting in these the greatest possible amount of good-
ness, light, and love. One alone by His language has attained this ideal, but He
was not a man only. He was the Way which we must go, the Truth which we
must know, and the Life that we must live. Glory to him who being God-Man
is for that reason in aesthetics, so in morals, and, in fact, in every order of ideas
and facts, the divine ideal of humanity."

Writing from London, in the New York Times, William L. Alden calls at-
tention to the conflicting opinions regarding Ruskin put forth in the pages of
the Fortnightly Review and Blackwood' s Magazine. The Blackwood writer
can find no good in Ruskin. He knew nothing of painting or architecture, and
his theories of political economy were preposterous. He contradicts Ruskin
out of his own mouth, and shows that he praised one day what he utterly con-
demned the next. The article is one of the genuine, old-time Blackwood
slashers. It deals only in the superlatives of condemnation, and it will not
admit that Ruskin wrote English.

The Fortnightly Review uses more moderate language, but its condemna-
tion of/Ruskin as a teacher is equally thorough. Ruskin was wrong from first
to last, and his influence on art and literature was bad from beginning to end.
Usually when a great, or at least a prominent man dies, there is a general
tendency to speak kindly of him. In the case of Ruskin there seems to be
none of this kindly feeling, at least so far as the two writers just mentioned
are concerned. This is certainly strange, especially as Ruskin was blameless
in his life, and a generous benefactor to scores of persons.

This unexpected expression of dislike for one who a few years ago was
regarded almost as an infallible teacher in matters of art, must be due in part
to the persistent way in which Ruskin bullied his readers. Take his chaptei
in Mornings at Florence on the Church of Santa Maria Novella. In that
chapter he tells his readers that if they do not agree with him in every state-
ment that he makes they are fools and blind. In like manner he bullies the
reader of his Venetian books. There was a time when we submitted humbly
to this sort of thing, believing that Ruskin was infallible, and that if we differed
from him we were unfit to live. All the same we secretly chafed under it, and
now that Raskin's authority has vanished and the man himself has gone, it
must be a relief to many people to read the bitter invective of the Black
writer and the calmer condemnation of the Fortnightly Review.

Nothing is easier than to prove that Ruskin contradicted himself, and was
therefore an unsafe guide. He seemed to care nothing for consistency. Occa-
sionally he admitted in his later writings that he had been mistaken in some
of the things that he had written earlier in life. This was in nowise discredita*
ble to him, but it is not of that sort of contradiction that the Blackwood writer
complains. Ruskin many times deliberately said the very opposite of some-
thing, that he had previously said, and never deigned to explain such contradic-

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 431

tions. Again, there is nothing easier than to select passages from Ruskin's
writings which are, especially when taken apart from the context, simply absurd.
But that such a method of summing up the man's long and busy life is just,
probably no one believes.

Grant all that can be said against Ruskin, and there still remains enough
to his credit to insure him a high and permanent place in English literature.
Grant that his theories of art and of political economy were untenable, still his
theories of what is true and noble in life cannot be contradicted. It is as an
ethical teacher that he will live. As such he has helped thousands of men
and women, and will help thousands more. As such the English-speaking
world owes a debt to him that can hardly be overestimated.

We are pleased to learn that Miss Josephine Lewis, one of the earliest
and most faithful friends of the work proposed by the Columbian Reading
Union, has been winning deserved success as an artist in Buffalo. In a recent
contribution published in the Buffalo Commercial she declares that there is a
tendency to consider as art only that which goes into a gold frame. Americans
have the greatest mechanical appliances ever devised. But in the opening up
of a new country we have occasionally forgotten the wonders of the human
hand. We send abroad for hand-made laces, carry home from old European
abbeys bits of carving, and sometimes we wonder why these quaint old things
hold our hearts so firmly. We think, then, that maybe the soul left an impress
on these hand-wrought things, to which we respond with something like human
affection. And so we love those adornments made for house or person in a
manner quite impossible toward machine-made articles.

We are developing a school of American painters whose merits are un-
questioned : our own Abbey, Sargeant, and Whistler winning fame, and Eng-
land coaxing them from us ! But in the minor arts we have copied the old
masters. Why have we developed no characteristic American lace ? no per-
sonality in wood-carving? Because for many years popular schools were de-
voted to mental and not manual training. So when our boys and girls took
their places in the world, the fingers failed to give them the pleasure that
trained hands give to their owners. Our fairy tales of the dark ages lose their
vitality when we step into the old world and see the beauty left from the old-
time crafts. The labor unions were not then banded together to fight for their
rights, but were labor guilds wherein the master workmen were honored and
beloved, and the men encouraged and respected. The guilds were the pride of
the nation, the rules governing them full of affection and artistic impulse. Men
worked because they found joy in the labor of their hands. Who can walk
through the old streets of Rouen to-day, on a sudden turn to find himself facing
the cathedral towers, uprising like masses of snowy lace, and not feel that the
hands and hearts that spent themselves in building up the beauty, did it with
love in their labor?

All peoples do not speak one language, so let the painter have his brushes,
the illustrator his pens, but let us not be blind to the beauty wrought by the
worker on leather, or in wood, in metals and in stone, with linen and with wool.
They also have a high place, and let us honor them and their creators for the
joy they give to us. The next great step that Americans will make will be to
develop untrained fingers and eyes; the brains are not lacking. When we
understand the artist-artisans, and they, finding an appreciative public, are en-

432 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [June, 1900.]

couraged to give us their best effort, the shadow of the labor agitations will
diminish. Handwork will be in demand, and our people will surpass the lace-
makers of France and the wood-carvers of Switzerland.

'* * . *

The McBride Readers have been placed on the authorized list prepared for
the Parish Schools of New York City. Books were chosen with reference only
to their educational value. No partiality was intended for any publisher. For
exceptional merit the Rev. M. J. Considine, Superintendent of Schools in the
Archdiocese of New York, wrote a well-merited tribute of praise in favor of the
study of arithmetic prepared by Mr. John H. Walsh, associate Superintendent in
Brooklyn, and The Young Citizen, by Mr. C. F. Dole, published by D. C. Heath
& Co. A new edition of the Teacher's Manual is now for sale by the Cathedral
Library Association, 123 East Fiftieth Street, New York City.
* * *

Mr. Kegan Paul, the English publisher, who has lately issued a book of
Memories, is of the opinion that literature is not in itself a profession. He is
sorry for the young author who has nothing to fall back upon. Wherein he
disagrees with Sir Walter Besant, who thinks that one may make a very good
living out of letters. Mr. Paul tells a droll story of a royal gentleman, presuma-
bly the Prince of Wales, asking several eminent professional men about their
incomes. The surgeon said he made about ,15,000 a year. The lawyer con-
fessed to ,25,000. Sir John Millais put his yearly earnings at possibly ,35,000,
and when the prince expressed surprise the artist went on, somewhat nettled:
"Well, sir, as a matter of fact, last year I made ,40,000, and might have made
more had I not been taking holiday longer than usual in Scotland." Browning
and Matthew Arnold were present. The former put his arm through Arnold's
and Mr. Paul's and said, " We don't make that by literature, do we ? " Tenny-
son, according to Mr. Paul, was a thorough man of business, and " our final part-
ing at the end of one of our periods of agreement was that we as publishers and
he as author took a different view of his pecuniary value."

* * #

Mr. Andrew Lang has described " The Man in the Street," the average,
uninstructed, unlettered, uncritical individual for whom it is useless to write
good books or to paint good pictures. He is not, as a matter of fact, a demo-
cratic type ; he comes from no particular social stratum. He may be a prince or
a duke; he may be a haberdasher's assistant, a curate, or a stockholder, or a
journalist. Mr. Lang's simple statement has in it a little unspoken sermon. It
reminds us all that a love of literature has nothing to-do with classes. We put
the blame for the growth of cheap journalism and trashy fiction on the shoul-
ders of the lower classes, but the worst harm is done by those readers of all
classes who have some education and might be expected to profit by it, if it
were not that they have had the misfortune to be born without taste. Without
perhaps being conscious of it, they often give a trashy book its chance where
frankly ignorant people in the lower strata wouldnot dream of supporting it. In
short, neither democracy nor any other creation of men's minds will serve, no
matter how developed, to set the balance right in the matter of literature.

M. C. M.

CLAUDE BERNARD.
(See page 513.}

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD,

VOL. LXXI. JULY, 1900. No. 424.

THE PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC

CHURCH.

BY DR. B. F. DE COSTA.

THE BIBLE AND ITS INTERPRETER.

HAT is the Bible?

In a little cave at Bethlehem, in the com-
pany of antique books and dim parchments, it
was given to Saint Jerome to see the Bible
as no other scholar of his or perhaps any age
ever saw the Book ; and thus a single volume
expanded in supernatural splendor before his
envisioned sight until he was able to give the
Book its true name, " The Divine Library."
To-day this Library is worth more than all other libraries com-
bined. Other books grow^ old, but this one is invested with
perpetual youth. As in ancient days, its leaves are for the
healing of the nations. Its power is greater to-day than in
any previous age. Some of the grandest of the ancient libraries
have perished, but the Divine Library holds its place in a
world eager for novelty. It maintains its ascendency by its
original charm. No apology need be offered for one more
discussion of a book of undying interest, so fresh and fair,
every page touched with live coals from the Altar of God.

It is proposed, in three articles, to present three phases of
the general subject, though no exhaustive treatment will be
attempted. The first touches upon the subject of Inspiration,

STATE OF NEW YORK. 1900.
VOL. LXXI. 28

434 PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. [July,

since it would be idle to avoid its consideration. What people
need to be assured of to day is, that the Bible is an inspired
Book ; for if it does not differ fundamentally from other books
known in Oriental literature as sacred books, it can never meet
the wants of the world or withstand its criticism.

Who is it that answers the question, Is the Bible inspired?
I reply that the Catholic Church gives the answer. This answer
is given by the only body capable of giving an answer. It is
given in no uncertain tone, and the religious world cannot evade
the issue, pressed home by the Catholic Church. The church
has a spokesman. In his Encyclical, Providentissimus Deus, Leo
XIII. makes known the mind of the church. While recogniz-
ing that unimportant verbal variations occur in the ancient
manuscripts, the Holy Father teaches what all scholars know
to be true, that the trifling differences do not affect the authori-
tative sense. He says :

".It is true, no doubt, that copyists have made mistakes in
the text of the Bible ; this question, when it arises, should be
carefully considered on its merits, and the fact not too easily
admitted, but only in those passages where the proof is clear.
It may also happen that the sense of a passage remains am-
biguous, and in this case good hermeneutical methods will
greatly assist in clearing up the obscurity. But it is absolutely
wrong and forbidden, either to narrow inspiration to certain
parts only of Holy Scripture, or to admit that the Sacred
Writer has erred."

This statement makes the position of the church perfectly
clear, and should alone be sufficient for loyal Catholics ; yet
fuller declarations even are made, in which it is said that "it
is impossible that God Himself, the Supreme Truth, can utter
that which is not true," and that what God willed the sacred
writers " expressed in apt words with infallible truth." It
should be noted, that the Holy Father does say that the record
is infallibly true when truly interpreted, but that it is infallible
truth ; and, therefore, in this connection we may safely and
consistently employ his words when speaking of Holy Scripture.
There is scant room for any quibbling, since the quibbler is
disposed of in the following paragraph :

" There has arisen, to the great detriment of religion, an
inept method, dignified by the name of the * higher criticism/
which pretends to judge the origin, integrity, and authority of
each Book from internal indications alone."

1900.] PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. 435

The Holy Father favors and provides for a thorough system
of Bible study, embodying a true and sound criticism, but the
type that he condemns is declared a " vaunted " criticism, that
will throw no true light upon Holy Scripture, but simply
eliminate all miracle and prophecy. The so-called Higher Critic
tells the world that the object of Biblical criticism is to separ-
ate the wheat from the chaff, the mythical from the historical,
claiming to find every kind of error in the Bible. The church,
however, holds that, when properly understood, the Bible con-
tains nothing erroneous. An effort has been made by enemies
of a sound, conservative criticism to have it appear as though
the Catholic Church were responsible for the introduction of
the Higher Criticism, which aims to divest the Bible of truth
and authority. Let us, therefore, glance at its origin.

Biblical criticism has never lacked an un-Apostolic succes-
sion of carping critics. In one form or another, adverse criti-
cism has been in vogue ever since there was any Scripture to
criticise. The Higher Critics think they find radical criticism
in connection with the first alleged movement towards the
creation of the Old Testament books. Higher Criticism, how-
ever, as a formal thing, began at the Reformation. Luther in
his crude fashion attacked and rejected entire books.

Spinoza, the Jewish Pantheist, is also recognized in connec-
tion with the formal opening of hostile criticism, and he is
absurdly eulogized by an advocate of this kind of criticism, as
one of " the providential agents for calling the church to a
fresh investigation of the sacred oracles." The church, how-
ever, has not responded to this providential call, unless a hand-
ful of hostile critics constitute the church, on the principle
that the Three Tailors of Tooley Street constituted the people
of England.

We are told that soon after Spinoza, whose criticism " was
shrewd but conjectural," came Father Simon, a Catholic,
representing that " the historical books as made up of the
ancient writings of the prophets, who were public scribes, and
wrote down the history in official documents on the spot, from
the time of Moses onward, so that the Pentateuch, in its
present shape, is not the work of Moses." Basing their attacks
on Simon, several writers have attempted to make the Catholic
Church responsible for the Higher Criticism, forgetting that
they had already credited the movement to the Reformation ;
while Dr. Briggs himself states that the theory of Simon " was
at once attacked and destroyed." But by whom ? Simon is

436 PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. [July,

generally regarded as the father of the present historical intro-
duction to the Scriptures, but his critical theories have always
been opposed by Catholic theologians. His Histoire Critique
du Vieux Testament was put on the Index, February 9, 1683 ;
while his New Testament took the same course in 1687 and
1700. The case of the author remained as it was in 1889. To
bring forward Father Simon as a Catholic teacher on Holy
Scriptures, and to hold the church responsible for his utter-
ances, is simply absurd. The attempt to foist this theory upon
the Catholic Church is simply scandalous, like the well-known
charge that the Higher Criticism is set up in Catholic institu-
tions. Yet how far Simon actually was, after all, from the
Higher Criticism is indicated by the fact that its advocates
reject his theories, which are based upon the antiquity of the
Pentateuch and the historic character of its contents. The
charge vaguely brought against unnamed " Roman Catholic
divines" may be passed over as unworthy of notice.

The German, Eichhorn, who published his work on the Old
Testament in 1780, is set down as the moving spirit in this
false method of dealing with the Scriptures. The movement
was distinctly German. Catholics have indeed entered upon
critical studies, but they are thoroughly safeguarded, rendering
serious apprehension for the honor of the Divine Word quite
needless. Catholics, whatever they may think or teach about
the composite character of the Pentateuch, or the authorship
of particular books, find a limit in the Encyclical of Leo XIII.,
who declares the Bible to be the infallible Word of God, in-
fallible because inspired, and, consequently, " infallible truth."

In this connection one rose up of whom Catholics would
now fain say very little, for it has been well observed, that
"when a savant passes ten years after he has ceased to think
clearly, the world should forget all, except that he was great
in his day." Yet to ignore the memory of St. George Mivart
would not be undoing the evil that he has done and is still
doing, especially where he is made to say that "educated
Catholics no longer feel bound to regard the Bible in the old
light " that is, of the Councils and that " no man of education
now regards the Biblical account of the Fall as more than a
myth " ; while, as expressed in various ways, " No educated
Catholic views the Bible as plenarily inspired." The Holy
Father, therefore, together with the bishops and clergy and
the large body of laity trained in colleges and universities,
are not "educated." When the mind of a savant thus gives

1900.] PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. 437

way, one need not be surprised to find, in the melancholy in
tellectual failure, the individual so entirely laying aside dignity
and self-respect " as to compare Scripture narratives with the
story of Jack and the Beanstalk." Yes, Mivart was once great.
He fell from heaven like lightning. Yet in the midst of his
aberration he was honest. He did not attempt to juggle with
the Encyclical of 1893. He said it was " a bolt out of the
blue," and he frankly admitted that its plain language was the
voice of the church, declaring Scripture to be " infallible
truth."

Still, no one should misunderstand the language of the
Holy Father, when he interprets the Councils. One makes a
serious mistake in supposing, because a writing is "infallible
truth," that it has the power to burn its meaning into the
brain and infallibly fix the meaning of the words in the mind.
The infallible record does not lend itself to private judgment.
That is pure Protestantism. The sun moves with absolute
correctness, yet, by the sun, people in general cannot tell when
it is twelve o'clock. An inspired writing appeared on the
palace wall at Babylon, but Daniel alone knew what it meant.
Men are not able by their unaided judgment to interpret the
Bible, and God has provided an infallible authority to that
end. It is unfortunate, indeed, that so many are unable to
recognize the infallibility of Scripture without recognizing in-
fallibility in themselves. The written word described as " in-
fallible truth " has no power to impart infallibility to the mind.

The church has assumed the only safe and logical attitude
that it is possible to hold in respect to Holy Scrjpture. Saint
Jerome and Saint Augustine held that there could be no com-
promise. The decrees of the Councils on the Bible must stand,
otherwise no decree can stand, and the infallibility of the
church is shaken. The Rubicon was. crossed at an early day.
There can now be no retreat. Christianity must be defended
on Bible lines. This means the defence of the Bible. This is
all possible on the part of the Catholic Church. On the other
hand, it should be noticed that the bodies representing the
Protestant Reformation cannot defend it. These bodies are in
the position of a general who does not know the character or
extent of a system of fortification that he has to defend, and
has no agreement or understanding with his officers. Protest-
antism has no plan of campaign. This is something that the
good men in that movement need speedily to learn. There is
no agreement among them with respect even to what the

438 PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH, [July,

Bible really is. They cannot agree about its inspiration or in-
terpretation ; and defensive attempts of one party are repudi-
ated and ridiculed by the other. Often their attempts at
defence become laughing-stocks among both infidels and them-
selves. In their hands the Bible is indefensible. But Catholics
know what they have to do. The Bible in all its parts, the
Old and New Testament, according to Florence, Trent, and
the Vatican, is the inspired Word of God, and as such is to
be regarded with the profoundest veneration and defended at
any and all cost to the last. Knowing how to conduct the
defence, the church does not leave the Bible to private judg-
ment or throw it open to attack from the outside. The church
has no responsibility for interpretations that she does not en-
dorse, and avoids those interpretations that array Scripture
against science. Individuals may err, but the church does not
attempt to use the Bible to block science. The church invites
no conflict between science and the Bible, knowing well that
there can be no disagreement between true religion and true
science, and that Nature and the Bible are at one. Where
Protestantism disputes the Catholic Church refrains, knowing
that time will reveal the truth, that difficulties will vanish, and
that science will take her place as the handmaid of religion.
There has been no change in the policy of the church.
Mivart harped upon the case of Galileo in vain. The policy
in the day of the Tuscan astronomer was the same as now,
and therefore the church can do what the disunited and dis-
tracted denominations cannot do. The church can defend the
inspired Bible, and still hold her place in the estimation of
the educated intelligence of the world, appearing among think-
ing men equally the friend of reason and revelation. The
position of the church is simply impregnable. The entire
Catholic faith is invulnerable. Philosophy for more than two
hundred years has been shaping itself with reference to Matter
and its Extension in a way that renders the loftiest verity of
the Faith philosophically acceptable. On the other hand, the
Reformation bodies, beginning with the Anglican and Lutheran,
are intellectually insolvent, presenting a tremendous case of
the bankrupt, unable to meet the drafts of educated intelli-
gence. The Reformation party has had unequalled opportu-
nities in this land for no less than three hundred years, with
the result that the bulk of the people have drawn away from
all religious organization and from belief in the Bible, which is
ridicule'd in thousands of Protestant pulpits. On the other

IQOO.] PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. 439

hand, the place of the Bible in the Catholic Church is daily
coming to be better understood and appreciated, and Catholics
are learning to entertain clearer views of their duty. By a
conservative handling of the Scriptures, the church can do and
is doing what no other organization can accomplish. But all
study and interpretation must be conducted in subordination
to the words of the Holy Father. Whoever is loyal to the
Head of the Church cannot go far astray. The church affords
the Bible ample protection. It has reared a wall around the
Scriptures more invulnerable than any built by Roman emperors
around the Eternal City on the Tiber, that we may be warned
with regard to the destructive nature of the Higher Criticism
and appreciate the task the church has to perform in defend-
ing Inspiration. The brief reference already made* to the
utterances of the late unfortunate St. George Mivart indicate
something of the character of the Higher Criticism, but for
those who have no leisure to study the system it may be use-
ful to point out a few of the results.

As regards the Old Testament, these men hold, as an im-
provement upon the earliest critics, that in the formation of
the books there were groups of writers, Ephraimistic and
Judaistic, and that they were followed by Deuteronomic and
Priestly writers, who used early documents ; and the latter
seem, according to Dr. Briggs, the most original of the higher
critics. The modern representatives of the school hold that
they have made it evident that all the books of the Old
Testament have passed through the hands of editors who did
not hesitate to make the most radical changes in the original,
to adapt them to their purpose. The work has been pushed
with reference to fixing the dates of the books in their present
form at the late period of the Restoration. The same is at-
tempted with the New Testament, and we are told that there
was a Mark's Gospel that has disappeared with the so-called
Logia of Matthew, and that these formed the basis of the
present Gospels ; while the effort is being made to treat the
Epistles in the same way. Already the critic claims the
ability to give the real words of the Saviour in a better form
than we now have them in the Gospels. Studies along this line
belong to what might be called the Romance of theological
literature, being in sympathy with the Don Quixotes who
essayed apocryphal Gospels in the times before the Canon of
Scripture was fixed. The Pentateuch is now set down as a
forgery of a late date, perpetuated to support the claims of a

440 PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. [July,

priesthood that had no existence in the times of the alleged
Moses. This person never led the children of Israel out of Egypt.
They have not yet got on so far as to deny that any such
country as Egypt ever existed, but they are quite certain that
there never was any Exodus. The people afterwards known
as Hebrews and Jews were assembled by a leader on the
border of Chanaan, when they invaded and captured the land ;
afterwards adopting, substantially, the religion of the people
whom they conquered. When the time came that the Jews
needed a respectable ancestor for their nation, they heard of a
celebrated sheik who lived in Chanaan, and they dressed him
up as " Abraham, Father of the Faithful." The Levite and the
Law were invented in the same spirit, as royalty was found
invading the rights and duties of the priesthood, assuming
equality with the hierarchy. It was forgery naked and deliber-
ate. The most shocking part of the theory teaches, that our
Blessed Lord was ignorant of this vast fraud ; that he did not
know that Abraham, the Father of the Faithful, never existed ;
that the Priests and the Law were inventions ; that the Books
of Moses were not ancient books, but were written after the
Jews returned from exile, and that all the stories about
Abraham, Jonas, and Daniel were simply pious falsehoods. It
was in sublime ignorance of these things, now kindly made
known by the Higher Criticism, that He said, " I am the way
and the truth," affirming himself to be " greater than Jonas,"
and saying, " Before Abraham was I am." To break the force
of all this blasphemy, those who do not already openly deny
the Divinity of Christ have invented a doctrine of " Kenosis,"
in accordance with which the Divine Saviour could at times
drop into a state of ignorance, and, like any ordinary being, be-
come the victim of fancy and fable. This may do for sceptics
and incipient Socinians, but true Catholics can view it only
with abhorrence. The Catholic Church claims to be a body
that can never deceive nor be deceived ; yet if the Higher
Criticism is true, it has been a deceived and a deceiving body
for some eighteen centuries, holding myth and fable as his-
toric truth, and as the foundation of her evangelical system of
teaching. It is idle to say that our Lord knew that these
stories were forgeries, and yet allowed the world, for some
reason not known to us, to accept them as truth. Pray, how
does the advocate of " criticism " know that our Lord knew
the stories of the Old Testament to be falsehoods? Better
would it be for the critics to take their place with the infidel,

1900.] PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. 441

and deny the Divinity of Christ outright, and have done with
it. That is what every advocate of the Higher Criticism will
be forced to do at last, following in the steps of Eichhorn,
Wellhausen, and their American* imitators.

Having thus exhibited the main position of this class of
destructive critics, one can readily imagine the havoc they at-
tempt to work with both the Old and New Testaments. It is
the case of Samson over again, the critic straining to pull
down the pillars of the house. These down, they propose to
build a new house, a " new Bible." The Creation, the Deluge,
with Ruth and Jonas, are interesting creations of the imagina-
tion, but nothing more. The real truths of the ancient times
are buried, like ancient Jerusalem, under the accumulated
rubbish of the ages, and " the valleys of Biblical truth have
been filled up with the debris of human dogmas, ecclesiastical in-
stitutions, liturgical formulas, priestly ceremonies, and casuistic
practices." Therefore " historical criticism is digging through
the mass of rubbish, searching for the rock bed of divine truth
and for the massive foundations of the Divine Word, in order,"
we are told, " to recover the real Bible." Thus, "the real
Bible " is what they pretend to be in search of, but how
much better off will they be when they have found " the
real Bible " ? They will not be able to interpret the new book
any better than the old one. Worst of all, they do not seem
to be capable of appreciating the fact, that when they get the
new Bible they will not have the " massive foundations" they
desire. No Bible, new or old, will ever be able to take the
place of the real "pillar and ground of truth," for the Church
of the living God, as the Apostle declares, is the pillar and
ground of truth.

But Catholics understand very well that it is not the infidel
critic who may say what is Bible and what is not. That is the
office of the church, which once for all fixed the Canon of
Scripture, and stands to-day the interpreter and guardian of
the sacred deposit. Catholics, therefore, need to study their
attitude towards the Higher Criticism with much care, since, in
the general doubt cast upon the entire Bible, there does not
remain a single text unquestioned. The sayings of our Blessed
Lord have not yet been identified and differentiated from the
mass of error in which, it is claimed, they are imbedded. We
are not even allowed to know, as yet, whether the words,
"This is my body" and "this is my blood," belong to the
genuine Logia of the Master, and consequently it is idle to

442 LOVE'S WISDOM. [July.

hold anything on the subject. On the Protestant principle,
that the infallible Word is the supreme authority, there is not
a single item of the Creed that can be demonstrated as essen-
tial. Fortunately for Catholics, the Bible did not create the
Creed. The Creed existed and was believed, and was died for
by martyrs, before the New Testament existed. Yet Catholics
are called upon now as never before to honor and to believe
the Bible as confirmatory of the teachings of the Church ; and
any system of criticism that throws in doubt the authenticity
of the words which form the foundation of the great Sacra-
ment, must be shunned by Catholics as simply endangering
their souls.

The story of the Higher Criticism forms a ghastly recital.
It proposes, independently of the church, to say what is and
what is not holy Scripture. It leaves the soul without any
kind of authority to lean upon, without ground for hope in
this life or in the life to come. One, perhaps, may or may
riot think that a certain book is actually the work of a certain
author. The real danger comes when a person denies that a
particular book of the Canon, to use the language of Leo
XIII., "has God for its author." Dante saw over the door of
Hades an inscription which, translated, means : " Let him who
hopes never enter here." In like manner it may be said :
" Let him who hopes never enter the courts of Higher
Criticism."

LOVE'S WISDOM.

IF justice doomed the souls of men to hell,
There were some hope of liberty ;
But for the soul defiled in heaven to dwell,
Love knows were endless misery.

BERT MARTEL.

LACE-MAKERS OF BELGIUM.

ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM.

BY E. F. JOHNSON-BROWNE, M.A.

T happened once upon a time that a certain dam-
sel, having a fine taste in precious things and a
yearning for the lace, of Brussels, bade farewell
to her young man, who was about to depart for
that city on a holiday. And in the bidding she
begged that he would bring her back from thence a souvenir
that should remind her of the happy days of her schooling.

"What should he bring her?" cried the young man, over-
joyed at the idea of service.

But the daughter of the ages grew suddenly coy, and whis-
pered, with beautiful shyness, " Oh, anything any little thing
that Brussels is famous for " ; and thenceforward possessed her
soul in patience awaiting his return.

Now, the young man, being a very foolish youth and dull
of comprehension, pondered deeply over the words of his mis-
tress, not knowing whither they pointed ; for he could think of
nothing that the town was specially celebrated for, unless it

444

ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM.

[July,

were that esculent vegetable known to the world as Brussels
sprouts. So, in the end, it came about that the gift he brought
home to his lady love was not, as she had hoped, a gift of
Brussels lace, but a hamper of Brussels sprouts.

This, however, is not history, but is here introduced for no
other purpose than as a sort of text whereon I may hang a
little gossip about the lace-making industry of Belgium.

Lace is the most poetic of fabrics. Its praises have con-
stantly been sung in verse. If architecture has been aptly
called " Frozen Music," so lace may equally be called " Frozen
Poetry." It is essentially feminine in its beginning and its end.
Created by women, it is worn by women, and no other fabric
whatsoever lends itself so graciously to the adornment of beauty.
Many women have used the brush, the burin, and the
chisel, and some few have attained fame therewith. But, after
all, one is tempted to ask whether it is not rather with the
needle and the bobbin that they have most influenced the art
of the world. In this domain woman reigns supreme, and few
men dispute with her the use of these delicate instruments,
which so naturally become her dainty fingers. For to woman
alone is given the skill to raise the arts of embroidery and
lace-making to the dignity of those of painting and sculpture.

In the begin-
ning all lace was
real lace that is
to say, made by
hand. Afterwards
came the imita-
tions made by
machinery, with
which latter we
have nothing to
do, being to the
real but as the
crude and unsatis-
fying oleograph is
to the original
work straight from the master's hand. In the old days each lace-
maker wove her own fine fancies into the work of her hands,
and every piece of lace was, in a way, the embodiment of her
own personality. In the present day of hurry and rush pat-
terns, are duplicated many times, though occasionally, in the
calm and hush of some quiet convent, an original idea is con-

FLEMISH POINT.

1900.]

ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM.

445

FLEMISH POINT.

ceived, and wrought with loving care and tender solicitude into
a filmy tissue that becomes a thing of beauty to marvel at.

In the making of lace there are, as I suppose almost every-
body knows at any rate all ladies two methods of working :
lace made " a 1'aiguille " and lace made " aux fuseaux " ; that
is to say, wrought by the needle ; and that other which is
made with the bobbin, on a cushion, commonly called pillow

lace. With this

latter we shall deal
most, as it is the
kind mostly made
in Belgium. In
the long summer
afternoons you
may pass through
whole streets
side streets, of
course, where
there is little traf-
fic lined from
end to end with
lac e-m a k e r s at
their work ; the occupants of each house seated just outside
their doors, each with her pillow before her, plying her in-
numerable bobbins. As I am writing this I can look from my
window down a whole street full of such workers, that the
sunny warmth of the last few days has brought into view.

Watching their busy fingers, one's thoughts travel back-
wards, and the question obtrudes itself, " From what period
does this industry date?" It is a question which has presented
itself to many writers. Some have asserted that its origin is
lost in the mist of antiquity. And one might well believe it
to be so, bearing in mind some allusions made in certain Greek
and Latin authors.

But, according to researches made of later years, it is
hardly possible to doubt that before the fifteenth century lace
was not. At any rate, no document has yet been found to
prove its existence prior to that date.

It is true that in the East, the cradle of the arts, there
was made before that time a certain delicate tissue of the
nature of gauze or net, or perhaps muslin, which was used for
veils, scarfs, and such like ; but such tissue was far different
from the fabric we now know as lace.

446 ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM. [July,

It is said that the monk Reginald, who assisted at the open-
ing of the tomb of St. Cuthbert at Durham in the twelfth
century, found on the shroud "a fringe of thread of a finger's
length " depending from a band on which were represented
certain birds and beasts and trees. But this appears to have
been more of the nature of embroidery. And altogether it
may be taken for a fact that it was not until the end of the
fifteenth century that the real making olf lace, as we know it,
became a general industry.

From the examples which have come down to us from the
past we see that the first efforts in this direction, were more of
the nature of embroidery on fine muslin. The design was first
embroidered in various stitches on the cloth, and then certain
intermediate spaces were cut away. This made the sort of
lace which is now known as " points coupes." In time, as pos-
sible effects of beauty began to
glimmer in the minds of the
workers, these cut-away spaces
began to grow larger and more
frequent, until finally the em-
broidered muslin with its inter-
stices began to assume the ap-
pearance of rough lace-work.
HONITON POINT. There is a very fine and inter-

esting example of this process,
dating from the sixteenth century, in the Bonaff collection.

Presently a new method of working was introduced. In-
stead of cutting out the interspaces, a thicker cloth was used
and threads of the material were drawn, leaving only those
which were necessary to contain the embroidered design.
This method is practised in Constantinople to the present
day.

The drawing of the threads, however, required extreme care
and patience and compelled the use of a stout cloth. So, since
the human brain is ever active, and, like Oliver Twist, asking
for more, some one soon conceived the idea of embroidering
the flowers, birds, or whatever the design might be on portions
of fine muslin, which gave the effect of a solid tracery upon a
transparent tissue. And behold! the birth of lace.

The next step was reached by slow degrees. The trans-
parent muslin upon which the design was worked was made
more a.nd more transparent ; that is to say, the interspaces be-
tween the threads grew larger and larger, until the muslin

1900.] ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM. 447

became net. Thenceforth it needed but time for the beautiful
bud to become the perfect blossom.

Now, to follow the course which the art of lace-making
pursued, one must study the costumes of persons depicted by
contemporaneous painters.

And here I must ' make a remark which will probably be
somewhat startling to most readers. If you were to take by
hazard a hundred educated people of both sexes, and ask them
which sex exercised the greatest influence and gave the quick-
est impulse to the industry, ninety-nine of them would answer
the female. Well, they would be wrong! It is not to feminine
taste that the exquisite work of the seventeenth and eighteenth
:enturies is due, but rather to the vanity of men. When the
lale creature resolved to display upon his person the richest
stuffs that the looms of Flanders could provide ; when the
velvet of Genoa and the silk of Lyons, gold-embroidered and
seeded with jewels, failed to satisfy him, he turned his atten-
tion to lace, and the profuse
display he made of it set
creative brains and skilful
fingers to work with such good
will that the first rough
needle-work soon blossomed
into the fairy-like works of
art which excite our admira-
tion at the present day.

Thus much for needle lace
and its origin. We may re-
turn to the subject later on
but the object of this article

is rather to discuss the methods QLD FLEMISH, OR VALENCIENNES.

of pillow lace, an industry

which in these days finds its principal home in Belgium.

Born in Italy, more especially in Venice, the art spread
through various countries, appealing more or less to the art
workers of various nationalities. It took a strong hold of the
imaginations of the French. It took a stronger hold among
the low-lying lands of Flanders or shall we say Belgium?

A very pretty story is told of its birth, which has doubtless
more or less of truth in it.

A young fisherman of the Adriatic was engaged to be mar-
ried to the beauty of the Lagunes. She was as good as she
was pretty and worked hard at her trade of net-making. One

44-8 ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM. [July,

day she presented her lover with a new net, the work of her
own hands, which he straightway carried on board his vessel,
and set out for the fishery. The first time that he cast, this
famous net was a failure as regards fish, but instead thereof he
brought up from the bottom a superb specimen of sea-wrack,
petrified. It was so perfect and so beautiful in its ramifica-
tions that he presented it to his lady-love, as the first-fruits of
her gift.

Soon after this war broke out, and the unhappy lover, torn
from his fiancee, was sent with other sailor lads to serve his
country in IJastern seas.

The girl, overwhelmed with grief at his departure, spent her
time in contemplating the sea-wrack, which was her only love
gift, whilst her fingers worked mechanically among the threads
of her netting. By and by the thought came to her to imitate
with her fingers the pattern of the petrified weed. And after
many failures she at length succeeded, little by little, in repro-
ducing the ramifications of the beloved model which was ever
before her eyes.

The result was the first specimen of what is now known as
"la dentelle a piombini."

Pillow lace has less resemblance to embroidery than needle
lace. It approximates rather to the method of the loom and
the shuttle. The threads for making pillow lace are attached
to a pillow or cushion, round or square, and arranged in differ-
ent ways according to the country. In Belgium it is the cus-
tom to use a square pillow. The threads, having one end fixed
to this with pins, are wound upon bobbins of wood or ivory.
These bobbins are lengthened at one end into a sort of
handle, as in illustration on facing page, for the greater ease of
manipulation. They are crossed and recrossed in various plait-
ings, simple and easy enough in themselves, since tiny children
of eight or ten years old succeed in the work, but which de-
mand, nevertheless, a vast dexterity of finger.

It is by crossing, twisting, and plaiting these threads that
the worker makes the stitches, both of pattern and back-
ground, that form the tissue of pillow lace. And the rapidity
with which these stitches are made is something wonderful to
watch.

The lace-maker sits on a low stool, with the cushion before
her, the back part resting on a movable stand and the front
on her knee. Her fingers move in intricate weavings, much
as the fingers of a pianist who is performing " fireworks " on

ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM.

449

the piano, tossing
the bobbins from
one side to the
other, gathering
them and regath-
ering, with a gen-
tle clicking noise
which is far from
unpleasant in its
rhythmical mono-
tone. Every few
moments the busy
fingers stop for an
instant to place
one of the many
guiding pins into
another hole of
the perforated
pattern of polish-
ed c a r d-b o a r d
which is fastened
on the cushion,
and over which
the threads slide
easily and deftly.

For this kind of lace the design is prepared with a view to
the fabric for which it is destined. It is not the same as for
needle lace. Though the latter has more firmness, and is of
higher rank, so to speak, one must bear in mind that pillow
lace is more supple a valuable quality has a more seductive
charm, and for certain purposes, such as for veils, fichus, etc.,
is far superior to the other, and lends itself far better for the
adornment of the head and shoulders. The design, therefore,
must conform itself to this end, as in the decorative arts
each industrial work has its special utility, which must be
borne in mind by the designer who aims at true harmony.

In Belgium pillow lace is mostly made in long bands, more
or less broad, these bands being afterwards joined together by
a stitch called " raccroc," which means to hook on again.
This stitch is said to have been invented at Bayeux, in the
last century, by a workwoman named Cahanet, and by means
of it much larger pieces of lace can be made on the pillow
than was formerly the case. It consists in the making, on the
VOL. LXXI. 29

HER FINGERS MOVE IN INTRICATE WEAVINGS."

450

ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM.

[July,

BRUSSELS.

edge of each band, of a half stitch in place of a whole one.
So, when the bands are brought together, it is an easy matter
to couple the stitch with the needle. And the join, by this
method, can be so made as to be completely indistinguishable,
even when occurring in the net background.

I have already described the fuseaux, or bobbins, but it

_ ma y be wel l to add that they

are not always of the same size.
Indeed, there is much variation
in this matter, according to the
custom of the country and the
thickness of the thread they
carry. In Belgium they are
generally small and light, for
the making of fine lace such as
Valenciennes and Malines; while
in Auvergne, where the lace made is thicker and stronger, the
bobbins also are larger and heavier. It is, however, quite pos-
sible to make use of both kinds upon the same cushion, and a
skilful workwoman will use at the same time, and on the same
metier, several sizes of bobbins, according to the thickness of
the thread employed in the various stitches.

Here it may be noticed, en passant, that the name " passe-
ments," given to early specimens of Belgium pillow lace, was
so given because the industry was comprised in the corpora-
tion of " Passementiers," who alone had the right, as is men-
tioned in their statutes of April, 1663 (article 21), " de faire
toutes sortes de passements de dentelle sur 1'oreiller, aux
fuseaux, aux pingles, et a la main, d'or, d'argent, tant fin que
faux, de soie, de fil blanc et de couleur." Thus passement
and lace are precisely the same thing when speaking of pillow
lace.

Italy, Milan, and Genoa were the places where the manu-
facture of this lace first fairly
established itself ; Venice re-
maining true to her old love,
needle lace. But in a very short
time the new art spread to Bel-
gium, and took a firm hold on
the imagination and affections
of the Flemish people.

Towards the latter end of
the sixteenth century there lived BRUSSELS.

1900.] ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM. 451

in Saxony a certain Barbara, the wife of Christopher Uttmann,
a large owner of mines, who inhabited the chateau of Saint-
Annaberg. This lady having much at heart the welfare of the
miners' wives, introduced among them the art of making
pillow lace. It is told as a legend that one evening an old
woman, who had the reputation of being a witch, called upon
her and predicted that in return for her devotion to the poor,
and for teaching them this new industry, she should prosper
in her children, and should lose none of them by war or pesti-
lence, but that they should multiply till they became as numer-
ous as the bobbins on her pillow. As a matter of fact the
prediction was accomplished, for when Dame Barbara Uttmann
died, in 1575, she left no less than sixty-five children and
grandchildren.

About this time it was the custom in Spain and some
parts of Italy to make use of
silk, and threads of gold and
silver, in the making of lace ;
or, to speak more correctly, of
" guipures " by which name
is known the larger and heavier
patterned lace. But in Bel-
gium and Holland they used
neither silk nor gold nor sil- SILK GUIPURE.

ver, but only the finest linen

thread, which in some cases cost as much as from eight thousand
to ten thousand francs a pound an almost inconceivable price.
With such thread they manufactured the most beautiful linen,
and with the same thread they made the fine lace, for the
garniture of collars and cuffs, that we see in the Flemish por-
traits of the time. Little by little the designs differentiated
themselves from those of other countries, influenced no doubt
by the love of flowers, which was always a distinguishing
trait of the Dutch and Flemish. Take the craze of tulip cul-
ture by way of example. Thus, by degrees, Flanders earned
the reputation of being the principal centre in the world for
the fabrication of pillow lace.

At first it was made in a narrow band, upon the pillow.
When a larger piece than a simple bordering was required, a
" betwixt and between," or what is known technically as
" bande et passement," was brought into use, or else the half
stitch, the " raccroc."

This was the universal habit in the sixteenth century. But

452

ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM.

[July,

GUIPURE A RESEAU.

in the seventeenth larger pieces were demanded, and then
arose the question of the sub-division of work. In Italy, in
France, and in Spain this was accomplished by dividing the
design by horizontal bands which, when completed, were sewn
together. In Belgium, however, another and infinitely better
plan was conceived and employed. The design was cut into

portions, but instead of
these portions being strips,
the knife followed the out-

line of the flower or other

ornamentation, as in needle

. . . .

lace. And the work was

done in small separate por-
tions > each complete in itself,
and these were brought to-
gether by the background
of net which was worked
between.

Of course, it must be un-
derstood that in all the fine
examples of genuine lace, the net-work which is called the back-
ground was not purchased ready made, but was worked into
the fabric, even as the design itself was worked.

This ingenious mode, which allowed the work to be cut up
and distributed in as many portions as was wished, caused, in
a great measure, the vast success of the industry in Belgium.
It was possible, by working each motive separately, to succeed
more completely when the design was rich and complicated.
In this way the Flemish "guipures" marked a great advance
in bobbin work and had an enormous sale. The portraits of
Louis XIV. by Mignaud furnish a proof that, up to the death
of Mazarin, he wore continually neck-bands and collars of
Flemish pillow lace. It was not till later, when under the influ-
ence of Colbert, that he became enamoured of "point de Venise"
(needle lace) and attempted to have it reproduced in France.
During the seventeenth century they began in Belgium to
make lace with the net background. The designs and the
methods of working were precisely the same as for the "gui-
pures de Flandres " spoken of above. Strangely enough, this
lace, though made in the same fashion and in the same coun-
try, was sold under the name of " guipures de Flandres " when
the- background was worked in cross-stitch, and under that of
" English lace " when the background was of net.

1900.] ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM. 453

Many explanations have been given for this curious fact.
Certainly lace was made in England at that time; but it is
well known that England sold a great deal more than she
made. Also, it is evident that England bought lace in Belgium
which was resold in France as being of English make. One
explanation of this is as follows :

The English, such near neighbors of the Flemings, and
having with them so many and important commercial dealings,
were the first to appreciate this new departure in lace-making,
and imported a vast quantity of it. But the enormous sums
which were lavished on this article of pure luxury provoked,
as in France, an enactment of sumptuary laws. In 1662 the
English Parliament, startled at the large amounts paid to
Flanders, passed an act prohibiting the importation of lace.
The English manufacturers, frightened at losing the custom of
the court of Charles II., then invited Flemish workwomen to
come to England and organize the trade. But the attempt
proved a failure. England could not produce thread of the
necessary texture, and the lace made was therefore of inferior
quality.

Disappointed in this endeavor, the merchants next adopted
a more simple expedient. With the aid of aggregated capital
they purchased all the lace of the first quality that could be
found in the markets of Brussels, and then smuggled it into
England, reselling it as " English point lace." An idea of the
magnitude of this contraband commerce may be obtained when
we read the account of a single seizure of a lace-smuggling
vessel captured by the Marquis de Nesmond in 1678. The
cargo was composed of 744,953 aunes (the aune being 27
inches) of lace, not counting handkerchiefs, collars, fichus,
aprons, etc.

Another explanation, and perhaps a more logical one, is
that the English were the first to invent the " dentelle a
rseaux " ; but being unable to find in England a sufficiency of
workers, sent their orders to Belgium, where there was no lack
of skilled hands, and were by this means enabled to meet all
demands for " English point."

We see, then, that Belgium, seconded by English gold, be-
gan to supply the world with lace, giving to her productions a
distinctive character which has never been lost. After the
death of Louis XV. of France the manufacture of needle lace
seems to have died away to give place to the Flemish pillow
lace. We may say, then, that the eighteenth century witnessed

454

ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM.

[July,

the zenith of the art of the bobbin, while the seventeenth must
be looked upon as the apogee of the needle. At the end of
the eighteenth century pillow lace began to assume a distinct
idiosyncrasy, so to speak, of its own. Instead of being, as
heretofore, a sort of copy of needle lace, patterns were designed
specially appropriate to its nature. The series was commenced
of the beautiful fabrics known as Valenciennes, Malines,
English, Chantilly, Blonde, etc., each worked on its own lines
and forming a separate type. This classification is, of course,
incomplete. The limits of this article do not permit the de-

IDenetian point.

Valenciennes,

flfcalines.

sfine.

IRose point <3uipure.

scription of the numerous variety of types which are now pro-
duced. A short definition of those mentioned would, perhaps,
be not out of place.

Let us begin with Valenciennes. This lace did not receive
its definitive appellation until the eighteenth century. In the
time of Colbert the centre of this industry was at Quesnoy.
But the Flemish artists were always in the forefront, and to
them must be attributed the many beautiful modifications
which have from time to time been introduced into the origi-
nal method. For example, the flowers of the design became
by degrees less approximate to each other, the between spaces
being at first filled up with small clusters, to which the name
of snow'falls was given. After many experimental endeavors to

ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM. 455

find the perfect background, the classic " rseau," or net, to
which Valenciennes attached her name, became a square
stitch very regular, of an extreme transparence, but very strong.
In this lace both design and background are worked at the
same time and with the same thread. No outlining cord
accompanies the design, and this absence of relief much facili-
tates the working of it. Valenciennes bears the process of iron-
ing better than any other kind, and perhaps it is for this
precious quality that it is so much in request for the adorn-
ment of under linen. It takes its name from the town of
Valenciennes, where much was formerly made, though none is
made there nowadays. It is in Belgium that it is manufactured
at the present time. Most of the convents for the education
of the poor teach the art of making this much-sought fabric.
Along the line which extends through Poperingho, Courtrai, and
Gand the commerce of this sort of lace is most active, the fin-
est being made at Ypres.

Malines is a very delicate lace, whereof the filling-in or back-
ground is a stitch finer and lighter than that of Valenciennes.
Also the pattern itself is outlined and accentuated by a
thread. It is the most supple of all lace. After many trials to
find a suitable background, a small round stitch, very fine, has
been adopted, which is certainly the prettiest of all the stitches
made with the bobbin. The centre of the production of
Malines lace has always been the country between the towns of
Malines, Antwerp, and Louvain.

The lace of Lisle and Arras is of the same order, but much
commoner; the thread employed being thicker, and the stitch
less beautifully formed. The method of working, however, is
the same.

Chantilly is not properly speaking a Belgian lace, but it is
so well known that a word about it will not be out of place.
At first it was nothing more
than a copy, and a very poor
copy, of the Malifles and Valen-
ciennes of that time. But later
the town of Chantilly acquired
a great reputation for its speciality
of black lace. One sees in the
old Chantilly, whether white or
black, a great number of designs

portraying vases and baskets of flowers, the same class of sub-
ject appearing frequently in the pottery ware of the same town.

456 ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM.

The material employed in its manufacture was a silk thread called
" grenadine d'Alair." The twisted fibres of this Ipse in the twist-
ing some of their shininess, and for this reason many people er-
roneously believe that the lace is made of black linen thread.
The net of Chantilly is formed of a series of lozenges, crossed
above and below with a horizontal thread. This lace is natural-
ly not so effective for the purposes of the toilette as the white.
It has not what the French would call the same " clat joyeux."
Yet it suits ladies of a certain age, especially in the matter of
shawls and scarfs, and for the trimming of mantles, etc.

In Belgium black lace is made in the towns of Grammont
and Enghien, but it is easily distinguished from that made in
France, the workmanship being far less artistic.

Blonde. Certain classes of pillow lace, instead of taking
their name from the town or country where they originated,
are distinguished by the material whereof they are composed.
Such is the blonde, a type which must not be entirely omitted.
Blonde lace was at first made in silk of a pale straw color
the tint that is known as " cru " and it takes its name from its
color. In the making of it two different threads are used, one
fine, for the net background, and one thicker, very little
twisted, something like floss silk, for the flowers. The unfor-
tunate Marie Antoinette had a special taste for this lace, the
proof of this appearing on almost every page of the books of
Mme. Eloffe, her modiste. The designs she affected were of
somewhat thin quality, but we must note the fact that the
period when she made use of this type of lace was towards the
end of her reign, in the years of her trouble.

The blonde is oftenest made in the Spanish fashion ; that is
to say, with a large and heavy design, having much open space
in the background, so that it stands out well ; this being most
effective for large draped jjieces such as the mantilla.

Application. When the net background became firmly
established it was made, as we have seen, with fine stitches
falling away from the pattern. But after awhile it was found
to work more satisfactorily and cheaper to have the design
made in detached pieces by one worker, and the background
by another. The flowers were then " appliques " upon the
net. Hence to a certain quality of lace, made in this way, the
name of "application," or " appliqueV' has been given. This
quickly developed itself in a surprising way ; it was so easy to
work, and so rapidly made; and as the finest of linen thread
was used for the net, it was beautifully soft and supple. The

i goo.] ON LACE-MAKING IN BELGIUM. 457

thread, too, of which it was made, being unbleached, gave to the
lace a delicate cream color which was much prized ; so much
so that when, after various washings, the lace became whitened, it
was, and is, the custom to dip it in an infusion of tea or coffee
to bring back the desired color.

A great deal of this lace was
made in England, but a far greater
quantity in Belgium, though, wheth-
er made in Belgium or in England,
it "was all sold under the name of
" application d'Angleterre." A few
connoisseurs, wishing to show that
they were not taken in by this con-
fusion, but were " up to the ropes,"
used to speak of so many " aunes of
Flemish English " ; but this ridicu- APPLIQUIL

lous formula soon died out, and the

lace is properly known under the simple name of "application
d'Angleterre," or " English point." In proof of this we have a
letter, written in 1638, by the Due de Luynes, in which he
says : " Aujourd'hui Mme. de Luynes s'est fait apporter les
fournitures qu'elle avait choisies pour la reine et qui regardent
les dames d'honneur. Elles consistent en couvre-pieds garnis
de point d'Angleterre pour le grand lit, et en taies d'oreillers
ornees de la meme dentelle. Cette fourniture coute trente
mille livres, quoique Mme. de Luynes n'ait pas fait renouveler
les plus beaux couvre-pieds de la reine."

It seems to have been the custom for the bed furniture to
be renewed each year, and for the lady of the bedchamber to
inherit the old, by way of perquisites. In spending only thirty
thousand francs, then, Mme. de Luynes showed proof -of more
economy and discretion than some of her predecessors.

At length we come to the most modern production, the
"application de Bruxelles." About 1830 the invention of
machine-made "tulle" gave a new direction to the lace indus-
try. And as the price of the lace is much diminished by the
substitution of tulle for the true hand-made " reseau," or net,
enormous quantities are made and sold of these applications
de Bruxelles, a name which, rightly understood, means simply
"application" upon "tulle de Bruxelles."

This simplification, and the consequent diminution of price,
favor the production of much larger pieces, such as one would
never have dared to conceive previously, owing to the enor-

458

ON LACE.MAKING IN BELGIUM.

[July,

mous cost of such fabrics ; for example, the large shawls and
bridal veils. Of course the tulle has but little of the charm of
the real " reseau." Too often the stiffening employed in its
manufacture destroys all its suppleness. And though the stif-
fening can in a great measure be taken out, nevertheless the
fact remains that both design and tulle are made of cotton,
which has none of the beauty of the true thread of the tin.
Lucky, too, if the tulle is not charged with white lead, a danger-
ous and useless addition, as bad for the health of the lace-
workers as for the preservation of the lace.

Among the many sorts of lace one might almost say,
families of lace it is interesting to remark how all of each
type vary among themselves and form the purest stock, much
as the members of a large family vary in their resemblance to

themselves and their pa-
rents, and yet never so far
overstep the boundaries as
to be mistaken for mem-
bers of another family. It
is almost as if the makers
of one type of lace were
members of the same fami-
ly, and saturated the work
of their hands with their
respective personalities.
Take Valenciennes as an

BRUSSELS APPLIQUE.

example. It is made along the whole of the Belgian fron-
tier. Well, in each village between Boillant and Ypres, then
between Ypres and Courtrai, etc., a difference of execution
is very perceptible. Yet all the different variations belong to
the same family, and can hardly be mistaken for any other.
This is very curious, and opens out a wide field for specula-
tion to those who are inclined for analysis.

About machine-made lace I have nothing to say. God for-
bid that we should despise the extraordinary progress in
mechanics that the present century has witnessed, of which we
may be justly proud. But can any one believe that the machine
will ever supersede the hand ? For the sake of Art we must
hope not. If the industry of lace-making were destroyed by
the insistent rapacity of the machine, the loss to art would be
irreparable. Let the machine be ever so intricate and capable,
there is in the nature of its constitution a certain something
which is antagonistic to artistic production. The most beauti-

1900.] PRA YER. 459

ful designs may be executed, the work turned out may be so
marvellous as to defy detection even when placed side by side
with the original ; but it is mechanism ; it is not art. Art is
never present when Truth is absent, or when mere calculation
takes the place of inspiration. The human brain must guide
the working hand, or the result will be valueless.

Of course there is the matter of cheapness to be considered.
But as regards that I cannot do better than quote in conclu-
sion the words used by M. Didron in his report on the decora-
tive arts of the Exhibition of 1878 : " Le bon march n'est
jamais recommandable quand il s'agit d'objets qui ne sont pas
de premiere ncessit : il abaisse le niveau artistique. La den-
telle perdra la meilleure part de son interet, le jour ou elle
cessera d'etre prcieux at relativement rare."

BY J. O. AUSTIN.

AY I not trust, by gracious bonds of prayer,
Our souls are linked in such a wondrous wise,
That no poor plea of mine, alone, need rise
Before God's throne to sue for pardon there ;
That to award me stripes He will forbear,
Moved by some spotless saint's redeeming sighs,
By little fingers clasped and love-deep eyes
And baby-lips imploring Him somewhere ;
That in the midnight, even while I sleep,
The trembling worship of the starry sky
And murmured praises of the heaving deep
Accord with some dim cloister's vigil-cry
Of chanted orisons that upward sweep
To intercede with Him for such as I ?

460 CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN JAPAN. [July,

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN JAPAN.

FRANCIS PENMAN (Japan).

" The Japan Advertiser has it upon the best of authority that one of the
American Mission Boards is next month to withdraw from Japan its only re-
maining representative, and is to leave its work henceforward entirely in the
hands of the Japanese, who have become interested in it. ' The latter (says our
contemporary) are to have the use of the buildings and property (of no incon-
siderable value), and some pecuniary aid will continue to be granted them, but
the work itself will be practically free from foreign guidance.' "

HIS extract shows clearly the failure of Protest-
ant Christianity in this country, for it is fail-
ure and not large-hearted trust in the Japan-
ese Protestant that has caused this retreat.
There are at present independent Protestant
churches in Japan, but, in the first place, their Christianity has
become so vague that it can hardly be called Christianity at
all ; and in the second place, they are not making headway.
A Japanese journalist, who relates his experiences in the
columns of the Kirisuto tokyo Shimbun, says that he examined
the roll of one of these churches some time ago and found
that out of a total membership of 323 no less than 86 persons
were marked absent. He was informed that out of the re-
mainder 123 persons were Christian only in name, so that the
work of the church had to be carried on by a little over 100
converts ; and even out of these the average attendance at
church meetings did not exceed 77. And the last report of the
Kumiai (Independent Japanese churches Protestant, of course)
shows that the number of self-supporting churches has fallen
from 40 to 34, and, if the truth must be told, there are not
more than 24 or 25 of these that are self-supporting in reality.
Not only are the " Independent " churches thus going back-
ward in point of numbers, they are, as I have just hinted,
going woefully backward in regard to doctrine as well. I shall
give a concrete example of what I mean. The Doshisha is a
fine educational institution established by a Japanese Protest-
ant who was, I believe, a sincere and able Christian. It was
run- for a number of years as a religious establishment in con-

1900.] CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN JAPAN. 461

nection with the American Mission Board, and of course the
trustees were all Christians of good standing, and generally
clergymen. For some time -they were Christians, but changes
mental and otherwise occur rapidly in Japan, and only last
year they had progressed so far towards Agnosticism that a
breach with the American Mission Board occurred. I visited
personally some of the leaders of the movement, and they told
me that they certainly did not believe in the divinity of Christ ;
in fact, I failed to discover any one point of Christian belief
that they did believe in. And I do not blame them; for it
was evident to me that they were logically right, and acted in
good faith on the principle of private interpretation. Ten
years ago Protestantism had a very good outlook in Japan, and
many highly educated Japanese embraced it. But it took the
" advanced thinkers " among the converts only a year or two
to out-Spencer Spencer, and to-day the vernacular Protestant-
ism of Japan is getting on as best it can without any burning
or shining light whatsoever. The burning and shining lights
in other words, the leading native ecclesiastics became all of
them " philosophers," and, while still professing to be Chris-
tians, attempted to call in German and other materialism to
their aid. The English and American missionary bodies to
which they belonged naturally objected. The American Episco-
pal Church of Japan fell foul of Dr. Sugiura, a Japanese
minister (who has had, by the way, the advantage of an ex-
cellent American education), who denied the miraculous birth
of Christ. Many of the leading Japanese clergymen resigned ;
and, in another direction, the organ of the Lutheran Church
in Japan, a magazine which maintained that the Bible is a
Revelation, was discontinued because " no suitable editor could
be found who was prepared to defend such a theory." The
result of the whole affair was that a very bad impression in-
deed was made on the average educated, inquisitive, and un-
prejudiced Japanese. He could not help seeing, in the firet
place, that the Bible, with nobody to explain it authoritatively,
was exactly in the same position as the ancient Shinto re-
cords, the Kojiki and the Nihonki. Such a Japanese, writing
in one of the Tokyo magazines, spoke candidly as follows :

"Can it be said that our Christian philosophy has been
any more successful than our preaching of morality ? I trow
not. After attempting to call in German materialism to the
aid of Christianity with poor results, our philosophers fell

462 CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN JAPAN. [July,

back on the ultra-idealism of Brahmanism and Buddhism, with
the outcome that they have gradually explained away the
personality of the Christian God, reducing him to a mere
controlling force, or to a fixed law called Temmei. What
possibility is there of building a system of morality on belief
in the existency of such an entity as this? ... If we
ask what amount of real faith in Christianity there exists
in this country, the answer must be discouraging. Christians
dispute about opinions and discuss this doctrine and that, but
beneath it all, it seems to me, there is little real belief.
Christianity in coming to us has had the advantage of being
associated with a system of civilization whose merits are ac-
knowledged. It has been represented as part and parcel of
that civilization, and hence has in the past received a certain
amount of prestige that it is no longer likely to retain. The
feeling of the nation in reference to the various elements com-
posing what is called Western civilization has changed, and
hence Christianity is no longer likely to be regarded as an in-
separable part of that civilization. If things proceed thus, in
thirty years Christianity in Japan will be effaced."

To this I may add the words of the most careful student
of religious movements in this country :

" There are few churches in Japan," says this authority,
" that are not invaded by heresy and scepticism, and it would
seem that before many decades are past there will be materials
enough in this country to satisfy the mind of a Mosheim,
should the world produce another such patient chronicler of
the endless vagaries of theological speculation."

The slow progress of Christianity of all kinds in the " Meiji "
era is in striking and melancholy contrast indeed to the leaps
and bounds by which Catholicity, as introduced by St. Francii
Xavier, advanced towards the end of the sixteenth century. In
the latter instance 150,000 Japanese converts were made and
20O churches erected within the space of thirty years, and the
number of Christians afterwards reached 600,000 a number
which considerably exceeds that of the Japanese (110,000 con-
verts) who have joined all the Christian and so-called Christian
denominations during the " Meiji " era. A Catholic is some-
times inclined to wonder why Catholicity, which made such
amazing progress in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,
can hardly hold its own with Protestantism in the nineteenth.
The explanation of the phenomenon is, however, easy. The

i goo.] CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN JAPAN. 463

multitude of sects that call themselves Christian, and that are
all striving for the mastery in Japan, do infinite harm to one
another, and in this way Catholicity suffers from, say, the
mouthing of some illiterate gospel-monger who, acknowledged
by no church, is one of those unauthorized " shepherds " whom
the principle of private interpretation turns loose on the world.
I have before me as I write the translation of an article on
Christianity in Japan, which has appeared in the Sekai-no-Nihon,
and which has been evidently written by a man who got his
ideas of Christianity from faddists who placed smoking and
fornication in the same category. The writer's sympathies are
evidently altogether Christian, but, though intelligent, he does
not apparently know what Christianity means. " Our Chris-
tianity," says he, " figures only in condemning certain practices
such as smoking, drinking, improper intercourse with women,
and such things ! " And that is the idea of Christianity that
an unusually intelligent Japanese has gained after Bible socie-
ties have been so long at work in the country. The fact is,
that the loud, vulgar, uneducated, ostentatious Christianity,
that is not Christianity at all, has caused the true form of
Christianity to be to a large extent overlooked or forgotten
by the people. The " Fukuin-Domei-kai " organized, for ex-
ample, a series of meetings of Protestant Christians last year,
and at one of these a speaker spent all his time talking of the
connection between Christianity and the loss of empire. And
he showed thereby that he knew to whom he was talking, for
the great bulk of the Japanese Christians have only embraced
Christianity because of a vague idea that it is connected with
empire. At another meeting of the same kind a Mr. Matsu-
mara Kaiseki said that unless the Japanese accepted Chris-
tianity they were, " as a nation," in danger of destruction. He
did not speak to them of their individual souls, of humility, of
charity, of their future being elsewhere than in this world. He
tried, instead, to bully them into accepting Christianity by
practically threatening them with defeat by Russia ! Imagine
St. Peter trying to convert the Romans by threatening them
with the loss of their empire and the passing away of their
power !

Among the Catholics I am happy to say that there has
been no schism of this kind, and that they are working and
advancing quietly and earnestly. The following are the latest
statistics (they have not yet been published) on their position :

464

CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN JAPAN.

[July,

STATISTICS OF THE CATHOLIC MISSIONS IN JAPAN UP TO AUGUST

I, 1899.

Archbishop i

Bishops, .... 3

Missionaries (foreign), . .108

Priests (Japanese), . . 30

Catechists for the pagans, . 130

" " Christians, 150

Marianite teachers (foreign), . 36

" " (Japanese), 2

" novices " 3

Cistercian monks (foreign), . 23

Sisters (teachers) foreign, . 114

" " Japanese, . 12

Novices, " 29

Sisters, leper nurses, . . 5

Stations and districts, . . 83
Congregations, . . .251

Churches and chapels, . 116

Temporary chapels, . . 90

Seminaries for clergy, . . 2

Pupils in seminaries for clergy, 10

" " " " laity, 40

Student catechists, ... 8

Colleges for boys, . . 2

Pupils in colleges for boys, . 313

Boarding-schools for girls, . 3
Total number of

Pupils in boarding-schools for

girls, 259

Primary schools, ... 37

Pupils in primary schools

(boys) 1,239

Pupils in primary schools

(girls), . . 2,630

Children in kindergarten, . 50
Orphanages, . . . 17

Inmates of orphanages, . i,475
Industrial schools, . . 22
Pupils in industrial schools

(boys), 133

Pupils in industrial schools

(girls), . . . .234

Dispensaries, ... 14
Leper hospitals, ... 2
Inmates of leper hospitals, . 109
Hospital for aged, i

Inmates of hospital for aged, 35
Hospitals for the poor, . . 2
Inmates of hospitals for the poor, 83

Baptisms.

Adults baptized, . . . 2,022
Infants " . . . 1,600
Catholics, 53,924

The Rev. Mr. Loomis's report for the year 1898 gives the
total number of Protestants in Japan at 40,981 ; there being
37 different Protestant sects, including the most outre.

Bishop Nicolai is very hopeful of the prospects of the Greek
Church in Japan, and says that year by year 1,000 fresh names
are added to the roll of his converts. Two years ago the
number reached 953. The total number of adherents is now
24,944 ; the ordained ministers, 33 ; the evangelists, 39 ; the
assistant evangelists, 55 ; the divinity students, 32. But, in
spite of Bishop Nicolai's great qualities as a missioner, it is
much to be feared that a religion which recognizes the Czar
of Russia as its head has no chance of making any real head-
way in this country.

Whatever be the ultimate fate of Japan, from a religious
point of view, there can be no doubt but that to the earnest
and intelligent missionary it is the most interesting country in
the world. Social reformers may prove to their own satisfac-

1900.] CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN JAPAN. 465

tion that New York and London need missionaries more than
Tokyo, but that will not prevent Tokyo from remaining the
attraction for many foreign missionary bodies for a long time
to come. The Japanese have indeed exercised a strange fasci-
nation on missionaries ever since the time of St. Francis. " I
am old and worn before my time," said that great saint, writ-
ing from Japan ; " but I have one consolation, and that is to
labor among a people that are really solicitous about their
salvation."

The terrible persecutions which the Japanese Catholics
underwent until recently, and the astounding fact that they
survived them all, and that there are to-day in the neighbor-
hood of Nagaseki numerous communities of native Christians,
who have inherited the faith that was given to their fathers
by Xavier, are strong proofs that the great Spanish Jesuit did
not judge his converts wrong. Even Japanese Buddhists are
not devoid of deep religious feelings, for when the great
Hongwanji at Kioto was burned again and again, there was no
difficulty in collecting ten million yen ($5,000,000 gold) where-
with to erect a new building.

On the other hand, there is a considerable amount of self-
sufficiency and complacency about the Japanese character
which sometimes repels one, and oftener makes one laugh.
Men who have had a hopelessly poor elementary education
will think nothing of tackling botany, the Greek and Latin
languages, physiology, architecture, practical engineering, and
half a dozen subjects at once. I once met a young school-
master who was writing at the same time histories of Greece
and Rome, and who was in a hurry to finish them too, that
he might have a chance of celebrating the natural charms
of his country in deathless English verse. No ambitious Japan-
ese of education would be content for one moment with the
glory of Shakspere alone; he must needs be Shakspere, Dar-
win, Mommsen, and a few other celebrities all rolled into one
or else nothing. In the pre-Meiji days the young Japanese
was kept to some extent in his place by the code of honor
and morals known as " Bushido," but now there is nothing but
materialism, and the Japanese character has in consequence
deteriorated sadly. The greed for money which is so unpleas-
ant a feature in modern Japan, and which has considerably
decreased the annual influx of globe-trotters and tourists, is to
be found in every rank of society in the swindling innkeeper,
who charges his foreign visitor fifty per cent, too much, as
VOL. LXXI. 30

466 CHRISTIAN MISSIONS IN JAPAN. [July,

well as in the business man in the mad fits of speculation
that attack him. The Japanese school-boy, who has really so
much so very much of promise in him, is becoming more
and more demoralized, unruly, and, I fear, vicious every day.
The Japanese youth who has been educated in America, Eng-
land, or Germany comes home with a good education perhaps,
but without the exquisite manners he left home with, and
without having acquired the manners of the educated foreigner
to supply that loss. The late Dr. Toyama, one of the greatest
educationists in Japan and an M.A. of Michigan University,
said recently, although not himself a Christian :

"We are conscious that the almost total extinction of the
old spirit of chivalry is most detrimental to our highest inter-
ests and our progress. We cannot get on without a substitute
for what has been effaced by the march of events (i. e., the
moral code already referred to). I have great hopes in Chris-
tianity as a creed that is suitable to the situation in which we
find ourselves. Japan is at present in a very corrupt state ;
the merchant class are corrupt ; the nobility are corrupt. We
have no great reformer among us : no Xavier, no Savonarola,
no Wesley, no Manning, no Newman."

And I may here remark that it is a strange fact indeed
that many of the leading thinkers in Japan men like Marquis
Ito, Mr. Fukuzawa, Dr. Kato, and Drs. Inone, Motora, and
Nakajima recognize the good Christianity would do the peo-
ple, though they never seem to imagine that it would do them-
selves any good. The great publicist that I have just quoted
seemed, for example, to tremble for years on the brink of
Christianity, but he died the other day died, and made no
sign. His case is that of a large number of other distinguished
men in Japan.

Apart from this, however, the Japanese deserve credit for
their frankness in regard to religious matters. They do not
possess that quality which is possessed to such a large extent
by the average Anglo-Saxon mind of letting their minds re-
main in a state of suspense in regard to religious matters. I
have already shown how they followed the " free " principles
of Protestants to their logical termination, and found them
wanting. In all directions of religious activity they manifested
the same frankness and honesty. One of the leaders of the
Agnostic movement which carried so many out of the Prot-
estant church in this country during the last few years assured
me that numbers of his colleagues had told him that if .they

1900.] BEAUTY. 467

would ever return to Christianity it would be to the Catholic
form of it, so that they might have rest for their souls. I was
speaking, however, of the honesty of the educated Japanese in
discussing religion an honesty which is refreshing after the
grovelling sycophancy one finds in the average Indian convert,
who, when asked what religion he is, replies, as a rule, " Same
religion as master " ! Dr. Takakusu, who is peculiarly qualified
to express an opinion on religious topics, having undergone a
special training at Oxford under Professor Max Miiller and
attained such proficiency that to him was committed the task
of translating certain portions of the Buddhist scriptures into
English, says, speaking of a branch of the Protestant Church
as it appeared to him in Japan, that it is " more like a club
than a church." Modern Japanese thinkers have hitherto paid
next to no attention to Catholicity, because of their being at-
tracted altogether by the theories and systems that were preva-
lent in the Protestant countries where they were educated.

What will be the final outcome of ,'all this no one can tell.
The Japanese " thinker " may become captivated by Catholicity,
but before he does so he will have to shed a good deal of
vanity and self-sufficiency. Or a movement may arise among
the peasantry, who are the backbone of Japan a movement
which will Christianize the country. Only God can tell.

BEAUTY.

A HARBOR-LIGHT along the shore
Of Earth's abysmal vice,

To lead the wanderer within
The port of Paradise.

468 FATHER TOM'S WEDDING-GIFT. [July,

FATHER TOM'S WEDDING-GIFT.

BY AUSTIN O'MALLEY.

N a Saturday afternoon in the priest's house at
Farview, a colliery town of eastern Pennsyl-
vania, Nora Sullivan, the pastor's niece, sat in
her room rereading a bundle of love-letters. On
the writing-desk before her was a statuette of
the Madonna of Lourdes, and resting against this image was
a photograph of a young man, Walter Garvey, the mine-fore-
man of Number Six Shaft. As the girl read, now and then a
smile of pleasure would deepen the flush in her brown cheeks,
and once she bent down and shyly kissed the photograph. As
she did so the petals of a red rose she had fastened in her
hair fell about the feet of the Madonna. Then the girl held
the portrait beside the little statue, and gazed long at both,
while her lips moved as if she were praying.

Presently the spring-bell on the street door clanged, and a
minute later the fat housekeeper came puffing up the stairs.
Nora quickly locked the letters and the photograph in the
desk.

" Miss Sullivan," said the housekeeper, " the Widdy Ryan
is in th' office ablow, an' she sez-she wants to see ye a minute.
I dunno fwhat she's afther ; thim Tips doesn't think anythin'
o' botherin' their betthers." The housekeeper was a Mayo
woman herself, and Tipperary folk were little more in her
sight than " Fahr Downs," at the mention of whom she always
crossed herself.

As Nora entered the office, Mrs. Ryan was giving a final
smoothing pat to the unruly red hair above her thin, freckled
face. The woman smiled fawningly, and began to speak in a
high, unnatural voice that was intended for elegance befitting
the presence of " the priest's niece."

" Miss Sullivan," said the visitor, " I kem in to ax ye to
help a poor widdy woman ; me son Mike an' Jimmie Ahern
was dischahrged frum Number Six be the foreman, Misther
Gahrvey." Her voice now grew earnest and natural. " Mike
is the on'y wan I has in the wurruld to bring in a pinny to
me, an' I'll stahrve God betune huz an' harrum ! if he has n't

1900.] FA THER TOM' s WEDDING GIFT. 469

the work. Won't ye, fur the love o' the Blessed Mother, ax
Misther Gahrvey to give 'im back his job?"

Nora blushed at the mention of Garvey's name ; she felt
embarrassed when she thought of the possible motives for
seeking her aid Mrs. Ryan might have.

" I '11 talk to Father Sullivan about the case," said the girl
hurriedly, " and I 'm sure he '11 speak to Mr. Garvey for you."
Then she dismissed Mrs. Ryan.

During the afternoon old Father Tarn Sullivan had been
hearing confessions in the church. When he came in to his
supper, after the Angelus bell rang, Nora told him of Mrs.
Ryan's request ; and as he was smoking on the porch before
going back to the confessional, Walter Garvey happened to
come along the street in a buggy. The priest called him in
and asked him to take back Ryan.

" Why, father," said Garvey, " I can't do anything with
that fellow. He and Ahern belong to those cutthroat ' Mollie
Maguires.' Besides, I caught them smoking in an old breast
that 's often full of fire-damp."

"God save us!" cried Father Tom in horror. " Smokin'
in an old breast where there's fire-damp, and the mine full of
fahthers of families! Why didn't you break their nicks, the
villains? "

" I nearly did," Garvey answered with a quiet smile. " At
least, I jarred Ryan pretty severely. Ahern ran away as soon
as he saw me."

The young foreman had tied his horse before the gate, and
he came to sit on the porch with Father Tom, who dropped
the Ryan question. Nora came out, and after a few minutes
the priest left the young man with her and went back to the
church to hear confessions again.

It had grown dark, and when Father Tom entered the con-
fessional he lit a lamp and read Compline while a penitent
waited patiently in each side compartment of the " box."
When he closed his breviary and slid open the door over a
lattice on the side of the middle box, there was a shuffling of
feet without as the two lines of tnen and women moved up
and knelt on the floor closer to the confessional.

A woman left the grill, and a slate-picker, " a cracker-boy,"
with coal dust rings about his eyes, tried to sneak in ahead of
his turn. The youngster was promptly seized by a crone who
knelt, crouched on her heels, in the line, and she fiercely
whispered :

47o FATHER TOM'S WEDDING-GIFT. [July,

" Yarra, have ye no manners a' tall, a' tall ? Go back there
fwkere ye belong, bad cess to ye, or I '11 ate ye, ye young
limb o' the divil ! Ah thin, God forgive me fur talkin' this
way, an* me in the church ! "

The lad retired crestfallen, and the old woman was begin-
ning her rosary again in sighing, half-audible Gaelic when
Father Tom pushed aside the curtain before him and leaned
out. He cried wrathfully :

"Will ye hold your tongues! Don't ye know where ye
ahre?"

A deep, awed silence followed the priest's rebuke, and the
whispering within the confessional began once more.

When the confessor next shifted to an alternate door and
had given the customary blessing without looking at the peni-
tent, a man's voice, troubled and cautious, came through the
grating :

"Father, I want to talk about somethin' very impor'ant."

Father Tom looked through the lattice and he saw Ahern,
that Garvey had spoken of. The miner's face was pallid, and
the sweat hung in blobs on his forehead under a shock of hair
stained yellow by the oil of a leaky hat-lamp. A shadow of
the lattice-bars crossed under his scared, watery eyes, and half
hid a blue tattooing of scars made by falling coal. He shivered
continually, and kept moistening his lips and swallowing ner-
vously.

" Ye have something important to tell me, have ye ? " said
Father Tom. "Well, Jimmie Ahern, I have something im-
portant to tell you, too : I hear you joined the Mollies lately,
and sorra the bit o' absolution you '11 get from me till you
promise to leave them ; an' that 's flat."

Ahern's blunt nails scratched the wood as he grasped the
lattice and whined in fear :

" I dassent leave them, father ; an* I 'm afeared they '11 kill
me anyhow."

"Kill ye! Arrah, why? What did ye do?" asked Father
Tom.

"It ain't what I done it's what I ain't got sand enough to
do, they '11 kill me fur. Ye see, sir, me an' an' well, this is
tol* in confession an' ye can't give it away to nobody me an*
me butty was fired out o' our job be the foreman fur smokin' in
an' ol* drift where the 's fire-damp. When he kem on huz sud-
din I got away, but he jolted me butty on the jaw bad fur
riskin' the lives o' the other min, he sez."

1900.] FATHER TOM'S WEDDING-GIFT. 471

Ahern was now whispering quickly and evenly :

" Me an' me butty belongs to the Mollies, an' at the nixt
meetin' after we got the sack we tol* our Body-Master how we
was trun out. He an' the other fellehs sez to huz, 'The order 's
got to make a' nexample o' that foreman.' Thin they voted
to shoot the foreman.

" We chucked dice to find who 'd do the job, an' me an'
me butty got stuck. I think thim dice was loaded, but we
couldn't crawl out o* it."

Ahern paused a moment ; he crouched nearer the grating,
and now, weeping like a scared child, he whispered :

" What '11 I do ? What '11 I do ? I 'm afeared to kill 'im,
an' I 'm afeared not to kill 'im. Fur four nights now as soon
as I close me eyes whin I 'm sober I seen his head wid a big
red hole in the forehead of it, till I 'm half crazy. What '11 I
do, father?"

" That 's an aisy question, you omaduan ye '11 do nothing
a' tall ! That 's what ye '11 do," cried Father Tom roughly.
Then he added kindly :

" Thank God, Jimmie avic t ye stopped before it was too late."

" That 's the wors' of it," said Ahern ; " me butty ain't
stoppin'. He 's down the road this minute waitin' fur the man
we was told to shoot. Mike I may as well tell ye the hull
business Mike Ryan an' me was to shoot Walter Garvey.
We seen 'im gettin' out o' his buggy an' goin* into yer house
this evenin', an' Mike, he sez to me, * We '11 do 'im to-night.
I'll go down,' sez he, 'to the bushes near his house, an' you
go roun' be the back road behin' Number Six culm-dump, so
we won't be seen together. We '11 get 'im at the gate o' his
yard, whin he 's op'nin' it to let in his horse to the barn.'

" I sez to him, ' Mike, mebbe we 'd get the wrong man in
the dark.'

" ' How kin we? ' sez he. ' Who 'd be puttin' a horse t'rough
his gate to-night but himsel'? Don't we see him out himsel'
with the horse?' Thin Mike started down the road an' lef
me.

"Whin I seen I was up against the thing I got scared
white, an' I jus' had to talk to some one about it."

Father Tom was now alarmed. He said :

" Of course you '11 give me leave to act outside the confes-
sional to prevint this murder."

Ahern startled the priest by flatly refusing to give any such
permission :

47 2 FATHER TOM'S WEDDING-GIFT. [July,

" Father, I dassent they 'd folly me to hell to kill me if I
did."

"But, Jimmie, Mr. Gahrvey an' I will see that you ahre
protected. We '11 pay your expinses if you want to go away
from the town. You ahren't scoundhrel enough to let the man
be murdered because you yourself 'd run a little risk, ahre
ye?"

The miner repeated in abject terror :

" I can't an' I won't let ye give it away, father; they'd
cut the heart ,out o* me inside a week."

"Thin why did ye come to confession a' tall?" urged
Father Tom argumentatively. " It '11 do ye no good ; I can't
give ye absolution if ye ahre to let this murder happen."

" It ain't absolootion I want," whispered Ahern, gasping.
" I jus' had to talk to some one, an' this is the on'y way I
could talk."

" Do you mean to say you '11 shut my mouth here, and let
the man go to his death? Arrah, don't do that, Jimmie,"
pleaded the old priest.

All through a bitter half-hour Father Tom struggled with
the coward for the life of Garvey. Promises, tears, spiritual
threats, could not overcome Ahern's terror. It never occurred
to the priest even as a temptation to break the seal of this
rascal's confession, and Ahern, with his Irish religious experi-
ence, had not the slightest fear that the priest would divulge
the confession no matter what happened.

Father Tom finally bowed his head to think out some new
argument to bring against the miner's fear ; but Ahern, now
eager to escape the priest's importunity, suddenly arose, slipped
out of the confessional, and hurriedly left the church. The
old man's wrinkled face was gray and drawn as he sat there
in the narrow confessional with his chin upon his breast. His
utter inability to save the young foreman's life made him
physically sick.

He presently left the confessional, and mechanically dis-
missed the few penitents remaining :

" Let ye come before Mass to-morrow, an' I '11 hear ye. I
can hear no more confessions to-night."

The shock of Ahern's story was so deep that Father Tom
did not yet think of prayer. He went out of the church un-
steadily with the vague intention of seeing whether Garvey was
still seated upon the rectory porch.

Garvey's horse stood patiently at the gate, and Garvey

1900.] FATHER TOM'S WEDDING-GIFT. 473

himself was upon the porch with Nora. The girl was laugh-
ing merrily at some remark the young man had made as
Father Tom passed into the house silently. The priest was
afraid to speak to Garvey, and the old man pretended he did
not see the visitor.

Nora was alarmed at what she deemed an expression of
dislike for Garvey. She asked the young man : " I wonder if
he suspects we 're we 're engaged ? "

He answered : " I do n't think so, but I intend to tell him
to-night."

About a quarter of an hour later, at Garvey's request, Nora
went up to Father Tom's study to ask him to come down to
the porch.

When she reached her uncle's room the door was wide
open, and Father Tom was kneeling upon the floor, his side-
face toward her; but he was unconscious of her presence. He
was gazing toward a large iron crucifix on the wall ; his face
was ghastly, his mouth was open, and his clasped hands were
shaking violently. He was muttering:

" By your agony in the Gahrdin, save 'im ! By your three
hours on the Cross, save 'im ! "

Nora ran over to him, flung herself upon her knees beside
him, and instinctively put her arms about him to protect him
from some unseen danger, as if the old man were a mere child.

" Uncle, uncle, what's the matter?"

He started violently as he became conscious of her pres-
ence.

''Eh, eh? Girleen, what ahre ye doin' here?" he asked,
dazed.

" Uncle, your face ; I I thought you were dying."

He arose and sat down wearily. He smiled feebly then
he suddenly affected anger.

" Well, well ! can't a man say his prayers without havin' all
the women in the house keenin' over 'im ? "

He had never spoken a cross word to her before, and now
she instantly understood that he was merely evading an ex-
planation of his condition. She affected to forget the scene
just past, and she said :

" Uncle, Mr. Garvey wants to see you on the porch."

"Gahrvey!" cried Father Tom, with an excitement that
sounded to Nora like real anger. The old priest stood up.

" I can't see Mr. Gahrvey to-night ; I I must look over
my sermon for to-morrow."

474 FATHER TOM'S WEDDING-GIFT. [July,

" But, uncle, it won't take long it 's important, too."

" I tell you, girl, I can't see him that 's all."

" Yes ; but, uncle dear " she went over to him and took
his arm with a coaxing, blushing smile " Walter wants to talk
to you about me. We 're en engaged, and "

11 Great God ! What ? Engaged to Gahrvey ! " cried Father
Tom violently before he could command himself.

Nora started back and her face blanched.

"Yes, sir," she said quietly. "Why should I not? What
objection have you to him ? "

The old priest sat down and put his hands before his face
He stretched his hand out to her, without looking at her.

" Come here, little one," he said.

She knelt quickly at his knee and he drew her to him.

" There 's nothing against Gahrvey, asthore nothing at all.
I 'm just nervous to-night something is botherin' me. Girleen,
ye 're all I have in the wurruld : mebbe that had something to
do with my fussin'. Leave me now for awhile, an' I '11 be
down soon."

When she left the room he closed the door. He fell upon
his knees again, and began his litany as before in front of the
iron crucifix :

" Save the boy ! (Nora, mavournin, 'tis a black night for
you ; God . an' his blessed Mother help you ! ) Save the boy !
Christ the Son, by your Mother's sorrow, save the. boy!"

Suddenly he started, and his pallid face changed as if he
had found a way out of the darkness. He arose quickly and
exchanged his soutane for a coat. He put his oil-stocks and
ritual into his pocket, and he took up a silver crucifix from
the table, kissed it, and put it also into his pocket. Then he
made the sign of the cross, and immediately started down-
stairs.

When he came out on the porch Garvey arose. Father
Tom's voice was steady and very gentle as he grasped the
young man's hand and said :

" Walter, lad, Nora told me what ye want to say. I Ve
known you since ye were born, and ye may have her ; but take
good care of her she 's a fine gerl a fine gerl. Now we '11
have no more words about the affair not just this minute, at
any rate. I have a sick-call to make, and as long as your
horse is here I '11 use him, with your leave. It '11 not take
long.;'

"Certainly, sir," Garvey said. "I "

1900.] FATHER TOM'S WEDDING-GIFT. 475

" Never mind now, Walter. Another time. God bless ye
both." And Father Tom abruptly went out and drove off.

He started in the direction of Garvey's house. On the
road he stopped at a miner's cabin where he had during the
preceding day given the last sacraments to a boy that was
fatally hurt by a fall of coal. The priest came out hurriedly
after a few minutes, and drove on again toward Garvey's house.
He passed the Number Six culm-dump, which had been burn-
ing for years, enkindled by a bolt of lightning. Blue flames
flickered and glided along the glowing mass, and the black hill
of coal-refuse rose up against the dim sky monstrously. The
heat came out to the road, but the horse was accustomed to
this burning mound, and Father Tom was unconscious of it.
The pumping engine at the shaft gave long, slow sighs at
regular intervals, and the carriage wheels crunched the culm
road ; beyond that the night was soundless.

At last the horse stopped before the gate of Garvey's
garden. In the darkness Father Tom looked upward, and he
made the sign of the cross once more. He then stepped out
upon the road and began steadily to feel for the latch upon
the gate.

At that instant from the bushes across the road a pistol-
flame spurted, and the old man fell sidewise heavily.

The horse leaped violently, overturned the buggy, and
dashed down the road, tearing itself free.

Father Tom spoke as if he were sinking to sleep:

" Fahther, forgive thim they know they know not "

After a few moments, when all was still, and when the
shock of fear had passed far enough to let her act, Garvey's
mother went out to the gate, holding a lantern high with quak-
ing, outstretched arm. Upon the coal-dust of the road, his left
hand clutching the silver crucifix, his white face upturned and
very still, she found Father Tom, dead.

She knelt down, and with a flood of tears she said :

" Thanks be to God an' his blessed Mother ! I I mane,
it 's sorry I am, Fahther Tom dear, but I thought it was me
own boy ! "

476 A SCION OF OLD SPAIN. [J u 'y.

A SCION OF OLD SPAIN.

BY EDITH MARTIN SMITH.

'ELL you a story of something that will be in ac-
cord with this perfect moonlit evening? With
all my heart ; but what shall it be ? As you say,
this is not a fitting night for tales of adven-
ture and hair-breadth escape ; of death and
danger and gruesome horrors, although I learned of all these
latter in plenty during my wanderings through Arizona and
New Mexico. It is a land of danger and mystery, this great,
brooding South-west, with its pathless mountains and awful
wastes of desert, where the sun glares on a naked soil and
where the angry winds find not even a blade of grass with
which to form a sound. Only the shadow of an occasional
giant cactus diversifies these trackless plains, whose burning
sands are forming continual shifting mounds over the graves of
an unknown and unnumbered lost. But we will not dwell upon
these tragedies ; such narratives are better suited to winter
nights when we sit around a cheerful fire and listen to the
winds soughing and howling outside. This soft and gentle
moon claims a kindred story ; she is so generous in her glory,
lending beauty to objects which would be commonplace, and
ofttimes hideous, if viewed in the garish light of day, and her
radiance to-night reminds me of those wonderful moonlit
evenings in New Mexico where the atmosphere is so clear that
the heavens display a grandeur never dreamed of in our
Eastern skies. But what shall my story be ?

Ah, I have it ; I will tell you of Don Sisto ! That is what
we always called him, although he had such a string of names
that the recital of them would be too great a tax upon your
memories and mine ; I never could recall more than six or
eight of them at a time, and then not in their proper sequence.
You see he was a grandee of pure Castilian descent, although
his people had lived for three generations in the New World.
He dropped a good deal of his ancestral dignity when he
came to San Vincente to live, and his neighbors and acquain-
tances, speedily curtailed the rest. Names do not count for
much in the West ; brevity is the most desirable feature, and

IQOO.]

A SCION OF OLD SPAIN.

477

if your forefathers
have handed down
to you a surname of
more than two syl.
lables you will very
likely awake some
fine morning, be-
fore you have been
many months a resi-
dent of the frontier,
to find it consider-
a b 1 y eliminated
either by the local
press or the leading
citizens. This is
where the Smiths,
Joneses, and
Browns have the
advantage ; they
are permitted to re-
tain their baptismal
appellations unmu-
tilated for life
unless they should
find it convenient
to adopt an alias.

But Don Sisto ? Never shall I forget him ! He was the
grandest specimen of manhood that I have ever looked upon.
Tall, of magnificent physique, and just the proper weight for a
man of his years, he must have been nearly sixty when I first
met him. I like a certain amount of avoirdupois in people
who have passed middle life ; otherwise, like Cassius, they are
apt to have " a lean and hungry look " that breeds suspicion.

He wore a long, iron gray beard, and his thick, wavy hair
was also plentifully sprinkled with gray, but it was the man's
air of nobility and proud distinction that won my heart. After
I learned his history he seemed to me like some magnificent
bronze statue of a defiant god writhing under a punishment
of which he would give no sign. Not that there was anything
rebellious in the soul of Don Sisto ; on the contrary, a more
devout and edifying Catholic I have never known. It was on
a festival day in the quaint old Mexican church that I first
saw him, the feast of Nuestra Sefiora de Guadalupe, who is

DON SISTO.

478 A SCION OF OLD SPAIN. [July,

patroness of at least half the Mexican faithful, and whose
fiesta, in consequence, is celebrated with a pomp that, to the
uninitiated, is startling. I had been practising medicine about
three months in San Vincente and had grown accustomed to
seeing the tired, olive-skinned mothers tell the beads with un-
varying devotion as they sat in patient stillness on the floor,
pausing occasionally in their prayers to lay a restraining hand
upon the cunning brown babies that played in contented silence
at their feet. These dark-eyed cherubs ask but little in the
way of entertainment. I have seen them amuse themselves for
an hour with the fringe of their mothers' mantillas. Imagine
one of our spoiled darlings in such a position ! There are
benches in the church for such as can afford to be pew-holders,
but I have questioned whether they were put there in defer-
ence to American custom or as a mode of expiation for sin by
means of bodily torture. Any one who had experienced them
would incline to the latter opinion. The Mexican seflores, un-
less very old, rarely seat themselves during the church services;
hence when I caught my first glimpse of Don Sisto, he was
leaning against a pillar in so picturesque a holiday garb that
he made a tableau nc3t easily forgotten.

His trousers were of a bluish gray cloth, bound down the
seams with black velvet ; of coat and vest he was guiltless,
although the day was very cold ; his white linen shirt, some-
thing in the nature of a blouse, was encircled at the waist with
a brilliant silk sash, and his only wrap consisted of an unusual-
ly handsome Mexican blanket, a serape of bright scarlet, which
he wore in the style of a Roman toga. His embroidered
sombrero, that inseparable adjunct to the toilet of a true-born
Mexicano, lay on the floor beside him.

In a congregation whose members attract attention only
by their tawdry finery or extreme poverty, it is little wonder
that Don Sisto's patrician appearance set him apart from the
common herd.

I determined to make his acquaintance, but upon inquiry
I learned that this would be a matter of some difficulty ; he
was proud with the hauteur of old Spain, and he had an un-
concealed and emphatic dislike for Americans. As scraps of
the don's history reached my ears my desire to meet him in-
creased, and it was finally gratified, although the circumstances
that brought it about were rather pathetic. A patient of mine,
a bright little girl of eight joyous summers, was ill with the
small pox, which became quite epidemic among the Mexicans

i goo.] A SCION OF OLD SPAIN. 479

of San Vincente that winter. The child's life could have been
saved had I been called in time, but it is impossible to make
an ignorant class of people observe the simplest laws of pre-
vention and sanitation, and poor young Dolores paid with her
life the penalty of her parents' prejudice. Don Sisto was her
godfather, and it was through his influence that a doctor was
summoned at all. We met at the dying child's bedside and
our acquaintance ripened from that hour. Perhaps my open
admiration for the old seftor, and my deference to his some-

" HIS VINE-COVERED CASA WAS ERECTED ON THE PLAN OF MOST MEXICAN HOUSES."

what antiquated views, did much to gain me his good graces ;
but it was not until I had known him for many months that
he ever alluded to his past life. Even then I never heard him
utter a complaint. He had been a great ranchero down in old
Mexico, where his establishment was managed on a scale of
feudal splendor; it was not far from Queretaro, one of the
most picturesque and interesting cities in that country of
quaintly beautiful towns. His hacienda was as famous for its
hospitality as his wife was noted throughout the land for her
great beauty. Truly fortune had smiled upon Don Sisto !

But Queretaro was then, as it is still, the heart and centre
of the Imperial party, and Don Sisto was an ardent Royalist.
It was at his house that some of their most important political
schemes were planned, and when all failed and poor Maximil-
ian's ephemeral empire was shattered for ever, it seemed noth-

480 A SCION OF OLD SPAIN. [July,

ing short of a miracle that a man of Don Sisto's importance
should have escaped with his life. The wheel of fortune had
begun, however, to turn against him, and after the tragic and
untimely end of Maximilian, that weak but well-intentioned
prince, many of the Royalists were imprisoned and their
property confiscated. Don Sisto was among the number.
During the months that he was immured in the damp, grim
fortress that was used for the incarceration of political offenders
a prison that realized many of the horrors of the middle
ages a terrible fever swept Queretaro. The doctors called it
by an infinite variety of Latin and Spanish names, and while
they argued and disputed about its origin and method of treat-
ment, Death the Victor was reaping a rich harvest. The dis-
ease threatened to become a plague when, fortunately for the
city, two English physicians came upon the scene, and finding
that it was a malignant _fever, the natural result of their awful
non-sanitary regulations, they succeeded, with the help of some
younger physicians who were not too prejudiced to be willing
to learn and render what assistance lay in their power, in
stamping out the scourge. Don Sisto's wife, the beautiful
Dona Maria, had moved with her three children into the city
in order to use all her influence towards obtaining her hus-
band's release. She was successful, but alas ! at what cost.
After four months of imprisonment Don Sisto came forth from
his gloomy quarters to find that, instead of three pairs of
chubby arms awaiting to embrace him, three laughing baby
faces upturned for the paternal kiss, there were three small
graves in the city cemetery beside which his wife, a wreck of
her former joyous self, spent the weary days in weeping and
prayer. She did not long survive her children ; the mother-
heart within her broke when they laid her baby, a charming
boy of three years the dimpled, rosy miniature of his father
in his tiny coffin, and very soon a larger mound appeared by
the side of the other little graves, and Don Sisto was left
alone. He gathered the shattered remnants of his fortune and
turned his back for ever upon the home of his fathers, which
had used him so cruelly. Like the patriarch of the Bible, he
found himself reduced in a day from affluence to the extrem-
est misery ; but at least he would go to a new country, where
none should know his history and taunt or pity him in his
sorrows. Had Job lived in this progressive age he would
probably have done the same thing, for of all the subtle in-
ventions of the devil the commiseration of Baldad the Suhite,

1900.] A SCION OF OLD SPAIN. 481

Eliphaz, and So-
phar, his friends,
was certainly the
most painful and
exasperating.

After long and
dangerous wan-
derings Don Sisto
drifted to San
Vincente, a small
Mexican village
o f low-r o o f e d
adobes, goat-
yards, fruit or-
chards, and beau-
tiful views, situ-
ated in southern
New Mexico, to
which in later
years an Ameri-
can town has
gradually attach-
ed itself. Silver-
ton, as it is called
on the map, began
life as a mining
camp, and for years had the appearance of some unsightly ex-
crescence on the face of nature; now it is a city of magnificent
distances and striking architectural contrasts, of palatial homes,
and two-roomed cottages, municipal in everything but population,
but withal a city whose tiny stream of life glitters with the
evanescent bubbles of joy and darkles with the shifting shoals
of misery and despair in the same proportion as the broader
and more turbulent currents of metropolitan existence.

The southernmost house on the southernmost hill of San
Vincente is Don Sisto's, and there he has lived in self-sought
obscurity for more than twenty years. His widowed sister
joined him after a time, and the two exist in a little world of
their own. I heard that he was teaching a class of small
Mexican boys, and I had frequently seen him leading his mis-
chievous muchachos to early Mass in much the manner that
one would drive a flock of troublesome lambs to the shambles.
He was very fond of children, poor, bereaved soul! Armed
VOL. LXXI. 31

CATHOLIC CHURCH AT SILVERTON.

482 A SCION OF OLD SPAIN. [July,

with a meagre knowledge of Spanish and a laudable desire to
acquire facility in that musical tongue, which was very neces-
sary in my practice as a physician, i bearded the Douglas in
his hall and begged him to take me, too, as a scholar. He
was reluctant to do so at first, but at length he yielded to my
entreaties, and those hours spent at Don Sisto's grew to be
the happiest and most interesting part of my three years' resi-
dence in Siiverton. I think he became fond of me also, and
he acknowledged that it was a pleasure to converse once more
with a man of education and a gentleman. High praise from
Don Sisto ; but as all his neighbors were composed of the
most illiterate class of Mexicans, the compliment was less
overwhelming than it sounds. He did not speak English,
although he understood it tolerably well, and when I listened
to him conversing in the stately periods and musical, liquid
accents of Castile I quite appreciated the force of the saying,
that one should speak Spanish to one's God and English to
the devil.

Don Sisto, 'they told me, had been looked upon as a rich
man when he first came to San Vincente wealth being always
relative but his herd of cattle grew gradually smaller, owing
to mismanagement, I daresay, and unpropitious seasons, until
it was finally replaced by a flock of goats, and at last, misfor-
tune still pursuing him, the noble old don was forced to eke
out his slender income by manual labor. How restlessly must
those haughty ancestors have turned in their narrow graves at
the thought of this scion of old Spain earning his bread by
the sweat of his brow. Years ago, when a careless, light-
hearted nino, handsome even then as a Greek god, he had
watched the peons on his grandfather's vast estate as they
wove the bright-hued blankets that were sold for large sums
in the neighboring cities ; in a childish spirit of emulation he
learned to weave them too, and now, such an iconoclast is
Time, those lessons stood him in good stead. His splendid
handiwork was always in demand among the tourists and
Americans of Siiverton, and blanket-weaving became his chief
source of revenue.

His vine-covered casa was erected on the plan of most
Mexican houses, but in place of the hollow square and patio,
the fourth side of the square had been left unbuilt, so that
the Southern view was unimpeded. A magnificent vista it was,
stretching far away across bare, rugged mountains whose dis-
tant range showed a sharply defined cleft through which the

i goo.] A SCION OF OLD SPAIN. 483

fleecy peaks of " Las Tres Hermanas " were outlined against
the eternal blue of the New Mexican skies. The old sefior
would sit for hours in silence gazing at the unchanging land-
scape of mesa and mountain, and smoking endless cigarettes,
which he rolled and lighted with all the dexterity of his race,
Who shall say what these thoughts were? Melancholy beyond
doubt, as he dwelt upon all he had lost ; resigned, perchance,
as he realized all that they, his loved ones, had gained.

There was no attempt at gardening or ornamentation in
his modest grounds. When one has suffered as Don Sisto had
done the beauty of life loses much of its attraction. His

THE DOVE-COTES OF LA CASA.

doves, tender white creatures that fluttered and cooed about
his head or perched upon his shoulders, were his chief care
and delight ; he knew them all by name, and these soft, downy
companions seemed to fill each its own place in his empty
heart.

He was an oracle among his affectionate, simple-minded
countrymen, who reverenced him as they did the good padre,
and I think any one of them would have gladly laid down his
or her life for Don Sisto. On the whole he was happy with
the happiness not of fulfilled but of surrendered hopes. He

484 A SCION OF OLD SPAIN. [July,

told me as much in one of his rare moments of confidence.
It is not human nature to dwell for ever in the past, and as
the memory of his old existence faded away the bitterness of
recollection died with it. Having outlived life's tragedy, he
was in a better position to enjoy its comedy the two ingredi-
ents are pretty evenly balanced, and Don Sisto had a keen
sense of humor. He was a clever observer of the vagaries of
American politics, and kept himself well posted in all that was
transpiring in our country as well as in her sister Republic.
So scathing and acute were his criticisms that I often thought
him fortunate in having chosen for his adopted land one that
tolerated such freedom of speech and opinion.

I have told you how he despised Americans, gringoes, as
he contemptuously called us ; I think it was principally be-
cause aristocracy did not obtain in his out-of-the-way corner of
the West. Had he been thrown with that enviable class of
society which is just beginning to astonish itself, as well as the
public, with recently grafted family trees whose lofty limbs
reach out to dead generations of kings, the don might have
modified the severity of his judgment. No puedo decir, as he
would himself exclaim with a characteristic shrug of the
shoulders. To me he was always courtesy itself a perfect
type of the Spanish caballero. Mexicans are not held in very
high regard by the people of Silverton, and my openly ex-
pressed admiration probably gratified the don's family pride.
I had never known him to mingle with our citizens but on
one occasion during my residence in Silverton, and that was a
certain Fourth of July. The mayor of the town had spared
no effort to secure what was considered on the frontier a
fitting demonstration of " the day we celebrate." The patriotic
buntings and enlivening fire-crackers aroused Don Sisto's long
dormant curiosity, and he announced to me during my lesson
the previous evening that he was going to witness what we
Americanos called a celebration.

The programme consisted chiefly of racing interspersed
with bursts of military music from the adjacent army post.
There was burro racing, with a purse for the slowest donkey;
this for the small boy. Bag races, rock-drilling contests for
the mining element, cowboy exhibits of untrained, bucking
bronchos, which frightened animals insisted upon pitching into
the grand stand and scaring the ladies and dark-eyed seftoritas
half to death, and so on ad. infinitum ; for all of these exciting
features are more interesting to witness than to describe. Don

i poo.] A SCION OF, OLD SPAIN. 485

Sisto, attired in his fete day garb, remained throughout the
entire performance. He wore magnificent leather calzones,
heavily embroidered in silver; these were a relic of past glory,
and their beauty filled the soul of every cowboy in town with
despairing envy, for not a man of them could boast of such
old-world grandeur. He speedily unbent to the graciousness
and good humor of the crowd, and later in the day I saw him
in the office of Silverton's main hostelry surrounded by an ad-
miring circle of cowboys and imbibing mint julep with evident
relish. The don's haughty spirit was warming to his American
neighbors as it warmed still later to the genial American
cocktail, and it was this insinuating beverage, I am told, that
accounted for the seflor reaching home that evening with a
more unsteady gait and less gloomy frame of mind than was
his wont. But this report was probably false ; even in the Wild
West one occasionally hears rumors that are untrue ! The
following winter I left Silverton to accept my present position
in the Hopkins Hospital. Don Sisto and I parted with deep
and mutual regret, and I feel that the fatherly embrace and
blessing which he gave me when we said good-by has shed a
benediction upon my after-life. I write to my old friend every
month and once in a great while I receive a reply written in
his fine chirography, which is beginning now to show the
tremulousness of age, and I feel that before we can meet
again he will have ' crossed the bar.'

This is all I have to tell, and you see it is not much of
a story ; the exciting part of the don's career, and it was
thrilling enough we may be assured, had been lived and for-
gotten before I knew him. No honored place does his name
hold upon the scroll of his country's fame ; no superfluous and
hyperbolic obituary will be written at his death, and yet I
think, beyond question or doubt, that when the Recording
Angel opens his Book on the last dread day there will be one
page telling of a man who was ever patient in affliction and un-
complaining amid the trivial, vexatious worries of commonplace
life ; who bore with courage his heavy crosses, and remained
throughout it all true to God, to his neighbor, and to himself.
And at the top of this page will be written the name of my
grand old friend Don Sisto!

486 A SONG OF THE SUMMER. [July.

SONG OF THE SUMMED.

e)un ar(d shov?er, shadow and sl]ine;
Breath of the rqeadoW and scent of th,e vine :

1 he fields neW soWq, and the grass neW groWn,
^nd oVer the h,ills h,e comes, alone!

Straight \\\s form as a sapling sheer;
Lfight his tread as the gracile deer ;

jlis tresses fair as the tasselled corn ;
*His broW as bright as the blush of JMorn;

rjis eyes as blue as t\\e lakes, that lie
<And smile in the gleam of the cloudless sky!

<And lo the Winter is all forgot
With its Wrack and its ruin, it mattereth not!
por the e)un smiles clear through the sobbing rain,
the ^un^mer the e)ummer hath, come again !

EDWARD F. GARESCHE.

OLIVER CROMWELL.

CROMWELL AND LIBERTY.

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

'OMEBODY purporting to quote Cromwell repre-
sents him as declaring that he would have the
Englishman feared all over Europe as the
Roman citizen had been feared in the days of
Roman greatness. This sentiment, so flattering
to national pride, has placed the Protector on the highest
pedestal ; he is the Jove of the English pantheon. He is to
be praised for everything. His crimes are acts of profound
policy, his hypocrisy, blasphemy, cruelty are the unavoidable
resources of a position of unexampled danger and responsi-

488 CROMWELL AND LIBERTY. [July,

bility. It is an invidious task in this hour when the English-
speaking world has decreed his apotheosis to examine the
claims of the new divinity to its worship. I do not intend to
say anything about Ireland. I am aware his dealings with
that unfortunate country have found advocates from the Tory
Clarendon to Mr. Froude. There is hardly a magazine writer
who does not tell us that Cromwell's was the only method to
establish order there ; even Mr. Stead, a writer generally fair
and outspoken, is under some spell. His hands are tied, his
blood is frozen, he extenuates massacre by the double and in-
consistent pleading of necessity and error.

CROMWELL AND THE IRISH.

Cromwell had been misled, it seems, by the inventions about
the outbreak in Ulster under Sir Phelim O'Neil, and so misled he
poured out upon the Irish the unrestrained vengeance of England.
It was also necessary to put the authority of the Parliament on a
sure basis, and the only way to secure this was to render it im-
possible that that refractory people could ever again lift a ringer
in opposition. I am of . opinion that in the nine years which
followed, any man who was not a fanatic, any man capable of
judgment, must have learned that there were comparatively few
acts committed by O'Neil's insurgents which could be classified
as outrages ; and that any such acts occurred without his knowl-
edge.* The principles on which the Confederate Catholics con-
ducted the war anticipated those rules of humane warfare which
are supposed to prevail to-day ; and the Confederate generals
pursued those principles while Coote and Bingham, Monroe
and Inchiquin, and their lieutenants, were wasting the lands
and butchering the inhabitants wherever they found no enemy
to oppose them.

The truth about Cromwell's method in Ireland is that he
should succeed there at any cost, as he should succeed in Eng-
land by any means that would not alienate his supporters.
He might safely slaughter every man, woman, and child in an
Irish town, burn every house and cottage, fling a storm of fire
on every field upon his march, because in doing so he would
have the enthusiastic approval of the Houses, of the Presby-
terians, and of the sectaries of all kinds, and he would in addi-
tion have the secret sympathy of the English Royalists.

* The fact is, Cromwell and the Parliament were negotiating with Owen O'Neil on terms
favorable to the Catholics in the year before the murder of the king. The English Catholics
were to be included in the terms. The matter is one of the secrets of history which await
fuller information. We know enough to see the hollowness of the pretence of retaliation for
the Ulster massacre.

1900.] - CROMWELL AND LIBERTY. . 489

HIS REMARKABLE PERSONALITY.

In England it would not do to give way to his savage im-
pulses ; he knew where to stop, for knowledge of character, in
which he surpassed most others, restrained him among the Inde-
pendents and Deists, the Fifth-Monarchy men, and the Zealots of
Deuteronomy, the Presbyterians so calculating and pitiless, the
mad sergeants who could not pass a church without ascending
the pulpit, the dreadful fanatics who were inspired to preach
and slay, and the fanatics who were inspired to overthrow all
government. He walked amid these difficulties with an astute-
ness hidden, as the occasion served, under a blunt familiarity,
or a coarse buffoonery, or a solemnity to which the strong,
manly lines of his face could impart that appearance of mystic
elevation never seen in the merely vulgar hypocrite. He was
the prince of actors because for the time his passions, all the
powers of his mind, entered into the part he was playing. He
was in many respects great ; his military genius and organizing
power in military affairs were of no common order. He had
little talent for constructive government, but he had confidence
in himself; and so with an ambition that was unbounded he
employed without scruple any means which led to its gratifica-
tion. With an affectionateness of disposition towards his own
family worthy of a simple and homely training he united in
affairs of state a ferocious perfidy, cynical in its coldness, terri-
ble in its courage. His very hypocrisy, reaching beyond the
imagination of Moliere and the reality of Tacitus, blinded all
by the bonhomie, brusqueness, abandon which covered it. It
was the simulation of ideal candor, and from his entrance to
Parliament until 1648 it deceived every * one ; from 1648 it de-
ceived the soldiers and continued to deceive them until the
end. It was fortunate that when all others had ceased to
trust him the army remained faithful.

These are not the opinions of prejudice. They were the
views of all men at home and abroad until, early in the nine-
teenth century, certain French Liberals suggested political
theories which started a train of thought among the Whigs
and Nonconformists of England tending to a revision of the
old judgment. If the verdict of history is to be set aside, one
is entitled to demand the new evidence. In 1800 Napoleon
charged his opponents with calling him Cromwell and calling
him Caesar. I do not think he considered the implied com-
parison a stigma, but his adversaries meant that he was a
soldier aiming at military dictatorship ; he in his soul took it

490 CROMWELL AND LIBERTY. [July,

as expressing the fear that he could employ the army of the
Republic as Caesar and Cromwell had used the armies they con-
trolled. This was the estimate which continental Europe then
held of Cromwell; it was an outside opinion, but it had the
advantage of being an impartial one.

THE PERIOD WAS ONE OF DISTURBANCE.

At the very time all looked upon Cromwell as the destroyer
of the Constitution in church and state ; while the Whigs were
not yet able to recognize him as a friend of political liberty,
though in some unintelligible way they discovered in him the
friend of religious liberty.* He expelled the clergy from their
churches ; he sent unsurpliced ministers and ranting soldiers
into their pulpits. This may be to some minds the outward
and visible sign of an interior love of religious liberty, but I fail
to appreciate it. Be this as it may, there can be no question
that with regard to civil liberty it was the opinion of every
man in the beginning of the nineteenth century that he had
raised himself to supreme power by trampling upon the con-
stitution. Not a law, not a usage, by which person and pro-
perty were protected was regarded. When the Parliament
began to resist his violence, he charged them with usurping
the legislature and the judiciary ; years afterwards he said that
this was his justification for seizing the control of the legisla-
ture and judiciary one of those necessities of state which his
modern admirers lay hold of as a complete vindication. I have
always heard it denied that two wrongs make a right.

The truth is, that the period from the death of the king to-
the Restoration has been always looked upon as an interreg-
num. The statutes of the first year of the Restoration are
called the .statutes of the I2th of Charles II. The interval has
been looked upon as a period of lawlessness, and rightly, for
the king was in exile, the constitution was suspended, the
rights of the people were at the mercy of a faction which
thought it controlled the army, until Cromwell, at the head of
the army, drove it out as an obstacle to his ambition, put in
its place men like Praise-God Barebone and his brother, You-
will-be-damned-if-you-do-not Barebone ; and when these foolish
fanatics had done their work of discrediting civil institutions
established that sham parliament of the three nations which,
we are now told, was the foundation of imperial unity.

Looking at the rule of Cromwell, one is amazed at the

* Doubtless because Milton was his secretary, he who had written that "new Presbyter
is old priest writ large '' ; and this was a blow at priestcraft.

1900.] CROMWELL AND LIBERTY. 491

hardihood which speaks of it as an era of liberty. We must
go back to the governors of the Conqueror for a parallel to
his major generals. Whatever was done from the death of the
king, whatever led to the death of the king, was the act of
Cromwell. The governors of the Conqueror exercised absolute
sway over their jurisdictions; they were surpassed in every-
thing save unbridled lust by the major-generals. No man's
property was safe. Decimation was supposed to be the legal
limit of the confiscations they had the power to inflict. Crom-
well in after years spoke of them as taking all instead of a
tenth. They had been in reality his own instruments, but it
became politic to discredit them ; and this he could do with a
passionate energy which looked like the prompting of indig-
nant justice, and amid appeals to God which sounded like the
denunciations of a Hebrew prophet.

INFLUENCE OVER HIS CONTEMPORARIES.

Cromwell's ability to hold men's minds is the most remark-
able of his qualities. His letters and his speeches, rambling,
incoherent, impious, here and there relieved by a shrewd re-
mark or a hint skilfully addressed to the passions of his hear-
ers, are accepted by men of literary taste and political knowl-
edge as examples of rough eloquence and profound insight.
Everything about him must be praised since he has become
the greatest statesman of any age. From his grave he casts a
glamour over the Whigs and Radical Imperialists of England
and the Revolutionary societies of France, as he ruled the
army in his life. When those saintly soldiers grumbled at
revenue and court splendor, he told them it was not for him-
self but for the glory of England these things were sought.
He was the head of a great and generous people, therefore the
supplies should be ample; he had raised the country from the
condition of a third-rate power to the foremost influence in
Europe, therefore it was fitting he should have a court and
guards even as the Man possessed them, even as Charles
Stuart, from the bondage of whose house the people had gone
forth. If they objected that he. exercised more than regal
authority, he was inspired to tell them that he was even as
Christ, and that in Christ's love for them their power had been
lifted up against Agag and the priests of Baal, and that their
feet were upon the necks of kings, and that their bonds were
upon princes, and their fetters of strong iron were upon nobles,
and that in all he was but their instrument because the instru-
ment of Christ. Of course he would convince them. There

49 2 CROMWELL AND LIBERTY.

was a certain truth in his claim that England stood high in
Europe, and in the tentative note for a revision of the historical
verdict the Edinburgh Review, some sixty years ago, declared
that he had never allowed any one to oppress his country but
himself.

The Whigs of the Reform era and their French allies saw
that the Revolution of 1688 could only be justified if the
principles on which the rebellion of 1642 and its consequences
could be vindicated. Hampden, Pym, and Holies became the
predecessors in political continuity of Russell and Sidney, as
these were of Shaftesbury, Temple, Essex, and Halifax.
Russell and Sidney died the death of traitors, the latter a
pensioner of the French king, Russell probably one. Not one
of the lot possessed a shred of character except Hampden. It
is not clear that Hampden foresaw the consequences of the
rebellion. It is likely that he expected that terms would be
made with the king ; it is likely, if he had lived, that his kins-
man Cromwell would have sent him to the block for heading a
counter-revolution.

JUDGING HIS POLITICAL HONESTY.

Two facts must be borne in mind in judging of Cromwell's
political honesty. They are not the only ones, but they are
important ones. By the royal assent the Long Parliament
could not be dissolved except with its own will. The king
had no power to divest himself of this part of the prerogative.
The right of dissolution is still a part of the constitution, even
though the queen's title is only a parliamentary or convention-
al one.* I mention the queen's title as a proof that the king
took the constitutional view when he held that his assent,
obtained by coercion, was not binding. This, however, is one
of the matters about which Charles's good faith is so violently
assailed by Whig politicians and the magazine writers who are
carried off their feet by the Cromwell-worship of Carlyle and
his school. But what of Cromwell ?

He maintained the indissolubility of the Long Parliament,
and he took a commission in the service of that institution.
For eight years he was its soldier, until he acquired that as-
cendency over the troops and influence over the masses of the
people which enabled him to expel from the House of Commons
the members who were opposed to the trial of the king. One

* It was a convention of notables that changed the dynasty. It had no authority, and
every step based upon its invitation to the Prince of Orange was iljegal. I say nothing of
prescription ; that is not in issue.

IQOO.] CROMWELL AND LIBERTY. 493

is reminded of a proscription of Marian senators by Sylla when
he calls up in memory the account of Pride's Purge. True
there was no blood shed, but Pride intimated to the members
what they might expect if they offered resistance. This body
so far as fidelity has a meaning, authority a claim to obedi-
ence, or oath after oath gives a title to belief ; so far as assur-
ances public and private, professions in season and out of
season, may beget trust ; so far, in a word, as there is anything
which constitutes morality in the dealings of man and man,
man and society this body should command Cromwell. He was
bound to sustain the Long Parliament with his life, for his was the
will which had made it what it was an irresponsible oligarchy.
His attack upon its privileges is to be classed with the con-
stitutional crimes of those Italian citizens who destroyed liberty
in the republics cursed by their presence, with the tyrants who
in any age or country stepped from the place of a servant to
that of a master, and his expulsion of the members who, it was
feared, would be merciful to the unfortunate sovereign, has the
very savor of Tiberius when he went to the senate and sat
among the senators to secure a fair trial for an enemy.

When he expelled them later on, he told them they were
no Parliament. It was true, no doubt. The king that sum-
moned them slept in a bloody grave. Constitutionally they
were dissolved by his death ; but suppose not, then the king
who had the right to dissolve them was an exile. The House
of Lords had been deprived of all power and authority ; but
it was by Cromwell's counsel and by the aid of his sword that
one king had been murdered and the other was a wanderer.
By this counsel and this sword the Commons carried out the
threat they had dared to make in the life-time of Charles I. ;
for they resolved : " That whatever is enacted and declared for
law by the Commons . . . hath the force of law, . . .
although the consent and concurrence of the king or House of
Lords be not had thereto." Addressing the army, and through
them the people and the House, Cromwell declared that " the
hour had come for the Parliament to save the kingdom and to
govern alone." Their resolution followed on the suggestive
hint. One of the most eloquent passages in all Macaulay's
writings is the attack on Charles for going to the House to
arrest the five members. Unless on the assumption that the
Long Parliament was the creature of Cromwell, that the House
of Commons was alone the Parliament, that the electors had no
rights of any kind, that England was under a military despotism

494 CROMWELL AND LIBERTY. [July,

sanctioned, as Cromwell professed to believe, by the same
authority as that given to Moses and Josue, and that legal op-
position was to be treated as Moses and Josue would 'deal with
idolatry, it is hard to understand how Macaulay, how the
Radical Imperialists of England, can look with approving eyes
at the swords of Colonel Price and his soldiers waving over
one hundred and forty members, while condemning Charles for
going to the House to arrest five members charged with treason.*

THE RUMP PARLIAMENT.

This outrage on the Commons left it with less than a hun-
dred members. They were all devoted to Cromwell, as he
thought. The name went out that they were the rump of a par-
liament ; they are preserved in history as the Rump Parliament,
a name as fatal to their influence as the names of the Bare-
bone Brothers to that of the succeeding assembly.f But they
suited Cromwell until, growing proud as though they had any
real authority, he sent them about their business. As long as
they voted what he wished they were free to amass fortunes
and to appoint their relatives over the houses and estates and
liberties of the people ; but they decreed the disbandment of
the army. This could not be tolerated. They thought that
Cromwell was their servant ; but it was in reality for him they
had disestablished the church and sold its lands, driven the
clergy forth to beg like the monks in the preceding century,
confiscated the estates of the gentry, robbed the freeholders
and peasantry belonging to the parts which had at any time
been loyal to the king, raised taxes with a reckless disregard
to the condition of the tax-payers, like the brutal covetous-
ness which evoked the rebellion of Tyler or the hundred in-
surrections that fill the reigns of the Tudors ; but they might
have continued to do this to the end if they had not reminded
him of what he hated: the memory of laws and institutions;
ways of life, of manners, of speech, of sentiment; the existence
of a state with a prosperous people, a nation with venerable
traditions and a noble history, before a Cromwell came to blot
out the past.

* What the treasonable acts were I do not know, but clearly the publication of their
speeches and addresses amounted to seditious libel. It was an ill-advised proceeding on the
part of Charles.

t The reader might like the names of a few saintly jurors of this time : Faint-not Hewit,
Steadfast-on-High Singer, God-Reward Smart, Kill-Sin Pimple, Fight-the-Good-Fight-of-
Faith Smith. One can readily imagine Cromwell groaning and then pouring out the spirit
among these idiots.

1900.] CROMWELL AND LIBERTY. 495

ITS DISSOLUTION.

It fell amid the mockery of the country. All classes were
delighted. It was the power which seemed to oppress them,
when the inexorable will of the successful soldier was behind.
The ignominious name ruined it among the unthinking; would
have been too strong an influence even on capable minds not
interested in its continuance ; but no one thought of the ribald
buffoon slapping the members of his council on the back,
flinging cushions at their heads, smirching them with ink, and
then descending to the inferior officers and private soldiers to
shriek forth prayers, to bellow psalms and join in the rivalry
of extempore preaching, or the more amazing rivalry of silence
when possessed by a spirit of inspired taciturnity. Yet the
wretched Parliament enacted and talked, and was believed to
be the cause of the calamities of the country, until the hour
had struck. I think its last scene one of the most absurd and
pitiful in the records of crime and weakness that may be taken
from any nation. Amid the grotesqueness of a thousand in-
conceivable follies in France of the Terror there is the pres-
ence of death, as close and pervading to the senses as it was
to the revellers during mediaeval plagues who waited, goblet
in hand and wreath on head, while each saw in the other's
face the fatal spot appear. But the farce of the expulsion of
the Rump defies even genius to make it solemn or dignified,
much less striking. A rabble of village politicians driven
from a public-house before they consumed the liquor which
they had paid for would be on a par with them. The big
policeman was there in the buff coat, the falling collar, and
the rolling boots, as inseparable as the scars and wrinkles of
which Lely was not to make beauty-spots ; but with more
unction than the modern conservator of the peace, that big
policeman said : " Your hour is come ; the Lord hath done
with you ! " A' crowd of members started to their feet.
" Come, come ! we have had enough of this ; I will put an end
to your prating." There were protests ; some hurrying to the
door, some mounting on benches. Cromwell's voice rose above
the din : " It is not fit that you should sit here any longer !
You should give place to better men ! You are no parlia-
ment." A member appealed to Magna Charta. The scorn and
brutality of Cromwell's echoing rhyme was worthy " the great-
est prince and soldier of the age " ; and yet it might be said
that a thousand imperishable memories ought to have sprung up

496 CROMWELL AND LIBERTY. [July,

at the thought of the Great Charter in which every right or
privilege of Englishmen has its birth, in which every seed of
progress in law and power, in art and science, was planted.
Whatever is to-day the pride and glory of the race was laid
in the principles wrung by Catholic prelates and lords from a
tyrant as intolerant of freedom as the great rebel of the seven-
teenth century himself.

A few hours after his musketeers had ejected the " end " of
the Long Parliament he dismissed the Council of State, the exe-
cutive of that body. When Bradshaw, a member of the council,
protested that the Parliament could not be dissolved ; that
though Cromwell might drive its members forth it still lived
in the constitution, one wonders whether no thought came to
him of the time when he presided at the trial of the king,
wrangled with him during the defence, gave the sentence which
overturned a constitution which had lasted for six hundred
years. It may have been that some such thought arose ; but
it is hard to say, for all the characters of the time seem to
have been afflicted with a distemper under the paroxysms of
which the most solemn and unusual acts were performed as
though they were matters of routine, and acts of far-reaching
consequence executed as by clowns grinning through horse-
collars at yokels in a fair. After signing the warrant for
beheading the king Cromwell playfully rubbed ink upon the
face of a bystander!

CROMWELL THE MASTER.

Practically there was no change of government. The Bare-
bones Parliament had only one authority to obey Cromwell,
and surrender their trust when he demanded it. It was a gov-
ernment by the sword without the restraint which opinion,
some kind of law, some forms of departmental delegation, have
exercised in the worst kinds of military despotism. It is said
that peace during the imperial parliament which succeeded
Barebones' was established over Ireland, England, and Scot-
land with a completeness never before experienced by these
nations. This is the statement put forward as the justification
of a despotism erected by the champion of freedom. Good
government is the end of liberty, and Cromwell secured good
government ; so that he was in practice as much the friend of
freedom as in the day he entered parliament and took his stand
against the king. There is nothing in the inference but a silly
quibble ; there is not a particle of real truth in the statement

nein

1900.] CROMWELL AND LIBERTY. 497

that he secured that peace at home which is the essence of
liberty. Gentlemen of good family were in constant terror of
being shipped off to Barbadoes. The Royalists allowed to re-
main here and there kept to their houses or fled to the woods
at the approach of strangers. There was not a moment that
their houses were safe from a military visitation, their goods
secure from spoilers under the authority of the Common-
wealth, the remnants of their estates beyond an additional
requisition.

AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND.

In this period of peace there was constant dread of insur-
rection. Cromwell had his spies in every spot of London, in
every part of the country. He dreaded the Independents, the
Monarchy, Men who went shouting for King Jesus, the Presbyte-
rians who were in correspondence with the king, the Royalists
whom all his blandishments could /not win. If peace were
secure, it is strange he would not venture to sleep two nights
in the same room, or to return even with his mailed guard by
the same route along which he had gone to any place from
Whitehall. If the fabled government of Pygmalion typifies
the worst form of tyranny, then Cromwell's rule has the fea-
tures of the type. It was the same in Scotland.

The fact is Scotland was in an agony of expectation for the
coming of the king. She was merely kept down by the terror of
his name and the strength of the army quartered upon her. She
had done more for the revolution than England ; she was well re-
warded ! Her subjugation was as complete as when Edward I.
empowered his governors to despoil the people, to slay them at
their pleasure. Impatient of the authority which secured her old
laws and constitution, the freedom of her church, or at least the
representative character of her ecclesiastical government, she
rose against a scion of her line of ancient kings, and obtained
in return the privilege of sending a few members to the impe-
rial Parliament in London, in which they would not have a
shred of influence, even if their influence would be employed
for her benefit. For this privilege, exactions, domiciliary visits,
oppressions on the score of worship and on the suspicion of
treason, went beyond anything of the days of Charles II.,
which the Whig historians hold up as the ex post facto vindica-
tion of Cromwell's rule, and the ground for the Revolution in
favor of William and Mary.

In truth, the Commonwealth in England is one of those
VOL. LXXI. 32

498 CROMWELL AND LIBERTY. [July,

periods of inexplicable and portentous horror like cataclysms
in the changes of the earth. From out that time, created by
it and in a remarkable manner guiding it, Cromwell emerges
to arrest or turn back the forces of progress. The bursting
forth of great fountains must have left desolate a land upon
their retirement. The vineyards that grow from the lava of a
volcano have succeeded to vineyards that had been blasted by
the irruption. But in the interval between the rise of cities
and farms on the deluged land, in the space that passed since
the volcano's activity, the march of progress is thrown back or
arrested, a great misfortune to mankind at large. True, an ad-
joining province may be benefited by the calamity ; but hu-
manity is an aggregate, the race is an entity in the production
of wealth and the extension of knowledge, and a loss to part
may be a loss to the whole for which nothing can compensate.
Yet in comparison with the destruction of moral principles or
their perversion, the loss of wealth, the death of a people
through a visitation, is of no moment.

A RESUME.

When a man rises in a state through the violation of the
elementary principles of order he is a public danger. When
he obtains power through the profession of sanctity he destroys
in all active minds belief in the reality of religion. If to treason
and impiety you add a pretence of patriotism, and all this ends
in a despotism to which the sincere patriot or the honest man
of any kind must be offered as a sacrifice, you have the whole
career of Cromwell. It is no wonder a confusion of mind should
take hold of the world, that religion should become nothing but
priestcraft, that opposition to undue exercise of authority should
be stamped out in blood lest it become rebellion, that rebellion,
however criminal, becomes holy when successful. All this has hap-
pened in connecting the name of an unscrupulous and ambitious
adventurer with the purest principles which have ever moved the
heart liberty of conscience and civil liberty. On this vulgar
tyrant the forces of freedom have put their crown. In America,
a land not merely dedicated to liberty, but born of the spirit of
liberty, baptized in the blood of martyrs for liberty, we find
the same hideous confusion of mind caused by the worship
of success. Turn for a moment to the old Cavalier, the Mar-
quis of Winchester, defending his house against the Parliament
until the flames blaze around him ; hear him as he bursts forth
saying, I would so defend it if the king had lost all other

1900.]

CROMWELL AND LIBERTY.

499

places! and consider that writers have no praise for such splen-
did loyalty. Think that, on the other hand, they are astute to
vindicate the policy which sent thousands of English gentlemen,
myriads of Irishmen and Irishwomen of all classes, to die in the
swamps of the tobacco plantations, and estimate the value of
their morality when judging of successful crime. I may not speak
of Cromwell's war and government in Ireland. The first has been
described as necessary, the second as successful upon the whole,
but the Irish race are not wiped out. His European policy has
been lauded to the .skies, yet if subsequent disaster and humilia-
tion be a test that a policy, however showy, was unstatesmanlike,
by this test Cromwell's was the greatest failure in the course
of English history till then. It could not have been otherwise.
He was duped by Mazarin and handed Europe over to France.
He destroyed Holland as a naval power, and in doing so laid
the foundation for a French ascendency which was only pre-
vented by the reckless ambition of a greater Cromwell Napo-
leon Bonaparte. Nothing has survived Cromwell but the
crimes his admirers try to make the deeds of a hero and the
mistakes they call the policy of a statesman.

500 RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. [July,

RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS.

BY RIGHT REV. PAUL TERZIAN,
Bishop of Adana and Tarsus.

BETROTHALS.

N the Orient, as is well known, children are mar-
ried at a far earlier age than is customary else-
where. Various reasons are given in explana-
tion, though I think that only one possesses any
great probability. According to the most trust-
worthy of the ancient accounts of this race, the custom has
long prevailed in Asia Minor as well as in other regions in-
habited by Armenian emigrants from Persia. In the sixteenth
century, when the people were groaning under the yoke of a
certain shah, he conceived the design of marrying the young
Armenian maidens to Persian youths and the Persian girls to
young Armenians. The one means of escape from this mis-
fortune, it is said, was to hasten marriages, and for several
nights the mothers ran from house to house, marrying their
sons and daughters, young as they were, almost at random.

This unlucky event seems to have left on the national
spirit an impression so deep that centuries have not effaced
it, and at last it has become quite a popular custom. Thence
devolves upon the parents the imperative duty of closely
watching the marriage of their children and their choice of a
future. They must, moreover, be careful to take such meas-
ures as are necessary to prevent possible mishap, by arranging
conditions which will insure happiness. The children in turn
must exhibit thorough filial obedience to the good advice of
their parents, while still retaining the right of using their free-
will to consent or not.

As among us marriages are made neither for love nor for
convenience, there is no chance either of abuse or force ;
everything is done in perfect good order. When once a father
and mother have decided on the marriage of their son, in
counsel with the grandparents, but without consulting the
young man, they choose from among all the young girls of mar-
riageable age the one who seems most eligible by rank anc
social position. Then without delay they entrust to a woman

A TYPE OF THE TURK.

1900.] RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. 501

well versed in the delicate task of
managing an Oriental courtship the
duty of learning the likings and the
plans of the young girl's parents. The
reason of this is that great care must
be taken not to make an offer of
marriage until the inclination of the
family in question is well understood ;
for a refusal would ruin the reputa-
tion of the boy, and the tattle of the
gossips would make it impossible to
repair the damage. Hence it is not
difficult to see the great prudence
which must be used by the chosen
messenger. Having prepared the way,
she approaches both families, establish-
es between them a cordial understanding, and finally makes the
offer, which is in their case welcomed, after arrangements have
been made as to the presents which the young man must make to
his intended wife. In old times these presents consisted of rich
ornaments, such as gold and silver bracelets studded with dia-
monds, rings, ear-rings, and the gold pieces mentioned above in the
account of baptism. But to-day they consist only of silver plate,
heir-looms from the olden days, passed down from father to son
and from mother to daughter, sad relics of better times. Al-
though these ornaments to-day are of insignificant value, we
regret to say that the people of the Orient, not yet being
completely detached from the charm of appearances, have thus
far not acquired the faculty of seeking qualities of real worth
in affairs of marriage.

Thus the thing which the young girl most considers is the
value of the presents promised to her, and the young man
thinks most of the physical beauty of his intended wife, and
the wealth of her parents. The first question asked of the
young man, before the arrangement can proceed, is, What can
he offer his bride? And so it happens that unions that would
be most auspicious in every other respect are prevented if this
one requisite be lacking. This idea of considering the orna-
ments as fundamental conditions, and indeed even indispensa-
ble as regards marriage, gives great opportunity for deceit and
trickery which occasion many a sad tale, and bring about
irreconcilable discord between two families. So, for example,
if the young man is not in condition to procure all the orna-

5O2 RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. [July,

ments demanded, he casts about for the means, and often
succeeds by borrowing from his friends. A week or two after
the marriage the secret leaks out, unsatisfactory explanations
wind up in disputes, and the young wife finds herself obliged
to surrender all that she had received as a present from her
husband. But when, on the contrary, all these arrangements
are happily completed, and the agreement is made, they settle
on the day of the public celebration of the betrothal. The
ceremony ordinarily takes place in the evening ; the priest
being notified of the event, blesses the ring, and the same
night the invited guests gather in the young man's house.

As soon as all are assembled the signal is given to set
forth. Whither ? To the house of the young girl, where, in
the presence of the guests, the offer already made is repeated,
and the ring is presented as a blessed token to the bride elect.
Each one of the guests has already been provided with a wax
taper expressly prepared for this occasion, and on the way to
the maiden's house these are lighted in order to light the way
through the streets, often dark and muddy, as the weddings
usually take place toward the end of autumn, and at the com-
mencement of the rainy season. It is odd to see a crowd of
men and women, hastening through the darkness with lighted
tapers, accompanied by the joyful music of violins, drums, and
clarionettes, and singing with loud voices snatches of popular
airs. Sometimes a long detour is made, in order to lengthen
the distance between the houses of the two betrothed. Arrived
at the house, the father and mother pretend not to know the
reason for this great crowd of visitors. Words are exchanged,
and long and meaningless discussion follows, both parties care-
fully withholding every word which would disclose their inten-
tion.

At last the priest adroitly changes the course of the con-
versation and prepares the minds of the parents to accept the
offer for the sake of which the visitors have taken the liberty
of presenting themselves at this hour of the night. Then, while
all lips are closed and every eye is lowered, a deep silence
pervades the room and the priest continues in the following
manner: "According to the law of the Supreme Creator and
following the usage of human society we have the happiness of
demanding the hand of Miss N. for Mr. N."

The father of the young girl, in order to be pressed, pre-
tends that he does not 'wish to accept the offer, stating that
his daughter is still too young, and that he has not yet thought

RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. 503

of marrying her. Thereupon the parents of the young man
make answer. Finally all agree ; the consent of the father and
mother, or of those who represent them, is won ; and then
they turn to consult the young girl. At this moment she is
not to be seen ; she has hidden herself, as usage decrees. The
priest goes in search of her ; but when found she does not
speak, and it is useless to attempt to win her consent in words.
The priest, well versed in the knowledge of the national cus-
toms, tries another means better adapted for success ; he offers
her his hand, saying to her, " If you wish to comply with the
desires and the will of your parents, kiss this hand as a sign."
The affirmative or negative action of
the young girl, warned and consulted
beforehand, settles the matter. Then
comes the presentation of the ring be-
fore the assemblage, accompanied by
the benediction, on which great stress is
laid. Custom demands that the presen-
tation and the blessing should be per-
formed in public ; but, on the other
hand, it does not permit the young girl
to appear in sight. So recourse is had
to another expedient. A brother or sis-
ter of the bride elect comes forward,
kneels down before the priest, who be-
stows the benediction in presence of the
crowd, likewise on their knees. And the

child then carries ^ie ring to the fiancee. After this ceremony,
the health of the young couple is drunk amid an acclamation of
compliments and congratulations. The liquor used on this
occasion by both rich and poor is only a rose-syrup prepared from
water and common sugar. Whatever honor it is possible or
desirable to confer on the guests on this occasion, the syrup is
above all indispensable ; it is, so to say, a characteristic com-
pliment.

Now it is time to remember the young man, who is at home
awaiting the good news, for he is not among the wedding
party. Custom forbids him to appear in the house of his
destined bride either before or after the betrothal ; up to the
very day of the wedding he is forbidden even to pass by the
door. If by chance they meet, the fiancee hides herself, and
the boy must turn away his face. Respect for custom forbids
the parents to allow the meeting of the young folks before

RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. [July,

marriage. Towards ten o'clock the party breaks up, and each
guest as he departs receives a wax taper from the family of
the young girl. It is customary on going to carry away some
objects, stealthily picked up, in order to test the vigilance of
the people of the house. The latter, of course, are on the
watch ; but among so many guests some find it possible to
carry away a glass, a bottle, or often some cooking utensil.
These things are returned only at the price of a supper from
the head of the family. The same^ night the parents and the
friends of the young girl, after having assisted at the cere-
mony, go to visit the parents of the young man ; and the
latter must stand upright before his future father-in-law
and all the assemblage, during the whole time of the visit,
which sometimes* lasts for hours. At a certain moment the
brother of his fiancee takes him aside and offers him privately
a glass of syrup, prepared by his fiancee with her own hand.
This is given in acknowledgment of the choice he has been
pleased to make of her. The whole night is passed in song
and amusement. During the fortnight which follows the be-
trothal both parties receive visits of congratulation, and to all
guests they must offer nothing but the syrup used at the
betrothal.

MARRIAGE.

The interval between the day of betrothal and that of mar-
riage differs according to the customs and habits in the various
cities of Asia Minor : the nearer they are to the great cities,
like Constantinople, Smyrna, etc., where foreign usages interfere
with national observance, the more we notice that the interval
lengthens into months and even years. In the interior cities
such delay is held in horror. In Anatolia, where the people
love to retain with all fidelity the usages cherished and prac-
tised by their ancestors, they never devote more than a month
to this interval, appropriated, it seems, to preparations for the
wedding.

On the part of the young man these preparations consist in
getting ready the ornaments promised at the betrothal : a white
wedding-dress ; a fine veil to cover the face of the young bride,
descending in front to her very feet ; a wreath of artificial
flowers; a pair of shoes, etc.; on the part of the young girl
the trousseau must be looked after. This is made up of linen
garments, dresses for great occasions, and such bits of jewelry
as the parents can give to their daughter ; also a wooden chest

IQOO.] RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. 505

A GROUP OF

filled with linen and clothing, a mirror, the nuptial bed with
all its paraphernalia, carpets, and some cooking utensils. It
should be added that this equipment is in proportion to the
wealth of the parents.

Once these preparations are completed the two persons con-
cerned fix on the week for the celebration of the marriage,
which usually takes place on Sunday afternoon in the parish
church. Two days before invitations are sent out and the
musicians secured. Saturday evening the godfather is bound
to invite all the friends of the bridegroom to take a warm
bath during the night, and they go to the bath with a great
noise attended by the musicians procured for the wedding.
Sunday morning the bride's white dress and the bridegroom's
par-dessons are sent to the church to be blessed by the priest ;
the future couple assist together at the first Mass and receive
Holy Communion, having made a general confession.

In the forenoon the young man must be shaved in presence
of the guests, while the music plays and his friends sing ; the
barber, eager enough for these welcome days of big profit,
brings with him a well-stocked case of perfumes. The friends
who are gathered to do honor to the bridegroom must each
one pour out upon him a bottle of perfume, and display his
generosity by paying double for it ; finally the bridegroom is
dressed amid the assembled crowd, while the priests, accom-
panied by choir-children, sing canticles. The same scene occurs
at the house of the young girl.

506 RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. [July,

In conducting the young bride and bridegroom to the
church a variety of customs is observed : in some cities the
bride's brother offers her his arm, but when returning she is
confided to the care of her husband ; in other cities the young
man's parents conduct their daughter-in-law to the church from
her home, where her guests and the bridegroom's have assem-
bled in separate groups ; in other cities again, where they lead
the bride mounted upon a horse, she must be completely cov-
ered by a thick veil which envelops all her body ; each time
that she has to mount or descend, either in going out of her
father's house or after the marriage ceremony, great care must
be taken lest the bride's foot should touch the earth, and each
time she descends from the horse it is mounted by a boy, who
must wait there until the bride herself remounts. For this duty
some strong young fellow, a relative of the bridegroom, is
selected. The procession is always accompanied by musicians.

Arrived at the church, they find a great crowd of persons
who, though uninvited, are always welcome to assist, if they so
desire, since the door of the church is opened to everybody
and no one can be prevented from becoming a spectator. The
people love to have this unceremoniousness and oriental familiar-
ity, a remnant of their primitive life, as a contrast with the
formal and exact ceremonial prescribed ; and the family would
be greatly grieved if no outsiders thought of coming to honor
the wedding by being present at the church.

Before the rail separating the choir from the body of the
church a little space is reserved on which are set two rustic
wooden chairs. Upon these chairs the bridal couple sit down
together, and the others kneel upon mats covering the floor of
the church, which is neither paved nor boarded. During the
ceremony, when the priest is about to give his blessing, the
bridal couple enter the choir and stand facing each other be-
tween the high altar and the two witnesses, their foreheads
touching. In this position they receive the Sacrament of Matri-
mony. After they have given affirmative answers to all the
priest's questions concerning their duties to each other and to
their children, he speaks in the vernacular of all the evil days
and all the misfortunes of human life, misery, poverty, sickness,
infirmities of all sorts. He demands of the bride perfect fidelity
in her conjugal duties, and entire obedience towards him whom
the good God now gives her as husband. He demands of the
bridegroom, in turn, unceasing care, thorough exactness in his
duties as husband and father, and patience and wisdom, always

1900.] RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG

ARMENIANS. 507

remembering that he has chosen his wife freely and accepted
her as companion before the Cross, Our Lady, and the Blessed
Sacrament. Of both he then demands mutual forbearance and
a sincere and lasting love. The bride and groom make answer
in an undertone, while everybody listens with a most edifying
attention, and with a recollection thoroughly religious. Finally
the priest ties about the heads of the young couple a cord to
the end of which is attached a cross. Towards ten o'clock in
the night of the wedding day the priest removes these crosses
with a special ceremony, and not until then can the newly
married couple enter the nuptial chamber.

They go home then, each one bearing a cross typical of the
trials certain to be encountered in their future life. On the
way, in token of joy, the water-carriers with a great noise break
jars and earthen jugs before the young couple. The godfather
it is who must pay these good men ; his place in the procession
is close to the bridegroom. Not infrequently does it happen
that the latter is surprised with a shower of water from the
broken jars. Then the procession makes the streets resound with
its hurrahs, while the young husband, moved at seeing his
clothing thus drenched, sheds abundant tears. Arrived before
the gate of the house, they find a sheep lying on the ground
ready to be killed at the feet of the young couple ; at least
thus it was in the ancient days of wealth ; to-day little pullets
ire substituted. The butcher as he puts his knife upon the
throat of the fowl says these words : " May the good God thus
put all your enemies under your feet/' and every one answers
in a loud voice " Amen, Amen ! " Then
from the windows above the entrance
the people throw down upon the young
couple dried fruits such as raisins, hazel-
nuts, pistachios the sole wealth afford-
ed by their paltry resources. With these
are mixed some little pieces of money
.to please the children withal.

At his entrance the husband is con-
ducted by his godfather to the crowd of
men, and the wife is led by her god-
mother towards the women ; and instant-
ly all the assemblage, men and women,
exhibit a praiseworthy zeal to kiss the
cross, which lies like a crown on the
heads of the bridegroom and his bride. A CIRCASSIAN.

508 RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. [July,

The bride having taken the seat of honor, some one lays in
her arms first a little boy and then a little girl in token of the
general wish that her first child should be a boy. Every one
must come forward and do homage, placing at the bride's feet
an orange or some other fruit of the season as a mark of re-
spect.

The bridegroom is called the prince of the feast, and is not
supposed to quit his place of honor unless forced to do so. If
he does quit it, he must be careful to leave behind him some
object belonging to him. If he fails to do that, the assemblage
condemns the godfather to pay forfeit that is to say, to give
them a supper ; and however vigilant both of these persons
may be they are not seldom caught napping. Towards nine
o'clock the guests take leave of the master of the house,
having had their hearts' content of eating, drinking, and song.

HOUSEHOLD LIFE AFTER MARRIAGE.

The bride, faithful to the Oriental tradition, after her mar-
riage keeps herself concealed from every one except her
husband. Over her face she wears a fine handkerchief through
which she can see without being seen, and of which she is not
divested for years, and then only by the special permission of
her mother-in-law. She must speak with no one, not even her
husband's parents or brothers ; an exception is made with re-
gard to his sisters, but to them she must always speak in an
undertone.

Every morning and at the end of each meal she must approach
her husband's father and mother and pour water on their
hands.

Up to a certain age she kisses the hands of all visitors
whatsoever, excepting men, before whom custom never permits
her to appear. Sons after their marriage never leave the
paternal roof. Ground being very cheap, they build as many
extra rooms as may be desired, and when space is at all limited
eight or ten people will live in the same apartment. The most,
unfeeling of men would be moved to see these people in a
little cramped room built on the ground and level with a court
covered with poisonous and foul-smelling mud. A shocking
odor fills the room whenever they open the door, which is the
sole opening for admission of light and air.

As the visitor enters he finds himself greeted by a cloud of
smoke from burning petroleum and smouldering coal, which
envelops his face and penetrates to his very lungs. By the

1 900.] RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. 509

dim rays of light which enter through the cracks in the door
little half-naked children may be seen playing on the straw,
smiling with that angelic satisfaction peculiar to these inno-
cents, perfectly regardless of their hard lot. And it is indeed
quite astonishing to find these little ones happy, graceful, and
robust despite bad lodging and bad nourishment. Often they
are stout enough to excite the envy of royal parents watching
day and night beside the cradle where the object of their
tender solicitude, despite all care, is ly-
ing a prey to frightful suffering. Who
can doubt that God in his eternal justice
watches closely over souls deprived by
his providence of all temporal blessings,
and blesses them with the real and un-
speakable wealth of health, resignation,
and faith.

As the visitor enters the home of
these humble creatures he is presented
with a pillow, to be used as a seat in
the absence of a chair or cushion.
When some members of the family un-
dertake to tell their tale of woe, they
manifest such Christian resignation that
it is impossible to avoid shedding

tears. They listen to your words with edifying simplicity,
accompanied with sighs of contrition if any fault has been
committed. What is most touching is that at the moment of
your departure they humbly offer you one or two . pennies,
without doubt the price of their dry daily bread. This cer-
tainly is a relic of the most Christian generosity of former
days.

At sight of this charity, fit to remind one of the Scripture
story, the priest finds a sweet joy in adding to the little sum
of family wealth some pennies from his own pocket, and then
makes his escape amid a shower of blessings and hearty good
wishes.

Such is a faithful description of the household life led by
the majority of the Armenians in our diocese.

FUNERALS.

When the condition of a sick person is beyond hope of re-
covery, the faithful piously consider it their bounden duty
to notify the priest, in order that he may administer the

5io RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. [July,

last sacraments confession, communion, and extreme unction.
When life has departed they close the eyes and mouth of the
deceased, wash the body, clothe it in the finest and newest
garments at hand, and cross the arms on the breast. From
this moment until the time of the funeral two candles are kept
burning, one at the head of the bed and the other at the
foot. The sad sound of a wooden bell gives notice of a new
funeral.

If the deceased has passed, away towards evening, or about
night-fall, it is difficult to comprehend the heartrending condi-
tion of the unhappy family of the deceased. They must pass
the whole night by the side of the corpse, or even in the
same bed, until the dawn, weeping and sighing, while the asses
and the cattle mingle their groanings with the general lamenta-
tion ; for in the villages and little towns where people dwell
in huts these poor animals spend the winter with the family in
order to lessen the cold by their breathing.

Relatives, neighbors, friends, and even enemies, are invited
to pay their last respects to the remains of the deceased. In
sign of grief coffee without sugar is offered to the company.
Mourning women are secured, who eulogize the departed in
words and anecdotes fit to draw tears from the most unfeeling
person in the world. After they have shed many tears, and
wept and lamented until their very voices die in their throats,
there sounds the deep tone of priests singing the burial chant.
Then the body is taken to the church in a special coffin.
Amorrg the wealthier classes this is covered with a black cloth
adorned .with little white crosses. Among the others a com-
mon bier is used, on which the body is extended and wrapped
in linen.

The coffin or bier is carried to the cemetery by either rela-
tives or friends of the deceased. On the way, marching very
slowly, they chant in a loud tone. A great cross, accompanied
by two lighted torches, comes first, and is followed by the
priests, who walk before the coffin. Every Christian who
meets the procession stops, uncovers his head, and repeats the
sign of the cross many times. The procession having arrived
at the church, two wooden chairs are made to do duty as
catafalque; or, as is not infrequent, the body is placed upon a
mat on the ground. If the relatives of the deceased are of
comfortable condition, little lighted wax tapers are distributed
to everybody in the church. During the ceremonies the body
is blessed with holy water and perfumed with incense, and

i QOO.] RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. 511

then while it is being conducted to the cemetery the chant is
sung all along the way.

Let him who wishes an instance of Christian mortificatiom
come here to us and accompany a funeral procession through
streets covered by pools of filthy water and knee-deep in
mud, and walk along exposed to the merciless rain and snow,
and the bitter cold which glues the bearers' hands to the han-
dle of the coffin or bier.

Toward the end of the ceremony in the cemetery the priest,
with the sign of the cross, blesses the four corners of the
grave, and scatters three shovelfuls of earth into it and as
many more upon the coffin. Following the priest, all present
dutifully cast in three handfuls of dust. As the cemeteries
are not surrounded by walls, nor watched over by special
guardians, the faithful dare not even place wooden crosses as
marks of distinction at the head of the graves, lest it should
be the occasion of sacrilege. So they must content themselves
with leaving as monuments some fragments of stone.

On returning from the cemetery every one is requested to
visit the home of the deceased. There they are invited ^o
partake of steaming broth prepared by neighbors or friends
while reciting ardent prayers for the soul of the deceased.
Three days later a Mass is chanted for the departed soul, and
at this the people assist with the most
touching devotion. And on this occa-
sion food, including broth, must be dis-
tributed by the church. The grave is
again blessed on the third and the
ninth day, at the close of the third
month, and at the end of a year.

The length of time given over *:o
mourning is one year for fathers, rr o-
thers, elder brothers, married sisters, and
other near relatives of adult age ; and
six months for the other brothers and
sisters. The mourning color is dark
blue. The mourning dress is worn day
and night, since ordinarily the people
have but one costume for night and

day, both in the house and out-of-doors. During all the time
of mourning no sign of joy can be perceived in the family of
the deceased, and they are to be met with at no place of pleas-
ure or amusement.

512 RELIGIOUS CUSTOMS AMONG THE ARMENIANS. [July,

When the deceased is a priest every effort is made to carry
out the Christian ritual in all its splendid detail. The pro-
cession makes the circuit of all the churches ; at different
places it stops in the street and the Gospel is read over the
dead. The shops are closed and the women suspend their
duties. The deceased is interred in the court of the church,
clothed in his sacred vestments. The farmers send sheep to
be distributed to the poor ; usually they continue the mourn-
ing for eight days. If the deceased is a married priest, his
widow can never again remarry ; likewise the priest, if his wife
should die, cannot contract a second marriage, but must remain
a widower to the end of his life. Celibacy in this country is
reserved to those priests whom the bishop at their ordination
judges to be worthy of the honor.

1900.] CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST. 513

CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST.

BY JAMES J. WALSH, PH.D., M.D.

HE College de France will be a favorite shrine
of pilgrimage for educators who visit Paris this
summer. It represents the oldest educational
institution deliberately founded with the idea
of combining teaching with investigation. The
professors were not bound to teach definite doctrines, literary
or scientific, but to give rather the results of recent investiga-
tion and personal meditation on great scientific and philo-
sophic problems. The college was not meant, in a word, so
much for students as for specialists. It was intended not to
convey a definite body of knowledge on any subject, but rather
to round out the knowledge acquired in the regular course at
the University of Paris, and to dwell particularly on recent
lines of advance in special subjects in a manner that would
encourage original investigation.

In a word, the College de France was the first of the
modern post-graduate schools. We have learned in recent
years how important are post-graduate departments for their
influence on the regular work of a university. Unless original
investigation of a high order is constantly being done at a
university, it is inevitable that the regular course shall cease
to be up to date. Modern educators are coming to realize
very forcibly this feature of a successful teaching institution.
Hence the interest that will surely be manifested in the Col-
lege de France as the original post-graduate school.

ASSOCIATION WITH THE COLLEGE DE FRANCE.

To the great majority of those who come to pay their re-
spects at the shrine of original investigation, it will prove a
distinct surprise to find the centre of the court of the College
de France occupied by a statue of Claude Bernard. Bernard
is not well known, and still less appreciated out of scientific
circles. By many it is forgotten that the original free school,
the college de trois langues, in which Hebrew, Greek, and
Latin were the only chairs, has extended its scope, and that
in our day the natural sciences represent the most fertile field
of its achievements. The absolute freedom of opinion guaran-
VOL. LXXI. 33

CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST. [July,

teed to professors originally, and which constituted the principal
reason lor an educational institution apart from the University
of Paris and its trammels, has proved a precious heritage to later
generations. Science has flourished vigorously, and the memorial
to its representative cultivator at the college in this century
has deservedly been given the place of honor in its court.

To the initiate, however, for whom, in medicine and physi-
ology, and general biology, his work is still an inspiration,
many points of interest around the college will have all their
attraction from associations with Claude Bernard's career. His
neglect by the popular mind is more than compensated for by
the fervent admiration of all those who are occupied with in-
vestigations along the lines he followed. For in him they
recognize a mister mind such as is given to a branch of
science not more than once in a century ; the veritable pos-
sessor of a magician's wand, who knows how to disclose the
hidden veins of precious ore, the exploitation of which will
prove a source of riches to so many faithful followers. For
these the dark little laboratory of the college in which Bernard
made so many of his ground-breaking discoveries will be in
the nature of a shrine to which one comes with precious
memories of the genius loci that was. The apartment across
the street at No. 40 rue des Ecoles, where Bernard lived for
years, will be the term of many a pilgrimage. Scientists from
all over the world will wander from here out to the laboratory
in the Jardin des Plantes, where Bernard's work was done in
his later years, and where the fundamental problems of life-
plant and animal usurped the attention that had at first been
devoted exclusively to human physiology and its allied sciences.

HIS ORIGIN AND EDUCATION.

Claude Bernard is another and a striking illustration of the
historic tradition that great men usually come from the coun-
try, and not infrequently from poor parents. He was born at
St. Julien, not far from Lyons, almost in the centre of France.
His father owned a small farm in the Beaujolais wine district.
The little estate came later into Bernard's hands, and when
he could afford the time he spent his summers there. When
the air is clear the white summits of the Alps can be seen,
and they make a pleasing contrast to the plains along the
Saone and the hill-sides of the immediate neighborhood, all"
covered with vineyards. Bernard, who enjoyed nature very
much,* speaks enthusiastically of his little, verdant summer nest.

CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST. 515

Bernard was educated at the Jesuit school of Villefranche.
It will be recalled that Theodor Schwann was also a student
of the Jesuits. In these days, when Jesuit educational train-
ing is impugned, the facts are worth noting. It is claimed
especially that the old-fashioned training by means of the
classics is narrowing. The old method of a definitely pre.
scribed course of study for every student is said to hamper de-
velopment. Slavish devotion to old pedagogic methods, it is
urged, cannot but shackle and destroy initiative. The sub-
ordinate place of the sciences in this scheme of education is
said to hinder progress in the sciences later on in life, to leave
the powers of observation undeveloped until it is too late, and
to distract the mind of the student too much from the practical
side of life. Here are two men whose lives are an open contra-
diction to all the allegations of the opponents of the old Jesuit
system of training. Needless to say they are but two of many.

Bernard pursued the course with the Jesuits at the College
de Villefranche as far as it went. After this we find him at
Lyons, at first pursuing studies in philosophy "in preparation
for his baccalaureate degree, evidently with the idea of eventu-
ally entering the university. Family reasons, mainly financial,
compelled him to give up his studies, and for nearly two years
he was an assistant in a pharmacy in Lyons. Here he developed
a scepticism with regard to the effect of the drugs he com-
pounded that led later in life to his important studies on the
physiological action of remedies.

EARLY EXPERIENCES IN PHARMACY.

The science of therapeutics was at that time in a most in-
choate stage. Very little was known of the exact action of
drugs. Exaggerated claims were made for many, but mainly
on uncertain clinical experience. The modern patent medicine
was as yet unknown, but something not unlike it had become
popular among the patrons of the Lyons pharmacy. One
remedy was in constant demand by city patrons and by coun-
try people, who came from long distances especially to procure
it. It was known as la thMaque " the cure " I suppose from
some fancied connection with the root of the word therapeutics.

This remedy, according to the old women of the neighbor-
hood and the countryside, was a panacea for every ill that
flesh is heir to, and a few others besides (pro morbis omnibus
cognitis et quibusdam aliis). The composition of this remedy
was, however, even more interesting than its universal curative

516 CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST. [July,

efficacy. Whenever a drug spoiled from too long keeping, or
an error in its manufacture, made it unavailable for the pur-
pose for which it was originally intended, or whenever an in-
voluntary mistake in compounding occurred, the assistants in
the pharmacy were directed not to throw the drugs away, but
to reserve them for "la theriaque." " Mettez vous cela de
cot pour la theriaque " (put that aside for "la theriaque") was
a standing order in the shop. From a remedy of such varied
ingredients the most wonderful effects could be expected and
were secured. An unexpected action of the remedy, how-
ever, was that produced on Bernard's mind. This influence
was later to lead to the healing of a good many ills in the
system of therapeutics, and to bring about the establishment
of the sciences of experimental pharmacology and physiology.

Bernard developed literary ambitions while at work in the
pharmacy. He spent many of his free evenings at the theatre,
and wrote a musical comedy, "The Rose of the Rhone," which
was acted with some success. He worked at a prose drama,
and thinking the possibilities of life too narrow in Lyons, he
resolved to go to Paris. With his play in his pocket, and a
letter of introduction to the distinguished critic St. Marc
Girardin, he reached the capital. Bernard's drama, " Arthur de
Bretagne," was published after his death, and shows that its
author possessed literary talent of a high order. This must
have been evident to Girardin, to whom it was given to read ;
but he very wisely advised its author to eschew literature, at
least for a time, until he was able to make his living by some
other means. Girardin advised Bernard to take up the study
of medicine, for which his work in pharmacy had already pre-
pared him somewhat.

BEGINS THE STUDY OF MEDICINE.

Bernard, having once made up his mind to pursue medi-
cine, threw himself, as was his wont, enthusiastically into the
study of it. The utmost frugality was necessary in order to
enable him to live on the scant income that could be allowed
him from home. He lived with a fellow-student in a garret in
the Quartier Latin. Their one room was study and sleeping
room, and even, on occasion, kitchen. When a " box " came
from home, utensils were borrowed from the laboratory for
whatever cooking was necessary.

Bernard was especially interested in anatomy, and soon made
himself known by the perfection of his dissections. Physiology

i QOO.] CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST. 517

attracted him not for what was known in the science, but for
the many problems as yet unsolved. His was above all a mind
not prone to accept scientific teaching on the ipse dixit of a
professor. Except in the dissecting-room, his work attracted no
attention. He was not looked upon as a brilliant student, and
yet all the while he was unconsciously preparing himself
thoroughly for his life-work. Later on his dissecting skill was
to be a most helpful acquisition. Bernard's first promising
opening came unexpectedly. The skill with which he did cer-
tain dissecting work in preparation for one of Magendie's les-
sons attracted the attention of the professor, at that time the
greatest living experimental physiologist. Magendie, in his
bluff, characteristic way, without asking further about him,
called out one day: " I say, you there, I take you as my pre-
parateur at the College de France."

This position was gladly accepted by Bernard, for it pro-
vided him with an income sufficient to support himself.
The work was congenial. His duty was to prepare the speci-
mens and make ready the demonstrations for Magendie's lec-
tures. His career as a physiologist dates from this appointment.
He had to give some private lessons, and do what is called
"coaching," or "quizzing," in order to eke out his slender in-
come, but in the main his time after this was entirely devoted
to investigation and experiment.

HIS FIRST INVESTIGATION.

His first investigation concerned stomach digestion. It was
important mainly because it directed his mind to digestive
questions. In these he was to make his great discoveries. His
first independent investigation concerned the differences to be
found in the digestive apparatuses and functions of the car-
nivora and herbivora that is, of the meat and plant eating
animals,. The differences in the natural habits of these two
classes of animals had long been noted. While the meat-eaters
invariably bolt their food, the plant-eaters chew theirs very
carefully. Many of these latter, like the cow, are ruminants
that is, they bring up their food to chew it over again at their
leisure. The instinct that makes them do this is most precious.
Their food is mainly composed of starch, in the digestion of
which the saliva takes a large part. The thorough mixture of
the food with saliva, then, is an extremely important matter.
Human beings, who are both herbivorous and carnivorous, must
learn to masticate thoroughly at least the starch-containing por-

518 CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST. [July,

tions of their food. Bernard's first researches concerned the
nerves that supply the salivary glands, and which consequent-
ly influence the flow of saliva. Curiously enough, the conclu-
sions of his first experiments were erroneous. The topic led
him, however, into the general subject of the influence of nerves
upon glandular secretion, a problem that he was destined to
illustrate in many ways.

INVESTIGATIONS INTO INTESTINAL DIGESTION.

After the salivary glands the most important structure for
the digestion of starches in the animal economy is the pancreas.
It was early evident, however, that the pancreatic secretion
effected more than the conversion merely of starch into sugar.
Its most important rolf, that of influencing the digestion and
absorption of fats, was only recognized as the result of a
classical observation of Bernard's upon the rabbit. He noticed
that fat introduced into the digestive tract of a rabbit under-
goes no change until it has advanced a considerable distance
beyond the stomach. When fat is introduced into the dog's
digestive apparatus a marked change begins in it almost as
soon as it leaves the stomach. At first this seemed very
mysterious. Observations were made over and over again,
always with the same result. There was evidently some im-
portant difference between the intestines of the two animals.
Careful investigation showed that the difference between the
behavior of the fat in the rabbit and the dog was due to the
presence or absence of the pancreatic fluid from the intestinal
contents. In the dog the pancreatic duct which carries the
secretion of the gland to the intestine empties into the intes-
tine just beyond the stomach. In the rabbit the duct and its
secretion empties into the intestine only some eight to ten
inches below the intestinal orifice of the stomach. It is just
beyond where the pancreatic duct reaches the intestine in both
animals that the digestion of fat begins. This observation
solved the seeming mystery of fat digestion, and at the same
time made clear the importance of the pancreatic secretion in
the general work of digestion.

Bernard's attention was directed by the first observation to
the other properties of the pancreatic fluid. He soon demon-
strated by experiment, not only that it split up fats into fatty
acids and glycerine, and so made their absorption possible, but
that it had a powerful action upon proteids that is, upon the
albuminous portions of the food, and also upon the starches

1900.] CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST. 519

and sugars. Up to this time the principal r6le in digestion had
been assigned to the stomach and the gastric juice. After
Bernard's observations it became clear that the work of the
stomach was mainly preliminary to intestinal digestion, and
that the chief work in the preparation of food for absorption
into the system was really accomplished by the secretion of
the pancreas. It took some years to make all this clear.
Much of the advance in our knowledge of the effect of pan-
creatic juice upon proteids that is, upon meat and other
albuminous materials is due to Kiihne, a pupil of Bernard's ;
but not only did the inspiration for the pupil's work come
from the master, but the important fundamental principle of
pancreatic proteolysis t. e. t the solution of protrtds by pan-
creatic secretion was clearly laid down in Bernard's original
publications on the subject. Only in our own day has come
the greatest confirmation of the notion then first introduced
into physiology, of the surpassing importance of intestinal
digestion. The removal of the whole stomach for malignant
disease is now undertaken without any fears as to the ultimate
result on the patient's general nutrition. The operation has
been done some ten times, and the surgeons' confidence that
the intestines would compensate, as far as digestion of food was
concerned, for the absent stomach has been amply justified.
Patients who survived the operation have all gained in weight,
and some of them have enjoyed better health than for years
before the removal of their stomachs.

From his studies of the pancreas, Bernard, whose mind was
always of a very practical bent, was very naturally led to the
study of that interesting disease, diabetes. The question of
how sugar was absorbed into the system was an interesting
one even at that time. It was not realized, as it is now, that
saccharine material was a most valuable food-stuff. Its use in
the world's great armies of recent years has brought sugar
very prominently before the medical profession of to day. The
bone and sinew for hard fighting and exhausting marches would
not seem to be derivable from the favorite dainty of the child,
which has besides fallen into such disrepute as a health dis-
turber; yet tons upon tons of sweets are now shipped to fight-
ing armies, and are distributed in their rations when especially
hard work is required of them. Bernard did not quite realize that
he was attacking,' in the question of the digestion and consump-
tion of sugar in the system, one of the most important problems
of nutrition, especially as far as regards the production of heat.

520 CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST. [July,

SUGAR IN THE HUMAN SYSTEM.

Sugar is a substance that dissolves easily and in considera-
ble quantity in water. When in solution it easily passes through
an animal membrane by osmosis, and so the question of its
absorption seemed simple enough. The disease diabetes showed,
however, that sugar might exist very plentifully in the blood
and yet the nutrition of an individual suffer very much for
the lack of it. Something else besides its mere presence in
the system was necessary to secure its consumption by the
tissues. Bernard thought that the liver was active in the con-
sumption of sugar, and that disease of this organ caused
diabetes. Me therefore secured some of the blood going to the
liver of a living animal and some of the blood that was just
leaving it. To his surprise the blood leaving the liver con-
tained more sugar than that entering it. After assuring him-
self that his observations were correct, he tried his experiments
in different ways. He found that even in the blood leaving the
liver of an animal that had been fed only on substances con-
taining no sugar, sugar could be demonstrated. Even in a
fasting animal the liver itself and the blood leaving it showed
the presence of a form of sugar. The only possible conclusion
from this was that the liver was capable of manufacturing this
form of sugar out of non-sugar-containing material, or even
from the blood of a fasting animal.

This was the first time in physiology that the idea of an
internal secretion was advanced. Glands within the body that
gave off a secretion always possessed a duct by which this
secretion was conducted to where it was to produce its effect.
The idea that glands exist which poured their secretion directly
into the blood stream had not occurred.

This branch of physiology has developed wonderfully since
Bernard's discovery. The chapter of the functions of the duct-
less glands is one of the most interesting and most practical in
modern medicine. The spleen, the thyroid, the suprarenal
glands have taken on a new significance. Mysteries of disease
have been solved, and most wonderful, we have learned that
many of the substances derived from these glands, when not
present in the human body, may be effectually supplied by cor-
responding substances from animals, with results upon suffering
human beings that are little snort of marvellous. To mention
but one example : the stunted, idiotic child that, because of con-
genital absence of the thyroid gland, formerly grew up to be a

1900.] CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST. 521

repellent, weak-minded man or woman, can now in a few short
months be made the peer of most of its kind. All of the
modern tissue therapy, with its hopeful outlook, is due to
Bernard's far-reaching conclusions from his experiments upon
sugar digestion and absorption.

HEAT PRODUCTION AND REGULATION IN THE BODY.

His studies on sugar logically led Bernard to the investiga-
tion of heat production and heat regulation in the human
body. Glycogen, the sugary substance produced by the liver,
occurs abundantly in all the muscles of the body, and it was
evident that muscular movement led to its consumption and
the consequent production of heat. Sugar is a carbon-contain-
ing substance, and its combustion always produces energy.
The question of heat regulation was a much more complicated
problem. Heat is always being produced in the human body
and always being given off. Very different amounts of heat
are required to keep up the temperature of the human body
in the winter and summer seasons. Near the pole or at the
equator man's temperature^ in health is always the same. To
secure this identity of temperature some very delicately bal-
anced mechanism is required. Without the most nicely ad-
justed equilibrium of heat production and dissemination human
tissues would soon freeze up at a temperature of 70 below
zero, or the albumen of the body fluids and muscular tissue
coagulate at a temperature above 110 F.

While engaged in the investigation of this interesting prob-
lem Claude Bernard found that the cutting of the sympathetic
nerves in the neck of a rabbit was followed by increased heat
on the side of the head supplied by the nerve, and that this
increased heat coincided with heightened sensibility and greater
blood supply in the parts affected. Here was an important
factor in heat regulation laid bare. It was evident that the
sympathetic nerve trunk supplied filaments to the small
arteries, and that when these nerves no longer acted, as after
the cutting of the nerve trunk, these arteries were no longer
controlled by the nervous system and became dilated. The
presence of more blood than usual in the tissues and its slower
flow gave occasion to more chemical changes in the part than
before, and consequently to the production of more heat.

These vaso-motor nerves, as they have been called, because
they preside over the dilatation and contraction of the walls
of the blood-vessels (vasa) of the body, are now known to play

522 CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST. [July,

an important role in every function. When food enters the
stomach, it is dilatation of the gastric arteries, brought on by
the reflex irritation of the presence of food, that causes the
secretion of the gastric juices necessary for digestion. It is
the disturbance of this delicate nervous mechanism that gives
rise to the many forms of nervous dyspepsia so common in
our day. It is its disturbance also that makes digestion so
imperfect at moments of intense emotion, or that makes severe
mental or bodily exertion after the taking of food extremely
inadvisable. The vaso-motor nerves, however, control much
more than heat processes and digestion. The familiar blushing
is an example of it, and blushes may occur in any organ. Ex-
citement paralyzes the efforts of some individuals, but renders
others especially acute. It is probable that the regulation of
the blood supply to the brain has much to do with this.
While one student always does well in an oral examination,
another, as well gifted, may always do poorly. Just as there
are those who cannot control the vaso-motor nerves of the
face, and blush furiously with almost no provocation, so there
are brain- blushers in whom the rush of blood interferes with
proper intellection. On the other hand, there are those, and
they are not always unaware of it, in whom the slight disturbance
of the facial vaso-motor mechanism only gives rise to a pleasing
heightened color, and in the same way the increased blood sup-
ply to the brain only gives them more intellectual acumen.

BERNARD AND MAGENDIE.

These two discoveries of Bernard's the formation of sugar
by the liver and the nervous vaso-motor mechanism are, in
their far reaching application and their precious suggestiveness
for other investigators, the most significant advances in physi-
ology in the present century. They are directly due to a great
imaginative faculty informing a most fertile inquiring spirit. Ber-
nard was very different from his master, Magendie, in his applica-
tions of the experimental method. Magendie's researches were
made more or less at random in the great undiscovered regions
of physiology. He made his experiments as so many questions
of nature. He cared not what the answer might be. He
seldom had an inkling beforehand where his experiments might
carry him. As he said himself, he was a rag-picker by the
dust-heap of science, hoping to glean where others had missed
treasures, and not knowing what his stick might turn up next.
Bernard's experiments were always made with a ^definite idea

1900.] CLAUDE BERNARD^ THE PHYSIOLOGIST. 523

as to what he sought. Not infrequently his preconceived
theory proved to be a mistake. It is of the very genius of
the man that he was able to recognize such errors, and that
he did not attempt to divert the results of experiments so as
to bolster up what looked like eminently rational theories.
The imaginative faculty that had come so near perverting him
to literature was a precious source of inspiration and initiative
in his scientific work. It was not followed as an infallible
guide, however, but only as a suggestive director of the course
investigation should take.

Besides the important discoveries made by Bernard there
are two minor investigations, successfully accomplished, that
deserve a passing word. To Claude Bernard we owe the use
of curare in physiological experimentation. Curare is an Indian
arrow poison which absolutely prevents all muscular move-
ment. If artificial respiration is kept up, however, the animal
lives on indefinitely, and no motion will disturb the progress
of the most delicate experiment. In Bernard's time it was
thought that the drug did not affect the sensory nervous sys-
tem at all, and that as a consequence, though absolutely
immobile, the animal might be suffering the most excruciating
pain. We now know that the sensory system is also affected,
and that the animal in these experiments suffers little if at all.

DISCOVERIES CONCERNING CARBONIC OXIDE GAS.

Bernard's investigation of the effect of carbonic oxide gas
will probably be of more practical benefit to this generation
and the next than it was to his. Like most of Bernard's dis-
coveries, this one threw great light on important questions in
physiology quite apart from the subject under investigation.
Carbonic oxide is the gas produced by incomplete combustion
of coal. The blue flames on the surface of a coal fire when
coal is freshly added are mainly composed of this gas in com-
bustion. From burning charcoal it is given off in considerable
quantities. The gas is extremely poisonous. Unlike carbon
dioxide, which does harm by shutting off the supply of oxygen,
carbonic oxide is actively poisonous. After death the blood of
its victims, instead of being of a dark reddish blue, is of a
bright pinkish red. Bernard's study of the change that had
taken place in the blood showed that the hemoglobin of the
red blood-cells had united with the carbonic oxide present in
the lungs to form a stable compound. The usual interchange
of oxygen and carbon dioxide in the tissues could not take

524 CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST. [July,

place. The combinations formed between oxygen and carbon
dioxide with the hemoglobin of the blood readily submit to
exchanges of their gaseous contents, and so respiratory pro-
cesses are kept up.

Before Bernard's discovery it was thought that the respira-
tory oxygen was mostly carried dissolved in the blood plasma
that is, in the watery part of the blood or at least that its
combination was a physical rather than a chemical process.
This idea was overthrown by the discovery that the carbonic
oxide combination with hemoglobin was very permanent. The
r6le of the red blood-cell in internal respiration took on a new
importance because of the discovery, and the comprehension of
anaemic states of the system became much easier.

About the middle of his career Bernard suffered from a suc-
cession of attacks of a mysterious malady that we now recog-
nize to have been appendicitis'. Once at least his life was
despaired of, and recurring attacks made life miserable. After
a year of enforced rest on the old farm of his boyhood, now
become his own, he seems to have recovered more or less
completely. His health, however, was never so robust as be-
fore. Towards the end of his life he lived alone. His wife
and daughters were separated from him, and one of the daugh-
ters devoted her time and means to suffering animals in order
to make up, as she proclaimed, for all her father's cruelty.

Bernard lived almost directly opposite to the College de
France, in a small apartment in the rue des Ecoles. An old
family servant took care of him, and his life was one of utter-
most simplicity, devoted only to science. Once at court, in 1869,
Napoleon III. insisted on knowing, after an hour's conversation
with him, what he could do for him. Bernard asked only for
new facilities for his experimental work, and new apparatus
and space for his laboratory.

ELECTED TO THE ACADEMY.

Honors came to him, but left him modest as before. He
was elected a member of the French Academy one of the
forty immortals. Only five times in the history of the Academy
has the honor of membership been conferred upon a medical
man. Before Bernard, Flourens, the father of brain physiology,
had occupied a fauteuil, while Cabanis and Vicq d'Azyr are
two other names of medical immortals.

Bernard was elected to the 24th fauteuil, which had been
occupied by Flourens, and according to custom had to pro-

IQOO.] CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST. 525

nounce his predecessor's panegyric. The conclusion of his
address was the expression : " There is no longer a line of
demarcation between physiology and psychology." Physiology
had become the all ruler for Bernard in human function, and
he drifted into what would have been simple materialism only
for the saving grace of his own utter sanity, his active imagina-
tion, and the unconscious influence of early training. During
his most successful years of scientific investigation, wrapped up
in his experiments and their suggestions, Bernard was drawn
far away from the spiritual side of things. This partial view
of man and nature could not endure, however. In an article
on Bernard in the Revue des Questions scientifiques for April,
1880, Father G. Hahn, S.J., says of him: "A man of such up-
Tightness of character could not be allowed to persist to the
end in this restless scepticism. His mental condition was really
a kind of vertigo caused by the depths of nature that he saw
all around him. At the threshold of eternity he came back to
his true self and his good sense triumphed. The great physi-
ologist died a true Christian."

RELATIONS WITH PASTEUR.

Bernard was one of the great thinkers of an age whose
progress in science will stamp it as one of the most successful
periods of advance in human thought. He accomplished much,
but much more he seems to have divined. He seldom gave
out the slightest hint of the tendencies of his mind, or of his
expectations of discovery in matters of science, until fully
satisfied that his theoretic considerations were justified and con-
firmed by observation and experiment. In one thing, however,
he allowed favored friends to share some of his anticipations,
and the notes published after his death show that he was
on the very point of another great discovery in biology which
has since been made. He was a great friend of Pasteur's,
and had ably seconded the great chemist-biologist's efforts to
disprove spontaneous generation. Bernard's demonstration that
air passed through a tube heated red hot might be suffered with
impunity to come in contact with any sort of organic material,
yet would never cause the development of germ life, was an
important link in the proof that if life were carefully destroyed,
no life, however microscopic in character, would develop unless
the seeds of previously existent life were somehow brought in
contact with the organic matter.

With regard to fermentation, too, Bernard was for many

526 CLAUDE BERNARD, THE PHYSIOLOGIST. [July.

years in close accord with Pasteur, who taught that fermenta-
tion was the result of the chemical activity of living cells, the
ferments. Towards the end of his life Bernard came to the
view, however, that the action of ferments was really due to
the presence in them of chemically active substances called
diastases. These substances are of varied chemical composition,
but each one has a constant formula. Their presence in a
fermentescible solution is sufficient of itself, even in the
absence of living cells, to bring about fermentation. It has
since been shown that after this substance is removed from
ferment-cells' by pressure, and the liquid carefully filtered so
that absolutely no cells remain, fermentation will yet take place.

This does not disprove the necessity for life to produce the
diastases originally, though it advances science a step beyond
the theory that it is the actual vital interchange of nutritious
substances within the ferment-cell that causes fermentation.
With each step of advance in biological science the mystery of
life and its processes deepens.

No one has done more to bring out the depths there are in
vital function than Bernard. His early training was of the
type that is, according to many prominent educators of our
day, least calculated to develop originality of view, or capacity
for initiating new lines of thought. Our pedagogic Solons
would claim that the narrow orthodoxy that wrapped itself
around his developmental years must surely stifle the precious
genius for investigation that was in him. It is due, on the
contrary, very probably to the thorough conservatism of his
early training and the rounded fulness of the mental develop,
ment acquired under the old system of classical education, that
we have to chronicle of Bernard none of the errors by exag-
geration of personal bias that are so common among even great
scientific* Wen. Few successful men have ever owed less to
luck : oV \ 6 favoring circumstances in life. He was in the best
sense t a self-made man, and he owed his success to a large
liberality of mind that enabled him to grasp things in their
true proportions. With an imaginative faculty that constantly
outstripped his experimental observations he was singularly free
from prejudgment and was able to control his theories by what
he found, never allowing them to warp his powers of observa-
tion. Bernard is with.out doubt the greatest example of the
century that a fully rounded youthful training is much more
favorable to successful investigation than the early specialization
which is falsely supposed to foster it.

THE NEW GOVERNMENT PALACE.

A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC.

SAN MARINO.
REV. M. P. HEFFERNAN.

. kttafto.

HE Republic of Andorra, it is said, possesses no
carriages ; the Republic of San Marino knows
no railways. To reach this quaint territory,
which comprises about thirty-two square miles,
and is hidden away up in a corner of Romagna,
near the Adriatic Sea, the traveller must ride over rough roads
in a kind of jaunting car. The excursion, however, is well

528 A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC. [J ul y

worth the trouble, and this little republic is not by any means
the least of the curiosities of Italy. The tourist does not go
to San Marino to see walls, edifices, statues, paintings, nor
even campi santi, but he goes there to view a state of things,
social and political life, such as exists nowhere else.

San Marino is the last of the patrician republics. It dates
back to the eleventh century, and while all other countries
have changed their constitution, San Marino has not changed
its. It is not, therefore, "constitutional conventions" that
disturb the rest of the good San-Marinesi. Their archaic stat-
utes satisfy them and they do not ask for a change. Sixty
members elected for life compose the great Council (Generale
Consiglio Principe), which, by a graphic abbreviation, is known
as "the Prince." These members are chosen one-third from
the nobles, another third from the burgesses, and the last
third from the land-holders.,

The Consiglio Principe elects its own members. When a
member dies, he is succeeded by another who must belong to
the same category as the deceased. A noble is elected in
place of a noble, and a land-cultivator in place of one of his
class. The council also appoints the magistrates and other
officials, makes 'laws and decrees, grants pardons, and chooses
the two captains-regent, who hold office for six months. These
duumviri are the real rulers of the republic ; they discharge
the duties of several offices, and these offices are of a most
varied character. It certainly is not the desire of emolument
that leads them to seek office, for all that is allowed them in
the way of salary amounts scarcely to thirty dollars, and with
this meagre sum they must run their bureau.

The election of the captains-regent is surrounded with many
precise formalities. The great council begins with drawing b]
lot the names of twelve councillors. Each councillor proposes
the name of a candidate. As the regents must be one a nobl<
and the other either a burgess or a land-owner, the choice oi
candidates must be made according to that tradition. Aftei
this preliminary action the council again convenes. Of th<
twelve names submitted six are picked out for the choice ol
the electors. Every man who has attained his twenty-fifth
year has the right of suffrage. The election is held publicly,
and the electors go, not to the town-hall but to the cathedral
to deposit their ballots. In Portugal elections are held in th<
churches, but in San Marino it is in the cathedral behind th<
altar of San Marinus that the electors pass in their ballots,

A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC.

529

We have said their*
ballots, for each on el
places three ballots
in the urn.

Usage demands
that the elector be
provided with three
slips, each of which
contains two names,
and in this way the
names of the candi-
dates to whom he
refuses his vote are
eliminated. It is
astonishing to see
how, in a state whose
institutions are so
democratic, so large
a field is handed
over to the patriciate,
and the influence of
the popular element
is so limited in the
matter of elections.

They, however, who are most interested never dream of complain-
ing. They believe that the established order of things has given
and gives excellent results, and they have no desire to change it.
As M. Morin de Malsabrier has remarked in his interesting work
on San Marino, it is necessary to seek for the reason of this fact
in the attitude of the aristocracy. It is allowable, this author
writes, to infer from such an infraction of the principle of
equality that the nobility of San Marino, instead of abusing
the privileged position which it occupies in the state, has at
all times showed itself worthy of it. The patriarchal patriciate
has been imposed on the state by wise motives, as well as by
the amenity of governmental procedure. It is indeed necessary
that it should be so, since the Consiglio Principe has caused
its authority to be recognized to the exclusion of every other.
It is a remarkable thing that municipal power does not exist
in San Marino, and it is, perhaps, the only state in Europe
in which such a condition of affairs exists. In the villages of
this small republic the municipal council is replaced by an
administrative delegate, whose duty is to give an account of

VOL. LXXI. 34

THE GATE OF RIPA.

530 A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC. [J u ty

the needs of the locality to the regents/ This agent is at the
same time mayor of the village and an official of the civil
state. The villages and hamlets of San Marino adapt them-
selves to this condition of affairs. Home rule is a thing quite
indifferent to them.

After San Marino, the capital, which has 3,500 inhabitants,
the next important village is Serravalle, which counts 1,504.
This is one of the industrial centres of San Marino. Large
vases of clay in an Etruscan form are made here, and are
much used in ornamenting gardens in Italy and elsewhere.
Very picturesque in situation, built on an elevation and sur-
rounded by precipices, Serravalle is one of the stations to be
met with on the road from Rimini to San Marino. The coach
painfully climbs ascents nearly a half-m,ile long, but there are
many fine points of view on the journey. It is true that the
arrival at San Marino reserves a maWellous panorama for
travellers.

The Apennines with their round summits may be distinctly
seen from the terrace of the public square of Pianello. They
follow one another, tapering gradually ; until they are lost in
the distance like the heavy billows of the sea. If one look to
the north, he will behold the vast plains of Romagna, whose
rivers, cities, villages, and towns recall the names of battles
and famous epochs. The historic Rubicon flows through these
plains. Here are Rimini and Ravenna, whose walls rise to the
horizon. The view extends as far as the Adriatic, as far as
.the pine forests with rounded tops that border on the sea.
The Titano on which San Marino is built is one of the loftiest
summits of the Apennines. It has given its name to the small
republic, which is frequently designated as the "Titan Repub-
lic." The houses which are seen lower down are those of
Borgo, the market-town of San Marino; it might be more
justly called a suburb of the capital. Before ascending the
Titano the traveller meets with a pretty little town, having a
public square which is surrounded by porticoes and fine houses.
This is lower San Marino, famous for its fairs, which are held
in high repute at Rimini, Urbino, Montefeltro, and Ravenna.
It takes a full half hour to climb the steep mountain side that
leads to the Pianello. This is the name of the public square
of the little capital. Here stood formerly the old Palazzo, in
which the Consiglio Principe held its meetings. It was a
modest, ordinary edifice, and the republic has built a new
palace, replete with numerous battlements and ogives. The

1900.] A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC. 531

Nuevo Palazzo is very elegant, and its interior and exterior
ornamentation has been done with great taste. The atrium,
with its stone stairway, its heavy timbered ceiling and severe
decoration, has an altogether particular style. The architect,
Azzuri, who drew the plans of the new palace, has evidenced
in the disposition of the halls and rooms, and in the exterior
and interior arrangement of this national monument, an
aesthetic sense which commands admiration. The council hall,
with its monumental fire-place, over which the arms of San
Marino have been reproduced, its mural decorations and Gothic
furniture, are very interesting. This is also called " the throne
hall," a title rather surprising when we refer to matters per-
taining to a republic. But we must remember that the San

LA ROCCA.

Marinesi style their Supreme Council // Principe " The Prince."
The throne here is represented by a very large seat with an
immense back, on which two persons may sit with ease. Noth-
ing could summon up less the monarchical idea than this
solemn-looking bench made to hold two.

After leaving the Palazzo we come to a church of modern
construction ; it is the cathedral, the Pieve. It is composed of
three pieces of building which are separated by architrave
columns. The choir at the end of the large nave is surrounded
by a peristyle of isolated columns. Here is placed the statue
of St. Marinus, the patron of the republic ; it is the work of
the sculptor Taddolini of Bologna, one of Canova's best pupils.
The chief relics of the saint repose on the high altar ; the
other relics have been placed in a crystal vase sealed in the

532 A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC. [July,

wall. Thirteen statues, larger than life, represent our Blessed
Lord and his twelve apostles, and form a pronounced ornament
to the church. These are the work of the Bologna sculptors,
Massimiliano, Putti, and C. Birozzi. But the most interesting
work of art in the Pieve is a Virgin of Guercino the " Virgin
of Nazareth/' one of the beautiful pictures of that master.
Guercino, who died at Bologna in 1666, is also represented at
San Marino by two other notable canvases. One is a study of
St. Marinus clad in the vestments of a deacon and holding in
his left hand the three peaks which figure in the arms of the
republic. The other is a painting in the convent of the Con-
ventuals ; it represents St. Francis of Assisi receiving the
stigmata. These works of Guercino, together with the paint-
ings of Guido which belong to the government, a St. Sebastian
of Spagnoletto, a Christ attributed to Titian, and a large
panel of Giulio Romano which figures in the Museum, com-
prise the artistic wealth of the republic.

The tourist who has visited the Palazzo, the Pieve, and
pauses at the old gates of the city of San Marino, has not yet
finished with the curiosities of the small capital. Let him
ascend to La Rocca, the ancient citadel seated on a mountain
of stone, which lifts from the summit of Titano its square
tower and its battlements with walls crumbling by the action of
the sun. The view from this spot is superb and most pictur-
esque. La Rocca serves as a bell-tower and prison. In its tower
is hung the great bell that announces the meetings of the
Consiglip Principe. The prison rarely has boarders. The
warden of it might well employ his time with rod "and line,
and have no fear of the probabilities of escape. Criminality
has never been high in San Marino. The ancient cells, with
their bedsteads cut out in stone, have no longer tenants. The
condemned are treated now more comfortably than in former
days, having cells of a more modern arrangement. The budget
of San Marino expends ten cents per diem for the mainte-
nance of each prisoner. Convicts and prisoners condemned to
solitary confinement cost the state somewhat dearly. They
could scarcely be confined in La Rocca, and the republic is
obliged to entrust them to Italy, which country, for an in-
demnity of three thousand francs, gives them hospitality in
the prison of Ancona or in a penitentiary. After leaving the
cells, we walk in the galleries of La Rocca and enjoy an in-
comparable view that extends as far as Lombardy and
Tuscany.

1900.]

A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC.

533

The Titano has many curious surprises in store for the
traveller. An " Alpinist " might well give it a place in his
itineraries. He will not regret an excursion which has the
special charm of departing from the ordinary routes mapped
out by guides and the impresarii of round-about journeys. It
would be unfair to leave the capital without mentioning its
theatre, library, and museum. We see clearly that this city of
3,500 inhabitants is not lacking in resources. The theatre is
mainly a concert-hall in which the musical societies may be
heard. If the museum is not rich in paintings, it possesses at
least a curious collection of Hindoo antiquities. The library
contains nearly twelve thousand volumes, and is to be found in
the Palacio Valloni. Yet another palace ! Count Borghesi,
during his different sojourns in the little capital, visited the
library frequently.

We can easily understand the interest and sympathy which
this people commands when we look into its social and politi-
cal life, into what it has created and the reforms which it has
made. This little republic, which is a Christian republic, has
put in practice the
evangelical principle
of charity, and has, in
its own way, solved
the problem of misery.
The sick and poor are
cared for gratuitously.
When any of the in-
habitants become in-
firm and have no re-
sources, they are re-
ceived into a hospital
which is admirably
managed. It is the
state which pays the
fees of the physicians.
The surgeon who re-
sides at San Marino
receives a salary of
$560; the one who
lives at Borgo and the
other at Serravalle are
given the same sala-
ries. The tax-payer PIETRO TONNINI, LATE CAPTAIN-RFGEN'T.

534 A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC. [July,

need have no concern about the veterinary's bills. The state
gives him a salary of eight hundred francs. One would imagine
that the gentlemen farmers of the Titan republic would add
something to this sum when they have sick horses to be treated
and sheep that are afflicted with the scab to be attended.

Though the area of San Marino is very limited, the lit-
tle republic does not count less than nine villages, ten with
Borgo. We have already referred to Serravalle, which has 1,504
inhabitants. This is the most populated place after San Marino.
Then follow Faetano, with 6^9 people; Mongiardino, with 541;
Chiesanueva, with 481 ; Damagnano, with 398 ; Acquaviva, with
352 ; Fiorentino, with 338 ; San Giovanni, with 257 ; and the
hamlets of Poggib, Caselino, Teglio, Casola, and Val Diagon.
Acquaviva owes its name to an abundant spring which flows
from a grotto at this place. Tradition has it that St. Marinus
baptized his first converts to Christianity in this stream.

All the villages have their coats-of-arms : Serravalle has a
tower in its armorial bearings ; Pennarosa, a red feather ;
Faetano, a beech-tree (doro, al faggio sradicato di verde); Borgo,
the three peaks surmounted by three feathered towers of San
Marino, with the device : Libertas. After San Marino, the
Borgo is certainly the most curious village, with its quainl
streets, its clock-tower and' theatre, for, like the capital, the
Borgo has a theatre.

The entire territory of the republic is very rough and
broken ; the tourist is halted at every short distance, but wei
modern progress to change the quaint complexion of San
Marino, as it has done with the streets and winding ways of
Rome, thereby robbing the city of its historic interest, and
build a railway connecting San Marino with Rimini, it would
cause much regret to the tourist and subtract from the plez
ure derivable in the present condition of things.

Are there judges in San Marino ? Yes, but they are takei
from Italy. This is a very wise measure. The State Council
considered that if judges were selected from the inhabitants ol
the republic, they would be hampered in the administration of
their office by personal relations, and would be exposed to
urgent solicitation and extreme trouble on the part of relatives
and friends ; therefore the council chooses the magistrates, wh<
hold office for three years from outside jurisconsults. Th<
Consiglio Principe is master of all that concerns the composi-
tion of the civil tribunal, the correctional tribunal, and th<

A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC.

535

HALL OF GRAND COUNCIL, WITH RETROSI'S FRESCO.

Court of Appeals. The judges delegated by its authority sim-
ply make application of the Codes of San Marino, which are
quite complex. Besides the statute laws, the civil and criminal
codes, the legislation of appeal, the law about the police and
lesser magistrates, and the treaty, as it is called, "of preju.
dice," San Marino has a law dealing with the press. This law
condemns to a fine of two hundred francs anybody who offends
the authorities or professes adhesion to another form of gov-
ernment. The same penalty is adjudged against any person
who manifests a will to disperse the meetings of the council or
to detach any part of territory from the state. The offence
against a foreign ruler is punishable with one year or six
months in prison. It is very doubtful that the authorities of
the republic are ever called upon to apply this law.

San Marino also possesses a Codice Cambiario, a cbde of
commerce which regulates bills of exchange. There was a
time, not so very far back, when justice was administered in
San Marino without the aid of clerks of court or public scribes,
and without the need of the Codice Cambiario which did not
then exist. A story is told of a Venetian who came to the
little capital in 1830 to claim the payment of a sum of money
which had been due him for a long time by a customer in San
Marino. He entered the home of the chief of state. It was
at the vintage-time, and he found the official in his wine depot.
Here the Venetian saw at first nothing but an immense vat,
with the head and arm of a man appearing above it. It was

536 A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC. [July,

the supreme judge quietly trampling on his grapes. The Vene-
tian had never before seen justice dispensed amid such simple
surroundings. But the gown does not make the judge. The
creditor pressed his claim, and the magistrate all the while
continuing to trample his grapes listened to the complaint,,
invited the debtor to present his defence, and finding it insuffi-
cient, condemned him and ordered his house to be sold. The
next day the Venetian was paid. He did not, it seems, find
such expeditious justice at home. A short time after he was-
prosecuting a case before the Venetian cour.t, and exasperated
by the exigencies of form and the slowness of legal procedure,
he exclaimed vehemently : Val pin un pistaduva di San-Marino
che died parucciane di Venezia " One wine-presser of San
Marino is worth more than ten wigs of Venice."

There are few states in the world that are actually out of
debt. San Marino, in Europe, enjoys this privilege, with the
republic of Andorra and the principality of Monaco. Each in-
habitant pays about 25 francs of a tax. The budget of San
Marino reads very favorably : the receipts amounting to 112,500
francs and the expenses to 109,600 francs. The balance is on
the right side. The land-owner has no reason to complain of
being crushed, like his Italian brethren, by heavy taxation ; he
pays little or nothing, for the land-tax is very light. The prin-
cipal indirect taxes are those which are levied on powder, salt,,
and tobacco. In 1872 the republic renounced in a treaty made
with Italy the right of cultivating tobacco. The Italian gov-
ernment agreed to furnish the state at net cost the necessary
quantities of tobacco for consumption. One exception was
made in favor of the Capuchins of San Marino. They are
permitted to plant tobacco and sell snuff to retailers.

How about the army of San Marino? The army figures in
the budget under the appropriation of 8,500 francs (about
$1,700). Everybody at San Marino is a soldier, but professors,
magistrates, students, priests, and public officials are exempt
from military service, which is intermittent and not very se-
vere. The effective force of the army consists of 1,200 men,
of whom 55 are officers and 76 sub-officers. The uniform is of
sky-blue cloth with gold borders ; the epaulets are white and
blue, and the two-cornered hat has plumes for the officers of
the Guardia Nobile. The officers of the militia wear for a
shoulder-strap a sash, also of white and blue. To obtain an
honorable rank in the Noble Guard of San Marino is a distinc-

1900.]

A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC.

537

tion much sought after at all times by the Roman and Tuscan
nobility. The Noble Guard serves as an escort for the sover-
eign council and the regents at all civic and religious feasts.
The republic has also a brigade of gendarmerie, but, as in the
case of the magistrates, the gendarmes are recruited from
places outside of the state, so that " they may fulfil their mis-
sion of severity with perfect independence." These gendarmes
number ten, and they have the largest place in the budget of
the public force.

The republic has made great sacrifices for the cause of
public education. There are numerous primary schools, and
besides there is a college which was founded at the end of
the seventeenth century by the Abbate Ascanio de Giacomo
Belluzzi. This now is the University of San Marino. The
degrees which it con.
fers are recognized by
the Italian universities.

The administration
of worship offers this
peculiarity : the whole
territory, which con-
tains only seven par-
ishes, is placed under
the spiritual jurisdic-
tion of two bishops ;
one part is dependent
on the see of Rimini
and the other on the
see of Montefeltro.
The principal eccle-
siastical dignitary o f
San Marino is the
Archpriest of the
cathedral, who has the
title of " Episcopal
Auditor." The regu-
lar clergy possess four
convents, belonging
respectively to the Minor Conventuals, the Servites, Capuchins,
and Clarissines. The state registries are in the hands of the
secular clergy. Civil marriage is not known in San Marino, and
the records of birth and marriage are written out by priests
who make attestation of them. While European governments

THE CAPTAINS-REGENT.

538 A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC. [July,

have made much ado about the matter of civil marriage, en-
deavoring to rob it of its sacramental character, nobody has
ever complained of the ecclesiastical regulations in San
Marino.

Real progress has been made in the administration of posts.
San Marino has mail service, telegraphs, telephones, but no
letter carriers. It would seem that these mountaineers can get
along without them. People go to the post-office for their
mail, and delivery at houses is a practice entirely unknown.
But if the republic has no mail-carriers, it has stamps, franco-
belli, in color verde, arancio, azzuro, vermiglio, brunocarmino,
violetto, verde-grigio, uliva rosso, all of which are the joy of the
stamp-collectors. Those that were issued on the occasion of the
opening of the new council palace bore a picture of the build-
ing, with the portraits of the two regents.

How do the inhabitants live? What is the industry, what the
business, that supports both state and people, citizen of city
and country? Industries are rare. The working of the stone
and marble quarries which are found on the mountain sides is
a lucrative industry. San Marino also possesses minerals sul-
phur, deposits of tripoli or rotten-stone, and fine plaster used
in the moulding of casts. The farmer cultivates the vine, maize,
and wheat in the western portion of the territory. The vine
attains to the height of twelve feet and produces excellent
wine. San Marino has its own small growths : the white San-
giovese, a lively sparkling wine ; the Sangiovese da parto, a red
wine much similar in taste to burgundy; the moscato of amber
color, and the vino santo, the wine used in state banquets or
grand ceremonies, of topaz color, generous perfume, and som<
what sweetish taste. The vines grow and thrive on the rocks,
in the interstices where the vegetable mould is sufficiently plen-
tiful to nourish the roots, just as, before the ravages of the
phylloxera, matured the vines which produced the wines oi
Cahors in Quercy, which seemed to have the privilege of agini
very much without losing strength, bouquet, or aroma.

These are the chief resources of this small country in which,
if there are not large fortunes, misery is at least unknown. Its
people, healthy and industrious, confiding in a governmenl
which has faithfully applied the principles of Christian democ-
racy, has been able, despite all the revolutions of Italy, to
maintain intact its institutions and develop their national char-
acter during long years of peace and tranquillity.

1900.]

A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC.

539

All the petty states of Italy have their history, a curious
history indeed, abounding in tragic events, sudden convulsions,
intestine wars, and beneficial or disadvantageous conspiracies.
It forms a story incessantly repeated, but as interesting as a
romance. Especially, however, was it in the fourteenth, fif- -
teenth, and sixteenth centuries that the Italian republics, the
small kingdoms and petty principalities, had a romantic history,
replete with the unexpected, in which heroic adventures, at-
tempted by all^sorts of characters, defile, like their living parti-
cipants, before the astonished gaze of the reader. During this
period the republic
of San Marino had
its share in the agita-
tion to which the
whole peninsula was
a prey. The names
of Malatesta, Rimi-
ni, the dukes of Ur-
bino, Caesar Borgia,
Julius II., Leo X.,
the Farnese, and the
Strozzi are to be
found often in its
annals. It also felt
the counter-blow of
the movement which
caused an unheaval
in all Italy, but it
suffered less from it
than the petty
princes of Romagna,
its neighbors. The
republic maintains
its integrity in the
midst of the wars*that desolated Italy. It united to its territory
in 1463 the villages of Fiorentino, Mongiardino, Serravalle, and
Faetano, after having triumphed, with the dukes of Urbino, over
Sigismund Malatesta. For awhile San Marino could believe that
its independence was lost. In the sixteenth century, when Caesar
Borgia, Duke of Valentinois, made the conquest of Romagna, he
established his authority at Forli and Rimini ; he also occupied
Bologna and Ferrara. All around San Marino cities had lost
their freedom, and San Marino had besought in vain the protec-

THE SAN-FRANCESCO GATE.

540 A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC. [July,

tion of Venice. Fortunately for the little republic, Pope Julius
II., when he had overcome Borgia, recalled to their states those
whom the Duke of Valentinois had driven from them. The
Holy See has always protected San Marino, and even protected
it against the machinations of its own legate, Cardinal Alberoni,
in 1739. It sent at this time an ambassador to sign with the
authorities of San Marino a treaty of friendship, February 5,
1740. The anniversary of this happy event is yet the object
of popular rejoicing.

The "Titan Republic" fought valiantly to preserve its in-
dependence and the integrity of its territory, but it has mani-
fested also a great disinterestedness and an admirable love of
justice. Unlike the great Republic of the West, " free America,"
it has ever refused to become larger in extent. Its council
and people are anti expansionists. General Monge, authorized
by Napoleon Bonaparte, made excellent offers of territory to
the Consiglio Principe, and they were declined with thanks.
" Citizens," said Monge, " the political constitution of the peo-
ples that surround you can experience change. If any portions
of your frontier are absolutely necessary for you, I am charged
by the general-in-chief to beg you to take them." " Go back
to the Hero who sent you," answered Antonio Onofri, who was
regent at that time, "and bring to him the free homage of our
admiration and gratitude. Tell him that the Republic of San
Marino, satisfied with the extent of its territory and modest
existence, has refrained from accepting the generous offer which
he has made, and from cherishing ambitious views of aggran-
dizement which might, in the course of time, compromise its
freedom." These were words full of wisdom. It is, in fact,
easy to believe that the allies, after Napoleon's fall, would not
have forgiven the little republic if it had accepted the offers of
France, and most likely would have made it pay with its own
existence for the enlargement of its frontier.

San Marino has been blessed with historians of great worth.
In the first rank we ought to place the names of Melchiore
Delfico, MM. des Vergers, Morin de Malsabrier, Balma, Baron
Astrando, the distinguished consul of San Marino at Nice, who,,
in collaboration with two other writers, has published a verita-
ble encyclopaedia of most interesting matter concerning his
native country.

Speculators have had their eyes on San Marino, and at
frequent intervals have applied to the Consiglio Principe for
permission to establish, as at Monte Carlo, gaming houses.

A CATHOLIC REPUBLIC.

54i

They have offered superb sums of money for this privilege.
The council and regents have invariably refused to entertain
such a proposition. When the promoters of the gambling
scheme were urging their views, the council-fathers addressed
the following proclamation to the people :

" Citizens : It is not material prosperity which supports the
good name of free states, but the great virtue of stern and
sincere republicans ; abnegation which, in poverty, repels riches ;
courage which does not fear to meet danger, and magnanim-
ity which spurns with contempt all that could corrupt the
people and make an attempt on the common weal.

14 Be on your guard against those who do not hold your
opinions. The government is with and for all, and you ought
to be also with and for the government, if we wish to live in
concord and transmit to our children the heritage of freedom
in all its holiness and purity."

Those were spirited, noble words. The beautiful thought of
St. Marinus, Remain free from all human servitude, has been
for this valiant little nation a policy to which it has been ever
faithful. It could truthfully inscribe under its device the words
of Onofiri : In Piccolezza Liberia.

Brooklyn N. Y.

THE SAN MARINO MILITIA.

542 THE RECENT SOLAR ECLIPSE. [July,

THE RECENT SOLAR ECLIPSE.

BY REV. GEORGE M. SEARLE, C.S.P.

was the good fortune of the writer to observe
the recent total eclipse of the sun in connection
with the party sent by the Smithsonian Institu-
tion ot Washington to Wadesboro', N. C., and
to help to some extent in the scientific work of
the party. I had previously been able to co-operate on one
similar occasion in 1869, and was all the more anxious to enjoy
the spectacle, at any rate, even if doing nothing more ; for
the actual view of the grand phenomena of nature always
excepting earthquakes does not satiate one, but rather in-
clines to the renewal of the experience. This is specially true
of total solar eclipses, for it is very difficult to make those
who have never seen one understand at all the splendor and
beauty of them. People will often, and perhaps generally, say :
" What is the use of travelling to see the eclipse ? We have
it pretty well here at home."

The fact is that an eclipse which is only partial, as this one
was at New York or even at Washington, has, we may say, no
similarity to the real totality. Simply, there is a piece taken
out of the sun by the partially covering moon ; the sun is a
crescent, not a circle, that is all. There is a darkening of the
day, of course ; but when we remember that the sun is
600,000 times as bright as the moon, so that when only a
thousandth part of it remains uncovered, we still have six hun-
dred times more light than the full moon gives, it will be
realized that the ordinary partial eclipse is hardly worth look-
ing at. But at -totality, not only is the darkness much greater,
but new sights are seen, much more impressive and wonderful
than mere darkness, which, after all, we have every night.

The path of the totality, in this last instance, ran in the
United States from New Orleans to Norfolk, Va.; but stations
in the Carolinas, Georgia, and Alabama were generally selected
by the scientific parties sent out, instead of the more accessi-
ble one which might have been chosen at Norfolk. The rea-
son for this in itself shows the recent progress of science ; it
being that the careful and systematic records ^kept for this

i goo.] THE RECENT SOLAR ECLIPSE. 543

purpose had shown that the weather at the season of the year
and the hour of the day at which the eclipse was to occur
was more likely to be fair in the middle than at the ends of
the path just named. Wadesboro', in particular, had a specially
good record, and was selected not only by the Smithsonian,
but also by the Yerkes Observatory, Professor Young of
Princeton, and other astronomers, including some from abroad.

In spite of these probabilities, however, the weather, even
in these favored localities, as the actual time approached,
seemed quite unsettled, the sky being often obscured by
clouds ; and I arrived at Wadesboro' on Friday evening, the
25th, in a heavy rain. On Saturday the prospects were still
doubtful.

But on Sunday we had a cloudless sky, giving the best
possible indications, and all were much reassured by a message
from the Weather Bureau, that the probabilities for the next
day were most unusually good along the whole line of totality.
This was certainly a most comforting assurance, for never,
perhaps, had such extensive, and indeed expensive, prepara-
tions been made for the observation of an eclipse ; which even
a flying cloud in front of the sun at the moment of totality
would have made quite worthless. Many of the party had
been there for two weeks or more, putting up tents, and even
erecting buildings suitable for the instruments. It will give
an idea of the magnitude of these preparations to say that the
principal lens with which photographs were to be taken had a
focus of 135 feet. Of course it would have been practically
impossible to mount this in a tube in the ordinary way,
especially as the tube would have to follow the sun in its
diurnal movement through the heavens. A long passage-way
was therefore constructed with a " dark room " at one end,
which we may say corresponded to the plate-holder in the
ordinary case. In this the photographer worked, being there-
fore inside his own camera, and manipulated his plates, which
were of an enormous size, being thirty-three inches square. At
the other end of the passage-way was the lens ; the light from
the sun being reflected into it by a large mirror, which was
moved by clock-work to follow the movement of the sun. The
disc of the sun, in this immense apparatus, covered a circle
sixteen inches in diameter; never had our great luminary
taken such a large original picture of himself before.

It may naturally be asked, why such a big picture of the
sun was needed. Why not take a small one and magnify it

544 THE RECENT SOLAR ECLIPSE. [July*

afterward, as is, of course, continually done not only in scien-
tific work, but in the ordinary business of picture-taking? The
reason lies in the refinement and precision now required in this
kind of work. We have not now to expect great or notable
results from eclipse photography, making themselves manifest
on a first inspection. The general characteristics of the solar
surroundings are now very well known, and it is only by
study of their finer details that our knowledge of them can b<
much advanced. And in magnifying, these details are likely t(
be lost or obscured by the imperfections of our lenses, or ol
the plates on which 'the images are impressed.

My own work was to be done with a battery of cameras
having by no means so long a focus as the one just named, but
carrying plates of the same phenomenal dimensions. Four of
these were attached to an axis turned, as in the case just de-
scribed, by clock-work so as to follow the sun. The longest
had a focus of 11 feet, giving an image of the sun not much
over an inch in diameter. It need hardly be said, therefore,
that the object of these cameras was not to take the detail
of the solar structure itself, but rather to include on their larg<
plates a considerable portion of the sky near the sun. Foi
what purpose was this done ? In order to find, if possible, b]
a long exposure covering the whole duration of totality,
little dot somewhere on the plates which would be the imag<
or portrait of a planet moving round the sun inside of th<
orbit of the nearest known one, Mercury. The probability
were not very good for this work on the present occasion,
the total phase was of short duration, only about a minute an<
a half ; and this being due, of course, to the small size of th<
shadow, it was plain that much illuminated air would be ii
sight, or, in other words, that the sky would be quite bright.
And in fact the sky was so bright that the plates used in this
battery were all more or less "fogged," as photographers say,
by it ; even Mercury itself did not show very well.

There were, of course, plenty of other instruments, parti;
visual or spectroscopic work, and others for measuring th<
solar radiation by means of an apparatus called a bolometei
invented some years ago by the chief of the Smithsonian party,
Professor Langley.

The principal object of all the observations made on ai
eclipse at the present day is to learn something more aboul
the wonderful appendage of the sun called the corona. Every-
thing else about the sun can be studied to some advantage ai

1900.] THE RECENT SOLAR ECLIPSE. 545

all times when the sun itself is visible ; but just as it becomes
covered by the moon at the time of a total eclipse, and when
we are sure that the disc of the sun itself is hidden, suddenly
a ring of softened light is seen round the black circle of the
moon, from which arise long streamers which have different
positions in different eclipses. The ring is called the inner, the
streamers the outer corona ; the glare of the sky utterly
obliterates both at ordinary times, so that it is only during the
few moments of an eclipse that they can be examined. They
look as if they formed, or were due to, an atmosphere round
the moon ; but it is well known now that they are connected
with the sun itself. It was hoped that some additions to our
knowledge concerning this wonderful phenomenon would be
made by the camera or spectroscope on this occasion ; and the
great success of the negatives made with the 135 foot lens
leads us to believe that such will actually be the case.

We had, of course, several rehearsals on the ground on
Saturday and Sunday of the work actually to be done on the
important day. A large bell was procured, and it was arranged
that a signal should be given on it fifteen minutes before total-
ity, to make sure that every observer was ready for duty. One
minute before the total phase five warning strokes were to be
given ; then as the one who was to observe the times of con-
tact noted the disappearance of the last remnant of the solar
disc, he was to signal it by two strokes. Work then was to
begin instantly. There was only ninety-two seconds to do it
in. Eighty-two seconds later, so as to leave a margin for
possible delays, three bells were to be sounded, and work to
stop at once.

The morning of the great day gave us the same cloudless
sky, and it became practically certain that if there was to be
a failure, the weather was not to blame. Every one was, of
course, on the grounds at an early hour, as the totality occurred
at a quarter before nine.

The external or first contact, when the disc of the moon
first impinges on that of the sun, was of course observed, but
rather, it may be said, as a matter of mere routine ; for it is
hardly possible to note the moment when this occurs with
much accuracy, as no perceptible indentation can be seen till
some time after the actual contact, and it is quite plain that
the contact itself could not be noted unless the edge of the
moon could be seen in some other way than by this indenta-
tion.

VOL. LXXI. 35

546 THE RECENT SOLAR ECLIPSE. [July,

An hour now elapsed, interesting, no doubt, to those gener-
ally who were watching the eclipse, and who observed with their
smoked glasses the gradually diminishing sun ; but the astrono-
mers preferred to save their eyes for the minute of totality,
the only one of real importance. At half past eight the warn-
ing bell was sounded, and each repaired to his post. By this
time, of course, the darkness had become quite noticeable, and
though the air was really not much cooler, the sun's direct
rays had evidently much less effect.

Every one having any responsibility expected, I think, to
feel more or less nervous as the decisive moment approached ;
but I did not hear that any one actually was so. At our bat-
tery of cameras we had simply to uncap the lenses when the
bell announced the totality; when it sounded a minute before,
we put our hands to the caps and quietly waited for the sig-
nal. This bell arrangement certainly made every one depend-
ing on it more tranquil, except, of course, those who had to
record the times of the contacts and give the signals.

We did not allow ourselves to look at the sun till the con-
tact bell had sounded and the caps had been removed. Then
we turned, and saw what was well worth going many miles to
see. The moon, which had been visible before merely by the
piece it took out of the sun, was now obvious as a circle,
black as ink, on the dark blue sky ; round it, in a bright
narrow ring, was the inner corona ; and on each side, in the
direction of the sun's motion, stood out a sheaf of rays, single
on one side, bifurcated on the other, and reaching apparently
several diameters of the sun. These rays appeared to me
golden in color ; beyond them on one side the planet Mercury
was easily seen ; Venus was much further away on the other,
near the horizon.

The outer corona, for such these rays were, was of much
the shape that had been expected, being that which experience
shows it usually assumes at times like this, when the sun-spots
are at a minimum, though the reason for this is not fully
understood. Strange to say, it is very faintly visible on the
photographic plates so far as I have seen them, by no means
to. the extent as seen by the eye at the time. This may be
due to the color, if my estimate of that is right.

The rosy prominences on the edge of the sun were not so
conspicuous on this occasion as probably is usual, though
several were easily seen with telescopes, which of course we,
with our cameras to attend to, could hardly use. An opera

1900.] THE RECENT SOLAR ECLIPSE. 547

glass, however, would have sufficed, and I was sorry I had not
brought one.

We had hardly time to take in the prominent features of
the display before three bells sounded, giving warning of the
near approach of the end of totality. We promptly capped
our lenses, and felt certainly a relief in being reasonably sure
that our work, as far as it depended on ourselves, had been
successful. A few seconds later a brilliant ray of real sunlight
shot out, and the long expected event was over.

It had been only a little more than a minute in duration,
but a great deal of work had been done in that short time,
especially by the photographer in the long tube mentioned.
The sound of the changing of his plates had been the only
break to the silence during that interval. He exposed six or
seven, giving them various times of exposure, and the results
were certainly magnificent. Good work had also been done in
the other departments, and the results, when fully developed,
will certainly be of great value.

The shadow bands were noticed, but were not very con-
spicuous. A remarkable observation was made as to the singing
of the birds, which ceased before totality, and began soon
after ; the sparrows being the last to leave off, and the first to
begin. This, I think, can be fairly well depended on, as the
fact was specially noticed by a gentleman of scientific tastes
and training, who has moreover been for many years in the
habit of noticing the habits of birds ; he gave indeed the order
of the cessation and resumption of song for others beside the
sparrows, but their names have escaped me.

I have just heard from Washington that the plates of our
battery which had not been developed when I left have turned
out unexpectedly good, showing stars much fainter than the/e
seemed any reason to hope for when the sky was so bright as
on this occasion ; so it seems possible that an " intra-mercurial "
planet one, that is, inside the orbit of Mercury may yet be
found by a careful examination of these plates, or of others
taken elsewhere. At any rate it gives great encouragement for
the results next year at Sumatra, where there will be an eclipse
six minutes long, and probably quite a black sky.

IN THE HEART OF PEKIN.

THE CRISIS IN CHINA AND THE MISSIONS.

BY REV. A. P. DOYLE, C.S.P.

'HE question of the future of China has become
one of deep interest in view of the recent
manifestations of antagonism against foreign
residents and the apparent inability of the
Chinese government to control its own people.
The chief nations of Europe, it is generally conceded, are only
waiting for a good excuse to convert what are now known as
"spheres of influence" into subjugated territories.

The curtain is about to fall on the terrible tragedy that has
been enacted on the veldts of South Africa, and before these
scenes are completely shut out the signal is given for the
curtain to rise on similar scenes in the Far East.

It did not take much perspicacity to foresee that there was
trouble ahead for China, but very few anticipated that China
herself would be the first to invite disaster and disruption by
herself drawing the sword against the hated foreigner, and
throwing the torch in the midst of -their peaceful dwellings.
It now seems pretty certain that the government has a word
of condemnation for every one else but the " Boxers," and no
small measure of commendation for them in their shocking out-
rages against the missionaries and the native Christians.

IQOO.] THE CRISIS IN CHINA AND THE MISSIONS. 549

China has an area of 4,000,000 square miles, or greater than
all the United States, a population generally put down at
400,000,000, or six times that of the United States, and only
350 miles of railroad, or not one five-hundredth of the mileage
of the United States. This enormous population live in simple
ways, as they are obliged to do. They travel little, as there
are no facilities for going far from home. They are shut in by
a great stone wall from their neighbors, and, what is of far
more consequence, by a greater wall of prejudice against any-
thing not Chinese, from the rest of the civilized world.
Among the various classes there are certain standards of
civilization which make them peace-loving and law-abiding
people, and it is the testimony of merchants who have had
dealings with them that they are as a general rule honest.
They are, however, wedded to their own customs, tenacious of
their traditional ways, and exceedingly jealous of the growing

AN ARCH IN THE GREAT STONE WALL.

power of the foreigners. It is this latter trait that has been
the cause of the late disturbances, with their sanguinary results.
As a military or naval power China is inherently weak ; and
this fact adds a further inducement to the avaricious nations
who sit about her door to assert and maintain their now

550 THE CRISIS IN CHINA AND THE Missions. [July,

A STREET SCENE.

A PEDICURE.

acknowledged rights within the kingdom. Of course the imme-
diate outcome of / the Chinese imbroglio will be that the
nations will insist that the Dowager Empress herself will sub-
due the " Boxers," or, in default of this, they will land their
forces and do the work for her, and insist on the utmost repa-
ration for the damages done.

But, in the meantime, what is of the highest importance to
us is, What will be the outcome of these troubles in point of
view of the evangelization of the kingdom ? The history of
Christianity in China goes back to the days of St. Francis
Xavier. It has been through these four centuries a story of
heroic struggle and marvellous fortitude on the part of the
missionaries and their neophytes. A long roll of martyrs
attests to the superhuman endeavors that were made to plant
the church among these heathen. It has been only within the
last few years that some show of protection and security.has been
secured for the missions by the French government. A treaty
was signed between China and France whereby the Catholic mis-
sionaries were accorded the rank of mandarins, without, however,
any of the governmental authority. The first paragraph of the
treaty reads as follows : " The Imperial Government having au-
thorized for a long time the propagation of the Catholic religion,
and Catholic churches having in consequence been established
in all the provinces of China, we are desirous of seeing our
people and Christians live in harmony. To insure a readier
protection, it has been agreed that the local authorities shall
exchange visits with missionaries according to the conditions
specified in the following articles : 1st, In the ecclesiastical
hierarchy bishops shall be entitled to the same rank and dignity
as viceroys and governors, and shall be privileged to interview

THE CRISIS IN CHINA AND THE MISSIONS. 551

viceroys and governors." This title made the missionaries re-
spected, and secured for them some measure of respect from
the people. As a consequence the missions have thriven.
Monseigneur Favier, the Vicar-Apostolic of Pekin, reporting on
the state of his vicariate in March, 1900, made the following
showing :

" In 1889 the stations numbered 322 ; now there are 577.
Ten years ago there were 34,417 Christians; to-day we number
46,894. In 1889 adult baptisms amounted only to 1,022 ; this
year they number 2,322, of which only 633 were administered
in danger of death. In 1889 there were 1,170 catechumens; to-
day they number 6,506, and if we include those who have ex-
pressed their intention of becoming Christians the number
would exceed 10,000. The annual confessions have increased
from 23,464 to 31,417.

" We made an appeal to the devotion of the Marist Broth-
ers. Ten years ago there were none in the vicariate ; there
are now 18. Thanks to their zeal, a college for Europeans has
been opened in Tien-tsin ; a Franco-Chinese college in the
same city has been confided to them by the municipal authori-
ties. 75 pupils attend. The college in Pekin, together with its
branch, numbers 155 pupils, and has already turned out more
than 50 good interpreters who fill important positions in the
post-offices, railroads, telegraph offices, etc.

" The establishment of the Trappists is not only self-
supporting, but is making steady progress. In 1889 there were
only 3 priests, 6 choir religious, and 22 lay brethren ; the com-
munity now includes a mitred abbot, 5 priests, 18 choir reli-
gious, and 33 brothers. The resources have not increased
proportionately and the monastery is poor.

A STRKET HUCKSTER. A SHOP ON THE SIDEWALK.

552 THE CRISIS IN CHINA AND THE MISSIONS. [July,

" Besides the large institution of the Holy Childhood, which
supports 400 to 500 persons a year, the Sisters of Charity
maintain 2 European and 3 Chinese hospitals and 2 homes for
aged men. They have, besides, a children's hospital and four
dispensaries.

"The congregation of the Sisters of Saint Joseph, composed
of native sisters, numbered 38 members in 1889; now there are
62. Then there were only 4 houses; now there are n.

" In 1889 we possessed 16 large European churches ; we
now have 51. Many of these vie with those in Europe. The
cathedral of the Holy Saviour, in the centre of the imperial
city, was constructed at the emperor's expense, and cost $160,000 ;
the church of Saint Joseph, in the eastern part, cost over
$80,000 ; the old church, in the southern part, was renovated at
a cost of $40,000. The cost of the other important churches
varies from $10,000 to $20,000.

"In 1889 there were 136 minor churches; to-day the vicari-
ate possesses 216. The number of oratories has increased to 272.

"In 1889 the large seminary numbered 12 pupils; the at-
tendance is now 23. The attendance of the small seminary
has increased from 36 to 88. The pupils belong to our best
Christian families ; and if some do not complete the course,
the reason is incompetency or illness. Every pupil supported
by the mission costs $20 a year ; fourteen to fifteen years of
study are necessary for the ordination of a Chinese priest.

"Instead of 2 colleges, we have 5; instead of 135 pupils,
we number 325, most of whom are under our direct charge.
The number of free schools has increased from 153 to 370, the
number of pupils from 2,727 to 5,503."

But the success of the missions only added fuel to the
antagonism of the "Boxers," and while the expressions of
comity were very profuse on the part of the authorities, yet
the Ti-ten-Kiao (Society of the Lord of the Earth) understood
very well that they might pillage and murder, and nothing in
the shape of any condign punishment would be meted out to
them. When complaints are made at Pekin, the invariable re-
sponse is that " orders have been issued to the local authori-
ties to protect all Christians." In spite of these soi-disant
orders the outrages go on, so that to the looker-on it does
seem that there is an implicit understanding between the
"Boxers" and the authorities to persecute and pursue and
wear out the Christians unto apostasy, and thus give a per-
manent set back to the work of conversions.

1900.] THE CRISIS IN CHINA AND THE MISSIONS. 553

THE MINISTERS OF THE STATK.

The outcome of it will be the invasion, if not the ultimate
partition of China. In the meantime Christians will be slaugh-
tered by the score. The massacres of 1870 will be repeated
gain. War with its iron heel will trample down much of the
fruit of the most heroic labor. But we cannot believe that
there will be any element of permanence in this setback.
There are eddies in every great stream, and there is no great

554 THE CRISIS IN CHINA AND THE MISSIONS. [July,

INTERIOR OF A CHINESE HOUSE.

'forward movement but has its set-backs at times. No one can
see the end of a Chinese war, if such is fated to be. Euro-
pean nations, by the logic of circumstances, will be involved
in the conflict. If what are now " spheres of influence" be-
come subjugated territory, how much will our own country be
involved? Treaties with China guarantee to us an " open
door." From a commercial point of view this places us on 2
perfect standard of equality for all time to come with all other
nations. But the guarantee can only be carried out by the
preservation of China as an independent power. It is to ou
advantage, then, to save China and resist the policy of parti
tidn. Our position in the Philippines gives us a coign of vai
tage. With it, and in view of the fact that our commercia
interests are involved, can we keep out of the struggle?

Anyhow, it is evident to the most superficial observer that
we are on the eve of the most tremendous events. Before 1
curtain falls on the lurid drama of war some most important
historical events will have taken place.

1900.] ON A PORTRAIT OF ST. ALOYSIUS GONZACA. 555

ON A PORTRAIT OF ST. ALOYSIUS GONZAGA.

BY D. J. McMACKIN, PH.D.
" Quid hcec ad ceternitatem .?"

[HOU wast not born for earth,

Unblemished lamb !
Thy tender heart from birth
Taught of its blessed dam
To bleat for love of Him,
Chief Shepherd of the spotless Cherubim. -

One only thought is thine

Eternity !
So soon the flame divine

Of love transfigures thee

And makes thy soul below
Of God's reflected radiance aglow.

No earthly crown wouldst thou

Suffer to rest
Upon thy noble brow

Destined to bear the crest

To Christian heroes given '
The glorious aureola of Heaven.

Thine eyes on Heaven thrown

Behold above
Angels wreathing that crown

Of Purity and Love

The brightest diadem
A saint can win in God's Jerusalem.

And now that thou art there

Thou wilt, in truth,
Vouchsafe a ferveat prayer

For me, thy suppliant youth,

Who hope, thro' grace divine,
One day in Heaven to blend my song with thine.

NOTE. The portrait represents the young saint signing away his birthright to crown and
sceptre, both of which are lying at his feet, while his eyes are cast heavenward, where, amid
opening clouds, angels are dimly visible, wreathing an immortal crown. D. J. M.

556 THE REFORMATION OF ECCLESIASTICAL ART. [July,

THE REFORMATION OF ECCLESIASTICAL ART.

have been asked to publish the following pros-
pectus of the American Ecclesiological Society :
The object of this proposed society is to
stimulate the cause of Catholic Art in America
to promote the development of a more worthy
standard and more distinctly Catholic expression in the eccle-
siastical products of Architecture, Sculpture, and the Decora-
tive Arts.'

For the present unsatisfactory condition of American Catho-
lic art many causes might be adduced. The preoccupation of
the church with the great spiritual cares laid upon it by ex-
tensive colonization was doubtless, however, the most potent.
In adjusting her boundaries to a feverishly increasing popula-
tion her edifices were built with a haste and a tentativeness
decidedly unfavorable to noble architectural expression. Re-
moved, too, from the art influence of Europe, an influence
which she herself had largely created, and out of touch with
her own artistic traditions, this preoccupation unhappily
encouraged, in the productions of the various objects of
Catholic art, a mercantile spirit which made for a low artistic
standard.

Fortunately the level of secular art, whose development
was retarded by somewhat kindred conditions, has not been
until recent years so appreciably higher as to constitute a re-
proach. Even within the last ten years, however, art has
grown to be an important factor in American civilization, as is
manifest not only in the tremendous artistic output of the
various arts and crafts, but in the more and more scholarly
standard of taste which it exhibits. Indeed, there are growing
evidences that art is destined to occupy, even in this country,
much of that dignity and influence which it possessed in the
nations of artistic Europe.

In what respect is the church concerned with this movement,
this nascent art of America ?

That art is a great spiritual factor was strikingly demon-
strated by the church itself. When art first throbbed with the
genius of Catholicity, there was created a new force, destined
not only to exercise a tremendous influence upon humai

1900.] THE REFORMATION OF ECCLESIASTICAL ART. 557

thought and sentiment, but to be at the same time a convinc-
ing witness to the sublime mission of the church. Art became
the handmaid of religion. In this higher association her great
faculties expanded to the conception of things more and more
marvellous in their spiritual power and beauty, so that the tra-
ditions of European art are no less a record of great indivi-
dual achievement than they are a witness to the sublimity of
Catholic ideals.

Art is no less a force to-day than it was centuries ago,
nor was the vitality of the church ever greater than it is at
this moment in America. A really vital Christian art would be
a witness to Catholic . faith of peculiar influence in an age of
materialistic thought. The art of America, be it remembered,
full as it is of promise, is yet without a great influence, without
a dominant, motive.

To make of this young art a Christian art, to transmit to
this new and vigorous civilization, and through it to perpetuate
her great artistic traditions, to be here the inspiration and the
abiding genius of American art for all time, this surely is not
the least of the vast opportunities presented to the church in
this country to revive the influence of Catholic ideals upon the
minds and hearts of mankind.

While the work of the proposed society would be generally
directed towards the development of this magnificent influence,
it is not deemed wise, with the conditions which exist, to make
its immediate aims too ambitious. It is thought possible, how-
ever, by inculcating a higher sense of responsibility upon those
who are engaged in the various arts and crafts whose products
are employed by the church, by encouraging them in the pur-
suit of higher ideals, of more traditional standards of art, that
in course of time there may be developed a distinctive Catholic
influence.

As bearing upon the feasibility of organized effort in the
development of such an influence, the success which is attend-
ing a society in Germany with kindred aims is very notable.

This organization was formed some years ago with the
sanction and approval of His Holiness Pope Leo, chiefly for
the purpose of counteracting the strong secular influence upon
Church Art, which was growing more apparent by reason of
the essentially commercial channels through which the various
ecclesiastical objects of art were being supplied. The society,
composed as it is 'more or less equally of clergymen and ar-
tists (amongst whom are many distinguished names), provides

558 THE REFORMATION OF ECCLESIASTICAL ART. [July,

within itself that essential opportunity for greater mutual
familiarity with the ecclesiastical and artistic points of view
without which there cannot be a united purpose or common
understanding.

The proposed society to be formed here is designed to be
similarly constituted, and its promoters have been encouraged
in the hope that it may be similarly successful. Membership
in the organization will be open to clergymen, architects, sculp,
tors, painters, mural and stained glass designers, etc. All those
who feel interested in the aims of the society are invited to
correspond with any of the following, who will be pleased to
accept suggestions of value in reference thereto. The prospec-
tus of the German society above mentioned may be had upon
application.

REV. GEORGE SCHOENER, Rochester, Pa.

MR. CARYL COLEMAN, 3 West 29th St., New York.

MR. CHARLES D. MAGINNIS, Tremont B'ld'g, Boston.

MR. NICOLA D'ASCENZO, 1020 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, Pa.

MR. JOHN F. COMES, 209 Neville St., Pittsburg, Pa.

This magazine is pleased to comply with the request made
to publish the above, inasmuch as the objects proposed arc
very laudable and the means suggested are not without theii
value. Still, we do not wish to be understood as giving th<
project our unqualified approval.

There is no doubt that the growing wealth and refinement
of the people here have given a wonderful stimulus to th(
artistic sense, and have produced some results that are in man;
respects equal to the best, but the advance both in point ol
originality and skill has been made chiefly in secular depai
ments. Art generally follows the genius of a people, and w<
are largely a commercial people. The dominant note in oui
American life is the desire to surround our homes more thai
our churches with that which will refine and elevate. For thii
reason the most striking advances in artistic results have beei
made along the lines of domestic architecture, landscape garden-
ing, the. decorative art as applied to the " house beautiful," an<
painting with a view to adorning the home. All this ii
strikingly in contrast with the ideals of some centuries ag<
when the church dominated the lives of the people and reli-
gious ideas were of paramount importance.

Still, with all the commercialism of America there are dee]
and strong currents of religious life influencing the lives of th(

1900.] THE REFORMATION OF ECCLESIASTICAL ART. 559

people, and in proportion as these work out their results will
the masterpieces of the artistic talent arrange themselves under
religious standards. In order that art may attain its highest
excellence it must not be lured away into money-making or
money-getting channels, but must be dominated by the spiritual
and the religious. All the best and truest art the world has
known has been inspired by religious thought, and has taken
religious ideals as its highest motive.

There can be no doubt that ecclesiastical art has not kept
pace with secular art. While we may attribute this fact to
the lack of religious ideals among a commercial people, or to a
crowding aside of religion in the great striving for easier live-
lihood and better homes, still as the years go by and these
latter objects are attained, the religious ideal will regain its
proper place in the nation's heart.

We may sit down with folded hands and wait for the na-
tional sentiment to return to its normal and healthy condition,
or we may endeavor to force it back by some such artificial
stimulants as the American Ecclesiological Society will provide.

As we study the history of art we find that the age of
special artistic development has grown up about some of the great
masters. It has generally been a man or a group of men who with
striking originality have created schools of art, have educated
the popular taste, have by satire or denunciation strangled in
their inception hybrid forms, and who have become the centre of
a great movement of renovation, of reformation, and of uplift.
Pugin did more by his own personality for the restoration of
ecclesiastical art in England during the last half century than
a dozen artistic societies could do. Keely, in his own measure
and with limited resources, was a tower of strength. There is
another artist in this country who has had unlimited resources
placed in his hand, and who has had the talent to use them to
the best advantage, but in whos career there has been an un-
accountable weakness that has prevented him from leading a
movement, or of placing the impress of his genius on the
character and work of others.

The time is coming when the church, fully equipped for
her work, may without any detriment to souls turn her atten-
tion to the beautifying of the material temple. She will then
demand the larger and more architectural building, she will
call for the highest work of the mural decorator, she will find
place for the most artistic painting on canvas or on glass; in

560 THE REFORMATION OF ECCLESIASTICAL ART. [July,

short, she will give an impetus to all the many arts which now
subserve the beauty of God's temple.

If at the present time the American Ecclesiological Society
will teach artists not to do any cheap work, if it will become
a craftsman's league to crowd out the dishonest worker, if it
will raise the standards of work by refusing its approval to
shoddy creations, it will have achieved a reason for its exist-
ence among the fraternity itself.

The fact also must be admitted that there has been lacking
the best artistic judgment among the church builders in the
priesthood. The simple canons of good art, whether it be of
architecture or of painting or of decoration, ought to find a
place in the curricula of the seminaries. There is scarcely a
priest ordained within the last twenty-five years who has not
had one or more churches to build, enlarge, or decorate, and
to many this kind of labor has become as much a part of their
work as the administration of the sacraments ; but lectures on
art have had no place in their training. Nor has the Catholic
University entered into this work as it should. It has thou-
sands of dollars for botany or Gaelic, but what are botany or
Gaelic alongside the essential art of building good churches
and making the house of God a fitting place for the dwelling
of the Most High. Let the Ecclesiological Society create a
fund that will salary a first-class lecturer on Christian Art, and
send him to the large cities of the country, under the auspices
of the Catholic University, and there lecture to the priesthood
on what good art is and how it can be attained. Such a lec-
turer will very soon cultivate good taste and create such
standards as will sweep away many of the horrid monstrosi-
ties that masquerade in this country under the name of
churches.

The state of ecclesiastical art in this country does give this
Ecclesiological Society a reascn for its existence. But it must
build on broad and deep foundations, so that its badge of
membership shall be a token of distinction. No greater mis-
fortune could befall it than to permit it to be used as an
advertising agency for any class of men. But it must look with
a lightsome eye to the highest ideals of art, and must steadily
refuse to be lured away into narrower paths by the self-seeker.
Under the proper auspices it certainly will accomplish a great
good.

A MISSION to non-Catholics recently given in
the city of Boston was announced as an effort to
dissipate from the minds of the non-Catholics the
false notions they had concerning the Catholic
Church, and to explain in a straightforward way her
teachings. With this purpose in view it was announced also by
the ministers from the various Protestant pulpits. More than
once during the mission the query was dropped into the question
box, whether, if a mission were arranged by the ministers for
non- Protestants, would the Catholic priest announce it from the
altar ? The question was a very natural one to them who
looked on the Catholic Church as one of the many denomina-
tions, but it gave the missionary a good opportunity of ex-
plaining the essential difference between the Catholic and Prot-
estant systems. Protestantism, by its fundamental principle of
private judgment, allows one to seek his own religion, and it is
not in any sense wrong for him to go where he pleases. But
the Catholic system teaches that the church is the divinely in-
spired interpreter of Scripture, that she and she alone has the
commission to teach. Consequently, for a Catholic to go else-
where to unauthorized teachers, he is doing something against
his conscience. It was made very plain, therefore, that a
Catholic priest could not reciprocate the courtesy of the ministers
and announce a mission to non-Protestants without violating
his conscience. This fundamental distinction between the church
and the sects is well brought out by Father Casey, S.J., in his
book, The Bible and its Interpreter? Among many non-Catho-
lics nowadays the Bible has lost all authority. Higher Criticism
has destroyed that old-time reverence for the sacred text, and
to them it makes very little difference what the Bible says.
But with others the old principles remain. Still, as these latter
drift away from the prejudices of youth and education they
realize more and more that an infallible book is of very little

* The Bible and its Interpreter. By Rev. P. H. Casey, S.J., Professor of Dogmatic
Theology in Woodstock College. Philadelphia : John Jos. McVey.
VOL. LXXI. 36

562 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [July,

value if one has not with it an infallible interpreter. The more
the necessity of this latter is emphasized the greater will be the
number of religious souls who will look to the church as the
means of their salvation. For this reason Father Casey's book
is of very great value, and it is hoped that the publishers will
see their way to print this book in paper and disseminate it by
the thousands throughout the country.

Dr. Parsons has just finished, in the publication of his sixth
volume, a series of Studies in Church History* The last volume
discusses questions of modern import. It deals with the reign
of Leo XIII. There have been stirring events within the last
quarter of a century which will have far-reaching consequences
in the corning century. Not within two centuries, at least, has
the Papacy been such a world-wide moral force as it is to-day,
and only through its hand-to-hand conflicts with the powers
of the world has it attained its triumphant place. The story
of Bismarck's " war for civilization," with its attempt to destroy
the Papacy, resulting in his own humiliation, is now old enough
to be viewed in a historical perspective. So too are the rela-
tions of Leo XIII. with the third French Republic, as well as
with the Home-Rule movement in Ireland. But this cannot be
said of some other matters which he discusses. To tie together
with a thin thread of narrative a bundle of newspaper clippings
is not writing history. Dr. Parsons never seemed to us to be
able to grasp in a masterly way the events of any particular
age of the church's history. He never displayed the historical
over-look that a real historian should possess before he begins
to write a review of any particular period of the past. Any-
one can sit down with a lot of books about him and transfer
the mere statement of facts, but to weigh events in their causes
and results, to group the characters of an age in their proper
perspective, to grasp the salient facts of a period and their
relations with facts of another period, this is the work of a
historian. Dr. Parsons does not do this. It is the judgment,
too, of those with whom we have spoken on the matter, that
when one finishes reading Dr. Parsons's review of a period he
rises from the task with only a vague, ill-defined, and nebulous
idea of the period surveyed.

Mother Loyola is endowed with a happy gift of making
spiritual things easy and palatable. She has already demon-

* Studies in Church History. By Rev. Reuben Parsons, D.D. Vol. VI., Century XIX.,
Part LI. New York and Cincinnati : Fr. Pustet & Co.

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 563

strated this in her previous books, and her latest book* confirms
her reputation. As any one who has a bit of experience
knows, it is an exceedingly difficult thing to talk interestingly
to children. Their butterfly minds are away with the slightest
breath of distraction, and to command their attention through
the twenty minutes of a catechetical discourse requires a tact
that is rare. Mother Loyola possesses it even in cold type ;
even when the magnetism of voice and eye and animated face
is absent, she seems to attain her ends by a certain chatty
conversational method that is replete with anecdote drawn from
the most interesting sources and brightened by vivid pen-
pictures. Dr. Stanley Hall, who is acknowledged to be an
expert on child study, once said in substance that he envied
the Catholic teacher because there was in the storied lives of
the saints a vast fund of anecdote and illustration, capable of
enforcing in a very striking way the ethical truths. It is not
so creditable to us that a stranger should have to point this
out. Mother Loyola has discovered this rich mine, and has a
keen eye to the gems that may be polished for current use.
Her books will prove a boon to many young priests, and
sisters too, who have the duty of preparing children for Con-
firmation and Holy Communion.

A manual for the schools should be very carefully compiled
from the best sources of information, and should exhibit no
trace of partiality or prejudice. Such a book should as nearly
as possible approach to the character of the " old almanac "
which Lord Plunket so finely described history to be ; that is to
say, events should be narrated with the indifference with which
the days, months, and seasons are presented in an almanac ;
and boys should be allowed to form their estimates of public
characters from their acts instead of from the moral conscious-
ness of the compiler. In his preface f the author expresses an
opinion different from ours; he says, "The mere committal to
memory of the names of kings and isolated events, however im-
portant, is in no proper sense a study of history'' He does
not see that admitting the importance of names and events
surrenders his whole position, admits our view because such a
book as his is not intended for what he emphasizes as the

* The Soldier of Christ ; or, Talks before Confirmation. By Mother Mary Loyola, of
the Bar Convent, York, author of First Communion. Edited by Father Thurston, S.J.
New York, Cincinnati, and Chicago : Benziger Brothers.

t A Manual of English History for the use of Schools. By Edward M. Lancaster. New
York : American Book Company.

564 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [July,

study of history ; it is only meant as a preparation for the
study of history, the compendious presentation of the raw
material on which the study of history that is to say, the
scientific correlation of causes and effects is to be based.

"" The most valuable lesson to be learned by American
youth from the history of the mother country is the worth of
liberty* civil and religious"; and he proceeds to decide on
what he calls "the struggle between the king and the people"
in the reign of Charles I. as if the matter in controversy could
be settled by his ipse dixit. We can assure our readers that
the contention between prerogative and popular demands
"natural rights" is Mr. Lancaster's phrase for the latter is
the conflict between moral and political forces not easy to
weigh in themselves and complicated by constitutional usages,
principles, and enactments to a degree that divides legal and
philosophical judgment into opposite camps. Turning to page
179, at which and in a page or two following it he gives a
short retrospect of what he regards as a continued constitu-
tional struggle between king and people leading up to the
conflict of those powers in the reign of Charles I., we find
errors of judgment of a far-reaching character. It is not true
that "mediaeval civilization rested on the feudal system";
the feudal system was a camp like the military government of
Germany now, but the influence of the church leavened it with
moral ideas sanctioned by the judgment of God, which is no
respecter of persons ; and the civilization of the time came from
this leavening and the energetic teaching of the trivium and
quadrivium. There is much correctness in his view that at
the time of the accession of the House of Tudor 4< the nobility,
land-owners, and moneyed classes, remembering the levelling
doctrines of the socialists, looked to the throne to protect
them from another peasant revolt." These were the doctrines
of the Wycliffites or Lollards ; they were the theories that led
to this very revolt, and they are the principles which Mr.
Lancaster and men like him consecrate by their term " the
first Reformation."

So much for the errors of judgment on the early stages of
the conflict between the crown and the people, of course
nothing short of a large treatise would suffice for even moder-
ately fair consideration of the matter; and now we close this
part of the notice by saying he misrepresents the opening of
the quarrel between Charles and the people over the grant of

* The italics in each instance above are the authors.

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 565

tonnage and poundage.* If Charles were as meek as Moses,
as patient as Job, he had ground for anger at the practical
refusal of the grant. The grant had been made as a matter
of form and for life to every one of his predecessors since
Henry VI. The charges for the equipment of the navy alone
amounted to 300,000 we are not sure what is the present
value of that sum, but it cannot be less than .2,400,000 ;
there was a debt, mostly private, of 700,000, left by James
I. altogether a sum nearly nine millions sterling of our
money confronting the young king on his accession, and the
Commons only voted two subsidies, equal to 150,000, for
the war which they themselves had forced him to engage in.
The Parliament was always in luck in its wrangling with
Charles even in this, the outrage of the vote on the tonnage
and poundage for he had to adjourn it owing to the plague, f
thereby leaving it victorious in the quarrel.

Mr. Lancaster's account of the " contest between church
and state " in the reign of Henry II. is, as we expected,
unfair. The men who talk most of personal liberty, rights of
man, religious opinion, like the exponents of such ideas in
France, favor the freedom of the prison, the rights of the
shambles, the proscription of God. We quoted from Mr.
Lancaster that the lesson to be learned from English history
is the worth of civil and religious liberty. This is not the
lesson from any history ; civil or religious liberty is a means
of benefit, not an end. He tells us Henry II. devoted himself
to two distinct ends : " the establishment of order and the
correction of the abuses of the church." If he employed
accurate language, he would have said these were steps towards
the carrying out of Henry's policy. To judge of this reformer
properly, we must see him as he was seen by his contem-
poraries. He was facetious, agreeable, eloquent, dignified, and
affable, as became a prince and a gentleman; but he had no
honor, no truth, no conscience. He justified the violation of
his promise or his statement of a falsehood by the maxim :
Better to repent of words than of facts ; to lie than to fail
in one's object. He degraded the nobility, marrying their
heiresses to low hangers-on. :{; He gnawed the straw on the

* We do not know why Mr. Lancaster speaks of "certain life customs," instead of the
grant of tonnage and poundage, unless he is ignorant of the origin of the grant ; but this
knowledge has a bearing on the constitutional question.

t Twelve hundred persons had died in London in the preceding week.

\ Servis. We do not think it means serfs, as the words " pedaneae conditionis " are re-
lated to it.

566 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [July*

floor where he threw himself in a rage, as when Humet, a
favorite minister, made a plea for the king of Scots. His fury
was that of a wild beast, his vindictiveness was insatiable,
though it could be hidden by an appearance of friendly regard
sufficient to deceive the most suspicious minds. So much for
Henry.

We have not the space to enter into an examination of Mr.
Lancaster's statement concerning other relations of Thomas a
Becket and Henry II., nor his allegation that " Becket at first
accepted, then rejected the Constitutions of Clarendon," still
less of his implication that the principal business " decided "
this is his word by the Council of Clarendon was " that law-
breaking priests on conviction in the church courts" "should
be stripped of their orders and turned over to the civil authorities
for punishment." We regret this because the matter mentioned,
so far as it described a ground of complaint, was only a small
part of the resolutions of Clarendon, and sprang out of the
case of Philip de Brois, a canon of Bedford,* who had had a
furious altercation with the king's judge, Fitz-Peter, for what he
deemed an insult. Henry took up his judge's case as the
motive for his design to destroy the liberties of the church.
We should like to deal with the question of jurisdiction, and
the conduct of St. Thomas in the controversy with Henry on a
future occasion. We had thought friends of liberty would be
on the side of the archbishop, but we remember Madame
Roland's words.

In many respects the Life of St. Mechtildis f is a charming as
well as an edifying volume. For many it may well be a pleasing
introduction to the inner life of a Benedictine convent of the
middle ages. In the lives of such saints as Mechtildis and Ger-
trude there is evident the sweetening, purifying, and elevating
effect of the " Pax Benedictina." These holy religious knew and
appreciated properly the spirit of their father St. Benedict ; their
lives are what we may imagine he would have considered the ideals
for his spiritual daughters. Peace, above all things ; quiet devo-
tion to the daily rule ; loving attention to prayer, particularly the
holy office ; sweet charity to those without, and loving harmony
of spirit with those within the spiritual family ; these are the
ordinary characteristics of the life of these Benedictine nuns.
But in Mechtildis and Gertrude there seems to shine forth a
particularly angelic virtue of recollection and union with the

* Huic controversial praestitit occasionem Philippus du Brois : Diceto p. 537.
t The Life of St. Mechtildis. St. Louis: B. Herder.

1 9oo.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 567

Divine Spouse ; they are hardly of the earth, their conversa-
tion is indeed in heaven ; the Beloved of their souls seems to
speak with them as familiarly and as constantly as though he were
theirs alone, as they are his alone ; over all that they say and
do there abides a supernatural sweetness. It is for giving one
a taste of this beautiful spirit that this book is valuable. It
can hardly be truly called a Life of St. Mechtildis, for the
Abbess Gertrude, the sister of Mechtildis, and St. Gertrude, her
dearest friend, have an almost equally important place in its
pages ; and even the character of St. Mechtildis must be rather
inferred from the life she led and from the revelations granted
to her, than from facts from her life, for these are compara-
tively scarce and uninstructiye. This the writer seems to have
recognized, for we have been given an abundance of quota-
tions from the revelations of Sts. Gertrude and Mechtildis and
from the convent records. It is a pleasing work, fairly well
arranged and neatly gotten up.

I. FATHER GIGOT'S INTRODUCTION TO HOLY SCRIPTURE.*

A better book wherewith to begin the study of the Bible
than Dr. Gigot's Introduction to Holy Scripture it would be
difficult to imagine. The book is the gist of lectures delivered
before a class, and so has a practical value which works of a
similar class frequently lack.

The general arrangement of the book is good. One topic
leads to another in a natural and logical way while, at the
same time, each is treated distinctly by itself without lapping
over on the next. Moreover in almost every case the treat-
ment of the various topics is quite adequate. The only excep-
tion, indeed, might possibly be in the reasons given for the ac-
ceptance of the deutero-canonical books. The great difficulty is,
of course, St. Jerome's opposition to the books not found in
the Hebrew Scriptures ; an opposition particularly noteworthy
from the fact that he alone of the Fathers unless, perhaps,
Origen was acquainted with Hebrew. This is an argument
greatly used by Protestants. It is enough for Catholics to
know that the African bishops and Innocent I. upheld the
books in question, but to meet our opponents other arguments
are necessary. And our students must be taught whether or
not they can satisfactorily refute such objections.

* General Introduction to the Study of the Scriptures. By Rev. Francis E. Gigot, S.S.
New York : Benziger Brothers.

568 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [July,

As to Dr. Gigot's chapter on the Vulgate, nothing could
be more entirely satisfactory. It is admirably written, and
gives in a short compass an excellent account both of the ver-
sion itself and of the church's position in the matter a posi-
tion frequently misunderstood even by Catholics themselves.

Again, the chapter on the Septuagint is most excellent.
Both the defects and the merits of that version are fully set be-
fore the reader, and he is made to feel how important a part the
work of the Seventy has had in biblical history. As to-day
scholars are inclined to give greater weight to the Seventy than
perhaps ever before, a clear understanding of this text is
necessary for every biblical student. Such an understanding
could be gained nowhere better than by a careful study of
Dr. Gigot's criticism.

Dr. Gigot also gives scholarly criticism of various English
translations, and what he has to say of the Douay version
and the King James is especially commendable. Nothing can
be more evident than his effort to be thoroughly honest and
fair-minded.

The author's treatment of the difficult matter of inspiration
deserves much praise. While refusing to commit himself to
any theory, he gives a clear statement of the Catholic and
Protestant positions in the matter. But it is not wholly adequate.
On page 552 he lays down reasons for believing inspiration
should extend beyond matters of faith and morals, yet he does
not make it evident that relative truths, such as scientific and
historical statements, are also matters of inspiration, being true
to the authors, although taken formally and in themselves not
true.

Something should be said as to the admirable temper which
Dr. Gigot brings to all his discussions. As his book deserves
to be really called scientific, so his way of approaching and en-
gaging in these matters of controversy is scientific too. He is
so sane, so sensible, so dispassionate in all that he says, that to
read his book for that reason alone is a pleasure. And just
because of this control over himself the reader feels, and may
well feel, a confidence in Dr. Gigot's statements which no
amount of bluster and heated denunciation of opponents could
possibly beget.

Finally, the make-up of the book is most creditable to the
Messrs. Benziger. The paper is good, the type is clear and
bold, -and the binding shows taste. All goes to make up a
worthy dress for a scholarly and finished work. To-day when

1 9oo.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 569

heresy has forced Catholics, especially in this country, to know
where they stand and explain their belief as to holy Scripture,
it is a great thing to have such a book written as this. It is
good news that this, moreover, is only the beginning, for Dr.
Gigot has two other volumes underway special introductions
to the Old and New Testaments. Without doubt they will be
as scholarly, sound, and sensible as this, the general introduc-
tion.

2. LIFE OF MOODY, THE EVANGELIST.*

In October, 1874, when Mr. Moody was preaching in Dub-
lin, Ireland, a Catholic paper printed an article entitled " Fair
Play," in which the editor said : " The deadly danger of the
age comes upon us from the direction of Huxley, Darwin, and
Tyndall, rather than from Moody and Sankey. Irish Catholics
desire to see Protestants deeply imbued with religious feeling
rather than tinged with infidelity."

In this spirit, therefore, of one who loves to see a human
soul on fire with zeal for God, a Catholic can read the life of
Dwight L. Moody and be moved deeply with the same enthu-
siasm of religion that moved thousands of souls to forsake their
lives of sin and devote themselves to a right conscience with
God under the spell of his powerful personality and pleadings
for faith. It is refreshing at all times, and especially in this
superficial and artificial age, to come in contact with a genuine
soul ; a nature so sincere, so simple, that it seems a mirror of
nature herself fresh, like the spring-time ; breathing perfumes
of flower and grass, yet played upon and swept by forces of
wind and storm, that one may easily compare it with a summer
landscape in the throes of a tempest.

The book has nearly six hundred pages, and to any one in-
terested in a strong biography and a religious theme there
would be hardly a dull page. Indeed, the story moves through
such stirring scenes, graphically pictured, and presents so many
noted personages in many lands, that the reader seems to be
witnessing a powerful drama, with historical characters as the
players.

Moody was a farmer boy in Northfield, Mass. His widowed
mother could not well provide for a family of nine children,
and in 1854, at the age of seventeen, he went to his uncle's
shoe-store in Boston. Two years later, looking for a larger
field, he went to Chicago and again followed the shoe busi-

* Life of D. L. Moody. By his Son, W. R. Moody. New York : Fleming H. Revell Co.

57 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [July,

ness this time prospering beyond his expectations. Doubtless
his energies and thrift would have quickly made him a rich
man had he so desired, but his religious nature at this time
became so awakened that he spent every spare moment gath-
ering the waifs of the streets where they could be fed and
clothed and taught religion. This work was the turning-point
of his life. By and by he abandoned all secular business and
devoted himself entirely to religious work.

He called upon the then Bishop of Chicago during these
early labors, and he said to Moody :

" Your zeal and devotion are most commendable ; all you
need to make you a great power for good is to come within
the fold of the only true church."

" But," replied Moody, " I could no longer work among
Protestants." The bishop assured him that he could ; that he
could pray with Protestants as much as ever.

" Would you, bishop, pray with a Protestant ? "

"Yes, I would."

" Well, then," replied young Moody, " I wish you would
pray for me now that I may be led aright in this matter."

They knelt in the hall where they were standing and prayed.
They 1 were life-long friends thereafter.

Many Catholics who knew and loved Mr. Moody may per-
haps have wondered why so religious a man was never attracted
to the Catholic faith. The answer is doubtless to be discovered
in many of his published sermons, where he avowed such strong
repugnance to all bonds of faith made by creed or dogma.
He believed that a simple promise to be loyal to Christ was all-
sufficient.

Mr. Moody had a Catholic friend named Healy, who painted
a valuable portrait of him, and when the Chicago fire destroyed
nearly everything he owned, at the request of his wife this
painting was saved by him. He humorously described his em-
barrassment at marching away from the fire with this picture,
by imagining his friends meeting him and saying : " Hello,
Moody, I 'm glad you Ve escaped. What 's that you are cling-
ing to so affectionately." " Oh, I Ve got my own portrait."
The portrait now hangs on the walls of the family home in
Northfield.

In 1872 Mr. Moody was invited to preach to some congre-
gations in England. There was begun those remarkable meet-
ings in halls and rinks which, in Great Britain and America,
spread over a period of nearly thirty years, and enabled him to

i QOO.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 571

exhibit his marvellous power over the hearts and wills of men
which has hardly been equalled in the history of English-
speaking people. It has been said, and there is little doubt of
the truth of it, that he had preached to audiences of over one
hundred million people in those active years. Of course his
audiences were almost always composed of Protestants, although
his genius for pulpit eloquence drew even Jews and Catholics
to hear what they had so constantly seen described in the
public press. Not the least of the gifts of this remarkable
man was his financial shrewdness. He raised and spent fifty
thousand dollars during the summer of the World's Fair, for a
series of religious meetings in Chicago, and every year he was
obliged to raise a hundred thousand dollars to support the
two schools he had founded in Northfield and the Bible Insti-
tute in Chicago. This he did for ten or more years ; besides,
the Gospel Hymn-book which he used in his meetings re-
paid to his enterprises, in royalties, orer a million dollars..
Perhaps it is not too much to say that he collected and spent
in his forty years of religious work three or four million
lollars.

His prevailing qualities were tireless energy, amazing com-
mon sense, unquestioning faith, and a human sympathy rarely
equalled. These qualities, on fire with enthusiam and mar-
shalled with the brain of a military general, made him a power-
ful leader of men. Protestantism has lost its best apostle, and
in the death of Mr. Moody there is a conscious halt in its
forces.

Mr. Moody in the closing years of his life called upon the
Archbishop of New York. He was preaching at Cooper Union
himself, and his large audiences led him to think that if the
Catholic people would only hold simultaneous services New
York might be shaken with religious fervor. This was the
purpose of his visit. The Archbishop explained to him the
system of missions pursued by the Catholic Church, and showed
him how it was constantly doing what the Protestant churches
did only occasionally. An hour was spent in conversation, but
the only result was a friendly intercourse. Ever on the edge
of the church, numbering among his friends many Catholics,
zealous for the Christian religion, the life of Mr. Moody, spent
in the service of God according to his conscience, but never in
the fulness of the Holy Catholic Faith, marks one of those
shining examples of the mysteries of the grace of God which
can only be fathomed in the world beyond.

ONE would imagine from reading the daily
press that the only missionaries in China are the
American Protestant missionaries. A little refer-
ence to fact will easily show that all through the Chinese
Empire the Catholic Church is not only well established and
thoroughly organized, but is doing a most efficient work in the
way of convert-making. In the Pekin district alone, where the
war is now going on, the priests heard last year 31,417 con-
fessions and received 6,506 converts. It is interesting to note
that there is a community of the Sisters of St. Joseph, with
4 houses and 62 native Chinese sisters.

St. Louis is making a doubtful preparation for the enter-
tainment of visitors to the World's Fair next year. It once
had the reputation of being a well-governed city, but the dis-
graceful lawlessness associated with the street car strike will
make it difficult for it to regain its good name. Ever since the
present mayor assumed the reins of office there have been ex-
tended to the law-breaker the most blatant immunities from
punishment. The upright citizens have protested against the
wide-open policy under which saloons and wine- rooms and
places of vice flourished without any restraining hand, but
politics stood in the way and very little heed was given to
these protests. A headlong scramble for the ruling hand dur-
ing the fair year will probably result in completely damaging
the prospects of a successful fair.

A hundred million has been spent by one of the most en-
lightened nations to crush out the spirit of independence from
the hearts of a liberty-loving people in South Africa, while the
wails and cries of distress from the thousands who are dying
in India are unheeded. Yet this is the close of the nineteenth
century, and the echoes of the Peace Conference at the Hague
have scarcely died away. If one-tenth of England's millions
were spent for bread in India, the cries of starving children
would have been hushed and the agonies of dying wretches
would have been averted.

1 900.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 573

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

MONSIGNOR CONATY opened the exercises of graduation day by review-
ing the work of the year, which was the beginning of the second decade
of the existence of the Catholic University. He alluded to the Association of
Universities and the Conference of Catholic Colleges as evidences of the educa-
tional positions of the University. He compared the early years with the
present, and showed that, notwithstanding the difficulty of admission owing to
the requirements for graduate work, the attendance of students had been
larger than ever before. Monsignor Conaty continued in these words :

The University has been encouraged in its financial efforts during the year
by the magnanimous action of Archbishop Keane, my worthy predecessor.
With a single-mindedness and devotedness which have never been surpassed,
or, I may say, equalled, he has accepted the burden of laboring for the com-
pletion of the endowment fund, the foundations of which he so successfully
laid several years before.

The organization of the University is now a very vast one, its work very
complicated, the burdens of every day demanding close attention from those in
charge of the administration. To complete the organization, to perfect it in
matters of detail, to watch and care for its improvement and development, de-
mands the close attention of the rector, and it is truthful to say that in its pres-
ent condition it may be satisfactorily compared with any other institution. Be-
fore passing fronvthe financial outlook, I may mention that among the features
of the year's work figures the gift of $50,000 by Mr. Michael Cudahy, of Chicago,
a member of our board of trustees ; the establishment by New England of the
Archbishop Williams chair, and by St. Louis of the Archbishop Kenrick chair,
each intending to be a gift of $50,000. Besides these, several individual gifts
of $5,000, and several for smaller amounts, have been received by Archbishop
Keane for the general endowment. Following the example set by the Total
Abstinence Union of America and the Ancient Order of Hibernians, the
Knights of Columbus are about to endow a chair of American history, and the
Catholic Knights of America a chair of English literature for a similar sum.
This gives a brief outline of the financial effort made by the University during
the year.

It is not necessary for me to emphasize how successfully the University
has attempted to realize its ideals. In the mind of the great Pontiff who gave
to it the authority of the church in its constitutions, it was destined to be a
centre of educational force along the lines of higher studies in all the fields of
knowledge. It was to build itself upon the truth, as made known to us through
the Church of God. It was to be a teacher of sound doctrine, thoroughly
loyal to the best traditions of the church, unflinching and unwavering in its
fidelity to Catholic doctrine, and steadfast in its devotion to the Holy See. It
has aimed at the building up of a body of learned priests and learned laymen
who, in church and state, would be prepared to defend the interests of truth.
It has not only offered the opportunities for specialization which the age de-
mands in scholarship, but it also seeks for that result by which the church may

574 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [July,

not be lost in the seeker after minutiae. The University should stand for that
scholarship which is expressed in the general culture which forms the gentle-
man and the scholar. This culture is not merely to be found in a specialist,
but which, as has recently been said, is the foundation upon which specialism is
to be built. The well-trained faculties of a university give the students the ad-
vantages which come through scholarly teachers, who will develop in them
their tastes for higher study.

This institution prides itself on the fact that it offers as the basis of its in-
struction a sound philosophy with nothing uncertain and no vagaries. Here is
taught Christian philosophy, which makes all sciences realize that they are
built upon the truth, linking all sciences together as part of the harmonious
whole, showing the relations of all things with the great centre truth of God.
The world of scholarship to-day, outside the church, is suffering from the lack
of sound philosophy. It has lost the meaning of soul and immortality, it has
removed itself from all ideas of the supernatural, its salvation is in the return
of the truth as made known to us through Christ. This University, this Catho-
lic University, looks to the great St. Thomas as its instructor in sound philoso-
phy. It prides itself on being associated with the best traditions of educational
life in the great university system of the past. It stands on the hill-top of high-
est endeavor; its doors open to all men who, with character and ability, seek
knowledge. The Cross is its illumination, the Church its mother, Christian
scholarship its teachers, and truth its goal. Here in the capital of the nation it
gives forth its lessons of light and life to mind and heart, believing that truth
which illumines intellect will also purify heart, and that with loyalty to God
there may be loyalty to country.

* * *

The Fenelon Reading Circle of Brooklyn held a recent meeting at the
Pouch mansion. Professor Edward B. Shallow, of the Board of Education, ad-
dressed the members on National Character in the Light of Education. The
educational systems of ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome were explained and
their effects on the character of the individual as well as on the nation. Coming
down to modern times the French and German systems were contrasted, the
latter with its practical training of the hands as well as the head being held up
for our admiration and imitation. Surely the German idea of giving every
man a trade a mechanical trade is an excellent one. Mr. Shallow depre-
cated our present system in this country of cramming ologies and ometries in-
discriminately into the children of the masses, ninety out of a hundred of
whom need a practical technical training of their hands to some employment
by which they would earn their living. He also suggested to the Fenelon, and
to woman clubs in general, that they devote some of their time and energy and
funds to the establishment of public kindergartens, where the children of the
poor could be gathered in and taught, even from their infancy, as children can
be taught to observe and compare and construct. A good point, and one
much appreciated, was his reference to the great Archbishop Fenelon, who,
long before Froebel and Pestalozzi were born, advised and directed the in-
struction of little children, even in the cradle, guiding them as rational be-
ings to the love of the beautiful and the true.

The closing meeting of the Fenelon Reading Circle was a distinctly busi-
ness gathering and there was no social programme for the afternoon. The
business of the year was finished up by the reading of two papers on Catholic

1900.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 575

authors, which was the study taken up at the first meeting in October Last.
The papers were read by Miss Julia Brady, whose subject was the Rev. John
Talbot Smith, and by Miss Carey, on Mrs. Sadlier. The Rev. J. P. McGinley,
the director of the Reading Circle, was in attendance. The question of es-
tablishing kindergartens in the congested districts of the borough, under the
direction of the Fenelon Circle, was discussed at some length. This matter
was recommended to the attention of the circle by Assistant Superintendent
Shallow, of the Department of Public Instruction. The result of this discussion
was the voting by the members to have a committee appointed to fully study
the question as to the advisability of the society assuming the responsibility of
the establishment of kindergartens and the expenses that it would be necessary
to incur. The committee appointed by the president consisted of Mrs. Francis
Fannon, Mrs. John Griffin, Miss Sara Read, Miss Sarah Dunne, and Miss Julia
Brady.

Father McGinley announced that Egyptology would be the subject of the
study for the next year. He also thanked the members for their close study of
the subject of the closing year and congratulated them on the success that they
had attained. It was announced by Mrs. Lonergan, the president, that the first
meeting for the new year would be held on the first Tuesday in October, which
would be made one of the social events of the society.

The legal education of women was discussed by the Social Science Associa-
tion at the meeting held in Washington, D. C. Mrs. Isabella M. Pettus, assis-
tant lecturer in New York University, presented some interesting particulars in
her paper. She stated that women appeared before the courts of ancient
Lome in some instances, although the privilege was soon taken away from
icm ; but, long before the Christian era, Deborah sat as a judge in Israel. In
Spain and Italy, in the middle ages, women filled professors' chairs in letters
ind in law, lecturing in the great universities and receiving doctors' degrees in
law. It was reserved for Switzerland in this century to exclude from the prac-
tice of law a woman to whom her own university had given the doctor's degree,
under the code requiring all persons representing third parties in her tribunals
to be electors. In most of the countries of the world women have ruled as
sovereigns, but even in France and other kingdoms under the Salic law women
were regents, and ruled during long minorities.

Austin Abbott said : Some study of the law is of prime importance in the
complete education of every human being. Legal study tends to make the
mind more reasonable, consistent, logical, and well balanced. These qualities
are as needful to women as to men. Therefore, because women are equally
under the law, as they own and control much of the wealth of the world, and
as they are, by the circumstances of modern life, a factor in the business world,
all women should know the law, not for practice, for that is only for the few,
but to fit them for the activities about them and to help them to use wisely
what they own.

What, then, are the provisions for their obtaining such education in law as
will suffice for their new opportunities ? At the opening of the present century
no college was open to them ; now they enter our great institutions of learning,
in many cases on an equal footing with their brothers. Sometimes they emerge
rather in advance, as was the case at the last Exercises of Buffalo Law School,

576 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [July, 1900.]

when a woman took the highest honors and was graduated at the head of her
class.

Oberlin, in 1833, was the first to open her doors to women students; but
the earliest dates accessible in the field of law are that Iowa University ad-
mitted them in 1868, Michigan in 1869, Boston Law School in 1872, California
in 1873, Missouri and Illinois in 1880, and other States in quick succession,
while in our great Western States the law schools from their foundation have
been open to women students. In the Empire State Cornell led the way in 1888,
but New York University followed in 1890, and has graduated fifty women with
the degree of bachelor of laws, ten of whom have taken later the master's de-
gree. Illinois has the largest roll of names of women admitted to her bar, for
eighty-seven women lawyers have come from that State.

Even in the more conservative Southern States the way has opened four
States admit them to the bar and to the law schools. A woman, Mrs. Has-
kell, of Helena, Mont., secured the passage of a law in that State, in 1889, per-
mitting women to practise law. Wisconsin has had a woman lawyer for twenty
years, Miss Angie J. King. In Wyoming Miss Grace Heberd, trustee of
Wyoming University, was admitted to the bar last year.

There is in New York a Women Lawyers' Club, of which Miss Loew is
president, and Miss Philbrook, of New Jersey, is secretary. There are about
t-venty members, and the society meets regularly for social and professional
exchange of ideas.

Boston has a Portia Club, and Chicago a League of Women Lawyers,
while there is also a National Association of Women Lawyers, membership in
which is limited to those in practice for five years for themselves. Miss O'Neill,
of Connecticut, is in her father's law firm. Miss Listhardt, of Colorado, is
successful. Miss Miller, of Chicago, edits The Forum, and one of the best
legal journals in the country was founded and edited for years by Mrs. Brad-
well, whose husband carries it on since her death, keeping her name as founder.

Women have not been slow to profit by their opportunities for legal edu-
cation, and many have studied law for culture who will never practise in the
courts. One of the main factors in popularizing the outline study of law has
been the Woman's Law Class of New York University, which gives a business
course of law to non-matriculants and furnishes them with a text-book which
is now entering its third edition. With the impetus given to the sttidy of law,
in the development of statutes enabling women to hold property and act for
themselves, such a course is of high value, and college presidents who have be-
come familiar with the work of this class do not hesitate to commend it as
desirable in all institutions of learning. Six hundred women have taken this
course. While women lawyers have not increased to an alarming extent, they
are yet numerous enough to prove that legal education is for women as for
men, and that, given the opportunity, the woman will embrace it as quickly as
she may.

M. C. M.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXXI. AUGUST, 1900. No. 425.

THE SANCTITY OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA.*

'OTORIOUSLY it is easier to define species than
to classify individuals. So too, in the spiritual
world, we find that men may settle upon an
abstract definition of sanctity, and yet remain
quite undecided as to the justice of this or that
man's claim to be considered a saint. Though all concede
readily that the essence of sanctity lies in the perfect corre-
spondence of a human will with special graces presented by
Almighty God, still, in the recognition < and acknowledgment
of individual saints, judgments vary considerably. Those whom
the church's official pronouncement places upon the Kalen-
darium, every Catholic, and indeed every man of sense, will
unhesitatingly accept as deserving of such honor. But never-
theless, even while acknowledging the unerring wisdom of the
church's choice, men's minds will differ as to the comparative
value of various titles to sanctity. Indeed, not infrequently we
find very pious persons indulging in what seems to be an at-
tempt to excuse and vindicate the official verdict of the Hoi)'
See ; they think it necessary to idealize the historical person-
age, to spiritualize the man of flesh and blood, to gloss over
his defects, to deny his gradual growth toward perfection, to
transform the imperishable witness of God's wondrous dealings
with men into a more or less impossible concretization of , ab-
stract sanctity, into a portrait representing principally and at
all hazards what "saints ought to be," and differing from others
of the class chiefly in name and local habitation. And when

* The Testament of Ignatius Loyola. Translated by E. M. Rix, with preface and notes
by George Tyrrell, S.J. St. Louis : B. Herder. 1900. The Autobiography of St. Ignatius.
Edited by J. F. X. O'Conor, S.J. New York : Benziger Bros. 1900.

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

OF NEW YORK. 1900.
VOL. LXXI. 37

578 THE SANCTITY OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA. [Aug.,

there comes question of recognizing the existence of sanctity
among the uncanonized, short-sighted apologists of this sort
formulate final tests and settle the matter decisively by appeal
to their own personal notion of what a saint is like. It is not
at all surprising when we find such self-constituted judges giv-
ing small favor to candidates whose ways are not their ways
and whose thoughts differ from their thoughts.

We may question, therefore, if in looking over the recorded
histories of saintly personages we always succeed in catching a
true representation of their individual characteristics, if ignor-
ance, pious fraud, and preconceptions never delude us into
worshipping under this or that saint's name an ideality that
never existed and crediting his canonization to the possession
of qualities which as a matter of fact were by no means in
harmony with his actual personality. It is noteworthy, too,
that although the mass of readers probably never reflect on
the possible " coloring " of hagiographies, still an instinct far
more reliable than mere scholarship renders many a saint's
biography unpopular, and negatively, at least, unedifying.
Hence, very frequently, one great fruit of the saint's life is
lost, and his story fails to sanction our strivings after perfec-
tion and to bring out in strong relief, as it should, the ex-
haustless Divine Patience that finally develops great sanctity
out of the poorest sorts of material, choosing the weak things
of this world and the foolish to bring to naught the noble and
the wise. For a certain class of biographers seem pledged
to concentrate attention on one single point the evidence for
the continuity of miracles in the Catholic Church. Too often
they pay the penalty of forgetting the sacredness of truth for
its own sake, and reap only failure, missing the rewards added
unto those who seek first the justice of God.

We shall reckon it not among the least results of our age's
great scientific achievements, that men have been strongly im-
pressed with the truth of the axiom "human traditions are
not always final authorities." The growth of the historical
spirit has been phenomenal in recent years, and, though in
some respects fruitful of evil; is, in this matter, efficacious of
great good. Perhaps it is tiot too much to say we should be
especially grateful that among other useful corrections has
come that of a current misconception regarding the dealings of
God with specially sanctified souls ; in other words, that a cer-
tain distorted notion of sanctity has undergone considerable
revision in consequence of modern historical investigations.

1900.] THE SANCTITY OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA. 579

Among hagiologists a new temper of mind is evident, and we
have been edified recently by the record of many a saintly life
which did not in the least resemble one long-sustained miracle.
The human individuality of the saint has been thrown into
truer relationship with his divine favors, and the general ten-
dency of the study has been to teach us that things may come
from God's hands in a state of imperfect development, and
that divine dealings with a soul are to some extent intelligible,
and not without a certain analogy and correspondence to
human nature and personal characteristics. We have thus been
taught that the true wonder of sanctity consists less in the
creation of a mathematically perfect being than in the develop-
ment of a creature while still a creature with a creature's
limitations into a glorious human mirror of Divine Holiness.
The man's personality is sanctified, not destroyed. His natural
affections are elevated, not replaced by angelic ones, and God's
grace, like his own human experiences, affects him after a
fashion corresponding to his own individual nature, or, in other
words, " recipitur secundum modum recipientis"

This, then, leads up to a broader notion of sanctity, as mak-
ing it less rigidly associated with those non-essential accom-
paniments of holiness, which some had learned to consider
properties rather than accidents, as being qualities which the
given subject, that is the saint, never could lack.

It is but a little while since a distinguished French writer,
savant as well as loyal Catholic, gratified the devotional pub-
lic with the issue of a series of Lives of the Saints, which
became popular under the name of u the common-sense edi-
tion." The chorus of welcome that greeted the very an-
nouncement of such an attempt gave ample evidence that the
projector of the series was not too far ahead of his age to
receive considerable sympathy and encouragement. Neither, on
the other hand, did it seem at all strange when certain shrugs,
exclamations, and raisings of eyebrows accompanied hostile
criticism of the plan and unfavorable comment on " surprising
statements " which appeared in some of the new volumes as
they were issued from the press. Number by number, how-
ever, the series has been growing, and, despite some defects,
already forms the nucleus of a .valuable popular library of
spiritual biographies. Much praise is due to M. Joly, the
general editor, whose remarkable study, Psychologic des Saints,
prefaced the biographical volumes, and served to make very
clear the general spirit and purpose of the whole attempt.

580 THE SANCTITY OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA. [Aug.,

Among the long list of glorious saints at hand for the
Catholic writer to choose from few, perhaps, lend themselves
better to the aim of this novel undertaking than the great
Spaniard whose ideas are still moulding the world, now that
three centuries have passed since he abode in the flesh. The
discoveries of the last half century, it is conceded, have made
a new Life of St. Ignatius an imperative necessity. This is
plainly evident from the notes attached by Father Michel, S.J.,
to the recent French compilation of Bartoli's biography. The
immense mass of matter contained in the Monumenta Historica
published monthly by the Spanish Jesuits is another indication
of the " general ignorance outside the Jesuit body concerning
the materials now available for studying the life of the founder
of the Society."* M. Joly, appreciating all this, treated his
readers to that charming sketch of the saint which has already
been translated into English and was noticed in the pages of
this magazine less than a year ago. But the publication of M.
Joly was necessarily brief and popular in style ; it leaves much
still to be accomplished by the scholar and historian. And we
cannot regard in any other light than that of an encouragement
to the further study of the real Ignatius the simultaneous publi-
cation of the two new volumes named at the head of this article.

To be misunderstood by their sub-contemporaries is, indeed,
as common among great men as is persecution during life.
And still, this seems to have been peculiarly true with regard
to the Saint of Loyola. The blind enthusiasm of well-meaning
admirers has been as effective a veil as the scornful calumnies
of assailants, and the true figure of Ignatius, when gradually re-
vealed by the discriminating fingers of honest students, appears
to be considerable of a shock to various sentimental worship-
pers as well as a triumphant refutation of slanderous attacks.
Admiration and scorn, both are now seen, in great measure, to
have gathered about no real man of flesh and blood, but a
highly and falsely colored portrait. It is on this account that
these new volumes have been prepared in a spirit akin to that
of the late General of the Society, Father Roothan, who, in
republishing the literal text of the Exercises, prescribed that
the words of Ignatius himself should no longer be replaced by
lengthy commentaries conveying neither the language nor the
sense of the writer, f

* The Testament of Ignatius Loyola, p. 220 in the appendix, by the Rev. H. Thurs-
ton, SJ.

tQuam multi etiam inter Nostros . . . nunquam librum ipsum Sancti Patris usu

1900.] THE SANCTITY OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA. 581

An unusual interest, therefore, attaches to this double publi-
cation by fathers of the Society of the autobiographical narrative
dictated by Ignatius himself, to his friend and adviser, the
accomplished Gonzales. Better than all scholarly dissertations
is a man's own account of his life, if we would see into the
very depths of his soul r and read aright the meaning of his
labors. And this aid the new publication does afford. Wisely
have the loyal and fearless sons of Ignatius wrought for their
father's honor by thus furthering a true acquaintance with his
history. Controversy is of but secondary worth when a great
name is defamed. The work of defence is most satisfactorily
accomplished by ignoring calumny and letting true virtue shine
forth as its own best halo. Simply to spread abroad knowledge
of St. Ignatius will be a method of vindication infinitely more
effective than the manufacturing of huge tomes in answer to un-
just and ill-natured French critics.*

To say that the new volume is of immense worth for
the refutation of bigots and calumniators and their pupils,
however, leaves unmentioned half its merit, for it performs
a work of no less importance in making necessary a re-
construction of various ideas concerning the saint, common
enough among unintelligent admirers. Those who cling to the
outworn notion of mathematical perfection and mechanical
sanctity may learn from these confessions of a great saint that,
unless they would cease to reverence him, they must amend
their canons of judgment and begin to appreciate the common-
sense standard of sanctity which the Church uses in her choice
of souls for canonization. The unfortunate alternative has been
necessitated, not through any defect or fault on the part of the
saint, but through the unwise zeal of these Short-sighted ad-
mirers. For his real character is in no respect inferior to the
imaginary. Gladly do we still profess reverence and faith for
the Ignatius of history, for the true saint and great man,
whose personal example, spiritual writings, and immortal ideas
have been among the most universally potent influences for
good in all the Catholic Church during the last four centuries.

gustuque probavere ! Quam multi vix eum, ut ita dicam, de facie norunt ! Exercitia Spirit"
ualia S. P. Ignatii de Loyola^ notis illustrata, auctore R. P. Joanne Roothan, Prasposito
Generali Societatis Jesu, Augustas Vindelicorum, 1887. The quotation is from Father
Roothan's prefatory letter, p.vii.

* The allusion is to recent works issuing from certain ecclesiastics and written with the
evident purpose of discrediting the founders and first members of the Society of Jesus. We
omit citation, having no desire further to circulate any book conceived in such venomous
and unchristian spirit.

582 THE SANCTITY OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA. [Aug.,

To his greater glory be it that Ignatius of Loyola had in his
character as little of the machine-minded partisan as of the
unscrupulous fanatic. If we may borrow language from his
favorite field of imagery, his exploit was that of a great captain
who at terrible personal risk turns defeat into victory by the
invention of expedients no other mind has perceived. Is it to
be deplored, then, that he was not a precise and heroically
literal observer of time-honored customs in nicest detail, when,
as was the case, his originality and indomitable will saved the
church, reconverted Europe, and held out to countless Chris-
tians of his own and subsequent centuries the guiding hand to
paths of lofty spiritual life? He had not grown up in the shadow
of a cloister, nor assumed the cowl in tender youth. The first
motive for his spiritual aspirations seems to have been largely
tinged with the spirit of emulation and the human desire to
excel, his first steps toward sanctity hasty and imperfectly
guided, and his mind, originally, in a condition far removed from
the even balance and tempered judgment of the true seer of
divine lights. He intimates that God's grace began by fastening
upon his natural virtues and sanctifying his personal characteris-
tics. Zeal that tended to fanaticism, fearlessness tinged with a
sort of ferocity, an utter unwillingness to yield or to be content
with a second place these qualities of mind, to judge from a
certain stand-point, would bode poor success for his plan to rival
"Blessed Dominic and Blessed Francis" in devotedness to Christ.
Almost the first evidence of earnest conversion from a life of
unrestrained worldliness is his readiness to murder an infidel
for daring to dispute the truth of Our Blessed Lady's per-
petual virginity. A little latter he betrays great lack of spirit-
ual wisdom and insight in allowing himself to be grievously
disturbed and tormented by silly scruples until almost on the
point of committing suicide. Later on he finds that God, taking
him by the hand, " as a master might take a school boy,"
teaches him spiritual truth so effectively that he is delivered
entirely from his scruples, and gains an ability to instruct others
which is in striking contrast with his previous small skill in
spiritual matters. Yet was his growth unto perfect stature still
to be accomplished by regular process of development, God's
grace slowly moulding and strengthening the spirit about to
do so great things for His name/s sake. His outburst of pas-
sionate anger at the attempted villany of some treacherous
peasants, his unregulated fervor and troublesome devotion while
a pilgrim at Jerusalem, his indulgence of pious fancy at the

1900.] THE SANCTITY OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA. 583

cost of bribery, his ridiculous puritanism in refusing to salute
an official, the doubt, hesitation, and dread that we find cross-
ing his mind at intervals all these indicate how untrue to the
life is any picture of his conversion which represents the
wounded knight as instantaneously transformed into a paragon
of holiness and wisdom. To find that, on the contrary, he him-
self traces for us his gradual growth from spiritual infancy to
manly vigor, is no doubt a shock to certain minds. And yet
to forget that fact is to remain oblivious to the man's real
greatness ; for the sanctity attained by this process of steady
development is to most of us far more vivid, significant,
and helpful than the full-blown perfection of a superhuman
hero outrivalling Adam for inborn integrity and infused
science.

Loyola's heroism becomes all the more meaningful when we
discover his conduct under experiences trying enough to crush
any one but a fanatic or a saint. For this helpless and unlet-
tered penitent setting out to convert the world met with but
scant encouragement at first from ecclesiastical authority. After
much hesitation and inward debate he had finally concluded
that his work was not to be accomplished by means of any of
the existing religious orders, although in more than one he
could have found a long history of brilliant deeds, a shining
calendar of saintly names, and a rule approved by the highest
sanction rules can win. He felt that none of these things suf-
ficed for the accomplishment of his mission ; his face was set
toward the opportunity of the future, not toward the splendid
history of the past. Nowhere did he see what he considered
to be adequate provision for the needs of the souls surround-
ing him. And so, with a firm faith in the divinity of the voice
that had whispered to him in the cave at Manresa, he began
to run his lonely way. At first he could but see men as trees
walking, and this dimness of vision led to many a rude and
painful shock when his progress caused sudden collision with
those crossing his path. " Prudent " men doubted his virtue,
his faith, his sanity. To many he was a rock of offence, and
to others a scandal. His theological science seemed to be in
the inverse ratio to his zeal for preaching for most of his
learning had been acquired at the altar-foot rather than in the
class-room. He proved to be anything but docile when arbi-
trarily restrained from spreading his ideas. He was an irre-
pressible, an incorrigible, and soon became a thorn in the flesh
to the men whose policy was peace at any price. At the uni-

584 THE SANCTITY OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA. [Aug.,

versity where he first enrolled himself as a student, pious and
respectable young men shrank from associating with him lest
they should be " represented as entangled with the teachers of
strange and dangerous doctrines."* One of his professors pro-
posed to inflict a public flogging on him as a seducer of youth.f
Civil magistrates, religious provincials, inquisitors, bishops, car-
dinals, the Supreme Pontiff himself, every one of them offered
his quota of opposition to the success of the plan that this un-
learned and unauthorized teacher of novelties professed to be
the manifest will of God. So strong was the dislike of him in
Rome that at one period he separated from his companions
outside the walls, not daring himself to venture within the
city. At a later day, the news that Cardinal Caraffa had been
elected pope threw the infant Society of Jesus into a panic,
so great, and, as the event proved, so well justified, was their
dread of opposition. And yet, withal, the indomitable will of
this strange saint made him reckless of obstacles. God's voice
had called him, wise counsellors had approved his mission, and
he would stop for no man. Little by little, as time went on,
his path brightened into perfect day, and he understood with
ever-increasing clearness just what his vocation demanded of
him. But how many a time during the dark hours of his lonely
travellings, when in prison or in foreign lands, when scorned
and persecuted, when tormented by hunger and nakedness and
fatigue how many a time was his heroic sanctity tried to the
limit, how often was his marvellous faith strained to the very
snapping point? What more evidence of his greatness do we
need than that all this while he should never have ceased
from repeating confidently, " If God be for me, who shall be
against me ? "

Hardly do we appreciate what terrible anguish must have
come to the saint when, barely through his internal novitiate,
he found himself suspected, and his mission doubted, if not
condemned, by those possessed of every official claim to reli-
gious respect and obedience. And there was more than the
mere bitterness of a lonely trust in his divine mission to try
his loyalty to the inner voice. The prospect of a sudden and
awful death amid burning fagots confronted him constantly ;
for that such would have been his instant fate had any of his
numerous enemies been able to substantiate their charges, is
clear enough from the taunt of the Vicar Figueroa, the ex-
aminer appointed by the Inquisition. "If we had detected*any

* The Testament of Ignatius Loyolj, p. 173. t Op. cit., p. 162.

i goo.] THE SANCTITY OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA. 585

heresy in you," said he, "you would have been burnt."* And
it appears to have been only by most extraordinary coincidences
the doing of Providence, beyond a doubt that Ignatius was
actually preserved from the violent death which met so many
of the class to which he seemed to belong.

Is he a saint? we can imagine to be the question proposed
by some lover of the ancien regime this disturber who is
setting the whole world by the ears, this untrained dreamer of
dreams, this innovator who is out of sympathy with the spirit
and practice of the church ! " Ignatius is playing into the hands
of the heretics ; he must be one of them," is the cry. " Down
with him ! " That such charges were damnably false was over-
looked by many so soon as they discovered in the accusation
some slight resemblance to the actual facts. It proved to be
a hard task to fight the half-lie. Ever during life he had to
hold himself in readiness to meet new repetitions of the charge
of heresy, and even when he went down to his grave there is
no doubt that he left behind him various pious souls still un-
convinced of his orthodoxy. One is amazed at the persistence
with which the heresy-hunters returned again and again to the
charge, undeterred by successive failures, apparently unable to
comprehend how the victim could be orthodox so long as he
differed from themselves. Still, perhaps, it is only doing them
justice to suppose that they were actuated by real fear of
false doctrine, and by honest desire to protect their own
opinions.

When first Ignatius began his studies at Alcala, he was
warned that the Inquisitors were about to put him to the rack
as one of the Illuminati ; and though the case did not proceed
to this extreme, he was commanded at least to lay aside the
sort of garments he had hitherto used. Three months later he
was again summoned before the representative of the Inquisi-
tion, and again managed to escape. Later on, he was a third
time examined and thrown into prison for six weeks ; and was
discharged only on condition of ceasing to give instructions
on religious matters for four years. He left Alcala upon this
and set out for Salamanca. Ten or twelve days after his ar-
rival he was invited to the Dominican convent and, after
dinner, questioned about his opinions concerning his doctrine
on the interior guidance of souls by the Holy Ghost. Divin-

* Op. cit., p. 130. The Saint's reply, "So would you be burnt, were you convicted of
heresy," indicates his belief that he was not to be judged by man's day, and that to be accused
of teaching false doctrine is, under some circumstances, no great stigma.

586 THE SANCTITY OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA. [Aug.,

ing the snare prepared for him, Ignatius answered but shortly,
and then said : " There is no need to talk any more about
these things."* The monks, rather divided in opinion as to
the stranger's orthodoxy, finally compromised the dispute by
imprisoning Ignatius and two of his companions. The prisoners
were freed again soon afterward, but under conditions which
the saint saw would hinder him from successfully carrying out
his mission, and so, leaving his native land, he set out for
Paris. There again his zeal made him an object of attack,
and he was denounced to the French Inquisitor General as a
teacher of unsound doctrine. Successful in clearing himself,
he was once more delated a few years afterward, immediately
before his departure from Paris. Coming to Venice, he found
himself summoned to court because "he had escaped justice
in Paris and Spain." It is significant that Ignatius, though
delivered from serious danger in every one of these instances,
yet felt himself so far from being secure, that when all his
companions went up to Rome to obtain the pope's blessing
before departing for Jerusalem, he did not go up with them,
" on account of Doctor Ortiz and the newly created Theatine
Cardinal, John Caraffa."f

It may be surmised readily enough that the character
of the saint and the orthodoxy of his writings suffered
during many long years from the harmful effects of this con-
tinued and almost universal suspicion. One of his warmest
friends, the Spaniard Hosez, admitted that he had long
refrained from making the Exercises from fear of being
tainted by false doctrine, he having been secretly warned to
be on guard against the dangerous book. A little later, when
on trial before the cardinal legate, it was with the greatest
difficulty, and only on appeal to the pope, that Ignatius could
obtain anything more than a discharge, his judge being unwill-
ing to give a verdict expressly in his favor. Nor did this
series of quashed accusations and vain trials serve, as it should
have done, thoroughly to exculpate the saint. The lying in-
sinuation, the white-flag attack, the thrust from behind, the
poisoning of wells these are the constant and unfailing re-
source of men like the enemies of Ignatius, when beaten in
the open. Such minds cannot conceive it possible that their
own method is passe'e. They cannot tolerate belief in the ex-
istence of a leaven strong enough to ferment the whole mass
that they themselves have pronounced irreclaimably unwhole-

* Op. cit., p. 144. t Op. cit., p. 183. Cardinal Caraffa became Pope Paul IV.

1900.] THE SANCTITY OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA. 587

some and corrupt. The very proposal to replace standard
treatises on the science of the spiritual life by any such com-
>osition as the Exercises was worse than impertinent it was
tale sonans, it was offensive to pious ears, it smacked of heresy,
'he book was precondemned by its writer's reputation. And
o we find, as late as 1553, that a Dominican friar, in attach-
ing a censure to the Exercises, writes to the Archbishop of
Toledo : " It must be carefully borne in mind that this Igna-
tius, according to common report, was denounced in the Inqui-
sition for a heretic. Being one of the Passivists and Illumi-
nati, he fled to Rome to escape the Inquisition and the
inquisitors."* Thus, on the warrant of hearsay evidence, did
this reverend critic condemn a man about to be enrolled
among the church's most glorious saints ; thus did he pass
censure on a book which since then has become the spiritual
bread of life to a multitude that no man may number.

When we come to the summing up of the saint's story, we
must admit that it is not the career we should have considered
a likely preface to final glory, to a triumph so absolute indeed
that the name of Ignatius now stands supreme among the
saviours of Catholic Europe. Some, it is true, complain still, as
their prototypes complained then, that no success is worthy of
commendation unless achieved a la mode. Some, it is painfully
clear, have acted on the belief that to record these unfortun-
ate occurrences will conduce to no good and that they had far
better be " censorized." But to the unclouded eye of the lover
of truth it remains perfectly evident that the real story of
Ignatius is the Lord's message of comfort to many a tried
soul, and that true piety and true intelligence must ever de-
nounce the folly of classing history among the d^uctive
sciences, just as it must commqnd the spirit of fearless honesty
which inspires such deeds as the opening of Vatican archives.

What has been done then, recently, to enlighten us on the
real character of St. Ignatius is of lasting worth. Though it
may scandalize a Pharisee here or there, it will help many a
humble publican of greater desert in God's sight teaching as
it does the lingering imperfections of the evolving saint, the
final vindication of the pure of heart, and the deep humanness
of a character too often depicted as a bloodless, nerveless
frame of iron. Those of us whose spirits are still embodied
will love him not less but more for the thought that, even

* Op. cit., p. 174. The reference there given is Chronicon Societatis fesu (Polanco),
vol. iii. appendix i. p. 504.

588 THE SANCTITY OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA. [Aug.,

with him, growth into the maturity of sainthood was an effort
and a pain ; will rejoice and not grieve that he too was de-
spised and rejected of men, spat upon and condemned; will
cling the closer to his memory for having been told that like
us he made his mistakes and was tortured by scruples, that he
felt the stirrings of human love and the qualms of physical
fear, that he loved to gaze out over the flowery fields and the
running water, and was thrilled with the solemn beauty of the
midnight sky. And we will learn lessons of charity from the
story of his persecutions, a story that had never been were
narrow-souled and suspicious critics of original thinkers to
attend to that sweetly simple little appeal for fair play made
in the prefaces of the Exercises : " It is to be assumed that
any respectable Christian will be more anxious to accept his
neighbor's statement than to reject it ; and that if he cannot
do so, he will ask him in what sense he understands it ; and if
that sense be wrong, he will charitably point out the mistake ;
and if that will not do, he will try his very best to get him to
hold it in a right sense, so that the statement may stand."'

Yes, it is a great lesson on the notion of sanctity, this Tej
tament of St. Ignatius. May it be read in many lands an<
reveal thoughts to many hearts! for not a few of us need t<
realize how impossible it is for our puny minds to comprehen<
the depth and breadth of God's dealings with men. His arm
is not shortened to the range of our understanding, though we
be very learned; and though we be the children of the prom-
ise, there still remain mercies that are uncovenanted. Let
trust much where our eyes are held, and let us admit that thi
true test of sanctity is to be found not in agreement with 01
ideas, j^ut rather in a perfect love of God that bursts out in th<
growth of a great zeal for souls, and blossoms into a divine
unselfishness, and bears fruits that are good for men.

* Bitter experience had dictated the above formulation of a very common principle
Christian ethics, our saint having suffered much at the hands of men who substituted for
some such canon of criticism as the following : Every respectable Christian must show hii
self, first of all, solicitous for the detection of heresy, or apparent heresy, in his neighbor'
statement ; in seeking for it, he must attend to the letter rather than to the spirit of expre
sions ; having discovered error, he must denounce it secretly, lest it be explained away ; anc
if the neighbor hesitate to confess himself a heretic, he must at once suffer death, or its mor
equivalent. Father Roothan, in a note on the sentence quoted, writes : Hoc monitum
prceemium, quod non magis ad exercitia pertinere videtur, quam ad communem legem chari-
tatis, ideo praemitti a S. P. existimo, quod primis annis expertus esset minus aequa multorui
judicia, apud quos, ut erant ilia tempora ob serpentes haareses suspiciosa, Exercitiorum
sione notam novatoris incurrerat. Ceterum est sane charitati et discretioni consentaneui
hoc monitum, ejusque usus non raro necessarius, ne praeceps de quoquam.feratur judicium.

1900.] A NUN. 589

HUN.

I hat 1 to (giod, unfettered, may aspire,
And from all lesser loVes my spirit Wean,

Lfet my young fjeart, in solitude sererje,
Retain its deep Virginity entire :

Lfet sight of peaks girt With the splendid fire
f setting suns, or topped by cloudless st]een,

Be barred frorrj me; let music l^eqceforth meaa
qly the charging of a convent choir.

<And if 1 must be purified of stain
By anguish, free me, @od, from, every chill

Or tremor at my tormeqt, for 1 fain
Would boW to Thee a consecrated Will,

And bratfe, With Christ, the darkest depths of pain
I o quell desire, unselfish loVe to gain.

J. 0. AUSTIN.

590 THE LANE TO THE MILL. [Aug.,

THE LANE TO THE MILL.

BY EDWARD F. GARESCHE. .

'HE Lane is a long lane and stony, and it leads
into a sun-dappled tunnel of green. Moss be-
neath, trees overhead, a tangle of bushes all
around it, and, slipping between the waving
branches, splashes of sunbeams from the bright-
ness above. It was like dipping into a cool stream to turn
old Dobbin into the path from the dust and glare of the high-
way. I tightened the reins, and we clattered away down the
slope like a squad of cavalry. Then, after a long straight-
away, the road, which followed a brook, turned sharp to the
right. We swept round the curve right soldierly, when of a
sudden I felt old Dobbin gather himself together and spring!
It was just as we turned, and I, who am not as quick as when
Dobbin and I were young together, nearly, I am ashamed to
say, fell out of my saddle. " Dobbin ! " said I, amazed. The
old horse planted his forefeet, stopped short, and turned.
Then I saw the reason of that sudden leap of his. A young-
ster lay, asleep, right across the roadway !

"Well, well, well, well!" said I. The lad was a strong
sleeper, for the clatter and all never moved him. " Well, well,
well ! There is a living example of what this poor old South
is getting to be. Asleep in the road ! and I '11 warrant that
he 's as comfortable there as if this had not been, in its time,
the busiest pathway twixt here and Baltimore." For I remem-
bered, mind you, the days of old ; " befo' " you know the
rest. Before that wretched time that made my right arm use-
less, took my only son to die on a battle-field, and stripped
me of all but a paltry hundred acres, me, who used to be
" Mastah Henry Moosehead " to five hundred cheerful souls,
and, let me see, yes, it was six thousand acres ! think of it !
Yet I oughtn't to fret, either; there's poor old Colonel Bill,
who used to boast that he could buy and sell me, in the old
days, when we were n't as good friends as now. He was sold
out last week, and hasn't a roof to cover him. He's coming
to live with me.

"Colonel Bill," said I, "come and live with me!"
*"No, sah ! " says he, getting very red about his ears, "I

1900.] THE LANE TO THE MILL. 591

won't! I'll see you why, Henry Moosehead, I could have
bought and sold you ! "

"Yes, yes, Colonel Bill," said I, "I know that; we used to
be mighty good enemies, didn't we? But, you remember the
day in the trenches at Vicksburg, don't you, when you gave
me the last drink in your canteen, and swore that you 'd just
had your fill? That was a lie, Colonel Bill, and you've got
to make up for it to me. So you come and live with me ! "

Meanwhile, the youngster in the road slept on, and Dobbin
nosed him curiously. " Gee up ! " said I, pulling at his head ;
"we'll ride on now, old Dobbin, and this lad will never know
that you saved his life by that stiff-legged spring of yours.
Gee up, Dobbin ! " But Dobbin threw his head up in the air
when I jerked it, and then went back to his nosing. "Why,
confound you, Dobbin!" said I, " why should a horse of your
breeding notice a ragged brat like that. By jingo, sir, I '11 I
believe I '11 take my glasses out and look at him." I carry my
precious spectacles in my purse when I ride, so I carefully got
them out and set them outside of my nose. Then I could see
the boy. Shade of Absalom ! he looked like a runaway. A
splendid lad, with white skin and golden hair I could see that
much under the dust his face. looked strangely like 1 like
nonsense ! His clothes were fine and unworn, but bramble-torn
and dust-smeared, and his light shoes were as tattered and bat-
tered as though he had tramped a thousand miles. " Um !
some rich man's son," said I, " that *s run off to fight Indians
I believe that they still do run off to fight Indians, don't they ?
We used to, I know." I clambered down. You see, this thing
of living so much alone gives a man an odd habit of talking
aloud, as though his lips and his ears were good company, and
I 'm afraid it makes my writing a little incoherent too, and
rambling ; but never mind, I '11 come back to my the boy. I
clambered down from Dobbin I used to leap from horseback
when I was courting my Mary Jane and gently shook the
lad by the shoulder. Humph ! not much use that.

He turned a little under my touch and murmured, in sleepy
tones, " It 's not breakfast yet, is it, mommy ? " I shook him
harder. " It 's not," murmured he. Finally, bracing myself, I
gave him a harder rattle than before. " Hey, sonny ! " said I,
"wake up! wake up ! wake up ! " Then his blue eyes opened, in
a sort of sleepy surprise, and regarded me with fearless wonder.

" Why, where am I ?" said he in a youthful treble, " and wJio are
you ? You look like my papa ! " " The deuce I do ! " thought I.

Then I said to him : " Come, come, my little man, get up

592 THE LANE TO THE MILL. [Aug.,

from the dusty road ; why, old Dobbin here almost stepped on
you. And tell me who you are, and how you came to be
sleeping here ; and where you ran away from," I added severely.

He scrambled to his feet in an instant ; he didn't like that
insinuation. " A good, spirited lad," said I to myself.

" I didn't run away, sir ! " said he ; " my mommy had to
go away from home for a day, and I started out to find my
grandfather. Do you know him, sir?"

" To find your grandfather, my dear ! " said I. " Why, bless
me, how did you lose him ? "

The poor boy looked rather troubled. That was a cruel
jest of mine. " You see, sir," said he, " I Ve never seen my
papa's father. My papa's dead ; he was killed before I was
born. He was a Union soldier, sir!"

The lad stood straight as he said the word, and flashed
look at me strangely like thought I again ; and again nv
better sense said " foolishness ! " " Well, well ! " said I, " to<
bad, my little man. I was in- that war, too, you see "; but
did not add " on the other side."

He put out his little hand : " Shake hands, then, sir ! " sai<
he ; and, feeling guilty, I did it. Then he went on : " M]
mommy and he were married during the war. She was
Union general's daughter, and papa met her when he went tc
Washington. But my papa's father was a Southerner, an(
hated Union soldiers. After the war came on, and when m;
papa would not leave the army you see he had been a cap.
tain before it all began his father was very angry and sai<
that he would never own my papa for his son. So they nev(
saw nor wrote to one another ; and so my papa was killed ii
a battle, and he and his father never made up again, why,
you 're crying, sir ! "

So I was, tears as big as dollars. " Never mind, lad," said I ; " m;
eyes are weak. Now tell me what happened to your mother ? "

" She was very sad," quoth he, " and then God gave her m<
to cheer her, and now she says she loves me enough for two
I hope," he said, his forehead wrinkling, " that she won't com<
home before I 'm back again, for that would worry her terribly!

"And now tell me, sir," said I," why you were so naughty
to run off from this dear mother of yours and wander away out
here? Do you know how many miles you are from Baltimore?
"No, sir," said he.

" Twenty miles ! " said I ; "do you mean to say you walke<
all of the way ? And what possessed you to start out, anyway?
" It was dear mommy," said the boy ; " when I was a littl

1900.] THE LANE TO THE MILL. 593

fellow she never talked of my papa's father. But since we Ve
come to live in Baltimore she cries, sometimes, and says that
she wishes she could be friends with him, for my papa's sake
and he 's so near. So I asked her if she knew where he lived,
and she said Airebell ; isn't it a funny name? Then, yester-
day, she had to go away to Washington, 'cause the President
is going to give her a pension because my papa was killed ;
and that was the first time that we had ever been away from
each other. So I was lonely, and wondered what I could do
to please her when she came home again ; and suddenly I
thought, I '11 go and find my papa's father, and ask him to
come and be friends with us. So when Mary she 's our cook
was busy I slipped away, and walked along the street till I
met a farmer in a big wagon. And I asked him if he knew
where Airebell was. He was a good, stupid-looking man, and
he said, * What d 'ye want to go there for, sonny ? ' To find
my papa's father, I told him. * Git in th' wagon, thin/ said
he, ' and I '11 take ye widin foive miles o' the place.' So I rode
with him, oh, half the day, and he gave me my dinner at his
farm-house, and his wife wanted to keep me and send me back
to Baltimore. But I explained that I had to go, and slipped
away. Then I walked, and walked, and walked, asking the
way to Airebell, until night came, and I was as sleepy and
tired as I could be. So I turned aside to go to a light that I
saw here in the woods, but when I 'd come so far I lost sight
of it. Then I thought, since it was so warm and comfortable
here, I 'd just lie down awhile and so I must have fallen off
to sleep."

While the little man was telling his tale I was struggling
with a strange idea foolish, wildly foolish, it seemed, but it
would not down he was like he was strangely like " Boy ! "
said I, gripping his arm so tight that he winced and pulled
away, " what was your grandfather's name ? "

" Why," said he, " did n't I tell you ? It was the same as
my papa's was Henry Treadway Moosehead."

"Good God!" I shouted, and caught him up in my arms.
For a minute he was badly scared at such a sudden embrace ;
then he understood bright little rascal ! and hugged me tight
in return.

" Goody, goody, good," cried he ; " how glad dear mommy
will be for I Ve found my papa's father, haven't I? "

" You have, my son ! " said I ; " and now come home with
me, so that we can wash you and brush you, and see what
VOL. LXXI. 38

594 THE LANE TO THE MILL. [Aug.

you really look like, after all ! " So I hoisted him up on
Dobbin's neck, and the old horse took his nose from the grass
by the wayside to whinny pleasantly. Then we cantered back
to the sunny roadway.

In looking over the dusty papers which my grandfather,
Henry Moosehead, left in his old desk when he died, I have
come on the foregoing fragment written in his own careful
hand, and dated the twelfth of June, eighteen hundred and
seventy-two. So that little boy whom he found sleeping in
the lane was I, Henry Moosehead the third, long-time a grave
and sober merchant of the City of New York. I believe that
it would have pleased the good old gentleman to have known
that what he carefully recorded in the gratitude of his heart
should be set forth in print, for many and many a time has
he told me, in different words than these and indeed I myself
well remembered it of the way that I found " my papa's
father " in the quiet Lane that leads to the Mill. And I re-
member, too, my young delight when we came to the fine old
mansion on the hill, that had been the home of my fathers for
five generations, where jolly Colonel Bill was smoking on the
veranda. That noon after I had been washed and brushed
and mended by old Mammy Jane, who " knowed yo' pa ! bless
yo' soul ; I knowed yo' pa 'fore he knowed hisself, honey ; an'
yo's jest his dead image an' likeness" Grandfather Moosehead
put on his broadcloth coat, and took out his gold-headed cane,
and set forth with me, on the train, for Baltimore. I shall
never forget, young as I was, the look which came over my
mother's face as we walked up the path to our door, hand in-
hand. She poor mother ! had just come home, weary and
sad, from Washington, to find that her son had been gone,
none knew where, for a night and a day ! And she was just
starting hopelessly forth to find him she knew not whither
when we came marching in old man and boy. She covered
my proud face with kisses, while gentle grandfather stood look-
ing down at her, his cheeks wet with tears. At last she looked
up and began to thank him ; but he held out his arms. " Nay,
never thank me, my dear," said he, tremulously ; " savage old
fellow that I am ! I owe you far more than you owe me, for I
am your husband's father."

And all that dear mother could find to say, as she kissed
him, was the phrase which of all phrases we mortals have
oftenest cause to use "Thank God ! "j

THE WELL is ON MAIN STREET, AMESBURY, MASS.

THE STORY OF WHITTIER'S "CAPTAIN'S WELL."

BY MARY E. DESMOND.

LONG the valley of the Merrimack River, in
Massachusetts, are many places made famous by
the Quaker poet, John Greenleaf Whittier. The
legends and strange adventures of the long ago
in that vicinity were woven by him into immortal
verse. Many of them deal with homely themes ; but the charm
of his pen well brought out the joy, pathos, love, and tragedy
of the olden days. Whittier saw in many incidents of the
past a lesson that was applicable to his own day and genera-
tion, and well did he present his themes clothed in the beauty
of poetry.

Among his later poems is " The Captain's Well," written in
1890, two years before his death, and which was first published
in the New York Ledger the year it was written. It was said
that Whittier received a thousand dollars for it. The well that
figures in the poem is situated on Main Street, in the town of

596 THE STORY OF WHITTIER'S "CAPTAIN'S WELL:' [Aug.,

Amesbury, Mass. This street leads from the centre of the
town to the road that runs along the Merrimack River to the
city of Newburyport, Mass., which is situated at the mouth of
the river. The well, which is about half a mile distant from the
business part of the town, near the place known as " Bartlett's
Corner," was dug .very close to the street in the corner of a
large field of the Daniel Huntington estate, now owned by J.
R. Huntington. It was dug by Captain Valentine Bagley, or
"Val" Bagley as he was better known, in fulfilment of a vow
made by him while suffering from thirst when shipwrecked on
the Arabian coast, and it was used by the public for many years.
Captain Bagley was a well-known character in the early
days of the neighboring city of Newburyport, where he was
born in 1773 in the locality known as Annis Rocks. His
father was a miller and the remains of the old dam and mill
where he toiled are still to be seen. At an early age Captain
Bagley went to sea and he soon became a master mariner.
He married Hannah Currier, of Newburyport, and was the
father of five children, some of whose descendants are still
living. He sailed from Salem, Mass., May 4, 1791, on the
Grand Sachem, on an Indian voyage, as second mate; but he
left the vessel December 25 of that year for the brig Commerce,
of Boston. January 27, 1792, he sailed for Madras and arrived
there March 25. A month later he left for Bombay, and July
10 the ship ran aground and the passengers and crew, thirty-
four in all, took to two small boats. Finally one of the boats
swamped. All got aboard the other and cruised along the coast
for some time, fearing to land on account of the hostility of
the natives. Food becoming scarce, they were forced to do so,
and three of the crew were drowned in the attempt. On
landing they divided into two parties, each going in an opposite
direction in search of a port where relief could be obtained,
and the party of which Captain Bagley was a member suffered
greatly from thirst. The story of the captain's vow at this
trying time and his subsequent rescue is graphically told in
the poem :

" In the Arab desert where shade is none,
The waterless land of sand and sun,
Under the pitiless, brazen sky
My burning throat as the sand was dry.
My crazed brain listened in fevered dreams
For splash of buckets and ripple of streams ;

1900.] THE STORY OF WHITTIER'S "CAPTAIN'S WELL:' 597

THE QUAKER POET, JOHN G. WHITTIFR.

And opening my eyes to the blinding glare,
And my lips to the breath of the blistering air
Tortured alike by the heavens and earth,
I cursed, like Job, the day of my birth.
Then something tender, and sad, and mild,
As a mother's voice to her wandering child,
Rebuked my frenzy : and, bowing my head,
I prayed as I never before had prayed :
Pity me, God ! for I die of thirst ;
Take me out of this land accurst ;

598 THE STORY OF WHITTIER'S "CAPTAIN'S WELL." [Aug.,

And if ever I reach my home again,
Where earth has springs and the sky has rain,
I will dig a well for the passers-by,
And none shall ^suffer with thirst as I.
I saw, as I passed my home once more,
The house, the barn, the elms by the door,
The grass-lined road that riverward wound,
The tall slate stones of the burying-ground,
The belfry and steeple on meeting-house hill,
The brook with its dam and gray grist mill.
And I knew, in that vision beyond the sea,
The very place that my well must be.
God heard my prayer in that evil day ;
He led my feet in their homeward way,
From false mirage and dried-up well,
And the hot sand storms of a land of hell,
Till I saw at last, through a coast hill's gap,
The city held in its stony lap,
The mosques and domes of scorched Muscat,
And my heart leaped up with joy thereat;
For there was a ship at anchor lying,
A Christian flag at its mast-head flying
And sweetest of sounds to my home-sick ear
Was my native tongue in the sailors' cheer."

Captain Bagley and his party took berth in this American
vessel, but many weary months passed before he reached the
harbor of Newburyport and sailed up the Merrimack to his
home. His family had long mourned him as dead, and his home-
coming was made a day of great rejoicing by them and his
friends, and the towns-people generally. The entire day and
evening was spent in renewing acquaintances ; but, in the mean-
time, the captain was not forgetful of the vow he had made
in Arabia when death seemed near.

" But when morning came he called for his spade ;
*I must pay my debt to the Lord,' he said.
'Why dig you here?' asked a passer-by;
' Is there gold or silver the road so nigh ? '
' No, friend,' he answered ; ' but under this sod
Is the blessed water, the wine of God.'

1900.] THE STORY OF WHITTIER'S "CAPTAIN'S WELL" 599

* Water ! The Powow is at your back,

And right before you the Merrimack,

And, look you up or look you down,

There 's a well-sweep at every door in town.'

' True,' he said ; * we have wells of our own ; .

But this I dig for the Lord alone.'

Said the other : * This soil is dry, you know ;

I doubt if a spring can be^ found below ;

WHITTIER'S BIRTHPLACE NEAR HAVERHILL, MASS.

You had better consult, before you dig,
Some water-witch with a hazel twig.'
* No ; wet or dry, I will dig it here,
Shallow or deep, if it takes a year.
For the Lord be thanked I am back again
Where earth has springs and the sky has rain,
And the well I promised by Oman's Sea
I am digging for Him in Amesbury.' "

The spot being very dry and sandy, the captain toiled many
days before there was any sign of water ; yet he was not dis-

600 THE STORY OF WHITTIER'S "CAPTAIN'S WELL:' [Aug.,

couraged, but worked on day after day until finally his perse-
verance was rewarded with success.

" And when at last, from the loosened earth,
Under his spade the stream gushed forth,
And fast as he climbed to his deep well's rim
The water he dug for followed him,
He shouted for joy : * I have kept my word,
And here is the well I promised the Lord.' "

The place where the well is dug was the old home of Cap-
tain Bagley's mother, previous to her marriage ; and after the
death of her husband she returned with her children and re-
sided in the old homestead. After Captain Bagley's eventful
trip he abandoned sea life and settled in his early home,
where he opened a public tavern in 1818. He also established
a baggage-wagon line between Amesbury and Boston, which
was considered a great journey in those days before railroads
were built. In 1820 he was chosen selectman of Amesbury,
and he was always one of the most honored citizens of the
town. The last years of his eventful life were most peace-
fully spent.

" The long years came and the long years went,
And he sat by his roadside well content ;
He watched the travellers, heat-oppressed,
Pause by the stream to drink and rest,
And grateful at heart his memory went
Back to that waterless Orient,
And the blessed answer of prayer, which came
To the earth of iron and sky of flame.
And when a wayfarer, weary and hot,
Kept to the mid-road, pausing not
For the well's refreshing, he shook his head ;
' He don't know the value of water,' he said ;
* Had he prayed for a drop as I have done
In the desert circle of sand and sun,
He would drink and rest, and go home to tell
That God's best gift is the wayside well.' "

Mrs. Harriet Prescott Spofford, the well-known author and
poet, "resides in a picturesque house on Deer Island, one of the

1900.] THE STORY OF WHITTIER'S "CAPTAIN'S WELL'' 601

many pretty little islands in the Merrimack River. This island
forms a connecting link for the old chain suspension bridge
that spans the Merrimack near Newburyport, and the entire
island, which is owned by Mrs. Spofford, is laid out into spa-
cious grounds. The picturesque chain bridge is said to be the
oldest suspension bridge in America. The talented owner of
this beautiful place, who has been termed by Whittier "the
sweet singer of the Merrimack," has also written a poem on
Captain Bagley's famous well, the opening stanzas of which
are as follows :

" Driving along the Amesbury road,
We have flung the rein loose many a day,
And paused for a draught from the mossy depths
Of an old gray well by the public way,
Where the springs make their dark and mysterious play*
Valentine Bagley sunk that well,
A hundred years since, out of hand,
When he came back from the Indian seas
And his wreck on the fierce Arabian strand,
Where the airs like flames about him fanned,
And the ashes of hell was the burning sand."

Many years ago, when aqueduct water was introduced into
Amesbury, the well was deemed useless. Later the top was re-
moved and it was covered with planks, and soon it was almost
hidden by the long grass. Not long ago the covering was taken
off, and the well has been restored, as near as possible, to its
original appearance. A shed like covering was placed over it,

OLD "DISTRICT SCHOOL" WHICH WHITTIER ATTENDED.

6o2 THE STORY OF WHITTIER' s "CAPTAIN'S WELL" [Aug.,

and inside is a crude seat where visitors may rest. An old
bucket, suspended by a chain, hangs above the well, and water
may also be obtained from a modern faucet. A copy Of the
New York Ledger, in which Whittier's poem first appeared, is
tacked on the side of the enclosure and the illustrations bring
out vividly the main points in the poem.

Captain Bagley died on New Year's day, in 1839, an< ^ he was
interred in Union Cemetery, which is on Haverhill Street, in
Amesbury, in sight of his home and the well which was for
so many years a public benefit. It is the cemetery referred to
in the poem, where, in his vision, the captain saw

" The tall slate stones of the burying-ground."

His grave is marked with a plain white stone, which bears
the following inscription :

" CAPT. VALENTINE BAGLEY.
Died January I, 1839,

Aged 66 years.
His languishing head is at rest,
Its thinking and aching is o'er ;
His quiet, immovable breast
Is heaved by affliction no more."

Near by are stones marking the graves of his son and daugh-
ter and his son's wife, and there are also several unmarked
graves in the lot. In the same cemetery, only a short distance
from the resting-place of Captain Bagley, sleeps the poet
Whittier, whose genius has made the story of the roadside
well immortal.

Not far distant is another place made famous by Whittier.
On the river road leading to the place known as " Amesbury
Ferry" is the site of the old, tumble-down house where lived
Goody Susie Martin, the mother of the gentle Mabel Martin,
who is the heroine of the poem " The Witch's Daughter." Mrs.
Martin was an eccentric old lady, and she was accused by her
neighbors of being a witch. She was arrested and placed in
jail in Salem, Mass., and later was hung with several other re-
puted witches on Gallows Hill in that city. Whittier thus
describes her:

" That mother, poor, and sick, and lame,
Who daily, by the old arm-chair,
Folded her withered hands in prayer;

1900.] THE STORY OF WHITTIER'S "CAPTAIN'S WELL" 603

Who turned in Salem's dreary jail
Her worn old Bible o'er and o'er,
When her dim eyes could read no more."

Her daughter's lonely life, shunned by her neighbors on ac-
count of her mother's reputed crimes, is graphically described.
She goes to Esek Harden's husking party, but there the shadow
of her mother's fate follows her:

" For Mabel Martin sat apart,
And let the haymow's shadow fall
Upon the loveliest face of all.

THE WHITTIER HOUSE, AMESBURY, MASS.

She sat apart as one forbid,

Who knew that none would condescend

To own the witch-wife's child a friend.

But cruel eyes have found her out,

And cruel lips repeat her name,

And taunt her with her mother's shame.

She answers not with railing words ;
But drew her apron o'er her face,
And, sobbing, glided from the place."

Esek Harden was a most just man and also the leading person
in the village. Learning that she had departed, he followed her

604 THE STORY OF WHITTIER'S "CAPTAIN'S WELL:' [Aug.,

to her home and there wooed and won her. Returning with her
to the merry-making, he astonished those present by declaring
the witch's daughter to be his promised wife :

" * Good friends and neighbors/ Esek said,
1 I 'm weary of this lonely life !
In Mabel see my chosen wife!

She greets you kindly, one and all ;
The past is past, and all offence
Falls harmless from her innocence.

Henceforth no more she stands alone ;
You know what Esek Harden is :
He brooks no wrong to him or his.'

Oh, pleasantly the harvest-moon

Between the shadow of the mows,

Looked on them through the green elm boughs !

On Mabel's curls of golden hair,
On Esek's shaggy strength it fell ;
And the wind whispered, ' It is well ! '

Thus did Whtttier weave into verse these incidents which
took place in the town where so many years of his life were
spent and where he sleeps the sleep that knows no waking.
By nature he was sympathetic, and he found in these incidents
much that appealed to his sensitive, poetic soul, and from them
he drew inspiration. While his fame will ever chiefly rest upon
his "Songs of Freedom" and that inimitable New England idyl
" Snow-Bound, " yet in many of his other poems are described
scenes which appeal strongly to the heart and mind, and future
generations will read o'er and o'er his songs of love, tragedy,,
and pathos, which have made the valley of the Merrimack
River famous for all time.

Haver hill, Mass.

IQOO.] PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CA THOLIC CHURCH. 605

THE PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC

CHURCH.

BY DR. B. F. DE COSTA.

II.

THE CHURCH AS THE GUARDIAN, INTERPRETER, AND DIS-
TRIBUTER OF THE BIBLE.

N the previous article the Bible was defined, in the
language of Saint Jerome, as " The Divine Li-
brary." But did God leave the Library without
a keeper, a Librarian ? That was not in accord-
ance with the Plan. The Church became the
Custodian of the Library. Truly, considering the agency of
the Sacred Penmen, who were Churchmen, in producing the
Bible, there can be no question respecting rights and the re-
sponsibility of the Church.

THE LIBRARY BELONGS TO THE CHURCH, AND NOT THE
CHURCH TO THE LIBRARY.

The Church came first, organized, equipped, full-powered.
At a late period the New Testament followed. The Bible is
authenticated and rendered authoritative by the Church, and
those who refuse to hear the Church have no satisfactory evi-
dence whereby they may prove the divine origin and claim of
Holy Scripture. Consequently, the non-Catholic scheme, which
held the Bible superior to the Church, has nothing to rest upon,
and is falling asunder. In the hands of the Catholic Church
the Bible is safe. The Bible has been described as " the noblest,
the greatest, the divinest of things unsacramental," but it is
not superior to the Church, and is not the sole Rule of Faith.
With profound reverence, the Catholic Church holds this won-
derful Library, the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments,
in their integrity and entirety, rejecting the proud opinion of
schismatics, who accept what suits their convenience, rejecting
the rest. The Encyclical of Leo XIII., Providentissimus Deus,
1893, declares the mind of the Catholic Church, saying that "all
the Books which the Church receives as sacred and canonical are
written wholly and entirely, with all their parts, at the dicta^
tion of the Holy Ghost " ; and that these books are the " Books

606 PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. [Aug.,

of the Old and New Testaments, whole and entire, with all
their parts, as enumerated by the decree of the same Council
(Trent) and in the ancient Latin Vulgate, are to be received
as Sacred and Canonical."

The Canon of Scripture embraces all the books, while schis-
matics reject the so-called " Apocryphal " books.

The place of the Bible in the Catholic Church is quite evi-
dent from this plain declaration of the Holy Father ; but it
will be proper to continue the work of illustration, by showing
that the Church has ever maintained the defence of the Bible
as the plenarily inspired Word of God. She has taken great
care to preserve faithful transcripts of the Word, causing the
texts to be carefully studied, drawing copiously from all the
books for the construction and enrichment of her sacred offices,
encouraging their distribution and devout perusal by the peo-
ple ; and she has proved in every possible manner the friend
and authorized guardian of Holy Scripture.

THE CHURCH THE DEFENDER OF THE BIBLE.

Still it has been industriously bruited in nearly every part
of the world, that the Catholic Church is the foe of the
Bible, and opposed to its circulation and use. How did this
happen ?

First of all, non Catholics drifted into a false attitude to-
wards the Bible ; and fell into the unfounded notion already
indicated, that the Bible should be exalted above the Church.
Various erroneous views obtained currency, and finally it came
to be understood, that a distinguished non Catholic leader had
declared for the dictum " The Bible only the religion of
Protestants." This dictum became current at a favorable
juncture, and was taken up as the Protestant war cry, having
seen service ever since. It has been sounded everywhere in
the face of the Catholic Church, which has not hesitated to
repudiate the declaration in the clearest and most uncompromis-
ing manner. As we have seen, the Church came first, clothed
in perfect and unquestioned authority by the Founder Himself,
having ample power and guidance for dealing with everything
relating to doctrine and discipline. This was the recognized
state of the case long before a single chapter of the New
Testament was written. The Master told His disciples to go
and teach, not write a collection of books for the guidance of
the Church. He offered Himself as Guide. Lo, I am with you
alway. To one Apostle He gave the headship, with plenary

1900.] PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. 607

power. The Bible makes no claim to superiority over the
Church. It presents no Creed, no Rule of Faith. The Creed,
the Rule, was given orally, and engraved on the hearts of the
Apostles. The first book of the New Testament was written
years after the Ascension ; and in that book we might reason-
ably expect to find some indication, if any intention of the
kind was entertained, that a body of writings was forthcoming
which should stand -superior to the Church and prohibit for
ever anything on the part of the Church not distinctly pro-
vided for by the writings. But there is no sign of anything of
the kind in the first book, or the last book, or any book. In-
deed this preposterous notion was never heard of until fifteen
centuries had passed, and Henry VIII., in the interest of his
adulteries, quarrelled with the Pope and rejected the authority
of the Church. Then, suddenly, it was discovered that, in all
the past centuries of the Church, the people had remained in
ignorance.

BIBLE NOT THE SOLE RULE OF FAITH.

But if the Bible was the sole rule of faith, it would be in-
teresting and quite proper, at least, for the non-Catholic to
show how the Church got along without this all-sufficient and
indispensable rule. Nearly a generation of Christians passed
away before the work of writing the New Testament books
was begun, and about three centuries were gone before the
Canon of Scripture was declared. The " Bible-only " Christians
must have had a sorry experience during those years. It was not
the Bible, but the voice of the Church that was heard speaking
with authority all that time. The Anglican doctrine of "the
right of private judgment, in contradistinction to the authority
of the Church," was unknown. " The supremacy of Holy Scrip-
ture," like "private judgment," was itself unknown. But even
now that men have " the Divine rule of faith," it is seen that
the " Divine rule " is not divine, in that the rule is simply what
each individual human fancy makes it, giving many diverse
and contradictory rules, which indicate that the rule comes
from some god of Confusion. Luther, Melanchthon, Calvin,
Beza were all shocked when they found that this confusion
had come of their own teachings. Jenaer, an earnest Protestant,
woke up to the insecurity of the Bible as a foundation for the
Rule of Faith. Schleiermacher wrote : " According to genuine
Protestant principles, it is impossible that the internal dissen-
sions of the Church [Protestant] can be cured, except superfi-

608 PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. [Aug.,

cially ; they cannot be stopped by the power of the Church,
but must bleed on internally." This non-Catholic notion con-
cerning the rule of faith has no support in Scripture or in the
history of Scripture. The Founder of the Church " allowed
the very flower and beauty of His Church to pass away before
a word was written." We are told that, 4f the one-hearted and
one-souled Church of Jerusalem had drooped and withered ;
the Chair of Antioch, where Christianity first found a name,
had migrated to Rome, leaving only a glorious foothold of the
primacy impressed, in thankfulness, on that privileged city ; the
Church's cradle had been sprinkled with blood before the first
reed was dipped in ink, under the Holy Spirit's guidance, to
write the first words of the new inspiration." As Irenseus de-
clared, many nations had Christianity without ink or paper.
Fourteen hundred years elapsed before the Scriptures were
printed and put within the reach even of the minority of Chris-
tians. This " Bible-only " theory, in fact, is adapted simply to
-a state of religious dementia.

A noticeable thing, however, in connection with the sub-
ject is, that the writer credited with the theory never taught
it, and distinctly repudiated it. Chillingworth, in his Religion
of Protestants, says that "Scripture alone to judge all contro-
versy in faith " is " a plain falsehood," and that " universal
tradition is the rule to judge all controversies by." Yet non-
Catholics go on with the old cry, " the Bible only," aspersing
the name of the man to whom it is falsely attributed. This
lie has shown an enormous vitality. Like the plague, stamped
out in one place, it appears in another.

THE CHURCH DID NOT " CHAIN THE BIBLE."

But we must pursue this subject further, and show the
place of the Bible in the Church by indicating the work done
to secure the circulation and reading of the Bible.

In this connection, however, we meet with another false-
hood, not indeed expressed so much in language as by a pic-
ture, the famous picture by Ward, the Finding of the Chained
Bible by Luther at Erfurt in 1507. It was purchased at a
cost of fifteen thousand dollars, and presented to the British
and Foreign Bible Society. Reproduced in engravings, it has
gone all over the world, teaching that, until Luther's Bible
appeared, the Word of God was suppressed and kept out of
circulation. The men who make the world's pictures possess
an -enormous power for good or evil, and in this case it was

1900.] PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. 609

for evil. The falsehood will travel on, probably, for genera-
tions, and die only when its worshippers are dead. D'Aubigne",
the author of an alleged History of the Reformation, was the
originator of this falsehood, declaring that Luther was a
stranger to the Bible until he found the chained copy ; while
it has been conveyed to the public, that the Bible had little or
no circulation until Luther brought out his edition in 1534.
If Luther did not know of the Bible until 1507 certainly he
was not what people of his school call an " up to date " theolo-
gian, qualified to lead a reformation. Perhaps, on the whole,
it may be admitted that he was ignorant of the Bible, since
with a knowledge of the Book he could hardly have gone into
the rebellion, if he had had an honest hair upon his head.

The truth nevertheless remains, that the first book printed
on the invention of printing was the Bible, and that before
Luther was born, 1483, fifty-eight editions of the Bible had
been printed in Latin alone ; and that prior to Luther's
famous chained Bible, in 1507, one hundred and twenty-nine
editions had appeared, thirty-eight of these being in the Ger-
man tongue. In 1507 small and cheap pocket editions were in
circulation. Protestants were even obliged to complain, that
Catholic countries were in advance of them in the printing
and circulation of the Scriptures. The British Museum alone
shows nearly thirty Catholic editions before Luther's Bible.

No doubt that there was a chained Bible at Erfurt in 1507.
Chained Bibles were found two hundred years later, as chained
directories are seen to-day in hotels. The Preface of the pre-
Luther German Bibles stated that the book was "for the use
of unlettered simple folk, lay and spiritual." They were quoted
freely in sermons ; and when Luther's edition appeared, Zwin-
gle, a fellow-reformer, charged Luther with changing and
mutilating the Word of God, which was deliberately done in
the King James translation, as the revised edition now shows.
Much of Luther's translation was plagiarized.

The Bible was published in Rome before Luther was born,
as well as in cities like Naples and Florence. The Popes con-
tributed to get the Bible into circulation. In France and
Spain many editions appeared, and it is estimated ithat three
hundred thousand Bibles were in circulation when Luther "dis-
covered " the Bible in 1507. In 1311 Pope Clement had ordered
the establishment of professorships for the study of the Sacred
Word; and Pius VI., in 1778, congratulated the Archbishop of
Florence on his success in placing the Scriptures in the hands
VOL. LXXI. 39

6 io PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. [Aug.,

of the people in their own tongue, as the Scriptures " ought
to be left open to every one." The history of the Popes is a
history of Bible advancement. Adam Clarke, the celebrated
Methodist commentator, declared that the Benedictine Calmet's
was, "without exception, the best commentary on the Sacred
Writings ever published, either by Catholics or Protestants."

Something like the facts of the case was recognized by an
Anglican clergyman at a recent missionary conference in New
York. It was admitted that the giving of the Scriptures to
the people in their own language was the policy of the Church
down to the sixteenth century, but that the Council of Trent,
in 1546, took "a fatal position" in opposition to the Scrip-
tures. Here is another of those falsehoods endowed with
perennial youth. It is a case calling for a companion picture
to that by Ward. We should have now " the Chaining of the
Bible at Trent."

THE BIBLE IN ENGLAND.

Now, any one acquainted with those times knows that the
sole aim of the Council was to guard the Bible from abuse.
At that time revolutionists and regicides had made the circula-
tion of the Bible politically dangerous, while Protestant re-
ligionists were distorting it in the most shocking manner in
the interests of their fell work. These men who declaim
against the Council of Trent may or may not be ignorant of the
actipn taken in England, by Henry VIII. and Cranmer, against
Tyndale's translation and all similar works. In 1546 Henry's
proclamation required that : Every man, woman, or child pos-
sessing any of these books should deliver them to the authori-
ties " to be speedily burnt." The Reformation was ushered in
by Bible burning. Scarcely a Bible or Testament was free
from comment of the most dangerous character, and inconsis-
tent with the peace of society. The Council of Trent, there-
fore, very wisely provided for the safeguarding of the Scriptures,
which is also done to-day. Now, as in every age, the Catholic
Church desires to have the Scriptures in the hands of the
people. On the part of Catholics there is no change of front.

Turning, to England, we find it untrue that Wycliffe's trans-
lation of the Bible was the first. It is also untrue that the
so-called translation was really by Wycliffe. He clearly took
advantage of the work of Catholic translators. Recent in-
vestigations by Protestants have well-nigh dissipated the claim.
Wycliffe never advocated the reading of the Bible in the verna-

1900.] PLACE OF THE BIBLE IN THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. 6n

cular, and the professed translation is not quoted in his own
sermons. Sir Thomas More testifies that in his day English
Bibles were in the hands of the laity, both men and women,
saying that he had seen them, and could show them, " fair and
old.'* Archbishop Cranmer testified to the circulation of the
Bible in pre-Reformation times ; while it is notorious that Bibles
were recklessly destroyed by Protestants in post-Reformation
days, in their war against convents and religious houses. It
was bad translations only that were condemned by Catholics,
who always, under proper conditions and true safeguards, ap-
proved the circulation of the Word of God. Indeed, the testi-
mony on these points is ample and overwhelming. We may
here be reminded of the fact that Pope Leo XII., in 1824, con-
demned the Bible societies, being followed in a similar vein
by Pius IX. in 1850. There is nothing, however, in these
cases to prove that the Popes were actuated by hostility to
the Bible. The societies have been condemned frequently by
Protestants with great severity. The action of these Popes,
like that of their predecessors, was justified. The condemnation
was justified by two facts, among others : First, that the Bible
societies send out bad translations of the Scriptures; and,
second, that they send them by agents prepared to make false
representations.

The King James version alone contains, on the confession of
the authors of the revised edition, thousands of errors ; among
the false translations being that of the Angelic Salutation, styling
the Blessed Virgin " highly favored " instead of " full of grace,"
plena gratia, which the commonest scholar knows is the only
true rendering.

Thus the Bible societies have sent their Bibles by thd hands
of agents to offer them in unsuspecting households, wherever
they could gain admission, circulating notoriously false teach-
ing* together with slanders upon the lives of the bishops and
clergy, and upon all parishes, churches, and religious institu-
tions. In every Catholic country and every Protestant country
where Catholics could be reached the work was the same, and
only recently has been moderated in some localities, by the
failure of funds resulting from the failure of the Protestant
faith, which in its weakened condition now says, instead of
"the Bible only," the Bible "only when we think it is right."

ST. PAUL'S PULPIT IN SALONICA.

A NEW JERUSALEM.

BY LUCY GARNETT.

ISING in the form of an amphitheatre from the
northern shore of its wide, land-locked bay,
Salonica stretches over the slopes of a broad
hill-side, flanked on either hand by extensive
cities of the dead, Moslem, Jewish, and Chris-
tian. Old battlemented walls, cyclopean at the base, but for
the most part mediaeval, completely surrounded the city some
thirty years ago, and still guard it on the west and north. The
white Kanli Kuleh, or " Bloody Tower," which occupied the
angle of the dernDlished walls, a missive circular structure dat-
ing from the Genoese occupation, still stands, and against its
outer courtyard wall the waves wash unceasingly. Intact, too,
is the far more ancient citadel dominating the town, its classic
name of Heptapyrgion still preserved in the Turkish Yedi
AW^ "the Seven Towers." Below it the red roofs of the
houses, interspersed with cypress and mulberry trees, stretch
terrace beyond terrace to the water's edge, while above them
rise here and there the stately domes and white minarets of
some twenty mosques.

I 9 00.]

A NE W JER USA LEM.

6i 3

Salonica, the Thessalonica of the New Testament, where St.
Paul preached to the Jews, and made "of the devout Greeks a
great multitude " of converts and " of the chief women not a
few," is a city which has played a prominent part as well in
the political as in the religious history of the East. Under its
more ancient name of Tnerma, Salonica was occupied by the
army of Xerxes, was taken by the Athenians at the beginning
of the Peloponnesian War, given up to Perdiccas, and retaken
by Pausanias. Cassander, who rebuilt the city in 315, gave to

"MEN GAMBLE WHEN THE DAY'S WORK is DONE."

it its new name in honor of his wife Thessalonik, the sister of
Alexander. When, after the battle of Pydna, it fell under
Roman rule and became the capital of the province of Mace-

614 A NEW JERUSALEM. [Aug.,

donia, its exceptional military and commercial position soon
made it the most important place on the west coast of the
^Egean. Later, as a reward for its advocacy of the cause of
Octavius and Anthony against Brutus and Cassius it obtained
the distinction of being created a free city. During the first
three centuries of our era, and even after the foundation of
Constantinople, Satonica remained the capital of all the coun-
try between the Adriatic and the Black Sea.

In the sixth and eighth centuries this yEgean capital was
the scene of many a sanguinary encounter with the invading
Slavs. In 904 it was taken and pillaged by the Saracens; and
in 1185 the Normans, under Tancred, took possession of the city
and treated its inhabitants with the greatest barbarity. At the
beginning of the thirteenth century it passed under the domina-
tion of the Marquises of Montferrat, who took the title of Em-
psrors of Salonica, was sold to the Venetians by the Emperors
of Constantinople, and was finally taken by the Turks in 1430.

\The aspect of Salonica has changed with marvellous rapidity
since its connection by rail with Belgrade, about a dozen
years ago, brought it into closer touch with Europe. On the
site of the old eastward walls a boulevard, flanked by hand-
some modern houses, has sprung up, and a suburb of villas
stretches for some two miles along the bend of the shore to
the formerly isolated bathing village of Kallameria. That
ancient highway, the Via Egnatia, which traversed Illyria, Epi-
rus, and Macedonia, and extended into Thrace, runs through
the city from west to east, spanned near the Kallameria Gate
by the Arch of Constantine, built to commemorate his victory
over the Sarmatians. Though in a ruinous condition, a tri-
umphal procession, in which camels figure, may still be recog-
nized on the marble bas-reliefs of its piers. Close by the turbe, or
shrine, of a Moslem saint projects into the main street its bowed
and latticed front, before which the pious repeat a fatiha for
the benefit of the deceased and the good of their own souls.

This and the other main streets of Salonica, especially in
the lower part of the city, present a scene of great animation,
in which East and West are curiously mingled. Primitive carts
from the neighboring villages, with solid wooden wheels, drawn
by yokes of long-horned buffaloes and driven by wild-look-
ing, long-haired Bulgarians in baggy breeches of brown home-
spun and towel bound head, are with difficulty steered clear of
the tramcars which convey passengers from the western end of
the city to its eastern suburb. Files of long-suffering donkeys

1900.]

JERUSALEM.

615

laden with building materials tiles in panniers and heavy
beams dragging behind are hurried along by merciless Jews,
who, not content with belaboring their sorry hides, goad the
poor beasts most cruelly, while they harrow the ears of the

"REPRESENTATIVES OF A SCORE OF NATIONALITIES JOSTLE EACH OTHER IN THE

NARROW STREETS."

passers-by with their excruciating cry of Ar r-r-r ! Greek
peasants in blue breeches and long-tasselled red fez, bringing
in the produce of their vineyards and gardens in enormous
baskets slung over the backs of mules and ponies, make way
for the pasha and his suite on horseback, or the carriage of
some foreign resident. Swaggering Albanians in voluminous

616 A NEW JERUSALEM. [Aug.,

white kilts, gorgeously embroidered jackets, and girdles bristling
with pistols and yataghans ; zaptiehs in green and red uni-
forms ; itinerant venders of every kind of edible, and represen-
tatives of a score of nationalities, jostle each other in the
narrow streets of the bazaars ; the copper-smiths carry on their
deafening trade in the little open shops of their quarter, and
in the roadway in front of their shops the barbers calmly
operate on the chins and heads of their customers, who, seated
on rush-bottomed chairs, meditatively sip cups of coffee and
smoke nargilehs while awaiting their turn at the hands of the
berber.

The population of 220,000 souls which this yEgean capital
boasted in the early centuries of our era has now dwindled to
some 120,000, and it is computed that nearly two-thirds of this
number now belong to the Hebrew race ; the Turks, Albanians,
Greeks, Franks, etc., constituting collectively but a small
minority. These Jews belong chiefly to the two sects of the
Ashkenazim and the Sephardim. The former includes the
descendants of the earlier Jewish settlers in the city, a colony
of whom appears to have existed here from very ancient
times local tradition says from the era of Alexander the
Great and the latter the posterity of those who on their ex-
pulsion from Spain in 1493 by Ferdinand and Isabella found
refuge in the Ottoman Empire. This immigration caused so
great an influx at Salonica as to convert the original some-
what insignificant Jewish colony into the largest; in existence.
The overwhelming numbers of the immigrants quite dominated
the existing Jewish element, and the Judaeo-Spanish idiom
which they brought with them, and which is written in Hebrew
characters, is now used both as the vernacular and literary
language by this race throughout Turkey.

Although the Spanish Jews during the four centuries since
their arrival have in some degree become blended with their
Oriental brethren, two distinct types may still be recognized.
The Sephardim are of fairer complexion and have much more
regular features than the Ashkenazim, the result possibly of
some foreign strain acquired during their long residence in
western Europe. They have also the peculiarity of the high
instep as distinguished from the flat foot of the Oriental Jew,
which, with their thick lips and certain other characteris-
tics, may be due, as suggested by some ethnologists, to an
original cross with negroes in the Arabian cradleland of their race.

The Jewish quarter at Salonica is almost as overcrowded as
a London slum, many families among the poor occupying one

1900.

A NEW JERUSALEM.

6.7

"THE JEWISH QUARTER AT SALONICA is ALMOST AS OVERCROWDED AS A
LONDON SLUM."

house a practice which is quite at variance with the habits of
the other native races of Turkey. This quarter has, too, dur-
ing the last fifty years largely encroached on the neighboring
Greek and Frank quarters, especially in the quarter of St.
Nicholas, where the ruins of the Hippodrome are to be found.
All that remains of this once stately structure are four Corin-
thian columns, the caryatids which, a few years ago, still stood
on the architrave having been carried away to France. The
name of Las Incantadas, by which the Jews designate this quar-
ter, had its origin in the belief that these caryatids were once
human beings petrified by enchantment. The upper stories of
many of the Jewish tenement houses are approached by out-
side staircases with wooden balconies, and the poorer streets
are dirty and malodorous in the extreme.

Yet, notwithstanding the unsanitary conditions under which
the laboring classes of the Jews live, they are on the whole
vigorous and healthy. The comparatively low rate of mortality
among them is no doubt largely due to the fondness for out-
of door life at all seasons which characterizes the community
generally, every species of domestic work which can be per

6i8

A NEW JERUSALEM.

[Aug.,

formed al fresco being brought out into the courtyard or to
the doorstep. There the women and girls do their washing,
cooking, making, and mending ; the mothers rock the cradles
or comb their little ones' heads ; the children play, quarrel,
and indulge in their amiable national propensity of stone-
throwing, and the men and youths lounge, smoke, and gamble
when the day's labor is. done.

The Jews of Turkey, both Ashkenazim and Sephardim,
differ in their religious beliefs from the Jews of the West not
only in being the most bigoted adherents of the doctrines of
the Talmud to be found anywhere, but also in observing many
rites and usages peculiar to themselves. In the matter of
"clean'- and " unclean " food they are, as might be supposed,
particularly strict, and the preparation of every article for con-
sumption is regulated by many strange and complicated rules.
Great attention is also paid to keeping separate the viands in-
tended, respectively for fast and feast days, any contact be-
tween the two rendering both unlawful. The Sabbath day is,

A JEWISH RABBI OF SALONICA.

JEWISH ARTISANS.

of course, most rigorously observed. Clothes, for instance,
which have been worn on working days can never again
form part of the Sabbath attire, which must be uncontami-

1900.]

A NE W JER USA LEM.

619

A GROUP OF THE FINER TYPE OF JEWS.

nated by labor. Tobacco is laid aside, for to smoke would
be to " touch fire," which is unlawful. Pockets or what may
do duty for them on other festivals are emptied of every arti-
cle, even to the handkerchief, which, if not altogether dispensed
with for the twenty-four hours, is worn round the waist as
part of the girdle, and so does not come under the categcry
of "things carried."

The wide green expanse outside the western walls called
the Meidan, or Common, presents on Friday evenings an ani-
mated and picturesque spectacle. Thither resort towards the
sunset hour numbers of Hebrew men and youths in their long
pelisses of various hues, and, standing about in groups, repeat
in concert their sunset prayers. The women take no part in
these open-air devotions, but, dressed in their best, await on
their doorsteps the return of the male members of the family.

The costume of the daughters of Israel is peculiar. It con-
sists of two or three gowns, or rather long, tight jackets open

62O

A NEW JERUSALEM.

[Aug.,

from the hip downwards, and worn over full Turkish trowsers.
None of these garments meet at the throat, but leave the
chest exposed, or at most only partially covered by the gauze
vests worn by the wealthy. The materials vary from printed
cotton to the richest brocaded silk damask ; but the designs
are always similar, namely, wide contrasting stripes of various
colors and white, with gay flower patterns running through
them. The matrons put away their back hair in a rectangular
bag of silk or stuff about twelve inches long by three or four
in width, the extremity being ornamented with a square of
embroidery and terminated by a fringe. This bag is attached
to a kind of cap which covers the top of the head, round
which fine muslin .'kerchiefs are bound, one of them passing
under the chin. In the case of the well-to-do handsome gold
bracelets are worn on the arms, and the headdress and throat
are decorated with strings of pearls. Pearls are indeed a pas-
sion with Jewesses of this city, the dress of only the very
poorest being without these ornaments.

A curious spectacle may be witnessed at Salonica on the
Day of Atonement, when, in addition to the customary afflic-

'.PEARLS ARE A PASSION WITH THE
JEWESSES OF THIS CITY."

THE MATRONS PUT THEIR HAIR IN A
BAG OF SILK."

A NE W JER USA L EM.

621

tion of their souls practised by children of Israel on that day,
those dwelling in this city repair in crowds to the quay and
there perform the ceremony of " casting their sins into the
sea." A belief is also locally current that their Messiah will,
after appearing at Jerusalem, travel
to Salonica by water, and his coming
is on this day of penitence more es-
pecially awaited by the multitudes
thronging the long quay.

Strictly, however, as the Eastern
Jews observe the ritual of their reli-
gion generally, they by no means
during the Feast of Tabernacles
" dwell in booth seven days." For
though to sleep in the tabernacle
is believed to insure all manner of
blessings, so great is the dread of
malarial fever that an occasional
siesta only is taken in it. Nor are
the booths composed of " boughs of
goodly trees, branches of palm-trees,
the boughs of thick trees, and willows
of the brook," but for the most part
are very lightly constructed of the
reeds which grow so plentifully in
the vast marshes at the mouth of
the Vardar the ancient Axius a few
miles from the city. Calling one day

during the course of this feast on a Jewish family, we were
conducted to the terrace which forms part of every Eastern
dwelling to see the tabernacle. It was a mean little square
construction, just large enough to hold a table and chairs for
the members of the household, the flat roof allowing the stars
to be seen between the covering reeds, in obedience to tradi-
tion. But, the booth apart, a more gorgeous banqueting hall
could hardly be imagined. Above, the Star-spangled canopy of
an Eastern sky ; behind and around, the red roofs, swelling
domes, graceful minarets, and old walls of the city ; and before
us the broad expanse of the land-locked bay on the distant
shores of which loomed mysteriously the dark mass of Olym-
pus, flanked on one side by Pelion and Ossa, and on the other
by the long line of the Cambunian hills.

A MOURNING COSTUME.

622 TEACHING MODERN L4NGUAGEs IN COLLEGE.

TEACHING MODERN LANGUAGES IN COLLEGE.

BY VERY REV. JOHN P. CARROLL, D.D.
PLACE OF MODERN -LANGUAGES.

I |N our Catholic colleges the modern languages
j [ occupy the last place ; this is the verdict of our
catalogues and of our graduates. If we except
J ; those colleges whose vehicle of instruction is
German, or which for practical reasons make a
course in German, French, Italian, or Spanish obligatory, the
modern languages, as a general rule, are omitted, or are elec-
tive, or receive scant attention for periods ranging from one to
three years.

In non-Catholic colleges, on the other hand, the modern
languages are assuming an importance which bodes ill to the
ancient classics. It is asserted that the study of the modern
is. not inferior in mental discipline to that of the ancient lan-
guages ; that " a man may have a liberal education without
knowing Latin and Greek " ; that it is more interesting, if not
more beneficial to the student, to have spread out before him
the literature and culture of modern peoples than to compel
him to dig out of dead languages the literature and culture of
the ancients. It is recommended that Latin and Greek be
made elective after the freshman year. A member of the
" Committee of Twelve of the Modern Language Association
of America" speaks of "the increasing extent to which the
study of the modern languages is superseding the classics in
our schools."

Now, what place should the modern languages occupy ? I
answer, first,

NOT ,SO PROMINENT A PLACE AS THE ANCIENT LANGUAGES ;

for to these latter tradition, experience, reason the very idea
of a college give the first place. For centuries two dead
languages Latin and Greek have formed the basis of all in-
tellectual training, and the greatest educators have recorded it
as their opinion that the study of these languages is the most
direct means of developing and enriching the mind of the

1900.] TEACHING MODERN LANGUAGES IN COLLEGE. 623

youth. Experience has shown that periods of classical revival
were also periods of great intellectual awakening, and that
whenever and wherever taste for the old letters declined there
was felt a corresponding deterioration in intellectual life.

And how could it be otherwise ? It is by reason by thought
and speech and, therefore, by language and literature that
man is man and is elevated above everything that is not him-
self. Hence, the nobler the literature, the more perfect the
language, the more potent will they be in developing the
youthful mind and imparting to it that strength and fulness
which makes man only a little less than the angels. Now,
what modern language and what modern literature can com-
pare with the languages and literatures of Greece and Rome ?
Never did human reason unaided by revelation soar so high
as she did on the wings of Plato ; never did her plummet
sound such depths as it did in the scientific hand of Aristotle.
Homer is the world's greatest poet and Demosthenes its great-
est orator. If literature is the expression of a people's thought,
Greece must have the noblest of literatures ; for it was in her
tongue that the master minds of the world expressed their
noblest thoughts, and the language they used has ever been
regarded as the perfection of human speech.

Cicero was not a philosopher; he originated no system of
metaphysics, he made no explorations into the arcana of na-
ture, he did not rise with Plato into the realms of the ideal
or dive down with Aristotle into the bowels of matter ; but
coming at the end of pagan domination he wove into one the
scattered fragments of doctrine left by the sages who had gone
before him, breathed into them the living spirit of the traditions
of the ages, and embalmed them in language which for clarity,
strength, and rhythm has never been surpassed. Who that has
read intelligently the first of Cicero's immortal orations does
not find his ears still ringing with the music of those inimita-
ble lines, does not even hear again the thunders of that magnifi-
cent voice as it rolls out those grand old periods that swayed
the conscript fathers and lashed into fury the popular indigna-
tion against Catiline and his fellow-conspirators ? The power
and majesty of the Roman tongue is incarnated in Cicero.

Our modern languages, it is true, have qualities peculiarly
their own : we admire the precision of the French, the sim-
plicity of the German, the ruggedness of the Anglo-Saxon ;
but these qualities are found in all their combined perfection
in the tongues of Homer and Cicero. We are charmed by the

624 TEACHING MODERN LANGUAGES IN COLLEGE. [Aug.,

music of the Italian and the sonorousness of the Spanish ; yet
all this is but as sounding brass compared with the gold and
silver speech of our Greek and Latin forefathers.

Greek and Latin are, therefore, the most perfect of all
languages, and as, being dead, they are susceptible of no fur-
ther development, they easily lend themselves to scientific
analysis. It is this character of perfection and fixity that
makes them suitable models for study and imitation. Being
living, modern languages lack both perfection and fixity. They
are ever subject to the caprices of usage, " quern penes arbi-
trium est et jus et norma loquendi." This is why they are in-
capable of becoming an essential object or a principal means
of higher education. As the tyro in anatomy is given the
cadaver or the manikin, not of an infant or a youth but that
of a full-grown human form on which to base all his studies,
so the novice in letters should make, not growing languages
but those that have attained their fullest development, the
foundation stone of his literary education. It is with the lan-
guages as with reasoning. Unless the principles of reasoning
be certain and immutable, the conclusions drawn therefrom
will never rise above the clouds of doubt ; likewise, unless the
forms of expression be fixed and stable, the science and the
art of language will ever remain an ignis fatuus. Like the
philosophers of whom St. Paul speaks, students whose literary
education is based exclusively on the shifting sands of modern
languages will be ever learning, but never coming to a knowl-
edge a scientific knowledge of language or of literature.
"Semper discentes, sed nunquam ad scientiam pervenientes."

ANCIENT LANGUAGES ARE THE MOTHER TONGUES OF OUR
MODERN LANGUAGES.

Another reason why the ancient languages should hold the
first place is because they are the mother tongues of our mod-
ern languages. To speak only of English nearly three-fourths
of our words have come from the Latin, and all, or nearly all,
our scientific terms are of Greek origin.

Again, our modern intellectual civilization is but an out-
growth of the civilization of Greece and Rome ; and as litera-
ture is the expression of intellectual civilization, it is in the
languages of Greece and Rome' that we must look for the
sources of all that is noblest and best in our modern in-
tellectual life. To substitute, therefore, the modern languages
for the ancient in our curriculum of studies would be to for-

TEACHING MODERN LANGUAGES IN COLLEGE. 625

sake the original for the copies. Such a procedure would
be unscientific ; instead of rising from effect to cause and study-
ing effects in their causes, we would be ever groping along
in the dark and dismal region of fact, and our knowledge would
ever be that of the crowd " cognitio vulgaris." If, therefore,
the college stands for liberal knowledge, and if liberal knowl-
edge, to use the definition of Cardinal Newman, means a
knowledge, not of facts but of causes, we must give the first
place in our literary courses to the mother languages of our
modern civilization, or cease to give the name of " college " to
our institutions of higher learning.

TRANSLATIONS FUTILE.

It were vain to urge that a knowledge of Greek and Roman
civilization can be obtained from translations. As well might
one say, a knowledge of Ireland can be obtained by attending a
stereopticon lecture on " A Jaunt through the Emerald Isle."
The pictures may be faithful copies of Erin's peaceful lakes
and winding bays, of her round towers and ruined abbeys, of
her statesmen and her peasants ; the lecturer may exhaust all
the powers of language in describing the manners and customs,
the personal and domestic virtues, the generous hospitality and
the unrivalled wit of her people. The auditor is entertained,
instructed, accurately and thoroughly informed, if you will ; yet
he does not know Ireland nor the Irish. The reason is that
knowledge comes through feeling ; it is fed and kept alive by the
imagination. To feel one must see and hear, and without feel-
ing the imagination is a dry and barren faculty. Just as to
know Ireland, therefore, one must live in that country and come
in daily contact with its people, so to know Greek and Roman
civilization one must hear the Greeks and Romans speak in
their own tongues and not through the unnatural, awkward
medium of a modern language. A Greek or Roman author
dressed in the Eriglish or German or French vernacular looks
like David in the armor of Saul. As the tragedian feels and
thinks and speaks and acts like Julius Caesar, and, therefore,
to his audience becomes Julius Caesar, only when he dons the
costume of the great dictator, so the student can realize and
assimilate the thoughts and feelings of the Greeks or Romans
only when he puts on the garb of their language.

Finally, Latin is the official language of the church ; it is
the language of philosophy and theology. Now, as many of
the students in our colleges are making with us their remote
VOL. LXXI. 40

626 T REACHING MODERN LANGUAGES IN COLLEGE. [Aug.,

preparation for the priesthood, they should have, on completing
their classical course, not only an intelligent reading knowledge
but also a fair speaking knowledge of Latin, if they would
mike any satisfactory progress in their seminary studies.

My first answer, therefore, to the question, What place
should the modern languages occupy in the curriculum of
studies? is that they should not occupy so prominent a place
as the ancient languages. My second answer is that

THEY SHOULD OCCUPY A MORE PROMINENT PLACE THAN THE
ONE WE ASSIGN THEM.

If Greek and Latin are the mother tongues of all modern
intellectual civilization, the modern languages, each after its
own manner, emphasize peculiar features of the parent sources.
The ancient languages are the sun which illuminates the whole
intellectual sky and in whose white light are blended the
various tints of human learning; the modern languages are the
rainbow whose many colors are the solar ray refracted and
dissolved by its passage through the prism of political revolu-
tions. Now, if a separate examination of the various colors
of the rainbow aids us to a conscious and more thorough ap-
preciation of the peerless blending of the orb of day, surely
the study of the modern languages cannot but strengthen and
increase our knowledge of that luminary of the ancient tongues
whose steady rays they so variously reflect. Analysis is a
scientific process. The study of the various characteristics of
the ancient languages as reflected in the modern is, therefore,
no less scientific ; and if scientific, therefore broadening and
liberalizing. Hence, the college, which is the home of liberal
studies, should give the modern languages a no unimportant
place in its curriculum.

Again, science is a knowledge of a thing by its causes.
The thing we desire most to know is our own language
English ; not indeed for its own sake, but because it is to us
the instrument of thought and speech, of communion with
self and of communication with our fellow-man ; it is the
" key that unlocks the treasure house of knowledge ; it is the
philosopher's stone, the true alchemy that turns everything it
touches into gold." Now, to know English well, to know it
thoroughly, to know it scientifically, we must know it by its
causes. These are, as I have said, first of all the ancient
languages Greek and Latin ; but after these, several of the

1900.] TEACHING MODERN LANGUAGES IN COLLEGE. 627

modern languages. English is originally a Teutonic tongue de-
rived immediately from the Low German, of which it is the
lowest dialect. In course of time there were engrafted on it
many Latin words, so that to-day, as I have had occasion to
remark before, English is nearly three-fourths Latin. A great
many of these Latin words, however, have come to us through
the medium of the Norman-French. To have a scientific knowl-
edge of our language, therefore, we should know both German
and French. This is an additional reason why certain modern
languages should not be omitted from the college curriculum.
There is still another. One of the aims of the college is to
prepare the student for university work. Now, no matter what
specialty the student pursue in the university be it theology,
or philosophy, or medicine, or law, or astronomy, or sociology,
or economics, or the physical sciences he will find it necessary,
if he would make any original research, to know several of
the modern languages. Time was when Latin was the medium
of scientific thought, but, unfortunately for science and the
scientist, that time is passed. If, therefore, the college would
do well its work of preparation for the university, it must give
the student at least the beginnings of several modern languages.

AIM IN TEACHING.

The aim in teaching is to give good reading knowledge, so
that the student may be able to appreciate not only the news-
paper and magazine articles, but also the great master-pieces.
His speaking and writing knowledge should be sufficient to
enable him to progress without the aid of a teacher. To at-
tain this end three hours a week during three years of the
course would, I think, suffice, especially if the Latin grammar
were first thoroughly mastered.

METHOD OF TEACHING.

I believe I would lose time in prescribing any special
method. The method will vary according to the teacher and
the pupil,; A living teacher, having a thorough knowledge of
the language he is teaching, but especially of the language in
which he is teaching, will use the proper method. He will
pay attention to pronunciation and idiom. He will attach
more importance to oral and written practice than to analysis.
Remembering that difficulties lie at a more advanced stage
than in the ancient languages, he will endeavor to reach that
stage as rapidly as accuracy will permit.

628 TEACHING MODERN' LANGUAGES IN COLLEGE. [Aug.,

WHAT LANGUAGES SHOULD BE TAUGHT?

From a practical point of view : German, Spanish, Italian,
and French, and in the order named. German, because it is
the language of a large and increasing number of our fellow-
citizens of foreign birth. Spanish, because it is the language of
all our newly acquired possessions. Italian, because it is the
language of the country from which the largest number of
immigrants are coming and are likely to come for some years.
Moreover, these people are Catholics, and to hold them in the
faith those graduates of our colleges who enter the missionary
field must for some time appeal to them in their own lan-
guage. French, because it is the most serviceable language for
the American traveller, whether he visit the Dominion of
Canada or the Continent of Europe. Lower Canada is prac-
tically all French, and Upper Canada is fast becoming so at
least in point of population. Outside of England each country,
with the exception of France, has, besides its own, another
language which serves as a medium of communication with its
neighbors and the visiting world generally a language which
is taught in its schools and which ranks in importance second
only to its own. Invariably that language is French. I don't
say that English has no place on the Continent, for there as
everywhere it is the language of commerce ; but on the Con-
tinent French is the language of international communication
in society, in politics, in the professions, while in France
French alone is spoken.

From literary and scientific points of view French and Ger-
man should be taught. French, because it is the language of
the highest modern civilization, the most perfect copy of the
clearness and logical precision of the ancient Greek and Latin,
the language of the reason, x>f abstraction, a language through
which has come into our English tongue a large portion of
those Latin words which so extensively constitute our vocabu-
lary ; finally, its prose is unequalled by that of any other
modern language, German, because it is the language of the
senses, of nature, and for richness of vocabulary and facility
in combination of words approaches most nearly to the ancient
Greek. Moreover, the Anglo-Saxon portion of our language is
derived from the same parent tongue as the German. Finally,
as means of catching the scientific thought of the day, while
other languages may be useful, French and German are abso-
lutely indispensable.

St. Joseph's College, Dubuque, Iowa.

INDIAN CONTRACT SCHOOLS. 629

INDIAN CONTRACT SCHOOLS.

BY M. P. CASEY.

T is the duty of nations not only to protect their
subjects and those living under their constitutions,
but to so instruct them that they may become
good citizens.

When a race or tribe living under a govern-
ment is in a state of wildness, uncivilized, and is a source of
danger to the commonwealth, because it refuses to conform to
the laws of the nation, it is the duty of the government to
make use of the means best adapted to civilize this people ;
to change them from enemies into friends or loyal citizens.

Now, the best means of civilizing a people is to educate
them properly. It is the right, as well as the duty, of the na-
tion to supply the means for education ; to see that the in-
struction given is in no way contrary to the constitution, to
society, or to the individual ; and, moreover, that the education
given tends to make good citizens.

The Constitution of this country guarantees religious free-
dom to all. For the government to insist upon instruction in
any particular religious belief would be contrary to the Con-
stitution.

It is universally acknowledged by intelligent and thinking
men that without religion there can be no morality, for with-
out religion how can there be any criterion of right or wrong
except mere expediency? Without a belief in God how can
there be any impediment to vice, wickedness, injustice ? What
power is there to restrain the passions? Perhaps some one will
say, society its laws, the civil laws. The laws of society do
not take cognizance of the guilt. Be the offender ever so
guilty, and yet fortunate enough, as is often the case, to escape
the penalty of imprisonment, even though the offender be fined,
society receives such a one on the old footing, and even often
gives him a cordial welcome.

The laws of man can never completely restrain vice or crime,
as they do not act until knowledge of the crime is made known ;
so that the offender has no dread of the law so long as he can
manage to escape the eyes of the law. Thus, the only deterrent

630 INDIAN CONTRACT SCHOOLS. [Aug.,

to crime is the fear of being found out ; and the only condemna-
tion of the guilt of the offence is the shame, the disgrace that fol-
lows conviction with imprisonment. So that the morality, the so-
called morality of the world, consists in not being found out ; and
if found- out, then in escaping conviction with imprisonment.
This being the case, it follows that without religion there can be
no true morality, no check to the human passions, no restraint
to vicious desires, no power to make us fear the commission of
evil or acts of injustice. And hence a people, when brought
up without the knowledge and fear of God, cannot be or be-
come good citizens ; for there is nothing to check them in
whatsoever they desire or aim at, nothing to restrain what-
soever selfish desire they or their friends may have, nothing to
prevent them from passing unjust laws or from unjustly dis-
criminating against others.

In order, then, to assist the Indians to become good and peace-
able citizens, it is necessary to give them religious together with
secular instruction. Some object to the state providing reli-
gious instruction, on 'the ground that it is contrary to the Con-
stitution. The difficulty of this question was settled by the
government in an impartial and just manner ; in fact, in the
only way that it could have been settled with justice to the
religious convictions of the Indians and to the satisfaction of all.

Some years ago this government instituted what is called the
Indian Contract Schools. The government entered into contracts
with the heads of the different religious denominations where-
by they were each to build their own schools, and for every
Indian child who attended these schools the government was to
pay so much money. Here was the solution of the difficulty in a
nutshell. This was giving justice to all, and at the same time it
was fulfilling the spirit of the Constitution and proving ourselves
what we say we are-^-a Christian nation. This was giving educa-
tion in the true sense ; for a knowledge of God, of man's origin,
of his destination,' the reason of his sojourn on earth, elevates
the mind of man, gives a right reason for his actions, a greater
respect for lawfully constituted authority, and furnishes him
with the highest motives for obeying the laws, respecting
authority, contributing to support of government, as well as a
zeal for its welfare, and a determination to fight and die for its
honor and preservation.

The Indian Contract Schools were instituted with the true
spirit the spirit of fairness and justice and were doing nicely,
when the proverbial tempest in a teapot arose the result of

1900.] INDIAN CONTRACT SCHOOLS. 631

which may be partly surmised, and if surmised correctly, the
final result will be far-reaching and injurious.

After the contract was entered into, the Catholics, at great
expense, built and furnished their schools. The different denomi-
nations also erected their schools ; but it appears their schools
were not a success in regard to attendance, while the Catholic
schools had nothing to complain of on that score.

Now comes the story of the dog in the manger. The un-
successful schools not being able to draw satisfactory appro-
priations from the government owing to the small attendance
of children, determined that the successful schools should also
cease to draw satisfactory appropriations nay, that they
should cease to exist. To this end they appealed to Congress
to cancel the contracts entered into with the different religious
denominations.

It is the case of a beneficent merchant who, knowing that
his goods will benefit the people as well as himself, wishes to
dispose of them. For this purpose he engages ten agents,
entering into a contract to pay them so much on their sales.
After a few years nine of these agents finding their sales de-
creasing, and seeing that it was not proving a paying busi-
ness to them, call upon the merchant and ask him to rescind
his contract with all his agents. When he learns the truth he
is surprised at their request. He is willing to release the peti-
tioners ; but they can give no reason why he should break the
contract with the successful agent. It is to the merchant's in-
terest to continue that contract, and moreover justice demands
that after the large expenses this agent incurred in order to insure
the success of his contract it should stand. The only reason that
he can see for the request of the unsuccessful agents is selfish-
ness jealousy. His opinion of these agents must be very low
indeed, especially as they wish him to break his plighted word.
He sees that if these agents had his interest at heart, if they
were manly and honest, if they had the least spark of honor,
as they could not succeed themselves they would have only asked
to have themselves released, and they would have advised him to
make the successful man his only agent, inasmuch as he proved
that he was fully capable of disposing of the goods and of
making them of the greatest benefit to all who used them.

These unsuccessful agents, however, having wealthy and
influential friends, call upon them and succeed in getting them
to speak to the merchant. They prevail on the merchant to
cancel all his contracts, and at the same time a new and simple

632 INDIAN CONTRACT SCHOOLS. [Aug.,

way of disposing of the goods is proposed, so that the people
would continue to receive them.

The new scheme succeeded as far as the disposal of the goods
is concerned, because there was a great demand for them. But
after a trial of years it was found that, instead of the people
receiving the supposed benefit attached to the use of these goods,
these goods were proving to them a real source of injury. The
merchant, upon investigation, found, however, that the goods
received by the people from the successful agent years before had
proved and were proving a blessing to them. Unable to under-
stand this, he called upon the agent and asked him if, and how, he
could account for it, saying, "The goods you gave the people and
the goods that I am giving them are the same ; how, then, does it
happen that the goods that I give now do not have the effect that
I expected and desired, while the same goods delivered by
you bring about the very effect that I desire?" The agent ex-
plained that though the goods were the same, and useful to the
people, yet as the people were not properly instructed in regard
to their use, these goods, instead of being a benefit, only proved
an injury; that he himself, at great expense, did . everything
that was possible to become thoroughly instructed in the
knowledge of the use of the goods, so that he was able to im-
part this knowledge to those who received the goods from him.
Hence the people knew how to use them so as to receive their
full benefit, and thus appreciated them the more.

This you will find is the case of the government in connec-
tion with the Indian Contract Schools. Our nation wished
the Indian children to avail themselves of the benefit of edu-
cation. For this purpose the nation entered into a contract
with different religious bodies to educate the Indian. All of
these bodies but one failed in getting the Indian children in
sufficient numbers to appreciate the advantage of education.
Hence the result as mentioned before. The heads of the un-
successful schools, with their many powerful and influential
friends, appealed to Congress to cancel the Indian School Con-
tract, suggesting and strongly urging the government to take
upon itself the education of the Indian. If these schools had
the interest of the Indians at heart, and a sincere desire for
their civilization, would they have opposed the successful school?

The merchant, adopting the system that was forced upon him,
of disposing of his goods himself, found that, although the de-
mand for them was great, yet the benefit that should accrue from
their -use was not obtained ; yea, that the goods, instead of

1900.] INDIAN CONTRACT SCHOOLS. 633

proving a benefit, only proved an injury, because the customers
were not instructed in their use. The government did succeed
in getting numbers of Indian children to accept secular edu-
cation, but it was found by years of experience that godless
education, instead of proving a blessing, on the contrary
proved an injury a curse.

This is not the pessimistic view of narrow-minded men.
It is the view of broad-minded, deep-thinking, and observant
men. About a year ago Governor Rollins, of New Hampshire,
in order to check irreligion and crime, issued a fast day
proclamation, in which he said t 4< that religion in his State
was decaying fast." In an address, not long ago, before the
Boston Ministers' Union Governor Rollins declared that with-
out Christianity our government must go the same way that
other governments have gone, to decay. He also said that
Christianity is losing its hold over our people. And he at-
tribated this decline in religion to a drifting away from reli-
gious belief. To this decay of religion alone can be attributed
the prevalence of immorality and crime.

We have no doubt that godless schools imparting education
are flourishing in New Hampshire, and we hear the result from
the governor of that State. Can it not, then, be safely pre-
dicted that, when such is the result in a New England State,
the same system of godless education will prove not a benefit,
but an injury to the Indians? Education without religion only
puffs up and at last ruins ; but with religion it improves, en-
lightens the mind, and ennobles the man.

The work of civilizing the Indian is a duty we owe to God,
to our country, and to the Indian. We have been striving for
this object for years, at great expense ; and what has been our
success? The short history of our country shows us, the news-
papers tell us, the death of brave and gallant men only a few
years ago convinces us, that our efforts as a nation have been
a failure.

Some people think that the Indians cannot be civilized, that
the savage nature or instinct is too strong within them. The
saying, which has almost become proverbial to many, " The
only good injun is a de,ad injun," expresses the opinion of
many as to the manner of treatment they should receive.

Can the Indian be civilized ? If so, in what manner and by
whom ?

Senator Vest, a Protestant, answered this question in Con-
gress when speaking of the Catholic schools. In reply to an

634 INDIAN CONTRACT SCHOOLS.

objection of Senator Dawes, of Massachusetts, he said : " Let
me say a word to the senator from Massachusetts. I do not
speak with* any sort of denominational prejudices in favor of
the Jesuits. I was taught to abhor the whole sect. I was
raised in that good old-school Presbyterian Church that looked
upon the Jesuits as very much akin to the devil. But I say
now, that if the senator from Massachusetts, the chairman of
the Committee on Indian Affairs, will find me any tribe of
Indians on the continent of North America that approximates
in civilization to the Flatheads, who have been under the con-
trol of the Jesuits for fifty years, I will abandon my entire
theory on the subject. I say that out of the eleven tribes
that I saw and I say this as a Protestant where they had
Protestant missionaries they had not made a single, solitary
advance towards civilization not one. And yet among the
Flatheads, where there were two Indian missions, you find
farms, you find civilization, you find Christianity, you find a
relation of husband and wife and of father and child scrupu-
lously observed. I say that one ounce of prevention is worth
a ton of theory at any time ; and this I say, and I know it."

What stronger plea could be made to a body of fair-
minded men to men who had the interest of the nation and
the interest of the Indians at heart than this speech of Sen-
ator Vest for a continuation of the Indian Catholic schools?
But there is a stronger interest than country and Indian the
selfish interest of the individual, the sordid interest of self.
There is no mind so dark and unfair as the mind of a bigot
who would shut out the light that he may not see, and then
protest, as an excuse when called to account, that as he could
not see he could not be expected to decide otherwise.

The assertion of Senator Vest is a challenge to every
Protestant denomination ; it is a most sweeping condemnation
of the policy of the government in regard to the civilization
of the Indian. And the conclusion to be drawn from it is
that if the government is sincere in its wish to civilize the
Indian, its only course is to continue the contract with the
Catholic schools, and not to put impediments in the way
of Catholic missionaries, but to give them every opportunity
for the continuance of their work.

The speech of Senator Vest contains two assertions : one
"that out of the eleven tribes that he had visited, where they
had Protestant missionaries they had not. made a single, soli-
tary advance towards civilization." This is a strong assertion

IQOO.] INDIAN CONTRACT SCHOOLS. 635

coming from a Protestant. Has the truth of it ever been
questioned ? It cannot be a difficult undertaking to ascertain
the truth. If untrue, would the Protestant denominations sub-
mit to suffer quietly under such charge ? However, at the
least, it must have been a great surprise and shock to the
Protestant denominations.

But was the other assertion of Senator Vest a surprise ?
When speaking of one tribe, the Flatheads, he says: "Where
there were two Indian missions, you find farms, you find civil-
ization, you find Christianity, you find a relation of husband
and wife and of father and child scrupulously observed." Were
the people surprised at hearing of the success of the Catholic
Church with the Indians? If so, they should not have been.
If they have read history, and read it correctly, they should
know what the church has done in regard to civilization.

History informs us that the torrent of barbarians that
swept down from the north, overthrowing the Roman Empire
and rushing to many parts of Christendom, threatened to
engulf civilization. Wheresoever these barbarians settled litera-
ture and science began to decline and ignorance to prevail.
These tribes recognized no law but the law of brute force.
Who or what was to check or turn aside the evils that menaced
the progress of civilization ? What power strong enough to
cope with that barbarian horde, who feared neither God
nor man, and who in their brute strength overthrew the
Roman Empire ? History tells us it was the Church of God ;
that under the influence of the teaching of that church the
impulses and passions of their wild barbarian natures began to
yield to the precepts of the Gospel, and that gradually they
began to imbibe and to adopt the principles of civil and social
life. This the church has done in the past yea, has ever been
doing, and is doing at the present. It is a work to which she is
especially fitted and for which her missionaries receive a special
training.

With a knowledge of the success of the church in civilizing
barbarian nations our own wild Indians included with this
success attested to and confirmed by Protestants, who have no
love for the church, how, in the name of justice, of Christianity,
of civilization, can our nation attempt to suppress the good al-
ready done, to cripple that church and its schools, in the work
of civilizing the Indian, by curtailing the appropriation, by
cancelling the contract entered into, and by substituting god-
less education for the only agency which can civilize the

636 INDIAN CONTRACT SCHOOLS. [Aug.,

Indian. And this nation, calling itself a Christian nation, is
about to sanction such, nay, to force its children, the wards
of the nation, into a system of education that excludes the
knowledge of God !

The aim of the government in educating the Indian is to
civilize him to qualify him to become a good and useful
member of the community and a citizen of the United States.
Now, whatsoever body of men can point to success in such
undertaking, to that body of men should be given the educat-
ing of the Indian. To attempt to shackle those who alone
hive been successful by refusing to assist them cannot be re-
garded otherwise than as suicidal, and it is evident that the
civilization of the Indian cannot be the principal aim of the
government.

Those children, wards of the nation, are sending up their
piteous cries asking for bread, and their father at Washington
is offering them a stone. Their heart-rending cries from the
woods, plains, and reservations " Save us, we perish " are re-
sounding in our ears. Can Christians close their ears to this
cry or harden their hearts against it? This cry is not for the
wants of the body, but for the wants of the soul. The people
of this nation are most generous in responding to the cry of
distress when calamity comes. The knowledge of the sufferings
of humanity from shipwreck, floods, famine, and disease is always
answered with a generous response. The reports of the sufferings
of soldiers in battle the cries and shrieks of the wounded and
the dying, touch a sympathetic chord in our hearts, and arouse
us to action, to assist the distressed and alleviate the sufferings,
and if possible to prevent their repetition. This is as it should
be. The sufferings and cries of distress should always find a
responsive answer in the hearts of all civilized human beings.
But here is a cry from the soul of humanity a cry of dis-
tress that is more urgent than the cry of distress from the
body, and which should never go unheeded, especially by Chris-
tians.

The Saviour of mankind tells us ''not to fear them that
kill the body, but rather fear him who can destroy both soul
and body." How as a Christian nation do we receive and
apply these words of the Founder of Christianity? Is it by
giving secular education, the result of which only makes the
Indian more solicitous for his body? Is it by permitting the
Indian child to grow up without a knowledge of his soul, of his
Creator, and without teaching him the highest reason for re-

1900.] INDIAN CONTRACT SCHOOLS. 637

specting and obeying the laws the highest and most noble
reason for leading and living a good life ?

Now, as the wants of the soul are superior to those of
the body ; as the effects of sufferings, wounds, and disease
upon the soul are attended with more serious and lasting
danger than those of the body ; as the neglect of the soul
produces dangers that may not in the beginning be apparent
but will eventually show themselves with grave danger to the
individual, the community, and the nation, it follows that the
soul crying out from its sufferings, hunger, and darkness for
assistance, knowledge, and light should be met with a more
responsive and sympathetic answer from Christians.

Yet it appears that the sad, mournful cry from the soul of
the Indian "Save us, we perish" fails to awaken a response.
That cry is echoing and re-echoing through the halls of the
legislature in the Capitol at Washington, trying to reach and
to touch the heart of the nation ; but it appears the ear of the
nation is deaf to the voice of its words, and the heart of the
nation hardened against it.

This Christian nation soothes its conscience by appealing to
the clause of religious equality contained in the Constitu-
tion. Now, what does this religious equality mean ? What
does it forbid ? It means that every individual is guaranteed
the right of holding and practising whatsoever religious belief
he desires. It forbids any interference in religion, any dis-
crimination against any individual or body on account of reli-
gious belief. As the avowed purpose of the government is
to make the Indian a peaceful and intelligent member of this
Christian nation, and as education with Christian instruction
is the best and only means of attaining this end and as the
Indian Contract Schools give to all Indian children secular
with religious instruction of whatsoever belief they, their
parents, or guardians desire it follows that the Indian Con-
tract School system is not only not contrary to the Constitu-
tion, but is the only system that is fully in conformity with it.

638 PEASANT LIFE IN THE HARZ. [Aug.,

PEASANT LIFE IN THE HARZ.

BY CARINA CAMPBELL EAGLESFIELD.

:N no country of Europe is it possible to see such
sharply marked distinctions among the different
classes or such a variety of types as in Germany.
The unity of the empire is almost entirely a
political matter, for at heart every German is,
first, Bavarian or Saxon or Suabian. He owes his allegiance
to his Emperor, who gratifies his national pride ; but his af-
fections cling to his own prince, and he jealously preserves the
characteristics of his particular corner of the empire.

Yet the march of progress has changed many things in the
past twenty years, and ancient local customs are being swiftly
obliterated by the temporary fashions of the hour. Of all
classes the peasants are most tenacious of their customs, dress,
and manners, and even they are succumbing to the spirit of
the times. One has to know Germany pretty well before he
can penetrate into those parts which are as yet untouched by
change ; but when found, it is like living in another century.

In North Germany and quite apart from the tourist's path
lies a little settlement of peasants, perhaps a day's journey
from Berlin, where one can study a people which have changed
little for hundreds of years. These Spree-forest peasants, as
they are called, cling to their peculiar customs and wear their
impossible dress just as they have done from time immemorial.
But this region lies far out of the beaten track, and there are
many quaint and original spots which are nearer home. Such
little peasant villages can be found in the mountain regions
of Germany, and ttye Black Forest or the Harz will amply re-
pay a visit.

In the Black Forest the houses >have kept their peculiar
character better than anywhere else, but one can unearth little
villages in the Harz which are quite as characteristic and
within reach of the modern conveniences also, which combina-
tion is better suited to the ordinary traveller.

The bright, variegated dress of the women has quite disap-
peared, but the men still cling to the low tied shoe, the
leathern short trousers with their rows of white buttons, and
the tall, funnel shaped hat, and one sees many stout figures in

1900.]

PEASANT LIFE IN THE HARZ.

639

" MODERN BUILDING PROCESSES ARE SCORNED BY THE HARZ PEASANTRY."

loose smocks belted at the waist and reaching sometimes to
the ankles. Wooden shoes are worn by every one, and the
local policemen stalk solemnly up and down in their tmn uni-
forms and brilliantly embroidered felt slippers, which contrast
does not strike the native as unusual in the least.

The Harz peasants are an honest, thrifty lot, very indepen-
dent and proud, but also full of religious feeling, and a book
might be written on their beliefs and customs. At funerals,
births, and marriages every act is invested with meaning, and
a legend or proverb is quickly brought forward to combat
sceptical doubts. Godfathers and mothers to the number of
twenty-four sometimes accompany the baby to the baptismal
font, and little gifts are exchanged and refreshments of sausages,
cake, beer, and brandy are/ served before and after the cere-
mony. The young girls wear wreaths, from which they pick
flowers to give to the young godfathers, and these in turn
present them with an orange or lemon, which they carry in
their hands. They have a carious superstition that the child
will die if it receives the name of either parent, and this is only
done when they wish it to be the last baby in the family. A
grand supper of chocolate, soup and roast pork, with preserves,
is served after the baptism, and the festivities end with a

6 io PEASANT LIFE IN THE HARZ. [Aug.,

dance. Everything begins and ends with a dance in the Harz
mountains, and their balls begin at four o'clock in the afternoon.

The peasants are devoted to giving presents, and every
opportunity is seized to show such attentions ; godfathers and
mothers must give the godchild gifts till he is four years old,
and sometimes after that.

Many curious superstitions are connected with the first
teeth, and woe to the baby who does not have his little white
teeth properly hidden or buried ! The confirmation ceremonies
are also invested with pomp, and lemons, oranges, and wreaths
are again exchanged on their way to church. The lemon
plays a very important part at such times, and its odor is sup-
posed to be efficacious in fainting. The girls, who are usually
thirteen or fourteen years old, always wear a long black dress,
white apron, white 'kerchief, and black lace cap, which is often
trimmed with twelve long, stiff ribbons, while the boys present
a brave appearance in their first white shirt and stove-pipe hat.

After the ceremony they regale themselves with a supper
of many different kinds of sausage, and if the weather is
pleasant all go to the woods for a walk. The Harz peasant
has his own way of getting married, and instead of pre-
senting his bride with a ring, gives her a prayer-book, which
seems a rather odd substitute to us. When the banns are
called it is customary for the bride elect to appear each
Sunday in a new gown, with a wreath upon her head. She is
expected to make her husband's bridal shirt, knit him one
pair of stockings, and buy him a black silk necktie, while he
in turn gives her brooch and ear-rings. On the bridal evening
children throw broken dishes in front of his house, and the
more pieces there are the more happiness will come to the
young pair. Guns are shot off at all hours of the day and
night ; the way from the bride's house to the church is strewn
with flowers, and a wreath as big as a good-sized wagon wheel
is laid upon the altar. Bridal veils are never worn, as they
bring misfortune. That the young bridegroom may not lack for
bread in life, a crust is stuck in his pocket and a small piece
of money in his boot. Rain is, strangely enough, considered
very lucky on the wedding day, and if the heavens are not
propitious a shower of barley must be thrown from the bride's
window. The bridal procession is usually very long, but a
curious custom keeps the parents of both bride and groom at
home, which would seem sad enough to us. No matter how
difty the way, the bride is not allowed to lift her dress, and if

PEASANT LIFE IN THE HARZ.

641

either looks backward it is a sign that he or she is thinking of
a second helpmate.

Guns are again fired off while the procession is under way,
and upon entering the church they circle slowly around the
altar and lay upon it the offering for the pastor. The bride
and groom then seat themselves in the pastor's chair, and while

"New HOUSES ARE PUT UP IN THE SAME PRIMITIVE FASHION."

a song is being sung take their places under the immense
wreath. Whoever wishes to gain the upper hand in the mar-
ried life must see that his foot touches the threshold first.

There seems to be a good deal of eating and drinking on
these occasions, and the number of gifts which are exchanged
would bankrupt them if the amount were not so infinitesimal.

If these Harz peasants are ushered into life with signs and
omens, baptized, confirmed, and married with them, it is small
wonder that death is presaged with an infinity of portents.
A raven or owl flying over a house brings death, and white
clover leaves are a sign of the dread destroyer. As soon as
the spirit leaves the body the windows are all opened, that
the soul may flit forth, and formerly the night watchmen used
to announce each death at a certain hour. Now three large
bells are tolled for adults and two small ones for children.
VOL. LXXI. 41

642 PEASANT LIFE IN THE HARZ. [Aug.,

The bells in the little village of Dankerode, where this custom
is still kept up, are unusually musical in tone. The greatest care
must be taken in dressing the corpse, which must be laid upon
a straw bed, and if this straw is fed to cattle they will surely
die. No clothing belonging to any one else must be put on,
and if possible the bridal garments should be worn. Very
often a new shirt is made and a small pocket added, in which
a bit of money is placed for the " dead person to use on the
Way." If a myrtle wreath is worn the bush will die, and it is
still customary to lay the playthings or favorite articles in the
coffin. The resemblance between the burial customs of all primi-
tive peoples is strikingly shown in this remnant of an earlier age.
No tears must be shed upon the corpse, and timid persons can
be cured of their fear by touching the big toe, or sick people
healed by throwing three crosses into the grave at midnight.

After the funeral ceremonies are over the long procession
of friends and relatives to the third degree pass into the
church, when each one deposits a pfennig, or one-fourth of a
cent, upon the altar.

The singing of these peasants at funerals is strikingly good ;
the mountaineers all seem to have excellent voices, and the
children are taught to sing from the cradle.

The Harz is so popular with the Germans that mountains
and valleys are dotted with health resorts, where thousands
flock to breathe in the spicy air and drink of the waters ; but
little towns like Altenbrack, Dankerode, Elend, Konigrode,
which do not lie on the railroads, are the only places for
studying odd customs and ancient houses.

In Dankerode can be found the best pictures of primitive
peasant life ; here nearly every one owns at least one cow and
a small patch of ground, and the proprietor, with the aid of
wife, cow, and daughters, tills^the soil. Horses there are none,
for cows serve the double purpose of draught animal in summer
and milch cow in winter. No servants are kept, and in harvest-
time each family helps the others out. Most of the houses are
thatched and the old Saxon style of building is still in vogue,
with gable end towards the street, no front door at all, and
the entrance from the court in the rear. Even the taverns are
often built that way, and the chance tourist has to step gin-
gerly through the court, past geese, chickens, cows, and goats,
till he finds his way into the living part of the house. Many
of the houses are only two rooms deep and stretch for forty
or fifty feet along the street. The gables are then at the sides,

1900.]

PEASANT LIFE IN THE HARZ.

643

THE QUAINT LITTLE PARISH CHURCH.

and the long expanse of green thatch, facing the street, is
broken by the tiniest of one-pane windows. In the centre is
the living part for the family ; on one side are accommodated
live stock, with gothic-roofed pig-pens, chicken-coops, and stalls,
and in the other end is stored hay and .grain. The thatched
roofs are very picturesque, and really beautiful when age covers
them with moss and lichens, and the ancient stone walls which
surround many of the cottages show a brilliant fringe of many-
colored flowers. The wealth of flowers in the mountains is
beyond belief ; over one thousand varieties are said to grow in
the Harz, and many clover fields are deeply blue with the
lovely corn-flower, of which the old kaiser was so fond. The
pale blue of the forget-me-nots and the yellow of the cowslips
and buttercups blend in a fringe along every valley, and the
gaudy poppies and marguerites spread over hill and dale in the
most magnificent symphony of colors.

Modern building processes are scorned by the Harz peas-
ant ; he builds his house as his ancestors have built for gene-
rations, and, as it will outlast many modern structures, he may
not be so far wrong.

New houses are put up in the same primitive fashion, and

644 PEASANT LIFE IN THE HARZ.

they are said to be warm and comfortable. Two are being
built in Dankerode now, and we will try to give an idea of
their construction. The cheaper and more prevalent style is
as follows : a stone foundation from eighteen to twenty-four
inches broad is laid, and on this, following the four walls
around, is spread a mixture of earth and straw, which, after
being beaten hard and smooth, is left for a week or so to dry.
Successive layers are added till the proper height is reached,
then the thatch roof is put on, and the house is ready for door
and window frames. Few or no nails are used, and these are
made of. wood instead of iron. The other house is on a stone
foundation also, and has a stout frame of oak rafters. These
extend all around the foundation every eighteen or twenty in-
ches apart, and the spaces between are filled in either with bricks
or stones cemented together, or the same kind of earth is
used, and is bound or held together by means of slender
withes of hazel. These braided withes, filled with earth, make
the most substantial houses, and there are several now stand-
ing which date from the latter part of the seventeenth century.
When not covered with thatch, tiles are used, and these are
put on in every conceivable shape and pattern. They, too,
make substantial and picturesque roofs ; but nothing compares
with the softly-tinted greens and grays of the thatch. Often
little windows with a single tiny pane are stuck here or there,
and when there happen to be two of them on a line they look
exactly like huge eyes with overhanging eyebrows. A law has
been passed making it illegal to build a new thatch roof, and
those now standing command much higher rates of insurance,

Dankerode boasts of a cottage which was built in 1594 by
a peasant of the name of S*uerzapf, and his descendants have
lived continuously in it ever since. It has a stone foundation,
oaken frame, filled in with earth and hazel withes, and a
thatched roof. The thatch is mended with new straw whenever
needed, but the same oaken beams, carefully carved and black
with age, and the same ponderous oaken door, are still intact.

Most of the Harz villages were destroyed during the terri-
ble Thirty Years' War, but the records of this old peasant
family show that troops were quartered here and many mem-
bers of his family served in the imperial army. Besides these
old houses, those churches bearing the name of the Virgin
Mary all date before the Reformation, and the little church
in Dankerode has a tower which has been standing since eleven
hundred. The body of the church was injured during the
Thirty Years' War and restored about two hundred years ago ;.

IQOO.]

PEASANT LIFE IN THE HARZ.

645

but nothing could, apparently, conquer the old tower, and
though its beauty is sadly marred by a coat of white, its
venerable age still invests it with interest for the traveller.

The life of these Harz peasants is frugal, industrious, and
comparatively moral, and though they make not the slightest
effort to beautify their surroundings, they often spend much
time in cultivating their inborn love for flowers and music.
Really fine violinists are hidden among the peasant hamlets,
and one peasant in Dankerode plays with great taste and feel-

" DANKERODE BOASTS OF A COTTAGE BUILT IN 1594."

ing on the piano. The Harz peasant shares with the Swiss his
love for his native land, and since 1850 no one has emigrated
from Dankerode to America. This holds true of all the moun-
tain villages, and the people are so contented that the most
glowing pictures of the substantial comforts of the new world
have no effect upon them. They love their homes, and ask
nothing better than to be allowed to live unmolested by the
hurrying outside world. They are a placid, contented-looking
people, and with their flowers, their music and beautiful
voices, which are the birthright of the mountaineer, they are
not to be pitied by us.

646 CATHOLICITY IN NORTHERN EUROPE. [Aug.,

RECENT PROGRESS OF CATHOLICITY IN
NORTHERN EUROPE.

BY CHARLES W. DOWD.

HE church never received any divine promise of
perpetual possession of this or that land ; no
single nation was ever, as it were, made over
to it for all eternity. The soul and essence of
Catholic doctrine is the free choice of the in-
dividual as to salvation or perdition. Alone of all religious
and philosophical systems, Catholic theology has through all
ages unswervingly taught the wonderful lesson of man's power
and obligation to co-operate with the Deity in the working out
of his final destiny.

Never was this truth better illustrated than at the close of
the nineteenth century. We see a nation like the French,
which used to glory in the name of the Eldest Daughter of
the Church, bend its neck under the tyranny of atheists ; we
have heard, not long ago, that , most candid and eloquent
daughter of Spain, Emilia Pardo Bazan, proclaim to the world
that the boasted Catholicity of her people was at least among
the ruling classes nowadays little else than a delusion ; that
scepticism had long been masquerading as orthodoxy in uni-
versities and legislative assemblies, and that this was one of the
causes of the country's present weakness.

There is no reason, however, for Catholics to come any-
where near despairing in view of these facts. In the first
place, the very aggressiveness of the enemies of the faith in
Western and Southern Europe has already frightened many
well-meaning but indolent Catholics out of their apathy, and
no one may prophesy what changes for the better the twen-
tieth century will see wrought. And, moreover, whoever is able
to watch the church in its thousand ramifications, the length
and breadth of the world, will never fail to perceive facts that
bring comfort to his anxious soul.

The days of wholesale conversions within brief periods are
gone ; instead we see individuals slowly but surely plodding
along the narrow path, often against the heaviest odds and
unde'r the most heart-rending sacrifices, but for all that reach-

1900.] CATHOLICITY IN NORTHERN EUROPE. 647

ing at last those gates through which alone one may enter into
the promised land.

Probably the most remarkable of such conversions within
the last decade are those recorded in the North of Europe,
Denmark, Norway, and Sweden.

If thirty years ago any countries might be spoken of as
strongholds of Protestantism, it was these little northern king-
doms. The Catholics in all three of them together were but a
handful ; honest and law-abiding people, doubtlessly, but with-
out social standing or literary eminence, ruled from abroad by
foreign bishops.

To-day a very different state of things prevails. Not only
have the Catholic congregations increased considerably in
numbers, but bishops reside in Copenhagen and Christiania,
and men and women of national reputation, sometimes even
more than that, have been admitted to the church and become
its dauntless champions. THE CATHOLIC WORLD a few years
ago contained an article or two on this subject ; but the work
is still progressing, and it is to be hoped that Catholics in
America will read with interest a brief account of this sur-
prising development.

As already stated in the articles alluded to above, great
credit perhaps the greatest for the onward march of the
church in Denmark is due to its energetic, truly apostolic
bishop, Johannes von Euch. The dignity, learning, piety, and
last, not least, diplomatic tact of this schoolmate and chum
of the late Windthorst have fixed an image of the Catholic
prelate in the minds of the Danes which could not possibly
be more favorable to the success of the sacred cause. The
conversion of several prominent members of the Danish nobil-
ity is mainly, perhaps exclusively, his work. But another im-
portant addition to the ranks of the church militant cannot to
the same extent be ascribed to Bishop Von Euch's direct in-
fluence. When, a couple of years ago, the brilliant young poet
and novelist ^Johannes Jorgensen, in language aflame with en-
thusiasm, proclaimed his admittance to the fold, it was easy
for his many admirers to perceive that the evolution of his
mind had followed lines very much akin to those of his be-
loved Huysmans.

The name of this French novelist may not by all of my
readers be read with equal sympathy. I am aware that in
certain quarters doubt still lingers as to the sincerity, or per-
haps I should say the healthiness, of his religious profession.

648 CATHOLICITY IN NORTHERN EUROPE. [Aug.,

At any rate, at the outset of his career as a Catholic writer,
there were eminent members of the church in Paris who looked
upon his books with suspicion, placing them morally and in-
tellectually on a level with Paul Verlaine's lyrical effusions.

Poor Verlaine had been wallowing too long in the mire of
sensuality to be able to extricate himself by one frantic effort.
Or rather, the trouble with him was precisely that his efforts
were frantic, spasmodic one might say hysterical and not
of the steady, persevering, patient kind which a sound moral
philosophy recommends. And so it came to pass that one day
poor Verlaine would lift his passion-beaten brow high into the
pure air and chant the praises of the Virgin, the next he would
sink deeper than ever in the murky waves of Parisian Bohemia.

Huysmans is a very different sort of a man, cast in a
harder mould. He may have emptied the cup of pleasure to
the dregs, but he could never for any considerable length of
time have lost his self-control.

A glance at the lives of the two writers gives sufficient
illumination as to this point. The greater part of Verlaine's
later days were spent in hospitals and taverns ; at best in
garrets, at worst in the convict's cell. Huysmans, a man of
about fifty, has worked almost half his life without interrup-
tion in the employ of the French government, and unless the
rumor be true, that he lately resigned to enter a Benedictine
monastery, he is still, as he was up to a short while ago, the
head of an important department office, respected by those
over and under him for his unwavering devotion to duty.

When such a man deliberately and unambiguously declares
that he has returned to the old faith a declaration by which,
moreover, he cuts away from his former literary friends and asso-
ciatesit betrays little psychological acumen to question his
candor. Quite another matter is it that not a few details in
his Catholic books may justly be objected to as needlessly
cynical or uncharitably polemical.

And even here the fact remains that what Huysmans says
of the present deplorable state of church music and church
art in France and not in France alone ! is but too true, and
should be taken to heart by all who are able to appreciate the
great importance of the questions in point.

To return to Johannes Jorgensen. At an age of little over
twenty he made his literary debut by publishing, in Copenhagen,
a small volume of poems. This was about twelve years ago ;
and Since then he has published regularly every year a volume

1900.] CATHOLICITY IN NORTHERN EUROPE. 649

or two of verse or prose, always slight in bulk but weighty in
quality. From the very first appearance of something from
his pen it was apparent to all true critics that a poet of rare
originality had arisen a writer who exhibited an odd mixture
of almost scientific exactness of observation with freshness of
sensation and depth of feeling.

Some one said of him that he contemplated the world with
a naturalist's eye, enjoyed its beauties with a child's simplicity,
and suffered from its wrongs with a woman's sensitiveness.
What is certain is, that on all sides his great gifts were gen-
erously admitted, those radical critics of George Brandes'
school, who rule things literary in the North, proclaiming him
the foremost of the many singers who have appeared since
Holger Drachmann inaugurated a new era in Danish lyrical
poetry. Jorgensen was appointed literary critic of a paper
edited by one of George Brandes' brothers, and for some years
did a good deal of critical work alongside of his poetical pro-
duction. In the middle of the nineties a series of essays called
" A New Poetry " began to appear in the leading Danish
monthly.

The authors here treated were Edgar Poe, Baudelaire, Huys-
mans, Lon Bloy, Verlaine, and others, the main contention of
the writer being that in these poets and novelists a new spirit
had gradually invaded literature, a spirit which, however per-
verted might be some of its utterances, nevertheless was in-
stinct with love of lofty ideals, and thus radically opposed to
the earth-bound realism that so long had been enthroned in the
world of letters.

It was easy to tell that of all these writers those who, like
Huysmans and Bloy, had found ultimate rest in Catholicism
were nearest to Jorgensen's heart.* Still more pronounced was
this love of, and hankering after, Catholic peace in a volume
called The Book of Travels, which Jorgensen soon after published.

This work recalls, through its somewhat rambling, poetry-
soaked prose, Heine's Reisebilder, but the spirit differs widely.
Prominently figures in its pages an artist, Francesco. It was a
public secret that this stood for Mogens Ballin, a young Dan-
ish painter of much talent, who shortly before the publication
of The Book of Travels had become a Catholic and entered the
Benedictine monastery of Beuron, where he still lives under the
name of Francesco. And it was no great surprise to Jorgen-
sen's friends when, not long after, it became known that he
too had been received into the church. It had not remained

650 CATHOLICITY IN NORTHERN EUROPE. [Aug.,

hidden from them that in him, as in Huysmans, a growing
loathing of modern commercialism and materialism had gone
hand-in-hand not only with a deep admiration for the artistic
and poetical beauties of the Catholic Church, but also with a
longing for the uncompromising attitude in matters of morality
which is peculiarly that of Catholicism. If Jorgensen had
contented himself henceforth with remaining silent or, at any
rate, with the production of purely poetical or religious works,
he would probably have been left in peace and allowed gradu-
ally to lapse into oblivion as far as concerns the majority of
the public, which is always guided in its judgment by the ad-
vice of the professional critics. Such, however, was not the
path which Jorgensen chose to tread.

Feeling a strong desire at once to explain to his former
atheistic fellow-writers why he had forsaken their standard, and
warn such of them as at all might heed a warning of what
that standard really stood for, he flung into the world a little
book, Life's Lie and Life's Truth, which in a short time ran
through several editions, being devoured even by those whose
opinions it most bitterly denounced. It was a very .open, very
honest challenge to George Brandes and his followers, abso-
lutely sincere, but let it be said right here not quite wise
nor altogether amiable. Whatever Jorgensen thought of the
pernicious doctrines of the apostles of free love and general
nihilism, he might have remembered that he himself had for
years shared, more or less implicitly, their opinions, and that
after all there was no little excuse for those who held and de-
fended them. For, were they not the legitimate outcome of
the decay of Lutheranism, the inevitable reaction against the
soulless dogmatism of the Danish state church ? And, more-
over, where should men like Brandes have acquired knowledge
of better, nobler doctrine ?

From the rostrums of the university in Copenhagen, as from
those in Germany, came nothing but either galvanized Protest-
ant theology, devoid of all logic and consistency, or downright
infidelity. Catholic truth was everywhere stifled, or, if at all
allowed to make itself heard, it was confined to obscure cor-
ners of the great cities, humble little chapels, or the private
dwellings of Catholic laymen places whither young university
students were least of all likely to repair. It must, then, in
justice be said that Jorgensen's fierce denunciation of his for-
mer allies and leaders possessed some qualities which made the
rage at least intelligible with which it was received.

1900.] CATHOLICITY IN NORTHERN EUROPE. 651

Since then the poet has been the pet butt of the radical
dailies and magazines in Denmark, although a very curious
exception should not be left unnoticed. The organ of the So-
cialists in Copenhagen, a daily of great size and large circula-
tion, has for* many years employed as its literary critic a young
man named C. E. Jensen. This remarkable writer was, while
still in his teens, expelled from a Latin school in Copenhagen
because of his avowed socialistic sympathies. Almost at once
he began to write for the socialistic press, with which he has
since remained connected.

Although a radical in politics and a free-thinker in religion,
this brilliant man possesses a love of all that is lofty, and an
unselfish devotion to ideals that may be called Utopian, but
certainly are not repulsive or vile, which singles him out most
favorably from among the mass of avowed and satisfied sen-
sualists, the pupils of Friedrich Metzsche and similar thinkers,
who at present have almost complete control of the press in
Germany and the Northern countries.

Jensen has never allowed himself to be frightened by Jor-
gensen's fervent Catholicity, but always renders full justice to
his great gifts. Of the more moderate critics those who, al-
though themselves not positive believers, shun the extreme
radicalism, the most prominent in Denmark is Dr. Valdemar
Vedel, a man of wide reading and solid culture. He too has
never ceased to acknowledge the exquisite melody of Jorgen-
sen's verse, the color and fervor of his prose, and the indubita-
ble candor of both. Among the professedly conservative
writers the scholar and poet Thor Lange, who, although a
Dane, lives in Moscow as professor of classical philology in
the university, remains faithful to the admiration for Jorgen-
sen's genius, which years ago he was one of the first to ex-
press.

Of the works from Jorgensen's Catholic period of life the
most important ones are a wonderful dirge over Verlaine, and a
prose tale, " The Day of Judgment," which deserves to be trans-
lated into English far more than some of those insipid French
and German tales which now and then succeed in finding a trans-
lator on account of .their being labelled Catholic. Of other
recent Danish converts of the educated classes far and away
the most interesting is M. C. Jensen (no relation of his name-
sake the Socialist), a former minister in the Lutheran state
church. This learned and zealous man, who enjoyed the
marked respect of his ecclesiastical superiors as well as of his

652 CATHOLICITY IN NORTHERN EUROPE. [Aug.,

colleagues and the laity, a few years ago resigned from his
charge and went over to Rome, thereby making himself abso-
lutely penniless and without prospects, as his married state
prevented him from becoming a priest. Fortunately, another
convert, Count Woltke-Huitfeldt (late Danish * minister to
France, whose son married Miss Bonaparte of Washington),
came to the brave man's rescue by offering him one of his
farms to hold as tenant for life ; and so the former clergyman
now tills the fields in the sweat of his brow, only now and
then interrupting his labors to lecture on religious questions.
Among other places, he has been heard in the radical Students'
Club in Copenhagen, an association which, whatever one may
think of the opinions of the greater number of its members,
certainly tries to show true liberality in the selection of lec-
turers. The fact that Mr. Jensen was listened to with respect,
and his lecture fairly and not unfriendly received even in th<
radical papers, bears out my contention as to the inadvisabilit;
of a general acceptance of Johannes Jorgensen's polemical
methods.

After mentioning that the versatile and clever but errati<
Swedish novelist August Strindberg was reported three yean
ago to have joined the Catholic Church, but that the repoi
was premature and nov seems little likely ever to be con-
firmed, I shall say still a few words about some distinguishe<
converts from Norway and Sweden. In the former countn
the classical scholar Halfdan Ketsir was lately received into th<
church. He, as well as M. C. Jensen, is a contributor to
beautiful work in m^niDry of St. Francis which Bishop Voi
Euch's secretary, Dr. Bernhard Hansen, last year edited in
Copenhagen. Of far greater fame is Laura Marholm Hansson,
a worn in of half Norwegian, half German birth, who about
year ago, with her husband Ola Hansson, embraced Catholi-
cism. Ola Hinsson is a Swede who for years has lived ii
Germany, where he has mide a name for himself as a writei
of short stories and critical essays. His wife, with perhaps th<
more original talent of the two, has written dramas and tales,
but h*r best productions are those studies of feminine psychol-
ogy which appeared in the most exclusive German magazines,
and from time to time were collected in volumes that attracted
attention throughout the world. Two of them have been
published here in America: one, Six Portraits of Women, some
years ago in BDston ; another, written, as it were, on the
threshold of the Catholic Church, last year in Chicago, by

1900.] CATHOLICITY IN NORTHERN EUROPE. 653

Herbert Stone. The Revue des Deux Mondes recently published
a long, highly appreciative review of Mrs. Marholm's literary
activity. She is a sceptic in regard to the so-called emancipa-
tion of women, maintaining, as she does, that all that emanci-
pation has accomplished is to tear woman out of her natural
soil and transplant her where at best she may only attain to a
hot-house growth. I confess I find some of Mrs. Marholm's
contentions exaggerated and needlessly pessimistic ; but there
can be but one opinion regarding her wonderful psychological
acumen, her wit and fearlessness. In more than one respect she
recalls another famous feminine convert the German Countess
Ida Hahn-Hahn, whose noble novels and other works are not,
I fear, as much read by Catholics outside of Germany as they
deserve. A curious, doubtless purely accidental, agreement
will be found between Mrs. Marholm-Hansson's views and those
recently expressed by Cardinal Gibbons in a much-talked-of
sermon. It might interest his Eminence, and would not hurt
his American' assailants, to learn that a very brilliant, very
competent European woman has spoken fully as severely as
he of the excesses of the feminine movement of the present
day.

In conclusion it may be permitted me to touch on a matter
that just now is agitating the minds of the choicest literary
circles in Northern Europe.

For the past four or five years a Swedish lady, Selma
Lagerlof, has been universally acknowledged as not only the
foremost feminine novelist of her country, but as one of the
most original fiction writers of the day. Americans have also
translated some of her books. The Miracles of Antichrist was
published last year by Little, Brown & Co. in Boston. Now,
this very novel was recently translated into German, and pub-
lished with the sanction of the authoress by the exclusive
Catholic firm of Franz Kirchheine in Mayence. This fact, in
conjunction with a long and searching review of this novel in
the organ of the German Jesuits, the Voices from Maria Lack,
has given color to a vague rumor that Miss Lagerlof con-
templated seeking admittance to the church.

I am unable to state anything authoritatively concerning this
question, but it certainly does look as if Catholicism was re-
vealing day by day a stronger attraction for the highly
cultured minds of Denmark and Scandinavia. If so, Catholics
of other countries have only reason to rejoice.

654 A LEGEND OF THE NORSE*GOD. [Aug.,

A LEGEND OF THE NORSE-GOD.

BY GEORGINA PELL CURTIS.

HERE is an old, old legend that the god Odin
once descended to earth, and, living for a year
in fisherman's guise, wedded a young fisher-
maid. The story of their only child, who was
named Frida, of her life and work among the
Norsemen, and of her conversion to Christianity, was handed
down among her people for many generations. The blending
of the Pagan and Christian makes a most interesting story,
and was long told by the simple peasant folk of. Scandinavia,
even after paganism had disappeared from their land.

They attributed to Frida all the heroic qualities of a god-
dess, and believed that Odin had appointed her to be the
saviour of her people. It is difficult to separate romance from
fact; but what seems clear is that a very good and heroic
woman lived and worked among the Norsemen, and becoming
a Christian, wrought many good deeds in their land. That
she appears, up to the time of her conversion, to have believed
in her own descent from Odin, the following story will show.

It was evening. The long northern twilight, just fading out
of sight, still rested faintly on the steep gray rocks and open
sea which surround the coast of Scandinavia. It was sum-
mer, and the land which presents itself to our view, although
bare of vegetation in comparison to a more southern soil, was
yet in reality under most careful cultivation. A few peat huts
stood near the shore, while further inland the signs of habita-
tion increased.

It was a strong and hardy race which for centuries had in-
habited the land, extending their fame as bold and fearless
sea-kings to the more civilized countries of the south. For the
past twenty years it would seem as if Odin had granted his
people unqualified prosperity. They had been successful in all
their battles on the sea, as well as in the increase of their
nation and cultivation of their land. But in one respect the
god had especially blessed his people, although it was nearly
half a century later before the fact became generally known to
them.

1900.] A LEGEND OF THE NORSE-GOD. 655

Some twenty years before the opening of our story the men
of Scandinavia were returning from a disastrous battle. Of the
fine fleet that had left the harbor only four vessels were left.
The largest of these ships had at her prow the figure of a
gigantic eagle, and was named Thiassi, after the god who fre-
quently appeared in that form.

The captain was standing on this ship one fine afternoon
when he thought he descried far off a black body against the
horizon. After examining it a few moments attentively, he
called one of his sailors, and together they tried to make out
what it was. At first the object appeared to be high in the
heavens; but gradually, as the ship drew nearer, it seemed to
rest on the water. The captain turned to the young sailor,
and addressing him in the Scandinavian dialect, said, " Can
you make out what it is, and whence it comes, Eric ? "

"Yes, my father," said the young man, "it seems to be a
boat, though never in any race or country have I seen such a
craft. Look ! It strikes me that in shape it is just like this
noble eagle which is carved at our prow ; the sign to Odin
that his children, though once defeated, have the strength of
the eagle, and will yet conquer all things."

" Surely, my son, you speak bravely," said the old man, his
eye kindling ; " the eagle of the Norseman must conquer, for
she flies high and receives Odin's secret messages. But look !
even now the boat draws near to us."

And in truth the strange craft had come very near. After
a moment's thought the captain ordered their only remaining
boat to be lowered, and stepping into it, was followed by four
sailors, who, seizing the oars, pulled toward the stranger. A
few swift strokes of the oars and they were within a short dis-
tance of the boat, which they now perceived contained a young
and noble-looking man, whose tall, well-knit frame, and frank,
fearless eye excited the admiration of them all. He seemed
to wait for them to speak ; so the captain, Sven Frode, rose
up in his boat and, first extending and then joining his hands
toward the sky, called out in a clear voice :

"Odin's greeting to thee, my son. Speak! whence art thou,
and why comest thou so boldly and yet alone to the land of
the Norse-god?"

To the surprise of all, the young man answered at once in
the Scandinavian dialect : " Peace to thee, noble sir. Thou
seest in me one who has wandered long and far, but who
claims as his own the country that now lies before him. Never

656 A LEGEND OF THE NORSE-GOD. [Aug.,

before have my feet touched the Scandinavian shore; but I
know it well, for it is my la^nd the land of my forefathers.
Often in my dreams have I pictured it, and now this dream
is near its realization. Odin be thanked for having brought
me thus far ! "

Sven Frode and the sailors had listened with breathless at-
tention, and now the elder man exclaimed : " Welcome, my
son, thrice welcome to the land of the Norse-god, and to us,
thy brethren. Come, take sail with us, and we will bring thy
boat in our wake, and thus we will all set foot on Odin's land."

The young man sprang lightly into the other boat, and they
pulled away to the ship. There Nels Valan, as we must now
call him, told his story in full. His father had been taken
captive many years ago while engaged in a fishing expedition
off the coast of Scandinavia. After being captive for years in
Gaul he was allowed a measure of freedom on condition that
he remained in that country. He married a young Scandina-
vian maiden who had been taken prisoner like himself. They
lived long enough to instruct their son and only child in all
the traditions of his race. It became the dream of the young
man to escape to the North, which eventually he accomplished.
Such was his story, as told by himself, and the simple sailors
and peasant folk doubted not it was true. He was made cor-
dially welcome by all, and two months after his arrival in
Scandinavia he wedded Gunla, the daughter of old Sven
Frode.

For one short year they lived happily, till one fine sum-
mer morning, as they were down on the shore, Nels all at
once grew silent and thoughtful, and began gazing fixedly at
the sky. At last he turned to his wife, and said slowly and
gently :

" Gunla, sweet one, the time is now come the boat is ready
and the gods are calling for their chief. I am Odin, and I
have visited my people, but it is time for me to return to my
seat in Asgard.

" To-night there shall come to you the legacy of the Norse-
god to his people. Thou shalt call her Frida, which is Peaces
for she will bring to the Norsemen many blessings."

Saying this he stepped lightly into a boat which stood by the
shore, and as it moved off it gradually lifted from the water,
and appeared as an eagle against the sky. The form of the
god grew gigantic and shadowy, in proportion as the eagle
grew larger and more life-like. Gunla remained in a sort of

1900.] A LEGEND OF THE NORSE-GOD. 657

trance until the objects disappeared from view, and in this
state she was found by old Sven and her brothers.

She revived sufficiently to tell them all that had occurred ;
but her spirit seemed no longer of the earth, and that night,
which ushered the young Frida into the world, closed also her
mother's life.

The evening following the opening of our story had closed
over the land, but the northern light was still shining in the
sky, making every object distinctly visible. The door of one
of the huts, which stood high up on a solitary rock, opened
and a young man strode forth. He paused for a moment
gazing out toward the sea, then, leaping from rock to rock,
was soon on the shore moving rapidly like one accustomed to
constant exercise.

After proceeding a quarter of a mile he stopped suddenly
and listened. .In the distance he heard a low, clear whistle,
which being repeated twice, he, answered in the same way, and
in a few moments the figure of a man, apparently between
thirty and forty, started from the rocks near by and joined him.

They greeted each other eagerly, speaking in the Scandina-
vian dialect, yet it was observable at once that the young man
first introduced spoke with a slightly foreign accent. After a
few words of hurried conversation the elder said earnestly :
" Whatever thou doest, Thormod, I pray thee be not rash.
Remember, the prophetess has declared that Frida must never
wed."

" We will see," said the younger man impatiently. " Why
give so much heed to the mandates of an old woman who, for
aught we know, may be in league with evil, instead of being a
prophetess of Odin."

The elder man looked hastily over his shoulder and shivered.

" 1 pray thee, good Thormod, speak not so rashly. Foreigner
though thou art, thou hast grown up among us, loved and
liked by us all. But there is not one in Scandinavia, save my-
self, who would not give thee up to the vengeance of the gods
could they hear that speech."

" Well, no one did hear me but thee, good Paulus," answered
the other lightly, " and I know thou wilt not betray me ; but,
prithee,* I must away, for yonder Frida awaits me, Fare thee
well!"

They parted, and Thormod continued his walk for another
quarter of a mile ; then his course led up some steep rocks,
VOL. LXXI, 42

658 A LEGEND OF THE NORSE-GU^ [Aug.,

involving hard climbing. When he finally arrived a, t ^ e tO p he
paused to recover breath ere proceeding. No sound b ro ke the
stillness save the monotonous washing of the wave, on the
shore. The young man remained motionless, his tall figure
drawn up to its full height, while his eye rested half dr^ am jiy
now on the sea below, and again on the horizon wher^ t he
northern light was still playing. A few moments mort> o f
silence, and then a hand was laid on his arm, and a low, m us i_
cal voice uttered his name :

"Thormod, thou hast come!"

The young man turned quickly to where Frida stood, the, n
he moved back, surveying her with a glance that seemed to
take in every charm of her face and figure. And in truth the
appearance of the young Frida might well excite admiration,
as she stood there in the faint light, the dark rocks forming a
background which served to throw her figure into strong relief.

The Scandinavian maidens are famed for their beauty, but
Frida was exceptionally beautiful. Of a tall and noble figure,
whose every motion showed strength and grace, she yet com-
bined a certain feminine tenderness and softness, inexpressibly
winning. Her eyes were 'gray, deep set and long lashed, and
around her face floated the beautiful long, fair hair which forms
the especial glory and pride of the women of her race. The
whole face bespoke candor, trustworthiness, and serenity, while
to the close observer there was the capability of heroic self-
sacrifice in the steadfast eyes and sweet mouth.

But now they are talking, and it is he who is the first t
speak. Drawing her to a seat on the rocks, he throws himsel
at her feet, and, addressing her gently, says :

"Dost thou know, Frida, the fleet sails to-morrow?"

She gave a little cry. " Ah no ! I thought it was not unti
next week, when the tides will be most favorable."

"So it was; but Samund, as captain of the fleet, has decide< [
that we must not wait, or we will not be out at sea in time
for the best fishing."

She remained silent a moment ; then she said : " So many
days and nights before you are back! But Odin's daughter
must not know fear, so I will keep a brave heart for thee, my
Thormod, till thy return."

" It is about this I want to speak ere I go, Frida. Thou
knowest we all regard thee as a being half 'divine. Many there
are who think I am bold to aspire to thee ; and lately I have
heard many rumors that Bryna-brin, our prophetess, frowns on

1 900.] A LEGEND OF THE NORSE-GOD. 659

our union. But thou wilt be true to me, Frida. Nothing can
ever part us save for one to be false to the other."

They had both risen as he spoke, and now stood facing
each other. In the gathering dusk her beautiful face looked more
pure and steadfast than usual, as she answered in a low voice :

" I will never be aught but true to thee, Thormod. Odin's
command might sever his daughter outwardly from her lover,
but in spirit I must always belong to thee."

A few more words passed between them, and then, having
promised to meet the following day ere he sailed, they parted,
the young man springing lightly down the rocks in the direc-
tion of the shore. Frida watched him until he was lost to
sight, and then walking about a hundred feet away from the
cliffs, reached the home where the old grandfather with whom
she lived had for the past two hours been sunk in slumber.

The following morning the fleet sailed out of the harbor,
bound on a fishing cruise. For a few days Frida stayed at
home in comparative quiet ; then she formed a determination
to go and visit Bryna-brin, the prophetess.

Accordingly, one morning she started out, and, avoiding the
coast, followed a path which led her for two miles in view of
some distant mountains, whose tops, with their clear summits,
looked all rosy in the morning light.

The abode of Bryna-brin, which the young girl was now
approaching, was situated at the base of the highest range of
hills, and was, in fact, a natural cave that some former con-
vulsion of nature had made in the rocks. Frida found her way
quickly to the entrance, the opening being three times as tall
as herself, but so narrow that only one person at a time could
pass through. She entered without hesitation and glanced
around her. The interior presented a strange sight. No furni-
ture of even the rudest kind could be seen ; but in one corner
a large rug, made of the feathers of wild fowl, lay on the
ground, while from the rocks which formed the walls hung in-
numerable strange and rare objects implements of war, many
curious coins, pieces of metal, and in particular a silver hunt-
ing horn of peculiar shape and make. The further end of the
cave was wrapped in darkness, and a slight smoke was seen
ascending to the roof.

Frida sat* down on the ground and waited patiently for the
prophetess to appear; but as moments went by without her
coming, she finally reached for the silver hunting horn and

660 A LEGEND OF THE NORSE-GOD. [Aug.,

blew a low blast. This summons produced the desired result,
for presently a shadow darkened the entrance to the cave,
and springing to her feet the young girl bowed low, even to the
ground, murmuring meanwhile : " Frida greets thee, good mother."

" The peace of Odin, and of Bryna-brin his prophetess, be
with thee, my child," was the answer. " Speak ! hast thou come
to question the gods regarding thy future fate?"

As the maiden answered she raised her eyes to the face of
the renowned prophetess. Her gaze met the glance of an eye
at once keen and penetrating. The countenance was majestic
and commanding, and so was the figure, which appeared
almost to fill the cave.

She seemed in age to be little over fifty ; yet, nevertheless,
she had inhabited the land years before Frida's grandfather
was born, and no man remembered her as older or younger
than she now appeared. Frida knew her too well to be timid ;
so she stated her errand, which was to implore the gods to
give their consent to her union with her lover.

" The gods have not been propitious lately, my child," said the
prophetess ; " but come with me, and I will commune with them."

She preceded Frida to the back of the cave, and as the
passage grew darker, paused a moment and said to Frida :
"Give me thy hand."

The maiden obeyed, and they proceeded through the dark-
ness, passing beyond another opening into an inner cave, then
up some steps, and so on and on through the gloom until sud-
denly the prophetess came to a stand-still. Frida was breath-
less with awe and the subtle mystery which surrounded her ;
but she remained perfectly motionless until Bryna-brin lifted
her from the ground and placed her in what was, as nearly
as she could make out in the darkness, a recess hewn in the
rocky wall of the cave. The silence became oppressive, but
it was broken at last by the deep voice of the prophetess,
which said : " The gods will hear what thou hast to say."

Frida breathed a sigh of relief. " I pray thee, good mother,"
she answered, " question the gods, and in particular my Father
Odin. Tell them Frida would fain wed with one she holds
most dear."

A long silence followed, and at last Bryna-brin again spoke \
but this time her voice was stern :

"The prophetess of Odin has conversed with the gods, and
they have spoken : ' Frida, the daughter of Odin, must never
wed.' For thy sake, my child, I even ventured to implore the

1900.] A LEGEND OF THE NORSE-GOD. 661

gods, and they have said thou canst take thy choice. Thou
knowest that thou wert born to be the peace of thy people.
For twenty years we have had unqualified prosperity. Our
fisheries are abundant, our soil yields more to cultivation, we have
conquered our enemies and are at peace amongst ourselves.
All this the gods promise shall continue for centuries if thou
remain in all things obedient to them. If thou wed thou wilt
enjoy happiness thyself, but thy people will suffer. Ruin and
devastation will lay waste our country, and our enemies shall
triumph. Consider well, my daughter, and then decide."

A cry of passionate grief, and a mighty sob pierced the
darkness: "I cannot, I will not! Why should the gods de-
mand the sacrifice of me?"

" Because thou wert born to fulfil a destiny, and for that
cause came thy father to earth and wedded thy mother."

44 Frida loves her people, but she cannot break her troth
and be untrue. She has sworn to be faithful to her lover, and
faithful she will ever be."

" Didst thou not say to him on the rocks, the night before
thy parting, that even if Odin's command severed thee, thy
heart would still be his ? Thou didst recognize in those words
a higher power than thy lover's love. Thy heart may still be
given to him, but thy life and thy being are the gods'."

Frida again spoke, but this time her voice was calm :

" Thou knowest, Bryna-brin, that I have no fear. I have
sought thee out, and I speak to thee and listen to thee,
although all around me is black darkness worse than night.
But now I demand one thing more. With Odin himself I will
speak ; and not in darkness, but with light surrounding us.
Let the gods hear, for Frida hath spoken ! "

There was a dull roar, followed by a violent shaking of the
whole interior of the cave. Frida felt herself thrown violently
from her seat, and the next moment a brilliant, flashing light
surrounded her. She remained prostrate on the ground for
some seconds ; but gradually a mysterious power seemed to
compel her to raise her head. Where she was she did not
know, for she saw neither walls nor roof, beginning or end of
anything. The light was not like the light of day, but a pure,
cold, glittering atmosphere. She raised her head higher, and
immediately prostrated herself to the earth, for she was in the
presence of the god. She dared not move or speak until a
voice, so deep and yet so low that it penetrated her whole be-
ing, sounded in her ear, saying :

662 A LEGEND OF THE NORSE-GOD. [Aug.,

" Odin has granted thy request to see him, and now awaits
thy decision. Will Frida be true to her destiny, or will she
marry and bring the vengeance of the gods on her people?"

" Frida greets her most gracious father. She owns herself
subject to him. Bat she ventures to ask why the welfare of
her people cannot be assured in some other way ? "

" The course of destiny cannot be changed, nor is Frida a
god to penetrate into higher secrets. Odin is pleased at his
child's strength of will, but he would remind her that * wisdom
can be gained only by suffering and sacrifice,' and that it is
greater to obey than to rule."

The silence again became profound. It seemed to the
kneeling maiden as if the air were haunted, owing to the strug-
gle going on in her own heart. The god-like nature within
her pleaded for renunciation, bidding her choose the life of
utter self sacrifice ; but mingling with these thoughts . were
others : visions of the intensity of her own and her betrothed's
love, and the happiness almost within her grasp. These thoughts
rent her heart with a pang of bitter grief. How long the battle
lasted she knew not, yet through it all she felt what the end
must be; and at last, like a tired child, she raised her head
and spoke :

" My father, Frida has been weak because she is human,
but now her spirit and her will are the gods'. She renounces
for ever her lover, although she will love him still ; but hence-
forth her life will be devoted to her people."

"The eternal blessing of Odin be with thee, my child!"

The light slowly faded, and again all was darkness and
silence. Frida felt herself lifted and borne swiftly through
space, until she again found herself at the mouth of the cave.
The light revealed the prophetess, who, bending her dark face
and resting her hand on the maiden's head, murmured :

" Go, my daughter, in peace ! "

So saying, she vanished from sight and Frida retraced her
way homeward. But as she passed down the hill-side and across
the fields the great, solemn mountains overshadowed her, and
the whole earth, with the wind and the sun and the heavens,
seemed to whisper around her their blessing of peace.

Frida lived for many years after, ministering to her people
until her name became a byword for peace and succor. Before
her death Christianity found its way to Scandinavia, and Frida
was one of the first to embrace it, and to assist the saintly and

1900.] PEACE. 663

heroic missioners in their work. The sacrifice of her lover was
never put to the test, for his fleet was wrecked and he himself
was supposed to be lost. Years after a company of men, under
an older priest, arrived in Scandinavia, and in this priest, Father
Thormod, Frida found her lost lover. They met with the calm
that succeeds a great storm, with the old love purified and con-
secrated.

Thormod told Frida .how he had been wrecked and saved,
and carried to far-off Italy, where he had become a Christian
and a priest, feeling he owed his life to God, after having so
nearly lost it. As soon as he could he made his way North to
find her, and teach her the great truths he had become pos-
sessed of.

Centuries rolled over Scandinavia, but whether in summer
down on the shore, or in winter during the long evenings when
they sat around the fire, the brave Norsemen loved to recount
the story of Frida's life ; and these legends, half pagan and
romantic, half Christian and true, have come down to us as a
beautiful narrative of one whose life was true to her name and
Mission of Peace.

BY HAMILTON CRAIGIE.

OT in the soft glow of the westering sun,

Or in cooi spaces where the murmurous breeze
Plays like a falling water, or where trees
Straight, sable-pointed, strike in the swift run

Of driving clouds ! Nor ever is it won

Haply in rich meadows, or in dim ease

Of dull narcotics, draining to life's lees.

Not Peace ! Not Peace ! Our little life is done.

Not of our nature born, nor of this earth ;

Not built of rose-strewn isles in the wide sea !

Alas ! alas ! the cry rings wearily

From birth to death, and back from death to birth.

In that great good alone which men despise,

There the full peace, too clear for seeing eyes !

664 THE HOBOKEN CATASTROPHE, [Aug.,

THE HOBOKEN CATASTROPHE.

BY MRS. ALEXANDER SULLIVAN.

ATE in the afternoon of June 30, standing on
the west piazza, of the Edgemere Hotel, Long
Island, I was startled by a sudden spectacle in
the sky.

It was as if a huge building of ebony,
square and sky-reaching, had been lifted into mid air. Its
rectilinear walls appeared solid, its roof flat. Instantaneously a
spiral tower of murky rose tapered from the ebon mass and
quivered above its outlines. The vision changed line and hue
with every glance. Wind and sun were playing upon it, the one
lending the tremor of vast wings, the other imparting myriad
successions of brilliant hues, an instant snow-white on the culm
of the tower, an instant ruby at its base. All the time the
ebon mass was firm and intact, remaining so many minutes, un-
til a livelier gust swept a brown bar detachedly from the ebon
and sent it sailing softly upward for a new base to the now
vermilion tower whose apex caught a nimbus from the declin-
ing sun. Ruskin's "Queen of the Air" flew back from long
memory. " As upon the plumes of the bird are put the colors
of the air"; on these vaporous shapes the "gold of the cloud
that cannot be gathered by covetousness " ; the " rubies of the
clouds, the vermilion of the cloud bar and the flame of the
.cloud crest, the snow of the cloud and its shadow, and the
melted blue of the deep wells of the sky."

With deeper than emotions of taste came the telephonic
news that the ebon mass was the mirage of vast dockage com-
bustion ; that the quivering tower of flame leaped from con-
verging fires of tall masts of transatlantic shipping safely
sheltered, as had been believed, in the majesty and beauty of
New York harbor.

The Hoboken catastrophe is the most appalling in life loss
of modern merchant marine, loss appalling from its finality to
thousands of families in various parts of the globe, for there
is scarcely a port known to commerce whence the North Ger-
man Lloyd does not give and take cargo and passengers and
gain recruits for its crews. Appalling also for the future not

1900.]

THE HOBOKEN CATASTROPHE.

only of transatlantic ship-
ping but of all maritime
organization. For the
Hoboken catastrophe is
not only complete as to
its losses but prophecy
of catastrophes not only
at American shores,
whether inland or tide-
water, but wherever ships
are bound to piers simi-
larly constructed and un-
der fixed conditions of
water and land control,
or lack of it, is illustrated
by the Hoboken catas-
trophe.

Extraordinary p r o-
gress has marked naval
architecture in a quarter
century. The water-tight
compartment assures
safety against sea attacks
that formerly would have
been tragedies. The fire-
proof compartment must
be devised next, and it
must be essential alike
to ship and to wharf.

The bereaved com-
pany will spare neither
care nor capital replacing
the vanished ships.

What of the charred
and charnel docks ?

Every port munici-
pality has an inherent
right to wall its water
front against peril to its
homes. Hospitality to
the keels that ply the
seas or rivers does not
imply indifference to

666 THE Ho BO KEN CATASTROPHE. [Aug.,

humanity in their hulls or along shore. A perverse breeze that
afternoon could have reduced to ashes a considerable portion
of the cities in fancied security on the harbor and streams of
New York and New Jersey. Burning shipping and wharfage
will project flame further and feed fire longer than other com-
bustibles. It is impossible to know when the fire is out in the
cavern of a dock or when the last spark has blackened in a
dislocated hulk adrift.

Experience in the Hoboken and numerous other waterside
disasters teaches that piers suited to their business should be
in fire-proof compartments, even as ships should be composed
in both fire-proof and water-tight compartments.

Pier floors should be of cement, the walls and partitions
tile and metal, the roofs metallic. They should be constructed
so that each compartment can be separated from the others by
the lowering of metallic partitions, like the separate bulkheads
now indispensable in great steamers. Thus a fire in one com-
partment could be confined to that spot, and the whole
water supply and fire-fighting discipline be concentrated
there.

The necessity of co-ordinating federal and municipal author-
ity in American harbors was made manifest by the Hoboken
catastrophe. The city fire department was competent to put
out the ship fires while the ships were tied up. It was impo-
tent to direct a hose or give an order the moment their cables
were cut. The federal authority is paramount on the water,
but it has no fire-fighting force either to extinguish a blaze on
a ship or to balk its fatal contact with other shipping afloat or
tied up at wharves to be in turn ignited.

State, federal, and municipal conference with a view to
legislation installing authority over fire in ports is one of the
practical lessons taught by the Hoboken catastrophe.

The chief features of such authority when established are
obvious. For the privilege of safeguarding their interests, hu-
man and cargo, from fire, transportation companies should pay
for pipe-laying to connect their piers with city water-pipes and
for the requisite number of fire-plugs. This should be the rule
for railroad companies using piers as well as for vessel com-
panies.

Vessel companies should be required to keep tugs propor-
tionate in number to their traffic, with full crews and full head
of steam ready at a moment's notice to tow craft out from the
piers* to safety in river or harbor, with apparatus always on

IQOO.]

THE Ho BO KEN CATASTROPHE.

667

THE MAIN AND THE BREMEN GROUNDED AT WEEHAMKEN.

board to prevent contagion of fire from drifting or derange-
ment of steering machinery.

Transportation companies should be required to contract
with the port municipality for a disciplined fire-fighting force.
They should be assessed for a contingent of firemen, adjustable
according to the size of their establishments. The municipal
fire department should assign men from its regular force, who
should be transferred from time to time, so that the entire
department would grow familiar with the piers and no man
would degenerate into a dock-idler for lack of actual drill in
fire fighting. Pier and ship fire-fighting plants ought to be
maintained in continuous efficiency, laxity being the certain
forerunner of fatal detection.

Improvements in municipal fire protection during the past
year consist chiefly in improved means of distributing and con-
centrating a copious water supply. Novel devices for pressure-
tests are among the important inventions of this arm of public
safety. A new instrument for increased pressure to be directed
downwards will be important in the equipment of a permanent
fire-fighting pier brigade.

The new building code of New York City contains valuable
specifications on the subject of fire-proofing, which can be ap-

668 THE HOBOKEN CATASTROPHE. [Aug.,

plied to pier construction. The British fire prevention com-
mittee has also contributed substantial suggestions to improved
methods of lessening danger from fire. At Paris the working
plants have been rendered more efficient by the introduc-
tion of auto-hose carts. Chicago has long had harbor fire-
boats.

The Hoboken catastrophe revealed the worthlessness of life-
boats to save after fire breaks out in a ship,. Lowering of the
boats in the presence of real or even suspected fire is neces-
sarily accompanied with special fear. But every one who has
travelled much knows that on nearly all lines there is no
sincere devotion to the life-boats in hours of tranquillity. In
many sea disasters, where the life-boats could have been used
with perfect safety, they were either too few in number or
could not be detached, or were unsound, or the crew were in-
capable or unwilling to man them.

In a harbor life-saving code, to be agreed to by federal and
state authorities, no steamer ought to be allowed to leave
quarantine for her pier without test to show her life-boats in
perfect working order. The lifeboats should be examined, like
the passengers. Nor should any steamer be permitted to quit
her pier for sea without official examination of her life-boats
as to number, soundness, and the requisite number and specific
assignment of crews to use all, if Required. The hours for
making these life-boat tests should be fixed by law and be
public. The life-boat tests ought to apply to sail vessels as
well as to steamers, and should be modified for adaptation to
inland waters.

That all vessels should be constructed so far as possible of
fire proof material has been emphasized by the observations of
our navy officers in recent conflicts ; and the Hoboken catas-
trophe reiterates that necessity for the merchant marine.

An all but universal city ordinance requires exterior fire-
escapes on high buildings. There should be a life saving port-
hole if not in every cabin of marine buildings, by whatever
name classified, at least in every hall on which vessel cabins
open, for ordinary lighting and ventilation the present port-
hole answers well. The present port-hole frame should be sur-
rounded with a larger one of solid metal, to be waterproof
and fitted as perfectly into the vessel structure. The larger
one, containing the smaller, should be openable for emergency.
More than half the loss of life in the Hoboken catastrophe
might have been averted by the opening of life-saving port-

1900.]

THE Ho BO KEN CATASTROPHE.

669

holes. There would have been no danger from rushing in of
water, for the harbor was calm. Even if water entered through
a life-saving port-hole in time of fire, it would only help put
out the flames. There would be no danger that such port-
holes would be opened unnecessarily. Axes hang in railroad
trains to break open windows and doors to save life in emer-
gency. Axes are seen along hotel walls, for like necessity.
There is no known instance of their improper use.

To open and close the life-saving port-holes should be part
of the regular life-saving drill on all vessels.*

While these observations apply specifically to American

PEERING INTO THE HOLD OF THE SAALE AFTER THE FIRE.

ports, their practical value in all ports is beyond dispute. It
is true that fire is more frequent in the United States than in
older countries. Our characteristic haste involves inevitable
recklessness. Fertile as our inventors have been, their ingenu-
ity has not kept pace with our needs. Carriage of cotton on
passenger ships, storage of this and other quick inflammables

* Since the foregoing was written the North German Lloyd Company has announced its
intention to rebuild its docks on designs including many of these suggestions. This humane
example will have to be generally followed by all lines expecting public confidence and
.similarly doing iheLr .duly to humanity.

670 THE HOBO KEN CATASTROPHE. [Aug.,

where human life in mass is constantly exposed, points to the
failure of invention to provide a cheap and sure fire proof
material to be used in packing such commodities. Nor is this
urgent need peculiar exclusively to our business. Progress in
naval architecture proceeds at an astounding pace. Nations
have grown suddenly face to face with means of communica-
tion. Railway and steamship are now competitors in every
quarter of the globe. Dread of fire is great enough on land.
It is incomparably greater on shipboard*

How great the need of a fire-proof material for shipping
and dockage is shown in the figures of the tonnage for the
past year, in which Great Britain leads the world with a total
of 1,763,914 tons. The United States come second with 283,964
tons. Other countries follow in this order : Holland, Italy,
Denmark, Norway, France, Belgium, Sweden, Austria- Hungary,
Canada, Spain, Japan, China. The aggregate of the year was
2,447,538 tons, an increase of 200,000 tons over that of the
previous year.

Events occurring in the far East will compel nations to in-
crease their navies largely, while the closer relations of Asia
and Africa with Europe and America will induce a correspond-
ingly large addition to the merchant marine. We are only
entering upon an era in which the subsoil as well as the soil
of Asia and Africa will furnish enormous cargoes of minerals
to the arts of the Western world, while the certain if slow as-
similation of the awakening East to Western civilization invites
European and American manufacturers to prepare for a trade
whose boundaries imagination itself cannot forecast. Japan
will take the place of Great Britain largely in the Asiatic
barter. American mills and factories will feel new pulse as
the Siberian railway draws the United States and Russia into
more cordial neighborhood. M. Leroy-Beaulieu has recently
shown that already the Russians constitute a vast majority of
the population of northern Asia. Russia's peaceful expansion
in that part of the old world he likens to the development
by Western Europe in the new world. While the Russians
are prolific in industry and resourceful in availing of the mani-
fold wealth of nature, they are ready to buy where they can
buy cheapest, to sell where they can sell dearest ; and pro-
pinquity as well as traditional friendship makes the United
States their preferred market.

Our Pacific coast ship-building will express in another
decade the material growth of an intercourse that will guar-

1 9 oo.]

THE Ho BO KEN CATASTROPHE.

671

antee to the United States a moral as well as material profit
in Asia which ought to inspire invention with promise of rich
reward ; and in no domain of energy so notably as in reducing
risk from fire in transportation.

The loss of human life, aggregating hundreds, in the Ho-
boken catastrophe is not, never on earth will be known. A
Catholic priest, Rev. John Brosnan, was fortunately able to aid
a number of the victims.

A new human world, a world on the sea and on the docks
of seas, rivers, and lakes, is one of the outcomes of the ex-
panded world of commercial activity. The men who compose
this new human world are separated almost completely for
long intervals from the influences of home, church, and social
surroundings. For them there ought to be in every great port
a haven of the soul and mind as for their ships an anchorage.
This novel phase of religious and social duty remains for will-
ing workers to undertake.

672 Sr. JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE. [Aug.,

ST. JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE AND THE
FOUNDING OF THE CHRISTIAN BROTHERS.

BY C. M. GRAHAM.

E LA SALLE, one of the most remarkable men
that Europe has ever seen," * is, nevertheless,
very little known to the American public, and,
particularly, to the vast majority of the mem-
bers of the teaching profession. The great and
permanent services which he rendered to the educational world
are almost wholly unknown. And we venture to affirm that
there never was an educational reformer whose truly brilliant
achievements are more deserving of our honest admiration and
serious study. Many of the educational principles attributed
to Pestalozzi, Froebel, and others are directly traceable to the
genius of De la Salle, but his name is not honored in our
modern history of pedagogy, or if perchance mentioned, it is
merely to belittle him and to cast a slur on his disinterested
motives. Withal, the life of De la Salle will bear the closest
scrutiny. It .matters not how we approach this great genius
among educational reformers, he will stand out the peer of any
of them. His reforms are in perfect consonance with the
most progressive spirit of our century.

Intellectually considered, he was great, for contemporary
historians inform us that he was regarded as an tteve d'tlite,
who crowned his brilliant university career by taking his de-
gree of doctor of divinity. Abel Gaveau, speaking of the
mental acumen attained by De la Salle at the University of
Rheims, remarks: "His purity of body gave untold brilliancy
to his mind, enabling him to seize upon and appreciate the
nicest distinctions in controverted questions, the choicest
thoughts in literature, and the pivotal points in historical
studies." Morally he was unquestionably beyond reproach, for
Canon Blain says : " Grace seemed to have destined him from
the cfadle as one of its master-pieces." The church has con-
firmed this dictum, after a most exhaustive and critical ex-
amination of his life, by placing upon his pure brow the aureola
of a saint, on Ascension Thursday, May 24. As an educator,

* Jacques Droz, French Academician, Journal des Connaisances Utiles, 1832

i goo.] ST. JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE. 673

this paper purposes to accentuate some of his most remarkable
innovations and boldest reforms in the then existing methods
of popular education, and which have since been sanctioned by
the civilized world. Every intelligent reader will, doubtless,
be interested in the career of "a man of note, a philanthropist
of the purest type, a benefactor," and an educator of undis-
puted merit, ability, and genius, as well as a great saint.

SKETCH OF HIS LIFE.

De la Salle was born at Rheims, April 30, 1651. The name
and family are found connected with one of the famous ex-
plorers and missionaries of the New World. Marquette's mother
was Rose de la Salle, a relative of the saint.

He comes from the older branch of the family, Louis de la
Salle, his father, royal councillor at the presidial court at
Rheims, and his mother, Nicole Moe't de Brouillet, held an
honorable rank among the nobility of Champagne. Their
Hotel de la Croix d'Or was " the favorite resort of the men
of letters, men of the gown, and the fashionable society of the
place."

La Salle was ordained to the priesthood on April 9, 1678.
During the first years of his ministry he was thrown into inti-
mate spiritual relationship with persons devoted to educa-
tion.

In June, 1680, De la Salle took the first step in forming an
association by admitting the teachers to his own table ; finally,
a year later, he went to live with them in their own house.

" On leaving the paternal home," says Ravelet, " De la
Salle broke off with the past. He said farewell to the memor-
ies of his childhood, to the joys of his youth, and to all that
had surrounded his life up to this period. He had moved
farther away than ever from his kinsfolk, friends, and the
fashionable world, and he was advancing toward an unknown
future, with no guiding star save his love of God."

Touched by this admirable zeal and self-sacrifice of De la
Salle, some university bred men presented themselv.es for ad-
mission, at the beginning of 1682, and in the course of 1683.*
44 Among these," affirms Canon Blain, "there were to be found
men who had ability to manage schools, who had solid piety,
and excellent dispositions to become his true disciples."f The
saintly Founder was not slow to detect those who had no
aptitude for teaching. These he dismissed, while he trained

*Elie de Maillefer, Vie, p. 20. t Vie, 1733, p. 179.

VOL. LXXI. 43

674 Sr. JOHN- BAPTIST DE LA SALLE. [Aug.,

the others in the art of teaching. To this period belongs
the important creation of the Normal School, April 2, 1683.*

De la Salle saw himself insensibly drawn by Providence to
choose between the abandonment of the Christian schools and
the renunciation of ecclesiastical dignities which might hinder
the undertaking of the great, holy mission which had been en-
trusted to him. Evidently the serious crisis had come. The
crucial test is the measure of his heroic sacrifice. What more
natural, therefore, than the examination of his motives? " What
motives," he asks, "should actuate me in this choice? Un-
doubtedly, my end and aim should be the greater honor and
glory of God, the advancement of the church, my own perfec-
tion, and the salvation of souls. But if these be my motives,
then I should resign my canonry and devote myself exclusively
to the schools and to the education and training of teachers
who are to manage these schools." f

COMPAYRE'S MISTAKEN JUDGMENT.

Now, what could be more heroic or disinterested ? And
yet, Gabriel Compayr seems to have made a new discovery
concerning these motives. "But it is not," says he, "a disin-
terested love of the people, it is not the thought of their moral
regeneration, and of their intellectual progress, which animated
and sustained the efforts of De la Salle. . . . Heroic vir-
tues, it may be; but it may be added also, an unfortunate
disposition for a teacher of children. We distrust in advance
a system of teaching whose beginning was so sad, whose
founder enclosed his life within so narrow an horizon, and
which, at first, was illuminated by no rays of gladness and good
humor."J Assuredly, the historian of pedagogy " was enclosed
within so narrow an horizon " that he could not grasp the
wonderful breadth and depth of De la Salle's character.
Strange, indeed, that he should have allowed his better judg-
ment to be circumscribed by such narrow views. Any one
who reads the admirable, self-sacrificing life of the Founder of
the Brothers, the great genius among educational reformers,
will blush at the base insinuations of Gabriel Compayre.

How different the tone when Gabriel Compayre' speaks of
Pestalozzi! "He is pre-eminently great," he says, "by reason

* Annales de Flnstitut, t. i. p. 21 ; vide Essays Educational, by Brother Azarias, p. 243.

t Canon Blain, 1733, t. i. p. 192. \ Payne's Compayrl, History of Pedagogy, p. 260.

Quick, Educational Reformers, does not even mention De la Salle, and yet history
points to him as the peer of reformers ; cf. Brother Azarias, Educational Essays, criticism
of Compayre, p. 264.

i QOO.] ST. JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE. 675

of unquestionable love for the people, his ardent self sacrifice,
and his pedagogic instinct."* De la Salle was pre-eminently
the peer of Pestalozzi in all these characteristic qualities of an
educator. The former held a distinguished rank among the
nobility of Champagne, had wealth and social standing, where
as the latter could lay claim to no such distinctions. De la
Salle was a man of profound science and varied culture ; Pes-
talozzi was ignorant and uncouth, as he himself admitted in
his letters. An impartial study of De la Salle's life will con-
vince any unbiassed mind of the unselfish devotion and heroism
displayed by him during the forty years of his educational
apostleship.

True, then, to his noble instinct and higher vocation, and
indifferent to the opinions of men, De la Salle was fully re-
solved to renounce all honors and distribute his fortune among
the poor. The opportunity to do the latter came in the awful
famine of 1684. He desired that the spirit of hip Institute
should draw its strength from absolute disinterestedness, from
the love of poverty, from the pure zeal to labor for the salva-
tion of souls in perfect abandonment to Divine Providence.

Those of his adversaries who had most violently censured
his conduct heretofore were overcome by the manifestation of
such magnanimous virtue. All admired the man of charity,
who reminded them of some of the most illustrious saints of
the primitive church. Thus did he become voluntarily poor
and stripped of all ecclesiastical dignities. He was happy in the
midst of his disciples, for henceforth he would be one of them.

BEGINNINGS OF EDUCATIONAL WORK.

Thus far we have studied De la Salle preparatory to his
great work. The manner in which he was led to undertake
the educational apostleship was most singular, and yet it was
the logical sequence of concomitant circumstances and events
in his career. Now he stands forth to our view, at the ripe
age of three-and-thirty years, with a splendid intellect, a noble
heart, and a beautiful soul. He is the very type of noble
Christian manhood. His analytical mind prepares him to in-,
vestigate the laws and principles of education, his keen per-
ception quickly seizes the fallacies of prevailing systems, his
sound judgment readily suggests better methods, and his genius
inaugurates the educational reforms which will revolutionize
the methods of primary and elementary teaching, and indirectly

* Payne's Compayrt, p. 417.

676 Sr. JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE. [Aug.,

stimulate secondary and professional teaching. Evidently, he
was years in advance of the age. No unbiassed mind can
approach this eminent educator, as well as educational reform-
er, and, after having scrutinized his unblemished life and self-
sacrificing devotion to the cause of Christian education, not
feel convinced of the debt the educational world owes him,
and of which narrow-minded critics endeavor to rob him, while
placing the laurel wreath of merit upon less deserving brows.

From the time that De la Salle conceived the idea of re-
nouncing honors and fortune, his Institute began gradually to
assame a definite existence. It came forth from the clouds of
his first conception and it seemed to form itself on his model.
For the soul of the Founder is, as it were, the mould of his
Institute. De la Salle depended upon God for the endurance
of his work. He was thoroughly convinced that all human
efforts, however well sustained, are short-lived. Consequently,
placing greater reliance upon God than on man, he laid the
foundations upon an immovable and imperishable basis which
would in time become as strong as adamant.

Fully imbued with the importance of the work determined
upon, De la Salle made a retreat of several days to draw down
upon himself the necessary lights. Then he convoked the direc-
tors of the schools of Laon, Rethel, and Guise, who, with those
of the house, should constitute a legislative assembly. They
were twelve in number, and assembled May 9. 1684 For the
first time had they the opportunity of realizing the extent of
the sacrifices demanded of them to place their nascent society
upon a lasting foundation. The uncertainty of their future was
still unsolved and the darkness had not yet been wholly dis-
pelled. Neither the church nor the state had, as yet, recog-
nized their society and given to it legal existence. But despite
this seeming instability, their zeal was by no means dampened.
Emulated by the burning eloquence of their Founder and
sustained by his heroic example, they agreed upon some
general measures which would tend to insure order, discipline,
and uniformity among themselves. Hence, they resolved: i.
To form an association which should be known as the Society
of the Brothers of the Christian Schools ; 2. To assume a new
name, being preceded by the term Brother ; 3. To wear a
uniform habit, whose shape and color were to be determined
on by De la Salle. This habit was given only at the beginning
of the winter of 1684, and is the same which the Brothers wear
t) this day.

I
1900.] Sr. JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE. 677

HIS FIRST REFORMS.

In February, 1688, De la Salle went to Paris to open a
school in the parish of Saint-Sulpice. Having seriously studied
the situation and the needs of the children, he drew up a
schedule of study in accord with their actual requirements and
condition. But ere he carried out his programme he found it
essential to its success to introduce a radical change or re-
formation in the system hitherto followed in the schools. This
bold innovation was the substitution of the simultaneous for the
individual method, which took place in April, 1688. This method
has since been universally adopted in all popular systems of
education. Its introduction in Paris created a sensation. It
was a master stroke of genius.

There was another reason why the Brothers' school would
become popular in Paris. De la Salle, with the keen vision of
a great reformer, put aside the time-honored but illogical
system of teaching reading. With true scientific insight, long
before Pestalozzi and Froebel, and with greater success than
Peter Fourier, Komensky, Mgr. de Nesmond, and Charles
Dmia had glimmerings of, De la Salle perceived the absurdity
of retaining Latin readers to teach the primary notions of the
art of reading. This was neither natural nor rational. He,
therefore, effected another one of his sweeping reforms, by
abolishing the method then. in vogue and substituting his own
text written in the vernacular. It was truly a revolution in
the educational world of the day. At present it is acknow-
ledged to be the only rational method. We wonder why it
was not adopted at an earlier date. The credit of this reform
has never been given to De la Salle.

The success achieved by the Brothers in Paris, Rouen, and
Rheims soon spread beyond their limits. Several bishop?,
municipalities, and philanthropic persons requested De la Salle
to send them some of his excellent disciples. Happily, the
number of Brothers formed and trained in 1698 allowed him
to send the Brothers the following year to several provinces
where they had been most urgently demanded.

HE ESTABLISHES THE SUNDAY SCHOOL.

The genius of De la Salle was prolific and far-reaching. It
had a wide scope and was stamped with boldness. The clos-
ing of the seventeenth century will ever bear testimony to the
soundness of his innovations. And when it is borne in mind

678 ST. JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE. [Aug.,

that these reforms were introduced in an age not at all pre-
pared therefor, our admiration of him increases. This clearly
points out the fact that De la Salle anticipated in this move-
ment the progressive spirit of our own century. Sunday-schools
are to-day common and boarding-colleges numerous; but the
necessity of these institutions was apparent to De la Salle in
1699. Hence, in conjunction with M. de la Chetardie, rector
of Saint Sulpice, Paris, he opened a Sunday-school, under the
name of Christian Academy. It is true that Sunday-schools
existed prior to De la Salle, but their exclusive object was to
teach Christian doctrine, together with the merest elements of
reading. De la Salle's conception was more advanced, and as-
suredly on a broader scale. Only young men who had attained
their twentieth year were considered eligible. "The Brothers
examined the young men, over two hundred, and took note of
the branches each one desired to study. They were classified
according to their aptitudes. The lessons continued for three
hours. Afterward the students were all assembled and the
truths of religion were expounded to them."* The course
embraced book-keeping, geometry, drawing, architecture, hy-
drography, and other kindred subjects. Thus was De la Salle
the first educational reformer who fully took in the situation,
understood the wants of the times, and possessed both the
genius and will of execution.f

THE BOARDING COLLEGE WAS INCLUDED IN HIS SCHEME.

The history of the other innovation which De la Salle in-
troduced at this period, that is, the boarding-college, is the
following: When James II. of England lost his crown and
throne, in 1688, to William and Mary, he, with many Irish
nobles, sought refuge in France. Among these were fifty noble
youths whose education was still incomplete. Louis XIV.
could not employ them advantageously, owing to their ignor-
ance of the French language.

The Grand Monarque grasped the situation. With a gene-
rosity which was equalled only by the delicacy displayed, he
determined upon the plan of providing them with a suitable
education. But to whom could he safely entrust these noble

* Simon de Doncourt, Remarques historiques sur VEglise et la Paroisse de Saint-Sulpice.

f The opening of the Christian Academy precedes the public course of drawing estab-
lished by Duke Leopold, Florence, 1783, by eighty-four years. The Italian historian of peda-
gogy, Everardo Micheli, states that Duke Leopold's school "was the first of its kind of
which history makes mention." Evidently his researches were not very thorough, for he has
overlooked De la Salle, who is unquestionably the pioneer of this kind of Sunday-school.

1900.] ST. JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE. 679

exiles? Cardinal de Noailles was appealed to, and he in turn
consulted M. de la Chetardie. Here was Providence pointing
directly to De la Salle. The rector of Saint-Sulpice, who was
fully cognizant of this eminent educator's merit, unhesitatingly
named De la Salle as the onjy man who could successfully
undertake their educatjon. The choice was both pleasing and
acceptable to the cardinal, for De la Salle corresponded ex-
actly to the idea he had conceived of his rare talent and
ability. Accordingly, the plan was proposed to the Founder
of the Brothers, who immediately consented thereto.

By this action De la Salle gave positive proof that the
end or object of the Institute of the Brothers of the Christian
Schools was not limited exclusively, as some ignorantly assert,
to the sphere of primary free schools, or, in the language of
our century, to parochial schools. The enlightened Founder
of the Brothers had already taken occasion to emphasize the
fact by establishing a normal school as well as the technical
school of Saint-Sulpice.

While De la Salle was in Rouen his reputation as an emi-
nent educator of youth, which had preceded him, led many
wealthy and noble families to urge him to open in favor of the
children a special school at St. Yon, a suburb of Rouen. De
la Salle was not surprised at this request. It was, on the con-
trary, very acceptable to him, for it harmonized perfectly with
the broad and fecund idea he had conceived of education.
This is another proof that the writer's inference of the object
of the Brothers' Institute is not to be confined to parochial
schools.

De la Salle was above the narrow prejudices of the age.
He cheerfully consented, therefore, to open a boarding-college
whose course of study would be even more varied and extended
than that pursued in Paris. This college was opened in Octo-
ber, 1705, and De la Salle welcomed with joy all the children
of the wealthy and the nobility who were sent to be instructed
in the sciences and trained to piety. Therefore, the Brothers
are not, according to historical evidence, at variance with the
spirit of their saintly Founder .in conducting colleges and aca-
demies.

MANY OTHER REFORMS AT ST. YON.

Perceiving then that every grade of school, from the primary
up, laid undue stress on the Latin language, he resolved to in-
augurate a system better adapted to fit young men for the

680 ST. JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE. [Aug.,

higher business pursuits. Accordingly, he established a course
which, reversing the order of things, gave undivided attention
to the literature of the vernacular, to the fine arts, and the
sciences. A genius only could have formulated, at that period,
such a system in the face of preconceived ideas and pronounced
aversion to anything new in its educational methods. De la
Salle had both the genius and strength of character, hence the
system became a reality, and in this he differed essentially from
other educational reformers. To appreciate his services to edu-
cation by introducing this rational method, we have merely to
consider the herculean task of overcoming the prejudice of
centuries.

Evidently De la Salle felt the pulse of the age and discov-
ered its weakness. Therefore his remedy was heroic. Even in
the manner of conducting the studies he anticipated the nine-
teenth century. That method was elective. Each student ap-
plied himself to those branches best suited to his talents, tastes,
and calculated to further his pursuit in life. If we take up the
catalogues of our great American universities of to day, we will
find this very method prevalent in all of them, and it is being
more and more accentuated every year.

To this period likewise belongs the creation of the House of
Detention^ the precursor of our modern reformatories. It was
" a house to shelter," says the contemporary chronicler, " the
wayward young men of noble families, and thus save them
from libertinism. This was accomplished in the house of St.
Yon."*

There were, therefore, at St. Yon four distinct establish-
ments, forming undeniably the most general and unique insti-
tution then existing in Europe. In one part was the novitiate ;
in another, the boarding college ; in a third, the house of de-
tention, with an apartment for mildly demented persons; and
in a fourth, the manual training-school, with its workshops ;
while outside the walls was a free school for the children of
the neighborhood. De la Salle also opened there, in 1716, the
Christian Academy in favor of the young Brothers, where they
completed their literary, scientific, and pedagogic training.
There was besides even a botanical garden, to enable the pro-
fessor of botany to give practical lessons. Thus we see em-
bodied at St. Yon all the different kinds of institutions that the
genius of De la Salle had created.

* Histoire de Rouen, 1731, t. vi. p. 449.

1900.] ST. JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE. 681

THE EXTENSION OF THE INSTITUTE.

The reputation of the Institute caused the disciples of De
la Salle to be everywhere in demand. At the request of Mon-
seigneur de Vintimilli de Luc, Bishop of Marseilles, a school
was opened in that city, March 6, 1706. The novitiate con-
tinued to furnish De la Salle well formed subjects. The majority
of the Brothers trained by the wise, learned, and prudent
Brother Bartholomew remained firm in their calling and proved
themselves able and efficient teachers. The Founder was,
therefore, in a position to meet the urgent demands for his
disciples, and even to undertake a new series of establishment?.
Thus, from 1707 to 17 ci, the Annals of the Institute record
that he founded schools in Alais, Grenoble, Mende, St. DeniF,
Valreas, Versailles, Moulins, Vans, Boulogne- sur-Mer.

With this extension of the Institute De la Salle felt a cor-
responding increase of care and anxiety to keep alive among
the Brothers the spirit of their vocation and to maintain uni-
formity in methods of teaching. No opportunity was neglected
to advance their interests and procure them the best means to
attain excellent results. Hence, he frequently assembled the
most experienced and enlightened Brothers to discuss and de-
vise means to be adopted to educate youth and inspire them
with a true fear and love of God. But, however interesting
the arguments touching the religious and pedagogical require-
ments of the Brothers may be, mere discursive reasoning does
not bring about intelligent execution of the plans and methods
devised and adopted. It is essential, therefore, to permanency
of organization that the Founder appoint efficient men who
can carry out his views and see that they are intelligently
grasped and executed. De la Salle was too enlightened a man
not to foresee this necessity. Brother Joseph was accordingly
appointed as the inspector or visitor, whose business it was to
examine the pupils, note the methods of instruction of the
various teachers, and then make out his report, with such sug-
gestions as his wisdom dictated.

THE ATTACKS BY THE JANSENISTS.

Louis de Bonald, one of the greatest thinkers of this cen-
tury, speaking of the Institute founded by De la Salle, said :
' The Institute of the Brothers of the Christian Schools is a
master-piece of wisdom and knowledge of men." The Jan-
senists, who had risen against De la Salle in Marseilles, about

682 ST. JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE. [Aug.,

1712, held quite a contrary opinion. In their judgment the
Founder of the Brothers was inexperienced and incompetent
to govern an Institute. Consequently, they used their influ-
ence to destroy the schools, and particularly the novitiate.
Failing in these attempts, they resorted to calumny, the usual
weapon of every weak and lost cause. Even the character of
De la Salle was assailed and his faith impugned. Thus they
had hoped to force his departure from Marseilles, which would,
had they succeeded in accomplishing it, have been construed
as a great victory. But they failed to know their man. De la
Salle was ready to sacrifice his name and reputation, but never
would he have consented to suffer his faith to be questioned.
Hence, he prepared a memoir defending his doctrine and con-
duct. While speaking of his enemies with charity and modera-
tion, he exposed their doctrinal errors with a masterly hand.
His victory was complete. His friends, who had known him
principally by his virtues, now found, to their great delight,
that he was an intrepid and fearless champion of truth. The
Jansenists had to bear the full odium of their disgrace and
crushing defeat. But the scene of all these vile machinations
and sufferings became afterward the theatre of brilliant success
for the Brothers. " Future years," writes De Montis, ''repay
the unjust treatment of De la Salle's early trials in Marseilles;
few cities have since done more for the Institute."

Although De la Salle was only in his sixty-fifth year, he
determined in 1716 to carry out a project that had long been
in his mind, which was to resign his office as superior of the
Institute. Accordingly, on December 4, he convoked at St.
Yon the principal Brothers and acquainted them of his design.
He showed them the necessity and importance of such a step,
and that their choice should be one of themselves. He ended
his discourse by convincing them of the wisdom of his motives,
and sentiment gave way to reason. The Brothers proceeded
to the election of a superior-general, and the choice of the
assembly fell on Brother Bartholomew. Great was the joy of
De la Salle when he beheld the government of his Institute
organized as he desired it. Henceforth his work will live.
" God be blessed ! " he exclaimed when informed of Brother
Bartholomew's election; "for now n6thing shall be changed!

HIS DEATH-BED.

But -alas! this voice, whose accents had so frequently awak-
ene'd heroic sentiments in their hearts and inspired noble

1900.] ST. JOHN BAPTIST DE LA SALLE. 683

thoughts, became weaker and weaker. This light which had
illumined the path the Brothers were to tread appeared to be
casting its last rays, and was doomed soon to be extinguished.
For, during the months of^ February and March, 1719, De la
Salle was suffering excruciating pains from rheumatism and
asthma. But he was a marvel of patience. The end of that
grand career was near. On April 5 he became sensibly worse.
Despite the intense agony which he endured, his soul remained
calm and his countenance had always a sweet smile. He lay
on his bed of suffering like a victim longing for the moment
when his sacrifice would be consummated. 4< I know," said he
with inexpressible joy, " that my sufferings will soon be at an
end. I am about to die and shall soon behold my God, my
Saviour! God be blessed! I am resigned to his will; my life
is in his hands ! May his holy will be done ! "

A few minutes before his death he was asked if he willingly
accepted all the sufferings he was enduring? "Oh, yes," he
feebly replied ; " in all things I adore the will of God in my
regard ! " At three o'clock Good Friday morning, April 7, 1719,
he fell into an agony which lasted until four. During this ter-
rible crisis his body was indeed agitated, sensible, as it were,
of the moment of its dissolution ; but the countenance was
tranquil. At four he made an effort to raise himself as if to
go to meet some one, and with hands joined and eyes raised
toward heaven he expired. When his death was announced,
on all sides could be heard the exclamation : " The Saint is
dead ! The Saint is dead ! "

Thus lived and died one of the greatest educational reform-
ers of the seventeenth century.

" In prayer," writes a biographer, " he looked like an angel ;
at the altar, like a seraph ; in his conduct, he was truly an
apostolic man ; in tribulation, he was another Job ; in poverty,
a Tobias; in abandonment to Providence, a Francis of Assisi ;
in austerities, a second Abbe" de Ranee" ; in the practice of
obedience, a new Dositheus ; in the exercise of every virtue, a
perfect disciple of Jesus Christ. This is a true portrait of St.
John Baptist de la Salle and as he really was."

684

THE HOMES OF THE TOILERS.

[Aug.

pomes o? cse COIECRS.

Bere dwell tbe toilers dingp block on block

Of Douses like as kernels round a stalk ;

So manp windows, doors ; sucD space or trick ;

two steps, and tften tDe street one's Dcart grows sick !

Jill dap within tDe mills tDe roar of wDeels,
Dizzilp sliding belts and buzzing reels.
Chen Dome, so wearp that tDe wap is dim,
flnd tDe brick desert seems to wDiri and swim.
But Dome ! pes, Dome, despite its meagreness,
With wife and babe and hearth-side cheer to bless.

yea, when tDe light shines out, what peace is cast
Before tDe feet of Dim who wanders past !
WDat recks tDe outward, if bp love's clear blaze
Is crowned tDe inner altar tDat we raise?

CDese humble walls tDat shelter human hearts
Reed no distinction save what love imparts.
CDe magic name of " Borne " sDall ever be
their badge of beautp and of dignitp.

flnd wberesoe'er tDe toiler sDall abide,
Witb peace and lev* (o bkss Dis ingie=$ide,
CDere Domeless wealtD map fitlp crave a place,
find aft a finer cDarm tDan beautp's trace.

JAMES BUCKHAM.

1900.] THE POETRY OF LEO THE THIRTEENTH. 685

THE POETRY OF LEO THE THIRTEENTH.

BY ANNA BLANCHE McGILL.

N a fountain of a little valley-town of the
Volscian hills there is a Latin inscription which
tells how the water was borne a dark way
'neath the fell, down from the mountain top :

" From Pandolfo's lofty crest,
Noiseless, knowing not to rest,
Joyous to the vale I come.
Princely Pecci bade me
He who first in purple clad,
Honor-crowned of sacred Rome,
Made his native valley glad."

Often, as a boy among his native hills, Princely Pecci, the
Holy Pontiff, sipped from the bubbling stream, and when
grown to man's estate, mindful of the corporal as well as the
spiritual comfort of his flock, he built the Carpinetian fountain,
giving his birthplace a boon of pure water. And there seems
to me an analogy between this gift for the people's physical
nourishment and refreshment, and another for their intellectual
pleasure which Leo has given by calling down from its
ancient sources and bringing forth from the centuries' incrusta-
tions a precious stream of classic Latinity, fresh and crystal
clear as when it first welled in the eternal purlings of Horace
or the stately, flowing eloquence of Cicero.

In the age's annals the glory of bestowing on modern litera-
ture a Latin increment will doubtless be shared by two other
famous figures, the century's two other eminent Latinists,
Newman and Gladstone ; but in the final reckoning this
special glory of the three must be most splendid for Leo.
Added to the perquisites of scholarship and natural elegance
of expression common to the others, he has possessed this
superior advantage that to him Latin has been virtually
a living language ; to them a potent weapon they could wield
gracefully and successfully, but a lifeless weapon to him
an Excalibur that thrilled at his touch, grew animate in his

686 THE POETRY OF LEO THE THIRTEENTH. [Aug.,

grasp. For, over and above the fact that his classical edu-
cation (as also theirs) was begun practically in babyhood,
Leo had the good fortune to be born in a country where
Latin was once the vulgar tongue, where its remnants in
their purest, most intact form yet survive in the Italian
language. And paramount still to this and other considera-
tions which made for his greater proficiency was his early af-
filiation with that body which has always employed the Latin
as its vernacular, which has preserved the language through
all periods of barbaric ignorance and classic decadence the
Catholic Church. Under these auspicious circumstances has
Latin in Leo's hands, though a dead language, become not
only vital, but, what is still more difficult, instinct with his
own individuality, making the critics marvel and applaud.
George Goyan says : " Leo the Thirteenth has accomplished the
almost impossible feat of writing in a dead language with a
style of his own ; this is what characterizes and surprises."

And yet considering the Holy Pontiff's upbringing in the daily
use of the language, his early and constant training in its classic
literature, the Latin prose of the encyclicals is not his most won-
derful literary achievement ; it seems rather a natural consequence
that " Immortale Dei " should be flawless, should stand forth as
model Latin diction, whether compared with that of the great
Romans or that of modern scholars. But when one remembers
his life so occupied, indeed harassed, by the perplexities of
church and state affairs a life which would ordinarily tend to
the production of prose alone the perfections of his poetry
must give one pause and reason for marvel. Especially when it is
remembered that poetizing, far from being his " sole office upon
earth," is his mere pastime ; alas ! too often his respite from
mental and physical pain during dull, " dreary nights and between
tardy slumbers." It is to the glory of his poetical facility that
such compositions of sleepless vigils bear no trace of the mor-
bidity and melancholy that usually stamp other bards' nocturnal
perpetrations ; on the contrary, so limpid and lucid are Leo's
night thoughts one would believe they were done when " the
day's at the morn, the hill-side's dew-pearled," when "the
lark 's in his heaven."

That lark's song offers, perhaps, the truest similitude for
them, since they resemble its pure, simple strain of lyrical
delight more than anything else. For whoever tastes the " well
of" Latin "undefiled" supplied by the Carmina Leonis, ex-
pecting to gain therefrom a draught highly flavored with a

1900.] THE POETRY OF LEO THE THIRTEENTH. 687

rich figurative language, a variety of imagery, new music,
powerful epic or dramatic effects, will be disappointed ; but
whosoever delights in dignity of diction, mellifluous if not
original rhythmical charm, a graceful if not an epic versifica-
tion, will find gratification in abundance.

If the prose of Leo suggests the " conciseness of Tacitus,
the richness and elegance of Cicero, and the grace of Sallust,"
no less does his verse suggest the dignity of Virgil, though
frequently some felicitous turn or choice of theme might lead
one to expect Horatius Flaccus as the superscription. But
what a contrast between the gentle epicureanism of " carpe
diem," the gather- ye-rosebuds philosophy of the poet of the
Sabine farm, and the heroic Christian stoicism of " No
trembling fear shall bend me, the lapsing joys of life cannot
allure, while yearningly I wait eternity's imperishable peace."
In sentence-arrangement and movement of lines Leo particu-
larly resembles Virgil ; small wonder, since Virgil is his poet
par excellence, his master at the Roman lyre. The same musi-
cal instinct which leads Leo to use the majestic-flowing Vir-
gilian style impels him to concords of sweet sounds in his
words and syllables. He has a special fondness for such words
as ovili and dulce, whose suavity is of sense as well as sound.
The music of many of his lines defies translation ; for instance,
can one accomplish a rendition worthy of " Leniter exiliens
Pandulphi e colle superas," or that other " Spring whose sil-
very waters the flowery meadows are seeking " ? One might
as well try English imprisonment for the elusive, immortal
charm of Horace's fons Bandusiae, "dulce digne mero." This
particular sensitiveness to euphony, as well as the talent for
succinct expression which stamps the prose of the encyclicals,
gives many of his phrases the subtle grace that will make
them pass into proverb ; such a happy combination is " dulce
pro ovili sanguinem fundere," though indeed one thinks imme-
diately of its prototype, "dulce pro patria mori."

The figurative language of the Carmina is seldom original,
nor has it much variety; the favorite similes and metaphors
being those of the sea, the shepherd and sheepfold. It is true
the Pontiff-poet often brings a very pearl of metaphors from
the ocean, and his fond frequency in illustrating by the " flock "
and kindred phraseology is pardonable, indeed attractive, con-
sidering his eminent office of bonus pastor.

The sentiments that permeate the book breathe principally
an odor of sanctity or friendship, many of the verses being

688 THE POETRY OF LEO THE THIRTEENTH. < [Aug.,

personal, some few autobiographical. An interesting one of the
latter type is that beginning '-Quam flore in primo felix":

" How happy was thy life's young dawn,
Those days among the Lepine hills,
Sweetened by thy home's dear charms,
Serene and void of ills."

But the muse rises to the most inspired heights in two odes
in honor of St. Herculanus and St. Constantius. In both
poems narrative and apostrophe are deftly combined. Their
rhythms swing with stately movement, and their words ring with
a resonance worthy of martial Roman odes. In the second
mentioned the hymn to St. Constantius Leo displays admir-
able graphic skill, a veritable wizard power in conjuring scenes
before one's eyes. St. Constantius was bishop and martyr of
Perugia; put to death under Marcus Aurelius Verus. Among
his tortures was the torment of burning coals. The Perugians
revere his memory annually by a celebration called the Feast
of Lights, when the whole town is lantern-lighted, the suburbs
ablaze with bonfires. On the vigil of the holiday the towns-
people, bearing torches and offerings, walk through the streets
in procession to the saint's shrine. This incident Leo commem-
orates in the ode. Horace's classic outlines of the train of
vestal virgins climbing the Capitolian hill come before the
mind's eye, as Leo leads along a stately throng of seniors,
fathers, mothers, and " maidens with measured tread and
suppliant eyes " :

" When they reach the Martyr's shrine,
Where brightly blazing tapers flare,
The joyous throng in serried line
Beseech the Martyr's potent care :
* Constantius, guardian, heavenly sire,
List to thy children ! ' "

This ode and the one to St. Herculanus are the longest,
the most sustained efforts in the collection ; neither is much
over one hundred lines in length. It would seem the Holy
Father believes in Poe's dictum : " The greatest poems must
be short. For the poetic inspiration is of the nature of a flash
of lightning and endures only for a moment." In sooth some
of* his most delightful lines are found in the numerous epi-

1900.] THE POETRY Of LEO THE THIRTEENTH. 689

grams which seem fairly to roll off his pen. They are char-
acterized by an ingenious charm, a delicacy and finesse of
thought and expression ; their spontaneity makes them appear
what the word epigram really means poetic sports. One of
the most artistic is that to Serafina Paradise, a cherished
friend :

'* Should'st haply ask what name he hath, where dwelleth he,
This painted tablet shall more truly tell it thee.
It saith : his fatherland is Paradise, his name
The glowing Seraphim, as theirs proclaim."

This epigrammatic skill Leo manifested at an early age;
as a small boy he wrote dedicatory verses in such form to
his teachers and friends. He was truly an eminent illustration
of " poeta nascitur, non fit " ; when he was only fifteen, he
won a prjze for the best hexameters on Baltassar's Feast. Six
hours were allotted him for writing the poem, no external aid
or reference books being allowed ; at the end of the time, one
hundred and twenty verses, and not mediocre ones, attested
his fluency in versification.

Notwithstanding Italy's injustices to Leo his lips often part
in eulogies of his birth-land and Dante's ; Dante shares with
Virgil the Holy Father's devotion. Several stanzas are rap-
turous with praises of the " sweet Italian plains, the laeta Au-
soniae tellus illustrious in victories, culture, and faith."

Among the personal poems and those of sentiment none is
so beautiful as that to Gertrude Sterbini-, his beloved and
peerless sister, who, " ripe for Paradise, entered into the peace
of Christ." The lines reveal the unflinching loyalty with which
Leo has clung to his family a loyalty manifested not only in
his fidelity to the near and dear ones but in his staunch clan-
ship with others of his race. He thus addresses the sister,

"... safe within the haven
Of the voiceless, viewless shore " :

" Beam upon us like a lodestar
Lighting up the trackless plain,
Leading clear of shoals and quicksands
Through the dark, mysterious main."

With no discourtesy to the worthy Jesuits of Woodstock,
who have so lovingly and admirably rendered the poems into
VOL. LXXI. 44

THE POETRY OF LEO THE THIRTEENTH.

[Aug.,

English, one must regret the fettering of the Latin rhythms in
our rhymes. The dignity and fugitive grace of the original
yet challenge and well-nigh defy translation. One feels this
especially of those beautiful lines called Leo's last Prayer to
God and the Blessed Virgin, wherein the Holy Father com-
mends himself to heaven in Latin no less noble than the senti-
ments expressed. Some one, wisely despairing of rendering it
into creditable, adequate verse, has judiciously done it into
prose: "May I reach heaven, O last boon of delight! And
be for ever in the all-luminous presence of my God, and be
with thee, O Virgin, whom as a little child I loved as a
Mother, and now, an aged man, I cherish still more ardently.
Receive me into Heaven, where I, a fellow-citizen of the saints,
shall glorify thee eternally." Ah, Scipio, Cicero, Tacitus, ha^e
you dreamed anything like this in your philosophy when you,
seeing but vaguely, " as in a glass darkly," so valiantly sent

" Your soul through the Invisible,

Some letter of that After-life to spell"?

Reading this Extrema Vota one feels that at last the Latin lan-
guage, the glorious instrument of the ancients' ample period, has
come unto its own ; the .expression has found a worthy, tanta-
mount thought, and with genuine pride and gratification one
replaces among the "worshipful tomes," the immortal monu-
ments of the wise men of old Livy, Caesar, and Cicero, the
scholar in politics the Carmina Leonis, the poems of him who
has so conspicuously combined statesmanship, scholarship, and
a beautiful Christian life with (not the least of his attain-
ments) the gentle office of poet Leo XIII., Pontifex Maximus
- the " noblest Roman of them all."

1900.] WHEN SCHOOL-DAYS ARE OVER. 691

WHEN SCHOOL-DAYS ARE OVER.

BY HON. JUDGE CORTWRIGHT.

;T is a truth questioned only by the thoughtless, that
a young man's education is by no means com-
pleted when his school-days are ended be he
certificated from a grammar or high-school, diplo-
maed from a business school, or even degreed
from a college or a university. He may leave his Alma
Mater loaded with her honors and decorated with medals
of distinction, yet if he has not learned to think methodically
and to study systematically, he is not only not educated but
bids fair never to become an educated man. If he has not
learned how to think and how to study, his mind is simply
loaded with other men's lumber ; or, in the words of Pope,

" He is but a bookful blockhead, ignorantly read,
With loads of learned lumber in his head."

Undigested thoughts, meaningless terms, crude ideas, and
isolated facts are there, chaotically jumbled together. He can
make no use of them. He knows not their value.

Indeed, it would seem that the day of graduation has been
named with a view to remind the graduate that study in earn-
est is about to begin for him. It is called, most appropriately,
Commencement Day. The young man on that day is supposed
to be ready to begin a systematic course of study. Heretofore
he had been taking general views of things. His mind had
been busy about many things. He knows a little about most
things and not much, practically, about anything. Yet he thinks
he knows it all.

One thing, at least, he should know : and that is, what work
or walk in life he is best suited for. He should know enough
not to attempt what is beyond his power, or to grasp at what
is not tangible. Still, this is what is done by not a few young
men. It were well for such to reflect on these pointed couplets
of the satirical Swift :

" All human race would fain be wits,
But millions miss for one that hits ;
Yet every fool his claim alleges
As if it grew in common hedges.

692 WHEN SCHOOL-DAYS ARE OVER. [Aug.,

The dog by instinct turns aside
That sees the ditch too deep and wide ;
The foundered horse will long debate
Before he tries a five-bar gate.
But man alone 's the only creature
Who, urged by folly, combats nature,
And where his instinct least inclines
Absurdly bends his whole designs."

But let us suppose commencement day passed, and let us
further suppose our young graduate to have selected the
career for which he is best fitted ; how is he to proceed ? If
he has decided to become a professional man, and circum-
stances permit him to begin preparations, he must eliminate
from his curriculum all studies and authors foreign to his pro-
fession. The mind that heretofore had ranged over matters
most dissimilar, must now, directly or indirectly, be centred
on one. To master the principles of that one (to know all
about -it, life were too short) all else must be ignored or re-
garded only in relation to the subject on which the mind is set.

Of course, time for relaxation is needed. Hence occasional
rambles with the novelists, odd strolls with the poets, and even
whiles, now and then, with the humorists, are not out of place.
The young man whom we are now considering is on the right
road ; all he requires is to keep straight on. But if our gradu-
ate lacks the means to begin his professional studies at once,
what must he do ? He must work to acquire the means work,
if need be, with pick and shovel. He must not be a laggard,
for, as says the Scotch poet Mackey :

" He who lags for dread of daily work,
And his appointed task would shirk,
Commits a folly and a crime,
A soulless slave, a paltry knave,
A clog upon the wheels of time.
With work to do and store of health,
The man's unworthy to be free
Who will not give, that he may live,
His daily toil for daily fee."

Let our young graduate do this, ever keeping the end in
view, and he will surely reach the goal of his ambition.
Though the last to be realized, the end is and must be first in
the intention.

But enough of the College Graduate. The vast majority of

1900.] WHEN SCHOOL-DAYS ARE OVER. 693

boys do not receive a collegiate education, and most of them
eventually become business men, bankers, merchants, clerks,
mechanics, and tillers of the sbil. The opportunities of many
of these to acquire a knowledge of books have been very
limited if not entirely wanting, and yet from that class have
sprung men renowned in the world of letters self-made men
who have climbed to literary or scientific eminence, while those
with all the advantages which an early and thorough training
supplies plodded on through life unnoticed and unknown.
Others in the political world have risen to distinction and be-
come leaders among men. 'Twere a waste of time to name
even some of the self-educated men who have figured in history,
and who, even in our own day, have compelled the recognition
which well-directed and persistent effort is sure to command.

But how came they to achieve success? How did they rise
from the plain of ignorance to the Alpine heights of knowl-
edge they have reached ? The answer is simple the only
answer that satisfies the question. It is : by work ; earnest,
constant, persevering work: Sir Isaac Newton made marvellous
discoveries ; when asked how he did so, his answer was : " By
thinking." Ask an Edison by what wizard power he has realized
the electric wonders among which we live and move, and he will
answer you : 4< By thinking, and working to realize my thought."
Yes, the ancients were right ; there is no excellence without
great labor. Man is, emphatically, the architect of his own for-
tune. That fortune he makes or mars, according to his work.

But let us consider the boy or young man who has been
deprived wholly or partially of the advantages of attending
school. He had, perchance, before he reached his teens, to
join the great army of bread-winners a disabled father, a sickly
mother, or helpless little brothers and sisters called for his
feeble strength. He goes to work for them. He gives them
cheerfully the little all he makes. He grieves it is not more.
How sadly grand or grandly sad, and how beautiful as well,
to see such a boy ! He is not a stranger amongst us. Who
is there that does not know of such? That boy goes forth in
the morning carolling as the lark, and comes home to repose
at eventide. Just now he cannot study labor and fatigue pre-
vent. But his day is coming, and when it dawns the studies he
was forced to quit will be resumed not, perhaps, in college, but
resumed they will be, and another name will be added to the
long and honored roll of self-made men.

He is, as we have seen, a boy of sense, a generous-

694 WHEN SCHOOL-DAYS ARE OVER. [Aug.,

hearted boy, a manly boy a boy who seeks not a quarrel, but
if a fight is forced upon him he will not play the coward.
He knows his rights, and knowing, dares maintain them. He
is at work. His every moment has its duty. His time for rest
is brief ; for book-study, almost nothing. Yet he is not men-
tally idle. He is learning a trade, studying a business, planning
for the future. He is modest not boastful, attentive but not
officious, observant but not obtrusive. At first his work,
whether in store or shop or factory or office, may be crude,
but soon his mind will become quick to perceive, his eye swift
to discern, and his hand deft to perform. Thus, everything
connected with his business he studies. He knows its be-
ginning, follows it through all its stages of development, and
finally masters it ; he knows that he knows it.

The circle of his acquaintances is now extending. He is
thrown in contact' with men. He sees the clashing of intel-
lects. He listens to discussions on various questions. He
would like to take part, but needs must be silent he knows
not what to say. His curiosity is excited, his ambition aroused.
In his mind the germ without which an education cannot be
has been planted. He will nurture it, cultivate it, and almost
certainly some day he will reap its golden fruit. The die is
cast. His mind is made up to study ; but how will he
begin? Not with the encyclopaedia it never made a scholar,
but it has filled the world with smatterers ; it is good in its
place as a b<3ok for ready reference, and should be used just
as we use a dictionary.

To master any branch of study we must begin with its first
principles. " Every science and profession," says the profound
Balmes, "has primary elements, terms and phrases, peculiar to
itself ; we can learn them only in elementary books. This
reason alone, independently of any other, proves conclusively
that elementary studies cannot be dispensed with."

Not, then, by devouring learned and exhaustive treatises
which are far beyond his grasp, but by masticating and digest-
ing the rudiments of a science or art must the bread-winning
boy begin his course of self-education. To make progress he
must begin at the beginning, meet and surmount each difficulty
as it rises in his path ; never bother about page two until page
one is possessed, and thus, inch by inch, climb up the hill of
knowledge, which never is topped at a single bound. Nor
must he be cast down or affrighted by obstacles. Frequently
they a"re not real ; but, like mountains seen from a distance,

1900.] WHEN SCHOOL-DAYS ARE OVER. 695

whose summits melt into the skies, and over which, in our
childish days we thought it impossible* to pass, when we drew
nearer, and hence could see clearer, the heavens receded, the
hills settled down, and roads and paths we dreamt not of were
plain to our eyes and not hostile to our feet.

The young man who has left school should continue his stu-
dies, if he would apply himself to books with profit. He must,
as has been noted, study with order, with method. He must
ground himself thoroughly in elementary matters they are the
foundation. Unless he knows these, he can make no progress.
Without them, he may become flippant and superficial, but an edu-
cated man never. Let him remember, too, that the circle of hu-
man knowledge is too large to be completely compassed by any
man, and that a scholar, in the true sense of the word, is not
a man who knows all about everything. He is rather a man
who knows much about one subject, and a little about almost
every other. Reading well selected, the elements supposed,
will give the little about most things, and special, serious, and
unremitting study will give the much about one.

I have told you no new truths, advanced no new theory.
I have but simply repeated " what you yourselves do know " :
that " the very best schools and colleges," to use the words of
Wirt, ' that can fling wide their portals to you, can do no
more than afford you the opportunity of instruction, but that
it must depend upon yourselves at last whether you will be
instructed or not, or to what point you will push your instruc-
tion " ; that there is no royal road to learning, and that none
rises even to the point of mediocrity in scholarship without
studious habits, and method in study. Not a man that is
justly styled great, not a man who has adorned his age or
even the circle in which he moved, not a man that has left a
good name and a pleasant memory as a legacy to posterity,
but was, in his sphere of life, studious, thoughtful, attentive.
Would you attain to such distinction, and transmit to those
that are to be a similar inheritance, you too must be atten-
tive, thoughtful, studious. Without these traits you will never
leave lasting foot-prints on the sands of time, never rise above the
ordinary, never do intelligently a deed that 's worth recording.

In conclusion I would say to any young man who has left
school: Delay not to begin or continue some course of study.
4< Youth," as says the poet Young, " is not rich in time ; it
may be poor. Part with it as with thy money, sparing ; pay-
no moment but in purchase of its worth."

696 THE LEGEND SWEET. [Aug.

SHE LCEGEND SWEET.

|UT from the choir, down the corridor,

Slowly she moved, still thinking on what Guest
She had received but one half-hour before
So lovingly into her happy breast
O that heart !
Loving heart
The Blessed Mother, St. Teresa, who

Stood speechless suddenly, amaz'd to see
A little child in robe of snowiest hue

Princely the babe, in his sweet majesty ;
Wondering, she look'd and look'd into his face ;
What relative might this be, of which nun ?
And bending toward him, crav'd with stately grace :
' Tell me, I pray, thy name, sweet little one ?
Who thou art ?
And whence thou art? J>

He looked up laughingly into her eyes ;

She put her arms around him : " Tell me thine ! "
He said ; his looks were dreams in summer skies ;
"Tell me thy name; and I will tell thee Mine! "
And he smiPd,
Sweetly smil'd :
" Teresa of Jesus," the Holy Mother cried,

Her face with love in ecstasy aflame ;
And then the wee bright stranger quick replied,

" And Jesus of Teresa is My name ! "
Her arms left empty ; ah that she had known
Whither He, in that crown of brighter light
That playing still amidst the sunbeams shone
Whither He'd vanish'd from her ravish'd sight !
That lovely Child-
O glorious Child !

THE latest issue of the Temple Classics is
Caxton's edition of the famous Legenda Aurea.
Little need be said to our readers in recommen-
dation of so well known a volume. For the his-
torian, for the litterateur, for the lover of the good
old faith, its pages possess an interest quite absorbing. If
ever a translation possessed the flavor of an original, surely in
this work of Caxton's we find an instance worthy of special
notice. One is transported by it back to the Ages of Faith ;
one breathes the atmosphere of their simple piety, gazes as if
with bodily eyes upon the lofty spiritual enthusiasm that
wrought out the glories of the chant, the splendor of the cere-
monial, the ethereal beauty of the upspringing arch.

It may be that few of those who, from our point of view,
most need such books as the present volume, will possess the
taste or the patience to con its pages. The language is the
quaint old English of full four centuries ago unadorned, and
quite too undefiled for the perusal by the people who are
constantly telling us what religion was like in Europe before
the Blessed Reformation. If one of this class should pick up
the Golden Legend* he would find there, in striking combina-
tion, a childlike piety, a marvellous personal devotion to our
Blessed Saviour, and a thorough sympathy with the saints,,
festivals, and liturgical customs of the Catholic Church. Per-
haps few books present a better picture of that simple and
wonder-loving faith which made much of the saints indeed, and
called Christ's Mother "Our Blessed Ladye," but in altogether
the same spirit spoke of the "sweet Lord Jesu " in such ten-
der accents as to thrill us with the sense of a pure and un-
conscious love surpassed in no other generation. This volume,
be it remembered, was one of the most popular books in all
Europe in the first century of the printer's era. Countless

* The Golden Legend ; or, Lives of the Saints, as Englished by William Caxton. 2 vols.
Edited by F. S. Ellis. London : J. M. Dent ; New York : Macmillan Company.

6c8 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS.

Latin editions, translations into most European tongues, suc-
cessive alterations and adaptations and additions these indi-
cate that we shall not exaggerate in asserting its lovable spirit
to be in perfect harmony with the universal popular devotion
of Catholic ages. Hence, a special reason for according wel-
come to this new edition, and for hoping that it may con-
tribute its little share to building up " historical " notions of
the church's history.

Father Largent's Life of St. Jerome* is a late number in
the series of the Saints, and is an excellent addition. It gives
the reader a good idea of the great Latin doctor and of the
times in which he lived. The biography is filled with copious
extracts from St. Jerome's letters and other writings, which
well illustrate his personality. The general appearance of the
book is good, but the proof-reading betrays inexcusable care-
lessness. Such mistakes occur as Labellius for Sabellius, Azanze
for Nazianza, Veil ad per one cannot imagine what. The
translation, too, is poorly done ; in some places the meaning is
positively unintelligible.

It is not often given to a story-teller to please two publics.
Those who hold with the Romantic school will usually have
none of the analytical -novelist, whose devotees in turn have
only contumely or supercilious toleration for the romanticists.
But here is Mr. James Lane Allen, whose novel, The Reign of
Law,\ appeals to both parties. Lovers of light literature and
those who have lingered over the happy idylls, The Kentucky
Cardinal and Aftermath, will find in this new story of the Ken-
tucky hemp-fields the same captivating glamour that colored
those earlier volumes, and will scarcely realize that an analyti-
cal novel is beguiling them ; whereas the more serious-minded
readers of fiction, who are wont unflinchingly to track nine-
teenth century heroes and heroines through mazes of motive
and emotion demanding concentrated attention and subtle in-
sight necessary for the unravelling of mathematical problems,
will also find gratification in the book, for it is primarily a
ps>chical novel and nothing else. All the episodes are dis-
tinctly spiritual ones. And yet the sober-eyed class must these
summer days feel joy in discovering these episodes imbedded

* Saint Jerome. By Father Largent ; with preface by George Tyrrell, SJ. New York :
Benziger Brothers.

f The Reign of Law : A Tale of the Kentucky Hemp-fields. By James Lane Allen.
With illustrations by Harry Fenn and J. C. Earl. New York : Macmillan Co.

i goo.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 699

in an ore of poetry and romance which makes their charm for
the idealists, and which is Mr. Allen's Southern heritage.

This is the frame-work of the story : a son of the soil, David,
the descendant of a "grim, old Indian- righting grandfather, who
first built a church in the Kentucky wilderness consecrate to
freedom of belief," the heir of his ancestor's religious tempera-
ment and tolerance, hears, while working in his father's hemp-
fields, communing with nature closely as did the Psalmist, the
41 commands of the Gospels, the long reverberations of that
absolute Voice bidding irresolute work-a-day disciples leave the
plough in the furrow and * Follow Me.' ' David responds to
the call, and enters Bible College as a candidate for the minis-
try. There, after the first joyous draught at the fountains of
knowledge, he begins to be harassed into doubt and unbelief
by his tutors' narrownesses and their unsympathy with his in-
tellectual and spiritual struggles. Through their meagre ability
to lead him into the ways of light, he ultimately falls under
the thrall of Darwinism and " the new science " evolution.
Here the punctilious critic scents anachronism, for Darwin's
book, named as the hero's pabulum at this stage of his mental
growth, was not published till a date later than the time of
the incident. Alack! no such license is allowed the prose-
writer, even though it makes for the artistic movement of his
narrative.

The heroine, Gabriella, one of those Southern women whose
names and natures are redolent of old romance, is a type of many
who after the Civil War bore a sharp brunt of the recon-
structed social conditions. Cast from the luxury of the old
aristocracy, " with the extravagance, the gayety, the pride,
etc,," into almost poverty, she was forced to be self-supporting.
Grappling with the new and difficult mode of life, she found
chief solace in the religion David had repudiated. The contact
of her nature with his gives the love-motif and guides him from
infidelity to recognition of a God of love.

Mr. Allen depicts with keen intelligence the solitary spiritual
life of the young giant as he " broke hemp " or cut " weeds in
a woodland pasture," reading two books the Bible and that
great volume, the visible universe discovering in both the reve-
lation of the Divine Countenance; and very sympathetically
are described the student raptures on entering that Mecca, the
university raptures bitterly changed to agonies when doubts
and conflicts with preceptors began to cloud his mind. David
and Gabriella are practically the only characters. This meagre-

7oo TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

ness of characterization is to be regretted, as Mr. Allen in
other stories has already given proof of his ability to create and
handle a variety of types to so place them on his stage that they
subserve the chief actors and make for greater breadth of plot
and background. The characterization in The Reign of Law is
affected rather by sketches of the dramatis personae than by
their asserting themselves in dialogue or dramatic incidents ;
yet so absolute are the grace and sufficiency of the narrative
it seems like carping to lament lack either of incident or dia-
logue. Mr. Allen's style is marked by a lucidity, fluency, and
dignity of diction which place him among the foremost literary
artists of the country.

Without wishing again to cauterize an old wound, one con-
trasts with gratification Mr. Allen's choice in the present story
of a theme worthy of his powers the revealing of a soul's
lofty emotion, its outreach for religion and pure love with
that other theme used in A Summer in Arcady, which, with
due deference to Mr. Allen's unassailable purity of moral
purpose and refined conception of literary art and ethics, was,
to put it most krndly, a portrayal of mere primitive passion, and
a descent in theme-selection unworthy of the skill which, as is
now proven, can capably concern itself with the finer materials
of literature the mind and spirit of man, so infinitely above
the drossy animal nature. Too, one must recognize the nobler
employment of the nature-background in this new novel. With
felicitous symbolism is shown a similitude between the hero
and heroine, distinguished for moral vigor, and the firm fibred
plant, used in the landscapes of the story : " Ah, type, too, of
our life, which also is earth-sown, earth-rooted ; which must
struggle upward, be cut down, rotted and broken, ere the
separation take place between our dross and our worth poor
perishable shard and immortal fibre. Oh ! the mystery, the
mystery of that growth from the casting of the soul as a seed
into the dark earth until the time when, led through all
natural changes and cleansed of weakness, it is borne from the
fields of its nativity for the long service."

Considering the late reign of lawlessness in Kentucky, the
title of the present story (published in England as The One
Increasing Purpose} falsely leads one to suppose it touches the
political situation. However, Mr. Allen does make one sage
commentary on the recent dire happenings when he laments
the failure of the Kentucky pioneers to establish in the com-
monwealth a seminary for Kentucky boys : " Sad chapter

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 701

the history of the Kentuckians ! Perhaps the saddest among the
many sad ones. For such an institution must in time have
taught what all its court houses and all its pulpits, laws human
and divine, have not been able to teach : it must have taught
the noble commonwealth to stop murdering. Standing there in
the heart of the people's land, it must have grown to stand in
the heart of their affections ; and so standing, to stand for
peace. For true learning always stands for peace. Letters
always stand for peace. And it is the scholar of the world
who has ever come into it as Christ came : to teach that
human life is worth saving and must be saved." This is one
note of the situation, but not the key-note -so poignantly sug-
gestive of thought is the condition one must make this digres-
sion for undoubtedly the burden of the disasters lies upon the
Kentucky churches. Much have they done, it is true, to restrain
the lawlessness inbred in the high-spirited, hot-mettled people
of the blue grass, but when one considers the statistics of the
missions and notes the disparity between them and the popu-
lation, one sees the very core of the trouble, and one must
feel righteous jealousy nay, indignation towards that mis-
guided missionary spirit that goes continually and dauntlessly
gathering shekels for Chinese and African conversions (lately
energetic for the " rescuing of Cuba and the Philippines from
Catholic clutches " ), when here lies the viper in our own bosoms,
the beam in our own eye one can scarcely heap too many
metaphors, the problem of the spiritually poor, the great unfed
within our own doors.

The choice of poems from Wordsworth, the Brownings,
Tennyson, Shelley, Keats, Gray, and Coleridge, also the selec-
tion of the best passages in the poems, which Mr. O'Hagan
makes in his Studies in Poetry * reflect credit on his literary taste
and judgment. But wise words about the masters should glow
with more charm of style than clothes Mr. O'Hagan's inter-
pretations. Such a charm he makes one anticipate when he
says in his preface : " The primary purpose in the study of
poetry is not discipline and instruction but exaltation and in-
spiration, the liberation of the imagination and the enrichment
of the spirit." Verily is this the purpose in the study of
poetry, but also is it the duty of the critic who elects himself
guide to the Heliconian heights.

* Studies in Poetry, Critical, Analytical, and Interpretative. By Thomas O'Hagan,
M.A., Ph.D. Boston : Marlier, Callanan & Co.

702 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

Now, " instruction and discipline " may easily be gained
from the present volume, but not much exaltation and inspira-
tionnone of that rare delight the essays of Matthew Arnold,
Sainte Beuve, or Lowell give through the art that makes their
' appreciations relished with a zest akin to that the poetic feasts
themselves incite.

This with all kindness to Mr. O'Hagan, for we recognize
and applaud his fidelity to high literary standards and his
loyalty to the cause Catholic, but we must regret that his criti-
cal diction and his originality of interpretation are not more
tantamount to those of the authorities he appropriately but
perhaps too frequently quotes.

One thought only the politicians were distraught about the
recently contemplated moving of our star of empire westwarc
over the Philippines, but it appears the Muse has been bus;
about our interpretation or misinterpretation of the Monro<
doctrine. The volume entitled Liberty Poems* might, we think,
more accurately be named A Defence of Aguinaldo and thi
Filipinos, or A Protest against Imperialism and Expansion,
Washington, Jefferson, and Lincoln are in its pages lyricalb
summoned to hurl anathemas against our grasping policies
Roman autocrats, George the Third, and dread tyrants of their ill
are cited as archetypes of William McKinley and other expan-
sionists. Much turgid rhetoric bemoans the metamorphosis ol
our eagle into a bird of prey. Little of the rhymed invectiv<
1 can be dignified with the name of poetry. Perhaps the best line*
are Richard Le Gallienne's "Cry of the Little Peoples," whicl
has an attractive rhythm and an occasional genuinely poeti<
line. Considering that the issue is one on which wise men have
held with both sides, the sanest utterance in the volume is thai
of Frances Bartlett's " Peace " :

" May our compassion with our strength increase,
And Might and Justice rule with equal powers ;
So shall the fever of these restless hours
That mark the century's death be calmed and cease.
Thou who our sires' prayers answered, answer ours,
And give us peace. Jehovah, give thou peace ! "

A volume of unusual interest and value is a transla-
tion of the Acts of St. Ignatius,f or the autobiographical

* Liberty Poems. Boston : James West Company.

*\The Testament of Ignatius Loyola. Translated by E. M. .Rix ; with preface by George
Tyrrell, SJ. St. Louis : B. Herder.

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 703

narrative dictated by him to Father Gonzales. Not to delay
on the great value of this first and most authentic of all
records of the saint, we owe our congratulations to the editors
of the Herder publication, Fathers Tyrrell and Thurston, both
too well known by their great merit to profit by any commen-
dation of ours. Father Tyrrell's preface, epilogue, and notes
are quite worthy of being published in a separate volume, so
remarkable are they for originality, keenness of judgment, and
deep critical insight into the subject of the biography. No
one who would make himself familiar with the character of this
great saint can afford to be ignorant of Father Tyrrell's
reading of the main events in the life of Ignatius. And the
volume may be considered well worth the purchasing if for this
reason alone. Strangely enough, Benzigers have just issued
another translation of the very same "Acts of St. Ignatius.''
While very charmingly gotten up and cleverly edited by the
well known Father O'Conor, S.J., this Benziger publication is
without Father Tyrrell's notes, a lack to which we are not at
all reconciled by the handsome binding and the real beauty of
the illustrations.

One not too common merit must be allowed to Mrs.
Meynell's new volume* it is what it purports to be. The
well-arranged alternation of brief suggestive analysis with
carefully chosen quotation will make her essay of real value
as a hand- book to the student of Ruskin. The writer's work
has not been that of a slavish copyist, as is sometimes the
case in so called " studies," but a sympathetic and intelligent
appreciation of her subject has given birth to a timely and
serviceable expression of his claims on her admiration. The
personal aspect is subdued, or rather eliminated, and attention
is confined exclusively to the consideration of Ruskin's message
to the world at large. His teaching is here voiced in an artistic
and discriminating presentation of the theories and principles
magnified by him.

If any unfavorable criticism of Mrs. Meynell's work were to
be advanced it might be in regard to her language. Perhaps
one is prejudiced, or at least made suspicious, by knowledge of
her dominant mental characteristics ; at any rate it seems un-
deniable that a less " correct " and more straightforward style
would be an improvement in the present instance. Sentences
that violate no rule are good, but sentences easily and perfectly
understood may be better.

* John Ruskin. By Mrs. Meynell. New York : Dodd, Mead & Co.

704 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

The simple little story* of the Jewish slave- maiden whose
brother and master were healed by the prophet Elisha will
help to interest the children in Bible history. Quite unpre-
tentious and straightforward, the story should please the little
ones all the more as being something of a novelty among the
Catholic stories in common circulation. The binding is tasteful
and convenient.

Mr. Dill's book \ may well be described as a volume of
fascinating interest. It presents us with an unusual combina-
tion of vivid picture-making and scholarly information. Among
the writer's commendable characteristics is his power of dis-
posing subject-matter in most effective proportion. He treats,
for instance, such telling figures as Jerome and Symmachus in
true artistic fashion, cleverly and entertainingly bringing out
in them just what is most serviceable for the creation of a
strong and broad impression on the reader. Artistic in this
sense the author certainly is ; still it is sometimes at the cost
of presenting his own conceptions so forcibly as to run risks
of becoming too subjective for the demands of thorough
scholarship. There is a strong tinge of theorizing here and
there in his pages. Again, it might be suggested that a truly
historical point of view would have prevented his introducing
into a sketch of ancient Rome indications of his opinion on
such questions as the credibility of the Lourdes miracles.

The volume is sure to be well favored by the intelligent
reader in fact has already met with marked success. Not its
least merit lies in the fact that it will serve to introduce the
aspiring student to the original and classical works on the sub-
jects treated in its pages.

Oliver Ditson's Music Review \ is an interesting pamphlet
of news in the musical world. The first pages of the summer
number are devoted to Donatello's picture of St. Cecilia and
an account of recent archaeological researches which claim to
have found the exact room wherein the hallowed patron of
melody and harmony suffered martyrdom. Departments of the
Review are devoted to musical notes, specimen phrases of new
vocal and instrumental publications, gossip about the concert

* The Little Maid of Israel. By Emma Howard Dwight. St. Louis : B. Herder.

t Roman Society in the Last Century of the Western Empire. By Samuel Dill. Second
edition. New York : Macmillan Company.

\ Music Review : A Review of music and musical literature. Published monthly by
Oliver Ditson Company, Boston.

i QOO.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 705

stage, and quotations from the masters apropos of their art,
Weber being the spokesman in the present number. Accom-
panying the review are notices of recently issued Catholic
choir music ; an Ave Maria by Ernest D'Amico, a Salve Re-
gina by Dudley Buck, and James Rogers' Veni Creator are
among the most pleasing.

" I will put a girdle round the world in forty minutes,"
quotes the modern Puck, the publisher, and all the valuable
ideas floating round the globe shall be fettered into all lan-
guages and enclosed between elegant bindings for the pleasure
and profit of all nations.

The translation of Currita, Countess of Albornoz* retains the
Spanish flavor ; the prologue is a gem of ethics, and a deep
and tender warning of the grave evils at work in Madrid
society. This novel is written by a Jesuit, Father Luis Coloma,
for the Spanish Messenger of the Sacred Hearty which is read
by all classes in Spain. " And if by chance you marvel who I
am, that I enter with so much frankness on such dangerous
ground, you must remember that, although I seem to be a
novelist, I am only a missionary ; for far superior to

the charity which consists in giving is that which consists in
understanding and supporting human weaknesses. It is that
which makes me take my pen to write for them, although at
the risk of hearing that the sacerdotal character is lowered
by writing such trivial things. As if charity could ever lower
itself, no matter how much it stoops."

It is in this beautiful spirit that the writer approaches the
worldlings of Madrid society while sparing their vices no scath-
ing or cynical rebuke.

Events of the troubled times of the Spanish Revolution of
'68 give the reality of history to this novel and let us into
much information about the schemes and dreams of the Carl-
ists, and the intrigues of society women to restore the mon-
archy. Currita, the heroine, reminds one of Ouida's characters,
but with this palliative : " A bad Spanish woman is rarely im-
pious. In the depths of her heart she always believes and
fears." The admirable traits of the Catholic society woman
of the noblest blood of Spain are set in effective contrast to
the other, and we are assured, with fine reasoning and many a
proverb which frequently lights up this mellifluous language,
that good will ever triumph over evil. There are portrayed

* Currita^ Countess of Albornoz. A novel of Madrid society. By Luis Coloma. Trans-
lated by Estelle Huyck Attwell. Boston : Little, Brown & Co.
VOL. LXXI. 45

706 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

graphically the sighs of the profligate and the tears of the
penitent ; humor, dignified yet playful, enlivens the book ; the
idle dandy is described "who is made up of thirty-two false
articles," and the Diogenes of society who tells his friends,
" No one should boast of his illustrious race who should be a
melon and is only a squash."

Every Catholic should read this book, not only to see ho
good a novelist a priest can be but to learn with what fervo
and sincerity our religion is practised by the much-misrepre-
sented Spaniard. One artistically written chapter describes
genuine death-bed repentance, that of Diogenes the cynic, on
'of that band who often cherish the truth more dearly than the
discreet who are ever respecting the prevailing prejudices. It
is an interesting novel, with many texts supposed mistakenly
to ornament the pulpit but which are needed in drawing
rooms, where the voice from the former may not penetrate,,
but where a good novel may always obtain easy access.

It is good to have at times of Holy Communion a manu
of suggestive thoughts. Father Gracian's Sanctuary Medit
tions* are the best thoughts of a devout and prayerful soul.
They breathe the spirit of a tender piety and a very warm de-
votion to the Blessed Sacrament. Father Gracian was among
the early Jesuits, brought up in Spain in the golden age of
its devotional life. He was almost a contemporary of St.
Teresa and St. John of the Cross, and was the heir of the
spirit % of piety that was the best flowering of that time o
holy men and women.

There seems to be a constant demand for sermon literature
So inadequate are the modern-day sermonizers to meet th
demand that we must go back to the noted preachers of th
last century. Father Fabri had a great reputation in his day
and his large volume of Conciones f has been a treasury o
strong and practical pulpit thought.

One special merit of these sermons is their suggestivenes
It is rarely possible for any one to preach the sermon of an
other. It is like wearing another's clothes. They never fi
But a good sermon is of value to another only inasmuch as i
awakens trains of thoughts or suggests practical ideas. Thes

* Sanctuary Meditations for Priests and frequent Communicants ; serving as a prepara-
tion for, at the time of, and thanksgiving after receiving the Holy Eucharist. Translated
from the original Spanish of Father Baltasar Gracian, S.J. (1669), by Mariana Monteiro.
New York : Benziger Brothers.

\Fabri Conciones : Sermons of Rev. M. Fabri, SJ. Translated from the Latin by R
M. J. Conway. New York and San Francisco: Christian Press Association Publishing-
Company.

i goo.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 707

sermons of Father Fabri are stripped of any unnecessary ver-
biage, and are terse, pointed, and direct in their statements,
so that one easily detects the master hand in their construc-
tion. There is also a plentiful use of Sacred Scripture, and
this is not the least merit of them. There is about the words
of Sacred Writ a sacramental value, and an apt allusion or a
fresh application of a well-known passage carries conviction to
the mind and compunction to the heart far better than the
same truth when clothed in ordinary language or enforced by
commonplace illustration. There is a quaintness, too, about
the comparisons which readily catches the ear ; for example,
speaking of the necessity of a little earnestness in working out
one's salvation, he says that ' if horses, though tired, begin to
run as they near the stable, should not Christian men rise
from their sleep and gain new strength, running more swiftly
to blessedness the nearer they come to it?" The translation is
so well done that it adds an additional charm to the discourses.

There comes to the review table a biographical sketch * of
Marie Rosalie Cardon Jette" (in religion Mother de la Nativite"),
and an account of a community which to-day, after fifty-two
years' existence, stands as one of America's noblest institutions
one of those consecrated bands of women who, faithfully
putting their creed into their deed, worthily represent the
Church of Christ. The biography of Madame Jett is a nar-
rative of consecutive charitable ministrations from her earliest
years, through her married life, and her final career as the
foundress and superior of the Sisters of Misericorde.

This order, which gradually grew around the nucleus of
Mother de la Nativity's strong and holy personality, is an illus-
tration of St. Augustine's motto : " Do you aspire to become
great ? Then begin by being little. Do you wish to raise a
great and noble edifice? Then let your first care be the solid
foundation of humility?" Interesting and edifying is the rela-
tion of the difficulties endured and overcome for the upbuild-
ing of this great society, which, with its maternity hospitals,
infant asylums, and houses for Magdalens, has begun to ramify
through the country, from Montreal, where it was founded, to
New York and many other places as well.

The purpose of the order has been the following of Christ
in his particular mercy to the woman of Samaria, and to her
whose sins were forgiven " quia multum amavit." Like the
Supreme Ideal, the nuns have outstretched the mantle of their

* Mother de la Nativitf, and the origin of the Community of the Sisters of Misericorde.
Montreal : Printing-office of the Institution of Deaf Mutes.

7o8 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

charity to the unfortunates who have never known Catholic
teaching; Protestants as well as Catholics have found harbor,
protection, and, best of all, encouragement to better lives,
within the institution's compassionate and discreet environment.

The story of the conversion of the aborigines to Christian-
ity during the eighteenth century by the Jesuit missionaries*
reads like a wonderful romance. Before the Indians were con-
taminated by the presence of the frontiersman the missionaries
had gathered them into villages, taught them the arts of
husbandry, as well as to read and to write, while the precepts
of the Sermon on the Mount were instilled into their hearts.
It is good to keep this story before the minds of the present
generation. The men who did this work were not self-seekers,
nor had they any personal ambitions to gratify.

" Not the dark glory of the woods to tame,
Laying the cedars like constables low,
But to spread tidings of all holy things,
Gladdening men's souls as with the morning's wings."

Father Marest, writing from the Illinois country April 29,
1699, gives the details of his life in the following passage :

u Every day, before sunrise, we say Mass for the convenience
of our Christians, who go from it to their work. The savages
chant the prayers, or recite them together during Mass, after
which we disperse in different directions to teach the children
the catechism ; and then we have to visit the sick. On our
return, we always find several savages who come to consult us
on various matters. In the afternoon, three times a week,
there is general catechism for all the people. From that we
go through the cabins to strengthen the Christians, and en-
deavor to win some idolater. These visits are very useful, and
I notice that the missionary never fails to effect some fresh
conquest, or to bring back some strayed sheep. The visits are
paid one day in one quarter, and on the morrow in another;
for it is absolutely impossible to go through all the cabins in
one day.

" When we return to the house, we find it filled with our
fervent Christians, who come to receive instruction or to con-
fess. It is generally at this time that I explain the pictures of
the Old and of the New Testament. Pictures of this kind
produce an impression upon the savage's mind, and greatly
assist him in remembering what we tell him. Then the public
prayers are said, which all attend ; and they are followed by

* The Jesuit Relations and Allied Documents. Travels and Explorations of the /esuft
Missionaries in New France^ 76/0-7797. The original French, Latin, and Italian Texts, with
English Translations and Notes. Illustrated by Portraits, Maps, and Facsimiles. Edited by
ReuBen Gold Thwaites, Secretary of the State Historical Society of Wisconsin. Vol. Ixv.
Lower Canada, Mississippi Valley, 1696-1702. Cleveland : The Burrows Brothers Co.

i. IXV.

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 709

a half hour's instruction. After leaving the church, many wish
to speak to us in private ; and the night is frequently far ad-
vanced before we can satisfy every one. This is what we do
every day. Saturdays and Sundays are completely occupied in
hearing confessions. Thus a missionary is free only at night ;
and even that time is often taken to teach some of the peo-
ple to sing the hymns."

i. ARCHBISHOP IRELAND'S LA FAYETTE ADDRESS.*
Not the least remarkable thing about this address of Arch-
bishop Ireland is the vigorous way in which he stands for de-
mocracy and democratic institutions, and this from a European
platform and practically speaking to the imperialistic minds of
the old world. In one of his most striking passages he says
that "the creation of the Republic of the United States was
the inauguration of a new era in the life of the human race
the era of the rights of manhood and of citizenship, and of
the rights of the people. Such is the true meanirig of the
American Revolution, the full significance of the work done in
America by La Fayette and France. This is the age of the
people. Every decade will mark a new advance in the tri-
umphant march of democracy. Political movements do not go
backward ; the people do not abandon except under duress,
and then only for a time, rights of which they were once pos-
sessed, or the power which they once wielded to maintain and
enlarge those rights. To seek for arguments against democracy
in its apparent perils is a waste of time. The part of true
statesmanship is to study the perils, such as they may be, and
take measures to avert them. The progress of the democracy
cannot be stayed. He who would rule must rule through the
people, through the individual men who constitute the people.
To obtain results in the civil and political world he must go to
the individual, enlighten his mind, form his conscience, and thus
enlist his sympathies and win his intelligent co-operation. He
who does this will succeed ; he who uses other methods will fail."
These words must have been read with not a few raising
of eyebrows, and probably a little shrinking at the heart,
among the monarchy-loving Catholics of France ; and if they
were telegraphed across to Germany and beyond to the Czar,
the "two young despots," as Gladstone styled them, "who
reign by divine right," must have felt a chill at the announcement
of these democratic facts in the ancient halls of Imperialism.

* America and France. An Address delivered at the Unveiling of the Statue of General
La Fayette in Paris, July 4, 1900. By Most Rev. John Ireland, D.D. The Columbus Press,
120 West 6oth St., New York.

7io TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.,

The entire address was a masterly effort from beginning
to end. It recalled the magnanimous services of La Fayette
and, through him, of France in the days of national peril.
The present generation has been facile to forget the helpful-
neSs of France. It is undoubtedly true, and it cannot be re-
peated too often, that were it not for the assistance rendered
in the dark days before and after the winter of Valley Forge
we would be to-day in the position of the enslaved and sub-
jugated Boers. That we possess our national independence,
that the principles of civil and political liberty for which the
American Constitution stands have triumphed, is largely due
to the efforts of La Fayette. It was a very wise suggestion
to place the project of erecting this statue among the children
of the country, that they by their contributions might express
the century-long gratitude of the American people for the
services rendered by La Fayette. There has been too much
clamoring for the Anglo-American alliance and a repudiation
of our bonds of friendship with other nations. Because we
have become a world-power there is no reason why we should
enter into any of the European entanglements or take sides
in their political quarrels. It was good to see that the Presi-
dent of the French Republic appreciated the full significance
of the event and rose to the occasion. It had been arranged
that the Minister of Foreign Affairs, M. Delcass, should pre-
side ; but when Archbishop Ireland came with a personal letter
from President McKinley, saying that the event is one of
national importance and that he the Archbishop was selected
because he better than any one else could voice the love and
gratitude of the American people for France, President Loubet
changed the arrangements, and went himself to personally pre-
side and accept from the United States the official token that
would cement the bonds of amity between the two nations.
The whole affair is of the deepest historical significance, and
its relation to our international- affairs of the highest importance.

The pamphlet containing the address in its entirety, to-
gether with a short narrative of the unveiling of the statue in
Paris, has been published by the Columbus Press, 120 West
6oth Street, New York.

2. EDUCATION AND THE FUTURE OF RELIGION.*
There is no publisher's name on this pamphlet, and the

* Education and the Future of Religion. A sermon preached in the Church of the Gesu
in Rome, March 21, 1900, for the benefit of a free night-school. By Right Rev. J. L.
Spalding, D.D.

1900.] TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 711

more 's the pity, for it should receive the- widest dissemination
possible. It is the cream of the many splendid things Bishop
Spalding has given to the literary and educational world.
Very few there are who seem to get at the real nature of things
like the scholarly bishop. His thoughts are penetrating and
his words are incisive, and in the briefest statement he will lay
open a rich vein of thought. His ability is that of a skilful
surgeon who has a most intimate knowledge of the lay of the
muscles and the location of the arteries, and with one incision
of the scalpel will expose to view the inner construction of
the body. The bishop is so deep in his thinking and so choice
in his words and so skilful in his statements that his language
compels conviction. One seems while reading his eloquent
passages to be so in the grasp of a master mind that he yields
his convictions to the truths as they are enunciated.

There is nothing conventional about either the bishop's
style or mode of thought. Combined with a fearlessness of
statement there is a breadth of view and a grasp of subject-
matter that is refreshing as well as it is compelling. His
theme is the need of the widest and broadest culture, and
that it is in accord with the divine plan to command all the
resources of the heavens above or the earth beneath and make
them contribute to this culture. He would place no bounds to
it on any side. He would make it the most precious heritage
of woman as well as of man. He says : " If we are to have a
race of enlightened, noble, and brave men, we must give to
woman the best education it is possible for her to receive.
She has the same right as man to become all that she may be,
to know whatever may be known, and to do whatever is fair
and just and good. In souls there is no sex. If we leave half
the race in ignorance, how shall we hope to lift the other half
into the light of truth and love ? Let woman's mental power
increase, let her influence grow, and more and more she will
stand by the side of man as a helper in all his struggles to
make the will of God prevail. From the time the Virgin
Mother held the Infant Saviour in her arms to this hour
woman has been the great lover of Christ and the unwearying
helper of his little ones, and the more we strengthen and
illumine her, the more we add to her sublime faith and de-
votion the power of knowledge and culture, the more effi-
caciously shall she work to purify life, to make justice, temper-
ance, chastity, and love prevail. She is more unselfish, more
capable of enthusiasm for spiritual ends ; she has more

712 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Aug.

sympathy with what is beautiful, noble, and God-like than man ;
and the more her knowledge increases the more shall she be-
come a heavenly force to help spread God's kingdom on earth.
Doubtless our failure to win the hearts of all men is due in no
slight degree to our indifference to the education of women."

It seems to be eminently fitting that such words as these
should be uttered from the pulpit of the great central church
of the Jesuits in the city of Rome.

It would be a delightful task to go through this masterly
discourse and cull some of its most beautiful thoughts. The
difficulty would be in making the selection. The bishop has such
an epigrammatic way of making his statements that each and
every truth is like a cut jewel. "If the church is to live and
prosper in the modern world, Catholics must have not only
freedom to learn but also freedom to teach." Again, he says :
" All who have striven and who strive to educate the whole
people, to bring opportunity of a freer and more human life
to all, have been and are, whether intentionally or not, workers
in the cause of Christ for the salvation of men."

Speaking of the necessity of running with the best in the
educational world, he says: "If we isolate ourselves and fall
out of the highest intellectual and moral life of the world
around us, we shall fatally drift into a position of inferiority
and lose the power to make ourselves heard and understood."
Again, he says that Christ was the world's first gentleman, and
therefore his priests should place no limit to either their love
for learning nor any bounds to their zeal in acquiring the best
culture. " If we build majestic temples, if we construct our
altars of costly marbles, if our sacred vessels and priestly vest-
ments are made of gold and silk and studded with precious
stones, why shall not they who offer sacrifice and who preach
the Gospel be required to be clean and decorous, fair and
gracious?"

He pleads for liberty, and has no sympathy with the re-
fractaire who condemns the progressive spirit of the age. " To
forbid men to think along whatever line is to place one's self
in opposition to the deepest and most invincible tendency of
the civilized world. Were it possible to compel obedience
from Catholics in matters of this kind, the result would be a
hardening and a sinking of our whole religious life."

With but this little taste of some of the good things in
this masterly oration, we must send the reader to the Bishop
himself for the rest.

THE " Yellow evil " menaces the Christian
civilization of the world. The reports at this
writing have been so conflicting that one scarcely
knows what to believe. Anyhow, enough has come to us out
from the darkness to make us realize the enormity of the
impending evil.

There are over a million Catholic Christians in China, and
if the insurrection of the Boxers becomes an unrestrained re-
bellion they will be slaughtered by the thousands. Father
Gaillard, S.J., writes from Pekin in April last ; his letter is
published in the Etudes, saying that the Boxers are capa-
ble of anything in the way of devastation. Their leaders
work them into a frenzy of hate, and persuade them that even
if they die in the blessed work of killing the foreigner they
will rise again the seventh day. In the strength of this fanati-
cism they are equal to any amount of slaughtering.

Bishop McFaul, in his allusion to the activity of Catholics
in political matters, made it very plain that he did not advo-
cate or even suggest the creation of a Catholic party. The
movement on foot among Catholic societies to form a federa*
tion is merely an effort to get together not for political pur-
poses, but it is simply an announcement of our strength, so
that there may be some recognition made of it. We recognize
that there should not be any discrimination before the law on
account of religious beliefs. Catholic as well as non Catholic
should have equal opportunities and not suffer any disability
for conscience' sake. If the principles of civil and political
liberty for which the American Constitution stands are not
strong enough to guarantee an equal standing before the law,
then it is good to get at it some other way. It is certainly
not an unconstitutional thing to secure our constitutional
rights by every, legitimate means placed at our disposal.

The recent death of Dr. Falk, who, as Bismarck's puppet, gave
his name to the anti-Catholic laws which prevailed in Germany

714 EDITORIAL NOTES. [Aug.,

twenty-five years, recalls an interesting chapter in the ecclesiasti-
cal history of modern times. Bismarck had been eminently suc-
cessful in his war against France, and, flushed with his success, he
determined to destroy any influence that seemed to curtail his
absolute sovereignty. The dogma of the papal infallibility had
been recently proclaimed, and all Europe was ringing* with the
aggressions of the spiritual power and its attacks on the
sovereignty of the state. The wisest statesmen misunderstood
the purport of the dogma. Gladstone, in England, claimed
that Catholics could not be loyal to England and at the
same time owe any fealty to Rome. This prevailing senti-
ment, together with the desire to exercise unrestrained
authority within the newly established German Empire, led
Bismarck to enact a series of most tyrannical laws against
the Catholics of Germany. Fines, imprisonments, deposi-
tions from ecclesiastical charges, as well as expulsion from
the country, were the order of the day. For many years
this policy prevailed, until finally, seeing that it was useless to
fight against that deeply rooted adherence to their religion
which the German Catholics possessed, the Falk Laws were
repealed. The net result of the persecution was to deepen
and intensify the loyalty of the German Catholics to their
faith. Long years of peace, together with a prevailing
atmosphere of infidelity in the universities and the gymnasia,
were not wholesome for the spirit of religion in Germany.
The church was not making any notable progress there until
Bismarck began to stir up the slumbering embers, and by his
cruel enactments he fanned into a flame the languishing religious
spirit among the Germans, and not a little of the vehement,
aggressive spirit possessed by the Germans of this generation
is due to the persecutions of the Kulturkampf. The church in
Germany is enriched in spirit, is more vigorous in its ecclesias-
tical life, has given many beautiful examples of the spirit of
martyrdom, to their fellow-Catholics, while Bismarck was
obliged to come down from his seat of arrogance and go to
Canossa, and Dr. Paul Falk dies in obscurity, scarcely noticed
by short paragraphs in the daily 'press.

1900.] A SrojiY FROM INDIA. 715

A STORY FROM INDIA.

A CORRESPONDENT, Rev. W. G. Hood, missionary apostolic
in Southern India, sends us the following account of the rav-
ages and consequent misery and destruction wrought by the
famine in India. The terrible drama of the world's activities
is being enacted in another arena, and very little attention has
been given to the direful scenes in the famine districts. It
does seem inexplicable that on the morrow of the Peace Con-
gress hundreds of millions of dollars should be spent by the
foremost Christian nations in savage butchery 'of their fellow-
Christians, while the despairing cries of poor wretches are
being hushed in the agonies of starvation. If but a moiety of
this vast sum was diverted to the relief of misery or to the
drying the tears of sorrow, how much better the world would
be! We may well cry out, "How long, O God, how long?"
When are these afflictions to cease from tormenting Thy an-
guished and stricken creatures?

" On the 4th instant I visited Dohad, a large native town about one hun-
dred miles east of Anand, in Gujerat. I am somewhat at a loss to know how
to begin anything like a perfect description of this visit. On reaching the sta-
tion I was informed by the station-master that large numbers of the people that
had been employed on government relief works there had been, two days before,
removed to another place about twenty-five miles distant. 'But, 'said he, ' if
you wish to see something of the work of the famine you have only to step down
there by our first signal, and you will see the bodies of two persons who starved
to death there two days ago.' He deputed a porter to act as guide through the
native city, where we went first. Such sights met our eyes ! We had never
thought that such a state of affairs ever existed in India ! On every hand were
the dead and dying. Sometimes it was an aged person, sometimes a youth or
an infant. The sun beat down almost unbearably. The wind carried the sand
in clouds. There was scarcely any noise, though there were many people. They
sat or lay quietly in groups of from five to fifty beneath the trees by the road-
side. Often one had fallen alone, and was left there to die as he had fallen.
The living, the dying, and the dead were all together. If one died in the centre
of a group no one attempted to remove the body. Why should they? All have
sat or lain down there to die, and one by one they meet death they all wait for
it. They are hopeless, and they say there is no one who will give, so they
resign themselves to their awful fate.

" Passing on through the city about one mile, we came to its eastern
boundary. In the bottom of the dry river-bed and on its banks were scores of
the dead bodies of persons who had starved to death. In many parts of the

7i 6 A STORY FROM INDIA. [Aug.,

city dead bodies were also to be found. At one place lay the body of a woman
who died two days before. Still they have what they call a municipality at
Dohad. But its members do not care. The heartlessness of those who are
within a stone's throw of the sufferers, and who could help if they would, is
very manifest. Many we found dying of thirst within half a minute's walk of
the door of some rich Mohammedan or high-caste Hindu who, until almost
forced to it, would not turn a hand to alleviate the sufferings of the dying.

" It was dreadful to look upon the faces of the small children who had starved
to death. Marks of infant beauty, intermingled with those indicative of a pain-
ful death, were traceable. What deaths they have met ! And near them, on
every side, sat others enduring the same terrible suffering and awaiting the same
terrible end. Is any one responsible, and will any one have to answer and say
why it was permitted to be so ? The missionaries are doing much, and would
do more if they had the means.

" As we walked about those quiet streets we saw deserted homes, sad faces,
and dead bodies so many that had lain so long in the streets and by-ways that
we had to breathe through a well-wadded handkerchief. We longed to be able
to picture the sufferings of these people to those who have laid by of their
wealth, not for one rainy day, but for thousands of them. One sight would be
sufficient to open the long closed purse, and thousands would pour out blessing
on the givers.

" Lying in the midst of one of these groups was the fresh carcase of a child.
We concluded that the flesh had been eaten from it by the jackals. We saw
many carcases, but the peculiar situation of this one brought to our mind what
sort of nights the living-dying people must pass in battling with these hungry
scavengers. We saw many who were almost too weak to raise a hand, and who,
we are sure, could not defend themselves in the event of an attack by a jackal
or hungry dog. We saw a dog feasting on the body of a woman. What must
be the state of the minds of these people who sit day after day in sight of these
awful scenes, knowing full well that they are to be done away with in the very
same manner ? They are not without this knowledge, but they are without the
life and strength to act as we would think they would. One of the bravest acts
we witnessed was that of a little girl of about seven years of age, attempting the
care of her two little brothers after the mother had given up hope and lain down
near them to die. She was feeding a fire which burned beneath a broken pot
in which simmered the almost rotten bones and feet of a dead animal.

" The scene was the most heart-rending we ever witnessed. It cannot be
painted too black. No account we have ever read of any famine would picture
the state of affairs at Dohad." Times.

NOTE. THE CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE will transmit any funds that
may be entrusted to it for the relief of the famine sufferers.

1900.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 717

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

THE International Catholic Truth Society has filed a certificate of incorpora-
tion in the office of the Secretary of State at Albany, N. Y. Its principal
office and place of business is at 225 Sixth Avenue, Brooklyn, and its incorpor-
ators are : Rev. W. F. McGinnis, D.D., Rev. Thomas Taaffe, William J. Carr,
Andrew Devine, and Francis C. Keenan, of Brooklyn ; Rev. Henry Brann, D.D.,
of Manhattan ; Rev. Paul Griffith, Washington, D. C.; John H. Farrell, Albany,
N. Y.; Rev. Lucien Johnston, Baltimore, Md.

Among the Board of Directors are representatives from the principal cities
of the United States and from Quebec, Ottawa, and Montreal.

One of the incorporators of the new society, in speaking of its aims and
what it intended to accomplish, stated that the society was organized in Brook-
lyn about a year ago by Rev. Dr. W. F. McGinnis, under the title Metropolitan
Truth Society, and it has already done an extensive work on the lines of its
organization. So broad has been its influence and so well has it been received
by the hierarchy, the clergy, and the laity that it was deemed wise by its pro-
jectors to broaden its scope by giving it an international character. Its
correspondence has already extended all over this country and Canada, as
well as to Europe and South America, and it has secured not only the approval
of the Papal Delegate, Monseigneur Martinelli, and most of the archbishops and
bishops of the country, but it has also received the Papal benediction from Pope
Leo XIII. Bishop Charles E. McDonnell, of the diocese of Brooklyn, has also
given the society his approbation and has accepted the position of honorary
president.

The objects of the society are simply to make known the truths that the
Catholic Church teaches and believes, to enlighten those who honestly differ
with us, to correct erroneous statements as to Catholic belief and practices, to
refute calumnies, and to do all this in such a way as to appeal directly to fair-
minded and intelligent Protestants. There is a large volume of anti-Catholic
literature circulated throughout the country which is unfair and misleading,
and while it is not our intention to indulge in the bitterness of controversy, we
intend to reply to these attacks upon the church systematically and to defend
the cause of the church wherever it is unjustly assailed. One of the objects of
the society is to assuage the bitterness that already exists, and to present Catho-
lic doctrines in a fair light and to ask for them an impartial hearing. As a
result of the past year's work there is already a better feeling on the part of
those creeds whose members have heretofore regarded the Catholic Church
with special hostility, and the only reason for this is that the Catholic position
has been entirely misunderstood. The society has accomplished much in this
particular, and with a wider field its promoters hope to do much more.
* * *

The Rev. Father Rutten, a Belgian, studied with success at Louvain Uni-
versity and became a lector in theology and a licentiate in the social sciences.
But it occurred to him that everything was not to be learnt from books that
there are even better means of information with regard to social difficulties.

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Aug.,

So, by permission, he donned a blouse, bought a pickaxe, and got a job as a
miner. With other miners he went deep into the bowels of the earth and re-
mained there for several months, earning his daily pittance by the sweat of his
brow and eating a crust heartily with his companions at meal-times. He chatted
with them a great deal, and carefully studied their views on labor problems.
His inquiries as to their thoughts on strikes were frequent and searching, and
the answers received he committed to paper. Then, having gained the knowl-
edge that he sought, he resumed the clerical garb and wrote an elaborate work.
It was a thesis for the diploma of doctorate in science, and the Belgian jour-
nals now announce that he has gained his object with distinction. He certainly
ought to be able to give a sound opinion on the wages question.
* * *

The fifth and sixth volumes of the English translation of Dr. Pastor's
History of the Popes from the close of the Middle Ages furnish a most valuable
contribution to this branch of church history. Dr. Pastor's untiring industry in
seeking and sifting evidence, his skill in selecting and arranging it, his strict
impartiality, the admirable balance of his judgment, have won him recognition
as a philosophic historian in the highest and truest sense. And in no period of
ecclesiastical history were a firmer hand, a cooler mind, and a deeper examina-
tion of interacting issues required than in the fascinating but difficult times be-
tween the election of Innocent VIII. and the death of Julius II. Its history has
been so very much composed that decomposition of a great part of the truth
had largely set in. The corruption of individuals, prominent figures, their
strange and startling crimes, had hastily or intentionally been generalized int<
types of the age. Humanist scholarship admirable in itself had been
blazoned to the exclusion of all other intellectual endeavors. But Dr. Pastor,
full of thought for the true meaning of history, has given it to us not only with
its lights and shadows, but with the lights and the shadows set in their just pro-
portions and assessed at their real value. Of how finely faith and its practices en-
tered into the daily life, both individual and associated, of Italy during the Re-
naissance, fervor in jubilees, pilgrimages, confraternities nay, the saints \vho
leavened the earth then he gives documentary evidence. But, even more impor-
tant, Dr. Pastor brings out once more the fact that the Renaissance, profoundly
not exclusively apprehended, was largely a Catholic and Christian movement.
Innocent VIII. was not only a patron of art and scholarship, but a laborer for a ne^
crusade a supporter of the Florentine Confraternity of the Misericordia, and ai
encourager of Rosary sodalities by special indulgences. And if of Alexander VI.
Dr. Pastor will nothing extenuate, neither will he set down aught in malice. He
proves him not only to have been a patron of art but the sustainer and cherish<
of the regular orders, vindicating the rights of the church against secular en-
croachment, promoting devotion to St. Anne and Our Lady, propagating the
faith both in Greenland and in the newly discovered parts of America. And
Julius II., great statesman and ruler of men, was no less diligent in the cele-
bration of the divine mysteries and in the government of the church. Check-
ing abuses, he guarded the purity of the faith, laying the foundation of a real
reform, and promoted the evangelization of Africa and America. True, he
fought rather as a warrior than a pontiff ; but it was for the church, her rights,
her liberties; never for himself or his family. In fact Dr. Pastor brings out th<
truth of Gregorovius' dictum that Julius II. was the greatest pope since Inm
cent .III,

1900.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 719

Trinity College, America's Catholic College forthe higher education of
women, has issued its college calendar for 1900-1901. The college exercises
begin Tuesday, November 6, at 10 A. M. On the following Saturday a -Mass
will be celebrated for the founders of the college, and this Mass for the founders,
living and dead, will be celebrated every Saturday. Monday, November 12, has
been selected for the Mass of the Holy Ghost, and on the following Thursday a
Mass for the students will be^celebrated. The Feast of the Presentation, No-
vember 21, will be observed as the patronal feast of the institution. The Christ-
mas vacation begins December 21, and college exercises will be resumed De-
cember 27. A Mass for benefactors will be celebrated January 26, 1901. The
semester examinations begin the following Monday, and the second semester
begins February 5. The following Thursday, February 7, the spiritual retreat
for the students begins. The Easter vacation will begin April 2, and the college
exercises will be resumed April 9. Saturday, May 4, will be Founders' Day,
and Monday, May 27, semester examinations begin. June 5 will be commence-
ment day.

Trinity College has for its purpose the higher education of women under
the auspices of the Catholic Church. As a first step toward the attainment of
this end, its courses of study are planned according to the best standards of our
American educational system. It is proposed that every facility shall be offeied
the students of Trinity College to fit themselves for graduate work. As has
been announced, only students for the freshmen class and special students of
first year, will be received in 1900-1901. When the college is developed, there
will be the usual classification of students that is found in all higher colleges :
graduate students, undergraduate students, special students, and hearers.

Graduate students will be those who, having taken their first degree at
Trinity College, or some college of good standing, wish to pursue the higher
courses offered by the college.

Undergraduate students are those who have complied with the established
admission conditions, and who are pursuing the courses leading to the degrees
of bachelor of arts and bachelor of science. They are divided into the tradi-
tional college classes.

Special students are those \\iho do not wish to study for a degree. They
must pass the prescribed entrance examination. With the consent of their in-
structors they may receive certificates on the completion of their course of study.

Hearers are persons who follow some of the courses of the college by con-
cession of the faculty. Although they are not required to pass the entrance ex-
amination, they must give proof that they are able as well as willing to profit
by collegiate instruction. They must bring close application to the courses they
elect ; their admission to examinations and laboratory exercises depends on the
judgment of the instructors, and at any time their privileges may be withdrawn.
Resident hearers will not be received in 1900-1901.

The tuition of all students is $100 a year. The charge for board and
two furnished rooms is $300 a year. Dinner and luncheon to non-resident
students $100 a year.

Scholarships are endowments the annual interest of which will be given by
the college to deserving students. In general the conditions governing these
scholarships are laid down by the founders. The scholarships endowed by the
Sisters of Notre Dame of Namur will be bestowed on those candidates whose
personality and moral worth, united to their ability to pass the entrance ex-

720 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Aug., 1900.]

animations, will reflect honor upon the college. These scholarships, some of
which cover tuition and residence, others tuition only, are granted for four years
to undergraduate students; for two years to special students. The cost of
books and laboratory supplies must be borne by the holders of scholarships.

It is highly desirable that in the academies of the country there should be
uniformity as to the courses of study and requirements for graduation. In view
of the differences that actually exist, and in order that the ability of each ap-
plicant may be fairly tested at the beginning of her college course, all candidates
for admission must take the entrance examination.

Certificates will be given to those students also who pass the entrance ex-
aminations simply as a test. In 1901 the examinations will be held June 3, 4, 5,
and 6, at Trinity College ; also in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore,
New Orleans, St. Louis, Cincinnati, Columbus, Pittsburg, Chicago, Dubuque,
San Jose, San Francisco, and Montreal. There is a fee of $5 for examinations
taken at places other than Trinity College.

Blank forms of application may be obtained at any time from the secretary
of the college. These applications, accompanied by a deposit of $10, must be
filled out and returned before April 15 of each year. The examinations for
matriculation this year were held June 12, 13, and 14.

The system of instruction that has been adopted at Trinity College is
partly the once universal college method and partly the elective method. The
courses leading to the degree of Bachelor of Arts and to the degree of Bachelor
of Science will be the following, required or elective : Religion Doctrine, Bible,
Liturgy ; Philosophy ; History of the Church ; Greek, Latin ; English, German,
French, Spanish ; Mathematics; Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Geology; History,
Political Science; History of Art and Architecture; Pedagogy; also courses
auxiliary to the study of the modern languages: Anglo-Saxon, Old French, and
Middle High German.

Of these subjects, religion, philosophy, and history of the church are pre-
scribed studies extending through a course of four years. English is prescribed
until senior year ; history until junior year. Students in arts will be required to
take an elective course in science for one year. The entire course open to the
freshman class consists of prescribed studies.

Each student elects at the beginning of the sophomore year the group of
studies to be pursued during the remainder of the course. These groups will
be announced jn the Year-Book to be issued in April, 1901. They will embrace
the required studies of the group and free electives. As it is not possible to
equip the Science Department of the college for 1900-1901, special science
students cannot be admitted in October, 1900.

M. C. M.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

VOL. LXXI. SEPTEMBER, 1900. No. 426.

CAN THE ITALIAN MONARCHY ENDURE ?

BY A. DIARISTA.

HE assassination of King Humbert I. of Italy
aroused the entire civilized world to wrath, as
being another luminous example of the baleful
effects of anarchistic theories when fermenting
in the minds of those on whom fortune has
frowned and to whom religion has taught no patience. This
outburst of general indignation over the tragedy of the occur-
rence has momentarily, obscured all consideration of the
enormously important consequences of a change of sovereign
in Italy. And yet the change is fraught with such mighty
results that, in the judgment of far-sighted European states-
men, events of historic moment may be immediately looked for
in Italy.

It is true that in Italy the king reigns but does not govern,
but the demise of King Humbert does not simply mean the
succession of another figure-head who will sign official docu-
ments and at regular intervals review the army. It implies
one of those incidents, or starting points, that men in their
counsels, and that the course of nature in its inevitable
sequence, wait for to spring forth events of magnitude that in
their weight and importance seem entirely out of proportion
to the trivial incident that provoked their origin.

That Italy for the last half century has been a kingdom is
more or less an accident. Garibaldi, who was the arm that
welded Italian unity, was for the formation of a republic.
Crispi, who was the thinker and statesman of the latter part of
the movement, insisted on the monarchical form of govern-
ment. Whatever may have been his motives and it has often
been averred that it was in the interests of his own ambition

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

OF NEW YORK. 1900.
VOL. LXXI. 46

722 CAN THE ITALIAN MONARCHY ENDURE? [Sept.,

that he preferred a king to a president Crispins eloquence was
effective. " A monarchy will unite us, a republic would divide
us," he said ; and so a monarchy it was.

The independence of Italy was effected by one of the
strangest sequences of luck and incredible good fortune that
history can record. How the power of Austria, of the king-
dom of the two Sicilies and of the other potentates govern-
ing in Italy, withered away before the handfuls of raw levies
that the Italian revolutionaries put in the field, must, in spite
of the explanation of foreign moral aid, always remain some-
thing of a mystery.

But the kingdom of Italy, thus hastily and luckily hatched,
must necessarily have required a period of further careful in-
cubation before being able to take up the extraneous responsi-
bilities and cares that an adult power can assume. A great
world-power, in fact, does not spring Minerva-like into vigorous
existence all in a day, or even in half a century. To have
guaranteed its future the kingdom of Italy should have gone
slow. The Italians themselves say : Chi va piano va sano e
va lontano. This is what the best statesmen of the new king.

THE NEW KING AND QUEEN OF ITALY.

dom under Victor Emmanuel realized. But Signor Crispi
thought otherwise. He had lived in England ; he had been
flattered by British statesmen; he thought it would bring
honor and glory to himself and his country to embark boldly
in a, policy of imperialism. That policy was an act of favor
to England, but it forced a rupture of good relations with

CAN THE ITALIAN MONARCHY ENDURE?

723

QUEEN MARGHERITA OF SAVOY.

France and threw Italy into the arms of Germany and Austria,
as^sole^esource for continuing her claims to be a first-class power.
King Humbert, who was always the pliable instrument of
his ministers, acquiesced, and all the more willingly as the new
policy implied the somewhat idle pomp of a vast army and
navy. When, in 1878, the second king of a united Italy as-
cended the throne, the country was already on the road to a
fairly tangible prosperity. The national debt was small ; so

724 CAN rfcE ITALIAN MONARCHY ENDURE? [Sept.,

also was the military establishment ; there were no ambitions
for colonial expansion ; a gold standard had been established,
and the nation had the good-will of its neighbors. After
twelve years of Humbert's reign, with Crispi's imperialist
policy, the crash came. The national debt had swollen enor-
mously, the army was costing a million francs a day, trouble
and disaster multiplied in the Italian colony in East Africa.
Then the banking system broke down, commerce and agri-
culture were grievously affected, and poverty and misery and
national despair were induced by the onerous taxation that
was imposed to stave off a collapse of the monarchical institu-
tion in Italy.

Ten years have not materially altered this state of affairs,
and Victor Emmanuel III. reaches the throne to find his coun-
try in a condition of semi-bankruptcy, the chief asset of hope
for the future being bright prophecies by the cabinet council,
though the motive for these prophecies is far from convincing.
One thing certain is that the new King is different from his
father as day from night. Will Victor Emmanuel III. succeed
where his father failed, and bring his country to the forefront
among the prosperous nations of the Dearth? Or will his ac-
cession to the throne be the first step to a radical change in
the present form of Italian government, to a subsidence from
an outward ambitious role, and to a new start in the national
life of the Peninsula ? The subject is one of the keenest
interest to every Catholic concerned in the triumph of the
principles and aspirations of the Sovereign Pontiff.

The new King is notably and unmistakably anti-clerical.
He is an avowed enemy of the church. In this he proves a
departure from the traditions of the royal house of which he
is the head.

From the days of the Norseman, Humbert of the White
Hand, from whom they sprang, the dukes of Savoy after-
wards kings of Piedmont and Sardinia, and finally, in our own
times, of Italy have filled an illustrious role in history. The
men of the family, it is claimed for them, have been invaria-
bly distinguished for their valor, and the women for their vir-
tue. This claim may be fairly admitted even in modern times.
The late King Humbert in his young days proved himself a
lion in battle, and a hero in the time of the cholera plague in
Naples ; and his sister, the present Princess Clotilde, has more
than* once been alluded to by Pope Leo XIII. as a woman of
saintly and exemplary life. The family in the past gave a

1 900.] CA N THE ITA LI AN MONA RCHY &ND URE ?

canonized saint to the church, but it also gave an anti-pope,
though ecclesiastical historians agree that this latter was at no
time in bad faith, but only in error. Victor Emmanuel II.
and his son, Humbert I., were both men of strong and in-
eradicable attachment to the church, and the usurpation of the
Pope's temporal domain by the former and the continuance in
possession by the latter, were, it was proved by repeated inci-
dents, the source of continual heart-burnings to them.

Another characteristic of the House of Savoy is that at
intervals, in a succession of nobly endowed men, there have
been born into it cripples and hunchbacks and idiots. One of
Humbert's brothers was a deformed mite of humanity. The
reason for these freaks and physical aberrations has been
charged to a baneful system of intermarriage that has been
common in the history of the family. Both the father and the
grandfather of the present king married their first cousin. The
best physicians in Italy have since his earliest years devoted
an endless care on Victor Emmanuel III. It has been freely
admitted that without a perpetual vigilance to the rules of
health he would never have passed his twentieth year, and the
sole reason for the apprehensions of the doctors was the close
blood relationship of the parents.

The King is diminutive in stature, feeble to the point of
sitting a horse only with the greatest difficulty, and in expres-
sion care-worn and with the aspect of one who looks out on
the world with a perpetual bitterness of feeling. One of the
generals who had care of the young man's education at a criti-
cal period of his career. Count Morra di Lavriano, was re-
putedly anything but a man of religious sentiments. To this
may possibly be attributed the fact that King Humbert's son,
when Crown Prince, gained the reputation of being hostile to
religion. Many violent expressions of his regarding the Papacy
were recorded in authoritative Italian newspapers and left
without contradiction, and many are the acts of severity re-
lated of him towards those under his command who were
-devoted to their religious duties.

At the religious solemnization, four years ago, of the mar-
riage of the then Prince of Naples, in the Church of Santa
Maria degli Angeli in Rome, the present writer had occasion
to observe the future king in the role of one fulfilling a reli-
gious duty. A Mass was sung, and when the sanctuary bell
announced the solemn moment of the Consecration, the Que,en
and her new daughter-in-law were on their knees and the King

726 CAN THE ITALIAN MONARCHY ENDURE? [Sept.,

was bent in reverent attitude. The Prince, however, seized
the moment to make a gratuitously scandalous display of his
irreligious sentiments. While the Sacred Host was being ele-
vated in the air, he deliberately gazed around him and yawned
with an expression of nonchalance and lassitude. The effect
was electrifying and exceedingly painful to all the Catholics
who witnessed it.

Similar sentiments actuating a man called to fill the royal
throne in a city where the successor of Peter holds his sway
cannot but be an evil augury of that man's reign. Inde-
pendently of the thousand and one little points where the in-
terests of the civil and of the spiritual powers meet, and where
an accommodating spirit is an absolute requisite if an un-
pleasant clash is to be avoided, it is hardly to be expected
that the new monarch will lend any co-operation to the Pope's
plans and efforts for the remedying of the social evils. In
Italy there are terrible national disorders crying aloud for
immediate treatment and early cure. A prince imbued with a
fanatical spirit of militarism is the last in the world to whom
one can look for aid in such an emergency.

Military-mad is an epithet that has frequently been applied
to the new potentate. The commanding of men in disciplined
squads has been his hobby and his most serious occupation
from his early years. It is true that he has learned the busi-
ness very thoroughly, and that in matters pertaining to the art
of war he has reached a high point of efficiency and culture.
But a training and occupation of this kind have not taught
him to be tolerant of other men's sentiments and feelings, or
to brook opposition of any kind to his will. He is accustomed
to be listened to and obeyed, and the soldiers and officers who
have served under his command in Naples and in Florence
relate many cases of his martinet severity, and of his disposi-
tion at all times to neglect clemency in exacting the fullest
measure of military rigor for offences and shortcomings. It is
not surprising to learn, therefore, that this monarch has often
shown a disposition to apply to public discontent the measures
and resources of military discipline, that he is impatient of the
free criticism of rulers, or that he is intolerant of anything
approaching socialistic ideas and tendencies. And yet Italy at
this hour is seething with social ferment.

The masses of the Italian people, laborious, industrious, are
sunk in hopeless poverty. What the landlord does not exact
as his rent is squeezed from their pockets by the government.

1 900.] CAN THE ITALIAN MONARCHY ENDURE?

727

THE PANTHEON IN ROME WHERE THE LATE KING is BURIED.

A vast army, useful only for the mere glitter of the thing, and
a horde of rapacious office-holders and government heelers, are
supported in idleness by the taxation of the laborer, who, with
all his slavery, is unable often to procure the bread and cheese,
or the polenta, that would keep body and soul together. Patient
and long suffering, the Italian has acquired the reputation of
being socially and politically incapable. But the hour of reac-
tion inevitably comes in such cases. Glimpses of the awful pos-
sibilities of popular exasperation were witnessed three years ago.
The so-called "bread riots" started in the centre of the
kingdom, and spread like wildfire both north and south. Milan,

728 CAN THE ITALIAN MONARCHY ENDURE? [Sept.,

the commercial capital of the country, and the only Italian
city where industries flourish, was the centre most affected.
Not that in Milan the people were in absolute want of bread,
as they were in other parts of the country; but the Milanese
had suffered in other ways to a point where further submission
seemed to be a crime. Milan, in its prosperity, was being
taxed and drained by government exactions to make up for
the extreme poverty in the centre and south of the country.
Its inhabitants had long been galled by the yoke, were dis-
cussing changes of government, and had sent to the national
parliament representatives pledged to socialist and republican
principles.

The bread riots proved to be the spark that started the
tinter-wood in Milan into flame. A veritable revolt occurred.
The government woke up to the seriousness of the situation.
A prompt and bloody repression was decided on. Five of the
northern provinces were placed under martial law, the gates
of Milan were closed, the telegraph and postal system suspended,
Gatling guns were placed on the public squares, and for nine
days the streets ran blood. The hundreds of dead were heaped
into a pit and covered with lime ; their exact number was un-
known ; journalists and chroniclers of the country were forbid-
den to deal at any time with the repressive measures employed,
and the true history of the occurrence will probably never be
written. In Naples the repression of the revolt was accom-
plished more easily, and in a manner that was considered a
good joke by the sleek and well-fed government employees.
The prefect of the city had four hundred-ton guns planted at
the head of the principal thoroughfare, the Via Toledo, and
requisitioned a number of soldiers to bake a huge quantity of
bread, which was sold at a nominal price to the populace.

But the measures adopted in the quelling of the disorders
left a feeling of deep exasperation. A sign thereof was the
rapid development of organizations of republicans, socialists,
and anarchists, and the spread of newspapers representing these
bodies, springing persistently into renewed existence in spite
of almost constant suppression by the authorities. In the re-
cent Parliament the strength of the representatives of the ele-
ments of Italian discontent revealed itself as a surprise to the
outside world. These representatives, though not a numerical
majority, were strong enough to entirely obstruct the business
of the Parliament. They freely indulged in the expression of
their anti monarchical sentiments, and created so much general

1900.]

CAN THE ITALIAN MONARCHY E'NDURE?

729

scandal that the only resource left to the King was to dissolve
the Chamber of Deputies.

The republican leaders themselves always admitted a certain
sentimental feeling for and a disinclination to struggle against the
past two kings Victor Emmanuel II., who had been the symbol
of Italian unity, and Humbert I., who had valorously fought in
the battles for independence. But they have openly asserted

HUMBERT AND THE QUEEN AT MONZA.

that with the disappearance of the latter all their hesitations
about endeavoring to overthrow the monarchy would disappear.

Around the personality of the present King there never
has been any of the glamour of popularity. He has held
haughtily aloof from the people, and no single act of his has
been such as to attract wide-spread and sympathetic attention.
His wife is a foreigner, a cultured and virtuous lady, but timid
and retiring, and endowed with none of the characteristics
that would attract Italian regard or affection.

Nor can any of the prospective heirs of the Savoy dynasty
claim to have a shadow of prestige with the general public.
The three adult cousins of the King the Duke of Aosta, the
Count of Turin, and the Duke of Abruzzi, the first of whom
is the heir apparent to the thronehave all failed in making
any impression on the esteem or the good feeling of the
Italian people. The last mentioned of them is a taciturn
naval officer, known only as a .mountain-climber, and at present
leading an expedition towards the North Pole. The Count of
Turin, any Italian will at once explain, is a mere fashion-plate

730 CAN THE ITALIAN MONARCHY ENDURE? [Sept.,

dandy ; and the Duke of Aosta is characterized as poorly en-
dowed with brains, and is married to a French princess, who
has freely and frequently scoffed at all things Italian.

With the country in a serious financial crisis and seething
with sedition, it would require a very optimistic spirit indeed
to forecast anything like stability for the throne of the dukes
of Savoy. The project that of late years has been crystalliz-
ing itself in the minds of agitators and reformers is the estab-
lishment in Italy of a federated republic on the principle of
the United States, or the Swiss Confederation. There is no
doubt that this form of government would remedy many of
the most serious difficulties that at present militate against the
existing regime. An important one of these is the radical
difference that exists in needs and interests between the vari-
ous portions of the kingdom that were formerly under sepa-
rate sway. The Milanese, for instance, and the Neapolitan are
engaged in very different pursuits, speak practically a different
language, have different customs and institutions, and require
different forms of legislation. Under the present centralization
of government both are seriously handicapped.

Another advantage advocated for the proposed federated
republic is that it would furnish a means of satisfying the just
claims of the Sovereign Pontiff for temporal independence.
The canton or state of which Rome would be the chief city
would be under the supreme direction of the Pope, and possi-
bly also a certain dominant controlling voice would be given
the Holy Father over all the laws and decisions of the central
administration of the republic.

That the project is not displeasing to the Vatican has been
frequently asserted. It has been affirmed that it is fully in
accordance with the ideas and desires of Cardinal Rampolla,.
the present Pontifical Secretary of State. How true this may
be it is not easy to state. Possibly it is based on the fact
that an article, alluding to the federated republic project as
an adequate solution of the Roman question, was some time
ago published in the famous Catholic review, the Civilt&
Cattolica, and ft is known that prior to publication the editor,,
a distinguished Jesuit, customarily submits to Cardinal Ram-
polla all articles regarding the policy of the church. However
this may be, several of the most far-seeing of disinterested
Italian observers hold that the actuation of a radical change
of government in Italy is logically and inevitably an occur-
rence that must soon be witnessed.

1900.] HOME-RELIEF THE BEST FORM OP CHARITY. 731

HOME-RELIEF THE BEST FORM OF ORGANIZED

CHARITY.

BY JOHN E. GRAHAM.

|T is a well-known fact that misguided charity has
been productive of much evil in the past. Far
from lessening the number of social parasites, it
has only tended to increase it. And this is but
natural, for as long as the purse is open to
every chance comer irrespective of worth there will always be
a horde of lazy impostors ready to pounce upon it. The no-
tion that such indiscriminate alms-giving constitutes true,
genuine charity is a mistaken one. By reason of the giver's
good intentions it will indeed be meritorious in the sight of
God, but it certainly is not the most effective means of assist-
ing the neighbor. Instead of helping the indigent forward on
the road of life, it often serves only to cast a stumbling-block
in their path, thereby retarding the progress they might other-
wise have made. To be truly beneficial, our charity should be
judicious. The most efficient way to aid the poverty-stricken
is to set them on their feet and give them a chance to help
themselves to procure work for them. But, unfortunately, this
cannot always be done. Sickness, hard times, a wide-spread
financial crisis, or other circumstances beyond our control, may
sometimes render it utterly impossible. It is to such cases as
these that we wish to call attention in order to learn how they
may be most effectually dealt with. We do not presume to
suggest a new method, still less a flawless one. It is not new,
for it has been more or less in vogue since poverty was first
known and felt. But the trouble is that it has not hitherto
received its due meed of recognition, especially in the sphere
of organized charities. Neither is it without its flaws or short-
comings, since no system of relief is absolutely perfect, and,
despite the efforts and proposed remedies of economists and
philanthropists, the words of Christ will remain true: "The
poor you have always with you."

While the world goes on opportunities will never be want-
ing to lighten their hardships and bring a little sunshine into
their dreary lives. Still, though neither new nor flawless, it is

732 HOME-RELIEF THE BEST FORM OF CHARITY. [Sept.,

susceptible of newer and more scientific methods by means of
which it may easily be rendered less flawless, or rather, more
perfect, than it is at present. The system referred to is the
relief of the poor in their own homes. By many, whose prac-
tical knowledge gives them a right to speak with authority on
the subject, it is considered far superior to all other proposed
schemes. It numbers among its advocates, not only local
philanthropists, whose experience is necessarily limited, but like-
wise men of science who have thoroughly investigated the
matter and tested the various systems in all their different
phases.

The result of even a superficial study of prevailing condi-
tions will be a hearty endorsement of this view. In the first
place, home-relief is certainly preferable to the system of public
institutions for housing the destitute, as also to the distribu-
tion of supplies from public centres such as soup-houses, police-
stations, etc. Apart from the loftier motives which ought to
guide us in works of charity, our system is by far the most
commendable even from a merely economic stand-point. For
as long as the family remains undivided it is possible, in most
cases, for its members to help one another to contribute in
some measure to the common maintenance. In this way they
will cost the state much less than if the whole burden of their
support be thrown upon it by resorting to its public institu-
tions. But, besides, it is of all systems the most kindly and
considerate, the one which gives the broadest field for the
exercise of true charity. When carried out in a brotherly and
Christian spirit, as it should be, it spares to a great extent
the fine feelings of the proud, or rather self-respecting, and
worthy poor, to whom their condition is sometimes as bitter as
gall and wormwood, and who would almost prefer starvation
to public beggary. In addition to this, by enabling the family
to remain united it prevents the heartache, the not infrequent
demoralization of children, and other evils which often result
from enforced separation. The efficiency of the system, how-
ever, depends in large measure on its controlling power.
Sometimes this power is the state ; sometimes, benevolent
societies or individuals. Under state control it is, as a rule,
liable to many and great abuses, from the fact that it is often
in the hands of unscrupulous politicians whose desire to secure
a large following induces them to make of it little more than
a political corruption fund. Often the vast majority of the
beneficiaries are their tools, and by no means the poorest in

i goo.] HOME-RELIEF THE BEST FORM OF CHARITY. 733

the community, while the most deserving are frequently left to
shift for themselves. These are the causes which led to the
abolition of the system in Brooklyn and Philadelphia. To get
an idea of its practical working in the former city, the reader
may refer to the report of Seth Low, under whose administra-
tion as mayor the change was brought about.*

In Germany and France, owing to the judicious manner in
which the system is carried out, it has proved most successful.
That it has not given satisfaction in some parts of our own
country is entirely due to mismanagement. But the subject
which touches us most closely is the relief given by charity
organizations and private individuals. In this case there is far
less danger of abuse because there are no selfish political ends
to be attained, while owing to the difficulty often experienced
in raising supplies, the donors cannot afford to be overlavish
in their distribution. Their sole aim being the relief of the
most needy and deserving, they will exercise better judgment
and discrimination, and thus render imposture more difficult.f

Among the organizations whose object is the carrying out of
this system of relief there is none, perhaps, more efficient,
more thoroughly imbued with the spirit of Christian charity,
than the Conference of St. Vincent de Paul, founded by
Frederic Ozanam and his little band of fellow-students in 1833,
and now known in almost every country of the civilized world.
Its efforts are rarely misdirected. There is seldom any reason
to complain of imposition, since a careful and judicious inves-
tigation always precedes the giving of alms ; and even after the
need and worth of the parties have been ascertained, the
society in many cases guards still further against possible
abuse by giving tickets for food and clothing, instead of
money. Nor is this scrutiny made in such a way as to wound
the feelings of the recipient. The very life and soul of the
conference is the spirit of Christian brotherhood, and where
its members are animated with this spirit they leave no means
untried to impress it on those whom they visit. By procuring
alms from those who have something to spare and carrying
them to others who have less than they need, the unselfish
disciples of Ozanam play the part of mediators between rich
and poor, bring about a better understanding between them,
and thus help to do away with a great deal of the class
hatred so prevalent in this age of ours; and in this connection

* Vide Warner : American Charities, p. 168.

t On this subject see Professor Warner's American Charities, p. 175.

734 HOME-RELIEF THE BEST FORM OF CHARITY. [Sept.,

it is highly important for us to realize pur own duties. If the
faithful at large are expected to contribute to the alleviation
of distress, the obligation is still more binding on their spir-
itual guides and rulers the ministers of the God of Charity.

In every great Christian social movement for the relief of
suffering humanity the priest should be found in the van-
guard fighting valiantly. None should be better acquainted
with the needs of his flock and the best means of providing
for them. By failing in this respect, he may cause a great
part of his spiritual ministry to go for naught. By fidelity to
his obligation, he will endear himself to the hearts of his peo-
ple and produce a favorable impression on the outside world.
The standard by which we are judged the test of our genuine
worth is a deep, heart-felt sympathy in all that concerns the
flock of Christ. He who possesses it will find in his people
true, loyal, and loving followers, ready to stand by him in fair
weather and foul. He who lacks it will succeed but poorly.
If he pays little heed to the temporal welfare of his parishion-
ers, many of them will, in return, pay little heed to his spiri-
tual guardianship. One of the best means of fulfilling his ob-
ligations in this regard is the encouragement of the organiza-
tion just referred to the Conference of St. Vincent de Paul.

The spread of such an association, with a rigid adherence
to the spirit and aims of its founders, will doubtless prove, in
course of time, one of the strongest bulwarks against the pre-
valence of the communistic and extreme socialistic principles
towards which a large number of the poorer class are, con-
sciously or unconsciously, drifting.

1900.] THE SHIPWRECK. 735

THE SHIPWRECK.

(After the manner of Spenser.}
BY CHARLESON SHANE.

my grassy couch I lay at eve :
Above me stretched the mountain's tow'ring

height ;

Afar the rays of dying sunshine cleave
The western sky and paint with glorious light

The lowering clouds, forerunners of the night

That fain would scowl with rude severity

And solemn meaning as the gladsome sight

Of beauty thus revealed lets them see,

Beneath, the hidden storm unknown to you or me.

Then in the sea that stretched from my feet

The sun descended and withdrew the day ;

Against the shore the dashing breakers beat

And seemed to shout to me as there I lay,

And roar like baby lions at their play

That frisk and gambol while they rest alone ;

But let the roving eye encounter prey

And all the playfulness aside is thrown

Upon the beast they spring and rend him bone from bone.

Without the sun, doth soon the sky grow dark ;

Beneath the sailing clouds the moonbeams lie ;

The air feels chill upon my brow and, hark !

The sullen thunder ! From the storm clouds fly

The forked lightnings. Mark Dan Vulcan ply

With might and main his bellows, till the glare

Spreads from his furnace over all the sky.

Then from JEolus' bonds the wild winds tear;

At length the waves, awaked, the general uproar share.

Then far away out on the stormy sea
A white sail glimmers through the closing night ;
A-beam the wind the rock-bound coast a-lee :
Up to my feet I start, in sudden fright.

THE SHIPWRECK. [Sept.,

May Heaven pity now the luckless wight

That paces yonder doomed vessel's deck,

Now quick uprising to a dizzy height,

Now gliding fathoms down ! She soon must check

Upon the hidden reef and sink a hopeless wreck.

The wild gale drives the wretched vessel near,
The foaming waves rush round in mad delight.
Scarce had the hapless crew rushed forth in fear,
When that the flash which showed them to my sight
Blazed on the jagged rock. They shriek in fright ;
And some cry help to me, in voices hoarse ;
And some leap in, to test their puny might
Against the raging tempest's awful force ;
But scarce ten paces gone, each sank a lifeless corse.

Then forward dashed the ship, and with a crash
She struck the cruel rock and there stood still,
As o'er her stern the foaming breakers dash :
Her hold the hurtling water 'gins to fill,
Fast streaming through her sides in many a rill.
While most the crew stood still, some few did climb
The quivering mast, for it was standing still.
Beneath them climb the water, and what time
The vessel sinking was, each took farewell of prime.

Below the dismal waves they slowly sank,
While round about the rocking waters fought.
Their cries I heard, a-kneeling on the bank,
The air with prayers and curses was yfraught ;
And soon the wind the wild refrain had caught,
And howled the wailing through each rocky cave
(I ween to chaunt their requiem it sought).
One corpse was washed from out that wat'ry grave
A mother and the babe she tried in vain to save.

THE GARDENS OF THE IMPERIAL PALACE, PEKIN.

THE PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH

IN CHINA.

\O those interested in the spread of the Gospel,
and in the progress of civilization which it in-
volves, no region of the world is a subject of
deeper interest than China. Here dwell over
one-fourth of the human race, a heathen people,
but not by any means a savage one ; a people of paradoxical
habits and modes of thought, and, as a result, the most mis-
understood people in the world.

To the spread of Christianity in China there are obstacles
and difficulties of a radical character. The Chinaman has a
civilization of his own. He is satisfied with it, and he is cer-
tainly convinced that no foreigner can bring him anything that
will be an improvement on it. Furthermore, he is conserva-
tive. This is a basic principle of his whole code of ethics and
morality, and on this principle he will raise his hand against
VOL. LXXI. 47

738 PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CHINA. [Sept.,

innovations, even though they would obviously be beneficial
and desirable.

The man of new ideas and stirred by the unrest of modern
civilization is out of place in China. There a condition of
seriousness, tranquillity, and contentment is the ideal to which
men aspire. The system of government itself is entirely
satisfactory to the governed, for it is based on the great princi-

Li HUNG CHANG.

1900.]

pie of Chinese
morality, the de-
votion of children
to their parents
and ancestors.
It is patriarchal
and parental, as
the Emperor is
recognized as the
father of the whole
Chinese family.
The laws are mild
and humane, and
perfectly pleasing
to the people.
The system of re-
wards and punish-
ments that obtain
are naive and
primitive, but
again entirely to
the liking of all.
From our point
of view it certain-
ly does seem a lit-
tle strange to hear,
for instance, of
Li Hung Chang,
the famous war-
rior and states-
man, petitioning
the Emperor to
punish him be-
cause a river in
his province has
overflowed, and to
learn that in con-
sequence the im-
perial ruler has
deprived the vice-
roy of the privi-
lege of wearing
the yellow jacket.

740 PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CHINA. [Sept.,

Or, again, it comes to us as a surprise that, because there is a
satisfactory rainfall and drought is averted, certain mandarins re-
ceive the peacock's feather, or the sable robe, or the privilege
of entering the outer gate of the palace on horseback. But
then these belong to the old-time traditions of the country,
which the people love, and besides, the punishments or re-
wards really alter in no way the position of the person affect-
ed by them.

A point we generally fail to realize is, that the government
of China is very far from being despotic or tyrannical. In
reality a very democratic spirit is prevalent ; the officials are in
the vast majority of cases drawn from the common people Li
Hung Chang, for example, comes from the lowest and poorest
class of the community and the free and open criticism of the
acts of the officials is as great and as general as in any
Western country.

With this Chinese lack of receptiveness and assimilation of
new ideas from without, it will be readily understood that a
great barrier stood in the way of the introduction of the true
religion. And yet it found an entrance, and it has happened
in the history of China that a Catholic priest was at one time
the highest minister of state in the country, and that, over
three centuries ago, the Catholic religion was by an imperial
decree placed on the same footing with the chief form of wor-
ship already existing in the country.

Regarding the existing or native form of religion in China
three sects or denominations may be distinguished : that of
the Scholars, called Joo Keaou, or Confucianism ; that of
Buddha, Fuh Keaou ; and that of Tao, Taou Keaou. Of these
the Buddhist form is the most wide-spread. On the whole,
however, the native religion of the Chinese includes no distinct
belief in the individuality of a supreme being, or in the im-
mortality of the soul. A species of pantheism is prevalent,
but to the Chinaman religion is primarily a code of morals,
and treats chiefly of honor and respect to parents, ancestors,
heroes, and to the dead generally.

Spiritualism, mesmerism, clairvoyance, palmistry, and magic
have also their large part. The modern literature of the
Celestial Empire is greatly concerned with them, and supersti-
tions based on phrenology and the like " sciences " receive a
large portion of daily attention. Mr. Robert K. Douglas, the
famous British scholar and expert in the Chinese dialects, thus
translates a portion of what would correspond to a universal

1900.] PROSPECTS OF THE CA THOLIC CHURCH IN CHINA. 741

CHINESE CONVERTS TO CHRISTIANITY.

prayer-book among the Chinese : " The face of a man favored
by fortune should be long and square, but for the man with
a face pointed at each end like a date-stone, poverty is in
store. High cheek bones are a sign of a cruel disposition, and
a matron so distinguished is likely to prove a husband killing
wife. A broad chin belongs to a man whose lot it is to be
poor. A man whose jawbone is so wide as to be seen from
behind the ears has a heart full of poison. The possessor of
a high forehead will be held in esteem and will live to old
age ; but he whose nose is long is a man devoid of a fixed
purpose. If you cannot see the ears of a man when meeting
him face to face, ask who he is, for he is somebody. If you
cannot see the jawbones of a man under like circumstances,
ask where he comes from, that you may avoid him. A large
face and a small body are signs of happiness, and the reverse
is an omen of evil. A man with a narrow head and long hair
will encounter difficulties, and death from starvation will over-
take him whose hair grows long down to his ears. He whose

742 PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CHINA. [Sept.,

hair turns white at an early age will not be fortunate ; but for
him whose hair after turning white should recover its original
color, great happiness is in store." With theories and investi-
gations of this kind the average Chinaman of education inter-
ests himself, as do Western scholars with the great principles
of theology.

The history of the introduction of Christianity into China
in relatively modern times is full of interest. Two famous
Venetian travellers, Niccolo and Matteo Polo, father and uncle
of the still more famous traveller, Marco Polo, paid a visit to
the great Tartar prince, Kublai Khan, at Yenkin. This was in
the second half of the thirteenth century. They told him of
the Christian religion, and when they were setting out on their
return to Europe Kublai sent with them one of his officers as
an envoy to the Pope. This envoy, according to the travellers,
was " to request His Holiness to send to Kublai Khan one
hundred men of learning, thoroughly acquainted with the
principles of the Christian religion as well as with the seven
sciences, and qualified to prove to the learned of his dominions,
by just and fair argument, that the faith professed by the Chris-
tians is superior to and founded upon more evidence than any
other."

ENTRANCE TO THE FRENCH LEGATION, PEKIN.

1900.] PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH-IN CHINA. 743

THE CHINESE SECRETARY'S HOUSE AT THE BRITISH LEGATION.

Gregory X., in 1274, responded to this request by sending
three Italian missionaries. From the further narrative of
Marco Polo we are given to understand that the monarch was
greatly impressed by what he learned of Christianity, but that
his own conversion was not encompassed simply because the
right man, capable of inducing him to take the step, had not
been sent to him. Had it been otherwise and Kublai become
a Christian, there is little doubt but the history of the world
would have been greatly modified.

In the fourteenth century Pope Clement V. named an arch-
bishop of Pekin in the person of the monk, Fra Giovanni da
Montecorvio. But it was in the seventeenth century that the
first great missionary harvest in China occurred. Jesuits,
Dominicans, and Franciscans were already in considerable
numbers in the country. Shun-Chi, the first of the Manchu
rulers, decided to seek a general education at the hands of the
German Jesuit, Father Adam Schaal. So satisfactorily did
this famous priest acquit himself of the task, that he was soon
appointed by the emperor to be first minister of state. Then
it was that the strange fact verified itself of a Catholic mis-
sionary actually governing the empire of China. Shun-Chi,

744 PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CHINA. [Sept.,

however, died quite young, his son and successor, Kang Hi,
being then only eight years of age. A council of four minis-
ters acted as regents. They were old men who had felt bitter
mortification at the honors lavished by the late monarch on
the Christians. They accordingly inaugurated the new reign
by a persecution. Father Schaal was seized and cast into
prison. Catholic churches were destroyed, and native Chris-
tians who refused to abjure their new religion were punished
by imprisonment, torture, and even death.

As soon as the young emperor grew old enough to assume
the reins of power he quickly stopped the persecution of the
Christians and proceeded to make some reparation for the
wrongs done them. Father Ferdinand Verbiest", another Jesuit
who has acquired rank in history, was selected by Kang Hi to
fill a position almost equivalent to that held by Father Schaal
in the preceding reign. Verbiest soon grew to be a figure of
awe and admiration in the eyes of the Chinese authorities, be-
cause of his ability as an astronomer and because he knew
how to cast cannon, which were of service in Kang Hi's wars.
This monarch issued in 1692 an edict which was regarded as a
species of Magna Charta by the Catholic Church. It decreed
that the Christian religion should, with regard to privileges and
immunities, be placed on the same footing with Buddhism,
which, as has been said, was the most prevalent form of wor-
ship in the country. This official act of tolerance made the
Catholic religion very popular, and in a brief period it devel-
oped a flourishing condition. In the provinces of Nganhwui,
Kiangsu, and Kiangsi alone there were soon as many as one
hundred churches and over 100,000 Chinese converts.

A couple of years later a Jesuit missionary writing from
Pekin stated that in that city the priests of his society were
then annually baptizing an average of six hundred adults as
well as several thousands of children.

The official summary of the condition of the mission, sent
from Pekin to Rome by Father Francis Noel in 1703, contains
an interesting account of the progress of the faith.

"To the joy of seeing ^ur flock daily increase," writes the
missionary, " is added the joy of knowing with what fervor the
majority of the Chinese Christians acquit themselves of their
duties. The associations of our Saviour's Passion and of the
Blessed Virgin contribute largely to keeping them in holy dis-
positions. These assemblies are held every month, and some-
times more frequently. After the customary exercises of de-

IQOO.] PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CHINA. 745

votion, five or six of the most fervent and capable members
of the association are deputed to visit the houses of the Chris-
tians in general. They find out if all therein are baptized, if
the morning and evening prayers are regularly said, if the
sacraments are approached, if the sick are visited, if holy water
is kept, and finally if efforts are made to gain infidel souls to
Christ. At the following meeting these deputies render an ex-
act account of their mission. We have found by experience that

THE RUSSIAN MINISTER'S HOUSE, PEKIN.

this plan, more than all others, is qualified to entertain union
and piety in the churches where these holy associations are es-
tablished. The women, spurred on by the example of the men,,
have also formed among themselves societies wherein they prac-
tise almost similar exercises and methods. There are about
eight hundred ladies in Pekin who meet in different quarters-
of the city, and who communicate to each other the best
method of employing their zeal to instruct and to win to God
the pagan women with whom they come in contact."

An interesting incident showing the prestige of the Catho-
lic missionaries in China in the second half of the long reign
of Kang Hi is related in a letter by the French Jesuit, Father
Jartoux. A famine, resulting from an inundation, was during

746 PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CHINA. [Sept.,

this year devastating the province of Shantung. The manda-
rins were unable to cope with the evil. A number of them
were punished and many others fell into disgrace. It was then
that the emperor summoned the missionaries to his presence.
He informed them that it was their co-operation alone that he
desired in combating the dreadful scourge. He placed some
thousands of taels in their hands and requested them to go
forth and take measures for the relief of the suffering. It is a
charming picture that the missionary draws of the troops of
starving Chinese flocking to the Catholic priests with the confi-
dence of obtaining relief ; of the method of the latter in cook-
ing and apportioning in the various districts the huge quanti-
ties of rice and herbs necessary to satisfy the urgent needs,
and of their carrying out the whole arrangements with a disci-
pline and order as perfect as if a highly trained European
army were concerned. This was in the year 1704, more than
a century before the first Protestant missionary set foot in
China.

It will be seen that the Catholic missionary had known how
to triumph over the conservatism and distrust of the foreigner
that are deeply imbedded in the Chinese. Unfortunately, how-
ever, many things have occurred in the present century to stir
up the worst elements in the make-up of the people, and the
progress of religion has, in consequence, suffered at times. But
in all fairness it must be admitted that the Mongolian, even if
sinning, has also been much sinned against.

First and foremost, the great European powers have shown
a desire to seize for themselves the choicest morsels of the
Chinese Empire. Again, Great Britain impeded China when
the latter desired to legislate against the use of opium. A
marked discrimination has also been made by this country
against China. Thus, the United States and a number of British
colonies have passed laws against Chinese immigration, when
no such opposition was made to the incoming of the other
prominent member of the yellow race, the Japanese. Some
twenty years ago the Chinese government sought the permis-
sion of the United States to have a number of its students
trained and educated at its expense at West Point and Anna-
polis. The request was urgently repeated at intervals during
three years, for the Chinese government was well aware that
at that very time a number of Japanese students were receiv-
ing their instruction at Annapolis. When finally it was evident
that- further appeal was vain, the Chinese government desisted,

1900.] PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH *IN CHINA. 747

and then decided to
withdraw the so-called
Chinese Educational
Mission, which has
been described as the
most practical scheme
ever undertaken by
China for placing her-
self in line with mod-
ern ideas and methods.
In the great naval fight
during the recent
Chino-Japanese war
many of the chief of-
ficers on the latter side
were graduates of An-
napolis, and it has,
consequently, been
more than once con-
jectured that the ac-
tion of this country in
granting to Japan a
favor which it refused
to China had consider-
able influence in de-
ciding the issue of the
fight.

Calamities of many
kinds had recently fal-
len on China, inunda-
tions, drought, and
famine, involving ter-
rible suffering and a
serious loss of life. These, added to intricate and bewil-
dering diplomatic craftiness by the foreign powers, served to
drive the Chinese to a condition of frenzy and desperation.
Unfortunately, this people of strange contradictions, from being
naturally long-suffering and peace-loving in normal conditions,
develop, when aroused by real or fancied grievances and wrongs,
a cruelty and vindictiveness and barbarity of disposition that
cause civilization and humanity to stand aghast and horrified.

But as to the outlook of religien in China many persons
are probably allowing themselves to be so impressed by the

VICE-ADMIRAL SIR ROBERT SEYMOUR, OF THE
BRITISH FORCES:

748 PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CHINA. [Sept.,

present regrettable circumstances that they draw unduly pes-
simistic conclusions. China, we are assured on every hand, is
hastening to its ruin. There is a Sick Man in the far East,
we are told by the would-be political prophets. But it has
often been observed that threatened states live long, and the
Sick Man of the Bosphorus, whose early end was freely pro-
phesied a few years ago, is certainly showing a great deal of
vitality. Whatever be the outcome, there ought, even humanly
considering the subject, to be no reason to despair of the faith
in China. Catholics may suffer grievously during the present
crisis. But then the harvest has been sown abundantly. There
are well over a million Catholics in the Empire ; all the Prot-
estant denominations claim for their creeds is a total of only
some fifty thousand converts. And the outcome of the trouble
with the foreign powers will have the inevitable result of bring-
ing China into closer touch with Western civilization.

Even in recent years the usually conservative and uncom-
municative viceroys and mandarins have issued flattering state-
ments regarding the religion of Christ. The Tsung-li-Yamen
itself, the chief body of Imperial ministers, came forth from
its reserve some five years ago to treat encomiastically of
Christianity and the missionaries in a memorial to the Em-
peror. " The religion of the great West," they said, " per-
suades people to follow the paths of virtue. It has been pro-
pagated in the Western countries for many years. The
hospitals .for the sick and asylums for infants are all good
works. Of late years in all the places in the different pro-
vinces visited by calamities there were many missionaries who
contributed large sums, and helped to alleviate the sufferings
of the people. Their love to do good and their generosity in
giving are certainly commendable." Again, only a year ago
the Chinese government conferred high official rank on the
Catholic bishops and missionary priests throughout the empire.

The omen, then, for the Catholic Church is good, and for
China herself there are indications which do not suggest a de-
spairing forecast. As good an authority as Mr. Chester Hoi-
combe, who for many years was United States acting minister
in Pekin, says : " It seems impossible that any one should come
to know them [the Chinese] well without reaching the convic-
tion that there is a great future before the nation, and that
China has yet an important part to play in the history of the
world."

In 1865 a treaty was entered into with the government

1 900.] PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CHINA. 749

whereby the missionaries could buy property without the con-
sent of the mandarins. This provision was allowed for some
months, but when it was discovered how far it would break in
on the authority of the mandarins it was repudiated until the
Tsung-li-Yamen was compelled to define with more precision
its position and yield again to the missionaries this privilege.
During the past year, before the outbreak of hostilities, the
progress of Catholicism was quite notable. In the mission of
Chang-tong there were 5,085 conversions ; in Kiang-nan more
than 2,500 ; in Kouang-tong 2,627. There was a corresponding

A TYPICAL VILLAGE FORT.

growth in each of the other provinces. Of course in Manchu-
ria, where the dominant policy is Russian, there is more op-
portunity offered to the growth of Christianity. Under this
Christian influence the missionaries were able to receive and
baptize, during 1899, 85,643 babies, who had been practically
abandoned by their mothers. In the various provinces there
are established the houses of various religious communities.
They have their orphan asylums, hospitals, and dispensaries.

A very accurate estimate of the present condition of the
church in China may be seen from the following summary of
missionaries and of souls under their charge : The Society of

750 PROSPECTS OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CHINA. [Sept.,

Foreign Missions in Paris has 269 priests and 181,015 Catholics
within its jurisdiction. The Franciscans have 126 missionar-
ies and 109,428 of the faithful in their nine vicariates. The
Lazarists have charge of six vicariates, with 85 missionaries and
103,000 Catholics. The Society of Mary Immaculate has 69
Belgian priests and 30,242 Catholics. The Society of Foreign
Missions of Italy has 17 missionaries and 12,885 Christians.
The Jesuits have 170 religious and 160,000 Catholics. The
Dominicans in their two vicariates have 23 missionaries, chiefly
Spanish, with 40,000 Catholics. The Augustinians have 10 mis-
sionaries and 3,000 Catholics. The Seminary of Sts. Peter and
Paul in Rome has 15 missionaries in charge of 120,000 souls.
The Dutch Society of Foreign Missions has 14 missionaries
and 10,000 Catholics. Besides, there are a few hundred thou-
sand Catholics spread through Cochin China and Cambodia.
In all there are about 1,000 European priests, with half as many
native priests, and twice as many catechists. There are 3,722
churches and 2,663 schools, and over 72,000 pupils.

This wonderful growth has not been without its sacrifice of
men and blood. It may be checked fry the present war, but
the net result will be the opening of China more and more to
European influence.

igoo.] THE BIBLE IN THE LIFE OF THE PEOPLE. 751

THE BIBLE IN THE LIFE, THOUGHT, AND
HOMES OF THE PEOPLE.

BY DR. B. F. DE COSTA.

'BOUT one year ago a celebrated Protestant digni.
tary, notorious for the patronage he has be-
stowed upon the Higher Criticism, in dwelling
upon the benefits derived from the work, declared
that a modern fetichism had '* dishonored the
Bible by claiming to be its elect guardian," and had thus shut
it up " within the walls of a dreary literalism, robbing it alike
of interest and power." This was a remarkable discovery,
quite as remarkable as some of those made with regard to the
condition of the Catholic Church in the Philippines, after stand-
ing a little while, perhaps, on the pier at Manila, viewing the
ecclesiastical condition through a spy-glass. The Bible, from
the early centuries until now, has been a pre-eminently free
book, free to every abuse. It has stood the pride and glory
of all nations, proving an uplifting force in civilization.

But, three hundred years ago, far-seeing men anticipated the
present results of the so-called Reformation. The flight of
time has brought the Catholic Church into relations with the
Christian world the supreme importance of which must ere
long be recognized by thoughtful Christians of every name.
Protestants began by substituting an infallible Bible for an
infallible Church, and now that they no longer recognize any
infallibility, the Catholic Church remains the sole defender of
the Bible in its integrity and entirety. The Church formerly
credited with hostility to the Bible is found to be its only re-
liable friend. The real attitude of the Catholic Church to
Holy Scripture, defined by the Councils of Florence t and Trent,
has been restated by Leo XIII., and the position is one from
which the Church can never retreat. The Catholic Church
holds the Bible as plenarily inspired and without error, and,
consequently, authoritative. Any attempt to break the force of
the Papal declaration by reference to unimportant misreadings
of texts, will not avail. The Church can never change her
attitude toward the Word of God. Thus the Catholic Church
stands in a relation of supreme importance to the revealed

752 THE BIBLE IN THE LIFE, THOUGHT, [Sept.,

will. To the surprise of non-Catholics, the Church is now ex-
clusively commissioned with a work once supposed to be the
great and unique task of the Protestant Reformation, the guar-
dianship of an inspired Bible. The occupation of the Refor-
mation is gone, and in the eyes of the world the Church now
more and more appears devoted to a work that she never re-
linquished, or even wearied of. With the patience of the ages,
she stands the unshaken defender of " the Divine Library,"
the Word of God. This is a great and noble mission, and
angels who were bearers of so many Bible messages to man
now look down, viewing with infinite solicitude the manner in
which the Church performs her task.

The Catholic of to-day is called to a work of unparalleled
importance. The eyes of the world are fixed upon him. He
must now appreciate as never before the character and magni-
tude of his calling, doing everything in his power to make the
most of a situation that is challenging universal attention. The
practical uses of the Bible demand his most serious thought,
and, by every means in his power, he must make the Book of
all books a living Book, and thus demonstrate that now, as in
former days, the inspired record is instinct with Divine power.

Let us, therefore, glance at the manner in which the Bible has
entered into the life and thought of the people in past centuries.

Wherever the Sacred Scriptures have been borne by rever-
ent hands they have proved " quick and powerful," energizing
the intellect and inspiring the soul. This was true of the Old
Testament Scriptures, in which Apollos, the convert of Alexan-
dria, proved himself " mighty " when preaching in the syna-
gogue of Corinth. The Bereans were elevated and ennobled
by the study of the same ancient Scriptures, in which Timothy
was trained from a child by his grandmother, Eunice. In the
.second century the Books, afterwards pronounced canonical,
were in part or whole translated into the Syriac, for long
generations the vehicle of Syrian thought and literature. It
was the policy of the Church to place the Word of God in
the hands of the people wherever it could be successfully done.
The sacred books reached Ceylon and China in the sixth and
seventh centuries, and in the ninth century were telling upon
the conversion of the Saxons, having long before become
household treasures in Britain and Ireland. St. Aidan, at Lin-
disfarne, knew the importance of the work, recognized by
Caedmon (660-80), in popularizing the Bible by metrical trans-
lations ; while it is observed that "Ireland maybe justly proud

1900.] AND HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. 753

of the Book of Kells. This copy of the Gospels, traditionally
said to belong to St. Colomba, is unquestionably the most
elaborately executed manuscript of early art now in existence."

The offices of the Church, besides a mass of lesser devo-
tional books, were constantly employed to bring home the
Bible to the hearts of the people, and enshrine it in their
lives. With the invention of printing, the Church, in the most
liberal spirit, set out upon the work of giving the Scriptures
to the people in vernacular tongues. The history of the Bible
in the Catholic Church abounds with the grandest encourage-
ment for- laboring to place the Sacred Word in immediate con-
tact with the life and thought of the present generation. By
her monuments, sculpture, painting, and architecture, indeed
by every department of art, the Church has sought to advance
the Bible in the estimation of her children. The work that
ended in the bronze gates of Florence was begun in the Cata-
combs. Ruskin shows how chisel and pencil were employed
to popularize the Bible, and declares that the Church of St.
Mark, Venice, with its Byzantine splendor, was really designed
to be "a type of the Redeemed Church of God, and a scroll
for the written word of God." It was to be to the Venetians
" both an image of the Bride, all glorious within, her clothing
of wrought gold; and the actual Table of the Law and the
Testimony written within and without." " Not in wantonness of
wealth," he says, " were the marbles hewn into transparent
strength and the arches arrayed in the colors of the iris !
Never had a city a more glorious Bible."

Newman shows, in his own incomparable English, what a
Bible can do for the people. Speaking of its influence upon
the Englishman, he says: "It is the representative of his best
moments," while "all that there has been about him of soft
and gentle, and pure, and penitent, and good, speaks to him
for ever out of his English Bible." It is only with a large
qualification that one can now continue to quote: "It is his
sacred thing, which doubt has never dimmed, and controversy
never soiled." Long years have passed since Newman wrote
these words, and if he could return to-day he would be aston-
ished to learn how the Anglican has fallen, rendering the
reverse of nearly all his predictions true. The same revolution
has taken place among Protestants in this country, and an
Episcopalian bishop at Washington writes: "Under the influ-
ence of the ' Higher Criticism,' thousands have lost their faith
in the Old Testament as the inspired word of God," while
VOL LXXI. 48

754 THE BIBLE IN THE LIFE, THOUGHT, [Sept.,

" the faith of multitudes is so shaken that even Sunday-school
children speak of the Scriptures with an irreverent freedom
that would have amazed the preceding generation." It re-
mains, therefore, the peculiar duty of the Catholic to stand
fast in his devout acceptance of the Word, giving a most loyal
support to the declarations of the Holy Father in his Encyc-
lical Providentissimus Deus, 1893.

In the life and thought of the people, first of all, the Bible
should have its place as a holy book, and of this something
will be said further on. It is desired at this point to impress
upon the mind of the reader the large place that the Bible
should have as literature, combining as it does prose and poe-
try of the most exalted character, by the remarkable com-
mingling of which the reader has, in the most charming form,
parable and history. The education of that man is neglected
whose culture has not passed under the literary influence of
the Old and New Testament. The Bible is a rich mine of
literary thought and illustration. It abounds with the most ex-
quisite poetic ideas and the grandest imagery. For massive
simplicity of style it can never be excelled. No mere human
intelligence has ever approached the first verse of Genesis in
stating facts of a sublime character. No Homer or Milton in
their loftiest flights ever equalled the splendor of Nahum, who,
speaking of the clouds, describes them as the dust of God's
feet. The reading of the Scriptures uniformly tends to assist
in the formation of style ; while many of the noblest writers
confess their indebtedness to the Old and New Testaments.
It offers most invaluable lessons to all who appreciate clearness,
simplicity, and force, and who, in bringing home charges to the
individual conscience, desire to know how to say, " Thou art
the Man." Joel's discourse has been likened to a rapid,
sprightly stream flowing along a delightful plain ; Osee being
a water-fall plunging down over rocks and ridges. Isaias is a
mass of water " rolling heavily." Ezechiel is described as a
gigantic appearance, a spiritual Samson. Passing over to the
New Testament, we find competent critics declaring that St.
Peter's discourse at Pentecost excels Cicero's oration against
Catiline, while St. Paul stands on a higher level at Mar's Hill
than Demosthenes in his oration on the Crown. No oratory
was ever so effective as that of Pentecost reported in the New
Testament. Where outside of the Bible do we find such an
exquisite idyl as that of Ruth, a parable of such literary in-
terest .as that of Jotham, when the trees went forth to choose

1900.] AND HOMES OF THE PEOPLE. 755

a king, or the tenderness and pathos of the Prodigal Son ?
How could one compare any of the boasted letters of classical
antiquity with the exquisite exhibition of friendship and love
in the Epistles ? One who has wandered far and wide in
Palestine, who has mused on the Mount of Olives, watched in
the starlight at the Jordan, scaled Lebanon amid its tumbling
cataracts rushing to pour into Abanor a tide better than all
the waters of Israel, and sailed on the Sea of Galilee, along
the towns and villages of old Judean days, journeying every.
where with the Bible in his hand as companion and guide,
need not be told how true, how invaluable are the pictures of
life, manners, customs, and scenery so graphically portrayed
by the Sacred Writers, each of whom might be credited with
the trained touch of St. Luke's artist hand. The literature that
is all uninfluenced by " the Divine Library " may know the sweet
influences of the Pleiades in vain. The Bible is a blessing and
an education.

We must turn, however, to glance at the place of the Bible
in the Home. We may learn its true place by the efforts
already referred to and which the Church has made to estab-
lish the Word of God in the Family. Whoever has any
doubts on this subject may again be invited to inquire into the
history of the Bible in the Catholic Church. From the days
before the invention of printing, when Bibles were chained to
pillars of churches, down to the present day, though properly
guarding the Word with especial care in perilous times, the
Church has always encouraged the proper use of the sacred
volume among all classes ; though no invitation was ever given
to the ignorant to expound the Word to their own destruction.
As an example, take the Letter of Pius VI. addressed, in 1778,
to the Archbishop of Florence, thanking him for sending out
an edition of the Bible in the Italian tongue for the free use
of the people. He tells the translator :

"You judge exceedingly well, that the faithful should be
excited to the reading of the Holy Scriptures ; for these are
the most abundant sources, which should be left open to every
one, to draw from them purity of morals and of doctrine, to
eradicate the errors which are so widely disseminated in these
corrupt times. This you have seasonably effected, as you de-
clare, by publishing the Sacred Writings in the language of
your country, suitable to every one's capacity."

He adds:

"You have not swerved either from the laws of the Con-

756 THE BIBLE IN THE LIFE OF THE PEOPLE. [Sept.,

gregations of the Index, or from the Constitution published on
this subject by Benedict XIV."

This action of Pius VI. truly represents the mind of the
Church ; and, in addition to the encouragement given by Leo
XIII., in 1893, for studying the Scriptures, by a special Indul-
gence of December 13, 1898, he grants to all Catholics who
spend at least fifteen minutes daily in reading an approved
edition of the Bible an Indulgence of three hundred days, and
to those who are faithful to this practice for a month, a plen-
ary Indulgence, on the usual conditions of going to Confession
and Communion and praying for the Pope's intention.

The Catholic may, therefore, find a pathway to Heaven
through the pages of 'the Bible, which should be the book of
his best moments ; a holy book that doubt never dimmed or
controversy soiled. Every chapter read should prove a rich
means of grace, and a waymark of progress in holiness.

It was at a very early period of life that the writer, then
a reader of The Pilot, saw the true place of the Bible in the
Catholic family. The Bishop of Boston was careful to recom-
mend the Bible for every household. Later, among the hills
of Berkshire, he found a beautiful example of the Bible in the
Catholic family, when he saw a devout old countryman regu-
larly calling his household to the evening devotions. A plain,
hardworking but God-fearing man was this old countryman,
with his deep, rich voice and strong but harmonious brogue.
A simple mantel, adorned with the picture of the Virgin and
a pair of candles, served as altar. Seated in his arm-chair,
patriarch and priest, he received the great clasped quarto,
reverently brought and laid in arms weary with the labor of
the day, yet at the touch of the Book gaining new strength
from Him who said, " My burden is light." The volume was
carefully opened at the place, and the day's lesson read to an
attentive and devout circle, in tones that floated out through
the open window, falling upon the ears of neighbors who were
Protestant at the polls, but godless in the family circle. Next
a prayer was said, a hymn sung, aad then the toilers soon re-
tired for the night, resting securely, " under the shadow of the
Almighty," fitly symbolized by the shade of grand old Mount
Graylock, dominating northern Berkshire. Here, all unknown,
from the wilds of Kerry, dwelt a humble Catholic family, daily
exhibiting the type of what every Catholic family in America
should be. It was a picture worthy of some great artist, show-
ing the Place of the Bible in the Catholic Church.

1900.] THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. 757

THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA.

BY B. NASH-O'CONNOR.

HE colonel's regiment was under marching orders
to the front. There was the blare of martial
music and the glitter of pageantry, but the
parting hour had come, the last words were
being said.

There were tears, and there were sighs,
Broken laughter heart good-bys.

" Remember you are soldier-women," some one had said ;
" so be brave as soldier-women should be."

" Aye, a country is not worth the calling if it is not worth
the fighting for," the gallant colonel added ; " and its soldiers
are its men and women," he continued.

There were dusky cheeks and pale brows consecrated at
this hour when hearts were throbbing and words were voice-
less.

" But when one has no courage left, how may one be brave ? "
cried the colonel's wife. " I know there are all the others, but
theirs are theirs to joy or sorrow, and mine is mine," she con-
tinued.

Oh, the misery of it all !

The colonel's words were lost in the last embrace as he
hurried away with eyes dimmed and heart overfull of sorrow.

The colonel's command was to join Doniphan's division in
its dread march over the country then belonging to Mexico.
Over an arid soil of dry alkali dust, cursed with drought no
vegetation, forest, or shrub to ease the miles that lay between
the post and the nearest point of coalition with Scott's army
trooped these rugged soldier-men.

All the hardships of this active campaign of invasion were
brooded over by those who waited.

The days and months dragged themselves slowly on with
the colonel's soldier-wife. Victories there were ; which was
well. At what loss? was the soldier-woman's concern.

But to the colonel no hours of delay nor despair came, for
these months had been hastily consumed in reaching the scene
of action, where the colonel's command was in the brunt of

75$ THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. [Sept.,

attack with the forces forging south in triumph, piling victory
upon victory, till to reduce or capture the great capital city
of Mexico was all that remained for the American army to
accomplish. And it was on an afternoon in mid-September,
1847, when the great issue was to be decided.

The invading army was intrenched without the city's wall ;
its living tentacles spreading out on all sides in watchful array,
awaiting the ending of the three days' armistice asked for by
Santa Anna. The hours grew burdensome as the last mo-
ments sped on and no result seemed to be reached on this,
the third day. The sun's heat poured down on the sweltering
men as they sought shade from any promising quarter while
the earth baked under their feet. Out over the brown reaches
the cacti held strong arms aloft, and bleached more colorless
as the hot rays feasted on their thorny points. Flowers of the
hills and valleys hid their heads in the dried sward, or died
outright on its breast, so fierce was the spasm of fire. The
earth in seams opened wide as if to bury its scorching foe
within its bosom. The grass spears forgot to live, and clung
to roots in seared heaps. Animal and man were alike dis-
traught. Only the lilt of insect or buzz of bee gave a thought
of life still stirring ; all else was parched in the toils of burn-
ing misery on this memorable afternoon.

Within the city's gates the air was heavy with a suppressed
action that could be felt through the dense heat that pressed
down on the dry earth. But at the Presidio all was teeming
with stir and bustle. Affairs were assuming a readiness that
suggested immediate action. As one or another worker was
stricken with the overpowering atmosphere, others arose to the
tasks, who in their turn succumbed to the oppressive heat.

Still the sun swung on in his blazing course till his mid-
day life was spent. Then in his merciless joy, conscious that
all things animate and inanimate had bowed to his resistless
power, he drew a mantle of clouds airily about him, and with
measured dignity crept slowly down the western horizon, till
in the plenitude of one day's labor he resigned himself to
other fields where again his life wound on.

The people, sheltered within the thick adobe walls of their
low, rambling buildings, lived the day in peaceful ignorance ;
was not the great Santa Anna, their idol warrior, there with
them? So the time honored siesta hour slipped on in dream-
ful enjoyment, laying no burden on the sleeper who was a
stranger to wisdom.

1900.] THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. 759

It was so in one of the more pretentious homes whose white
walls glistened in the sunlight, and whose square court was
green with foliage and vines that twisted their way in weighty
profusion along the corridor walls, and climbed overhead to
shade the inclosure from all but the spicy atmosphere exhaled
from flower and shrub that rioted in full blossom.

A low bench rested in the shade, and there seated, la Sefi-
ora Serra spoke in the soft tones of the southern tongue.

" I go now," she said, " and will not trouble about thee again ;
but I will tell thee," she added, arising, "it be not well to
loiter from tfiy madre's casa when the devils there may be
everywhere."

" But I only go at sundown, madre mia," said Estella Rosa,
" to ask that Don Pedro be made well of his malady."

" And what do you that you should be heard ? think you
not of that?" asked the mother.

" A regina and rosary always," answered the daughter, " be-
sides a lighted candle for nine days before the Mater Purissi-
ma ; is it not enough ? "

" Think you so ? Not I. I should quicker give that I should
be the better heard," answered la sefiora, closing the slatted
blinds of the windows facing on the corridors to exclude any
ray of sunlight that might find its way within.

"Ah! madrecita, think'st thou I should go empty of hand
and full only of heart to the Mater Purissima ? Not so. I ask
my favor without good grace of gift ? Not so again. What
shouldst I give but only my best offering ? Canst thou tell what
'tis ? " asked the daughter smiling.

" Steh ! I am not of the angels," said the mother.

" Well, thou shalt know," answered the girl. " My prayer
goes with that which cost me hours and days of labor, when I
should like better to dance to the chords of Josh's lute, or to
listen to his song of 1 " her words tripped " to the song of
glory," she finished ; " for thou must know, madre, Josh's voice
is one of glory."

" But thy work of labor what may such be ? The plaiting
of thy hair is labor for thee. Is 't that thou say'st ? Maybe
no. Tis thy labor to listen to Miguel tell of his sheep and
oxen and herds on the ranches beyond the hills of Chapultepec
when thy brazen feet would carry thee away. Is 't so you
mean ? no."

" Tsch ! madre, why prattle so of nothing ? Repose thee for
siesta. I too take mine now ; and lest thy dreams be silly,

760 THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. [Sept.,

madre cariciosa," she added, " I tell thee I shall offer the
Mater Purissima my finest wrought image of Jesu where his
face dwells among the stars and roses of drawn threads.
Thou must mind thee of the stuff the padre brought from
afar; it was woven across the seas, and quite melts in one's
hands, so fine, so very fine its meshes."

"It should be well so," called la seftora from her reclin-
ing couch. " And see that thou hast done thy work well,
that no thread be wrongly drawn * the least hair makes a
shadow* that no miscount there be, or thy prayer works not
well ; nay, works but wrong to thee and all belonging to thy
casa. If all be not perfect in thy gift, thy madre is in no
mind to be called to reckoning for thy waywardness, thou
rash one. Tsch ! the thought near wakes me from rriy rest.
Here, thou Agreda, come with thy fan, or I die with the
fury of no breeze blowing, not a leaf stirring its face. The
buen Dios means it well, maybe, but why make one suffer
pangs? Cui bono?" Thus la seflora continued her mutter-
ings of censure till quieted at last by force of habit, which
at this hour for years had been to repose both body and mind,
while old Agreda, bent over with weight of years, took her
lowly place beside la seflora, seating herself on the floor, with
knees within easy resting place for her aged, wrinkled chin,
and beat to and fro the palm-leaf fan, that her mistress might
know no more of the discomforts than possible.

Thus la seflora and la seflorita separated for the afternoon
hours, that were, pulsing in the heat which overtakes the days
in southern Mexico during odd seasons of summer and early
fall.

Scarce had the hours died away in the coolness of the
setting sun before Estella Rosa, dressed in the degree of
costume suitable to her birth, with head and shoulders clouded
in softest lace mantilla, and toying in her hands a folded fan,
ventured forth from her mother's casa.

She had chosen this hour as one when few frequented the
church which she was on her way to visit. It was her wish
that her mission might be secretly performed, but before she
had crossed the plaza facing her home she heard her name
called in melodious tones by Jose* he of the glorious voice.

" Where goest thou, Rosita mia ? " he asked, catching her
gait and accompanying her.

"Where shouldst I at this hour," she replied, "if not to
some good place? "

I90D.] THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. 761

" Always so, caricia. Dost thy madre know thy absence?"
he continued.

"How canst thou ask such?" she replied petulantly.

" Dost thou not know there is fear abroad?"

" Well, if that is why thou askest, I will tell thee; I go to
the Mater Purissima to ask for "

He did not let her finish. ".Ah ! hermosa Rosa, to ask
something for thy Jos6 ? no. Thou wouldst say such " ; and he
carolled a laugh that the choirs might hearken to.

"Conceited one! a lariat about thy tongue would service
thee much abroad." But her severe attitude did not abash
Jos, for he continued :

" What wouldst thou ? That I be dumb to thee, amor mia,
and not sing thee my love, nor tell thee my heart ? "

" Tsch ! ever thyself. Canst not think of other things? I
go to offer for Don Pedro and to crown my novena to the
Mater Purissima."

" And I go with thee, cariciosa ? no, to say a regina, or
troll a stabat, that the Virgo hear thee more quick ? " he
persisted.

They had now reached the church and entered it together.

There were benches and seats scattered here and there ; but
the vast body of the building was open for the worship of the
faithful, who knelt during the services on the bare flagged
surface, when not standing at the Gospel and Credo. A few
there were who rested themselves by making of their heels a
seat, or with knees raised to their chins, in primitive fashion,
sitting on the stone flags and clasping hands about them, thus
resting well and picturesquely.

There were a few devout ones kneeling about, telling their
beads, or prostrate before a station doing penance for past
misdeeds. The sanctuary lamp, as ever, burned low ; a few
tapers did homage to the St. Joseph's and Virgin's altars. No
sound entered the spacious precinct ; and nothing but the click,
click of the slipping rosary past the fingers of some faithful
ones or the low murmur of prayer broke the calmness of the
evening hour.

Estella Rosa and her young lover made their genuflexion
and, reaching for the holy-water font, crossed their bosoms
devoutly, then proceeded to the altar of the Virgin.

There rested the beautiful statue of the Mater Purissima
mother most pure. It was carved in ivory and of exquisite
workmanship. The features were of beatific mould ; and in

762 THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. [Sept.,

chastest grace of pose the figure stood draped as only a
master-hand might chisel. A crown of gold studded with
gems formed a glittering aureole about the head, and gleamed
in the semi-darkness fast gathering throughout the great
edifice.

About the shoulders, and sweeping to the feet of the statue,
there falling in voluminous folds, was a mantle of sumptuous
beauty, which had been the gift of some long forgotten grandee,
who to celebrate his conquests had generously bestowed of his
reprisals. It was the admiration and pride of the faithful, and
thought worthy to clothe the statue of the Virgin they devout-
ly loved. Gems rich and rare were encrusted in its borders
and it shone like a sheath of molten gold, with jewel stars
sparkling forth their prismatic hues when caught by the slight-
est glint of light. It was held together above the Virgin's
breast with huge clasps, weighted with precious stones of great
size and brilliancy. Whatever feelings of cupidity the sight of
these valuables may have raised in the minds of the beholders,
the reverence for sacred things quite overcame them at their
inception, 1 if any such existed.

After the young pair had offered their devotions together
at the rail, Jose" arose and retired to a distance, hoping Estella
Rosa might soon be ready to follow. Instead, when she had
finished her petitions, she entered beyond the railing, and,
reaching the altar steps, ascended to the feet of the statue.
Reaching to her fullest height, she dextrously twined the
beautiful scarf she had brought as offering around the Virgin's
outstretched hand, and, carrying it across, draped it over the
other one, letting both ends sweep to the feet of the statue
and there intermingle in the fulness of the robe.

Finishing her task, she stepped back to gain a view of the
effect, and while lost in the intricacies of her thoughts was
startled by a terrific noise, echoing with the chiming of the
Angelus bell ringing its evening call.

" Boom ! boom ! " broke forth from the commingling.

" Jesu, miserere nobis ! " she screamed, falling where she
stood but a moment before.

"Boom! boom!" and she buried her face in her hands.
"Sancta Maria!" she cried. Her words were lost in the up-
roar without.

She believed the world had come to an ending, or that the
earth had burst its bonds and was about to swallow all mortal
things in its gaps.

1 9oa] THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA, 763

" Boom ! boom ! " again resounded.

Jos6 had at last realized the calamity, and rushing to her
side clasped her in his arms and whispered to her dulled ear :
"It is el Americanos! el Americanos!" His cheek was paled,
but his eyes showed a steady light, while his voice thrilled but
with firmness.

/ " Stay thee here^ mia ; do not venture out," he hastily said.
" Mater Purissima will care for thee while I go con Dios ! "

" But where goest thou ? " she tremblingly asked, still cling-
ing to him.

" I go to defend the gates with others against el Ameri-
canos," he replied.

" But were we not to have peace ? " she asked.

" Caricia mio, it must first be bought with warm blood,
knowest thou not that ? " he answered.

" Buen Dios ! " she gasped. Then Jos6, loosening her grasp,
hastily fled from the church, while Estella Rosa, unnerved by
the still resounding crashes of cannonading, fell again in a
helpless heap at the altar steps.

How long she remained thus prostrated with fear she did
not seem to realize, when, hearing the confusion of strife and
the crying of many voices, she awakened from the stupor of
fear and, looking around, beheld a surging concourse maddened
to frenzy, as a body of belligerents pushed its way forward,
slashing from side to side among the multitude now defending
the portals of the church.

Already one gate of the city had been taken, and at once
entered the vandals, brigands and rurales, which in that
country attach themselves to a moving army. They had started
on their carousal of pillage, looting, and depredations, and
were now slashing their way into the sanctuary of the church
of Mater Purissima. It was the nearest point of interest en-
countered, and the sacrilege was not within human power to
prevent.

Estella Rosa at one backward glance saw the fierce banditti
magnify into a crowd of blasphemous, cursing creatures, finding
its way by the dim lights of the altar tapers ; in straggling
groups spreading out on all sides and coming nearer at every
move. In a passion of dread she flew back past the altar,
through the sacristy door at a bound, out into the open air,
and crossing her breast, begging Heaven for protection, she
sped across the roads and paths to her home.

The detonations still resounded from afar outside the city's

764 THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. [Sept.,

walls, and spoke of the work once begun still going on. The
American army had grown impatient of the delay, and fresh
from the triumphs at Matamoras, Palo Alto, Resaca de la
Palma, Vera Cruz, Churubusco, Chapultepec, they were still a
generous foe ; but when the time arrived for the conclusion
of the armistice, and no treaty was offered, the bombardment
began.

The attack was as relentless as ever attack had been, for
it was soon realized that the interim of delay had been utilized
by Santa Anna and his men in raising defences and strengthen,
ing fortifications.

War was now unleashed. The Stars and Stripes of the
American nation carried their message of victory into the very
heart of Old Mexico. Treachery would now receive its chas-
tisement at the hands of an honorable enemy.

War is war. Fast and furious was the charge. The invading
army, that had tramped the dreary waste of arid lands, that
had rested tired limbs on bed of stubble cacti, that fretted the
plains across the dry deserts ; the weary men who had plodded
thousands of miles through the blistering discomforts of a
summer's campaign, were now striking doubly vengeful.

The defences soon began to waver ; the ramparts once
taken, with an onrushing no human power could withstand
General Worth captured the first gate ; and so it happened
goon within the walls of the beautiful capital city of Mexico
that Americano and Mexicano were alike commingled.

Night, the soother of many ills, stole on apace, and soon
darkness covered enemy and foe alike.

In front of the ramparts the invading army stretched its
tired limbs on the dewy slopes outside the walls, while strong
bodies held guard over the captured entrance. On their
victorious arms they slept peacefully, not knowing what the
awakening might mean death or life.

So crept the hours till the stars began to hide their heads
and let the morn arise. Then again arose the din and roar of
attack and clash of defence. Horror was rife again, and the
wages of war were fast telling the dues in blood and limb
and life, as ever war must.

When Estella Rosa gained her mother's home she was
faint from her exertion. She found her way to la sefiora's
side and beheld her prostrate before her saint's image, which
was surrounded by blazing candles in full profusion. Her

1900.] THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. 765

apparel was disarranged, and her tortoise comb that always
fastened her hair had fallen away, so the coils of hair were
hanging undone about her shoulders. The numerous servants
made no effort to restrain their outcries, and paid little heed
to the distress of their mistress, and fleeing hither and thither
with lighted candles in their hands, but added to the pande-
monium.

As la Seflora Serra slowly comprehended that Estella Rosa
was near her, she raised her voice in anger.

" What is this trouble thou hast brought upon us, thou
upstart one ?"

" I bring trouble, madrecita what shouldst thou say ? " re-
plied la seflorita.

" Didst thou not take to the Virgin some offering of poor
worth? no; and has she not scorned thee and it? Steh !
such trouble to bring down for thy pride, I tell thee,
stupida!"

" Madre mia, thy tongue runs wild between thy teeth.
Canst thou not stop it before thy words hurt me or thee ? "
softly pleaded Estella Rosa.

" Untaught one, the devils go with thee having the earth
rock under my very feet, for all of thy doing"; wherewith la
sefiora grasped a candlestick near by and, with its lighted
wax, hurled it close to Estella. For a moment it seemed to
strike her, but turning quickly she avoided the blow. Her
face all a-startle as another wave of cannonading resounded on
their ears, she cried : " Knowest thou not it is el Americanos
who have come, and " but all else was lost on la sefiora's
senses for a few moments.

" Buen Dios, be merciful ! " at last she exclaimed. " I will
give of my sheep many, aye, one-half, and of my wine
that is in the press many pig-skins, if I be but spared, Dios,"
she prayed fervently, throwing herself again on her knees.

Then, as the din again arose, she called loudly : " Agreda,
Agreda, thou old saint, carry thee my mantilla, that I may be
well to look at when I am butchered by the foul fiends, el
Americanos " saying which, through utter exhaustion, la
sefiora became listless, and calmly awaited her supposed doom,
while the old servant hobbled obediently away to do the bid-
bing of her mistress.

By this time the people of the household, supplicating each
the patronage of his favorite saint, had changed the atmosphere
of fear and chaos into one of serenity by their prayers, and a

;66 THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. [Sept.,

serious tranquillity seemed to displace the past few hours of
terror and noise.

Estella Rosa tremulously approached her mother and said :
" Madre mia, Jos is of the many that are out to night, and
my heart is pained for him. Let us ask the Virgo to spread
her mantle over him and keep all harm away."

" It is well," answered la sefiora, " to pray ; but it is of
profit to give also. I give one pig-skin more, Dios, that
Jos be spared " ; and so saying the poor overwrought brain of
this ignorant sefiora, filled with a belief that oddly confused
her supplications with a value in material kind, was mercifully
overcome by sleep.

As the battle outside subsided soon, la sefiora was followed
by her household of dependents, who gave way to their fatigue
and slumbered where they fell.

For hours seemingly Jos had been in the midst of the
battle, sturdily defending the entrance to the city.

As the walls were scaled by the enemy they were driven
back from their post of vantage by the gallant defenders.
When battering rams did their deadly work and opened seams
in the masonry, the apertures ( were guarded by bayonet and
shell. Faithfully and well was the carnival of blood carried
forward by both forces, till superior skill and dashing bravery
took the ramparts and, driving back the defending patriots,
captured the first gate.

It was then Jos recalled Estella Rosa as he left her stricken
at the altar steps, and, seeing scattering soldiery winding their
way along the byways back through the city, he with diffi-
culty tried to gain his way to the church of the Mater Puris-
sima.

When he neared the sacred edifice his heart was stricken
with a great fear. He heard the clash and rattle of conflict
at the very portals, for the humble natives in the district, at
the unwonted sounds of musketry and artillery, flocked in
droves to the protection of the church, and there ensconced
resented the sacrilege of its capture and entrance by the out-
laws now forcing their way into its sacred confines.

Perceiving at a glance the progress so far made by the in-
truders, Jos rushed to the front on witnessing the advance
towards the Virgin's altar. But he was too late to stay the
hand of the desecrator.

Already the leader, riding his horse forward to the rail,

1900.] THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. 767

leaped it with a bound, and reaching over to the Virgin's
mantle, unfastened it ; then, raising it aloft on the point of his
sword, turned his charger's head towards the doors.

Without an instant's warning Jose struck the sword from
out the upraised hand, and for a brief moment clasped the
Virgin's robe in a firm grip ; but the next moment he lay
prone on the ground with a wound across the forehead and
loosed his hold upon his prize. Soon he revived and struggled
to again regain the precious robe, but another well aimed
blow and he fell reeling under the feet of the maddened
crowd, while the robe of Mater Purissima disappeared as if
by magic. So the ivory statue of the Virgin stood clothed
only in its chiselled drapery and the swaying folds of Estella
Rosa's offering.

And now the war was over. The American army returned
to the Rio Grande to cross its banks, that they rriight again be
on their native soil. The war just concluded proclaimed it so,
and the maps ever since record it so.

It was at this point the army men bethought them of other
things than battles, victories, or defeats. It was now they
welcomed the sweet restfulness of peace, and breathed deep
and well in the assurance of having bowed to duty's call. But
as they turned their faces homeward their thoughts were
carried back to the comrades left behind sleeping where they
fell ; human tributes strewn plentifully about, sanctifying the
spots where lives went out.

It was a time of solemn sadness to the surviving army,
and . a chorus of subdued prayer, often formed in unwonted
phrase, went above to ease the soldier-heart at his loss.

The good colonel was among those who were spared, and
his kindly heart desired to carry to his soldier-wife some trifles
as mementoes of this beautiful land, abounding in blessings.
So he looked about him for suitable tributes. A measure full
of jewels was selected ; opals, rubies, sapphires, turquois,
emeralds, brilliants, garnets, all shone together in a heap of
dazzling splendor enough to ransom a princess ; and all the
products of the native mines.

Still there were other things to be had here at the boundary
line, where a small army of dealers had ensconced themselves,
awaiting the passing of el Americanos. So things in silver
and gold filigree, and of tortoise shell and ivory, were added
to the souvenirs. Still it seemed more was to come and in

768 THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. [Sept.,

unbidden fashion ; for early -one morning the colonel was ac-
costed by a voice, which at first startled him, as he was within
his tent scarce ready for the advent of a visitor. A dusky
head intruded itself between the flaps of the colonel's tent,
and soon the fellow was making his obeisance.

" Servidor de V. buen amor, I offer thee, for little silver,
things of beauty, for la seftora may be, no or la sefiorita."

" I will but kiss thy feet shouldst thou take," he proceeded,
as he unloaded his bundles from under the scrape worn about
his person.

" Serenisimo maestro, I will show thee a trophy of great
worth. It is to thee who can buy I come, for" and lowering
his voice to a confidential whisper, he continued " I saw with
my own eyes el Americano capture it."

He had said a few words too many, unfortunately for
him. The matter appeared in an atrocious light to the
colonel.

"An American soldier captured this trophy, and you dare
tell me, an American commander, that you have it for sale ? "
And firmly grasping the fellow by the collar, he shook him
hither and thither, administering with his boots prods that fel
where they hurt the most.

" Now, whatever trophy you have, leave it in this camp, and
ride your broncho as fast as the wind out of it ; or if it be your
heels, take to them ; ten minutes more in this place, and your
life will pay the penalty, for at daybreak you shall be shot by
my orders," said the colonel in most severe tones and relaxing
his hold.

"For amor de Dios ! " the intruder cried. "It is- well I
take my head also," he added.

This episode caused the good colonel to pace to and fro in
his small confines, fuming and sputtering words that men some-
times use ; and exercising on various impedimenta that his feet
stumbled against till his eyes rested on the package that lay
at the farthest end of his tent. It was in process -of being
unfastened when its owner fled, so the colonel drew it towards
him as he took a seat on the nearest camp stool, and proceeded
to loosen the restraining cords.

He expected to unfold the flag or colors of the vanquished
foe, or some similar ensign; but he was in no way prepared
to see the actual contents of the bundle, for as it unrolled
before his gaze his wonder was beyond expression for a few
minutes. At last he said : " Bless my soul and boots ! what

1900.] THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. 769

have I here ? This is no flag the scoundrel had." And the
colonel turned the thing around the better to view it.

"Great Scott!" he continued, puzzling over the affair, "it
looks like something or other." Then a bright thought came
to his rescue. " To be sure it is ; my stars ! of course it is ;
odd I couldn't see it before," he continued. Then, being sat-
isfied, he started, whistling, as men ever will do under any
provocation. "Some sweet seftorita's gown," he mused (why
not some demure sefiora's, I cannot say). " But where did the
fellow how the - did he come by it ? " he asked. " Stole
it ! By gum ! stole it, as sure as snakes," he decided.

With which thought uppermost in his mind the colonel left
his tent hurriedly to scan the horizon for the retreating form
of the late possessor of the questionable article. His expert
enced eye quickly told him many miles lay between them, for
the broncho and his rider lost no time.

After satisfying himself as to that fact, the colonel again
re-entered his tent, and more deliberately decided the article
was some royal robe, for it dazzled in its many folds with
sparkling threads of jewels, and its golden sheen stood out
magnificently against the barbaric surroundings of the colonel's
tent.

It was in this way the good colonel was possessed of a
piece of finery that was finally laid away among the gifts for
his soldier-wife, to whom he was marching homeward on the
wings of happiness. Again there would be blare of martial
music and glitter of pageantry. The ranks would be closed to
shut out the spectres that ever accompany the returning troops.
In vain would loving eyes run down the lines, looking for well-
known faces. Empty arms would dangle by the sides for loss
of loving form to clasp, and

There would be tears,

There would be sighs,
Broken laughter

And woman's cries.

The colonel's soldier-wife had dragged her life along for
months of suspense, till at last hope had died within her, and,
frail at best, she finally succumbed to illness that brought
despair with it. It mattered not what wealth of treasure or love
was given her now ; victory had brought its last glory and de-
feat its last pain. All meant so little now, as the great con-
VOL. LXXI. 49

770 THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. [Sept.,

queror of all things was drawing near, almost keeping step with
her returning hero.

The good old colonel scarcely reached home in time to bare
his head as the great commander Death approached.

It was a sad home-coming! No breaking of the news to
him before he reached his home, to soften the severity of the
blow. Standing beside the bier of his nation's dead, he was
with others in his grief ; but now he must weep alone.

In words of endearment he pleaded the wavering spirit not
to hasten from him. He scattered broadcast around the calm
presence the loving tokens he had sought out hoping some
rainbow tint might awaken sight to their glory ; but her eyes
would not feast on this lordly gift, nor turn to him in recog-
nition.

His poor starved love begged but a word ; a look for ever
so brief 'a time, to spare an eternity of longing.

What paths hope leads to !

The colonel again bethought him of the other trinket gifts,
and trusting they might hold some charm to win back life,
showered them in full profusion ; but they carried no message
of life.

Sadly this grim old warrior thought of the bitter battles
fought ; and slowly he realized 'twas only now he was called
upon to resist a foe he could not vanquish. He knelt beside
his dying one, and bowed his head and wept as only strong
men do. What matter glory and blazonry of war to soldier-
man or soldier-woman now? Still hope dallied and the colonel's
heart was the toy. His stricken soul would yet stay death. In
delirium of despair he would once again cried " Halt ! " to the
advancing enemy.

So this bronzed soldier, with hands used only to steel
trappings, shook forth the folds of the jewelled golden trophy,
the one gift still remaining unoffered. He swayed its mazy
fulness about, hoping the rustling texture might draw a sigh or
smile from the closed lips.

Slowly and with no premonition the tarrying spirit took
heart. > The dying woman opened her eyes, then calmly raised
them. She lifted her head from off the pillow, and gazed long
and steadfastly at the thing of beauty before her. She touched
its hem, and a sweet smile spread over her features. Then,
in clear accents, she spoke in a tone of command that could
not be forgotten :

" Tff the Church of Mater Purissima give back this Blessed

1 900.] THE ROBE OF MATER PURISSIMA. 771

Virgin s Robe ! " the first words uttered by the mute lips ;
the first thought framed by an unconscious mind for days and
days. Finished speaking, her head fell back to its resting
place and she slept on.

So Death dropped his scythe and passed on, forgetting to
mow down the trembling reed that but a moment before im-
peded his way, and the old hero of living battles was again a
hero who defied the great chief in his own camping ground.

With small hand clasped in the iron grip of her soldier-
lord, the soldier-woman was wooed through the dreamland of
repose by a force all compelling, and strengthened by some
mysterious benediction.

And so again it happened that joy was supreme one sum-
mer day when all the populace turned out to participate in the
feast of the Mater Purissima.

With lighted candles the procession traversed the streets
and, entering the church, told their rosaries in fervent tones
before the ivory statue of the Virgin Mother, who was again
adorned beneath the golden rays of her beauteous robe. And
to this day it is told how the robe of Mater Purissima came
back on angel wings, that no mortal hand was known to clasp
it on the Virgin's breast.

Be that as it may, there it is to-day, shrouding the Mater
Purissima in its folds ; and there too is the scarf now turned
yellow with its years that on one memorable day in history
was the offering of sweet Sefiorita Estella Rosa she of la
casa Serra, who afterwards was espoused to the brave Jose
he of the glorious voice.

7,72

A MEDIAEVAL MAGDALEN.

[Sept.,

A MEDI/EVAL MAGDALEN.

BY CONTESSA F. GAUTIER.

" From where Cortona lifts to heaven
Her diadem of towers."

:T has been contested by critics that Macaulay was
no real poet, and it may well be that his reputa-
tion as the most brilliant English " prosateur " of
our century is sufficient for his fame ; but what-
ever may be the opinion as to the poetical
quality of the "Lays 'of Ancient Rome," there can be no
doubt as to the extraordinary accuracy and aptitude with
which their author seized, and in a couple of lines described,
the picturesque or salient features of the places where he
passed or paused, as in the pre-rail\vay days he travelled in
the pleasant, lazy, vetturino-fashion, under

" Ausonia's blue and sunny sky."

, Those days, not so long past, but seeming so very far
away, when there were no trains to catch, no vulgar crowd, or
flurry ; when one stopped at all sorts of quaint, out-of-the-way
places, and took " pot-luck " (sometimes, indeed, far from good
pot-luck), and it was possible to linger lazily through a land in
which it seemed " always afternoon." But in spite of all the
changes in travelling since Macaulay's time, his descriptions
still hold good : still do the juices of the purple Tuscan
grapes foam into "the vats of Luna"; still stands "the far-
famed hold " of lordly Volaterra ; the traveller through
Umbria may still see the beautiful white oxen grazing by the
pellucid springs of the Clitumnus ; and if there are no longer
any stags on Monte Ciminio, there are plenty of water-fowl still
dipping in the waters of the lovely lake of Bolsena, while the
travellers who pass Cortona on the much-frequented main line
between Florence and Rome will recognize the wonderful ex-
actness of the description of the position of the town in the
lines which head this article.

The railway runs at the foot of the hill on which the
city stands proudly, as if conscious of her claims to the re-
motest antiquity, for it is asserted that a prince of Cortcna,
when* travelling to Phrygia, founded the famous city of

1900.]

A MEDIEVAL MAGDALEN.

773

THE MUSE OF CORTONA WAS AT FIRST MISTAKEN FOR A REPRESENTATION OF THE

MADONNA.

Troy, and became the ancestor of the " pious
who centuries afterwards was to return to the country of
his forefathers. However this may be, there can be no
doubt as to the real antiquity of Cortona. It was one of the
twelve great cities of the Etruscans, but was probably founded
long before that enigmatic and mysterious people arrived from

774 ^ MEDIAEVAL MAGDALEN. [Sept.,

their Asiatic home, by the still more ancient race of the
Pelasgians. The tomb misnamed the " Cave of Pythagoras,"
owing to a confusion between Cortona and Crotona in Magna
Grecia, where the celebrated Greek philosopher lived and
taught, may belong to the Pelasgic age. In construction it re-
sembles the cromlechs of Northern Europe, and it stands like
a miniature Stonehenge at the end of an avenue of funereal
cypresses, whose dark green foliage contrasts with the gray of
the ancient monolithic stones, which, though in many parts
fallen from their original position, still retain their sharp-cut
edges, as if fresh from the mason's hand which has been dust
for countless centuries. This tomb, Mr.' Dennis, the great
authority on Etruscan antiquities, considers " coeval with the
walls of Cortona," which are ancient among the most ancient
of the so-called Pelasgic walls, constructed of great irregular
blocks of stone, put together without cement, but so closely
fitted that not even the blade of a knife could be introduced
between them. Such walls are found in many of the old cities
of central Italy, but few are more perfect than those of Cortona,
which in one spot still rise to the height of over one hundred
feet, while the modern walls are raised on the same founda-
tions, and in many places are merely restorations of the old
ones. But venerable as these walls are and Mr. Dennis refers
them to the eighth century B. C. they perhaps only occupy
the site of others which guarded the city when Dardanus left
it, and journeyed as far as the Hellespont, where he founded
a city to which he gave his name, which is mentioned by
Homer in the Iliad, and whose memory still lives in the
modern name of the Dardanelles. He is said to have married
the daughter of Teucer, a chieftain of the province afterwards
know as the Troad, and his sons or grandsons for some un-
certainty is permissible when it is a question of such remote,
if not mythical times Ilus and Tros founded the city which
afterward became famous as Ilium, or Troy. Thus it shows that
Cortona existed before Troy was founded, and, as Mr. Dennis
writes, " such is the ancient legend ; wherefore gainsay it ? "

There is, at least,* no doubt that the Etruscans considered
Cortona a very ancient and important city ; it was even, per-
haps, the metropolis of Etruria, and Etruscan money was all
coined here. Nevertheless, except the magnificent walls, the
tomb already mentioned, and another subterranean one near
the station, there remain but few relics of pagan times, though
the city is mentioned by various classical writers. In the

1900.]

A MEDIEVAL MAGDALEN.

775

museum, however, may be seen many objects which belong to
the Etruscan period of the town, and which bear inscriptions
in that mysterious Etruscan language which no Rosetta Stone
has yet enabled us to decipher. Here is the famous bronze
lamp, unique for its splendid workmanship and singular shape.
It is circular, and is formed of sixteen small lamps united by

CORTONA WAS ONE OF THE TWELVE GREAT CITIES OF THE ETRUSCANS.

richly chiselled ornaments, and quaint designs of harpies and
satyrs, and was evidently intended to be suspended either before
an altar, or above a tomb, as the lower side is more elaborate-
ly ornamented than the upper. The inscription on it includes
the word INSCVIL, which is said to have a dedicatory signification.
In the museum is also to be seen that beautiful picture of
the Muse Polyhymnia, whose style recalls the paintings at
Pompeii, and those portrait-masks which were placed over the
faces of the mummies in the time of the Ptolemies. To this
period probably belongs the Muse of Cortona ; there are the
same almond shaped eyes, the round, full throat and bosom, the
thick, waving hair encircled with a garland of laurel. The
picture is painted on slate, and when it was first found by a
peasant in driving a plough-share, it was regarded as a repre-
sentation of the Madonna, and set in the place of honor with
a little oil lamp lighted before it. Here it was seen by the

776 A MEDIEVAL MAGDALEN. [Sept.,

village priest, who, much scandalized by this usurpation of
divine honors, informed the honest peasants of their mistake,
and the poor pagan beauty was degraded from her honorable
position, and used to stop a broken window-pane until she was
purchased for a small sum by a gentleman of the neighbor-
hood, who presented her to the museum.

The churches of Cortona are of the rococo seventeenth
and eighteenth century style, and save that they contain some
fine pictures by Pier di Cortona and Signorelli (also a native
of the place) are quite uninteresting, with the one exception
of the church of Santa Margherita. To reach it one climbs
up through the precipitous, rain-washed streets, the air becom-
ing fresher and finer at every step, till one emerges on the
breezy platform on which stands the great church, high above
the town indeed, but overtopped by the still loftier crag on
which is perched the ancient ruined fortress. From these
points of vantage the view is enchanting, whether seen through
the pearly mists of morning, or when the setting sun paints
the sky with iridescent hues like a real " pavement of paradise."

Down below is the fertile, smiling Val di Chiana,

"... where sweet Clanis wanders
Through corn and vines and flowers " ;

and away in the distance is " reedy Thrasimene,"

"... her lake a sheet of silver, and her plain
Rent by no ravage save the gentle plough."

To the north-east rise the hills of Arezzo, to the south-
west those of Chiusi and Monte Pulciano ; and it is in this
direction that lies the little village of Laviano, where in 1247
was born the woman whose name was destined to be always
connected with Cortona. Little is known of her family ; there
is even some doubt as to their very name, though Monsignor
Liverani believes that her father was called Bartolomeo Tan-
credi, but singularly enough Padre Bevignati, the saint's con-
fessor and biographer, is silent on most of the domestic details
of her life, and thereby deprives us of so much human interest.
He tells us, however, that her parents were poor but honest
people, and that her mother was remarkable for her goodness
and piety, and it is evident that this example and early teach-
ing were never quite lost, even in the saddest and wildest
moments of her daughter's career. Had this mother lived, who
knows if there might not have been a saint less in the world ?
For she would have guarded Margaret from the misery and

1900.] A MEDIEVAL MAGDALEN. 777

degradation through which it was decreed that she should
pass, and be purified before attaining the celestial heights.

At seven years old the child lost this tender parent, and
two years later her father brought home a new wife, who
proved herself quite the typical step-mother of fairy tale and
legend. The children, for Margaret had a brother Bartholo-
mew, younger than herself, were ill-used and treated like little
slaves, and as Margaret grew up, and grew beautiful, instead
of the sweet companionship and counsels of a mother, she had
neglect and ill-usage at home, and abroad the society of the
village girls and boys, and probably talked with them of love,,
"as youths and maids will do."

At any rate, when she was fifteen, just in all the budding
sweetness of an Italian girlhood, and with the pure and some-
what mystic Tuscan beauty, Margaret met her fate. Her lover
was a young man of noble family from Montepulciano. It is
supposed that he was the son of Guglielmo del Pecora, seig-
neur of Valiano, but her contemporary biographers are very
reticent on this point, probably out of consideration for the
family, which, of course, still existed when they wrote. Her
latest biographer, however, the Pere de Cherance", has satis-
factorily cleared up this point. The young man induced Mar-
garet to accompany him to a country house belonging to his
family, the Villa Palazzi, near Montepulciano, and here they
lived together for nine years. Much allowance must be made
for the unhappy girl : the temptation to escape from her
miserable home, to live with the man she loved, and to whom
she bore a son ; the hope, perhaps, that he would finally marry
her, in spite of the difference of rank ; the luxury and ease of
her surroundings all these circumstances must be considered
and taken into account.

With her strong and loving nature, with her beautiful face
and form, "bearing herself more like a princess than a peas-
ant," we may be sure she both loved and was beloved pas-
sionately. How attached her lover must have been to her is
proved by his living with her for nine years (1264 to 1273)^
and it is very likely that, like King Cophetua, he would have
married this beggar-maid with " so sweet a face, such angel
grace," but for the pride and position of his father, a rich
Guelf lord and a knight of Rhodes. So the two poor
creatures lived on in their fool's paradise ; she admired and
courted, riding on a stately palfrey through the streets of
Montepulciano, richly attired, with a fillet of pearls confining*

778 A MEDIAEVAL MAGDALEN. [Sept.,

her beautiful hair, but still, through all this dream of love and
luxury, hearing from time to time "the still, small voice" of
conscience, so that the sight of a spotless white lily reminded
her of her own lost purity, and the caresses of her child re-
called those of her mother in her own innocent childhood,
before she had lost, as she afterwards said, " honor, dignity,
and peace."

At last came the terrible awakening. One day, in the
spring of 1273, Guglielmo left the Villa Palazzi accompanied
by his favorite dog, which never quitted his side, in order to
visit some neighbors, and to look after a distant part of the
property. Margaret expected him to return in the evening,
and when he did not appear, imagined he was sleeping at his
friends' house. When, however, the next day, and still more
the next night, passed without his returning, she became terri-
bly uneasy, and her anguish and anxiety were driving her
nearly frantic when there suddenly appeared before her her
lover's faithful dog (alas ! that we do not know the name of
the creature). His coat was torn by brambles, he was thin
and footsore, and he crouched at her feet and whined, and
dragged her by her gown. Full of a terrible presentiment, she
sprang up and, trembling in every limb, followed the intelli-
gent creature by field and flood till he led her to a forest,
where .in a secluded glade, hidden by leaves and boughs, she
found the murdered and mangled body of her lover. He had
been waylaid and set upon by robbers, and the faithful dog
had kept him company through all those nights and days till,
despairing of his awakening, he had summoned his mistress.
One can imagine her agony and despair at losing all that
made life dear to her, and to add to her misery, the innate
piety of her early training at once suggested what would be
the fate in the next world of one who had gone to his account
with all his sins upon him, unconfessed and unshriven ! It was
as if something had suddenly snapped in her heart and life.

As soon as she could collect her senses, she dragged her
trembling feet to Montepulciano, where she informed his fam-
ily of the dreadful fate which had befallen her beloved one.
Then she returned to them all the rich gifts he had made her,
and clothing herself in mean and mourning garments, she took
her little son by the hand, and followed, we must believe, by
the faithful dog, she wended her way across the marshes of
the Chiana to her father's house, and falling at his feet said
to him, almost in the same words as that other prodigal :

A MEDIEVAL MAGDALEN.

779

ST. MARGARET, THE PENITENT OF CORTONA.

" Father, I am not now worthy to be called thy daughter :
make me as one of thy hired servants."

Her father, unlike the one in the Gospel, and doubtless im-
pelled by his hard-hearted wife, took her at her word. She
was given the hardest tasks and work, both in the house and

780 A MEDIAEVAL MAGDALEN. [Sept.,

out of it, and was treated in the harshest manner, and spoken
to in the most insulting terms by her step-mother, who at last
one day drove her out of the house with blows and coarse
epithets. She sank down in despair below an olive-tree, and
the spirits of good and evil fought a wild conflict in her soul
for its possession. It seemed as if she heard a voice distinctly
urging her to go back to that world where her beauty would
give her once more a life of luxury, and where at all events
she could live in ease, and not with ill-usage and curses. But
then, again, it seemed to her that another and softer voice
urged her still more strongly, saying : " No, no, Margaret, go
not back; rather bear all this hardship and still more for the
sake of our dear Lord ; endure all insults, all cruelty, debase
thyself to the dust, for thus, and thus only, shalt thou expiate
the past, and do penance for thy sins ; and arise and go up
to Cortona, for it is there God hath called thee."

And thus, as she afterwards related, the good angel con-
quered in the strife.

Once more she set forth on her wanderings, leading her
little boy, and after an eight-mile walk they reached the Porta
Berarda of Cortona. As they ascended the precipitous streets
of the town they were met by two noble ladies of the family
Moscari, who, attracted by the appearance of the beautiful
mother and child, stopped them, and inquired the reason of
their weary and way-worn aspect.

Margaret, touched to the heart by this kindness, poured
out her story without reserve, neither concealing nor condon-
ing any of the facts. The noble mother and daughter in-law,.
Marinaria and Rameria, were so affected by her story and
captivated by her appearance that they invited her on the spot
to come to their palace. Under that hospitable roof Margaret
was destined to find a peaceful refuge for many years, and
her benefactresses also charged themselves with the education
of her son. The confessor to whom Margaret first unburdened
her heart was Padre Rainaldo of Castiglione, one of the seven
custode of the Franciscan province in Tuscany, and when he
left Cortona he transferred his penitent to Padre Bevignati,
who was to remain her life long friend.

Margaret's one hope and dream was to be admitted into
the Third Order of St. Francis that wonderful organization
which the saint had bequeathed to the world when he left it,
fifty years before this date. Such a grace and honor could
not, however, be as yet conceded to the poor woman who had

1 900.] A MEDIAEVAL MAGDALEN. 781

lived so long in sin. She had first to prove by works her sin-
cere repentance. She chose a retired room in the Moscari
palace, and lived there as in a recluse's cell, inflicting on her-
self such severe penance and mortification that her confessor
was at last obliged to order her to moderate these practices.
She ceased not to revile and despise the body which had been
the cause of her sin and sorrow. She cut off her glorious
hair, she darkened her skin, and she would even have scarred
and mutilated her features but for the intervention of Padre
Bevignati. She humiliated herself morally in every way, and
before every one. Once she went expressly to her native vil-
lage, and there publicly asked pardon for the scandal she had
caused ; she addressed herself in particular to a woman named
Mantenessa, whose counsels she had despised in former days,
and who was so struck by her conversion that she followed
her into the Third Order. No humiliations, no privations
were too much for her; she never left her retirement except
to nurse the sick and poor, and especially to attend women in
their confinements. She so excelled in this line of nursing
that her services were greatly sought after by the rich ; but
fearing lest this might lead her into temptation, she decided
that she would go only to poor and miserable women.

At last, in 1276, she attained her heart's desire and was
admitted into that great family to which St. Elizabeth of
Hungary and St. Rosa of Viterbo had belonged. This cere-
mony is depicted on a delightfully quaint bas-relief on her
tomb, which is attributed to Giovanni Pisano, and also in a
fresco by Ambrogio Lorenzetti, one of a series painted by
this artist in the fourteenth century in that old Church of St.
Margaret, and which, alas! were destroyed when the new
church was built. In this fresco the saint is kneeling, while a
Franciscan brother shears off her hair, and male and female
citizens of Cortona look in through the arched openings.
Margaret wears a buff and pink dress, but on the prie-dieu
close by is the blue and white checkered habit which she was
then to assume, and always to wear in future.

After this joyful event she seemed as if she could not suffi-
ciently devote herself to the service of our Lord ; all the hours
not spent actively in the help of his creatures were passed in
fervent prayer in his house, and it appeared to her as if the
Church of Saint Francis was more blessed than the others, so
that she remained kneeling for hours before a certain crucifix
in a small chapel, till at last one day, when she had been

782 A MEDIAEVAL MAGDALEN. [Sept.,

bewailing her past, and crying more than ever for pardon, the
figure of our gracious Lord bent towards her, his lips pro-
nounced divine words of forgiveness and absolution. From
that time forward, save for one dark interval, which came later,
of doubt and apparent abandonment, the heavenly grace never
left her, and manifested itself often in many wonderful and miracu-
lous ways, though there were not wanting evil-minded and foul-
tongued people who both spoke and acted towards her in the most
malicious fashion. They were probably jealous of the wonder-
ful way in which the Divine Power had been manifested to the
poor penitent, who had indeed humbled herself only to be ex-
alted by the manifest grace and communications of our Divine
Lord, so that she was often filled with the spirit of prophecy.

Her reception into the Third Order was indeed a turning-
point in her life, for her works of charity and devotion to the
sick were now organized, and she was able to extend them.
Opposite to the Palazzo Moscari, where she still lived, was a
house belonging to a noble lady of Cortona, Donna Diabella,
who had an especial love and admiration for Margaret. To
her she made a present of this mansion, and here Margaret
founded a hospital for the sick, the aged, and the orphans,
which she dedicated to Santa Maria della Misericordia, and
which still exists as the Ospedale Maggiore di Cortona. She
nursed the sick in this hospital, and brought poor lying-in wo-
men to be cared for in her own cell ; she begged for alms
and food on their behalf, and when the poor and suffering had
been fed, she and her son ate what remained, or had been
rejected.

Inspired by her example, many noble ladies grouped them-
selves around her to aid in her work. She united them under
the s rules of St. Francis, and composed some wise and practi-
cal instructions for them, which obtained the approval even of
the Bishop of Arezzo, Ubertini, who had never shown himself
her friend. Her little company was soon known as the " Pover-
elle," and this congregation lasted in its primitive organization
till they were cloistered in 1591. They were suppressed during
the Revolution, and in 1820 the convent became a school un-
der the direction of the Sisters of St. Francis de Sales.

The simple and apostolic character of Margaret's charity is
quaintly illustrated in Lorenzetti's frescoes and Giovanni Pisano's
bas-relief by the scene in which she gives to a poor woman the
checkered tunic which apparently was her only garment, for she
is represented standing up to her neck in a sort of dirty

1900.]

A MEDIEVAL MAGDALEN.

783

THE SARCOPHAGUS. OF SAINT MARGARET.

clothes-basket, out of which she hands her tunic to a poor wo-
man already very tidily dressed.

Meanwhile Margaret's son was growing up. He had been
educated by the care of the Moscaris at Arezzo, and Margaret
had so associated him in her devotions and all her good works,
that it is not surprising he manifested a strong vocation for a
religious life, and when, in 1283, he was old enough to enter
the Order of St. Francis, her heart was filled with grateful joy,
and she wrote him a touching and beautiful letter, which has
been preserved by Bevignati. One would like to know more
of Margaret's relations with her child ; but in the pages of her

784 A MEDIEVAL MAGDALEN. [Sept.,

priestly biographer the woman is eclipsed by the saint, and we
hear no more of her son. As, however, she was now assured
of his career, and had seen her work at the hospital organized,
she followed the heaven-inspired vocation which called her to
leave her room in the Moscari palace, her. cell in the Church
of St. Francis, and to withdraw higher up the mountain, to
take her abode in a miserable cabin under the walls of the
fortress, and here she lived for nine years, till her death in
1297. They were by no means all years of peace ; calumny,
with its hundred tongues, pursued Margaret even on her with-
drawal from the world ; she was also deprived of the wise coun-
sels and faithful friendship of Padre Bevignati, who was sent
on a mission to Siena to pacify the factions in that city. She
fell into deep depression, and it seemed to her as if she was
not only despised of men, but also abandoned by God. But
even in these dark days a ray of brightness rested on her
labors for God's sake, when by her prayers and representations
to the 'authorities of the city she induced them to repair the
little chapel of St. Basil, which stood hard by the cell she in-
habited. In 1290 this chapel was once more consecrated to
divine service, and it became the nucleus of the church which
was afterwards to rise to her honor on this spot, and to in-
clude her cell within its walls. It was in this cell that on the
22d of February, 1297, her spirit returned to her Maker. On
the third of January she had received a spiritual warning of
the date of her death, and the last days of her existence were
blessed to her, and to all those who thronged around her death-
bed.

So we see her lying on the beautiful tomb of Carrara mar-
ble, said to be the work of Giovanni da Pisa. Ogival arches
support a sort of canopy, from which angels are drawing back
the curtains at the head and feet of the recumbent figure of
the saint, and on the sarcophagus below are six bas-reliefs re-
lating to scenes of her life, all quaint and touching in their
simplicity, especially the one which represents her death, where
our Lord receives her spirit carried up by two angels in a sort
of little bag, while below her lifeless body lies in calm repose ;
the draped figure of a religious bows reverently over her feet,
while another, holding an open book, lightly lays his right hand
on her head with an expression of intense love and reverence.

Venerated from the day of her death, Saint Margaret was
not regularly canonized till 1728, under the pontificate of Bene-
dict XIII.

igoo.] PROFIT-SHARING AS A SYSTEM OF ECONOMICS. 785
PROFIT-SHARING AS A SYSTEM OF ECONOMICS.*

BY LEOPOLD KATSCHER.

'HE best plans for profit-sharing are those which
treat the workman least as a machine and most
as a free man, and which promote his welfare
most powerfully. It is by the assignment of a
share in the profits of the concern that his in-
terest in it is raised to the highest point, and that the advan-
tages without the disadvantages of the bulk of co-operative
productive societies are attained. The great undertakings of
Leclaire in Paris, Thomson at Huddersfield, Nelson at St.
Louis, Bon Marche" in Paris, and Godin at Guise have gradually
passed entirely out of the hands of the chiefs into the hands
of the staff i. e., they have become companies, and have only
remained private concerns in point of management. The well-
known American political economist, F. A. Walker, wrote thus
in 1887 to Mr. Gilman :

" It seems to me absolutely certain that profit-sharing, when
generally introduced and carried out with good will on both
sides, will secure a very fair partition of the results of labor,
and sweep out of the world most of the difficulties of the wage-
question, if the parties will meet each other half-way and show
a real wish to work together."

IT IS SAID TO BE IMPRACTICABLE.

No firm which has made experiment of the profit-sharing
system will share the opinion that it is a question of sacrifice.
The other a priori objections, too, are raised almost exclu-
sively by men of business knowing nothing of the subject
from their own experience, and are based upon ignorance of
facts or erroneous conception of the principles on which the
system is founded. All these objections have been repeatedly
refuted by experts, while all who throw about the words " im-
possible " or " valueless " simply know nothing about the mat-
ter and are talking at random. These opponents, for example,
prophesy, with the confidence of ignorance, that the workmen

* An article discussing the ethical value of the system of profit-sharing was published in
the May number of THE CATHOLIC WORLD MAGAZINE.
VOL. LXXI. 50

786 PROFIT-SHARING AS A SYSTEM OF ECONOMICS. [Sept.,

will interfere in the management of the concern ; that they
will insist upon examining the books ; in case their share of
the profits should be reduced or is nil in consequence of bad
times, they will become thoroughly discontented, and so on.
But the result of actual experience shows the fallacy of all these
high-sounding predictions. The chiefs testify with one accord
that their people have never made the slightest attempt to in-
terfere in the management or the book-keeping. That there
should be disappointment if the share of the profits proves to
be nil, is only natural both on the side of the employers and
the employed but the latter are almost as capable as the
former of distinguishing between a good and a bad run of
business, and it never comes into their heads to make a griev-
ance of an occasional failure of dividend. One of Billon &
Isaac's men expressed himself typically on this point : " If
there is no profit, well then there is none, and we have at
least the satisfaction of knowing that we have done our best."
Besides, many firms are so reasonable as to submit their books
to representatives of the staff, or to a sworn accountant, thus
meeting any possible distrust ; in many other houses the de-
sirable guarantee is given to the workmen by the fact that the
controlling officials are themselves also sharers in the profits.

IT IS SAID TO BE ONE-SIDED.

Nothing can be more illogical than the frequently-heard
objection that Leclaire's reform is one-sided, because justice
demands that the workmen should be partakers of the loss as
well as of the gain. In order to comprehend at once the
weakness of this argument, we have only to keep before our
eyes that it is by increased diligence and frugality that the
workman creates a surplus profit, and that his share of the
profits is drawn from this surplus. For example, if after re-
ceiving a share for four years he draws nothing the fifth year,
because the firm has made no profit, he suffers an actual loss,
because he loses the compensation due to him for having
worked quite as well and as zealously in the fifth year as in
the four previous years. His risk must be limited to that. It
can only touch the variable portion of his income, the share in
the profits, not the fixed rate of his wages. Only capitalists
and persons conducting a business (such as heads of private
firms, shareholders, members of productive companies, etc.) can
be expected to run a greater risk; wages and salaries are not
investments of capital, but fixed compensation for work done.

IQOO.] PROFIT-SHARING AS A SYSTEM OF ECONOMICS. 787

Even in the case of co-operative productive societies in which,
juristically, the pay is really only an advance on the profits, it
never enters the mind of the creditors, in case there should be
a downfall, to demand the return of the pay ; therefore, not
even in this case, where the workers are identical with the
employers, is there a share of the losses for the wage-receivers
as such how much more reasonable it is to wish ordinary
workmen to be called upon for covering the losses out of their
wages. The risk of the staff is purely a risk of work ; they
cannot share in the risk of the business, were it only because
they have no influence over the management of it. As their
rights are limited, so must their responsibility remain limited.
Besides, it is the heads of the concern who regulate the share
system according to their own pleasure, and fix the terms of
the participation themselves ; thus there can be no question of
a lion's share of the advantages in favor of the hands ; rather
would the participation in the losses be an unjust favoring of
the employers.

IT IS SAID NOT TO BE SUITABLE TO EVERY BUSINESS.

Now we arrive at those objections which have been raised
by individual practicians, who approve of the system in itself
but hold that it is not applicable in this or that branch of
industry, this or that constitution of the staff, this or that scale
of the concern, etc., etc. These objections have reference to
the want of intelligence in the staff, the greater and smaller
number of people employed, certain peculiarities in the mode
of distributing the bonus, etc.

In the first place, we may remark that in those cases in
which the attempt to bring about the system of participation
has been made and afterwards given up the fault has never
lain in the essence of the system, but either in the immaturity
of the undertaking, in untoward circumstances connected with
it, in the want of patience, etc., or in purely external casual-
ties, such as transfer of property, death, or and this applies
specially to Germany the deep-rooted animosity of social de-
mocracy. Neither the nature of the industry nor the number
of the staff have had any influence on the success or the fail-
ure of an attempt, and experience teaches that the division of
profits is applicable in almost every case ; only the minutiae of
each undertaking must be regulated according to incidental cir-
cumstances and peculiarities, and in this respect the principle
of participation lends itself to an enormous elasticity and flexi-

788 PROFIT-SHARING AS A SYSTEM OF ECONOMICS. [Sept.,

bility ; it easily accommodates itself to the requirements of
every branch of business, and even through those of every in-
dividual firm. Even in those industries which would appear
the least likely to fulfil the main condition of the practica-
bility of profit-sharing (possible influence of the good-will of
the staff on the result of the business) such as textile manu-
factures with their established system of payment by the piece
and premiums many firms employ the sharing of profits with
marked success, although in this case almost everything de-
pends on skilful management and fortuitous circumstances,
while at the same time piece-payment and premiums already
form a powerful incentive to diligence.

WORKMEN ARE INTELLIGENT ENOUGH.

The objection frequently brought forward, that the hands
are not intelligent enough to understand the question, may in
certain cases be well founded ; but even here in the long run
patience will meet its reward. Instead of giving up at once,
let every one rather wait, in each separate case, to see whether
the educational force inherent in the system, and " golden "
practice, will not do their duty and exalt the intelligence of
even the most stupidly perverse workman. In general, as ex-
perience teaches, this result comes about very soon. It is not
to be expected that every ignorant workman will at once un-
derstand when he is told that it depends partly on himself
whether his income increases or not, and he needs only to work
better, more diligently, and more economically, to promote his
own interest and that of his chief ; but when we consider how
difficult it is for some employers to take in the real meaning
of the reform, we shall see how unreasonable it is to make a
hindrance of the possible want of understanding on the part of
the workman at first starting. A chief who expects that his
whole staff, immediately upon the announcement of the intro-
duction of a profit-sharing system, shall be suddenly transformed
into a model corps, is himself rather impatient and short-
sighted than intelligent. As a rule, the sight of the first share
of profits is sufficient to sharpen the understanding of the work-
man with regard to the advantages of the reform. Even in
concerns in which the hands in general are supposed to stand
on the lowest rung of the intellectual ladder, the sharing of
profits has usually in a very short time brought forth remarka-
ble changes in the moral and intellectual level of the staff.
Self-interest is a wonderful school-master !

1900.] PROFIT-SHARING ASA SYSTEM OF ECONOMICS. 789

The mode of participation has quite as little real influence
on the result as the intelligence of the workman or the charac-
ter and extent of the concern. Among the failures as well as
among the successful attempts are to be found on one side
many which were founded upon the previous fixation of the
percentage of the share, and upon the payment in ready money
of the whole of it, and on the other side many which did not
determine the percentage beforehand and paid only a part, or
even nothing, in ready money, and devoted the surplus to pro-
vision for old age and other benevolent purposes. In many
cases the most varied results have been obtained with the same
mode of applying the system ; in one case there was nothing
to divide, while in another $, 10, and even as much as So
per head and year was counted out. We can only assume that
the result depends partly on the total of the minutiae of the
undertaking, partly on the total of the incidental circumstances
of the business, and the quality of the staff and of the manage-
ment, and therefore this plea affords no ground for shrinking
from an attempt.

THE BRIGHT SIDE OF THE SYSTEM.

I have purposely dealt fully with the objections of experts
and the prejudices of theoreticians, believing thus to further
my object that of encouraging the experiment. As regards
the bright side of profit-sharing, I have already touched upon
it here and there, and can therefore sum up briefly. In the
first place comes the elevation of the material position and of
the moral standard of the staff ; in both these respects the re-
sults obtained are sometimes astonishing, very frequently re-
markable, and for the most part at least encouraging. Then
come the great advantages which accrue to the employers,
partly by increased quantity and improved quality in their
productions without rise of the working expenses, partly by
saving in the raw material and careful treatment of the tools
or machines ; lastly, by the cessation of labor troubles and
permanent constitution of the staff. The most amazing pecuni-
ary results follow from the saving in raw material and care in
the use of implements. Messrs. H. Briggs, Son & Co. obtained
a yearly surplus of 3,000 by more careful heaving and manipu-
lation of coals on the part of the workmen. We find in an
official report of 1867: "It is worthy of remark that notwith-
standing the sharing of profits with the staff, the working ex-
penses of the Paris-Orleans Railway are less than those of

790 PROFIT-SHARING ASA SYSTEM OF ECONOMICS. [Sept.,

most of the other lines." On a German landed estate twelve
times as many milk-pots were broken before the introduction
of the participation system as after. In lithographic establish-
ments it is found that, once the sharing of profits is set on
foot, no more is heard of the smashing of stones used in en-
graving, though formerly it was a large source of loss. A
workman under Billon & Isaac wrote : " It is a pleasure to see
how each of us strives to fill up his time off work diligently
and conscientiously, to save as much as possible in the raw
material, and to collect the refuse carefully." Numberless ex-
amples of this kind might be adduced. The workmen know
that they are economizing not only for their employers but
for themselves.

Further, there are three more points which specially deserve
to be emphasized: I. That the chances of stability in business
undertakings are raised by the sharing of profits ; 2. That this
system increases the purchasing power of the workmen by
adding to their incomes, and indirectly creates work for the
unemployed by increasing the consumption, as of course pro-
duction must rise accordingly; 3. That the sharing of profits,
where piece-work already prevails, serves to ward off the evils
of that 'system. These are: The danger of overstrain on the
part of the staff, exaggerated preference of quantity to quality,
and isolation of the workman by his detachment from the
community, whereas the participation system brings about not
only good production, but general good understanding between
the workmen themselves, and between them and the firm which
employs them. Herr Frommer is quite wrong in his Gewinn-
beteiligung (Leipsic) when he sets piece-wages above participa-
tion. As if there were any rivalry or contradiction between
these two methods of improving the wage-system ! Practice
teaches in numerous instances that they work admirably to-
gether, and often complement one another successfully. In
those industries in which piece-work is most largely employed,
such as the production of metallic ware and printing, highly
favorable results have been obtained by the system of partici-
pation.

In France voices have been raised in favor of compulsory
introduction of the participation system by law ; while in Ger-
many the celebrated statistician, Ernst Engel, made the same
demand twenty-five years ago. But such a measure would be
dangerous, for it would put an end to the elasticity of the sys-
tem and the freedom of co-operation ; it would introduce an

1900.] PROFIT-SHARING AS A SYSTEM OF ECONOMICS. 791

inflexibility, a rigidity which could not fail to reduce considera-
bly the value of the proceeding, not to speak of the inevitable
interference of governments in the direction of control. No
profit-sharing at all would be preferable to one prescribed by
the state. Even without the state it is to be hoped that the
present hundreds of participation concerns, with their tens of
thousands of workmen, will grow into thousands of undertak-
ings with millions of subordinates, for then only would the im-
portance of the movement appear in the right Tight. So long
as the world is not prepared for a radical, ideal solution of
the labor question, we must be contented, for the present at
least, if the hope we have expressed that of the improvement
of the position of millions of workingmen can be brought
about by means of " enlightened self-interest," such as plays a
part in the profit-sharing system, in the case of employers as
well as employed.

792 WHEN OLD SLA VER y DA ys WERE GONE. [Sept.,
WHEN OLD SLAVERY DAYS WERE GONE.

BY BESSIE O'BYRNE.

RED WEST, a great big, handsome fellow, with
a heart of the same order, was standing at the
corner talking to a friend. He held a cigar in
his mouth with his left hand, and with his right
had just struck a match against the lamp-post,
when at, or rather under, his elbow a voice exclaimed cheerily :
" Busted agin, Mas* Fred ! "

Fred threw a glance over his shoulder, and there stood
" Little Tom," a small, misshapen negro about fifteen years old,
with crutches under his arms and feet all twisted out of shape,
his toes barely touching the ground as he hopped along. He
wore an old straw hat with only a hint of brim. There must
be some law of cohesive attraction between straw and wool,
for Little Tom's cranium was large, while the hat was small,
and set 'back much nearer the nape of his neck than the
crown of his head, yet held its place like a natural excrescence
or a horrible bore. Tom had met with very few people mean
enough to laugh at him ; for though he possessed all the
brightness, cheerfulness, and pluck of deformed people gene-
rally, there was a wistful look about his eyes which his want
of height and his position on crutches, perhaps, created by
keeping them upturned while talking with any one taller than
himself ; and this was generally the case, for there were no
growfl people so small as Little Tom. His shirt was torn
and his pantaloons ragged, but to gild those faded glories he
wore a swallow-tailed coat with brass buttons which some one
had given him, whether from a sense of humor or a senti-
ment of charity let the gods decide.

" Busted agin, Mas' Fred ! "

"What busted you this time, Tom?" asked Mr. West.

" Lumber, Mas' Fred. I was in de lumber bizness las'
week, buyin* old shingles an' sellin' 'em for kindlin' ; but my
pardner, he maked a run on de bank leas' ways, on my
breeches pocket an' den runned away hisse'f. Ain't you
gwine to sot me up agin, Mas' Fred ? "

"What business are you going into this week?"

i goo.] WHEN OLD SLAVERY DAYS WERE GONE. 793

" Feckshunnerry," replied Tom, taking the quarter Mr.
West handed him. " Dis '11 do to buy de goods, but 'twon't
rent de sto', Mas' Fred."

"What store?" asked Mr. West.

" Dat big sto' Mack an' Coles is jes' movin' outen. Mr.
Coles say I may hab it for sebben hundred dollars, ef you '11
go my skorty."

Fred laughed. " Well, Tom, I was thinking I would n't
go security for any one this week ; don't you think you can
do business on a smaller scale ? "

Tom's countenance fell and suffered visibly, but a cheery
thought presently struck him, and he exclaimed disdainfully :
"Anyhow, I ain't a keerin' 'bout Mack an' Coles ole sto' der
ole sebben hundred dollar sto' ! I can get a goods-box an'
turn it upside down, an' stan' it up by de Cap'tol groun's, an'
more folks '11 pass 'long an' buy goobers dan would come in
dat ole sto' all de year. Dey ain't spitin' me!"

As Tom limped off to invest his money, his poor legs
swinging and his swallow-tails flapping, Fred's friend asked
who he was.

" Belonged to us before the war," said Fred. " Poor little
devil ! the good Lord and the birds of the air seem to take
care of him. I set him up in business with twenty.five cents
every week, and look after him a little in other ways. Some-
times he buys matches and newspapers, and sells them again.
Sometimes he buys ginger-cakes and eats them all ; but he is
invariably * busted,' as he calls it, by Saturday night. Tom
oh Tom ! "

Tom looked back, and with perfect indifference to the fact
that he was detaining Mr. West, answered that he would be
there directly, continuing his negotiations for an empty goods-
box lying at the door of a neighboring dry-goods store.
"What y^ou want, Mas' Fred!" he asked on his return.

" Miss Nellie is going to be married week after next, and
you may come up to the house if you like. I was afraid I
might forget it."

"Whoop you 'tis! Thanky, Mas' Fred. I boun' to see
Miss Nellie step off de carpet. But Lord-a-massy ! dem new
niggars you all got ain't gwine to lemme in ! "

" Come to the front door and ask for me. Cut out now,
and don't get * busted ' this week, because I'll need all my
money to buy a breast-pin to wait on my sister in. Come,
James, let us register."

794 WHEN OLD SLAVERY DAYS WERE GONE. [Sept.,

Tom's glance followed Mr. West and his friend out of
sight. Then he turned, and paused no more till he reached
an out-of-the-way grocery store, in the window of which were
displayed samples of fish, and soap, and calico, and kerosene
lamps, and dreadful brass jewelry, among which was a fright-
ful breast-pin in the shape of a crescent, set with red and
green glass, and further ornamented by a chain of the most
atrocious description conceivable. Before this thing of beauty,
which to him had been a joy for weeks, Tom paused and lin-
gered, and smote his black breast, and sighed the sigh of
poverty. Then he went in.

" What mout be de price o' dat gent's pin in de corner ob
de sto' ? "

"I don't see any gent in the corner of the window," said
the proprietor of the store.

Tom took the mild pleasantry, and inquiring " What mout
be de price o' de pin ? " was told that it might be anything,
from nothing up, but it could go for seventy-five cents.

He stood again outside the window, looking sadly and re-
flectively at the attractive bijou ; then seating himself on the
curb-stone, his crutches resting in the gutter, he thoughtfully
held between his finger and thumb the twenty-five-cent piece
Mr. West had given him.

" Ef I take dis an' de one Mas' Fred gwine to gimme nex'
week, dat '11 be fifty cents ; but it won't be sebenty-five, so I
got to mak' a quarter on de two. Ef Miss Nellie knowed, I
'spec* she 'd wait anoder week to git married, an* den I wouldn't
run no risk o' dese ; but I ain't gwine to tell her, cos I know
she could n't help tellin' Mas' Fred, an' I want to s'prise him.
Mas' Fred 's made me feel good many a time ; I want to make
him feel good wunst. He doan nubber come dis way an' ain't
seed dat pin, or he would ha' had it 'fore now."

Then Little Tom bestirred himself, and, obtaining the assist-
ance of a friend, took the dry-goods box up to Capitol Square.
There he turned it upside down, spread a newspaper over the
top, and proceeded to display his wares.

A pyramid of apples stood in one corner, a small stack of
peppermint was its vis-a-vis; a tiny glass of peanuts graced a
third, and was confronted by a lemon that had seen life, and
was now more sere than yellow. But the crowning glory was
the centre-piece an unhappy-looking pie of visage pale and
thin physique, yet how beautiful to Tom ! He stepped back
on his- crutches, turning his head from side to side as he sur-

1900.] WHEN OLD SLAVERY DAYS WERE GONE. 795

veyed the effect, took up a locust-branch he had brought with
him to brush away the flies, and leaning against the railing
with calm dignity awaited coming events.

His glance fell on the figure of a negro boy who stood
gazing with longing eyes on the delicacies of his table, and
it was with a strange feeling of kinship that Little Tom con-
tinued to regard the new-comer, for he had been branded with
misfortune. He appeared about Tom's age, and should have
been taller, but his legs had been amputated nearly up to the
knee, and as he stood on the pitiful stumps, supported by a
short cane in one hand, his head was hardly as high as the
iron railing. He had none of Tom's brightness, but looked
ragged and dirty and hungry, and evidently had no Mas' Fred
to help the good Lord and the birds of the air to take care
of him. His skin was of a dull, ashen hue, and the short wool
which clung close to his scalp was sunburnt till it was red and
crisp, and formed a curious contrast to his black face. One
arm was bare, only the ragged remains of a sleeve hanging
over the shoulder, and it seemed no great misfortune that his
legs had been shortened, for he had hardly pantaloons enough
to cover what he had left.

He looked at the pie and Tom looked at him. Presently
the latter inquired seriously, " Whar yo' legs ? "

" Cut off," was the answer.

" How came dey cut off ? "

" Feet was fros' bit. Like ter kill me."

4< What yo' name ? " asked Tom.

" Jake."

" What were yo' ole mas's name ? "

" Didn't hav' no ole mas'."

" Was you a natchul free nigger ? "

" Dunno what you mean," said Jake.

" 'Fore we was all sot free," explained Little Tom. " Was
yo' born wid an ole mas' an' a' ole mis', or was yo' born
free ? "

" Free," said Jake, thus placing himself, as every Southerner
knows, under the ban of Tom's contempt. " Umph ! my Lor',
dat pie do smell good ! "

"You look hungry," said Tom gravely.

" I is," said Jake " hungry as a dog."

Negroes are generous creatures, and Tom's mind was fully
made up to give Jake a piece of pie; but before he signified
this benevolent intention he rested his crutches under his

796 WHEN OLD SLAVERY DAYS WERE GONE. [Sept.,

shoulders and swung his misshapen feet almost in Jake's face.
He leered at him, he grinned at him, he stuck his chin in his
face, and made a dart at him with the crown of his head, fiercely
snapping his eyes, and slapping his sides, and swinging his
heels to the following edition of " Juba " with incredible and
indescribable emphasis :

Ruby eyed 'simmon seed,
See Billy hoppin' jes' in time !
Juba dis an' Juba dat,
Juba killed de yaller cat.
Roun* de kittle o' possum fat,
Whoop a-hoy ! Whoop a-hoy !
Double step o' Juba!
Forty pounds o' candle-grease
Settin' on de mantel.piece.
Don' you see ole granny grace?
She look so homely in de face.
Up de wall and down de 'tition,
Gimme ax sharp as seekle,
Cut de niggar's woozen pipe
What eat up all de snassengers.
Git up dar, you little niggar !
Can't you pat Juba?

He stopped suddenly and grinned ferociously at Jake. Jake
gazed stolidly back at Tom. Then Tom stepped to the table
and took up a rusty old pocket-knife, and cutting out a piece
of the pie handed it to Jake. Jake bit off a point of the tri-
angle with his eyes fixed on Tom, as if in doubt whether he
would be allowed to proceed ; but finding that the liberty was
not resented, he eagerly devoured the remainder, drew his coat-
sleeve across his mouth, and said : " Thanky." And thus their
friendship commenced.

It was very touching and beautiful the attachment which
was formed between those two unfortunate creatures. Neither
could perform the labor or join in the sports incident to their
age, and they seemed joined together by the attraction of a
common misery. Every day some little service, pitiful in its
insignificance except to themselves ; some little humble office
from one to the other ; some little act of self-denial perhaps
the saving of a few cold potatoes that had been given to Jake,
or the -sacrifice of a buttered roll that Tom had got at Mr.

1900.] WHEN OLD SLAVERY DAYS WERE GONE, 797

West's every day some little thing served to cement this
friendship which gave to each a companion who did not mor-
tify him ; and they became inseparable, Tom taking Jake to
the little shed where he spent his nights, and making him an
equal partner in the business during the day.

The next time Tom came to be set up he gave Mr. West a
knowing wink, and said mysteriously: " Doan you go buyin'
no bres'-pin to w'ar to de weddin', Mas' Fred."

" Why not, Tom ? "

" Cos ain't no use in two bres'-pins ; an* dar ain't no tellin*
what mout happin 'fore dat weddin' comes off."

Mr. West laughed ; but he had no premonition that Tom
had entered into a successful negotiation for the grocer's ex-
ecrable crescent, and the shock was therefore unbroken when,
the evening of the marriage, Tom entered his dressing-room
and presented it to him with an air of pride so pitiful that it
would have made a woman cry.

Fred was as fully surprised as Tom had anticipated, and af-
fected to be as greatly delighted ; and when he had completed
his toilet of faultlessly quiet tone he pinned the. horrible thing
in his shirt bosom, and thanked Little Tom for the gift with
all the gracious courtesy of his fine nature.

Mr. West was to " stand " with a friend of his sister's who
was a guest in the house, and as they fancied themselves very
much in love with each other, they had agreed to meet in the
parlors an hour before that appointed for the ceremony, that
they might enjoy a quiet t$te-a-tete before the assembling of
the guests. Having finished his toilet, he accordingly went
down, and was joined by the lady.

They promenaded up and down the parlors, and again and
again her eyes had rested curiously upon the pin; but she
made no allusion to it till her feelings had become entirely
irrepressible, when she interrupted in the middle of a sentence
to inquire what on earth it was, and where he got it, and why
he wore it.

Then he sat down by her side, with lace curtains shimmer-
ing in the twilight, and long mirrors reflecting alabaster vases
and oil paintings, and the air heavy with the perfume of flowers,
and told her about Little Tom of his shapeless feet and for-
lorn life, his empty pocket and grateful heart. And she agreed
that it must be dreadful to be so poor and deformed, and all
that, and of course he ought to be grateful, but really she
thought Mr. West rather morbid in his philanthropy when he

79* WHEN OLD SLAVERY DAYS WERE GONE. [Sept.,

could wear that brass moon before five hundred people only
to please a little deformed negro.

" Perhaps you do not understand," said Fred gently, " but I
have given him permission to witness the ceremony (I believe
I told you that he was the personal property of my mother,
and a favorite with her), and he will certainly know whether I
wear this pin that he has worked for, and gone into debt for,
and probably starved himself for. Will there be any one here
save yourself whose laugh I dread enough to induce me to
disappoint him ? "

" It will make us both ridiculous," said she haughtily.

Fred unfastened the pin and placed it in his vest pocket,
and with it disappeared Miss Lander's prospect of becoming
Mrs. West, enviable as she deemed the position.

" I have no right to include you in my sacrifice, if sacrifice
there be," said he with grave courtesy, and referred no more
to the matter ; but as soon as he could he sought his Bister
and requested that the honor of standing with Miss Landor
might be conferred on Mr. Munson, and himself allowed to
take Mr. Munson's partner, she being a little girl on whose
pluck and good-nature he might rely. His sister had no time
to enter into particulars, but made the desired change, and
Mr. West said to Miss Landor : " Miss Julia, I could not sacri-
fice you, so I have sacrificed myself, and am a volunteer in the
noble army of martyrs."

When, however, as the bridal cortege passed through the
hall, he saw Tom nudge a fellow-servant with his elbow, and
point to the pin, he felt repaid, though Miss Landor was hold-
ing her head very high.

The next morning Little Tom came by the office : " What
did de folks say 'bout yo' bres'.pin, Mas' Fred ? "

"Say? Why they didn't know what to say, Tom. They
could not take their eyes off. That pin knocked the black out
of everything there. The bridegroom could n't hold a candle
to me," said Mr. West. And Tom laughed aloud with delight.
"Did they give you your supper?"

"Did dat, Mas' Fred; an' I tuk home a snow-ball an' a
orange to Jake," said Little Tom.

Late on the evening of the same day Mr. West was about
leaving his office when Little Tom's crutches sounded in the
doorway, and Little Tom himself appeared, sobbing bitterly,
tears streaming down his face : " Oh, Lordy, Mas' Fred, oh,
Lordy ! "

1900.] WHEN OLD SLAVERY DAYS WERE GONE. 799

" What is the matter, Tom ? "

"Oh, Lordy, Mas' Fred! Jake's done dead!"

"Jake! Is it possible? What was the matter?"

" Oh, Lordy ! oh, Lordy ! " sobbed Little Tom. " Me an'
him went down to de creek an' was playin' babtizin' ; an* I 'd
done babtize Jake, an' oh, Lordy ! Lordy ! an* Jake was jes
gwine to babtize me, an' slipped out too fur, an' his legs was
so short he lost his holt on me an' drownded ! An* I couldn't
ketch him, cos I could n't stan' up widout nothin' to hold on
to. Oh, Lordy! I wish I nubber heerd o' babtizin' ! I could n't
git him out, an* I jes kep* on a-hollerin', but nobody did n't
come till Jake was done drownded."

"I am sorry for you, Tom; I wish I had been there. But
as far as Jake is concerned, he is better off than he was be-
fore," said Mr. West.

" No he ain't, Mas' Fred," said Tom stoutly : " leas' ways,
Jake did n't think so hisse'f, as if he had a-wanted to die he
could ha* done it long an* merry ago. I doan b'lieve in no
sich fool talk as dead folks bein' better off dan dey was befo."

Fred was silent, and Little Tom went on with renewed
tears : " I come up to ax you to gimme a clean shirt an' a
par o' draw's to put on Jake. You need n't gimme no socks,
as he ain't got no feet. Oh, Lordy ! oh, Lordy ! " sobbed
Little Tom ; " ef me an' Jake had jes' feet like some folks,
Jake would n't ha* been drownded ! "

"Take this up to the house," said Mr. West, handing him
a note, " and Miss Nellie will give you whatever you want."

" Thanky, sir," said Tom. " I know you ain't got no cof-
fins handy, but you can gimme de money an' I can get one.
I don't reckon it will take much, as Jake warn't big."

Then Mr. West wrote a note to the undertaker's, and
directed Tom what to do with it.

The next day was cold and dark and misty, and the pau-
per's hearse that conveyed Jake to the graveyard was driven
so fast that poor Little Tom, the only mourner, could hardly
keep up as he hopped along behind on his crutches.

The blast grew keener and the mist heavier, and before
Jake was buried out of sight the rain was falling in torrents
that drenched the poor little cripple sobbing beside the grave,
and the driver of the hearse, a good-hearted Irishman, said to
him: "In wid ye, or get up here by me if ye loike, an' I'll
take ye back."

But Tom shook his head, and prepared to hop back as he

8oo WHEN OLD SLA VER Y DA YS WERE GONE. [Sept.,

had hopped out. " Thanky, sir," he said, " but I 'd ruther
walk ; I feel like I 'd be gittin' a ride out o' Jake's furteral."

The wind blew open his buttonless shirt, and the rain beat
heavily on his loyal little breast, but he struggled against the
storm, and paused only once on his way home. That was be-
side the dry-goods box that he and Jake had had for a stall.
Now it was drenched with rain and the sides bespattered with
mud, and the newspaper that had served for a cloth had blown
over one corner and was soaked and torn, but clung to its
old companion, though the wind and rain beat it down. Little
Tom stood beside it, and cried harder than ever.

For several days Little Tom drooped and shivered, and
refused to eat, and at length he grew so ill that Mr. West
was sent for; but Mr. West was out of town, and did not
return for a week, and though, when he got home, the first
thing he did was to visit Little Tom, he came too late, for
Tom would never again rise from the straw pallet on which he
lay, nor use the crutches that now stood idle in the corner.

His eyes brightened and he smiled faintly as Fred entered
like a breath of fresh air so strong, fresh, and vigorous that
it made one feel better only to be near him.

" Why, Tom, how is this ? "

The little cripple paused to gather up his strength ; then
he said : " Busted agin, Mas' Fred, an* you can't nubber sot
me up no mo'."

"Oh, stuff! Dr. Linden can, if I can't. Why didn't you
send for him when you found out I was away?"

" I dunno, sir ; I nubber thought 'bout it."

Turning to the woman with whom Tom lived: "And why
did n't you do it ? " said Fred angrily.

"I didn't know Tom was sick," said she. " 'Tain't no use
sen'in' fo' no doctor now. I jes' been tellin' Tom he better
not put off makin' peace wid de Lord."

" I doan reckon de Lord is mad wid me, Chrissie. What
is I done to him? I didn't use to cuss, an' didn't play mar-
bles on Sunday, cos I couldn't play 'em no time, like de boys
dat hab feet."

" Ef ye doan take care you '11 be too late, like Jake. I
ain't a-sayin* whar Jake is now 'tain't for me to jedge," said
Chrissie; "but you better be a-tryin' to open de gate o* para-
dise."

Piping the words out stoutly and slowly and painfully, Little
Tom replied : " I doan b'leebe I keer 'bout goin' less Jake can go

1900.]

OLD SLA VER Y DA YS WERE GONE.

80 1

too ; but I 'spec' he 's dar, cos I doan see what de good Lord had
agin him. He oughten't a-thought hard o' nothin' Jake done,
cos he wa'n't nubber nothin' but a free niggar, an* didn't hab
no ole mas' to pattern by. Maybe he '11 let us bofe in. I
know Jake is waitin* for me somewhar, but I dunno what to
say to him. You ax him, Mas' Fred."

He spoke more feebly, and his eyes were getting glazed,
but the old instinct of servitude remained, and he added :
" Ain't you got nothin' to spread upon de flo', Chrissie, so
Mas' Fred won't get his knees dirty ? "

Immediately and reverently Fred knelt on the clay floor,
and, as nearly as he remembered it, repeated the Lord's
Prayer.

"Thanky, Mas' Fred," said Little Tom feebly. "What was
dat ole mis' used to sing ? Oh, Lam' o' God I come
I " The words ceased and the eyes remained half closed,
the pupils fixed.

Little Tom ,was dead !

VOL. LXXI. 51

THE NEW CATHEDRAL AT PRINCE-ALBERT.

HEROES OF OUR OWN LAND.

BY MARION J. BRUNOWE.

'NOTHER chain-letter!" she said; " oh, dear!"
And it was tossed aside. Seven had already come
that week, and it was only Tuesday, and she
wasn't exactly made of " quarters," or even dimes.
Really it was getting a bit monotonous, espe-
cially to one who distinctly abhorred letter writing. She vowed
she wouldn't open it at all. So she sat up straight and turned
her back on it -on the theory, presumably, that what you do
not know cannot bother you. But, alas ! the theory refused to
work.

It was* true that she was ignorant, wilfully ignorant of the
contents of that letter, but her conscience (nasty little trouble-
some imp !) her conscience refused, to allow her to forget that
there was a letter. She moved an inch further away from the
table, and turned her back more squarely if possible upon the
troublesome little missive. Then she fixed her eyes upon the
blank wall, and tried to think of Nirvana. But it wouldn't
do. Instead of restful nothingness, these were the fiery words
that wrote themselves across' the opposite wall :

1900.] HEROES OF OUR OWN LAND. 803

" We implore you, if you cannot comply with our request,
do not break the chain ; return this letter to us."

" Our request " was generally modest ; it meant the making
of three copies of the present letter, a list of the names and
addresses of all your friends, and the personal contribution of
twenty-five cents. She had already indeed complied with more
than a few of these requests, but certain restive demonstrations
on the part of the "friends" with whose names and addresses
she had been over-generous, had warned her that she had
better draw the line at once. However, those letters haunted
her: "We implore you do not break the chain!" It was
tragic. The consequences of " breaking that chain," where,
oh! where might they end? Imagination ran a wild riot: star-
vation! murder! suicide! harrowing poverty! innocent vic-
tims ! all because one wicked girl " broke the chain." Her
childhood, at least a portion of it, had been conducted on the
bogie system. There was a bad little girl ; she told a fib ;
every night the devil, in the shape of a big black dog, came
and lay under her bed, and he growled all night long. It was
a gruesome tale, and never to this day does she see a " big
black dog " without a thrill of horror. Yet the letters on the
wall worked the same way. She darted from her chair, seized
the envelope and tore it across with more force than elegance.

She read it once, and then she read it twice, and then she
sat down. After that she remarked, to the atmosphere in
general : " Maybe I 'm a a donkey ; I wonder am I ? "

It was a pathetic letter, one which would appeal to perhaps
the hardest of hearts, for in true and simple words it stated
its mission ; the word *' chain " was never mentioned. The
writer was "a poor missionary, more than one thousand miles
away from your place." His plea was : " Will you employ
your talents to make known my needs, and the needs of many
poor children in this frozen region who have never known the
sweets of a home." The locality was Prince-Albert, Saskatche-
wan, North-western Territory, Canada. She looked up Sas-
katchewan on the map ; it took a good while to find it, and
when found there wasn't much except space to it.

According to the encyclopaedia, Saskatchewan* means, in the
Indian language, "swift current" a river of British North
America, which is frozen from the middle of April to the mid-
dle of November. It is about seven hundred miles long ;
during the summer part of it is navigated by the boats of the
Hudson Bay Company.

804

HEROES OF OUR OWN LAND.

[Sept.,

THE PRESENT BISHOP is RT. REV. ALBERT PASCAL, O.M.I.

Amid this wild and frozen region, in this land whose very
name even is unknown to the majority of mankind, the old
faith has been firmly planted, and brave missionaries ate doing
to-day a work, which for pure heroism and self-sacrifice has
rarely been excelled even in the earliest ages of Catholicity.

It was in 1890 that the Apostolic Vicariate of Saskatche-
wan, with Prince. Albert as the see of its bishop, was erected.
The first and present Bishop is Right Rev. .Albert Pascal,
O.M.I. -The vicariate comprises an area of more than one

1900.] HEROES OF OUR OWN LAND. 805

hundred thousand square miles, and extends to the North Pole.
Its southern portion is north of the fifty-second degree of
latitude.

In this vast wilderness there are indeed several new settle-
ments, some of them quite prosperous ; but the population,
especially of these new centres, is almost invariably Protestant.
Prince-Albert itself numbers but three hundred Catholics, and
all of them so poor that they are constantly appealing to the
missionaries to be provided with the very necessaries of life.

Here and there are a few Catholic villages, each having its
church and school. In these parishes, however, the population,
consisting of half breeds, French, English, .Irish, Canadians,
Poles, Russians, Germans, Belgians, Norwegians, Hungarians,
and GaHiciaris, is so mixed, the languages and peculiar cus-
toms of the divers nationalities so totally at variance, that
peaceful cohabitation is almost impossible, and under the cir-
cumstances the ministry of priests is very difficult. Even in
Prince- Albert this same harassing mixture of population balks
the missionary's effort at every step. One cannot teach and
preach to a people of whose language one is profoundly ignor-
ant. The first step, therefore, on the part of the hard-forking
missionary is the acquisition of the new language. To the
Gallicians in particular, who occupy a squalid settlement on
the outskirts of Prince-Albert, it is hard indeed to bring a
word of comfort, for no priest as yet understands their lan-
guage. In many of these outlying villages the temperature
often descends to fifty-four degrees below zero ; blizzards are
of frequent occurrence. As recently as last winter hundreds
starved to death, while the survivors managed to sustain life
on a modicum of thin porridge made of bran the sort of
delicacy upon which enlightened Yankeedom feeds hens. Yet
none of these people have ever been left alone or unattended
in their dire distress. The Catholic missionary has been there,
comforting, strengthening, encouraging. We will present one
instance as a sample of many others.

The village of - - is in the thrall of the Famine Fiend.
The wretched inhabitant sees no help, no succor on any side.
Fleeing from a land where verily he and his have been " bowed'
by the weight of centuries, plundered, profaned and disin-
herited, stolid and stunned," rendered dead indeed " to rap-
ture and despair," he comes to the new Eldorado, only to find
conditions worse, if anything; for cold adds to the horrors of
famine. Every man's hand is against him, and God is for none.

8o6

HEROES OF OUR OWN LAND.

[Sept.,

THE MISSIONARY IN THE FAR NORTH-WEST, REV. W. BRUCK, O.M.I.

One morning, unheralded, unannounced in any way, a stranger
appears upon the village street. His is a slender, fragile form,
gowned in its long straight robe of sombre hue. The crucifix
gleams upon his bosom. A gentle, heart-whole compassion
lights up his countenance. Mild, kind eyes win the little chil-
dren on the spot. They run to him with the unerring instinct
of childhood, knowing a friend cling about his robe, search

1900.] HEROES OF OUR OWN LAND. 807

his face, their poor, little hunger-pinched features all aglow.
And he blesses them, that " good father " whom the bishop
has sent, laying his hands upon their heads as One had done
so tenderly long ago amid the palm groves of the Judean hills.
Drawn by the children, the more suspicious elders begin to
approach. By signs they gradually begin to comprehend that
his mission is one of peace and help. A rude tent is erected,
and here the father dwells, offering up the Holy Sacrifice daily,
feeding with the Bread of Life those whose souls have been
even more famished than their bodies. All day long from
morn to eve he goes about among his flock administering
material comfort with his own hands, consoling the sick, cloth-
ing the naked, burying the dead. Night at length sees him
within his tent ; searching winds find every crevice, for full
often the logs wherewith a fire might have been kindled have
been carried to a neighbor known to be in need. The father's
bed is a plank covered with a beaver-skin, his food the por-
ridge of his people, his night-light a sickly lamp, by whose dull
flicker he sits, spelling out the unknown language, and inditing
letter after letter in the hope of touching some charitable
heart, opening some well-filled purse out in the great world.
But day by day the misery grows, the cold becomes more cruel,
more piercing, more intense. Out over far-off lands fly the
white-winged messengers, their thrilling and pathetic appeals
coined out of the heart-blood of their sender. And yet the
answers are few, ah, so few and far between ! Perhaps but four
in a hundred reply, and with contributions which hardly cover
mailing expenses. And it is so little for which he asks, or
rather the field of choice is so unlimited, and would require on
the part of many no greater sacrifice than a moment's thought,
a trifling personal inconvenience, often but a few pennies.
' We need everything" had written the missionary ; " every little
helps. Old stamps of any kind, second-hand clothing, blankets,
underwear, coats, overcoats, cloth, calico, cotton, wool, flannel,
stockings, shop-worn goods of every kind and description, and
perhaps most welcome of all, for it can be turned into food,
money."

And still the misery grows, increases, multiplies. The
father's work seems all in vain. Verily, are there no more
kind hearts left in God's big world ? Has God himself deserted,
forgotten the most helpless of his children ? Are his ears deaf
to the cry of the orphan, the moan of the dying, the anguished
wail of a stricken people? and if so, is not life, all life a

8o8 HEROES OF OUR OWN LAND.^ [Sept.,

failure a hideous, horrible dream ? Where, oh ! where is God
their God, his God ? "

The tortured man, suffering so keenly with those whom he.
has seen suffer, drops his pen, and slowly rises to his full
height ; his knees are cramped, his feet almost frozen stiff ;
icicles hang upon his beard. In his eyes there is a dream-like,
despairing gaze, for after all he is but a man, though doing a
hero's work. He is thinking of a home, of a fireside far, far
away, long, long ago. A gentle woman her .features are his
sits in a low chair, her face and form rising distinct in the
firelight. A little lad is curled* up on the cushion kt her feet;
he also is bathed in the soft glow. And he listens, all eager
eyes and quickened breath, to the words falling from that
mother's lips. She is recounting the old Bible stories of heroes
and heroism, and the beauty of renouncing all things, wealth
and the worjd, and the comforts thereof, for Christ's sake. She
is telling him that little lad at her knee the story of Jesus;
that story " which through all the changes of eighteen centur-
ies has inspired the hearts of men with an impassioned love,
has shown itself capable of acting on all ages, nations, tempera-
ments, and conditions the story which has been not only the
highest pattern of virtue, but the strongest incentive to its
practice." And \ once again the tale bears its own abundant
fruit; the child grows a man, and turning his back upon home
and kindred, love of woman, intellectual companionship,,
creature-comforts, civilization itself, chooses the Cross for his
portion, the Man of Sorrow for his AIL And he has been
happy in his choice. " For my yoke is sweet, and my burden
light." Verily it has been so.

But to-night what has come over him to-night? Is it a
blight? that blight of doubt and discouragement, weariness and
exhaustion, which sometimes crushes the stoutest heart. " Cut-
bano ? cut bono?" that despairing cry of the centuries, has it
come to ring its knell even in his ears ?

He hastens to the door of his tent, and in a moment is out
beneath the stars of heaven. The firmament, that immeasur-
able field,

. . . " unfathom'd, untrod,

Save by Even and Morn, and the angels of God,"
calms his seething thoughts. Its vastness, " its radiant still-
ness, its soundless movement, its silent power" pour a balm
upon his weary spirit. And anon, out of the silence, comes a
Voice, 3. still, sweet Voice:

1900.]

HEROES OF OUR OWN LAND.

809

"Amen I say to you, there is no man who hath left house,
or parents, or brethren, or wife, or children, for the kingdom
of God's sake, who shall not receive much more in this present
time, and in the world to come life everlasting."

ST. PATRICK'S ORPHANAGE.

Again there is silence ; but the bad hour is over, the love-
light leaps into the man's eyes, the light of that love which is-
too great for speech, which leaves a pain in the heart, the
pain of a longing never to be satisfied this side of heaven, the
longing of a love which " beareth all things, believeth all:
things, hopeth all things, endureth all things."

In the early morning the children come crying about hisr
tent many of them were orphaned overnight. A few rags cover
the shivering little bodies ; deprived of their natural protectors,
their instinct teaches them to seek the " good father." And
their cry is for food, food to keep them from utter starvation.
He who had wrestled alone with the angel in the night, and
who had conquered like Jacob of old, meets and solaces them
with a brave countenance and courageous heart. He will take
this trouble to the bishop; someone must assume care of these
little ones ; they cannot be left to meet death by cold or starva-

Sio

HEROES OF OUR OWN LAND.

[Sept,

tion, or both combined. An orphanage must be started. The
means? never fear

" God 's in his heaven, all 's right with the world."

The outcome of that and many a similar sharp experience
was the foundation of St. Patrick's Orphanage.

The building which the bishop has thus acquired was for-
merly a convent belonging to the " Faithful Companions of
Jesus and Mary." These religious, however, were obliged to
leave their home on account of lack of means of support. The
building was rapidly falling to decay when his lordship con-
ceived the idea of endeavoring to acquire it as a shelter for
these destitute children of his diocese. The house consists as
yet but of four bare walls. There is absolutely no furniture ;
the children sleep on the floor with a sheep-skin for a bed.
Consumption and scrofula are rampant amongst them ; good
food and warm clothing are the crying necessities.

This, the story of one outlying mission among the whites,
is the story of many. But the Bishop of Saskatchewan, whose
own residence in Prince-Albert is of most unpretentious de
scription, and whose former cathedral was so humble that he

THE OLD CATHEDRAL AT PRINCE-ALBERT.

HEROES OF OUR OWN LAND. 811

was obliged to remove his mitre in stepping through the door-
way, also comprises within his jurisdiction nine Indian reserva-
tions. From the personal testimony of Father Briick, O.M.I.,
an interesting sketch may be gleaned of life on an Indian
reservation in the far North-west.

" On arriving at the reservation," writes Father Briick, " I
found the aged missionary whom I was to succeed. He was
living in a poor wooden building, consisting of only two rooms.
The house was open to all the winds, and in winter so cold
that during Mass the Most Precious Blood would freeze in
the chalice s For the ablutions it was necessary to warm the
wine and water ; cold water would freeze instantly. I had no
room in which to spend any time apart from the Indians, who
were constantly at the mission. Collecting some papers and
two skins, I to some extent remedied this defect, thus curtain-
ing off one little corner." There was, of course, no church, no
school ; so Father Briick, with the divine enthusiasm of faith,
at once set to work to collect funds for the erection of one.
From half-past nine in the morning till half past eleven at
night he worked with his pen, learning the language, and indit-
ing letters to the charitable. Success to a certain extent
crowned his efforts ; $460 reached him, though the modest little
church to be built next summer will require $700. As yet,
however, there are no prospects of erecting a school.

This reservation, which is not far from Prince-Albert, is of
course one of the exceptionally thriving sort. Crossing the
Saskatchewan River, and travelling several hundred miles fur-
ther north, one finds a region given over entirely to woods
and rocks. Here fish is the exclusive food, winter and summer,
for the cold is so intense as to be a foe to vegetation of every
kind. Yet even in this wild and apparently hopeless region one
finds the Cross gleaming here and there amid the desert wastes.
And in some of the more distant spots one starts and thrills
to find that the wilderness itself has verily blossomed forth a
rose. A bent and aged father can be met, carrying in a
basket upon his stooping shoulders the slime or common mud
from the river bank. This he carefully spreads upon the barren,
rocky ground, plants a few seeds therein, tends them as a
mother her weak and ailing child, and lo ! in its time the
flower, the perfect, beautiful, fragrant flower, springs forth, a
thing of beauty and a joy, if but for a day, to him whose life
knows so few of ordinary joys.

In this portion of the vicariate the distance between the

812

HEROES OF OUR OWN LAND.

[Sept.,

HERE THE INDIANS ARE GOOD.

missions is appalling, three hundred miles frequently separating
one reservation from another. The way of the missionary lies
partly on the immense lakes of the country, partly on the
rivers, and in their frail birch bark canoes the fathers are ex-
posed to the greatest dangers.

Sometimes, owing to cascades, the rivers are not navigable;
again, they are frozen ; in which case the missionary is
obliged to walk mile after mile, carrying both canoe and lug-
gage on his shoulders.

In February last a priest arrived at Prince-Albert from
Caribou, or Red Deer Lake, having during eighteen days
walked seven hundred miles, sleeping each night in the woods
or in the open, while the temperature touched sixty-five de-
grees below zero ! Yet, after one week's rest, he insisted on
starting off again to resume his labors.

And yet -it is in these far-distant missions that the mission-
aries see the most gratifying outcome of their efforts. " Here
it is," writes Father Briick, " that the Indians are very good,
and give great consolation to the fathers, while in the vicinity

1-900.']

HEROES OP OUR OWN LAND.

of Prince-Albert they are corrupted to the mar-
row of their souls by the white population." The
reason assigned for the rapid progress made by
this work of infidelity is, that the emissaries of
the sects are rich, while the work of Catholic
evangelization is hampered at every step by lack
of means. An association of the charitably in-
clined, banded together in some great centre of
civilization, could do much towards remedying this
state of things. Mission supplies for poor chapels are a crying
necessity ; intentions for Masses, which would be said promptly
by the missionaries, and especially alms of any and every kind
for the little orphans, who are day by day being lost to the
faith through want of place to shelter them all would be
thankfully received.

This zealous bishop and his co-laborers are not of a race
apart -though their heroism would seem to set them on a
plane far above our noblest dreams they are
men, men of God it is true, but men who, like
other men, once knew happy, easeful, perhaps
luxurious homes ; men of minds keen and
broad enough to realize to the full that they
have beggared themselves not only of crea-
ture-comforts, but of those unspeakable joys and aids accruing
from " things of the mind," from the pure and unadulterated
pleasures of intellectual companionship pleasures which in
themselves often console for the loss of more material ones.

No, the missionary must become a child with the untutored
child of the forest-; his ideas, his habits, his mcde of thought
must be simplified to meet the needs of the savage. Poetry,
science, all the wide field of literature, is closed to him
closed as other men know of it. And yet, in the eyes of those
who can see, and seeing, comprehend, he is a poet, a man of
science, the highest of all philosophers.

The days come to him, as to
other men, " with all the radiancy
of dawn ; from him they depart with
all the splendor of eve ; for him the
winds sport with the clouds ; the
mountains hold their sublime silence
against the horizon ; the sea sings
its endless monotone ; faith, hope,
and love, all teach him their great -f*

8i 4

HEROES OF OUR OWN LAND.

[Sept.,

lessons." And he sees, and
hears, and knows as other
men cannot, may not. In
many ways, to compassion-
ate his lot might seem nigh
unto presumption ; he is so
immeasurably superior to or-
dinary man. Like the Knight of the Holy Grail,

" His strength is as the strength of ten,
Because his heart is pure."

And yet to whom does there not come moments of weariness
and discouragement ? Who does not on some days find life's
burden well-nigh unbearable ?

A loving thought given to these far-away heroes, a kindly
word spoken in their behalf, a contribution great or small to
their noble cause, and you lighten the burden which they
never could carry were they not marching beneath the banner
of a God of Love. " For Love carrieth a burden without
being burdened, and maketh all else that is bitter sweet and
savory. . . . Like a vivid flame and a burning torch, it
mounteth upwards, and securely passeth through all."

1900.] CHRISTIAN ART : ITS MISSION AND INFLUENCE. 815

CHRISTIAN ART : ITS MISSION AND INFLUENCE.

BY KATHERINE F. M. O'SHEA.

" Truth crushed to earth shall rise again ;

The eternal years of God are hers ;

But Error, wounded, writhes with pain,

And dies among his worshippers."

HE return to Catholic ideals and methods of
teaching, in the adoption of music and of beau-
tiful and uplifting pictures as great moral in-
fluences in the education of the young, is one
of the most striking fulfilments of the poet's
prophecy that many cycles of years have given us.

For nearly four centuries the Catholic Church has been
called "idolatrous" just because of her appreciation of and
devotion to Art, but now a blinded world is beginning to ac-
knowledge that it was blind by adopting the very " idols " it so
long abhorred. Aye ! and is falling before them with a senti-
ment more nearly akin to idolatry than aught else, for the present
trend of popular appreciation is to apotheosize the artist and
his skill. Catholics venerate primarily the ideals represented.

Well, it is not the first time in this variable world's history
that persecutors have become advocates, and that anathema-
tizing Balaams have been forced to bless. " "Pis but the law
of the pendulum over again ! "

What the church sought was not merely to please the e) e
and train the aesthetic faculties, by the representations of
beautiful forms and faces, in the most harmonious colors and
groupings conceivable. Her prime motive was to elevate the
weak and earth-bound soul of man to the contemplation of
things divine, to enter his heart through his sense of the
beautiful, and thus conquer for the Lord this secret empire
of the soul, over which he so longs to reign. Here, then, is
the raison d $tre of Christian Art !

All psychologists now understand what the church has
always understood that beautiful pictures, as well as beautiful
music, have wondrous power over the souls of men ; and thus
it is that Catholic art, after an eclipse of centuries, is shining
forth from the darkness of prejudice with a radiance more
glorious than ever ; for the " rejected stone " has once again

8t6 CHRISTIAN ART : ITS MISSION AND INFLUENCE. [Sept.,

" become the head of the corner " in the great work of edu-
cation.

It is a curious and interesting study to remark the wonder-
ful reaction in favor of Catholic ideals and teaching which the
present century discloses. It began in the Oxford movement,
in which mighty intellectual forces shook the foundation of Prot-
estantism, as Samson the temple of the Philistines, until it is
falling in shattered ruins everywhere about us.

That great movement was like to the explorations of buried
cities, whence discovery brings to light treasures hidden for
ages beneath the hardened lava tide of volcanic eruptions. It
resurrected ancient doctrines and re-wrote religious history,
setting in motion the reactionary forces of man's thought that
have brought tens of thousands back to the church of their
fathers, and restored Christian Art to her rightful place in the
minds of men as one of the most beneficent ; gifts which the
Spirit of God has scattered upon the face of the earth, or that
his church has ever employed in its great apostolate.

Wonderful, indeed, is the change in our Protestant brethren's
ideas, when pictures of the Blessed Virgin and of saints are
hung upon the walls of public schools, and are found even in
Protestant churches!

If such things happened a quarter of a century ago, noth-
ing short of a public revolt would have resulted. Let us,
indeed, be grateful that better knowledge prevails, and that
broader culture is dispelling for ever, we hope, the narrow-
mindedness and blind fanaticisms that, for so many centuries,
have made abhorrent all things Catholic.

The church knew from the first that the enervated and
susceptible human soul needs many aids to lift it heavenward ;
therefore, those beautiful twin arts, painting and music, were
cultivated to highest perfection for the service of the Lord in
the conversion of the human race. Christian Art is but the
hand-maiden of Religion ; a teacher and preacher of Christian
truths. Her eloquence touches every heart, her expression
reaches all intelligences.

To the Catholic Church alone the art of the world belongs ;
for she was the inspirer, the encourager, and the generous re-
warder of all the great geniuses whose master-pieces are the
delight of enlightened peoples. To her alone the gratitude
of nations is due for enriching the world with the wondrous
art treasures which modern inventions make the property of
the poorest at the present time.

1 900.] CHRIS TIA N ART : ITS MISSION A ND IN FL UEN CE. 817

Christian art, like every other science, had to undergo a
long evolutionary process, during which period of time the
tide of its success ebbed and flowed with the tide of human
affairs that governed its progress.

It was born in the Catacombs of Rome, during the times of
direst persecution and poverty of the Christian Church. In
those first three centuries it necessarily remained in a very
weak condition, like all human growths deprived of the sun-
light and invigorating atmosphere of the upper world. The
impress of its first steps can still be seen on the tufa walls of
those subterranean churches in crude paintings of the Good
Shepherd, and in the symbolisms of lambs and vines, that
adorn the primitive sanctuaries and altars of those early fol-
lowers of Christ. The cemetery of St. Calixtus, the burial
place of the ancient popes, is the most elaborately adorned of
any of these sanctuaries, for here was buried the lineal suc-
cessors of Peter, "who walked with the Lord," and here, by
excellence, was due the utmost adornment of beauty that primi-
tive art was capable of. Every one knows that in that under-
ground necropolis were the only churches of the first Chris-
tians at Rome ; and that Mass was always celebrated over the
tomb of a martyr, the marble slab which the Catholic Church
still makes an essential part of the liturgical furnishing of the
altar being a constant reminder and relic of this ancient
custom.

During the first three centuries art remained in a very
embryonic condition, imperial persecution giving little time
for aesthetical culture ; and there was no active need of
the persuasive influence of pictures, as faith was strong and
love of God an abiding virtue in the hearts of all. When
one's soul is filled with the image of the beloved, pictures are
unnecessary to keep Him before the mind. It is only when
memory grows faint, and affections weaken, that art begins its
real mission.

So it was with the church. While the blood of martyrs
was its strong nourishment, and the spirit of the Apostles lived
with pristine vigor in the hearts of their disciples, artistic
representations of the Lord were not necessary to keep him
before their souls; though, indeed, had opportunity and cir-
cumstances permitted, they would, in the enthusiasms of the
human heart, have covered the world with his pictures, and
written his name on the very skies!

As soon as the church emerged from the Catacombs, her
VOL. LXXI. 52

8i8 CHRISTIAN ART : ITS MISSION AND INFLUENCE. [Sept.,

great mission of " preaching the truth to all nations " began in
earnest ; and art became her most powerful aid in this great
work.

Under the protection and patronage of Constantine magni-
ficent basilicas, which vied with the Temple of Solomon in the
glories of architecture and adornment, sprang into existence
everywhere. It was no longer right that " the Lord should be
a dweller in tents, while princes dwelt in houses of cedar";
therefore the Catholic temple, from the first, was built with
magnificence and adorned with beauty, in order that the Most
High God might have a house more beautiful than the houses
of kings, and that the glories of the ancient Temple might live
over again to delight his heart and draw down his blessings on
the builders ; as he said to David : " He shall build a house to
My Name, and I shall establish the throne of his kingdom for
ever."

Remembering the minuteness of detail given by God him-
self for the building of the Tabernacle, and the preciousness of
its composition, and having the scriptural description of the
great Temple of Jerusalem for a plan to guide them, the
first Christians built their temples with all the magnificence
and glory which the times afforded or human skill could con-
tribute ; thus it is that Europe is rich in ecclesiastical archi-
tecture which is a varied song of praise in honor of the Most
High, the delight and wonder of all lovers of the true and
beautiful. Christian kings and emperors, filled with the enthu-
siasms of faith and devotion, rivalled one another in emulating
David and Solomon in church-building. This gave impulse to
the arts of painting and sculpture, and to the arts of work-
ing in metals ; so that the great cathedrals of the world be.
came like living things, with a thousand tongues which sung
the praises of God in stone and iron, in bronze and brass,
in gold and silver ; and " Every creature praised the Lord."

Until the thirteenth century, however, the art of painting
remained in a very unsatisfactory state, not only because of
existing social, political, and religious conditions, but also be-
cause of the crude methods of work and the difficulties of
distemper mediums. It must be remembered that the use of
oil as a medium was not discovered until the fourteenth
century, all painting before that time being executed in dis-
temper.

Although the art of painting is " coeval with the pyramids,"
and classic Greece boasted of a Polygnotus, an Apollodorus, a

1900.] CHRISTIAN ART : ITS MISSION AND INFLUENCE. 819

Zeuxis, and an Apelles called the " Raphael of Antiquity "
still the best judges doubt whether the works of these
ancient masters ever attained the perfection of the moderns,
on account of the difficulties cited, whilst their proficiency in
sculpture has, we believe, never been quite equalled.

At the resurrection of the church from the tombs of the
dead, her first work was the conversion of the pagans, and the
pagans were all image-worshippers ; hence arose the first diffi-
culty in the way of Christian Art, for it was not prudent to
give fresh impulse to the pagan idolaters, by giving much
encouragement to the making or painting of images, until
their darkened minds had been trained to discover the differ-
ence between the worship of God and the worship of crea-
tures, and to accept the doctrine of a Supreme Ruler. For
over a hundred years the struggle between Christianity and
paganism went on, with varying success, until the reigns of
Theodosius and his sons, when the religion of Christ became
the religion of the civilized world.

" The heathen oracles were silent, the sibylline books were
burnt," and, at the beginning of the fifth century, the im-
perial eagles of the all-conquering Caesars were lowered at
the foot of the Cross, and the empire of the Crucified King
embraced the known world !

Then began to flourish the arts of peace ; and painting, in-
troduced from Eastern Byzantium by Oriental artists, took
on the splendors of the rainbow and the glory of the sun-
light at one and the same time. Sacred pictures were gor-
geous productions of splendid coloring against dazzling back-
grounds of shining gold. Skill in drawing and beauty of ex-
pression, however, were lost arts. They went out of the world
with the extinction of Classic Greece, and their remains were
buried under the soil of centuries and the ruins of stately
Athenos. This might be called the "Age of Color"; for, dur-
ing its reign, the very sunlight was painted with the brilliant
hues of scriptural " violet and purple and scarlet twice dyed,"
as it streamed through the tinted windows of chancel, choir,
and apse.

So great. was the liberty taken by the artists of this time
that the church found it necessary to make their innovations a
matter of interest to a council in order to keep Christian art
safe within its sacred limits as an expounder of Christian belief
so constantly assailed by numberless heresies ; thus, in the
second Nicaean Council, held in 787, it was decreed: <4 It is not

82O CHRISTIAN ART : ITS MISSION AND INFL UENCE. [Sept.,

the painters but the holy fathers who have to invent and dic-
tate; to them manifestly belongs the composition; to the
painters, only the execution." By such watchfulness as this
the Catholic Church kept Christian Art to her holy mission
and saved it from sinking back into the low ideals of yet liv-
ing pagan principles.

Cimabue, in the thirteenth century, was the first to break
loose from the stiff formalisms and ugly lines of the Byzantine
school, and give life and individuality to his compositions. How-
ever, long before his day, Giovanini in the tenth century, and
Petrolino in the twelfth, had striven for freedom from the es-
tablished rules, though in vain. It was not yet time to cast aside
the extreme asceticisms of art ideals, adapted as necessary coun-
teracting influences to the many grossnesses of barbaric ideas.
The church encouraged art in all its forms, however, for guilds
were established in every Italian city and the respectability of
artists was an essential quality insisted upon, the sacredness of
their vocation being preached to them with zeal and fervor.
As a consequence of this zeal for art, painters and archi-
tects were a pious and holy class of men, fully alive to the
responsibility of the gifts bestowed upon them by the Most
High, and earnestly, nay, enthusiastically, 'desirous to use their
talents in his service. In Siena, one of the great art centres,
no immoral person was permitted to work upon her great
cathedral. In many academies of art a student guilty of any
offence against morality or lacking reverence was suspended
for a time, if not condignly punished by expulsion.

"Scourges of God" the barbarians had called themselves, and
no doubt they were, for cultured paganism had despoiled the
Lord of the souls of men long enough, and naught but an
outpouring of his wrath has ever brought back his recreant
creatures. What the flood did in Noe's time, and the rain of
fire in that of Lot, the fierce barbarians did for Europe.

Under the reign of those savage chieftains of the North
whose religion was passion, whose law was the sword men
became brutalized, rough in speech and manners, savage
in tastes and inclinations. For a decade of centuries these
warlike peoples, Goths, Visigoths, Huns, Heruli, Saxons, and
Vandals, and other barbaric nations, kept the world in a per-
petual ferment of wars, invasions, and violence, until, again,
the Prince of Peace conquered through the teachings of his
church, and mankind, after ages of miracles, examples of heroic
sanctity, sublime self-abnegation, and inspirational preaching on

1900.] CHRISTIAN ART : ITS MISSION AND IN PL UENCE. 821

the part of Christians, was once more suppliant at the feet of
the Crucified !

The church began her second great work of conversion at
once. Martyrs multipled, and schisms and heresies flourished
like tares, among the good grain that sprang from Christian
blood ; yet, confident in the promise of the Lord, she con-
tinued to assail the very " Gates of Hell," calm in the secur-
ity of her ultimate victory.

Here, then, was the time when Christian art really began
its greatest mission, for sacred books would be as useless to
these wild barbarians as tracts and Bibles are to-day to the
untutored savage. Then it was that the walls of churches be-
came pictured Bibles, and the lives of Christ and of his saints,
of his patriarchs and prophets, were written in that universal
language that all might read and understand !

Never has the art of printing so well taught the truths of the
Bible as those glowing picture stories of mediaeval days ! And
what has not Catholic art done for the Book of Books itself?
It treasured its sacred pages as jewels beyond price. It wrote
the Scriptures on rarest vellums, in letters of gold, and bound
them in precious metals adorned with gems! No mother ever
guarded the precious heirlooms entrusted to her for her chil-
dren as the Catholic Church cherished and defended and safe-
guarded that precious heritage of truth.

The Scriptures were her joy and her glory the sole proofs
of her claims ; the foundation stones of her every doctrine.
The church building, its form and divisions, were all biblical.
It was the Ark, or Ship of Christ, sailing over the stormy bil-
lows of the world. It was built in the form of a cross. The
vestibule was the outer court ; the nave, aisles, and transepts
formed the holy place; the sanctuary and altar, the "holy of
holies " ; and so on, throughout the entire structure, from the
cross-crowned pinnacles of steeple and towers to the huge
foundation stones ; from the foliated, many-hued windows of
the chancel to magnificently sculptured doors of bronze, the
Scriptures were taught in the unsurpassed eloquence of art ;
and thus found echo in the big, ungoverned but nobly dis-
posed hearts of the Northmen, whom beauty could teach and
music could tame.

With the revival. of learning in the twelfth century was laid
the foundation of that "new birth" of art which took place in
the thirteenth, and grew to its zenith in the genius of Michael
Angelo and Raphael, in the sixteenth century.

822 CHRISTIAN ART : ITS MISSION AND I NFL n ACE. [ Sept.,

During the reign of the popes was the Golden Age cf Art,
for they have ever been the most ardent and liberal promoters.
But for them and their devotion to its cause, not one of the
art treasures of the world to-day would be in existence.

Not only did they promote the highest ideals of Christian
art, and encourage and stimulate it to still greater perfection,
but they gathered the remains of ancient art from desolate
ruins and devastated cities, even digging down into the earth,
where the accumulations of ages had buried them, for the
beautiful remains of pagan sculpture. These they restored, as
best they might, that the exquisite productions of those old
Greek masters might teach the new world of artists, thirteen
hundred years after them, the lost arts of expression and pro-
portion. Under the kingdom of the Papacy art, science, and
letters flourished with a degree of brilliancy never excelled.

During the days of Michael Angelo, Buonarotti, and
Raphael da Urbino art attained its highest degree of excellence,
and its greatest power of expression, because they were the
living results of an aesthetic culture and an intellectual de-
velopment unknown since the days of ancient Greece, and
brought into the world again by that " revival of learning "
begun in the twelfth century by the popes and fathers of the
Catholic Church.

The monks were the most learned men in the world ; and,
next to the popes, the most ardent promoters and lovers of
art.

" The Benedictines, under Providence, became the great in-
struments of civilization in modern Europe," writes one Prot-
estant historian ; and even Hallam (paradoxical, illogical,
ungenerous, superficial, and unfair Hallam) says : " We owe the
agricultural restoration of the greater part of Europe to the
monks/'

"We are outliving the gross prejudices which once repre-
sented the life of the cloister as being from first to last a
life of laziness and imposture," says Mrs. Jameson in Intro-
duction to the ' Legends of the Monastic Orders.' We know
that but for the monks the light of liberty, literature, and
science had been for ever extinguished ; and that for six cen-
turies there existed for the thoughtful, the gentle, the inquiring,
the devout spirit no peace, no security, no home but the
cloister. There Learning trimmed her lamp ; there Contempla-
tion pruned her wings ; there traditions of Art, preserved from
age to age by lonely, studious men, kept alive in form and

1900.] CHRISTIAN ART : ITS MISSION AND INFLUENCE. 823

color the idea of a beauty beyond that of earth, of a might
beyond that of spear and shield of a Divine sympathy with
suffering humanity !

"The Benedictines instituted schools of learning; the Augus-
tinians built noble cathedrals ; the Mendicants founded hospitals ;
all became patrons of the fine arts, on such a scale of muni-
ficence that the protection of the most renowned princes has
been mean and insignificant in comparison. As architects, as
glass painters, as mosaic-workers, as carvers in wood and metal,
they were the precursors of all that has been achieved in
Christian art ; and if so few of these admirable and gifted men
are known to us individually and by name, it is because they
worked for the honor of God and their community, not for
profit nor for reputation."

How many know that Roger Bacon was a Franciscan, and
Albertus Magnus, Fra Angelico, and Fra Bartolommeo were
Dominicans ?

Art was the expression of man's delight or wondering com-
prehension of God's work. Its aim was to teach men that they
are not beasts ; involving, necessarily, spiritual or religious in-
formation about themselves.

Pagan art was sensual of the body ; Christian art was
spiritual of the soul ; teaching lessons of immortality.

The idolatry of the human, as in Greek art, was but
the apotheosis of self ; expressing the idea of God in human
beauty, drawing down the Infinite to the finite lowering the
Creator to the place of a creature.

The mission and aim of Christian art was to lift man's
thoughts to God and place restraints upon sensualism and
selfishness, by the preaching of higher ideals in the sublime
eloquence of holy pictures.

Before the invention of printing every Benedictine abbey
had its library and its scriptorium, where silent monks were
employed from day to day and month to month in making
transcripts of valuable works, especially the Scriptures. In
those days a copy of the Bible was worth a king's ransom.
To these monks the world owes the multiplication and dif-
fusion of copies of the Bible, as well as the preservation
of the greater part of the works of Pliny, Sallust, and Cicero.
They were the fathers of Gothic architecture ; they were the
earliest illuminators and limners, and the first inventors of the
gamut, and first to institute a school of music, in the person of
the Benedictine Guido d'Arezzo. 'they were the first agricul-

824 CHRISTIAN ART : ITS MISSION AND INFLUENCE. [Sept.,

turists who brought intellectual resources, calculation, and
science to bear upon the cultivation of the soil. Of them it
can be truly said : " They made the desert to bloom and the
wilderness to blossom as a rose."

The sublime conceptions of Michael Angelo, the exquisite
idealism of Raphael, and the tender holiness of Fra Angelico's
spirituality are but the exponents of a culture more noble,
more perfect, more complete in its intellectuality, its refine-
ment, its all-embracing " progressiveness," than any culture
the world can boast of before or since.

That was the Golden Age of Art, when color and form
and expression, united in a perfect whole, blossomed forth
upon the world in ideal beauty. Then it was that Angelo's
sublime conceptions awed and charmed a world, while Raphael's
heavenly ideals lifted men's thoughts to the skies. Then it
was that Christ and his Mother were the undying inspirations
of artists' souls the sweet and gracious sovereigns of their
hearts. That was the time when, as in days of patriarch and
prophet, men delighted in bringing every best and perfect gift
as * first-fruits " to the service of the Lord, in the adornment
of his temples. "The Last Judgment" made men "think in
their hearts " of the rewar v d of sin ; and the Madonna di San
Sisto shamed them into sorrow with its mysterious pathos !
The church, ever alert to the wants of the times, preached
repentance and salvation in every marvellous picture of that
time, when Art was the hand-maiden of the Lord, and her
glory was supreme.

At that time Catholicity had contributed everything which
civilization could boast. Slavery had been abolished, woman
elevated, gentleness of manners implanted by chivalry. In the
moral world Christian charity ruled ; in the aesthetic, architec-
ture, music, and art. Universities were established in all
nations, those of Oxford, Cambridge, Louvain, Prague, Bohemia,
Vienna, Basle, Salamanca, Leipsic, Alcala, Paris, Bologna, and
Ferrara being the most .renowned.

In the scientific world and the world of letters the greatest
savants were all children of the church ; whilst in the world
of eloquence, if we may so call it, the oratory of the Christian
priesthood outshone the glories of Demosthenes and Cicero.

The learned Barthelemy gives us a picture of Rome in the
age of Leo X. which is as comprehensive as it is interesting.
It reflects the progress of art in Catholic days before the
Reformation.

1 900.] CHRIS TIA N ART : ITS Mi SSION A ND I NFL UEN CE. 825

" At Rome," he says, " my traveller beholds Michael Angelo
raising the cupola of St. Peter's ; Raphael painting the galleries
of the Vatican ; Sadolet and Bembo, who afterwards were
cardinals, then holding the position of secretaries to Leo X.;
Trissino giving the first representation of " Sophonisba " the
first tragedy composed by a modern; Beraldi, librarian of
the Vatican, engaged in the publication of the Annals of
Tacitus, then recently discovered in Westphalia and purchased
by Leo X. for five hundred gold ducats the same pontiff
offering places to the learned men of all nations who would
settle in his dominions, and distinguished rewards to such as
would bring manuscripts before unknown. In all quarters were
founded universities, colleges, printing houses for all kinds
of languages and sciences ; libraries, which were continually
receiving accessions of works from those sources, or were late-
ly brought from regions where ignorance yet maintained her
empire. The number of the academies increased to such a
degree that there were ten or twelve at Ferrara, about four-
teen at Bologna, and sixteen at Siena. They had for their
object the cultivation of the sciences, belles-letters, lan-
guages, history, and the arts. In two of these academies
one of which was exclusively devoted to Plato and the other
to Aristotle, his disciple the opinions of ancient philosophy
were discussed and those of modern philosophy partly fore-
seen. At Bologna, and likewise at Venice, one of these so-
cieties superintended the printing establishment, the casting
of types, the correction of proofs, the quality of paper, and,
in general, whatever could contribute to the perfection of new
editions. In every state the capital, and even the towns of
inferior importance, were extremely covetous of knowledge and
fame. Almost all of them offered to astronomers observatories,
to anatomists amphitheatres, to naturalists botanic gardens, to
the studious in general collections of books, medals, and antique
monuments, and to talents of every kind marks of considera-
tion, gratitude, and respect."

Such was the "ignorance" of which the Church is accused
such her "antagonism" to the arts and sciences!

The age of Leo X. was so glorious as to be compared to
that of Pericles by learned writers, and it was in this Golden
Age of learning, of art, of science, of music, that the " Refor-
mation " of Luther sprang into existence, and chaos followed !
" Then came the Deluge." Churches were despoiled and de-
faced, and art works destroyed with vandal fierceness ; houses

826 CHRISTIAN ART : ITS MISSION AND INFLUENCE. [Sept.

of learning broken into and whole libraries of precious books
and manuscripts torn into fragments and burned into ashes.
The patient labors of centuries demolished in a few short
years ! No wonder the Protestant historian, Cobbett, calls
that religious upheaval the " Devastation " !

Authority was thrown off and license prevailed. Morality
was a forgotten virtue, and Luther (unhappy Luther ! ) cried
out in the bitterness of his heart : " Swinish vices prevail
everywhere, but especially here in my own Wittenberg ! "
Unfortunate man ! he was but reaping the whirlwind which
his petty jealousy and stubborn insubordination had sown.

" Protestantism," to use the words of a great mind, " clipped
the wings of genius, and made her plod on foot. It viewed
as superstition the pomp of divine worship ; as idolatry the
chef cTceuvres of sculpture, of architecture, and of painting."

No wonder that since the sixteenth century, as an art au-
thority says, " scarcely a new subject has been added to the
repertory of art."

" The symbolizing idealism of the Middle Ages died out,"
boasts Liibke, in his History of Art, speaking of this time.
" Realism unfolded its banners and started on its conquering
march through the world." In other words, sensualism reigned ;
and instead of the heavenly purity and saintly aspiration of
Catholic idealism, were preferred the disgusting realisms of
drunken orgies, and the worship of Nature instead of Nature's
God. Paganism, in a new form, had returned to the world,
and art once again became its slave.

'' The surest sign of the decadence of art, or of anything,"
says an eminent critic, " is when it falls into sensualism, for
realism is the lowest idea of it ; on the contrary, idealism
is the highest, for it bases itself on universal truth." Tired
with a surfeit of realism, a nauseated world is turning back
to the uplifting idealism of Catholic art, with sick souls
of longing for the "good things " of the Father's table.
"Broken cisterns" cannot long assuage the thirst of the human
soul!

<HE DHI^IP OV IF HE IF^ISH I^AIN.

BY MARGARET M. HALVEY.

ATURE has surely the gift ov tongues in my own

land far away :
An' one among 'em I 'm missin' sore, an' more

wid each passin' day;
Not lilt ov the bee, nor lay ov the breeze, nor

thrill o' the blackbirds' sthrain

I'm lovin' 'em all, bud it 's lonesome most for the dhrip ov the
Irish rain !

Now fallin' soft from the hoverin' clouds, like the croon ov a lullaby
For the homesick flowers that wor once as stars, set high in
the archin' sky ;

Now wid thud in the thatch, an' tap at the hatch, an' tinkle

agin the pane,
Givin' us greetin' an' cheer betimes the sootherin* Irish rain !

An' whin it has passed how the earth laughs out in the face
o' the cl'arin* sky!

"Is it rainin' it was?" says the laggard sun "ah, thin let me
kiss you dhry."

The soople daisies listen an' lift, an* the dogrose br'athes again,
An' cowslips whisper to fairy.flax the praise ov the tindher rain!

From a cuddled thrush in the hedges' hush a clear " come-all-

ye " rings,

An' all the blessed stillness stirs wid the whirr ov unfoldin' wings,
Till you think ov a Dhruid among his choir, whin the wood

was the warriors' fane,
An' the great oaks fended the Beltaine fire from the dhrip ov

the passin' rain !

There 's a spot near the heart ov the ould land set, an' the best

ov my life is there,
Where dust wid dust has for cinturies met to the measure ov

" keen " an' prayer :

'Tis long since the chrism ov lovrn' tears on its shroudin' green
has lain,

Bud to freshen it still, at GOD'S dear will, comes the dhrip ov
the kindly rain !

No wondher its measure lingers, thin ; for oh, like the Ban-
shee's moan,

It 's only for ear ov the Celt to hear the message within its tone ;
An' loyal hearts ov the exiles know that for raquaim an' rafrain
They would choose some day (an' twor theirs to say) the dhrip
ov the Irish rain !

828 THE JEW IN EUROPE [Sept.,

THE JEW IN EUROPE THE CHRISTIAN'S
ANTAGONIST.

BY CHARLES C. STARBUCK.

T is hard to say whether the anti Semites or the
pro-Semites are the more unreasonable, although
unquestionably the latter are the more hurrfane.
The worst extremes of anti-Semitism, of
course, as illustrated in the Anti-Juif, are inde-
scribably vile, and remind us of nothing so much as of the worst
ravings of the Orangemen or the A. P. A., or the kindred
parties among the English Nonconformists. They are outside
the bounds of common decency and common humanity. Even
such anti-Semites as M. Gue>oult, in the Tablet, who do not
forget that they are gentlemen, appear hardly less virulent in
fact. I can make nothing else out of several of Gue>oult's
letters than that he reproaches the English Catholics, as with
a crime, with their unwillingness to condemn Captain Dreyfus
simply because he is a Jew. It is true he speaks of over-
whelming proof against him, but we have to receive this on
his word. Certainly it has not been produced to the world.
That which the world has seen seems mostly to tell the oppo-
site tale. The sum of Guroult's contention, and that of his
fellows, appears to be simply this : A crime has been done ;
a Jew was accused of it. This is proof enough. Any Protestant
who denies it in France is not a true Frenchman, and any
Catholic who denies it in England is a dubious Catholic. It
seems a good opportunity for the Holy See to repeat the
admonition of Paul II., that a Jew does not lose the right to
justice by being a Jew. Moral truisms, after all, seem to be
the dicta which need repeating the oftenest.

It is curious what an exact counterpart to this appears in
a Protestant paper published in Mexico. It said during the
war : A powder magazine has been blown up in California.
Some think this was done by Spanish Jesuits. Indeed, there
can be no doubt of this, for of what wickedness are not Jesuits
capable ? With the reverse application, here is the exact echo
of Guroult and such as he, allowing for the blatant impudence
of a vulgar author.

1900.] THE CHRISTIAN'S ANTAGONIST. 829

REASONABLE ANTI-SEMITISM.

It does not follow, though, that because there is unreasona-
ble and raving anti-Semitism, there is not such a thing as
reasonable and just anti-Semitism. What is an anti-Semite? It
is simply a man who believes the Jews to be in Christendom
a disintegrating and dangerous force. Need a man, therefore,
lose his head and rave like a lunatic, and treat every individual
Jew as a mere wild beast, that is to be knocked on the head
at sight ? St. Paul, in I. Thessalonians, declares that the Jews
of his time "please not God, arid are contrary to all men."
Yet he did not cease to love his countrymen, to pray for them,
to labor for them, and to foretell their ultimate conversion.
He was at once an anti Semite and a pro-Semite.

There is a true tolerance founded on justice and humanity.
This is Divine. This has not much resemblance to that mawk-
ish liberalism which is so common now, and which is nothing
but*a striving to be in the mode. Orthodoxy was once the
mode, now it is unbounded amiability towards everything ex-
cept orthodoxy. The one dangerous opinion now is to believe
that any opinion is dangerous, and to speak and act accord-
ingly. Those who do this, it is assumed, ought to have no
quarter shown them.

One would think that this proposition : The Jews are a
disintegrating and dangerous force in Christendom, was self-
evident. How can it be otherwise ? The two religions are so
related to each other that neither can leave the other out of
mind. Judaism differs from Christianity only in two points,
but these are vital. One is : Jesus is not the Messias. The
other is : The law of Moses is permanently binding on all who
claim to be Israelites. Christianity differs from Judaism in
the reverse order. First, Jesus is the Messias. Second, The
law of Moses has ceased to bind since the coming of Christ.
Christianity, therefore, in the eyes of every orthodox Jew, is
a gigantic heresy, imposture, and usurpation. It is a heresy,
for it denies the continuing obligation of a divine law, and
sets in the place of Messianic honor One who has no right to
it. It is an imposture, for it supports its claims by an account
of miracles which were either pretended or diabolical, and by
the affirmation of a Resurrection which never took place. It
is a usurpation, for it affirms that its adherents, and they
only, have an ascertained share in the new covenant foretold
by Jeremias. How, then, can a religion diffused throughout

830 THE JEW IN EUROPE [Sept.,

Christendom, and having such an apprehension of Christianity,
be otherwise than a constantly corrosive force, a force of con-
stant negation ?

The great Jew James Dannesteter remarks that from the
very beginning of Christianity Judaism has constantly supplied
a force of negation and sarcasm, at wojk even in authors who
are not themselves Jews, from Celsus down to Voltaire, and
to the present.

SOME REASONS FOR ANTAGONISMS.

The New Englander for 1881 has an article on the Jewish
question which is worthy of close attention. It is quite free
from anti Semite prejudices. It is simply an attempt to show
why it is that anti-Semitism has gained such a force in Central
and Eastern Europe, for at that time it was almost confined
there. The facts adduced are certainly startling, especially the
rapid increase in the number of Jewish land-holders ; the in-
crease in the number of Jewish university students; the rela-
tively higher standing of Jewish students ; the longer life of
Jews. None of these things, it will be seen, imply any fault
in the Jews. They have been kept for ages out of holding
land ; what wonder, then, that they should be eager to pos-
sess it ? The universities have been shut to them ; what won-
der that they should now throng to them? If their eagerness
to rise, and the keen Semitic minds of a large proportion, and
the wonderfully absorbent Slavonic minds of a larger, place
them high in university standing, surely this is a merit, not a
fault. If their manner of living, or the quality of race (we
know how long-lived th,eir kinsmen the Arabs are), insure them
a longer life than Europeans generally, how are they to blame
for this? Yet a race which is feared is not likely to be loved
the more by proving that its increase in numbers and wealth
and power is natural and healthy, and therefore likely to be
permanent. All this will make it more an object of dread, and
therefore of hatred. Its merits in such a case are sure, by the
most, to be turned into sins. We know how largely the New
England Protestants turn marriage into unfruitful unions.
Their families, therefore, are small, although it is very far from
being true that all their small families are to be so explained.
The Catholics there, we know, are free of this crime, and their
families are large. Yet, while there are some Protestant
preachers, and zealous ones, who praise them loudly for this,
one of the foremost, writing in a review, treats it as little

1900.] THE CHRISTIAN'S ANTAGONIST. 831

short of an affront that they should presume to have large
families when the Protestants choose to have small. Indeed,
the bitter popular imputations upon them for daring to in-
crease take no account of the question whether their increase
is sound or unsound. Do the French hate the Germans less
because the population of France is waning and that of Ger-
many is waxing ?

JUDAISM SETS UP ANTAGONISTIC IDEALS.

However, it is unjust to European Christians to lay their
dislike of the Jews simply to Jewish thriftiness and studious-
ness and sound living. There are other reasons for dislike and
apprehension. After all, the foundation of society is and must
be religious. Fundamental ideas and beliefs must of necessity
control secondary. The contention in Protestant countries that
Catholicism, and in Catholic countries that Protestantism im-
pairs social unity, appears self-evidently true, however it may
be pressed extravagantly and intolerantly. Yet here there is
unity as to the supreme ideals and the supreme Exemplar.
Judaism, on the contrary, has not the same supreme ideals
a'nd rejects the supreme Exemplar. Distinctive Judaism, as
fully developed after the rejection of Christ and the retribu-
tive overthrow of the Temple, and set forth in the Talmud,
consists in the segregation of the Jews, so far as possible,
from all other men, and their compact union into one body
by enclosure in a network of invincible tradition and use by
means of the 613 precepts of the Law made out by the Rab-
bins. This, as a late Jewish writer of Germany remarks, has
so completely enveloped every act of orthodox Jews in a
scheme of rigorously defined Jewish ethics that Jewish life is
pinned down entirely to it, as the supreme object. Even the
belief in immortality, he remarks, has not essentially modified
it. That is a thing by the way. The orthodox Jew lives es-
sentially for the earth. A Boston Rabbi has lately opposed
the Christian ideal, as one of love and Self-sacrifice, to the
Jewish ideal, as one of "sane selfishness." To be sure, he has
just before called the Jewish ideal one of " truth and righteous-
ness " (as if truth and righteousness were opposed to love and
Self-sacrifice), but it is truth and righteousness so far as these
are instrumental to a " sane selfishness."

CHRISTIAN IDEAS OF SELF SACRIFICE.
We see, then, how essentially irreconcilable the Jewish and

832 THE JEW IN EUROPE

the Christian ideals are. To be sure, this Rabbi, like most
non-Christians, blunders essentially in his interpretation of
Christian self-sacrifice. This is, indeed, opposed utterly to
" selfishness," and denies that there can ever be a " sane self-
ishness." Yet it is as far as possible from being void of a
just self-regard. Indeed, its self-regard looks to supreme
achievement of good. As Goldwin Smith has pointed out, the
self-renunciation of the Gospel is the exact opposite of the
self-renunciation of Buddhism. Buddhism demands absolute
self-renunciation of the personal being. This is not the self-
renunciation of love. Buddhism knows nothing of love, beyond
a general sympathetic willingness to deliver all things, and to
be delivered with them, from the misery of existence. As
Buddhism knows nothing of God, or good, or a holy scheme
of advancing excellence and blessedness, there is no possibility
of real self renunciation. Nothing can be renounced except
that which has a value. Now, Buddhism acknowledges no
value in anything or any one. All existence is finite, and each
finite form is an endless round of wretched illusions. The only
good is the purely negative good of fading into non-existence.
All attempts to make of Nirvana something positive are, as
Max Miiller shows, a deflection from the proper meaning of
Nirvana, and from the true teaching of Buddha. Self-renun-
ciation, in any true meaning, is only possible in Buddhism in
the following sense : Once in many ages a single man, become
a Buddha, may be about to enter into non-existence, and may
refrain from doing so during the course of one life, in order
the better to instruct all mankind in the way of final extinc-
tion. This is certainly not a very heroic self-renunciation, but
it appears to be the only one conceivable in Buddhism. Genu-
ine Buddhism, it is true, has long been nearly extinct.

Christian self-renunciation is, of course, summed up in our
Lord's words: "He that findeth his life shall lose it, and he
that loseth his life for my sake shall find it unto life eternal."
Here the right, and the duty, of eternal self-assertion of the
individual being are emphatically affirmed. The very founda-
tion of our Lord's teaching is the eternal worth of each indi-
viduality, of personal existence, as being capable of entering
into an ever-during covenant with God, and of becoming, when
consummate and glorified, the indefectible expression and vehi-
cle of God's infinite scheme of goodness and blessedness. Self-
renunciation of the personal being, therefore, and of essential
good, is an impossibility in Christianity. The Christian, no

1900.] THE CHRISTIAN' s ANTAGONIST. 833

more than the Jew, is called to renounce, or allowed to re-
nounce, anything of his fundamental end of being. The differ-
ence lies in the relation to eternity. The Christian recognizes
himself as the citizen of eternity, and this life as the germ of
eternity. Everything, therefore, which appertains only to this
life is essentially indifferent. It is to be held loosely, and
easily given up for any higher end, of ourselves or others.

This, then, is Christian self-renunciation. It is possible for
a Christian to practise it, for existence has for him an infinite
worth, and the present existence, as being subsidiary to it, has
a finite value indeed, but a real and great value. What he
gives up, therefore, is truly given up, whereas in Buddhism
there is nothing given up, for there is nothing to give up, ex-
cept illusion and vanity.

THE NOTION OF CHRISTIAN LOVE DIFFERENT FROM JEWISH.

In like manner, Christian love is different from all other
love, not in degree merely but in kind. The benefit and
blessedness which a Christian (whether explicitly or implicitly
such) wishes to every human being is an infinite benefit and
blessedness. Infinitude is not finitude augmented beyond
capacity of thought. It is absolute completeness, eternal and
immutable, as contrasted with mutable and transitory fragmen-
tariness. Christian love, therefore, resting in eternity, is deeply
kind, because it wishes to draw all men into the same blessed-
ness as its own, and because it has no need to be aggressively
watchful for its own mundane interests. Talmudical Judaism,
on the other hand, is concerned with this world. Its love is
only a form of " sane selfishness," recognizing the instinctive
affections of the family as necessary to the happiness of the
man, and the instinctive interests of the tribe as necessary to
guard the family. Here is abundant room for a " sane " selfish-
ness, but selfishness it remains, decently tempered but still
frankly evident. The Boston Rabbi has undoubtedly struck
the true ideal of true modern Judaism. The outermost
boundary of real active regard is the tribe, the Jewish people.
All beyond that are strangers, if not virtually enemies. Hostility
towards them may be active or latent, but they are never in-
cluded within any true community of interests. Emil Reich, in
the Nineteenth Century, quotes, as expressive of genuine Jewish
feeling, involved in the very nature of the Jewish religion, the
remark of a fellow-Jew made to him, that, although an English
subject, if the actuation of Jewish nationality involved the
VOL. LXXI. 53

834 THE JEW IN EUROPE [Sept.,

sacrifice of English nationality, he would not hesitate to sacri-
fice it.

This does not in the least imply that Jews in general are
plotting against the country in which they live. Of this there
seems not the slightest evidence. Attempts to prove such a
thing in France have confessedly broken down utterly. The
overwhelming majority of Jews, doubtless, as of all other men,
are sufficiently engaged in earning their bread. The bulk of
Jews, no more than the bulk of Gentiles, are rich. And, as
we know, among the rich by far the greatest number of the
inordinately rich are Gentiles, not Jews. The interests of most
Jews, as of other men, are involved in the general organism of
a nation. This is not true everywhere. It does not appear to
be true in Poland and Russia. It is doubtful whether it is
true in Posen, Galicia, Roumania, and the adjacent regions.
Elise"e Reclus, a pronounced Positivist, but an exceedingly
careful man in his statements, an even painful striver after
fairness, speaks of the Jews of those regions as laying a web
which entangles all Gentile business and prosperity in subordina-
tion to itself. I shall come back to this.

ZIONISM AND ITS REASON.

In the West, however, in Germany, Switzerland, Holland,
Belgium, France, England, and America, there seems no doubt
that national life has laid strong hold on Jewish feeling.
Doubtless, even in these countries all those Jews that are not
gravitating towards a readiness to be shaken off into the bosom
of Christianity (of whom there are not a few) would let all
these Gentile nations and nationalities go to destruction if it
would assist Jewish nationalism. Yet as there is no way
perceivable in which the destruction of any one of these nations,
qf of all of them, would do Judaism any good, there seems no
reason why we should doubt that the mass of Jews in each
country are swayed by the national feeling of that country,
like other men. It is true, patriotic impulse in them is not as
strong as in others, for several reasons. Their religion fuses
religion and nationality inseparably. Emil Reich defines
Judaism as that which finds the mediation with God in the
nation of Israel. This is why the Zionistic movement is
gathering strength. A nationality that is scattered all over
the world is only a nationality in aspiration. In order to be
realized it must have at least a territorial nucleus. This ex-
plains Zionism. This is a perfectly legitimate movement. It

1900.] THE CHRISTIAN'S ANTAGONIST. 835

agrees with the modern principle, that allegiance is alienable.
Men are not guilty of disloyalty to their present nation be-
cause they meditate joining with others to found a new nation.
Every colonist, indeed, does that, and views ultimate detachment
from the mother country as at least possible. Yet certainly
when men own that their religion cannot be perfectly practised,
that its ideals cannot be perfectly realized, except in a distinct
nation, they cannot well be regarded as citizens in the fullest
sense.

A body of men may be loyal to a government which per-
secutes them, even to the death. The early Christians were
so to Rome. Loyalty, indeed, with them, as with the Romans
generally, was, as it were, a law of nature. The Empire had
a self-subsisting power which nobody thought of contradicting.
The cruelty of an emperor was felt as a scourge, but hardly
awakened resentment, even in its victims. The Roman world
was felt as the sphere of peace and of ordered society, and
unfaithfulness to it was nearly impossible. Yet the Jews
abhorred it, after subjugation as before. They held themselves
in no need of it. It was to them a nightmare. Were it gone,
they might hope for the revival of their own nationality. As this
could not be, however, they accommodated themselves to it as
to other disagreeable necessities of nature. So long as it was
pagan they found some consolation, and gained some favor
with authority, by helping to persecute the Christians. But
when the cross was planted on the throne, their long time of
woe began, and their malediction on themselves : ' His blood
be on us and on our children," first went into full effect. So
long as the Christian Empire endured there could be no talk
of Jewish loyalty. Sullen submission was all that could be ex-
pected. To hate the murderers of Christ was easy, to practise
the forgiveness of Christ was difficult, and few tried. Even in
our day, and our country, we have known the child of a
baptized Jew to be derided as a " Christ-killer " by his school-
fellows, who probably had few marks of Christianity but this
mockery of Christ's Christian countryman.

THE LOYALTY OF THE MEDIEVAL JEW.

When the Empire broke up, and during the Middle Age?,
there could be little talk of loyalty anyhow, except to individ-
ual lords. So far as the Jews were allowed to swear homage
to a lord, there seems no evidence that they were less faithful
and zealous than other vassals. Generally, however, they were

836 THE JEW IN EUROPE [Sept.,

claimed as the immediate vassals, or rather property, of the
king. He protected them as far as he could from other men's
oppressions, and squeezed them as nearly dry himself as would
consist with keeping them in his kingdom. The kings who
were not plunderers, a Saint Louis, an Edward I., were apt to
banish them. A John robbed them and kept them. So long
as they were lucrative to the king, they could afford to be
haughty to the subjects. Green and other historians have re-
marked on the ludicrous dissimilarity of Scott's portraiture of
Isaac of York to the facts of the Middle Ages. A shivering,
aged craven, asking nothing, besides the return of his loans
with promised interest, but that he may be suffered to practise
his religion obscurely, and to slip through life unnoticed, is not
the Jew of the Middle Ages, or of any age. The Jews have
small occasion to thank Scott for such a caricature of their
position, and true temper. Protected as they were by royal
power, and by papal excommunications fulminated against their
murderers, they could afford to carry their heads high, and
they did carry them high, and do. Even Dreyfus brought the
conspirators against himself by their anger at his overbearing
demeanor. Whatever the Jews may be, they are not and never
have been cravens and weaklings. The individual Jew is said
to be characteristically timid. He clings strongly to life. Yet
deeper than this is the haughty consciousness of Divine favor,
the invincible disdain of Christian heretics. This temper has
been manifested in every age, and is but slightly dampened by
modern amenities. Whether it be the sneering contempt ex-
pressed towards Christ by Rabbi Schindler, of Boston, or the
bold denial by Rabbi Philippson, of Cincinnati, in the New
World, that Christ was any better than any common Jew of
his time (which by plain inference, in view of his calmly asserted
claims, implies that he was^ very much worse), the temper of
modern Judaism is precisely the same temper of malignant and
contemptuous hatred towards the Redeemer and his people
which influenced those Jews of Smyrna who helped the heathen
to bring fagots for the funeral-pile of Saint Polycarp.

THE JEWS IN SPAIN.

Emil Reich's admission, that the ruin of a Christian nation-
ality would easily be undertaken by Jews if it helped to ad-
vance the Jewish nationality, receives illustration in the history
of Spain. It is fashionable now to expend great pity on the
poor Jews of Spain as innocent and helpless victims of Spanish

1900.] THE CHRISTIAN* s ANTAGONIST. 837

bigotry and greed. This compassion is unwarranted for the Jews
banished by Ferdinand and Isabella. If there is any right fun-
damental to men unconvicted of crime, a right deeper even
than that to personal freedom, it is the right of abiding on the
soil of their birth. No divergence of belief or usage from theic
countrymen can deprive them of this. The popes, though they
did not proclaim this right, recognized it practically, for while
they opened their states to banished Jews, they never banished
Jews from their states. The Jewish subjects of Ferdinand and
Isabella had been guilty of no conspiracy. The utter over-
throw of the Moorish power took from them all motive of coiu
federacy with the Moors. We shall presently see, I think, that
there is much palliation in the former history of Spain for this
act of the sovereigns, but nothing can justify it. Besides, look
at the barbarousness of the conditions : allowed only a few
months to dispose of large landed possessions, and then for-
bidden to take with them the gold and silver which alone would
be serviceable to them ! Reduce the banished from the extrar
vagant estimate of 800,000 to the true number, as ascertained
by Prescott, 160,000, and this still remains one of the atrocious
deeds of history.

Yet we have no right to forget that the Christian Spaniards
had had to sustain a contest of seven centuries with the Mo*
hammedans for their nationality and their religion, and that in
this long contest the Jews had sided more often with the Mos-
lem than with the Christian. Seldom, I believe, have Jews sided
otherwise. How could they ? Islam is Semitic, polygamistic,
legalistic, denying the fact of the crucifixion ; abhorring the
thought of a Son of God ; calling Jesus, indeed, Word, Mes-
sias, Lord, and his mother Lady, and teaching the sinlessness
of both, but putting Christ nearly out of sight behind the final
revelation declared to have been given to the Arabian Apostle
of God. The high historical authority of Hefele informs us
that the Spanish Jews had repeatedly conspired and intrigued,
leaning on the Moslem power, for the establishment throughout
the Peninsula of the Semitic religion, in its two forms, on the
ruins of Christianity. Their attempts finally failed, but for cen-
turies they seemed by no means chimerical. Hefele condemns
the act of the two sovereigns, but he shows that it was not
wanton, but had deep roots in the past.

JEWS AND THE SLAVONIANS.

The Polish and Russian Jews (Slavonic in race, like their

838 THE JEW IN EUROPE [Sept.,

Christian neighbors, as I am informed by the eminent Semitic
scholar Professor G. F. Moore) hold it as the orthodox belief
that all men but Jews perish at death. So we are informed
by Jewish writers of that region. To them, therefore, Chris-
tians are not so much the objects of hate as of serene indif-
ference, like other brute creatures. This explains their cheer-
ful exploitation of Christians, against which the Russian gov-
ernment has thought it necessary to intervene by measures so
harsh directed, however, against a very great danger.

Now, it is ridiculous to say that the two or three millions
of unbaptized Slavonians, who regard the seventy or eighty
millions of baptized Slavonians, Catholic or Orthodox, as
simply like the beasts that perish, can have any real community
of national feeling with them. We might as well talk about
having a community of national feeling with our sheep and
beeves. We have a kindly feeling for the poor creatures, but
we plough with them, or shear them, or slaughter them, as we
have occasion. The only right we acknowledge in them is the
right to be treated kindly while they live. Therefore the re-
fusal of the Russians to own the Jews for their countrymen is
only the milder correlative of the refusal of the Jews to own
the Russians for their human fellows. Nevertheless, it is more
than doubtful whether Russian disfranchisement of the Jews
can be justified. As Simon de Montfort says : " What concerns
all is the concern of all." The rights of men are antecedent
to their creeds. They rest on their humanity. Whatever other
men may think of our future, they have all manner of present
concerns in common with us, which they are capable of dis-
cussing in a friendly fashion, in spite of any creed. Moreover,
the more thoroughly they see we are like them in the present,
the less likely they are to hold us as of a lower grade of being,
incapable of immortality. Persecution might, indeed, have the
effect of exasperating them into thinking that extinction is too
good for us, that we must be meant to survive for torment ;
but such a change of creed would certainly not be desirable.

However it may be in France, it seems certain that in Ger-
many most of the violent anti-Semitism is found in those that
have little of Christianity left about them except hatred to the
Jews, just as Reformed Jews may be defined as those whose Ju-
daism consists mainly in hatred to Christianity. Where this is
not so, they seem to be dissolving into Christianity. It is
astonishing how long religious hatreds survive religious faith.
Anti Semites in Germany sometimes deny outright that Christ

1900.] THE CHRISTIAN' s ANTAGONIST. 839

was a Jew. Say they : " He was much too fine a specimen of
a man for it." Could there be a more detestable mixture of
intolerable patronage towards the Redeemer, evident unbelief,
and the grossness of voluntary ignorance?

JEWS AND THE CONTROL OF THE PRESS.

Christians, dwelling in the atmosphere of the Bible, might
judge certain measures of restraint necessary against .Jewish
oppositeness of interests, but they could not easily become vio-
lent, persecuting anti-Semites. It is true they have a good
deal of temptation, especially in Germany. Jewish antipathy
to the Gospel is more distinctly virulent there than anywhere
else. Jewish capitalists gain large rights of church patronage,
and use them to keep out active and earnest pastors. The
press is largely controlled by Jews (Goldwin Smith says that it
is falling mare and more under Jewish control in our country),
and it is used to pour scorn on Christian enterprises, especially
on foreign missions. This control of the press by Jews is most
notorious at Berlin. The Christliche Apologete of Cincinnati,
which is unfriendly to anti-Semitism, and decidedly hostile to
Pastor Stoecker, nevertheless complains that the Jews of Berlin
use the press not only to revile Christian faith, but Christian
m :>rals. Indeed, the energetic malignancy of Judaism is seen
in England as well as in Germany, though not so constantly
and intensely. Neither the Rothschilds nor the Montefiores
appear to be in the least tinctured with it. Indeed, the younger
Montefiore, like our own Emma Lazarus, has virtually called
our Lord divine. It is not that all Jews are malignant. How
can we say that a majority are? What evidence have we of
it ? What right have we to say, or even to presume, of any
particular Jew whom we meet, that he is a hater of Christ?
He may be, and probably is, simply a worshipper of the God
of Abraham according to the rites and doctrines of his fathers,
without going much into questions concerning the Messias.
Very possibly he may hold, with certain great Rabbis, that
Jesus, though not the Messias, is "the way to the Messias."
A modern Jew remarks that a majority of his people are a
good deal more concerned to know the New Testament than
the Talmud. We ourselves have known Jews to quote the
New Testament as of canonical authority in contradiction to
the Law, while plainly they had not a thought of quitting their
people. It is not a strange thing for them to say that Jesus
has a higher place than Moses in Paradise.

840 THE JEW IN EUROPE [Sept.,

ANTAGONISM TO THE GOSPEL.

Therefore, when we say that Judaism survives in unabated
malignancy towards the Gospel, what we mean is, that there
is a large body of Jews (how large no one can tell) who have
accepted the logical alternative between the reception of Jesus
as the Christ and the rejection of him as an impostor and
heretic. Even those Jews who do not venture to attack him
personally in print, do not hesitate to attack his Apostles.
Thus, we have seen quoted from a Jewish periodical of Cin-
cinnati the remark that Jews ought not to transfer their Sab-
bath to the Sunday, if only because Christian scholars have
shown that the observance of Sunday, as the Day of the
Resurrection, rests on imposture. By " Christian scholars," of
course, are meant such men as Strauss. The degree of malig-
nity which is involved in branding the Apostles as impostors
is simply unfathomable. Yet it is not merely intense but
active. Some time since a deputation of Jews, addressing the
Bishop of Liverpool, haughtily demanded of his lordship the
dissolution of " the disreputable Society for the Conversion of
the Jews." Here we see illustrated Emil Reich's remark about
the sacrifice of British nationality to Jewish. We might as
well go back of Magna Charta at once as to ask that England
or America should curb the right of men holding any opinions
to convert others to them, so long, in Mr. Gladstone's words,
as they do not appeal to violence or grossness. We are not
pleased to hear of Buddhist or Mohammedan missions in our
country, but it never occurs to us to appeal to the law against
them, or to treat the missionaries as if they were guilty of a
personal affront against us. Indeed, how can I show my
good-will to another man better than by endeavoring to make
him partaker of the supreme treasure of truth ? That early
Quaker who went to Rome to convert the Pope was doubtless
animated *by the purest benevolence, and was so received. It
is true, the Pope converted him ; but this only shows that His
Holiness too was inspired by benevolence, and had more
reasons behind it. The Quaker matron who went to Constanti-
nople to convert the Sultan was not successful, but was re-
ceived with reverence and dismissed with honor. Yet when
Christians join with other Christians in the endeavor to per-
suade the disciples of the Old Economy that the Hope of
Israel is already here, we see a deputation of Jews telling the
president of the society that it is an immorality, and demand-

1900.] THE CHRISTIAN'S ANTAGONIST. 841

ing its dissolution in a haughtiness of style that plainly con-
veys a threat. And, indeed, immorality is liable to suppression
by law. If it is immoral for Christians to try to turn Jews
into Christians, why should not Jews abate this nuisance in the
exercise of that large discretion which the common law allows
for the abatement of nuisances generally. Assuredly they will,
as soon as they dare.

With a mendacious insolence beyond description, these
tell the bishop that, whatever evil thing a Jew may do, it is
simply impossible that he could do such a thing as to turn-
Christian. Here we have all possible crimes of a Jew treated
as of less account than his turning Christian. Of course, then,,
they stand ready to proceed against such an abominable
attempt. The infamous insinuation implied here against the
early church is, of course, understood and intended. And yet
we have known Christian divines, with indescribable fatuity, to
set forth Jews as far more grandly tolerant than Christians !

We know that the Fathers were disposed to believe that
as Christ was a Jew, so Antichrist will be a Jew. This expec-
tation has strong probabilities for it. Nowhere, for doctrinal
and for historical reasons, in the memory of the deepest
wrongs suffered and inflicted, does it seem possible that there
should be such an immitigable hatred in the breast of any
other human being towards the Redeemer as may be con-
ceivably gathered in the breast of a Jew. To be sure, a Jew,,
even aided by half his race, could not do very much. Yet
there are Gentiles enough ready to follow a brilliant lead.

Some years ago Moncure D. Conway, sharply censuring a
Jewish lady of London, attacked her not because she maligned
Christians, but because she asked other Jews not to malign
them. Doubtless when the time comes there will be multi-
tudes of these brilliant coadjutors of Antichrist starting up
from among the baptized. At all events our business is, not
to use the weapons of Antichrist in the service of Christ.

Andover, Mass.

842

THE PIONEER CATHOLIC MISSION.

[Sept.,

THE PIONEER CATHOLIC MISSION IN THE
NORTH-WEST.

BY E. A. BRIDGER.

HE inexperienced traveller in the North-west
finds a constant source of amazement in the
rude chapels which he encounters in all parts
of this vast area, and the bronzed and hardened
prospector and the veteran trapper, accustomed
as they are to the sight, can never fail to be impressed by
these silent monuments to the devotion and sacrifice of those
noble men who left behind them the hopes and ambitions of
early life to bring to the Indians of that region the light of
the Gospel, to the advancement of which they had consecrated
their lives.

In Montana and Idaho the traveller finds these white
crosses and tiny spires in the most unexpected places, and the
surprise is invariably a pleasant one. No valley was too se-
cluded and no mountain range
too inaccessible for the zeal-
ous ardor of these black gown-
ed messengers of peace, and
no tribe was too fierce for
their earnest endeavor. And
thus it is that the white travel-
ler from the gold-hunter of
the early days to the pleasure-
seeker of the present finds
in lonely vale and upon tower-
ing peak the white cross which
tells of saintly devotion to the
Gospel of Peace.

The crucifix penetrated
where the sword was power-
less in those days of old, and
in the reclaiming of the wil-
derness of the North-west the
priest has played as important
HE PROVIDED FOR THE AGED." a part as the soldier. With-

1900.]

THE PIONEER CATHOLIC MISSION.

843

SQUAW WITH PAPPOOSE.

out their peaceful agency the
white man's progress would have
been retarded for years, and the
settlement of the fertile fields
and the development of the
mines of wealth would have
been seriously checked.

The priest's was a peaceful
mission. No trumpet of fame
has ever heralded the noble
deeds of sacrifice and devotion
wrought by these holy men.
Their names are comparatively
unknown, and their sole earthly
reward is found in the veneration
and respect entertained for them
by the sons of the forest and
plain whom they came to reclaim
for the kingdom of their Master.

Long before the great North-
west had ceased to form a
portion of " the Great American Desert " of the atlas, these
black-robed priests had begun their work of Christianity and
civilization. The earliest of the gold-seekers found the Catho-
lic missions an established feature of this unknown country,
and the outposts of the fur companies were scarcely in advance
of the westward march of these heralds of the Gospel. They
were more than priests. They were physicians, teachers, and
counsellors. Many a miner and trapper owes his life to the
ministrations of these men, and to the Indian they are still in
memory the embodiment of the peace and good-will which they
taught. At the name of Father Ravalli the sternest Indian
will display emotion, and even old Chariot, the stubborn chief
of the Bitter Root Valley Indians, mentions his name with
reverence. It was of these men that Longfellow wrote :

" On the western slope of the mountains
Dwells, in his little village, the Black Robe
Chief of the mission ;
Much he teaches the people,
And tells them of Mary and Jesus."

It was nearly seventy years ago that the Indians of the
tribes now represented upon the Flathead Indian reservation

844 THE PIONEER CATHOLIC MISSION. [Sept.,

first learned of the Christian religion. The bearers of the tid-
ings were men of their own race Iroquois attaches of one of
the fur companies, who had been taught the new religion in
the missions of the Mississippi valley. The story told by these
messengers awakened a desire among the Selish (Flatheads) to-
know more of the wonderful religion, and to have among them
some of the white teachers of whom they had been told.

Around the council fire the matter was discussed again and
again until, in 183-1, it was decided to send representatives to
St. Louis (two thousand miles distant, and known to the
Indians through the fur traders) to secure for them a Black
Gown, who should tell them the story of the new religion.
No tidings ever came back of this party, which probably was
exterminated by some of the hostile tribes through whose
territory it had to pass. Undaunted by this occurrence, a
second delegation was sent forth, and this time the Indians
secured a promise that a priest would be sent to them.

Patiently they waited until 1837, when they sent a third
embassy to the settlements. This party was massacred by the
Sioux, and still no priest came. But the desire for knowledge
of the new religion was so strong that the Indians were not
deterred by the failure of these two successive expeditions, and
in 1839 two young Iroquois braves set out to run the gauntlet
of foes and to brave the hardships of the long journey. Their
attempt was doubly successful. They made the journey safely,
and brought back with them Father De Smet, of the Society
of Jesus the pioneer of Christianity in the North-west. One
of these young Indians, whom the fathers christened Peter, set
forward in haste to prepare his people for the coming of the
Black Robe, while the other, Ignatius, remained to accompany
the missionary on his long journey to an unknown land and an
unknown people. It was April, 1840, when Father De Smet
and his dusky companion joined a west-bound caravan for the
trip to the Rocky Mountains. The priest was stricken with
fever on the plains, but recovered, and in June, at Green
River in Wyoming, met a delegation sent by the tribe to
welcome him.

One month later, July 14, he met in the valley of the Bitter
Root sixteen hundred Indians Selish (Flatheads) and Pend
d'Oreilles and immediately began his labors as a missionary.
It is related that the chiefs of the assembled tribes offered
him the temporal sovereignty of their people, but he taught
them that his mission was of a different nature. The legends

1900.]

THE PIONEER CATHOLIC MISSION.

845

of the church have it that, on the evening of that day, " two
thousand Indians recited a prayer and chanted a hymn." Before
the month had ended Father De Smet had baptized six hundred In-
dians, and the new religion was well established in the wilderness.
The brave old man remained for several months studying
the people and the country, and then decided to return to St.

" HE MET A DELEGATION SENT BY THE TRIBE TO WELCOME HIM."

Louis for aid. The way was long and the journey perilous-
tribes of hostile Indians occupying much of the intermediate
country but the black gown of his society was a sure defence,
and after many privations he reached his friends, and in the
spring of the following year returned to his Indian charges
with two priests and three lay brothers of his order.

These lay brothers were mechanics, and under their direc-
tion the first mission church in what is now Montana was
erected. The location chosen was on the Bitter Root River
near the present site of Stevensville, the exact spot being
where the wagon bridge of that town now spans the clear blue
stream which waters this remarkable valley. On Rosary Sun-
day, 1841, a cross was raised, and tearful faces were turned
toward heaven while the pioneer of Christianity prayed for
the success of this new mission. But the tears were tears of
joy and hopefulness, and the fathers carried on their work
unceasingly. Not only did they labor for the spiritual welfare
of the red men, but they also sought to improve their physical
condition. The Indians were instructed in agricultural pursuits,

846 THE PIONEER CATHOLIC MISSION. [Sept.,

which they eagerly followed, and their condition was materially
improved.

A chapel and a residence were completed that year, and
surrounded with a palisade for defence, for there were hostile
tribes across the mountain range.

This was the first mission in the North-west, and here was
planted the germ which was likened to a mustard seed.
Faithfully and devotedly did the heroic priests labor in their
new field, and the Eternal Father whom they served indeed
blessed their efforts. In the rude log church which was erected
in the shadow of the cross which was planted on that Rosary
Sunday the faithful teachers led their savage charges in the
way of Christian truth. Their daily life was one of constant
service and untiring devotion to duty. They never faltered in
the good work which they had undertaken, and they ministered
faithfully to the moral and physical needs of the Indians
priests, teachers, and physicians, as the case might be.

It is a source of regret that the log building which served them
as a church in these early days was afterward pulled down when
the permanent mission was located a little farther up the river.

After spending a busy year at the mission, organizing the
work and studying the needs of the new field, Father De Smet
returned to St. Louis, and from there went to Europe, where
he obtained new assistants to accompany him to his field of
labor in the distant wilderness.

In the latter part of 1843 they sailed from Antwerp for
the Pacific coast, the party including several priests and lay
brothers, and six sisters of the Congregation of Our Lady.
After an uneventful, although tedious, journey they reached
Fort Vancouver in August, 1844. The fathers and lay brothers
then made the perilous overland journey to the Bitter Root Val-
ley in safety, and, with additional help, Father De Smet took up
again the work which he had inaugurated three years before.

Among the fathers who came with Father De Smet from
Europe at this time was Father Ravalli, the grandest figure in
all the history of the North-west. A man of wonderful ability
and amazing capacity for work, he entered into the duties of
the mission with a zeal which could have been inspired by no
ordinary motive. His career has no parallel in the annals of
civilization. He was a man among millions.

With this strong support Father De Smet was able to ac-
complish much in the way of civilizing the Indians. The work
progressed rapidly, and for six years was uninterrupted. Then
the advent of the fur traders caused trouble among the

1900.]

THE PIONEER CA THOLIC MISSION.

847

Indians, and the unbounded faith which they had had in the
fathers was disturbed. The position of the missionaries became
dangerous, and in 1850 the mission was regretfully abandoned.
For sixteen years it was unoccupied.

One can imagine the grief of the fathers as they saw the
results of their long years of denial and labor swept away,
and that by the faithlessness of the whites. It was a sad
blow, and the missionaries felt it keenly. They had possessed
the unbounded confidence of the red men until men of their
own race set the example of perfidy and fraud, which the
Indians followed, it must be confessed, more readily than they

" THE ASSEMBLED CHIEFS OFFERED HIM TEMPORAL SOVEREIGNTY."

had learned the lesson of the priests. The discontent of the
Indians was aggravated by the invasion of their hunting grounds
and grazing lands by the trappers and traders, and they rebelled.

The fathers driven out, the Indians soon relapsed into the
old conditions and habits of their savagery, and it was not
until 1866 that the mission was reoccupied. In that year
Father Ravalli returned to St. Mary's" dear old St. Mary's,"
he always called it and he never left it again. There his
remains lie in the little grave-yard near the church, amid
scenes which he loved so dearly.

When he returned he found it necessary to build a new
church, and a location was chosen about a mile from the
original site where the present buildings were erected. The

848 THE PIONEER CATHOLIC MISSION. [Sept.,

work of the mission was carried on successfully until the Bitter
Root Flathead Indians were removed to the Jocko Agency.

Since that time the church is but rarely opened for service.
It is only when occasionally a priest visits the mission that
the doors are opened, and the walls once more echo the
chants and responses of the impressive Catholic service. Every-
thing is preserved, however, as it was left when the mission
was regretfully abandoned by the priests and by the Indians.
The latter now return frequently in family or tribal groups to
visit the scenes so dear to them, and when they speak of the
place it is always sorrowfully, for they were deeply attached
to it, and suffer ail the pangs of homesickness for their fathers'
home and the home of their own younger days.

The buildings are all well preserved and are scrupulously
cared for by John Rainsville, the custodian, who is always
willing to guide visitors through the old structures, and who is
eloquent in his quaint and earnest description of the work
and achievements of " the old father." Under his escort it
has been the good fortune of the writer to visit these old
buildings, hallowed by sacred associations, on several occa-
sions, and each time the impression made has been deeper and
more significant.

The church proper is 15 by 54 feet, built of hewn logs and
chinked with mortar. The front of the building is clapboarded
and painted. The log walls are neatly whitewashed. In the
middle of the front is a tower, 5 feet square and 25 feet high,
surmounted by an octagonal belfry, in which swings a small bell.

The interior is still furnished the altar with its images and
candelabra ; the nave with chairs, many of them made by the
fathers and lay brothers by hand labor ; the little gallery with
wooden benches. Everything is as clean as if service was to
be held there immediately. Half way down the nave is a
diminutive confessional, formed by a small latticed screen
built out from the wall. As the visitor gazes at this, he can
fancy the venerable father listening with averted head to the
self-accusations of his dusky charges, and dismissing them in
peace. In fact, everything about the mission is tenderly sug-
gestive of some phase of the life of this remarkable man.

Adjoining the church at the rear, and communicating with
it by a small door opening at one side of the altar, is a low,
one-story log building of one room, which was evidently used
by Father Ravalli as a study. Here is his heavy, old-fashioned
mahogany secretary, still containing many of his papers, and
upon the walls are religious pictures, as he hung them years

1900.]

THE PIONEER CA THOLIC MISSION.

849

VOL. LXXI. 54

850 THE PIONEER CATHOLIC MISSION. [Sept.

ago. Here the zealous priest performed much of his work,
planning for the improvement of his charges, and for the ad-
vancement of his church. It is a room which has played a
vitally important part in the history of Montana.

Back of this second building, and attached to it, is a still
lower one, which, while apparently built at an earlier time,
yet forms a portion of the united structure. In this room
Father Ravalli died. Here is his medicine chest, from which
he administered to the physical ailments of all who suffered.
Here, too, is the bed upon which Father Ravalli spent the
last few years of his life, hopelessly crippled yet always cheer-
ful, and from which his soul took flight to the eternal reward
so richly won.

One cannot help but pause here and gaze reverently about
him. It is a hallowed spot. It preaches a silent sermon of de-
votion and self-denial that even the most heedless must consider.

Opening from the rear of this room are the kitchen, dining-
room, and store-room used by Father Ravalli and his asso-
ciate, the venerable Father D'Aste.

Extending north at a right angle from the rear corner of
this building is a line of sheds and poultry houses, and at
right angles to these again are the stables and wagon sheds,
all built by those dauntless missionaries, and all still in good
repair. The workmanship of all is excellent. Surmounting the
pyramidal roof of the dove-cote is a weathercock, fashioned, it
is said, by Father Ravalli from an old tin can, and still show-
ing traces of the bright colors with which it was originally
decked. It shows how the great mind found recreation and
enjoyment in little things. It has been begged by scores of
people, but the place will not be despoiled by relic-hunters
while vigilant John Rainsville is in charge.

Across the front of the mission building is a row of stately
cottonwood-trees, planted more than thirty years ago by the
priests, forming a delightful foreground to the picture pre-
sented by the historic group of buildings.

Such is St. Mary's Mission to-day. A monument to bravery
as great as was ever recorded in history's pages ; to devotion
as unceasing as was ever sung by minstrel or by bard ; of a
zeal unsurpassed in the annals of the church ; of a genius
which shines more brilliantly as passing years enable a fuller
comprehension of its grandeur. It tells the story of the sublime
devotion of a master mind to a beloved cause. " Greater love
hath no -man than this, that he lay down his life for his friend."

IT is refreshing to find in fiction the true
priest. We have been treated by popular writers
to all kinds of bizarre characters parading in priestly
robes, so that when the kindlier, more spiritual and
cultured character, true to life, is given to us we
are only too ready to commend the literary artist. Especially
has the priest in Ireland suffered at the hands of the novelist.
Carleton has been read by thousands, and his outrageous pic-
tures of Irish life have been taken altogether too seriously by
English readers. Carleton was no lover of the truth, but
rather a miserable pervert who catered to the likes and dis-
likes of his readers, and to please these latter he could not
heap too much ignominy and ridicule on the devoted Irish priest.
Lever was without any religion, except perchance a vin-
dictive hatred to things Catholic, as well as a very gross
ignorance of the same. It may be believed that not a little
of the preposterous talk about Masses for the dead, and much
of the false knowledge concerning the custom among Catholics,
has come from these novels. Mickey Free's little tale about
Father Roach's teaching concerning the souls in purgatory, as
well as " his six Masses a day, two in the morning, two in the
afternoon, and two at Vespers," reflects Lever's own ignorance
about Catholic teaching. The pastoral theology among the
Irish priests as well as among the Irish people has always been
in accord with the best standards of orthodoxy. Thackeray
and Disraeli, too, have done their share to pervert the truth
in relation to the priest in fiction, though in a different way
from Carleton and Lever. The type of the latter was an over-
fed, big-hearted, and simple-minded charlatan, who maintained
his supremacy over the people by a joke now and a stroke of
the lash then ; but the priest of Thackeray and Disraeli was
the human snake worming into family secrets, gliding among
the innocent, if not to corrupt, at least to gain the ascendency
by crafty means. He was, to be sure, a man of education and
culture, but full of mystery, a student of most recondite sub-

852 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Sept.,

jects; but this knowledge was only a means to the end he had
in view. He was a political schemer, a tyrant over the con-
science, a general disturber of family and social relations.

The American novelist, too, has tried his hand at priest-
making with as little success. Harold Frederic's Father Forbes
is a man of refinement and education to be sure, devoted to
his duties, " head, adviser, monitor, overseer, elder brother,
friend, patron of his flock," but he has no faith. He is a de-
vout reader of Herbert Spencer rather than of the Bible. He
believes in Agnosticism, and goes through his duties in an in-
sincere way. What a gross libel this is on the character of
the American priesthood every one who has the least acquaint-
ance with the clergy knows. A. S. Hardy's Father Le Blanc
and Blanche Willis Howard's Thymert in Guenn are types of
French clergy. Father Sheehan, in My New Curate, has
painted from life the types of the Irish clergy as he knew
them. His chapter on the dinner where he assembles the
priests of the Country-side, and then draws the contrasts be-
tween the three generations of the clergy the first educated
under the refugees from the French Revolution, the second
the early Maynooth priest, and last of all the new curates,
each class with its own striking characteristics, is one of the
best chapters in the book.

In view of the many caricatures of the Catholic priest by
the non-Catholic novelist, Robert Buchanan has given us a
sketch * both pleasing and true to life, and in the portraiture
of his two priests, Father Anthony and Father John Croly,
he has delineated the truest type of a whole-souled, refined,
and delicately bred gentleman, as we know the Irish priest of
to-day to be.

Paul Sabatier is well known as the author of a Life
of St. Francis of Assisi a life which had many merits but
still greater defects. It is one of the most hopeful signs of
the times that the attention of those outside of the church
should be directed, as this publication proves, towards the
lives and actions of those wjio lived and died within the fold ;
however imperfect and disappointing, and in some respects
regrettable, may be some of the immediate results, there yet
seems reasonable ground to look forward to a closer bringing
together of the minds and of the hearts both of those within
and of those without as an outcome of these studies. The

* Father Anthony : A Romance of to-day. By Robert Buchanan. New York: G. W.
Dillingham.

i goo.] TALK ABOUJ NEW BOOKS. 853

Tractarian movement in England began in the study of the
Fathers a study commenced in hostility to the church and
with a view to attack her, and ended in the conversion of
many to the faith, and in that wonderful revival of Catholic
doctrines of which we are the witnesses.

The work of St. Francis in the middle ages, and the re-
aovation of society accomplished by him and his disciples, are
matters of common knowledge ; nor can it well be outside of
the order of divine Providence that the analogous evils of
modern society, the love of material comfort and luxury, and
the accompanying suffering of large numbers, should have
turned the eyes of the head of the church towards that work
as affording a model along the lines of which remedies for our
own evils may be fjound. It seems also providential that towards
the same saint and his work the minds of Protestants should
be directed by writers like M. Sabatier ; that by them St.
Francis, not Luther or Calvin or any of the products of Prot-
estantism as such, should be recognized, to use M. Sabatier's
own words, as the most noble figure of the Christian Church.
"St. Francis is not sufficiently well known, nor loved as he
deserves to be/' says M. Sabatier. It is as a contribution to
the better knowledge and love of, St. Francis that this volume*
is published, and as such we welcome its appearance.

The work is, however, primarily and principally a critical
study of texts and manuscripts. Only specialists in Franciscan
literature will be able to pass judgment upon the many com-
plex questions which this part raises. M. Sabatier maintains
that the Speculum Perfectionis, which he has by critical methods
disengaged from the Speculum Vitce of 1509, is the biography
of the saint, written within a year after the saint's death by
his companion, Brother Leo, and that it supplies the part which
he some years ago showed was missing of the Legend of the
Three Companions of St. Francis. His argument is to a large
extent based on a criticism of style, and in this respect re-
sembles the Higher Criticism of Holy Scripture. In fact, M.
Sabatier looks upon the recovery of this Life as a triumph of
scientific criticism and of the persevering application of its
principles to the Franciscan documents. To the elucidation of
those principles and of their result a large part of this volume
is devoted. To scholars and critics this will be the most inter-
esting part of the work. To ourselves, and to the generality

* Speculum Perfectionis : sen S. Francisci Assisiensis Legenda Antiquissima, Auctore
Fr at re Leone. Nunc primum edidit Paul Sabatier. Paris: Librairie Fischbacher. 1898.

854 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Sept.,

of Catholic readers, the Speculum Perfectionis itself will be of
more value for the reasons indicated above. To the critical
discussions 214 pages are devoted ; to the Speculum Perfectionis^
with the notes and Special Studies, together with various docu-
ments elucidating it, 336 pages. There is a very carefully pre-
pared and full index, which will greatly help the student.

One is rather curious to learn just how the usual readers
of Marie Corelli's books will take to her latest production *
the most pretentious since her great attempt at portraiture
of the Sorrows of Satan. The new volume is certainly not
without considerable merit merit, too, of an order not over-
common in writings that have issued from the same author.
But besides exhibiting most serious and distasteful defects, it
may not unlikely altogether fail of winning fair approval of
its good points. We rather incline to such an opinion of the
public who favor the class of writers among whom this author
is numbered as to force a doubt concerning their interest in
delicate sentiment and sturdy common sense. Still what there
is of value in the volume before us might be placed under
these two headings.

The moral lesson conveyed concerning parental responsi-
bilities, and the rather cleverly drawn representation of the
ill results of a false educational system, commend the book
to discriminating readers. A large proportion of artificial
emotion, crude workmanship, ill-advised adornment, and inartis-
tic phrasing will meet with just criticism. The construction
of the story is simple, and in its worst aspects not bad ; the
incidents are almost wholly free from the weird improbability
that has characterized some previous novels by the same writer ;
and on the whole one finds refreshment in a variety of sweet
and touching, if not strikingly original, action.

Those who appreciate the peculiar role of the Emperor
Julian will understand at once both the necessity and the diffi-
culty of making in his biography a thorough and detailed
study of contemporary conditions. This is a point which the
scholarly M. Allard has justly conceived to be the proper
animating motive of a new work on the great apostate.f By
a breadth of view, by a great wideness of range in treatment,
and a precision of the sort already well known to readers of
his previous publication, the distinguished savant has in this

* Boy. By Marie Corelli. Philadelphia: The J. B. Lippincott Company.

\Julien VApostzt. Tome premier. By Paul Allard. Paris: Li brairie Victor Lecoff re.

TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. 855

new work won fresh laurels. Nothing will contribute more to
lend interest to the book, as nothing will enhance its value
further, than his careful study of the abundant matter of the
numerous writings left by Julian himself. These have been
used to great effect in the preparation of this first and most
interesting volume.

We are promised at the end of the second volume a criti-
cal study of the documents consulted. They may be awaited
in the confident expectation of honest and thoroughly his-
torical discussion at the hands of a most competent writer.

These three volumes* (for the last two parts are bound
together) form, in our opinion, the best English guide-book for
those whose interest in Rome is exclusively religious. The
only work which deserves comparison with it is the French
Bleser-Roger Guide. The latter is in some respects superior,
for it gives plans of the basilicas and of many of the churches.
The lack of these is the sole desideratum of this work.
Among other special features, a complete list of the 352
churches of Rome is given, and a large number of them is
described. It is perhaps doing an injustice to this hand-book
to compare it with any guide-book, for while it serves all the
purposes within the limits indicated of a guide-book, it is dis-
tinctly of a higher order. It gives full information about the
Christian side of the history of Rome, about its churches, its
ceremonies and customs. The light afforded by recent dis-
coveries has been made use .of, as well as of researches into
the many large works which have been written, and to which
so few nowadays have the patience to refer. The second part
treats of church ceremonies, not merely as found in Rome but
as they are in use throughout the church, and is so arranged
as to be useful everywhere. The part devoted to Monasticism
is full of information about the rules and practices of re-
ligious orders, not only of men but also of women.

Whether the authors are Catholics or not we cannot quite
satisfy ourselves. The tone of reverence and respect for every-
thing Catholic is nearly all that could be desired; in marked
contrast with such a book as Mr. Hare's Walks in Rome.
But here and there expressions appear which seem to indicate
a non Catholic authorship eg., " The centralizing power of the

* Hand-book to Christian and Ecclesiastical Rome. Part I. The Christian Monuments
of Rome ; Part II. The Liturgy in Rome ; Part III. Monasticism in Rome ; Part IV. Eccle-
siastical Rome. By M. A. R. Tuker and Hope Malleson. New York: The Macmillan
Company ; London : Adam and Charles Black, 1897-1900.

856 TALK ABOUT NEW BOOKS. [Sept.

Papacy." However this may be, its authors are in full
sympathy with the church, and are scholars who have devoted
their labors to the practical purpose of rendering Rome ac-
cessible to English readers. It is another indication, too, of
the influence which the centre of Catholicity is exerting over
the world at large and of the interest which it is exciting every-
where.

Various points might offer themselves to criticism, if such
were desirable. For example, on page 141 of the third part,
we are told that St. Francis rejected the seeking of personal
salvation through the life of the counsels. This is a mistake,
for the Franciscans, taking the three vows of poverty, chastity,
and obedience, practise the counsels in all their integrity.
Lower down on the same page we read that the Franciscans
left theological subtilty to the older orders. The fact is just
the opposite, for the Franciscans have a school of theology
of their own, the characteristic mark of which is its extreme
subtilty ; the founder of it being Duns Scotus the Subtle
Doctor. But, as the authors say, in a work of so much of
detail they cannot hope to have been able to avoid all error.
It was incompatible with the character of the work to give
definite references for every statement. What they have done
is in a better way than has been done before to introduce
travellers to an intelligent acquaintance with the religious life
and monuments of Rome.

From Notre Dame, recognized as one of the most advanced
institutions of learning in the land, there comes a valuable
addition to our text-books. It is a Greek Epitome of the New
Testament.* It has for its purpose to parallel, for the course
in Greek, the place occupied by the familiar epitome, Histories
Sacra, in the Latin course. The language of the New Testa-
ment, while itself by no means difficult, has been simplified for
the use of beginners ; and the excellent arrangement should
serve to beget a familiar acquaintance with the principal events
in the life of our Lord. The book enters a special field, one
practically unoccupied by any other text-book, and for this
reason it will be exceedingly useful. Its dress is all that could
be desired ; but we think that, in these days of fine press-work,
it should be the aim of a text-book, particularly, to be entirely
free from typographical errors.

* An Epitome of the New Testament. By Nicholas J. Stoffel, C.S.C., Professor of Greek
at the University of Notre Dame. Notre Dame, Ind.: The University Press.

WE publish as a frontispiece the portrait of
Baron Russell of Killowen, the Lord Chief-Jus-
tice of England. While all England deplores his
death, yet we honor his memory because to us he is typical of
the Irishmen of brains and indomitable energy who have risen
to places of honor and dignity in the British Empire in spite
of the obstacles that the law and public sentiment had placed
in their paths. When he was a young man winning his spurs
he had more to contend against as a Catholic and an Irish-
man than the young men of this generation have ; yet in spite
of it all he climbed to the highest pinnacle of honor and
earned for himself, as well as for his race and religion, the
praise of English people.

Bishop McFaul, of Trenton, has again defined his position
on the question of the Federation of Catholic societies. He
has reaffirmed the statement that he has no purpose of creat-
ing a Catholic party in this country. He wishes simply to in-
spire Catholic men with a determination to secure their full
rights as American citizens. The time has gone by when we
can be discriminated against because we are Catholics. As
long as a Catholic is a good citizen he should not be debarred
from holding office because he is a Catholic, nor should he be
denied any of his civil rights on account of his religious pro-
fessions. That such discrimination exists no one can deny. If
Catholic men stand together they can easily right this civil
disability.

The Zionist Congress has just finished its work. The prac-
tical outcome of its sessions is the proposal to secure grants of
land in Palestine under the suzerainty of the Sultan and to colo-
nize on this land numbers of Jewish families who are desirous of
going there. The movement to secure for the wandering Hebrew
children a country and a fireside has been earnestly taken up
by their leaders. The people is historically an agricultural
people, and though they appear to have developed wonderful
mercantile traits, still among them there will be found great
numbers who will willingly go back to the soil. Particularly

858 EDITORIAL NOTES. [Sept.,

will this be the case among the Russian Jews. Among the
Slavs they are persecuted by odious laws and trodden down by
a tyranny that 'is full of hatred for them as a race. Many
of them will prefer and gladly accept the alternative of living
in comparative freedom under the Turk to the oppression of
Russian laws. We do not think the Zionistic movement will
find many recruits among the money-getting Jews of America
and England, or even of France.

The administration has revoked the order of General
Brooke, making civil marriages the only legal marriage in
Cuba, and it has honored itself in so doing. That the law
was enacted was due to the influence of the Anticlerical party.
This same party, if it gains the upper hand in the new dispen-
sation in Cuba, will not hesitate to despoil the churches and
confiscate church property. There are many reasons why the
United States cannot afford to relinquish entirely all authority
in Cuba. It has cost the country a vast sum of money to
drive out the Spaniard and to make Cuba an inviting field for
the investment of American capital, and if the American do-
minion is entirely withdrawn the island will revert to a state
of legalized anarchy.

The people of Cuba are docile, and will readily accept any
arrangements that will conduce to their civic well-being. They
are tired of warfare, and desire only the liberty to cultivate
their farms and enjoy a measure of peace. There is a certain
clique of politicians, who have not any very great responsi-
bility at stake, who clamor for independence, and who for
their own aggrandizement wish to cut away from the United
States, If our strong arm were taken away, they would soon
be fighting among themselves, and the last state of the island
would be worse than the first. The United States is obliged
by her geographical and commercial relations to guarantee the
peace of the island, liberty for all the people, and that meas-
ure of autonomy and independence which will best conduce
to the development of the natural resources of the island.

The visit of the Cuban teachers will be prolific in good re-
sults. They have profited by their stay. They have learned
something of the vast resources of America. They have ac-
quired the beginnings of a knowledge of the language. They
have established relationships which will mature as the years
go by. They go back to be zealous missionaries among the
children, as well as among their own people, of the enlightenecl

1900.] EDITORIAL NOTES. 859

spirit of the United States. Too much cannot be said of the
good sense of Mr. Frye, who inaugurated the movement, or of
the tact of President Eliot and of the others who brought it
to a happy fruition.

The following extract from a letter by Fernandez Solares, one
of the Cuban teachers, published in the Diarion de la Marina of
Cuba, gives a very fair idea of the general impression made
on the party by the cordial reception received at Boston :

" Here (Boston), as in New York and throughout the States,
Catholicity is in a marvellous condition of growth and pro-
gress. The director in the Church of St. Paul, Cambridge, a
fellow-student of President Eliot at the university, assured us
that in his time Catholicity was scarcely known ; to-day, in
Cambridge, the church counts 40,000 members out of a popu-
lation of 90,000, while at Boston we number 200,000 ; and what
is more, these members are representatives of their faith.
Tolerance and charity permit the freest practice of religion,
and the feasts of obligation are observed most rigorously.
Here we have in evidence a proof of all the resources that
Catholicity contains within itself for the uplifting of mankind,
and of its superiority over Protestantism.

" Here Catholicism triumphs ; Protestantism, on the con-
trary, is in a state of continual disintegration and decay. In
a land unrivalled in civilization and progress, in a land which
occupies the front rank among nations for culture and liberty,
Catholicism is ever advancing.

" Sorry to say, at this moment in Cuba, a country all im-
bued with the Catholic faith, there are men who, without paus-
ing to consider the direful consequence of their acts, have
raised the banner of revolt ; have proclaimed a religion of their
own, repugnant to common sense. They seem to ignore the
fact that American Catholics are our closest friends, willing and
ready to give us a helping hand whenever their aid is solicited,
for the sake of God and in the name of our common Faith.

" The promulgators of religious apathy and indifference
ignore the fact that it is exactly our faith which gains for us
affection and wide-spread sympathy, and it was the Catholic
societies of Cambridge and Boston that were untiring in assuring
us of their sympathy and friendship, by banquets and receptions
organized in our honor. Here religion is a vital question ;
indifference on this point inspires contempt. The American
people is eminently religious, and this accounts for the wonderful
unity and solidarity which reigns among these true Catholics."

86o THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Sept.,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

AT the State Normal College, Albany, N. Y., Mrs. Margaret S. Mooney pre-
sented a very suggestive outline dealing with the origin and development
of the drama. Reading Circles may derive much profit from the points here
given, even if deprived of the magnetic influence of the lectures that were so
helpful to the students who had the privilege of attending. The purpose of this
course was to give some historical knowledge of the origin and development of
the drama as an art, and as a form of literature. The outlines given are in-
tended to show the line of thought that the discussions will follow. This course
will be of interest to those who realize that a nation's drama is its deepest and
strongest literary expression of life.

The Status of the Drama in England and the United States at the present
time, Saturday, October 14.

The number of reputable theatres in London and New York. In other
cities of both countries.

The kinds of plays presented in them: tragedies, comedies, melodramas,
operas, pantomimes, burlesques, farces.

The men and women who attend the theatres.

The purpose of the drama at the present time.

How long the drama has been a popular form of amusement.

Why it will continue to be a popular form of amusement.

It " holds the mirror up to nature."

Have we a national drama ?

Balaustion's Adventure. Robert Browning.

Those who take this course are advised to read one drama each week The
bibliographies are given for reference and to show the importance of the sub-
ject.

THE GREEK DRAMA. The religious festivals in honor of the god Bacchus,
the goddess Demeter, and the god Apollo. The songs and dances connected
with the sacrificial ceremonies. The Greek Drama, improved by ./Eschylus.
The plays of yEschylus that have been preserved and translated into English.
Their purpose and motive. His subjects. The parts of a Greek drama. The
dialogue, the chorus; strophe, antistrophe. The Greek idea of tragedy. How
the plays were put upon the stage. The great open-air theatres.

Btftiog-rafi/iy.The Greek Poets, vol. i., John Addington Symonds ; The
Fine Arts, Brown; The Student's Greek Drama, Alfred J. Church; Greek
Studies, Walter Pater.

THE GREEK DRAMATISTS. Sophocles. The sources of his inspiration and
dramatic material. His power as a dralnatic writer. Philoctetes. Antigone.
Euripides. Iphigenia in Aulis, Iphigenia in Tauris, Alkestis. The human in-
terest of these plays as compared with the religious interest of the plays of
yEschylus. Greek Comedy. Aristophanes. Political situations and social cus-
toms revealed in these plays. Their interest for the modern student. The dra-
matic unities.

Bibliography. The Greek Poets, vol. ii., Symonds; Aristotle's Poetics;

1900.] THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 86 1

The Masque of Pandora, Longfellow ; Iphigenia in Tauris, Goethe ; Transla-
tions of the plays of ^Eschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides.

THE ROMAN DRAMA. What the Romans borrowed from the Greeks.
What took the place of the drama in Rome before the Greek drama was adopted
by the Romans. A comparison of the Latin plays of Plautus and Terence with
the Greek plays of Aristophanes. The Mediaeval Drama. Passion Plays. The
Mysteries and Miracles. The Passion Play at Oberammergau.

Bibliography. Christus : A Tragedy, Longfellow ; The Golden Legend,
Longfellow ; A Drama of Exile, Mrs. Browning.

THE ENGLISH RELIGIOUS DRAMA. The three great Church days of the
Christian year: Christmas, Good Friday, Easter. The services in the cathedrals
on these days. The Passion Play a development of the Latin service on Good
Friday. The part of the choir. The Saint Plays a feature of church festivals.
They were presented in the nave of the church. The next step was the pre-
sentation of the plays in the churchyard on the feast of the patron saint of the
church or abbey. The first English open-air theatres. The English Miracle
Cycles. Other actors besides the clergy take part in their representation. The
York Plays, 48 extant; Townley Plays, 32 extant; Chester Plays, 25 extant;
Coventry Plays, 42 extant; Cornwall Plays, 3 extant; Dublin Plays, I extant;
Newcastle-on-Tyne Plays, i extant.

Bibliography. History of English Dramatic Literature to the Death of
Queen Anne, W. 21, 822, A. W. Ward. English Miracle Plays, Moralities and
Interludes, Ext. 822-1, A. W. Pollard. York Plays, Lucy Toulmin Smith, Ext.
822. The English Religious Drama, Katherine Lee Bates. The Philosophy of
Literature, Brother Azarias, pp. 108-113. History of English Dramatic Poetry
to the Time of Shakspere, and Annals of the Stage to the Restoration, J. P.
Collier, 792, C. 691. Dissertation on the Pageants or Dramatic Mysteries
anciently performed at Coventry, 792, q. sh. 2, Thomas Sharp. Studies in the
English Mystery Plays, Davidson, 822-1, II, 28. Ancient Mysteries described,
especially the English Miracle Plays, 822-1, H. 75, Lond., 1823. The numbers
and abbreviations found in the preceding bibliography, as well as in the follow-
ing, refer to the call numbers of the books in the New York State Library.

MORALITIES, INTERLUDES, PAGEANTS, MASQUES. The Masque of
Comus, Milton; The Masque of Pandora, Longfellow; Cynthia's Revels, Ben
Jonson.

Bibliography. Shakspere's Predecessors in the English Drama, 822, Sy. 6,
Symonds. English Miracle Plays, Moralities and Interludes, Ext. 822-1, A. W.
Pollard. History of English Dramatic Poetry to the Time of Shakspere, and
Annals of the Stage to the Restoration, 792, C. 691, J. P. Collier. Readings
from the Old Dramatists, Winslow, Cap. 822, W. 73. Old English Dramatists,
822-3, L. 95, Lowell. History of the English Drama/, Golden (Ext. Dept.)

TYPE DRAMAS OF SHAKSPERE. i. Coriolanus, Julius Caesar, Tragedy;
2. A Midsummer Night's Dream, Comedy; 3. Henry VIII., Richard II., His-
tory. How to study a play.

Bibliography. Human Life in Shakspere, O. 814-32, Henry Giles; Shak-
spere as a Dramatic Artist, 822-33, D. 32, R. G. Moulton ; Introduction to
Shakspere, Corson; Memoirs of the Life of William Shakspere, R. G. White,
822-33, B. i, W.

DRAMAS IN PROSE FORM. The Rivals, and others, by Sheridan. She
Stoops to Conquer, and others, by Goldsmith. Some Famous German Drama-

862 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Sept.,

tists, Lessing, Goethe, Schiller. Some famous French Dramatists, Racine, Cor-
neille, Moliere. Some famous Spanish Dramatists, Cervantes, Calderon, Lope
de Vega. Italian Dramatists, Goldoni, Alfieri.

Bibliography. Sismondi's History of the Literature of the South of Europe ;
The Technique of the Drama, Freytag, 802-2, F. 89.

* * *

The closing meeting of the Ozanam Reading Circle, New York City, was
largely devoted to the interests of the Champlain Summer-School. Rev.
Thomas McMillan gave a descriptive account of the work planned for the ses-
sion of 1900. Notice was given also that new members will be welcomed by
the Ozanam at the opening meeting in October. Any one wishing to join may
send application in writing to the Director, 415 West Fifty- ninth Street. Miss
Mary F. McAleer, president, read the following report for 1899-1900:

In October, 1899, the Ozanam Reading Circle entered upon its thirteenth
year. According to the wiseacres, it should have been a year of dire disaster.
But, contrary to old-time traditions, the session of 1899-1900 has been one of
great enjoyment and sound mental improvement. "While the Circle has been
smaller in the number of its active members, yet more united effort and keener
appreciation than usual have marked our weekly meetings.

At the beginning of the year the council, under the direction of the Rev.
Thomas McMillan, decided to devote part of the time to the study of fiction.
After some discussion it was finally concluded to accept as a reference, Sydney
Lanier's work, The English Novel : A Study in the Development of Personality.
The chapters of this book were originally delivered as public lectures at the
Johns Hopkins University, in the winter and spring of 1881.

At each of the weekly meetings a portion of the book was read and dis-
cussed. During the period to our next meeting the novel criticised, if available,
was read at home, so that each member was ready with her opinion the follow-
ing week. Starting with an historical retrospect of English Fiction, our read-
ing embraced criticisms of Richardson, Fielding, Smollett, Sterne, Goldsmith,
Scott, Bulwer and Dickens, Thackeray and George Eliot, greatest attention
being paid to the last named.

Each evening about ten minutes was devoted to a magazine article, dealing
mainly with reviews of new books. The Catholic World Magazine, Mosher's
Magazine, and The Aue Maria furnished many bright themes for discussion.

In addition to this regular work, a list of books was placed at the disposal
of the Circle which is recommended to those not fortunate enough to be mem-
bers of the Ozanam, They number thirty-five in all. By remitting ten cents in
postage to the Columbian Reading Union, 415 West Fifty-ninth Street, a
pamphlet will be furnished containing this list of books by Catholic authors,
with brief biographical sketches of the writers. Among the most noted are
Brother Azarias, Katherine E. Conway, Louise Imogen Guiney, Miriam Coles
Harris, George Parsons Lathrop, Adelaide A. Procter, Agnes Repplier, James
Jeffrey Roche, and Mary Agnes Tincker.

Besides these recent additions to our circulating library, we are proud to
mention the works of George Meredith. These books have been procured on
easy terms, and are at the disposal of the members, to be retained as long as
needed.

Two evenings this season the meetings have been open to the public. On
one occasion a valuable paper by the Rev. Henry E. O'Keeffe presented a view

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. 863

of Cardinal Newman sufficiently unusual to evoke rather warm discussion among
those fortunate enough to be present at the reading. Again, a paper devoted
to the interests of woman was read by Miss E. Uhlrich.

On the 22d of February the friends and members of the Ozanam enjoyed
a rare literary and musical treat. The previous year we were favored with an
author's reading. This .year we had the next best to the author himself his
friend and former secretary, in the person of the Rev. John Marks Handly, who
charmed us all with reminiscences of his old associate, George Cable.

Considerable attention was given to the course of Free Lectures to the
People given by the Board of Education under the supervision of Dr. Leipziger.
The courses in Columbus Hall the past season were particularly attractive,
embracing one on natural science and one on music. The latter course was
attended by the Circle in a body, the meeting adjourning each Monday evening
to the hall after a short interval for regular business.

* * *

The Chicago Dial has furnished some good points for discussion in the
following statements concerning the new ways of arousing interest in the study
of literature:

The methods made use of by our schools in the teaching of English
literature have, for some years past, been in a transition stage, exhibiting a
strong tendency toward more enlightened ways of dealing with this vastly im-
portant subject. The ferment is of the healthful type, and a fairly clarified
product may not unreasonably be expected to result. The main reliance of
primary education, in this important subject, has been, and still is, the " reader,"
supplemented by occasional outside passages of prose and verse, generally
selected without judgment, and committed to memory for the purpose of being
" spoken." All " readers " are bad in the sense that their use implies a very
narrow limitation of the amount of matter to be read, and most of them are bad
as regards the character of the selections included. The essential points to be
insisted upon in the reading of lower schools are two, and two only. Nothing,
absolutely nothing, should be read or recited that is not literature, and the
amount of reading done by the child should be as large as possible. An ideal
" reader " might easily be compiled; indeed, excellent books of the sort are
now to be had. But the use of the " reader " generally means wearisome repeti-
tion of a limited amount of matter, whereas a rational method would demand
very little repetition. The jaded interest with which a helpless child cons the
familiar and well-thumbed pages is fatal to that appreciation of literature which
it should be the first aim of primary education to encourage. Why, in these
days of inexpensive production of reading matter, should a child be forced to
peruse the same pages over and over again until the very sight of the book is
hateful to him ? Why should not every day bring to him fresh matter for the
stimulation of his growing intelligence and imagination ?

As for the other point upon which we should insist, the reading of nothing
that is not worth reading, there can be no possible excuse for the kind of
pabulum that is too commonly fed, by spoonfuls, to the mind of the young.
When we consider the peculiarly receptive quality of the child's mind, the reten-
tiveness whose loss he will soon have occasion to mourn, the imagination so
early to be dulled by the prosaic years to come, does it not seem a crime to make
of these faculties or powers anything less than the utmost possible, to force
the free spirit into ruts and waste it upon inanities? Even for the very young-

864 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Sept., 1900.]

est, who can read at all, there is no lack of suitable material. The melodies of
Mother Goose, as Mr. Scudder has convincingly argued, are literature in a
certain sense, surely in a far higher sense than the nursery jingles that too often
take their place. And when a more advanced stage has been reached, there is
the whole world of fairy lore, the wealth of religious and secular story-telling,
the inexhaustible fund of historic incident, all of which must be included in the
outfit of the adult mind, and much of which is better acquired at an early age
than at any other. The child who has grown up in ignorance of the labors of
Hercules and Siegfried's fight with the dragon, of the wanderings of Ulysses
and the deeds of King Arthur, of Horatius at the, bridge and Leonidas at
Thermopylae, has missed something that cannot be given him later, and may
justly feel himself defrauded of a part of his birthright.

While there are indications of an approaching reform in the methods of
reading employed by our lower schools, and of reform along the lines above
drawn, the progress in this direction will probably be so slow as to discourage
all but the most sanguine. As long as the management of our common schools
remains in the hands of persons selected with little or no reference to their fit-
ness for the work and that this is generally the case throughout the United
States is a fact that need hardly be enlarged upon we cannot hope for very
much. -In the fields of secondary and still higher education the outlook is
brighter, for the problem is being dealt with in a more enlightened spirit. But
the complaint that a considerable proportion of high-school and college students
have no literary aptitude whatever is still heard, and benumbs the efforts of
many among the well-meaning, some of whom seem disposed to accept this
proposition as a statement of one of the stubborn facts of nature. To our mind
the proportion will remain large as long as we do not attack the difficulty at its
root in the very earliest years of school life.

In secondary education, the old-fashioned treatment of English literature
found its embodiment in an historical text-book, to be learned mostly by heart,
accompanied sometimes by a hand-book of " extracts," in which each represen-
tative writer received an allotment of two or three pages. Sometimes the history
and the " extracts " were jumbled together, to the still further abridgment of
the latter. The modern method, which has gained much ground of late, con-
centrates the attention upon a few longer works and their writers. This method
is doubtless an advance upon the other, yet it sometimes means a reaction car-
ried to extremes. We cannot afford to eliminate the historical text-book alto-
gether, but we do need to have the right kind of book and to use it with intelli-
gence. For the book that gives cut-and-dried critical formulas -a too prevalent
type the educator can have no use. What he wants is a book that shall stimu-
late the critical faculty in the student, not suppress it by supplying criticism
ready made. In college education the reaction against the formal and dispirit-
ing methods of the past has been very pronounced, and the study of literature
appears to be in a state of generally healthful activity.

INDIAN FAMINE SUFFERERS,

From Appeal in August issue, Cash, $66.00.

AP The Catholic world

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