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■ " N

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

MONTHLY MAGAZINE

General Literature and Science. ^

PUBLISHED BY THE PAUUST FATHERS.

VOL. LXXVIII.
OCTOBER, 1903, TO MARCH, 1904.

NEW YORK :

THE OFFICE OF THE CATHOLIC WORLD,

120 West 60th Street.'

1904.

CONTENTS.
62aSiL

Adoration of the Magi, The, {Frontispiece.')
Adoration of the Shepherds, The,

(Frontispiece. )
African Languages and Religions,

Some. — Rev. Luke Plunkett, . . 331
Alexander III. and a Polish Priest. — /.

Brodkead, 88

Anchoress, An English. — Francesca M.

Steele, 331

Bards of Ireland, The 'E.xiVj.— Robert

M.Sillard, 725

Bible before the Reformation, The Eng-
lish.— ^«v. George Josepk Reid, . 791
Briggs, Dr., and the Catholic Church.—

Geoffrey Deverenx, . . . , i
Canterbury. {Illustrated) — Ellis

Sckretber, O7

Catholic Charities, An Exhibit of, . 705
Cellini and his Memoirs. — Tkomas B.

Reilly ■ . .5a

'Christian Unity. — A Missionary, . 5, 159
Church in France and the Briand Bill,

1\ut.— Manuel de Mortira, Pk.D., 383
Church Music: Its Present Condition

and its Prospects. ^ Illustrated.) —

William fosepk Finn, ... 446

Columbian Reading Union, The, 140, 376,

431, 565, 706, 849

Comment on Current Topics, 134, 370, 415,

Correction, A, 848

Countess Catherina, The Tragedy of. —

hltzabetk SetOH, .... 39

Dante in the National Museum, Naples.

luly. Bust of, (Fronttsptece.)

Dante, Sir Henry Inring's.— /. /. Walsk,

M.D.,Pk.D. 384

Dante, The Portraits of. {Illustrated.)

—F. W, Parsons, . . .749

Deshon, C.S.P., The Very Rev. George,

— V. Rev. George M. Searle, C.S. P. , sfig
Deshon, C.S.P., Very Rev. George,

{Frontispiece.)

Divorce and iu Effects on Society. — Dr.

George Giglinger, .... 93

Dunes, Behind the. — Nina de Garmo

Spalding, 509

Embers Rekindled, The.— ^. V. Christ-

-MS, 377

England in the Olden Time, Catholic.
(Illustrated.) — WiUiam Seton,
LL.D., 585

Episcopalian Demand for Christian
Schools, An.— ^n>. Thomas Mc-
Millan, C.S.P., .... 334

Evolution of Potiphar, The. — Georgina

PellCurtif, 73S

Fra Giovanni's Story. — Tkomas B.

Reilly, 459

•Gabrielle. — Georgina Pell Curtis, , 181

Gladstone, Morley's Life of. {Por-
trait.)— Rev. fames /. Fox, D.D., 480

GrotUferrato. (Illustrated.) — B. C.

Berry 17

Habit, The Idea of.— Rev. Tkomas Ver-

ner Moore, C.S.P., . . . .521

Hamack and the Gospel, Professor. —

Rev. Fatker Cutkbert, O.S.F.C, 493, 6oj

Leo XIII.: A Critic's Mistakes.— ^nr.

/okn /. Burke, C.S.P., . . .143

Library Table, 135, 364, 407, 553, 697, S3S

Lourdes and the National Pilgrimage of

1903. {Illustrated.) — L. R. Lynck, 20a

Maestrino, The Forp;etfuIness of the ;
or. The Maestnno's Christmas. —
^arie Donegan Walsk, . . , 33?!

Marriage under the Black Pines. — E. C:

Vansittart, 795

Missions on the Congo, A Narrative of
the. {Illustrated.) — f. B. lug-
««« 381 '75i 36-'

" Morte Innocente," The Story of the.

—E. C. Vansittart, . . . .61;

Mystery in Revealed Religion, The
Necessity of. — Rev. George M.
Searle, C.S. P., . . . . 46;

Night Refuges in Paris. — Comtesse de

CoursoH, 2< <

Non-Catholic Missions, The Tenth An-
niversary of. — Rev. William L. Sul-
livan, C.S. P., 3:

Old Man's Journal, From an. — Bessy
BoyU a Reilly, .... 8c

Orphan Asylums, Public Appropria-
tions to.— Tiyori/'. Weed, LL.B., jf

Our Holy Father Pope Pius X.,

{Frontispiece.

Osanam, Frederick. — Rev. Henry A.

Brann, D.D., 29(

" Parsifal " and a great Literary Cen-
tury. — fames /. WaUk, M.D.,
Ph.D., 62;

Patrick, Saint, as a \^Yf%ntt.—foseph
M. Sullivan, LL.B 775

" Patronages " in France, The.— i/l de
la Fontaine, ..... 804

Philippine Commission, A Useful Re-
minder from the, .... 4

Philosophy, Thoughts on.— Albert Rey-
naud, . . 99, 154,

COlfTENTS,

111

F;<an, Christine de : Her Life and
Writinn. {Illustrated.)— Freder-
ick P. Henry, AM., M.D., . . 647

St. Paul. The Mission ot.—Most Rtv.
fohn f. Keane, D.D., . • 7*»

SainU in Paradise, The, {Frontispiece.)
Spain, A Peep aX.—E. McAuliffe, . 768
Spencer, Herbert.— ^w. /ames /. Fox,
D.D., 574

torr of a Famous Equestrian Statue,
The. (Illustrated.) — William
Tioombley, 47a

Unconverted World, The.— ^rt*. Joseph

ilcSorley, C.S.P. 437

Views |ind Reviews, 105, 345, 388, 531,

669, 830

Ward's, Wilfrid, '* Problems and Per-
sons." — Samuel A. Richardson,
A.M. 787

Wayside Shrine, A. — Charles Curtz

Hahn, 8a

Wordsworth, In the Footsteps of. {Il-
lustrated.) — Thomas O'ttagan,
Ph.D., 310

Young Hero of the Sioux, Tht.—Mary

Catherine Crowley, .... 643

POETRY.

9;-

, I
197,
of

■ " Abyssus Abvssum Invocat."— 5°. M.

Wilfrid, O.S.D., .... 767

: Antumn Charms. — Edward Wilbur

Mason, 153

Benediction, At. — Louise Murphy, . 530

Bethlehem, Like.— Louise F. Murphy, 383

.^Celibate, A.— Mary T. Waggaman, . i8o

• Denial. — Rhoda Walker Edwards, . 790
Lumen de Ccelo iCtenia per Faecula

r iMCKaX..— Philip Pauldinf Brant, . 50

Uoonlit Night, A. — Denis A. Mc-
Carthy, 37

■'- Obedience.— i/i>rjf Teresa Waggaman, 49

Paradise, A Year in. — Stephen A. Hurl-
but, 198

Ports of \ovX\i.— Thomas B. Reilly, . 330

Prayer, A. — Rhoda Walker Edwards, . 337

Storm, Before the. — Devereux, . 81

Socrates. — Eleanor C. Donnelly, . . 508

Sweet Thoughts. — Marion S. Pine, . 91
VessM of Election," " The. — AT. .S.

Fine, . . . . . 4»
White Mountains, In the. — fulian

fohnstone, 397

Winds, i:\kt.— Kathleen Monica Nichol-

««» 375

175.:?

e.
It

NEW PUBLICATIONS.

Kge, Ifodem, The, ...

/(nierican Orations of To>day, The Best,
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(* nthony, St., of Padua, Conferences on
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/■- :her, Henry Ward, .

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^^8-1903,

Commynes, Philippe, Mtooires de,
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terwald, Deutschen, Aus dem,
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669

836
671
684
393
548
549
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399
117

53«
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403
357

349
538
399

399
548
401
680
347

Encyclopaedia Britannica, The New Vol-
umes of the, . I30, 363, 404, 696
Eternity, A Guide to, . . , . . 399
Expiation, Doctrine de, et son Evolution
Historique, La, 116

Fairy Book, The Crimson,

Four Last Things, The,

Francis, St., of Assisi, The Real, .

Geometry, Elements of Plane and Solid,

Geschichte des Leidens und Sterbens,

der Auferstehung und Himmelfabrt

des Herm, Die,

Gospels for Sundays and Holydays,

Readings on the

Gospels, Studies on the.

Gospel, The Recovery and Restatement

of^the, 353

Grace, Divine,

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Boy,

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Heart of Rome, The, ....
History, English, for Catholic Schools,
History, The Study of Ecclesiastical, .

Ideals in Practice,

Indulgences, Les : Leur Origine, leur

Nature, leur Developpement, .

Inner Way. The

Insect Folk, The, ... .

54a

109
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548

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830

687
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359

694
403

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399
689

Contents.

Institutiones Philosophis Moralis et
Socialis Quas in Collegio Maximo

Lavaniensi Societatis Jesu, . ' . 403

Ireland under English Rule : a Plea for

the Plaintiff, 830

Irish Agricultural Society, Report of

the, 691

Jones Readers, The, .... aoa

Juges, Le Livre des, .... 539

Kenricks, The Two 828

Kyriale seu Ordiaarium Missarum in re-

centioris musics notulas translatum, . 114

Labor, Organized, 674

Latin Prose Composition, . . 548
Leo XIII., Pope, The Life of His Holi-
ness, 121

Leo XIII., The Great Encyclical Let-
ters of, 105

Lex Orandi ; or, Prayer and Creed, . 681

Liberty du Culte, La Defense de la, . 396

Life of Father Dolling, The, . . 354

Light for New Times, A Book for

Catholic Girls, 261

Literary Guillotine, The, . . . 675
Literature, The Jenkins' Student's

Handbook of British and American, . 119

Literatur, Geschichte der Altkirchlichen, 53a

Little Office of Our Lady, The, . . 388

Love of God, On the 399

Lyra Innocentium, 399

Mass, The Sacrifice of the, . . . 826

Memoirs of a Child 542

Memories of a Red-Letter Summer, . 690

Mercy Manual, The, . . . . 390

Mithra, The Mysteries of, . . . 534

Moine, Un 696

Moral Briefs, 391

Music, Church, 829

Music in the History of the Western

Church, 829

My Candles, and Other Poems, . . 688

Myers, Mistakes and Misstatements of, 669
Nautical Distances and How to Com-

rVpute Them, 261

O'Gill, Darby, and the Good People, . 83a

Peter, St., Married ? Was, . . . 396

Philippines, The, 548

Philip, St , A Precursor of , . . . 687

Pbilosophie Religieuse, Essais de.
Physical Laboratory Manual,
Priesthood, On the, ...
Priest, The : His Character and Work
Psychology, Outlines of,
Religion, A Systematic Study of, .
Reunion Essays, ....
Roadside Flowers : A Book of Verse,
Robinson de Paris, Le Petit, .
Rome, Back to, ... .
Rome, Pilgrim Walks in,
Saintsbip, Studies in, .
Salvage from the Wreck,
Sermons and Addresses, Occasional,
Sermons, Catholic,
Sermons for the People on the Apostles

Creed, One Hundred Short,
Sermons, Sketches for, .
Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice,
Shipof State, The,
Shutters of Silence, The,
Sick-Calls ; or. Chapters of Pastoral

Medicine,

Sierra, A Daughter of the,
Six-Footed, Ways of the.

Socialism,

Song of Songs, The,

Soul, Inner Life of the, .

Spiritual Conflict and Conquest, The,

Spiritual Consolation, A, and other

Treatises,

Story-Book House, The,
Teaching, Sunday-school,

Temple, The,

Testament, La M6thode Historique sur-

tout d propos de I'Ancien, .
Theology, A Manual of Mystical, .
Thouret, The Venerable Mother Jeanne

Antide,

Valet's Tragedy, The, and Other Stu

dies,

Virgines Subintroductae,
Wanderfolk in Wonderland,
Where Believers may Doubt,
Wilfrid Sweet, ....
.Youth, Worldly Wisdom for the Catho

THE

ATHOLIG WORLD,

MONTHLY MAGAZINE

General Literature and Science.

Vou LXXVIII. OCTOBER, 1903. No. 463.

PUBLISHED BY

THE PAULIST FATHERS,

120 West 60th Stitct, New York.

New York:
THE OFFICE OF THE CATHOLIC WORLD,

P. O. Box 2. Station N.

Bnttrtd at tkt Post-Office as Second-Class Matter.

OBALBRS SUPPUCD BY THB AMKRICAN NEWS COHPANY.

"•I^The postage on " The Cathouc Worlb " to Great BriUin and Ireland, Franc*,
Belffiani, Italy, and Germany is 6 cents.

The Apostolic Missid& House will have for its special purpose the train-
ing of bands of diocesan missionaries who will devote their entire time to giving
missions in towns and country places where now the needs of the Church are
urgent, and to preaching Catholic doctrine to non-Catholics who are anxious
to know more of the Church-. This work is already started and is doing un-
told good. It is hoped that in a short time every diocese will be equipped
with these diocesan mission bands.

Already a number of Catholic gentlemen have given generously. Some
have given |t,ooo each and are enumerated among the Founders, and their
names will be placed on a marble tablet in the Mission House.

Others have given smaller sums. No one has refused to give something,
for, as the Apostolic Mission House belongs to the Churcli in the United States,
«very one is interested in its completion. The project is being financed by the
Catholic Missionary Union, a legal organization incorporated under the laws of
the State of New York.

Under the supervision of the Directors I am devoting nij- time and energy
to this great task of collecting purely for the good of Holy Church, for I know,
as everj' bishop, priest, and earnest Catholic layman knows, the good of such
an institution, and it is worth one man's life to start it going.

REV. A. P. DOYLE, 120 West 6oth Street, New York.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

Vol. LXXVIII.

OCTOBER, 1903.

No. 463.

DR. BRIGGS AND THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.

BY GEOFFREY DEVEREUX.

INDER the title "Catholic: the Name and the
Thing" Dr. Charles Augustus Briggs • has flung
into the arena of controversy an article that will
rise many times in years to come to perpetuate
the discord that has torn the peace of modern
Protestantism. The learned scholarship of the author and the
judicial courage with which he approaches every knotty problem
of theology will give a hearing to his views on any religious
question ; but if we mistake not, the learned doctor will dis-
cover that many Protestants, who patiently heard him when he
only opposed one branch of Protestantism against another, will
bs restless and irritable when he requests their consideration of
his argument against all Protestantism and in favor of the
Catholic Church. When we remember how the so-called
** Catholic party " in the Episcopal Church rebelled against the
admission of Pr. Briggs to their fold, we cannot help but see a
grim humor in the bitter arraignment of that party in this
article, when he charges them with being the Tiost perverse of
all Protestants. He says: "Still others would insist upon all
the chief dogmas and institutions characteristic of the Western
Church before the Reformation, and undo all the work of
reform except the single item of separation from the jurisdic-
tion of Rome. But it is difficult to see how any one who has
gone so far should not take the final step. For it were mere
jMrantonncss to separate from the Church for no other motive

'CaiJkolU: Tht Natnt ami tk* Thing. By Charles Augustus Briggs. Journal a/ Amrric*»
r, July. 1903.

The MissroNAKY Sociktv op St. Paul the Apostlk in thi Stati

OP Nbw Voxk. 1903.
VOL. Lxxriti. — I

^ Dn, BM/GGS AND THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. [OcL^

iMn •ccletiMtical independenoe. It is mere perversity not to
««<urii to Rome if the conscience is convinced that Rome is
ugh I ill tU h<r great oootrovenies widi Protestantism . "

It i« A dtUcious revenge, but it will only increase their de>
UimilUtion to destroy him, and, indeed, he has put weapons
m ihair haudi by which die task will be made easy, for even
\\\% |t|)iacopii Church at large comes in for a share of his
ii«i\ «i0«t criticism. He sajrs : " Nothing has so much injured
\\\^ I'lturch of England in the past as her arrc^[ant exclu^ve-
U«i» HH * national church. Tliat has brought her into the
uiniOlU crisis of her history, torn by faction -and reproached
by a muititude of enemies. Her daughter, the Protestant
ICuiiicupal Church in the United States, has too often exhibited
\\\Vk baneful temper, and so repelled multitndes who would
Mllttirwise have gladly united with her. If she ar roga t e to faer-
Mplf the nanie ' Catholic,' which is r^arded as the conunon
iuUcritance of Christianity in some sense by all «Hbo nse tiie
ApPiitleii' Creed, no one will recognize her right to it but her-
4fiU i a multitude of her own clergy and people will be
4ii|)ame4 of their church, and she will become the mock of
Intitprical critics."

One can imagine the sensation these words will create
tv|)cn they become generally known among Episcopalians.
K^rtunately, it may be that no central body exists in the
l^|jiscopal Church with power to place the learned doctor on
t-rial, a« existed in the Presbyterian Church, but there may be
a strong hint that -he should " move on " once more, and if
i>u, the reader of this article finds it easy to see that his next
resting place will be the same that gave rest, to Cardinal
Newman and other great minds who wearied of the unrest
QULxide of the True Church — the Roman Catholic Church.

Hut let us turn to pleasanter themes and cong^tulate Dr.
Hriggs on the accurate definition he has been able to discover
fur tlic word Catholic. No Catholic theologian could ask a
I'rutestant to admit more than Dr. Briggs freely concedes after
hi« investigation of Christian history. He quotes from Catho>
lie writers with approval, to show the antiquity of the word
Catholic; to show that it stood for "(i) Vital unity of the
Church in Christ. (2) The geographical unity of the Church
extending throughout the world. (3) The historical unity of
the church in apostolic tradition," To prove this, he cites

1903.] Dr. Briggs and the Catholic Church. 3

Igaatius, Bishop of Antioch; Hennas, the Roman prophet
Irensus, Bishop of Lyons, and many other ancient Fathers.
He concedes the authority of the church to define creed.
" Moreover,, the church was inhabited by the. Divine Spirit,
the great teacher, counsel, and guide, in accordance with th^
promises of Jesus, and the experience as well as the teachings
of the Apostles. This deposit (of faith) was used by the church
under the guidance of the Divine Spirit when it was needed
in the unfolding of its knowledge and of its life. It soon be-
came necessary, after the death of the Apostles, and of their
immediate successors, to collect in definite form the essential
things of this deposit (of faith). It was certainly the work of
the second Christian century to give us the consensus of the
church in a canon — the creed known as the Apostles' Creed.
. . . The old Protestant view that the church of the second
ceatury declined from the apostolic faith as expressed in the
New Testament, is historically impossible and incredible." And,
as showing the continuous power of the church to regulate the
faith of her children, he says: "If, moreover, we recognize
that the first council may define the Catholic faith by limiting
orthodoxy to one of several views hitherto prevailing, and may
so divide the Christian Church into sections, of which only
one can be called Catholic, there is no valid reason why we
should stop with that council, or, indeed, with any council,
for it establishes the principle that to be and remain Catholic
one must accept as final the decisions of the Catholic Church
on any question, in any and in every age until the end. of the
world. And this is quite easy so soon as the principle is
recognized."

He concedes that "There can be no doubt that at the close
of the third Christian century ' Roman ' and ' Catholic ' were
so closely allied that they were practically identical." He
quotes from Harnack to show :

(i) That th« Apostles' Creed is essentially a Roman sym-
bol.

(2) That it was in Rome that the canon of Holy Scripture
first began to be fixed.

(3) That the list of bishops, with the doctrine of apostolic
succession, appears first in the Roman Church.

(4) That Rome became the normal constitution for all the
churches.

DR* BRIGGS AND THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.

(5^ That the Primacy of Rome was recognized in the sec
#f»A century, in a sense.

AjmI last, but not least, " There can be no doubt that the
K.->fna.a Catholic Church of our day is the heir, by unbroken
^Inirr^* to the Roman Catholic Church of the second cemury,
%3^ tb^t it is justified in using the name ' Catholic ' as well as
gJitf ntme 'Roman'." Further quotations might be made from
retnarkable article, but enough has been shown to indicate
unmistakable trend of the doctor's mind. He is not ready
Htf yd to adopt the inevitable and logical result of his ad-
f/fi^±ed facts. He hesitates on the brink by a subtle discus-
fgitpll in his mind of two distinctions in the realm of faith, the
^ftitcaJ and the religious. He salves his troubled doubts by
cb^rging the Church of Rome with erring in her ethics. He
•sy*: "If only the Roman Church had maintained her pre-
e^Ti-nence in love, no one would ever have denied her primacy.
If Rome would renew her first love, the reunion of the Catho-
lic Church would be assured." This is the cry of a pure
heart. It has been the cause of many seditions in the church
from Tertullian to the present day. It is a snare of Satan,
who transforms himself into an angel of light that he may
deceive the unwary. If the minds of men were so darkened
when our Lord was on the earth that he was called Beelzebub,
the prince of devils, while he lived a life in which no one
could find a spot, it is not strange that learned critics can find
matter for criticism in a church holy in her doctrine but very
human and faulty in her members — especially when they are
taught hostility to her almost with their mothers' milk. Let
ui not be uncharitable. Let us remember John Henry New-
man, who said that even when he knew he was on the road
lo Rome, yet remained in the Church of England, because the
time was not ripe : " I am as a man who is on his road to a
city which he sees in the distance. I am going there, but I
Am yet on the road and must take many steps before 1 reach

III"

Dr. Briggs is on the road. Me sees the City of God in

tite distance. But there are many steps yet to take. Who

can think that the light that has led him almost to the gate

will fail him now ?

■

1903-1

CHRTSTTAN XjNTTY.

CHRISTIAN UNITY.

THE MEANS OF ATTAINING IT.

BY A MISSIONARY.

INTRODUCTORY.

HRISTIAN Unity is much discussed at present,
because the need of it is widely felt. Seme of the
causes underlying the felt need are : ihe evident

and

th(

jrlappii

waste of men ana means

the sects, the powerlessness of other forces to
soften the antagonisms of our industrial systtm, the dcclir.e of
sectarian organizations relatively to the growth of organiza-
tions in the world of business and politics, the decay of faith
resulting from the disunion and antagonisms of those who
assume to speak in the name of Christ, and the obstacles
which disunion and discord are found to place in the way of
missions to the heathen world. The seventeenth chapter of
St. John's Gospel is more widely studied to-day than it ever
was before. It is a true instinct which leads Christians to turn
to that chapter for light on the subject The whole chapter
is a prayer, Christ prays first for Himself, then for the Apos-
tles, and lastly for all true believers in Him ; and the great
object of His prayer is Christian Unity, " that they all may be
one," The following pages are a study of part of this prayer.
In the quotations, one or more words are sometimes added in
parentheses, when the context or the meaning requires them.

PRAYER FOR THE .\rOSTLES.

** I have manifested Thy name to the men whom Thou
'hast given Me out of the world : Thine they were, and to Me
Thou gavest them ; and they have kept Thy word. Now they
have known that all things which Thou hast given Me are
from Thee; because the words Thou gavest Me I have given
to them; and they have received them, and have known in
very deed that I come out from Thee, and they have believed
that Thou didst send Me. I pray for them. I pray not for

the world, but for .them whom Thou hast given Me ; because
they are Thine. And all things are Thine, and Thine are
Mine ; and I am glorified in them. And now I am not in the
world, and these are in the world, and I come to Thee. Holy
Father, keep them in Thy name, whom Thou hast given Me,
that they may be one^ as. We also are. While I was with them _
I kept them in Thy name." ^

■ Here is a deep dividing line. On one side of it is the
world ; on the other side, the Apostles with Christ. He had
separated them from their work in the world, and from kith
and kin, and had attached them to Himself. And He men-
tions four forces which separate them from the world and
attach them to Him. First, their vocation: "the men whom
Thou hast given Me out of the world." Secondly, their fidel-
ity to that vocation : " and they have kept Thy word,"
Thirdly, their Christian faith: "they have known in very deed
that I came out from Thee." And fourthly, His own guar-
dianship of them : " While I was with them I kept them in
Thy name." With Him as their Head they form a separate
Society, united with one another by their union with Him.
But now He is about to leave them in the world, and His
great desire is that they may continue united in the highest
kind of unity, "that they may be one, as We also are."

■ PRAYER FOR US.

After praying for the Apostles, our Lord looks at His
Church in the centuries to come. He sees us. He sees that
the dividing line between His Church and the world remains,
but also that the vast multitudes of people who have passed
over from one side to the other have brought with them those
forces of the world which divide men into mutually hostile
races, nations, classes, and parties. His own guardianship had
been the visible, uniting force in the case of the Apostles, and,
after praying that we all may be one. He expresses by the
one word "glory" the corresponding uniting force in the case^
of His Church. His words are ; f

" And not for them (the Apostles) only do I pray, but for
them also who through their word shall believe in Me, that
they all (pastors and people) may be one, as Thou, Father, in
Me, and I in Thee ; that they also may be one in Us.
And the glory which Thou hast given Me, I have given to]

Christian Unity,

them, that they may be one, as We also are one ; I in Them
and Thou in Me, that they may be made perfect in one."

The unity our Lord prayed and worked for is not a mere
local unity. It is a world-wide unity. It embraces all who
through the word of His Apostles believe in Him. That is
the scope of His prayer. To see what means He adopted, in
addition to prayer, to secure the accomplishment of His de-
sign, it is necessary to know the nature of the glory He gave
us for that purpose. The key to all knowledge of Christian
Unity is that word: "The glory which Thou hast given Me I
have given to them, that they may be one." What glory did
the Father give to the Son ? The Gospels record three public
manifestations of the glory which the Father had bestowed up-
on the Son before the period of this seventeenth chapter. On
each of these occasions the heavens opened to glorify the Son
and to teach us the nature of that glory. At His Birth, in
presence of the shepherds, He was glorified as the Saviour of
men. At His Baptism the Father sent the Holy Ghost in
visible shape upon Him and proclaimed His heavenly Sonship.
At the Transfiguration He was glorified as King. A study of
khese gifts of glory will enable us to understand the glory
which makes the Church one.

AT HIS BIRTH.

" And there were in the same country shepherds watching
and keeping the night-watches over their flock. And behold
an Angel of the Lord stood by them, and the glory of God
shone round about them, and they feared with a great fear.
Aid the Angel said to them : " Fear not, for behold I bring
you good tidings of great joy that shall be to all the people ;
^oi" this day is born to you a Saviour, who is Christ the
'^rd, in the city of David. And this shall be a sign unto
you. You shall find the Infant wrapped in swaddling clothes
■nd laid in a manger. And suddenly there was with the Angel
* f^uliitude of the heavenly army, praising God, and saying :
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of
good will" (St. Luke ii.)

The Epistle to the Hebrews shows at great length that it
«« by His priesthood that Christ is the Saviour, " And where-
as indeed He was the Son of God, He learned obedience by
the things which He suffered; and being consummated He be-

8 Christian Unity. [Oct.,

came to all that obey Him the cause of eternal salvation,
called by God a High- Priest according to the order of Mel-
chisedech. ... He hath an everlasting priesthood whereby
He is also able to save for ever them that come to God by
Him, always living to make intercession for us. . . . But
Christ having come a High- Priest of the good things to come,
through a greater and more perfect tabernacle not made with
hands — that is, not of this creation, nor by the blood of goats
or of calves, but by His own Blood, entered once into the
Holies, having obtained eternal redemption." In Christ, there*
fore, the titles Saviour and Priest are identical in meaning. It
was at the moment of Incarnation that His priesthood was
given and accepted. " Christ did not glorify Himself that He
might be made a High-Priest; but He that said unto Him:
Thou art my Son : this day have I begotten Thee." And the
Son accepted, saying: "Behold I come to do Thy will, O
God " (Heb. x.) His ordination as Priest took place when " a
body had been fitted unto " Him. And at His Birth the glory
of His priesthood was manifested to the world, as told by St.
Luke.

If the word Apostles had been translated into English in-
stead of being transferred bodily from the Greek, we should
speak of them as The Sent. They are called Apostles because
they were sent. What the word implies depends on what they
were sent to do. Christ tells us in His Prayer what they were
sent to do. " As Thou didst send Me into the world, even so
have I sent them into the world." The Father sent the Son
into the world, in the first place, as Priest of salvation ; and
the Son sent the Apostles into the world as priests of minis-
tration — that is, as His ministers in placing that salvation with-
in reach of each succeeding generation. " And the glory
which Thou hast given Me I have given to them." The
Apostles did not glorify themselves that they might be made
priests ; but He who said to them : This do in commemoration
of Me. The Prayer was uttered immediately after the Last
Supper. At that Supper He had instituted Christian Public
Worship. He had offered up His own Body and Blood under
the forms of bread and wine, and then said to the Apostles:
This do in commemoration of Me. The priesthood, with all
that it involves, is one gift of glory to the Church. And this
gift makes powerfully for unity in various ways.

,HRISTIAN UNITY,

1. THE PRIESTHOOD A UNITIVE FORCE.

The dignity of the priesthood and the reverence it de-
velops are uniting forces. Racial and social differences tend
to disunion in religion. One race hates or despises another.
The rich go in one direction, the poor in another. In both
race and class differences oppression often widens the breach.
Now, the priest may belong to a despised race or class, but
none can despise him, unless he is personally unworthy ; ard
the respect shown to him raises his race or class in the esteem
of others. In a lecture recently given at Oxford University,
Mr. James Bryce, M.P , well known to Americans by his work
The American Commonwealth, said :

** It is worth remarking that in respect if not of their prac-
tical treatment of the backward races, yet of their attitude
towards them, Roman Catholics have been more disposed to a
recognition of equality than have Protestants. The Spaniard is
the proudest of mankind. He treated the aborigines of the
New World as harshly as ever the Teutonic peoples have done.
But he does not look down upon, nor hold himself aloof from,
the negro or the Indian, as the Teutons do. Perhaps this may
be owing to the powers of the Catholic priesthood and the
doctrine of Tran3ubstantiation. An Indian or a negro priest—
and in Mexico the priests are mostly Indians — is raised so
high by the majesty of his office that he lifts his race along
with him."

The following account of a recent case in the United States
is taken from the Ave Maria:

" ' In your person our race has been advanced one hundred
years,' was the grateful greeting of a prominent negro to the
Rev. J. H. Dorsey, the young colored priest recently ordained
in Baltimore. Later, Father Dorsey, in a sermon to a church-
ful of his own people, spoke words which are sure to bring
the negro closer to his white brother in the Church which
Christ founded for the salvation of both on perfectly equal
terms. We quote a paragraph :

"'Never until the day of my ordination did it become so
plain to me that a priest of the Catholic Church is surrounded
with a reverence which is overpowering. I shall never forget
the scene after the ceremony was finished. Thousands of peo>
pic crowded forward to get my blessing. No longer a question

Christian Unity. [Oct,

whether I was white or colored, rich ot poor, learned or
ignorant, — simply I was a priest, and as such I had a blessing
to impart; and the good, simple people, of all grades, classes,
and colors, were anxious to kneel and have me place my
hands, as yet moist with the holy oils, on their heads in bene-
diction. The most affecting incident of the day was the kneel-
ing before me of an old white-haired priest — eighty years or
more of age, — and his kissing my hands after I had given him
the blessing.' "

The history of England after the Norman conquest is an
instance of the same force acting on a large scale. For some
generations the bitterest enmity existed between the victorious
Normans and the conquered Saxons. Macaulay's phrases are
anti-Catholic, but his narration of the facts may be taken as
accurate :

" In no country has the enmity of race been carried further
than in England. In no country has that enmity been more
completely effaced. In the time of Richard the First the
ordinary imprecation of a Norman gentleman Was, ' May I be-
come an Englishman ! ' His ordinary form of indignant denial
was, 'Do you take me for an Englishman?' The descendant
of such a gentleman a hundred years later was proud of the
English name.

" Meanwhile a change was proceeding, infinitely more
momentous than the acquisition or loss of any province, than
the rise or fall of any dynasty. Slavery, and the evils by
which slavery is everywhere accompanied, were fast disappearing.

" It is remarkable that the two greatest and most salutary
social revolutions which have taken place in England — that
revolution which, in the thirteenth century, put an end to the
tyranny of nation over nation, and that revolution which, a few
generations later, put an end to the property of man in man —
were silently and imperceptibly effected. They struck con-
temporary observers with no surprise, and have received from
historians a very scanty measure of attention. They were
brought about neither by legislative regulation nor by physical
force. . ' . . It would be most unjust not to acknowledge
that the chief agent in these two great deliverances was religion ;
and it may perhaps- be doubted whether a purer religion might
not have been found a less efficient agent. The benevolent
spirit of the Christian morality is undoubtedly adverse to dis-

I903-]

Christtan Unity.

tinctions of caste. But to the Church of Rome such distinctions
are peculiarly odious, for they are incompatible with other dis-
tinctions which are essential to her system. She ascribes to
every priest a mysterious dignity which entitles him to the
reverence of every layman ; and she does not consider any man
disqualified, by reason of his nation or his family, for the
priesthood. Her doctrines respecting the sacerdotal character,
however erroneous they may be, have repeatedly mitigated
some of the worst evils which can afflict society. That super-
stition cannot be regarded as unmixedly noxious which, in
regions cursed by the tyranny of race over race, creates an
aristocracy altogether independent of race, inverts the relation
between the oppressor and the oppressed, and compels the
hereditary master to kneel before the spiritual tribunal of the
hereditary bondman. To this day, in some countries where
negro slavery exists, Popery appears in advantageous contrast to
other forms of Christianity. It is notorious that the antipathy
between the European and African races is by no means so
strong at Rio Janeiro as at Washington. In our own country
this peculiarity of the Roman Catholic system produced, during
the Middle Ages, many salutary eflfects. It is true that, shortly
after the battle of Hastings, Saxon prelates and abbots were
violently deposed, and that ecclesiastical adventurers from the
Continent were intruded by hundreds into lucrative benefices.
Yet even then pious divines of Norman blood raised their
voices against such a violation of the constitution of the Church,
refused to accept mitres from the hands of the Conqueror, and
charged him, on the peril of his soul, not to forget that the
vanquished islanders were his fellow-Christians. The first pro-
tector whom the English found among the dominant caste was
Archbishop Anselm. At a time when the English name was
a reproach, and when all civil and military dignities in the
kingdom were supposed to belong exclusively to the Con-
(jaeror, the despised race learned, with transports of delight,
that one of themselves, Nicholas Breakspear, had been elevated
to the Papal Throne, and had held out his foot to be kissed
by ambassadors sprung from the noblest houses of Normandy.
It was a national as well as a religious feeling that drew great
multitudes to the shrine of Becket, the first Englishman who,
since the conquest, had been terrible to the foreign tyrants.
A successor of Becket was foremost among those who obtained

[Oct.,

that Charter which secured at once the privileges of the
Norman barons and of the Saxon yeomanry. How great a
part the Catholic ecclesiastics subsequently had in the abolition
of villanage we learn from the unexceptionable testimony of
Sir Thomas Smith, one of the ablest Protestant counsellors of
Elizabeth. When the dying slave-holder asked for the last
Sacraments, his spiritual attendants regularly abjured him, as
he loved his soul, to emancipate his brethren for whom Christ
died. So effectually had the church used her formidable
machinery that, before the Reformation came, she had en-
franchised almost all the bondmen in the kingdom except her
own, who, to do her justice, seem to have been very tenderly
treated " {History of England, vol. i.)

This last sentence is significant. It happens at times that
the normal inBuence of the Church is in advance of the indi-
vidual action of ecclesiastics. This seems to have been the
case also in the Philippines. It shows that the Church has an
inner life of her own, and does not subsist merely in the men
who, for the time being, fill her offices.

3. THK SACRIFICE OF THE M.A.SS .\ BOND OF UNITY.

The Sacrifice of the Mass. which priests are ordained to
**do in commemoration" of Jesus on the Cross, is a uniting
fOfCt. Christian unity is threefold, being unity in faith, wor-
•hipi ind organization. The Mass gives unity of worship. No
matter where a Catholic goes, in any foreign country, whether
he understands the language of the people or not, he can and
does unite with them in worship at Mass and feel at home.
The Mass is the offering to God of the Victim of the Cross,
who is present on the altar under the forms of bread and
wine; and that highest of worship is everywhere and always
the Mme. All sorts and conditions of men are equal in pres-
tnoe of the Inlinitc, except so far as degrees of grace or of
sin may differ, and at Mass this humblc-mindedness is felt.
The Catholic poor feel as much at home in the Cathedral of
Nsw York as do the wealthy contributors. The Mass lifts
WMiahippers to a height from which they can be in com-
nvuniun with the whole spiritual world. All Christians are at
ouo in loicivinj; the best they have in public worship for God
Aliinn. Those who have nothing higher than prayer, praise,
and tlvanksgivinu to offer in worship do not feel at liberty to

1903.]

Christian unity

Uic these in public veneration or invocation of any saint. The
awful majesty of the Most High would seem to them lowered
if they did. But the Sacrifice of the Mass, which can be
offered to none but God, makes us free to use the lower wor-
ship of prayer, praise, and thanksgiving in veneration and in-
vocation of Saints and Angels, and prevents any possible con-
fusion of thought regarding the infinite distance between God
and any creature. It is through the Mass especially that we
have access to " the company of many thousands of Angels,
and to the assembly of the first-born who are written in the
heavens, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of
the just made perfect, and to Jesus the Mediator of the New
Testament, and to the sprinkling of Blood which speakcth bet
ter than that of Abel." The rich variety of devotions thence
resulting help to limit the encroachment of worldly interests
and to form auxiliary bonds of union in societies, confraterni-
ties, sodalities, festivals, and other "joints and bands" knitting
the Church together.

3. HOLY COMMUNION— THE CLOSEST BOND.

Holy Communion, the joint-partaking of the Victim of
Sacrifice, is a uniting force. It unites the faithful with our
Lord, and therefore with one another. " For we, being many,
are one bread, one body, all who partake of the one Bread "
(I. Cor. X.) The effect of the Bread of Life, as stated in vi.
of St, John, is: " abideth in Me and I in him." The efTect
of the "glory" given for unity is: "I in them and Thou in
Me."

The following is taken from a lecture delivered in England
and has reference to London :

" I remember years ago Canon Barnett, of Whitechapel, say-
ing to me that not one in a dozen of the people from the
West-end who worked in his parish knew how to talk to the
poor, simply and naturally. And I was reminded of this only
the other day when I had to attend a meeting in my neigh-
borhood of the Women's Liberal Association. It was held in
a drawing-room, the lady of the house receiving the members,
and I could have told with my eyes shut whether she was
saying ' How do you do ? ' to a lady of her own social standing
or to a working- woman, She apparently could not feel to the
one as she felt to the other, yet she was an active social

Christian Unity.

[Oct.,

worker of many years' standing. Of course the working-
women felt the difference as well as I, and next time they
are invited to her house they will probably itay at home, and
the lady will wonder why working- women are so unresponsive
and so difficult to get on with."

Thus, a common political interest can bring people to-
gether; but fails to bridge the social gulf. A common reli-
gious interest is a stronger bond of union ; but nothing short
of sincere mutual respect can make intercourse mutually bene-
ficial and lasting when people are far apart socially. Now,
when the Lord of Heaven comes to people in Holy Com-
munion, He thereby lays the foundation of this sincere mutual
respect. The respect of reverence for persons thus honored
at the Table of the King counteracts undue regard or undue
aversion for social superiority. The sense of equality thus en-
gendered is very noticeable in Catholic countries. In his En-
cyclical on the Holy Eucharist Pope Leo XHL says:

"Very beautiful and joyful too is the spectacle of Christian
brotherhood and social equality which is afforded when men
of all conditions, gentle and simple, rich and poor, learned and
unlearned, gather round the hoiy altar, all sharing alike in
this heavenly, banquet. And if in the records of the Church
it is deservedly reckoned to the special credit of its first ages
that the multitude of believers had but one heart and one
soul (Acts iv. 32), there can be no shadow of doubt that this
immense blessing was due to their frequent meetings at the
Divine Table; for we find it recorded of them: * They were
persevering in the doctrine of the Apoptles and in the com-
munion of the breaking of bread ' (Acts ii. 42)."

4. THE FRIESTH(50D— AN ASSOCIATION WITH CHRIST.

The priesthood in the Church is an association by
power-sharing with Christ. Its first function is to offer up
Sacrifice in worship and administer Holy Communion. Its
second function is to exercise the power given by Christ,
when He breathed on the Apostles and said to them: "Re-
ceive ye the Holy Ghost; whose sins you shall forgive they
are forgiven them, and whose sins you shall retain they are
retained." The same power is spoken of by St. Paul (II. Cor.
V.) : " All things are of God, who hath reconciled us to Him-
self by Christ, and hath given to us the ministry of reconciiia-

1903-

IhRISJIAN UNtTY.

tuny This ministry of reconciliation is a uniting force. It
reconciles men to God, and therefore unites them with one
another. Family quarrels and disputes between neighbors
give way to peace and renewed friendship all over the world,
every day of the year, through the action of this ministry.
In the Church, as in every other society, unity is bound up
largely with the action of the men in office. A society is
strong when it develops a deep sense of responsibility in its
officers, and this can only be done when they have real powers
to exercise. Such powers bind the officers to the members,
and the members to the officers. Now, Christ developed this
sense of responsibility in the officers of His Society by plac-
ing in their hands real spiritual powers. He gave them power
to forgive sins. What is it that makes a Catholic priest promptly
brave any sort of dangers to himself when called to minister. to
the sick and dying ? He may be very far from being naturally
a man of heroic mould; but he does not hesitate, because he
is conscious that the salvation of a soul may depend on his
ministry of reconciliation. Such services attach the people to
the priest, and form one of the " joints and bands," as St. Paul
calls them, which knit the Church together. The practice of
hearing confessions keeps the priest in touch with the real
moral and spiritual needs of the people. When he preaches he
is not as one beating the air. He knows what is needed.
Novelties have no attraction for him. The miseries of the sin-
laden soul are too clearly realized to permit of his wandering
far from the only remedy, "Christ and Htm crucified." Not
that he can make use of particular knowledge gained in the
confessional — that is not allowed ; but the general impression
which remains after all particular facts are forgotten has a won-
derfully steadying effect, and is one of the forces which make
for unity, because it removes the danger of unreality. Again,
all selfishness is antagonistic to unity. The selfishness of pride
is lessened by the practice of confession, and the morbid selfish-
ness which a bad conscience always engenders is relieved,

5. THE POWER OF THE WHOLE S.\CRAMENTAL SYSTE.M.

The whole sacramental system united with the priest-
hood is a uniting force in another way. In every society there
is variety of conduct in the members. Some are zealous, others
are lukewarm. Some are loyal to the society, others are dis-

posed to rebel. Some are ever hopeful, others are always cri-
tical and fault-finding. Some are good, others bad. There
must be some arrangement for keeping weak members from
falling below a minimum requirement for membership. Civil
society would fall into anarchy to-morrow if the law courts
ceased to inflict punishment. Hence, a penal code is a neces-
sary bond of union in every society. But how can a spiritual
society inflict punishments which shall at once be spiritual and
effective ? Officers can be punished by dismissal, but ordinary
members cannot thus be reached. Our Lord solved the prob-
lem for His Church by making the Sacraments the ordinary chan-
nels of special graces and favors from Him. Without those
graces the sou) is dead, and to appear before the Judgment
Seat in that state means eternal death. To exclude one from
the Sacraments thus becomes a severe punishment, and is found
in fact to be effective. It is never inflicted unconditionally.
There is always that condition that on repentance and repara-
tion (if necessary) the backsliding member regains his right to
the Sacraments. The power conveyed by the words, "whose
sins you shall retain they are retained," is used frequently in
dealing with those who are unwilling to comply with all the
essential duties of a Christian. The world is jealous of this
power, and thinks that men should not be entrusted with it ;
but Christian Unity without powers of this kind is as impos-
sible as is the solar system without the force of gravity.

(to be continued.)

.HE Abbey of Grottaferrata, of which the ninth
century of foundation is now being solemnly
celebrated in Rome, lies on the verdant slopes
of the Alban Hills, about thirteen miles from
the Eternal City, and about half a mile from
Frascati. It is a most interesting spot to visit, especially on
account of the historic memories attached to it. It is thought,
indeed, that the abbey was erected over the foundations of
Cicero's villa, of which we have such charming descriptions in
his letters to Atticus.

Another point of interest to Americans is, that near by
stands the villa where the members of the American College
in Rome take their yearly summer villeggiatura.

The founder of the abbey was St. Nilo, of Rossano, in
Calabria, who was born in the tenth century, and died at
ninety- four years of age, in the eleventh century.

When still very young he became a monk, and within a

TOL. LXXVIII —2

Grottaferra ta.

[Oct.,

very short time he was so celebrated for his sanctity and learn-j
ing that the highest dignities of the church were offered him..
These, however, he humbly declined; and to avoid further]
solicitations he left his native place, with sixty and more of
nts disciples, and went to Capua, where he was received with]
great honor by Pandolfo, its prince, and other great lords.

There also the bishopric of the cathedral was offered to him, I
which he again refused. But, to keep him in the place, Aligerno,
Abbot of Monte Casino, oflfered him the Monastery of St.
Angelo, in Valleluccio, a delightful spot on the declivity of a
mountain east of Monte-Casino, near the River Rapide.
I Here St. Milo remained about fifteen years, then passed on
to Gaeta, with a few followers, and built a monastery, called |
ijStr^ri — 4 derivation of Strapis — where once stood a temple.

It happened in those days that Filagato. a native of
CalAbria, and Uishop of Piacenza, invaded the See of St Peter,
and drove away Gregory V., thus becoming antipcpe under]
the name of John XVI.

St. Nilo, who knew him well, tried to persuade him to give
up this schism, but in vain. Then, hearing that the Emperor
Olho III. had made him prisoner, and had given him into the
hands of the populace, St. Nilo hastened to Rome to implore
the life of John XVI.

Pope Gregory V. and the emperor received St. Nilo with
jjrent honor, in St. John Lateran. Placing him in their midst,
they be^jged him to remain with them, offering him the Abbey
pf St. Anastasio, at the Three Fountains.

To save John XVI, St. Nilo accepted — hoping to have him
tvtntually in the cloister with him. He therefore remained
■0iuc> titno \\\ Rome, in the Monastery of St. Alessio. But
wh»H Ko taw John XVI. ignominiously murdered by the popu-
liOfi St Nilo, In his indignation, left Rome and returned to

Whilst ihtr« Otho III, went to see him — perhaps to make
iutviuls (br John XVL** death. St. Nilo received him with
f Vf rv hoiuM- ; but when the emperor offered to give him what-
f y«t futtlUy govuU hfl might dcs.ire, St. Nilo said : " / only ask

lU WAt »\i««»t)* -^^wr ywrs of age when he again went to
Ht«m», tiul Uu»>< with him two other saints, young Bartholemy

The Building of tkb Church.— Bv Domenichino.

After having prayed at the Apostles' tomb, he set off to

take lodging in a Greek monastery, south of Tusculum. When

tiight came on, however, he was obliged to seek refuge amongst

some old ruins, on the place where now stands the Abbey of

Grottaferrata.

There, tradition says, he had a vision of the Biessed Virgin,
who bade him erect a monastery on the spot, for a permanent
seat for his scattered disciples, and for a resting place for him-
self after death.

With daylight he and hts followers continued their road
towards the city, where they were met by Gregory, Count of
Tusculum, then one of the most powerful lords of Italy.

This count offered all his lands to St. Nilo ; but St. Nilo.
accepted only sufficient land on which to build bis monastery,
which was given to him.

The work was soon commenced, and almost immediately
afterwards St. Nilo died in the monastery of St. Agatha, near
the town of Tusculum. He died in the church, where the
monks had carried him when dying, for he had always said

I
I

Trottaferrata.

that a monk should die in a church. He died reciting the
riSth psalm.

His remains, according to his express wish, were taken to
the unfinished monastery at Grottaferrata. There they were
exposed for some time; then they were hidden to protect them
from invaders, and they have never since been found, notwith-
standing repeated prayers and researches. Thus, the Lord was
pleased to grant St. Nile's prayer: "that /lis sepulchre should
remain concealed ! " M

After St. Nilo's death, the 26th of September, 1004, the
reins of the monastic government were taken by Paul, already
far advanced in years, and well known for his holy life and
customs. He was also one of the most celebrated stenographers

m^^ '

Ihb Interior of the Church.

and penmen of his age. He was St Nilo's faithful companion,
and enjoyed his friendship to the last. He it was who gave
St. Nilo an honorable sepulchre, and he who dictated the saint's
life to St. Bartholemy.

When Paul died ail eyes turned to St. Bartholemy as his

saccessor. At first, feeling himself too young for so high a
charge, he tried to evade the succession, and only finally ac>
cepted it on the condition that he should have a companion to
help him in the government. This was granted, and Cirillo, a
msm of mature years and judgment, was chosen to be his
fellow- worker.

It was St. Bartholemy who completed the building of the
monastery and the church. The church was consecrated by
Pope John XIX., December 17, 10J4.

In the fifteenth century the church suffered modifications,
the worst of which being the substitution of stucco ornaments
for the interesting, though somewhat faded, paintings of the
twelfth century. Even the marble columns of the church, which
had once belonged to an ancient Tusculan villa, were covered
with stucco ! Everything marble, indeed, was covered - with
stucco, including the simple and bright Byzantine decorations.
In vain the monks protested against these barbarities; they
were unheeded. On the inside of the chief entrance, however,
there is an epigraph, supported by two angels, which still re-
cords this nefarious work of Cardinal Guadagui. There is also

Grottaferra ta.

[Oct/

a manuscript in the archives of the abbey attesting the pro-]
tests of the monks, and their efiforts to prevent the injuries
done to the church. Mention is also made of the ancient noblel
beauties of the church. At present, unfortunately, the churchi
has but little of its antiquity, and comparatively little of thej
beautiful, precious, and artistic decorations which once adorned it.)

The principal door of the church dates from the eleventhl
century, but has been restored by Cardinal Mattei. On the
posts are seen rilievo figures, amidst foliage and mosaics, and]
on the rafter there is an inscription, in large Greek letters, re-
minding all who enter " to lay aside earthiy cares in order toj
find the Judge within indulgent." The cedar-wood frames oi
the door; although nearly eight hundred years old, are still
perfect as if of recent make.

Over this door there is a beautiful mosaic, also of th<
eleventh century. It represents the Virgin Mary, St. John
Baptist, and, on a throne, the Saviour with a book in his left
hand, on which is written in Greek: "/ am the door; whcr
enters by me H

On entering the church the eye is at once arrested by the
Iconostasio, with the three ritual doors, and adorned with artistic
sculptures — the gift of Cardinal Barberini. The image of the
Virgin Mary was the gift of Pope Gregory IX., and the two
angels in prayer before her are by Bernini. ^

On the arch of the old apse is a rectangular tablet, repre-"
senting the twelve Apostles, forming a wing to the throne,
under which stands the Lamb. This tablet is of the twelfth
century, and it was saved from Cardinal Guadagui's destructive
work, though the paintings which surmounted it, and ran
round the whole church, could not be saved. ■

Behind this Icotiostasio stands the Greek altar, square in
form. At the sides are painted the saints of the liturgy.
Ovei^ the corners are four little porphyry columns, supporting a
little Byzantine temple, under which, between six candelabra^, ■
flies a silver dove, with the Eucharist within a hollow in its breast.

Finally, at the back of the left nave are the arms of Bene-
dict IX., on a sepulchral stone. This pope was once anti-
pope, but renounced the tiara, at St. Bartholemy's admonitions,
and descended from the Pontifical throne to follow the saint to
Groitaferrata, where he finished his days in humility and peni-
tence.

1901.

rROTTAFEf^EATA.

This sepulchre was opened and identified a few years ago.

A door under the right side aisle of the church leads to
the Farnesina Chapel — so called for having been decorated by
Cardinal Farnese. It is dedicated to St. Nilo and St. Bar-
tholemy, and contains the relics of these saints. The oil paint-

Thr Healikc op a Boy Possesskd.— Bv Domeniciiim>.

ing over the altar represents the Madonna between those two
saints, and is by Caracci. The frescoes are by Domenichino,
and were restored by Camuccini.

Within the presbytery there are two pictures; one repre-
senting Our Lady, as she appeared to St. Nilo in a vision,
when she offered him an apple to place as the foundation
stone of the abbey, which she bade him erect on that spot.

The other picture shows St. Nilo healing a boy possessed
with the devil. This picture is by Domenichino, and is con-
sidered superior to Raphael's " possessed " boy, in his " Trans
figuration " Artists and medical men of note frequently go to
Grottaferrata to study this work.

A still grander picture, by this same artist, is the one
representing the building of the church. Its perspective is a

24 Grottaferrata. [Oct,

splendid effect of the rules of art. The central group repre-
sents St. Bartholemy, with one of his disciples, and the archi-
tect, Caracci, who is explaining the plan of the church.
Another remarkable figure is a monk supporting a falling
column, and thus saving it from ruin.

Yet another celebrated picture is the meeting between St.
Nilo and the Emperor Otho, of Germany, in Serpen. In this
picture Domenichino gives his own likeness in the boy who
holds the emperor's horse, and the man who has his arm on
the horse is Guido Reni ; whilst the man at his side, who
holds a lance in his hand, is Guercino. The emperor's face is
a portrait of Cardinal Farnese, who ordered the picture, and
the white-bearded man at his back is the cardinal's father.
The dwarf, who holds the emperor's sword, is the portrait of
the buffoon of the Farnese family. The man sliding off the
horse, to the extreme right of the picture, is the superintendent
of the Farnese house. The woman in the centre of the picture
was a girl loved by the painter, a certain Fallani, of Frascati,
whose parents rejected the painter's suit. The family still ex-
ists in Frascati.

There are two other pictures by the door of the chapel.
One represents St. Nilo in prayer, and the other represents St.
Bartholemy, whose prayers saved the cornfields from destruc-
tive rains.

The baptismal font is also very interesting. It is adorned
with allegorical basso- riltevi. The men fishing are symbolical
of Christ's words : " Follow me^ and I will make you fishers of
men** The boy, throwing himself in the water, is an allusion
to baptism by immersion, as practised in the Greek Church.
The door in the centre represents the door of the church, and
the seven hills represent the seven sacraments. It is from this
door, and these hills, that the water flows into the baptistery.

THE CASTLE.

Cardinal Delia Rovere, who succeeded Cardinal Bessarion,
in 1473. was noted for his warlike spirit, and, under Bramante's
designs, he immediately began to raise walls, towers, and bat-
tlements round the abbey ; and for its further defence he had
a trench dug, from west to east, with a drawbridge in front
of the castle gate, over which is still read : " Gul. Card.
Ostien."

Grottaferj

I* —

The Castle s liXTERioR.

The armory of this castle is of very spacious dimensions,
and there are still traps in the male tower; and a dark prison
under another tower.

Cardinal Delia Roverc entrusted Sangallo with the erection
of the portico in one of the castle yards. But this was inter-
rupted when the cardinal became pope, with the name of
Julius II.

The museum, on the ground floor, contains a valuable col-
lection of artistic works. In the first room there is a complete
collection of Pinelli's engravings of the Roman customs of the
period (183 1).

In the next room there is a ceiling painted by Francesco
da Siena in 1547. There are also eight pictures, representing
the principal historical events of Fabius Maximus, which were
executed by order of Fabius Cotonna, Bishop of Antwerp.
There are many other interesting pictures in this and adjoining
rooms, some being of the thirteenth century. Others are stored
in the attics of the church.

From this room you enter the armory, which also contains

Grottaferra ta.

[Oct..

a collection of Pinelli's engravings of Greek and Roman his-
tory.

There are also busts of Greek and Latin philosophy, which
are interesting; as also is the antique furniture of the room.

Then follow three smaller rooms. In one there arc monu-
ments of profane subjects. In another there are the Cosmati
altar, and other remains of the old church ; and in the third
room there are also objects of interest, though of minor value.

THE LIBRARY.

The library of Grottaferrata Abbey contains about 12,000 1
volumes, in many languages ; all are perfectly in order, and
have an index for the benefit of students in search of any par-
ticular work. The bookcases are of walnut wood, and were
the work of a monk. This library also contains about 1,000

«u

Thk Intekjok of thu Casti.e.

old manuscripts — mostly of ' the tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and
thirteenth centuries. They are written in Greek. Some are
on parchment and some on tablets. Some are illuminated, and
some have music notes. Learned men from France, Germany,

rROTTA FERRA TA .

Jft^

The Sangai-uo Portico.

Russia. Greece, and England repair thither to study this sec-
tion of the library, which is being constantly enriched with
Xtvt works, in imitation of the ancpents, by the Paleographic
Jchool of the abbey, which thus perpetuates the traditions of
St. Nile's school. Amongst the most precious of these Greek
manuscripts there are the autographs of St. Nile — the only
relics of the saint in the possession of the abbey. There arc
three of them. They are written in beautifully clear letters,
which prove St. Nile to have been an expert in the art of
writing, and deserved his title of caligraphcr and tachygraphcr.
Here also is a chalice, in Byzantine style, with the enam-
elled arms of Cardinal Bessarion, to whom it once belonged.
Another of Cardinal Bessarion's gifts is the Eucology which
was used by the Fathers in the Council of Florence. There is
also a Codex, in ancient binding, which once belonged to the
Imperial Library of Constantinople.

The walls of the gallery leading to the library are covered
with pictures of the Basilian monks, and were executed by a
young religious who had never learnt either drawing or
painting!

Grottafehra ta.

[Oct.,

An interesting relic is an Omoforion, worn by Greek
bishops, and taken to Grottaf errata from Patras. The princi-
pal mysteries of the Saviour's life are embroidered on it, in
gold, silver, and silk, with exquisite Byzantine art.

There are many other interesting relics of art and history
preserved in this abbey, but the above will suffice to show
the importance of the abbey as regards its history, its church,
its Greek rites, its castle, its library, and all the works of art
which it contains.

It has always enjoyed the personal solicitude of the Roman ^
Pontiffs, to whom it is subjected. The late Pope, Leo XIII.,
enpecially, took the greatest interest in it.

It is also recognized and supported by the Italian govern-
ment, as being one of the first and most important monuments
of the Province of Rome.

It now counts nine centuries, and, but for a brief period,
hat never been uninhabited. It often appears in the ecclesias-
tical and civil history of Italy, and has always been the sub-
ject of great interest to all. The Italian government has de-
clared it to be a " national monument of the state."

It ii now under the guardianship of the abbot, Arscnio
I'ellegrini, who, with his Basilian monks, is ever studying to
render it more interesting to all who visit it.

Such ii the history of the work of the old man of Rossano,
the poor monk, who wandered from the depths of Calabria to
end hit life'i work by laying the foundation stone of the abbey
of Groltaf errata— St. Nilo!

THE TRAGEDY OF COUNTESS CATHERJNA.

THE TRAGEDY OF COUNTESS CATHERINA.

BY ELIZABETH SETON.

;N the course of a rather lengthened stay in a
German capital it was my fortune to become
acquainted with a most interesting person ; such
a character as we seldom meet with in our
every-day world, and yet doubtless others such,
in hidden places, live and die unknown.

The study of faces and the striving to guess soul-secrets
from outward expression and feature, has a charm for many ;
and 1 must confess that in the case of which I am about to
speak my curiosity was excited in no small degree.

In the same house as myself there dwelt a woman, seem-
ingly of means, to judge by the way she was clad and the
fine folks that at intervals called upon her.

The apartment which Countess X. occupied was the one
below mine ; her name was not on the door, and were it not
for the customary exchange of cards at the New Year, we
roight long have remained in ignorance one of the other. As
't was, more than a twelvemonth elapsed before anything but
* bowing acquaintance existed between us.

My neighbor may have been forty, and was quite hand-
some without possessing any marked regularity of feature ; it
was perhaps a certain nobleness of carriage and a pair of large
eyes that made people look a second time.

Her expression was one of placid contentment, or conceit —
I could not tell which ; a perpetual smile widened the natur-
ally small mouth, and her head, carried a trifie to one side,
lent to her whole appearance a look of child-like inquiry.

Countess X. kept but one servant, a very old person, whose
"olcful look was in stern contrast to the cheerful expression of
ber mistress. I subsequently learned that she had been nurse
to the lady, and was retained in her service as much out of
necessity as in consideration of a lifelong attachment.

This good creature was the most silent person I ever met.
A basket on her arm, she would noiselessly pass up and
down the long flight of steps without so much as a sigh; that

The Tragedy of Countess Catherina. [Oct,

she had a voice at all came to my ears from below through
the medium of the chimney, whence lively altercations would
occasionally reach me.

Late one evening, as I was returning up the common stair-
way, I met the Countess hurrying downward, a worried look in
her eyes ; she had passed me with a little nod of recognition
when she suddenly stopped. I glanced back, and seeing her
stand there so undecided, her right hand on the rail, her left
pressed against her cheek, and she too looking at me, that I
asked if I could be of any service.

"How kind of you, Fraulein; my Janet is very ill, and I
was going for a doctor ; but if — "

" Yes, to be sure." I answered, anticipating the rest of her

sentence, " let me fetch the doctor for you. You want L^ ,

do you not? He is the nearest anyway." ■

" No," she said in a low tone, " I could not afford to have
him. Please to call in H ; he is but a few doors farther."

We had changed positions whilst speaking, as I had turned
to go down again, while she now stood in her own doorway.

" You mean H , the veterinarian ? " I asked in a sur-
prised tone.

"Yes. He is an excellent physician besides." And I saw
the face of the Countess flush, and her brow contract as she
bowed to me before entering her apartment.

Certainly it was no business of mine to question further, so

I hastened on my mission, and soon returned with Dr. H , ■

a burly, good-natured man, who upon my accosting him had
asked in a careless way, with either hand on a medicine chest,
" Am I needed for four feet or two ? " I

I found out the man really did have considerable practice,
but mostly among the lower ranks.

That night the sound of quiet sobbing came up to me, ex-
citing all my sympathy for a fellow-creature in distress ; and
the following morning, feeling that my first little service might
warrant another, I descended to my neighbor's rooms, bearing
a steaming cup of coffee, thinking she might not have had time
to prepare any herself.

My ring was unanswered ; quite awhile I stood hesitating
to disturb my friend; again I raised my hand to pull the bell,
when slow steps approached and the door was opened by the
Countess.

t903.J THE TRAGEDY OF toi/NTESS CATMERfXA "

The few hours of the past night had so changed Countess X.
that had we met on the street I scarcely should have known her.
Her great eyes seemed set into a strange, desperate look ; and
the pleasant mouth was so pinched and drawn that the tips
were but thin lines. I was startled. " Janet is worse ? " I
whispered.

"Dead," was the answer.

It was not this word that meets us at every turn in life,
but the voice in which it was uttered, that caused my hand to
shake so I thought the cup I held must drop.

"Let us go in," was all I said. I had an instinct this
woman needed help ; and as if broken into submission, Coun-
tess X. closed the door, and led the way into what was evi-
dently the drawing-room.

The furniture was all antique, and on the tables and curi-
ously carved cupboards a profusion of old-fashioned silver was,
as I thought, rather ostentatiously displayed.

In the corners of the room several ancient chests, with lids
thrown back, disclosed a quantity of brocade and other rich
tissues.

Heavy damask curtains swung from ceiling to floor, keep-
ing out both light and air, for the apartment had a musty
odor more befitting an antiquary's shop than the salon of a
countess. Several stiff old-time family portraits looked down
al tne, as if to chide my thoughts, which were recalled to the
present by Countess X. motioning me to a seat; then she
threw herself into another in an attitude so full of despair that
*ll tny curiosity fled.

There are some sorrows that awe even sympathy into
silence ; and although I knew my neighbor had only lost an
aged servant, yet I felt the grief I witnessed must have some
undercurrent into which for the moment 1 could not break.
At last the Countess spoke:

" You must think it very singular in me to receive you
thus, after your. kindness ; but^but my loss is greater than
4ny one knows ! " Sh& sat with her forefinger on her lips, as
one not wishing to say too much ; and now and again her
tyts would close tightly, almost spasmodically, as if to drive
away some painful vision.

It is impossible to the impulsive nature of woman to look
upon distress without wishing to lessen it; therefore, urged by

32 The Tragedy of Countess Catherina. [Oct.,

this sentiment, I went up to the Countess, and putting my
hands upon her shoulders, I pressed my cheek down upon her
head and whispered :

" Dear soul ! you have a great sorrow and need some one
to help you bear it. I am a stranger ; but if you have no
one near to bring comfort, you must make use of me"; and
I sealed my little speech with a kiss.

A moment's silence ; then the sad words :

"In the wide, wide world I have no one to care for me or
love me now."

And prompted to it by my sympathy this poor, solitary
creature clung to me and cried like a child.

I it was who made the arrangements for the burial of old
Janet, and we two were the only mourners that followed this
" good and faithful servant " to her last resting place.

As was natural, considering the circumstances that brought
us together, we grew .to be fast friends.

Countess X. being like myself a Catholic, I discovered in
her a piety deep and unaffected, with a wealth of self-sacrifice
which showed itself in many ways during the course of our
too short acquaintance.

One thing rather surprised me in her character : so charita-
bly outspoken in her views and comments upon others, she
herself, to the end, remained a sealed book.

Although I had confided to her the simple story of my
life, with its trials and consolations, she never volunteered to
disclose to me anything of her own past.

One evening, as she rose to bid me good night (we had
been working together in my rooms, for since the funeral, six
weeks ago, she had so managed that I could find no excuse
for going to her apartment), she gave my hand a rather more
than wonted pressure as she slowly said :

"Elizabeth, we will not meet to-morrow. It is not likely
that we shall ever see each other again. God will bless you
for what you have been to me in my trouble; but I feel
before we part that I owe it to our friendship to let you
know a little more about myself. This you will read when I
am gone." And as she spoke she drew from her pocket a
small parcel, which she placed in my hand.

Her words so dazed me that at first I could not speak;
but recovering myself, I answered : " Catherina. my friendship

1903.J THE Tragedy of Countess Catherina. 33

hai certainly not deserved this mystery. Am I not to know
why, and where you go ? "

"The papers will tell you all."

" But surely, Catherina, you are not parting from me
now?" I asked, feeling truly hurt at the strange conduct of
my friend.

" I leave on the midnight express," she replied, her eyes
cast down, while a sad smile played on her lips.

"To-night!" I ejaculated.

"Yes. The carriage may even now be waiting. Good- by!
Judge me kindly."

For a brief space Catherina clasped me in her arms, and
then hastened down to her lodging, whilst I remained at my
door speechless with astonishment.

Before very long 1 heard the Countess come out of her
apirtment, and looking over the banisters I saw that she was
indeed ready for a journey. In one hand she held her travel-
ling bag, and in the other (the gas in the public stairway hav-
ing been turned off) she carried a wax light, such as we use
abroad to read by at early Mass. She turned her face towards
me. but her sight could not penetrate the darkness, and as I
stood motionless, she doubtless thought I had gone in ; where-
as tile taper she held made about my friend a great, luminous
circle which gave to her black figure an unearthly appear-
ance.

Something she murmured which I could not catch ; then
she descended. Countess X. had reached the last turn in the
steps when I conquered my feelings enough to call out; "God
bless you, Catherina."

For a second she stopped as if she had heard my voice;
then she quenched her light as she passed into the court- yard
and was for ever lost to me.

The void I felt at this parting with my friend and daily
companion quite absorbed any curiosity to know her story.
Besides, I was conscious of a feeling of irritation with mystlf
^or having got to like a person so much who seemed to have
rejected my friendship, and certainly doubted my discretion;
and my first impulse indeed was to destroy the papers which
she had left with me. As it was, I hid them in my desk, nor
gave them a thought for nearly a month.

About this much time had elapsed since the departure of

VOL. LXXVIII —3

The Tragedy of Countess Catherina. [Ocf

Catherina when one day I saw her rooms invaded by a pait^
of men, headed by a youth of some eighteen years.

This young man looked so like my friend that I could no
help giving him a rather long stare, which was fully re
turned.

His eyes were large and soft like hers, only that he lookec
through them half closed, which gave the youth a treacherous
cat-like expression.

As I closed the door to my apartment I remembered the
papers which Countess X. had given me, and determined t<
read them on the spot. Upon opening the parcel I found, t(
my surprise, that it consisted of but three letters, each in i
different hand-writing.

I read them in the order in which they lay.

The first was dated some ten years back, from Madeira
and was in the fine, uncertain hand of a woman :

" Dearest Catherina : Lately, I have been suffering verj
much and feel as if the end must be near. What would I no
give to have you beside me, or to have money enough to g<
to your arms, my own sister, to die !

" But fate, or, as you would say, God, has willed it other
wise. Had I but heeded our dear mother's advice and no

married that , but no ; (et him rest in peace. 1 myscl

am too near death to raise my voice against the father of m>
child.

" O Catherina t this boy, my darling boy, is growing so wild
I dread the future. Selfish, passionate, deceitful, just as waj
Conrad ! And yet with all his faults, I believe my son musi
have some good in him, for he looks so very like you
When I am gone, Catherina, you must be his mother.

'' Curt is the last of our race, even if he has not th<
family name; and you must promise to be a mother to him;
do so now, Catherina dear, as you read these lines ; they may
be my last ; promise to let no sacrifice be too great to mak<
him worthy of our past As I write he is playing soldier on the
veranda, and making a frightful racket ; he does not know how
ailing I am, O sister, how I love my boy ! Promise me you
will do the same. I believe that from my grave I shall envy
you his caresses I

" Your last remittance, which you tell me is the proceeds ol

1903.] THE TRAGEDY OF COUNTESS CATHERTNA. 35

the sale of our father's shooting box in the Tyrol, I have not
yet touched. If I do not last long it will be quite enough to
bury me decently, and send Curt home to you. The same
captain who brought us out to the island will take my boy
bick; I have already spoken to him about it, and have his
promise. Dearest Catherina, I am too weary now to write any
fflore; I may be able to write again soon; but daily I beg
God to bless you for the many sacrifices you have always
made for me. Pray for your ever loving and grateful sister,

" M-A-RGARET."

The second letter ran as follows:

" Dear Aunt : So old Janet is dead at !ast ! Well, I am
sorry for you, as you must be quite helpless without her. You
will not know how to dispose of your work, or even to sell
your curiosities to advantage.

"I am going to apply to the colonel for leave of absence,
so I can get down to see you next week ; and you can give
roe all your valuables to sell. A young fellow of my position
and good old blood cannot be expected to live on the pay of
an ensign. I want now a good round sum — not the mean drib-
blets you have been doling to me since I left school. At any
rate, I should have quite as much right to the things as you
have, I suppose; and then, you do not need money as I do;
you kiiow how to economize; I cannot. Your lovely fancy-work
should be sufficient support. But my advice is, go into a con-
vent; lots of your name have done so. Only if you do, please
enter a convent where the nuns don't write, as I am pretty
Weary of your sermons. And remember, like a good old aunt,
to have the things I need all ready for me. There is a man here
who just went wild when I told him of grandmother's jewels;
'I seems they were quite celebrated. I think I shall bring him
with me.

"Good-by for the present. Your affectionate

" Curt."

This, I made no doubt, was from the youth whom I had
just seen entering her apartment. ^

Poor Catherina, I thought to myself, how little did I know
you, and what sacrifices you were making for such a thankless
youth !

The tragedy of Countess Catherina. [Oct,

The third paper was much shorter than the others, and
penned in a clear, stereotyped hand; it read thus:

" My dear Madam : Your favor of has been duly

considered, and I have the honor to inform you in return,
from our Reverend Mother Superior, of your acceptance. Any
member of your esteemed family will ever be welcome to the
holy order of Mount Carmel, which has already given to so
many of your name shelter and peace. Our Reverend Mother
Superior desires me furthermore to add, that with your educa-
tion and talents no dowry will be necessary.

" 1 have the honor to be, madam, your very humble and
obedient servant in Xt,

"SlSTEk JOHX OF Till-: CROSS."

So this, then, was the end of that silent tragedy !

A long time I sat with those letters in my hand, thinking
of my friend and striving to analyze the motives which had
driven her to seek the calm shelter of a convent. Was it the
consummation of a sacrifice ; or had she fled from a duty
which she lacked the strength to perform ? Or had she sought
peace and rest in God ? My mind was full of Catherina, when
a violent ring at the bell startled me to my feet, and upon
opening the door I was not surprised to see before me the
young ensign. Curt.

"Have I the honor of addressing Miss S ?" he said,

giving a slight bow with the military salute

I bent my head in response, and he drew forth a smaU
packet.

" My aunt, Countess X., before entering the convent, de-
sired me to present you with this little keepsake"; handing
me the packet.

To my acknowledgment of thanks I added : " I trust, sir,
your aunt, my good friend, will have a happy life in the con-
vent."

" No doubt of it, madam. A nunnery is always the best
place for an old maid I I am your servant." And with pro-
found, almost mocking, obeisance the young man withdrew.

The package contained a miniature " Ecce Homo," which
Catherina had constantly worn as a medallion. It had then
been set in an antique frame of chased gold ; this was now
gone, and in my hand lay only the vellum on which the pic-

1903]

A Moonlit Night.

ture was painted. Curt had evidently found the golden part
of the keepsake too valuable.

A couple of years after these events, happening to be in

H .33, in which city I knew the convent to be whither

Catherina had flown for peace, I had the curiosity to call on
her.

As I did not know her name in religion, I asked for the
Coantess X., and gave the date of her entrance.

The sister-portress smiled a heavenly smile as she an-
swered :

"Sister Mary Theresa of Jesus was called for whilst in the
beginning of her novitiate."

"Has she left?" I stupidly inquired.

With an upward glance, and a tremulous sigh, " For Home "
tl«c sister-portress replied, and closed the grating.

A MOONLiT NIGHT.

The night is sanctified with holy seeming,

All nature joins to worship the Divine,
Like newly- lighted ahar candles gleaming

The stars begin to shine ;
Like incense is the perfume of the valleys,

The winds like voices sing along the coast,
While high above the ocean's brimming cha'ice

The moon hangs like a Host!

Denis A. McCarthy,

Building the Brick House of a Missionast.

A NARRATIVE OF THE MISSIONS ON THE CONGO.

by j. b. tugman.
(continued.)

'ROM this we made for Grand Cess, where we
were supposed to ship our complement of Kru-
Boys. These form the working tribe, and are
in demand and much appreciated by all classes of
whites along the entire coast. The Kru-Boys,
one might infer, were youths. Not so, however; they present
a powerful set of men, and are shipped to work cargo, for
unless the ships had them to fall back upon it would be an
impossibility to conduct the trade, as the heat along the coast
is insufferable in the open air and is intensified in the hold of
a vessel. These men are gathered from some of the most sav-
age tribes known to have existed, and present no evidence
whatsoever of any training from a religious stand- point, their only
attainments being the ability to engage in laboring work, coupled
with a certain knowledge of the English and French languages,
which from necessity they have learned to talk in a manner
peculiar to themselves. They form a study, and become at
once engaging and interesting. The first thing that strikes

1903] A Narrative of the Missions on the Congo. 39

one is their singular names, that are evidently bestowed upon
them as circumstances and occasion warrant. Of these some
arc ludicrous, whilst others are singularly vulgar. In the for-
mtr category are " Half-pence," " Taliow-candle," " Half-crown,"
"Black-monday," " Jack knife," and sundry others more ludi-
crous still.

Having shipped the full complement of these we proceeded
on our voyage.

These Kru Boj s are divided into gangs, each under their
respective " headman," who, like the ordinary foreman in our
workshops, oversees and attends to the general requirtmcnts of
those under his charge. This headman holds authority not
alone as regards their work, but in all matters affecting their
treatment, in matters of duty and conduct. Thus, in all cases of
dereliction of duty the headman is the responsible party ; in all
questions arising out of differences relative to their treatment both
as regards their food and lodging, the headman again becomes
the recognized arbiter. With these men corporal punishment is
permitted ; but this only after the cutprit has been tried
through the agency of his headman, who becomes the admin-
istrator of the measure prescribed by the white man. As one
night naturally expect, this punishment has in many cases
been inhumanly inflicted, as you will be abte to imagine from
what I personally experienced whilst en route.

At one of the trading stations, situated at one of the many
points we touched, there was a European in charge who,
with his assistant, conducted quite a large trade with the
natives. The station was isolated and a considerable distance
f^'Om the other European houses. As is the custom when
times are peaceful, but little attention is given to any personal
Security, The house is open all night, and its protection from
marauders committed to the care of a watchman, who is sup-
posed to guard it, and who in the exercise of his duty, like
the ancient watchmen of the old world, makes known his vigi-
lance by announcing his presence and signifying the safety of
all at stated periods during the whole night.

The Kru Boy, as I have already stated, has his origin in
the most ferocious tribes known along the coast. Not only
are they cannibals, but, with all the stealth of the wild man of
the woods, are capable of the ^lost sanguinary outrages.
Apart from their natural tendencies they present, however,

TARRATrv^^H^nssfof^Of^Hl^ONGO, [Oct.,

capabilities that are certainly far superior to those who have
become influenced by the Protestant reh'gion, and whilst away
from their own country are rendered amenable to the authority
of the white man. Their love, however, of strong drink,
coupled with the quality of this, has in more than one instance
proved their ruin. The effect that this trade-rum has upon
them is to render them utterly beside themselves, arousing in
them all the natural instincts of their savage nature. The in-
cident that I refer to had for its origin over-indulgence of this
character. One night the gentleman in charge of the station
had occasioa to get up for some purpose, and whilst crossing
a large room, used as a dining and barter hall, observed the
form of some one creeping stealthily to the door of his room.
Determined to watch the purpose of this nocturnal visitor, and
the better to frustrate his end, my friend, without being de-
tected, slipped into a room where his assistant slept and se-
cured his revolver, returning once more to the observation cf
the stranger. The negro, who in ihe dark appeared to be a
native, was armed with one of the long cane-knives known as
"machetes," used for clearing away brus-h. Enttrirg ihe ret m
of the white man, the negro, finding it unoccupied, immedi-
ately withdrew, and crossing the hall, came straight for the
quarters of the young assistant. My friend, divining his pur-
pose at once to be that of murder solely, concealed himself
behind the door, and, with a rifle in hand, prepared to receive
the assassin. It would have been better had he without fur-
ther to-do shot the intruder, having the fullest evidence of
the nature of the crime that was meditated, than to have re-
sorted to what was to follow. Instead of this, as the negro
entered the door, with the butt of the rifle he hit him over the
head, stunning him; then, arousing the greatly alarmed assis-
tant, bound the negro and handed him for safe custody to the
night guard, in a room kept apart for all classes of prisoners.
On searching around, it was found that before entering the
station house the negro had built a fire in the rear, the smoke
of which was already filling the house proper, thus emphasiz-
ing the fact as to the nature of his intent.

The following morning, the day of our arrival, the negro
was arraigned for trial and found guilty, the evidence being
submitted to the various headmen, who all agreed as to the
verdict. The negro was condemned to be flogged, which

190].] A Narhative of the Missions on the Congo. 41

operation was to last until the chief of the station should decide
the punishment was adequate to meet the crime, and serve as
an example to all those who might be led to perpetrate a
similar act. Accordingly the man was lashed to a post and the
infliction of the punishment started about nine o'clock; it was
about one o'clock when we got ashore, and the flogging was
still in course of infliction, and lasted till we had finished our
dinner, when my attention was called to the victim, the account

Harnessing the Elei'Uant.

of whose crime was given to me at the dinner table. The poor
creature presented the most horrible spectacle imaginable; not
a piece of skin was left upon his body ; the cruel lash had
circled from his feet upwards, tearing away the skin and flesh,
till alt sensibility was lost, and from all appearance life was
completely extinct. With our arrival upon the scene the pun-
ishment stopped and the victim was removed to his hut.
Inhuman as this treatment undoubtedly was, there were cer-
tainly extenuating circumstances that went far to justify the
indiciion, not so much as regards the individual self as the ex-
ample to others, who 'Were in nowise above committing similar

42 A Narrative of the Missions on the Congo. [Oct.

ofl^ences. When it is considered that the Europeans are entirely
within the power of those with whom they live, having no
governm;nt to protect them, no authority to appeal to for pro-
tection against the commission of such outrages, and in view
of the fact that these outrages have been committed not alone
upon the lives and property of one but entire parties of white
men; and considering the danger that menaces the European
from all sides, it must be allowed that no measure is too severe
that has for its object the prevention of these most inhuman
crimes of wholesale slaughter.

From my limited experience at this time with the Kru-Boys^
I could scarcely have imagined them capable of such an act,
for I had learned to greatly admire them for their simple, in-
offensive ways and their apparent appreciation of all acts of
kindness. For, as a token for any slight gift, by them termed
" a dash," they would manifest their highest sense of gratitude,
going so far as to declare " you all same mi fader."

From Grand Cess we proceeded to Cape Palmas, at which
port we arrived without incident of any importance. Here we
were to take aboard a lady passenger, much interest being
aroused among all the passengers, for so rare an occurrence
was greatly to be appreciated. Feeling the lack of the feminine
influence that a lady wields, and sensible of the effects that un-
bridled manners and talk lead to, we ail felt highly elated when
the news was communicated to us by the purser, and each
vied with the other in making the very best of his appearance.
The lady in question being, as it was stated, the wife of an
official and a ruling spirit among the American missionaries of
Liberia, no preparations were too elaborate, and as she did not
come aboard till the last moment our patience was considerably
taxed.

At last the boat was seen to put off from the shore, and
the news conveyed from one to the other of the expectant
youths, all eager to take a first glance at the interesting arrival.
As the boat drew near the interest became less, till it mani-
fested itself in disappointment, and as the lady stepped on
deck the ardor of the would-be gallants had been cooled, not
to say frozen completely, for our new acquaintance was not
alone of a beautiful ebony color, but as ugly as you might
find anywhere, and attired in flowing gown of many colors and
a bonnet that might have had its origin at the hands of Worth,

igOi^^^T^I^^ OF THE M^SWNSON THE CONGO. 43

Learning to make Shoes.

but which by frequent handling evidently had lost its primitive
beauty, and with it all shape and form.

The new arrival among us, rejoicing in the name of Emma
Ja-Ja Johnson, was no less than the minister to his Highness
King Ja-Ja of Opobo, a royal personage of great authority and
influence, whose taste enabled him to expatiate upon the deli-
cacy of human flesh, and who could doubtless recommend the
most toothsome method of cooking same or eating it " au
naturel." Her age to my mind, judging from appearances,
would have brought her pretty close to the prescribed limit of
man's earthly career, and her appearance in consequence of her
little idiosyncrasies, or perhaps those of her exalted master,
had suffered in consequence.

Her coiflTure was conformed, doubtless, to the exigencies of
the court to which she had the exalted honor of being attached,
and was calculated to impress one with the fact that Parisian
art had not as yet found its way to that far-ofl country. It
consisted of a set of short, stubby plaits shooting out in all
directions like the dark rays of some evil genius made visible.

Void of that sense of distinction that characterizes us

44 A Narrative of the Missions on the Congo. [Oct.,

Americans, and unwilling to pander to those on the part of
the steamship companies, this woman was provided with a seat
in the main saloon, and in like manner a stateroom in the first
cabin. These she occupied with all the dignity becoming her
station without the fear of any advantage being taken of her,
or her sense of propriety being shocked by the act of any
admirer.

The excitement of this new arrival having worn off, matters
assumed once more their normal condition, and as the monot-
ony of the voyage required us to resort to all the pastimes
that each one could invent, we were all eager to sound our
new compagnon de voyage as to her ideas and opinions upon
all matters pertaining to the • policy and government of the
nation she so ably and distinguishedly represented. No better
authority could have been afforded us to gain a knowledge of
the characteristics and ideas of the natives than this lady,
— a knowledge that might serve in case we should be brought
too close to be comfortable to those gentlemen whose epi-
curean tastes led them to indulge in such delicacies as human
flesh.

From her account of her early training it appeared that she
was beholden to the American Mission, a branch of the Bap-
tist denomination, and from her teachers had learned how to
read and write, and incidentally a knowledge of ancient Bibli-
cal history. Her ideas- upon all matters concerning religion
were revolting to an extreme, and showed only too plainly the
fallacy x)f and the injury that are done to these poor creatures by
submitting to their own crude ideas the sacred passages that were
meant to be first interpreted propeily, and then imparted in a
way that would beget far loftier ideas than are actually given.
The atrocious crime that is committed in their perversion of the
most sacred passages of what we all consider to be Holy Writ
must certainly fall upon some one ; and in view of the fact that
these poor creatures are wholly incapable of appreciating their
true character and nature, it would be unjust in the extreme
to hold them responsible for these heinous offences against
what Protestants allow represents the Word of God. For my
part, I did not profess any great degree of sanctity; but it
was nevertheless revolting to hear the construction this crea-
ture placed upon those passages that my parents had taught
me were the most sacred. The only effect produced by this

1903.J A Narrative of the MrssroNS on the Congo. 45

creature was, therefore, one of disgust and abhorrence, and
should have proven a lesson to our two young companions
who were bent upon continuing to sow this same seed, having
before them a practical sample of the fruit it yielded.

Leaving Cape Palmas we called at Grand Bassam, and from
thence to Cape Coast Castle, where we received one of the
recruiting officers of the Congo Expedition. This gentleman
had for some months been engaging what were for us our
military, natives of the Yoruba tribes in the interior of the
Gold Coast, whom the British government had been able to
get good military service out of during its campaign in
Ashantce, but whom, so far as we were concerned, never dis-
played any great amount of skill or adaptability. My brother
offiier, after having engaged some three hundred men, succeeded
in landing about thirty all told, including a priest of the Mo-
hammedan profession. Their appearance as they came aboard
was, to say the least, impressive ; their attire, such as the
natives wore, unlike the limited garb of other tribes, consisted
of the typical Mohammedan dress of cloak and turban in all
the fancy colors of their own peculiar choice.

The priest, attired in blue, with a turban that hid all but
his facial features, presented a curious sight ; and to add to
the hideousness of their general appearance, they all were
chewing the cola nut, which discolored their whole mouth and
tcetli, giving ihem a singularly dirty and repulsive appearance.

Void of that geniality that distinguished our Kru-Boys,
these men, some with their wives, appeared to be anything
hut dated with the prospects before them, and huddled together
on the foredeck like mournful captives leaving their homes for
long captivity. And surely their looks did not belie them, for
it was discovered that they had so far departed from the
tenets of the founder of their faith as to have vowed that they
would not again be guilty of the precept of ablution laid down
''y him until they should be once more landed in their native
land, which, according to the term of service, was to be three
ywrs. How long this vow had been made we could not
*scertain, but from all appearances it was evident that water
wd not been applied externally for some time. With due re-
gard for the sanitation of his ship, and the general condition
and comfort of all concerned, our captain informed the officer
in charge that provision would be made for them to wash at

fARRA TTVE OF THE MISSIONS ON THE

the proper time in the morning, which was during the hour
appointed for holystoning and washing the deck, and that
they would be expected to indulge, like every one else, in the
performance of this duty. This news when communicated tofl
the priest was received with the utmost indignation and viewed
as the foreshadowing of still further atrocities on the part of
their new masters. All kinds of protests were made and all

tOKMER blUDtNIS y>» THE MISSION AT W'OKK ON THE KAII.BOAD.

manner of threats resorted to, among them being that he, ihe
priest, would not be able to control his flock or be answerable
for the results of such arbitrary action. The vow was made
and duly recorded, and its breach would undoubtedly be re-
sented by the power in whose presence it had been made. .
Failing to take advantage of the arrangements, and in spite of
all entreaties on the part of their senior officer, when the boat-
swain arrived at the point where they were gathered — for they
were deck passengers — the hose was turned upon them, and
thus they were compelled to divest themselves and submit to
the powers that were. Our trip was uneventful until we arrived
at Bonny, where we were received by the traders, who then all _
lived on hulks. ■

From Bonny we called at Old Calabar, where we landed

igoj.) A Narrative of the m/ssfons on the Congo, 47

our distinguished female passenger, as we did not call at
Opobo. Before leaving she requested that I accept one of her
photographs, which I was very glad to possess, thinking that
I might some day find space for it in one of our pictorial
papers. During the course of my travels I regret to say that
it was lost, and for this reason I am prevented from conveying
to your imagination a true likeness of this singular person.

Leaving Old Calabar, we proceeded on our voyage, calling
at Fernando Po, Cameroons, Gaboon, and arrived at Loango,
on the Quilo River, where a disaster occurred that nearly cost
us the loss of both ship and passengers.

I have already explained that the Kru-Boys work cargo,
Ltt me, therefore, give some idea of their methods. Not over-
burdened by clothing, which consists of a simple clout, their
condition in this if in no other respect renders them singularly
fit to withstand the intense heat of the ship's hold, which to be
appreciated must be experienced. These powerful men enter
ihc hold, and handing such packages as are wieldy from one
to the other, eventually land it on deck, where in turn it is
handed into the lighter that is alongside. This method, which
it particularly expeditious for such cargo as case gin and trade
rum in demijohns, both of which formed the bulk of our cargo,
does away with the steam winches to a very great extent, and
proves an advantage in many ways.

During this operation a continuous song is raised, varying
as the day draws out from the lively to the mournful dirge
one might imagine forms the appropriate strains for their
funeral ceremonies, and by which one can judge the condition
of the workers. Though this continuous chanting becomes ex-
ceedingly monotonous, it has been found to be a feature es-
wnlial to the working of cargo, and its absence wil! immediately
wouse suspicion on the part of the quartermaster and excite
^is vigilance at once. Working as they are among what is the
■aost tempting beverage known to them, and considering the
Mtural consequence of indulgence, it is required that they sing
*o as to make known the fact that they are not otherwise
engaged.

At one o'clock, the luncheon hour, the passengers on this
pirticular day were feeling all the attendant excitement incident
^0 the closing days of our long voyage. The mea! ended, and
*t last, as was our usual custom, we repaired to the quarter-

48 A NARRATrVE OF THE MISSIONS ON THE CONGO. [Oc

deck, there to enjoy as much of the cool breeze as there mig
be. Our captain, who had preceded us, had taken his sc
and was preparing for his accustomed nap Whilst, in coinpai
with a few otheri, I was coming out of the saloon, which i
to Ihe main deck immediately aft of the main hatchway,
volume of the densest black smoke arose, and simultaneous
appsared numirous black forms in rapid succession. Then tl
dreadful cry of " Fire " was raised, and passed from mouth
mouth. The captain, not waiting to descend the companion wa
leaped the rail of the quarter-deck to the main deck, and to<
his station in command of the situation. Fearful as the cry of fi
sounds to the ear of any one ashore, no matter what the circiiE
stances, the horror that strikes one when it is raised on shipboa
surpasses any that I have ever felt. Our after-hold was filh
with gin cases and trade rum, and as I looked over the side in
the hold I saw that the fire had evidently originated among tl
latter, and the wicker-work that encased each demijohn provt
the best kind of conductor and fuel, for as it ignited the he
at once burst the demijohn, and the result was that explosu
after explosion took place, threatening total destruction to tl
ship and cargo.

Viewing the rapidity with which the flames spread, at
knowing that we had a considerable amount of gunpowder
our fore-peak, I took in the situation at a glance, and f<
that our chances were but slight of saving the vessel. But tl
value of a stout heart, quick wit, and undaunted courage w
not wanting in those who were in authority. With th
characteristic that denotes the man of courage, our bra'
captain, one of those men who have upon so many occasioi
signalized themselves as men of the noblest type, always ali
to the responsibility that rests upon them, and always read
willing, and capable to cope with whatsoever danger mig
assail them, this son of Erin, Captain Keene, took his static
and directed the efforts for bringing the flames under contn
The chief engineer and the second officer descended into tl
hold, which appeared at this time like a seething furnace, wi
a line of hose. Having reached the lower deck, they direct*
a stream of water to the point at which the frames appear*
to have taken the strongest hold. The lighters that had be«
alongside cut loose, leaving the vessel to her fate. All han*
were prepared for the worst, yet the utmost calm prevails

and all attention was directed to one who stood at the scene
prepared to meet all emergencies, be they what they might.
Our Kru-Boys took refuge as far forward as they could, and
the crew of European sailors stood at their stations ready lor
orders. At last the two brave men below succeeded in bring-
ing the flames under control. After clearing away the debris
and guarding against further danger, the hatches were closed
down and we proceeded on our voyage, and landed at our
destination, Banana, without further mishap.

OBEDIHNCE.

The mystic keynote of the universe —
Rung thro' the canticles of all the seas,
Thro* wind-wove fugues and starry symphonies,
Thro' soul songs which outsound Earth's primal curse.

Mary Teresa Waggaman.

VOL. LXXVIU. — 4

LUMEN DE OHLO .ETERNA I'ER S.ECULA LUCEAT.

BY PHILIP I'AUI.DING BHANT.

'^^^^^EO, our beacon light, God's Angel dread hath sought.
No more athwart the night gloom glows the won-
drous Star
Towards which sore-pressed humanity with cares dis-
traught
E'er turned for guidance which came streaming from afar.

Speak, and assume once more, upon thy storied throne

Of seven hills, imperial Rome, thine old domain

Of universal sway : and many tongued intone

Upon the soulful bronze a holy, mournful strain,

That tolls alike rn doleful sob of sovereign grief

Across the heaving main to earth's remotest shore;

From Sainted Isle through Albion's halls to where Belief

Is shrined in mosques, and tabled rests in temples hoar:

Reverberating call from pole to pole, and bid

The nations pause awhile, as from his folded flock

The Shepherd mounts to Sion's crest from mortals hid,

And stands refreshed from mighty toils before the Rock

Eternal, where enthroned Deity doth dwell,

Gracing with Beatific Vision all the blest.

The wearied hands have dropped their gentle staff — farewell!

Christ minded Man, God grant thee rest, sweet peace and rest !

1903.] IVMEN DE CiELO , Sterna per S^cula lvceat, 5 1

II.

Sink trustfully, great soldier-shepherd, to thy sleep
In life's last bivouac, while "round thee guards the world
Unto iby next awakening, when in angels' keep
Thy soul heroic greets eternal joys unfurled
To thee with thy bright train of candid souls relieved
From holy durance, without Heaven's gates detained
For trespasses against God's Majesty aggrieved,
But freed to quire thy hymned praises unrestrained.
I On earth the new-born brotherhood of alien creeds
I With grand response, in sharing, comforts our distress:
~ We knew, yea, loved him well, cry they, for in our needs
^ He stood for right and foremost undertook redress,
B Nor shall there be one tribute wanting 'round thy bier.
Dear«st to thee, paternal Leo, bowed in shame,
Repentant o'er thy holy corse, with many a tear
Will kneel thine eldest spiritual child. And Fame
Shall tell beyond alliances of time and space.
Beyond earth's final revolution, many voiced
With minstrelsy angelic 'round the Seat of Grace,
The grateful generations of a world rejoiced.

tvell, great Pontiff, Prince, and Father, Heaven's Gift
light to storm -bound earth, for thee our prayers we lift

\^a <\

.^^

Cellini and His Memoirs.

[Oct.,

CELLINI AND HIS MEMOIRS.

SY THOMAS B. REILLY.

[N the whole range of the history of Italian art no
period is more alluring than the first forty years
of the sixteenth century. Writers, with few ex-
ceptions, affirm that the life of Benvenuto Cellini
is an exact index to that age. This is due in
large part to the fact that the Florentine left to posterity some
highly entertaining memoirs. His autobiography is an ani-
mated narrative of a very stormy life. It was the source of
much amusement for Horace Walpole ; Goethe translated it
into German; and Augu^te Comte regarded it with partial eye.
The book, however, is neither truthful nor accurate in details.
It is the product of a vain and sensual bravo; and, despite
opinion to the contrary, is not to be accepted as a " valuable
historical document." f Nor should the student look on Cellini
as the "mirror of corrupt, enslaved, yet still resplendent Italy." |
This worker in gold was extreme in thought, feeling, and ex-
perience ; that these might be justified to others, he paints the
social fabric of his day with an apt and shadowy foreshorten-
ing. He uses the lips of pope and* prince to sing his heroism
in the face of marvellous conditions. Remembering this, you
can read between the lines of his recital and measure him in
the naked light of inordinate vanity. To take hiir seriously, as
some writers have done, is to miss the lull flavor of his words.
Cellini was true in nothing but a love for his art ; was
interested in none but himself; was sure of nothing but
his own im;Tiaculate righteousness. Patriotism, a word beloved
of him, caused no twinge of heart; it was at best an oppor-
tunity to gain praise by some act of physical daring. From a
free reading of his work, we are led to think that the libertine
virtu of Machiavelli had quite stifled moral authority, and that
good or evil made no appeal to society. In the province of
art individualism was, indeed, the crowning and logical note;

'Vide Vita di BenvenuU Cellini, publicata Giovanni P. Carpani.

t Vide ReHoistance ut Italy, J. A. Synionds, p. 333, %IHd., p. 389.

1903.]

Cellini and His Memoirs.

but in the field of morals this was not wholly true. That one
nan bade his prince ignore the laws is not evidence against a
nation's honor That one man's pastimes were " killing, wan-
toning, disputing with employers, and working diligently at
his trade," is not proof that all men were of the same mould
and tendency. That a single energetic character showed no
rectitude of life shadows none but himself.

It was very easy for a person of Cellini's stamp to strip dig-
nity and conscience from the Papal chair. In the heat of thought-
less and formless dictation pique swells into unjust bulk. Cellini
scorned the laws of church and state. His intimation, however,
that no man of spirit ever appealed to them is a bit of brag-
gadocio that smells of self-justification. Vanity alone will not
account for his countless attempts to exonerate himself from
wrong.doing. After a page or two of excuses, one is inclined
to suspect the creature of having some sort of conscience. This
suspicion is confirmed by his numerous flights to the cardinals
for protection. These sanctuary retreats were not made through
fear of his victim's relatives, for Cellini's courage was unmis-
talcable though foolhardy. He dreaded no man nor odds. He
possessed rare artistic possibilities; was a person of violent tem-
per and obstinate will. Outside of his artj his instincts were
brutal, and his indulgence flagrant. Vengeance stung him to
the commission of great and small crimes. His life was one of
^ree pleasure and violence. The result of this on his art is
noticeable. His works are the embodiment of soulless paganism,
Michael Angelo, in juxtaposition, was a truer type of the
intense spirit of the age. Cellini, at best, yields us hints of
the outward and human activity of his day ; a day, however,
that was not without its philosophic thoughts; its spiritual
struggles and experiences. And if these qualities are set aside,
where is the warrant of equitable judgment? Both men were
exceptional. In the lives of each the scattered and imperfect
'(ualities of their age were gathered in dominant assembly.
Both left a record of their personality on art : the one, spir-
itual strength, and convictions with immortality; the othtr,
sensual impressions, shallowness wiih oblivion. One was ali^e
to the beauty of religion ; the other, to the religion of beauty.
Alone, neither of them typifies the age ; together, they exag-
gerate it.

Artistic skill and ribald ruffianism did not make the sum

Cellini and His memoirs.

[Oct.

of Italy's endeavors ; nor was she saintly. Factions repudiated
Savonarola ; but that did not mark the age as one of bandits,
bullies, and adventurers. If it were not sacrilegious, place be-
side the unthinking and unfeeling Perseus • of Cellini that
marvellous Pietiif of Buonarrotti. And, when the vast spiritual
difTerence flashes on the intellect, ask yourself which of the
two expressions was buried deeper in the Italian heart. The
bel corpo alone was not sufficient for humanity ; the intense in- I
spi ration of Angelo touched a tenderer and more constant
chord. Between these two e.\tremes ; between soulless animal-
ism and the serene, resplendent heights of faith, the heart of
the people swayed in balance. Catholic Italy never wholly
abandoned the things that were of God. Cellini, however, was
without a rag of honor — a freebooter in art as well as in
inorals.

Binvenuto Cellini, son of Giovanni d'Andrea di Cristoforo
Cellini and Maria Lisabetta di StefTano Granocci, was born All
Souls' Day, 15004 Among his ancestors were many famous
men. One of them a certain Luca Cellini — a giovane senza
barba — overcame the noted Francesco da Vicorati in a duel.
This event Benvenuto relates with evident gusto. According
to him it was a marvel to the whole world, and he prides him-
self in his descent from such valorous men.\^ He was early
acquainted with imagination, as the stories of the scorpion and
salamander prove. (| These intense and questionable scenes are
vivid settings for Benvenuto the hero, whose life was miracu-
lous from the circumstances of his birth to the close of his
narrative. Marriage seems to have cured him in some degree,
for after that event he had neither heart nor time to complete J
his diary. ^

That you may know his sire was not of common clay,
Cellini tells of the wonderful organs and musical instruments ■
his father made ; and of the latter's skill in working ivory.^
The dominant paternal wish was that Benvenuto would become
a great musician — un gran sonatore. It is somewhat pitiful to
read with what constancy the father cherished this desire.
When the parent was advised by Soderino Gonfaloniere to

• M.irijuatid'% History of Scuiflwre, p. 215. J Rtnaiaanct im /taiy, Symonds, p. 285.

} Pago 4 of hi& Memoirs. ^ " liimi gloriu d'uvcr lo scendcnti mio da iioinini valorosi."

II Page 9 Memoirs.
U " Lavorara miracolosamcnle d'nvorio e fu il primo dc Invorasse bem- in tal arte."

«903.]

Cellini and His Memoirs.

teach Benvenuto the other arts, Giovanni replied: "I would
have him learn no other art except that of playing and com-
posing." And he added : " God willing, I shall make of him
the first man of the world." • Cellini, however, considered
flute-playing an art troppo vile — in comparison with goldsmith-
ing, whose rudiments he first learned in the shop of Baccio
Bandinello.f The yoting apprentice, it seems, tried hard to
please his father by now and then playing the flute ; usually
with such skill that the fond parent was moved to deep sighs
and tears — le lagrime con gran sospiri.

It would be tedious to relate the countless brawls and pur-
suits of vengeance ; the marvellous encounters and escapes that
^^K are compounded in the pages of Cellini's diary. Yet, if we are
^^V to believe him, he has but indicated the mere outlines of his
H ultra-active life.J He never regarded life with naked eyes;
I but through a lens of acute imagination. This quality waxed
I in capability up to, and perhaps beyond, the age of fifty-eight,
I at which time Cellini began his Memoirs. It is natural to find
I facts distorted, and erroneous causes set forth. The mould of

■ reality was disordered by heroic projections and grotesque lines.
I There is more or less caricature and parody in the scenes he

■ so vividly presents. Age, which in most men of normal tem-

■ peramant rectifies and adjusts the visions of youth, seems to
I have laid its cautious finger neither on the hand nor heart of
\ Cellini. As a consequence he was never sure of himself, and

became a reed for every wind of fancy to pipe upon. That
scene or circumstance wherein he could not possibly pose as
hero, is passed with chilling brevity. His vanity was inordi-
nate; which accounts for the daring complacency with which
he left his autobiography as witness to his character.

Even in his sixteenth year Cellini, from his own recital,
was an awe-compelling and valorous person. At this age, sin-
gle-handed and with great courage, he rescued a younger
brother from a crowd of stone-throwers. After this affray we
find him in Bologna, whither he was sent by favor of the Car-
dinal de' Medici (afterward Pope Clement VII.) Regarding
his labors with the flute at this period, he writes : " I made

* " Se Dio gti dArA riu i! pritno uomo del niondo io s|>ero di farlo."

tTliU m:in was con&itlcrcd Ihc neoresl riv;il to Buunarroti; he was made eavallere by

P.-.f.- (:!.-iiKfir VII.

: ■• Sc io voIei»t dcscriveie Ic gran co!>e die e mi venne faito Infino a questn eta, e i gran

(u-ricoU delta propriii vita farei muravigli.ire chi tal cu» leggcrc,"

AND His M^atc

[Oct.

great advance in this maladetto sonare, but a greater progress
in the art of goldsmithing." He was never reconciled to the
flute, for when in Pisa he wrote that he was in a sort of
human paradise — " dove io nen sonai mat." • After his father's
death, Benvenuto never mentions flute-playing.

In the countless homicidal quarrels and brawls Cellini puts
himself forward as the aggrieved party. He is conscious of no
violent temper or obstinate will. Whensoever justice leaped
upon him it did so sfttca un perchc al mondo. He was firmly
convinced of his physical powers and superior morality —
powers that were sustained by a hidden coat of mail and a
challenging blade of steel ; a morality that allowed him to speak
with delight about his persistent and successful vendettas, stabs
in the dark, mean revenges, cruelty and spite. He considered
himself his own authority in morals; justified every act of his
life, enjoyed his answers to pope and prince — and his midnight
assassinations. He could tolerate no opposition to himself, no
criticism of his deeds. His affrays, in large part, were born of
a false honor, though he says he was moved by a collera gran-
dissima. By no allowance of charity can he be made a giovane
molto virtuoso — words he put into the mouth of the Prinzivalle
who defended him before the Eight Signori for his attack on
the Guasconti.f

In Florence, Cellini's reputation was not savory. Whatever
punishment he received tn the course of his stay there was the
result not of politics, envy, nor prejudice, but of justice. In
Rome, also, his imprisonments were not without good cause.
Justice was not asleep at this age, despite countless assertions
to the contrary. Rome was always firm, and nearly always
just in its punishments. Cellini, in making a martyr of himself,
has naturally painted the whole social fabric of his time in the
most violent lights and shadows. He tells us that, after his
release from the dungeons of San Angelo, a halo played above
his head. He regarded it as a sign of his sanctity, and as a
rebuke to the cardinals and the pope. Of the latter he is
never sure. At one time he considers the Vicar of Christ as
an " awful representation of Divine Majesty," at another as a
"pessima bestia." Confusion rose in his mind regarding every
subject but his art. And in everything but his art there is

*Se<; page 38 Memoirs.

t This was his first homicidal affray. He excused his blow by s.ij-ing lliat it was nothing
but a box on the ears. " E non gli ho dato altro che un.i ceffata." See page 43 Memoirs.

I903-]

Cellini and His memoirs.

^19

I contradiction. He has bared his character to public scrutiny in
I the work of his hand. And the confession is a lamentable one.
p Cellini's skill in the art of goldsmithing received early re-

cognition at the court in Rome. By indefatigable will and
perseverance he attained success in the art of enamelling, in the
making of medals, and of pad. The highest ecclesiastical and
lay personages employed him to fashion jewels, ornaments, and
services of plate. It was during this period of his life that
Rome was carried by assault, and the Papal court besieged in the
casdc of San Angelo. Despite his extravagant self- praise, there
is DO doubt that Cellini gave a good account of himself in
defence of Pope Clement. When Rome had settled again into
the ways of peace, Cellini returned to Florence to find that his
father had died of the plague. A brother and sister survived.
This brother, Cecchino, was afterward killed by a musketeer in
RoRie, and was avenged by Benvenuto in short order. The
affray caused Cellini to seek the protection of the Duke of
Civita di Pcnna. This put a stop to his work on the crown
jewels, so that the whole matter was brought to the ears of
Pope Clement. At this point in his memoirs Cellini makes
_ the pope say : " Now that you have regained your health,
I Benvenuto, have a care of yourself." And on the strength of
I this, Symonds remarks : " This shows how little they thought
I of homicide in Rome " — a statement at once insinuating and
■ unjust. This tart fling at Papal conscience is given solely on
the authority of Cellini^ who was, as Symonds himself admits,
* braggart shorn of all respect and virtue. This same writer
(Symonds) explains that " after killing a man some powerful
protector had to be sought, who was usually a cardinal, since
the cardinals had right of sanctuary in their palaces. There
the assassin lay in hiding in order to avoid his victim's friends
And relatives, until such time as a pardon and safe- conduct and
absolution had been obtained from his holiness." The student
is here forced upon several strange conclusions : Among them
(() that the cardinals were a body of men given to the harbor-
ing of vicious criminals. (2) That such protection was sufficient
to quiet the vengence of the victim's friends and relatives. (3)
That the pope was in the habit of freely pardoning these crimes
Against society, issuing cards of safe- conduct to assassins, and,
strangest of all, granting absolution as a matter of form and
favor, Cellini himself would never admit these statements.

Cellini and His Memofi

[Oct.

Their texture and purpose are evident. They belong to that
school of criticism wherein prejudice has played such havoc
wfth the church and state of the sixteenth century. There is
something boyish in a process that Judges a people by the
escapades and sentiments of an exceptionally passionate in-
dividual. Such writers have not learned to shut their lips
against the hot, escaping thoughts of intolerance. The truth of
the matter is that the respite of a cardinal's protection, far from
softening the bitterness of a victim's friends, served to inflame
and strengthen the nip of revenge. That the blaze of politics
had lured one or two ecclesiastics into doubtful situations is by
no means proofward to the alleged perverseness of the entire
cardinalate. These errors with their wide marginal logic have
been successfully challenged of late. The intimation that
absolution was sought and obtained on political or material
grounds is wanton in the extreme. Like the question of in-
dulgence it is sadiy misunderstood. If the age was so degener-
ate, how, in the name of clearness, could morality figure in
political preferment? Symonds is forced to admit that in this
age there existed a "hierarchy of able and God-fearing men,
whoj by the sanctity of their lives, by the gravity of their
doctrine, by the eloquence of their preaching, by their ministra-
tions to the sick, by the relief oi the poor, by the maintenance
of hospitals, Monti di Pieta, schools and orphanages, kept alive in
the people of Italy the ideal at least of a religion pure and un-
dcfiled before God." Why then all this pother about degen-
eracy of church and state? Are a few rogues the measure of
a commonwealth, or human frailty beyond the hope of an
ecclesiastic ? Hetwccn the sanctified brow and the feet of clay,
human passions will rise and fall, and human destinies be be-
gotten.

Shortly after his affair with the musketeer, Cellini stabbed
to death Pompeo — his private enemy. We are told that "two
cardinals disputed the privilege of harboring so talented a
criminal." The authority for this statement is Cellini himself ;
but since he is not to be trusted, the assertion lacks weight.
It is more than likely that Cellini used the words to illumine
his pose as a prodijjy of valor and importance. He was wont
to say that lie Imd a facility of making friends for himself who
would Hland hy liliti at all odds.* And into the mouth of a

* an«rtuiiii i)i \\\9\\vx In \ Itii Ion) |icr ^alvanone delta vita mini.

TEMOIRS,

I
I

cardinal he once put these words: "Seek diligently for my
Binvcnuto, and bring him here, because I wish to help and
defend him." And he adds with a strut: " Echi fara contra a
di lot, fara contro a di me." Once again he is before the
footlights.

Pope Clement VII. having died, Paul III. was elected to the
Pipal chair. The new pope is said to have sent Cellini a " safe-
conduct" and a pardon. A friend of Pompeo demurred from
such a procedure, and once again Cellini turns attention to him-
self by putting these impossible words into the mouth of the
pope: "I would have you understand that men who are
famous in their profession, like Benvenuto, are not subject to
the laws." So, in the length and breadth of Italy, there was
one man free from moral sanctions — and that "man Cellini.
His boastful words are clearly understood when it is recalled
that artists greater and more necessary than he were not so
immune. Much, indeed, seems to have been granted an illus-
trious worker in the arts; but oversight of thievery and murder
was not of it. The claim that the laws at this period (1534)
were a mere hrutiim fulmin, is not confirmed by recent research.
Cellini makes a mock of all justly constituted tribunals; laughs
justice to scorn ; puts himself above the law, and subverts
equity to the findings of his own will. Such might any indivi-
dual do in this day ; but it would not qualify our age as one
wherein moral authority was no longer recognized or appealed
to. Historical criticism has been too often warped by the heat
of a first and surface reading. The fog of prejudice and in-
tolerance has made impossible that clear and calm convention
of thoughts so much needed in critical judgments. Church and
state, priest and prince, have each suffered irreparable set-backs
by the ardent but misdirected scrutiny of so-called criticism.
A lamentable arrearage of truth marks the pen-tracks of much
historical comment. This can be answered ; but when the pro-
paganda is carried into the class-rooms of universities and given
voice through professorial utterance, here, indeed, we are at a
strong disadvantage. And Cellini's is the doctrine they teach.
In 1537 Cellini, having quarrelled with the pope, went to
France. On his return to Rome he was arrested and cast into
prison, charged with having stolen gold and jewels to the
amount of nearly eighty thousand ducats. It was probably a
very dramatic moment for Benvenuto when the captain of

CELLINT and his MEAfOIRS.

police — Crespino^ — hailed him and said : " Tu sei prigione del
Papa!"* Cellini consoled himself with the belief that he was
to be imprisoned unjustly. He was in no way angry at the
charge of theft ; at least so he writes. He simply laughed
at it. Theft ! why, my dear readers, that was quite beneath
such a virtuous man and marvellous artist. He forgot that he
had but recently confessed to having stolen a portion of the
gold filings found in the brazier after he had melted down the
crown jewels. In his defence before the governor he set forth
on a sea of words to show that he was a marvel in art ; a
dangerous opponent in arms, and a loyal subject of the pope.
He enumerated his manly virtues with a nip and gusto that
were admirable but fruitless. He was consigned to the castle
of San Angelo, whose walls he had helped defend ten years
before When sentence was passed, Cellini called heaven and
earth to witness his great joy that he was to be imprisoned
" not for any fault of his sinful nature, as generally falls to the
lot of young men." The governor here remarked: "But you
have kilted enough men in your time." To which Cellini burst
out^" Voi lo dite, e non io."t He regarded his assassinations
as chance disturbances. In the pages of his Memoirs he ex-
plains thus: "In the course of this history I must sometimes
lose sight of my profession to record some unlucky accidents
by which this toilsome life of mine has been occasionally em-
bittered."

It was one of his principles never to tempt fortune
farther than honor required. The story of his imprisonment
is intensely interesting, especially that part where the crazy
governor imagines himself a bat, and explains to Cellini that
he might never hope to escape his night-eyes. Cellini, how-
ever, eluded the pipistrello da dovero, and one evening took
flight over the walls. This attempt cost him a broken leg.
He was retaken and sent back to a dungeon and rigorously
treated by the outraged governor. In this damp, crawling cell,
Cellini the bravo becomes a temporary saint. He tells of his
devotion to the Bible, and draws comparisons of himself and
his cause with all the martyrs of history. He sang and he
prayed. He composed a madrigal beginning —

•This was in 1338. See Memoirs, page 367,

t He goes on to explain : " Se uno venissi per amanozior voi : voi defendercsti, e aramai-
Eando lul !c sante legge ve lo comporterbbono."'

1905.]

Cellini ani

*' Afflitti spiriti miei
Oime crudei, che vi rincresce vita!"

Once, indeed, he thought of suicide; but was prevented from
such a disgrace by some powerful, invisible hand. Henceforth
he says his cell was a rendezvous for celestial visitors, who
healed his wounded leg and disputed with him on religion.
Here, in the darkness and silence, he had visions of marvellous
grandeur,* and inspirations of greatest import. He became
convinced of his virtue and merit, and felt sure of speedy relief
and liberty. In 1539, at the request of Francis I., the prison
doors were opened and Cellini stepped forth a free man ; but
marked for life since, as he says, a halo clung above his head
for the rest of his days. This, however, did not cause any
change in, or serious thought about, his actions. In a short
time he was in the midst of violence and pleasures. The
visionary was once more the vengeful bravo. He made a vir-
tue of necessity. While under the thumb of the law, he was an
admirer of " la bella virtu " ; under the blue and liberal sky he
was a blind pursuer of i bruti visi.

On his release from the castle of San Angelo, Cellini joined
the court of Francis I., who was then travelling from city to
city in great pageantry and pomp.f Hardships were not want-
ing. Not every town could lodge the king and his courtiers.
Cellini felt the lack of attention and comfort ; he complains
bitterly of it in his Memoirs. All foreigners became for him
Quti diavoli, whom he despised with bitterness and reproach.
The king finally settled in Paris. He made a gift to Cellini in
the shape of the castle of La Petit Nesle. Here the Florentine
labored for his royal patron with great fervor — producing can-
delabra, figures of bronze, table ornaments ; and repaired the
gates of the chateau of Fontainebleau. During this period Cel-
lini's life was far from tranquil. The very castle given him by
the king he was forced to retain by violence. Troubles gath-
ered around him in squadrons. His quick temper was out of
place among the Frenchmen. He made enemies among the
influential women of the court by his overbearing ways and in-
solence, There was not a trace of policy in his makeup ; pride
was dominant, hence the quarrels and lawsuits, and the neces-

* Sire his acc-rmni of how he behetd the sun shining in the blue heavens, and of his visions
n( ih«! Madonna nnd Child. *

t His rttintle consistcil of eighteen (tioutond persons and twelve thousand horses.

CELLINI AND HIS MEMOIRS.

[Oct.

sity of going armed and in mail. The ceaseless hate of Madame
d'Estampes, and a senseless grudge against the Cardinal Ippo-
lito d'Este, at last drove Cellini back to Italy. He lodged in
Florence. Here, under Cosirao de' Medici, he was driven into
a still more furious pace. In Paris the open purse and boyish
heart of Francis were his. Cosimo de' Medici was of a differ-
ent mould; and Cellini more than once regretted his return to
Florence. ■

It was during this period that the Perseus was cast
in bronze and set in the Loggia de' Lanzi with triumphal
honors. Cellini considered this work his masterpiece ; in it he
believed his expectations were fully realized. The best that
can be said of it is that the statue represents a high degree of
technical excellence. It lacks all the other qualities of true
monumental design and sculpture. The spirit of the miniatur-
ist is visible in the conventions of its ornaments and lines.
Even in art Cellini was exposing his irascible temper, and
something of the virtuoso rather than real, artistic emotion. A
natural and skilful technician, Cellini never had capacity for
great ideas. He carried the work of his art to questionable
limits \ at times he seems to have forgotten its natural bounds.
Thus the persistent and ungoverned parade of his passions finds
some reflection in the mad extravagance seen in the product of
his toil. Six years after the casting of the Perseus, Cellini
married. His diary ends abruptly ; from what cause is un-
known. He died at the age of sixty- nine. One of the most
energetic workers in the field of his art ; a bold and formida-
ble character; dull of conscience and gratitude, virtueless and
cynical ; intensely vain and sensitive ; a recorder of coarse
deeds and sentiments; vengeful and forgetful, Cellini stands as
one of the most interesting products of the Renaissance. A
fellow that in our day we would not care to brush against in _
a passageway at night, nor argue with at day. f

In Cellini the man is more interesting than the artist ; in
studying him as such, the reader should bear in mind that he
represents one extreme of society — the craftsman. In him, how-
ever, conscience was seldom awakened. Even in his noisome
dungeon of San Angelo no expression of sorrow for his crimes
escapes him. If he ever felt remorse, he has carefully concealed
its memory. Through the whole of his autobiography he struts,
hand on hilt, quick to take offence, with no charity in his

1903.

Cellint and Mrs Memoirs.

heart; mouthing what is to us of the north intolerable self-
praise, and boasting deeds of violence and shame. This is the
man of whom Symonds wrote: "That he was a devout Catho-
lic there is no question." The proof for this is given thus:
"He (Cellini) made two pilgrimages to Loretto, and another to
St. Francis of Vernia. To St. Lucy he dedicated a golden eye
after his recovery from an illness. He was, moreover, always
anxious to get absolution from the Pope." And again: "He
made passionate appeals to God." A sorry spectacle of active
Catholicism, and one grossly false. Faith and morals in Italy
were not comprised in pilgrimages alone. Absolution was not
so sadly misunderstood by the people ; the poorest contadino
had the doctrine of amendment clear in his mind and stirring in
his heart. To cry " Lord ! Lord ! " is pledge of no man's con-
riction or piofession of creed. Cellini was not even a good
Italian, for he never remembered his vows except in great dan-
gers to his person or projects. His heart answered readily
enough the spur of material gain ; of the spiritual nature of his
age he was impoverished. He grovelled in the dust when ad-
versity stalked his shadow, and he reached to absurd heights
when prosperous. There is much arrant nonsense written about
bts "liberty " of conscience, life, and intellect. It was the licen-
tious use of these that made him the being he was. Catholic
Italy was never the idolatrous nation that some writers would
have the student believe. That there was at this period a com-
plete separation between religion and morality is a statement
not only irrational but impossible.

The religious phase of Cellini's life requires more notice
than can properly be given here. To understand it clearly
would necessitate an exposition of the moral status of church
and state, and the prevalent ideas of the onore and onesta
of the period, The student will do well to remember that
while the worldliness of the Renaissance partly blinded men
to their spiritual interests, yet as a whole the nation stood
well together on the vital issues of the moral law. For three
centuries Italy had been given over to the study of theo-
logy, philosophy, art. and the science of government. The
heritage of such pursuits left an indelible mark on national
character, and quite forbids the charge that the age was one
of Ishmaelites* and darkness, priestly tyranny and sensualism.
It is a favorite claim with certain writers that " naked sincerity

Cellini and His Memoirs,

[Oc==^

means truth " — and in the light of these words they extend wt- -^
complacency the sentiments of a Machiavelli or a Guicciardi
as unanswerable evidence of the corruption of the Papacy anC^
clergy ; of the state and its society ; of laws and justice. \V^^^
hear that the "Church of Rome" "interposed a veil betwee
the human soul and God." Priests are charged with having
exercised some secret tyranny over the souls of men. In th^
heat of prejudice we hear the rattle of such phrases as " th^
cowled and cloistered fools " ; we have it shouted at us thaC:
the corruption of the Papal court involved a corresponding"
moral weakness throughout Italy ; that the example of Romer
was a justification of fraud, violence, and ungodliness to the
whole nation. These words are drawn in large part from the
works of Machiavelli, who claims that Italy lost all piety and
all religion owing to the example of the Papal court. Once in
his History of Florence he says that the Papacy was the cause
of the moral depravation and political disunion of Italy.* A
few pages afterward he faces squarely about and says it was all
the result of the natural enmity that existed between the no-
bility and the common people. Such friction, he says, is the
seed of all disturbances in the Republicf After preaching that
might makes right, and that to the victor belongs the spoils, he
complains that laws are made not for common utility but for
the benefit of the reigning power.J Costretto da necessita is his
favorite phrase. He was never conscious of his own faults,
Guicclardini, likewise, who so bitterly attacked the temporal
power and the Papacy, was, from evidence of his own writings,
little better than a theoretical egotist. Neither of these men,
whose words are often quoted in connection with Cellini, could
keep their own honor clean and fragrant. To fashion political
pamphlets was one thing; to act their propositions quite an-
other. Neither of them had energy. Christianity could not do
the work of politics ; therefore away with it 1 These men con-
fused its spiritual functions with material duties of worldly gov-
ernment. They never at any point of their discourse gave inti-
mations of their belief in the need of moral rectitude. They
never had an innate sense of the fear of God or his ultimate
sanctions at the root of their political convictions.

*" Diniodo che tuite le ^crrc che dopo quest! tempi furono doi barbari fatte in ItamS
furoDO in maggior parte dai Pontefici causati," p. 36, tttori* Fiorentine, MachiaveUi.
t Sec page X14 Istorit Fiortntint, chapter i. % Ibid., p. 115.

1903-

: ELLIN I AND HIS MEMOIRS.

To turn from such perfervid writings to the romantic lines
of Cellini is to regard the latter as almost truth. And yet one
of his own countrymen says of him; "He (Cellini) depicted
hiaiself as he felt himself to be — that is, animated as a French
gendarm- ; vindictive as a viper ; superstitious in the highest
degree, and full of whims and fancies — a gallant among his
fr;ends. but little susceptible of tender friendship ; lascivious
rather than chaste ; somewhat of a traitor without suspecting
himself as such ; jealous and malignant, a disturber of the
peace; vain without believing it ; void of affection, with a por-
tion of talent not mediocre; accompanied by a firm faith in his
wonderful wisdom, circumspection, and prudence." The pleas-
ure of reading his diary is largely due to the style of its writ-
ing, which is generally clear — " non e fatta a studia" — but dic-
tated under the stress of swift and ardent fancy. Baretti likens
the joy we receive in reading his memoirs to that we expe-
rience in beholding at a safe distance some beautiful but des-
perate animal. Cellini's motto in part was " O vivo fuggo, O
morto preso," words he cast into the teeth of the captain of
police. When left to his own defence he cries out, " Mediante
Iddio, ni ajutero ben da me." The furthest he ever got in his
affection was an amoroso sospiro. From the night of All Souls'
Day to the hour when he was borne to the chapter-house of
the Annunziata, his life was one prolonged disturbance. He
loved an atmosphere of intrigue and animosity.* He was al-
ways atr odds with patrons and fellow-workers.

Of his truly marvellous tales, Antonio Cocchi says : t " Real-
mente non furono altro che sogni o illusioni d'un offesa fan-
tasia." As a definite hint regarding his innumerable affrays,
Cellini puts these words into the mouth of a certain character : %
"Though 1 have known you (Cellini) so many years, I never
knew you in the wrong with regard to any quarrel."

With all the wealth of his imagination, Cellini, neither in art
nor in life, ever rose above the level of the senses. He represents
clearly that ultra-individualism of the si.xteenth century, whose
purpose wa? to magnify the personal rights and liberties of the
man himself; so that he was no longer restrained by obligations
to a moral or civil law. Energetic aud eccentric, Cellini also

• Sec dccouui of his life m France.

t .'>»-c Cocthl's preface to Carijani's cdiiion of 1806.

{ !5«v>liiqua, the cxpcfC swordsman, whose services. Cflliin re»:itn<.'<i in his Jiii-l «iih Ri«nzo

VOL. LXXVIII. — 5

Cellini and his memoirs.

[Oct.,

stands for what that age regarded as admirable — the so-called
virtu of Mdchiavelli ; which in itself was a false transposition of
the Greek ideal to kalon. Because of his restlessness, Cellini
never felt, nor cared for, the constraining peace of domestic
ties and duties. He was never a loiterer in thought or act.
He preferred the province of Bohemia — that land of surprise
aiid fickleness. Here, untempered and alone, he travelled
through the heat and dust of an exciting day ; a firm believer
in a Deity that helped those who helped themselves ; conscious
of a memorable virtue and unbounded strength ; at home with
a knife in the dark or a chisel at dawn. Somewhat of a
cavalier, he passes down the highways of history at odds with
man and law; a dare on his lips; a challenging swing to his
arms, a fascinating but graceless bravo.

t<L

-•^.xFfc-

-:^^^-
^^i-

1^?

*'^^--\

'i -^

1903.] Canterbury. 67

CANTERBURY.

BY ELLIS SCHREIBER. •

'HEN, in the early part of the year 597, St.
Augustine with his band of forty monks reached
the British shores, commissioned by Pope Gre-
gory I. to rekindle in Britain the light of the
Gospel, which had been almost entirely extin-
guished by the barbarous Angles and Saxons, merciless foes of
Christianity, Canterbury was the royal residence of Ethelbert, a
monarch of power and ability, who reigned in Kent. Thiiher
the missionaries wended their way, and solicited an interview
with the king. He was not wholly unacquainted with the
ecclesiastical character and functions of Augustine, for he had
married Bertha, sister to Charibert, King of Paris, and she had
been accompanied to England by a Prankish bishop. With
her husband's permission she had caused the ruined church of
St Munin, near Canterbury, to be fitted up for divine service.
Etlielbert received the strangers kindly ; he assured them of
his protection, promised to supply their wants, and gave thim
iberty to preach to his subjects. And subsequently, when
Augustine returned to England after receiving episcopal ccn:e-
cration, the king gave him a palace at Canterbury, with per-
mission to build a church, and he gave him lands for the
maintenance of its ministers. Close to the palace was an old
church, erected in the time of the Romans but since dese-
crated. This Augustine restored and enlarged, dedicating it to
" the Holy Saviour Jesus Christ." On its site the cathedral
now stands. The present edifice, although very ancient in
parts, is of a date long subsequent to the age of Augustine; it
was rebuilt by Lanfranc in the eleventh century, after the
original structure had been destroyed by fire. During the fol-
lowing centuries up to our own day, Canterbury has continued
to be the archiepiscopal seat of the Primate of all England.

With this ancient city many of the greatest names and
many critical events of English history have been in some way
connected; of that history it still retains unique memorials,

,ANTERBURY.

)ct..

and even of what it has lost the traces have not wholly faded
away. The traveller who approaches the city from the west
meets, in its immediate vicinity, one of these memorials: a
clear spring which in former times possessed healing virtues of
a miraculous nature, and is still believed by the country folks
to be beneficial for the eyes. It is yet known by the name of
the Black Prince's Well, from an old tradition that the hero
of Crecy and Poitiers drank of its waters when he visited
Canterbury in ijiS/. Only three days after his return from
France he went, accompanied by his royal prisoner King John,
to give thanks for his victories at St. Thomas's shrine ; after-
wards he founded and decorated the beautiful chantry in the
cathedral crypt which bears his name. Legend says that when
he lay dying of the wasting disease which carried htm ofT in
the flower of his age, he thought of the wonder-working spring
near Canterbury, and sent for a draught of its pure water.
But that did not save him, and soon after he was borne to the
tomb he had chosen for himself in the chapel of Our Lady of
the Undercroft in the crypt of Canterbury Cathedral, his favor-
ite shrine, which he enriched with splendid gifts. However,
the people would not allow their hero to be buried out of
sight in the dark crypt; so they brought him to rest by the
great saint's shrine, where all men could see his effigy of gilded
bronze as he lay there, his sword by his side, his hands clasped
in prayer, and at his feet the pathetic lines bidding the pass
ing stranger pray for his soul :

•' Pur Dieu priez au c^Iestien Roy,
Que mercy ait de I'ame de moy."

His wa3 the first tomb raised in the precincts of the mar-
tyr's shrine, and it remains there to this day, unhurt by the
hand of time or the more cruel violence of man, Over it still
hang the surcoat, gloves, shield, and scabbard of the prince,
those probably which were carried before his remains in his
funeraJ procession.

From Harbledown, where the spring rises, the first, perhaps
the best, view of the cathedral is obtained. Deep was the im- ,
pression made upon the pilgrim bands when they caught sight
of its lofty towers, when they saw the glittering angel that in
bygone days stood on the central tower. Erasmus, the cold
and critical scholar, becomes eloquent as he describes the

'903]

CANTERBURY.

The SrotK Wlnds Its Way Thkoigii the Heakt ui itik Ciiv.

architectural beauty of the great church rearing itself up into
the sky with a majesty that strikes awe into every heart, and
e\'okes a cry of admiration from the lips of all. Behind it lies
a background of fertile hills, clothed in autumn with the dark
green of numerous hop- gardens; before it stand the massive
round towers of the Westgate, the only one remaining of the
seven fortified gateways which once guarded the ancient city.
Through this, which is considered the finest city gate yet ex-

I
I

in t'2n|{Und. \vc pass into the principal street. Many are
^^ fUfirtmu who in olden times entered Canterbury by this
5 kin|{s «nd queens, foreign emperors and princes, armed
ht* and learned scholars; newly-created archbishops fol-
i\ by R brilliant train of bishops, clergy, and courtiers, on
i^y to be enthroned in the chair of St. Augustine; not
of the multitudes of simpler folk who flocked to wor-
#Hfj»~Rt Thomas a Becket's shrine. The poet Chaucer sings of
|he merry cavalcade that rode forth in the freshness of the
lliorntng from famous London town ; knight and merchant,
scholar and lawyer, Prioress and Wife of Bath, yeoman, priest,
^nd friar, a motley company from all parts of the realm, to
«• wcnden on their pilgrimage with full devout courage."

Since those mediaeval days Canterbury has seen many
changes. The sight-seer has taken the place of the pious pil-
grim; the Holy Sacrifice is no longer offered in the grand
cathedral; its riches have become the prey of the spoiler; the
countless number of churches has been reduced, and their mag-
nificence no longer strikes the eye of the stranger. The great
cross is gone from over the Westgate ; the lofty walls and
watch-towers which encircled the city in a complete ring when
Chaucer's knight, after paying his devotions at the martyr's
shrine, went out to inspect their strength and " pointed to his
son both the perill and the doubt," are all gone, and the Con-
queror's mighty castle is turned into a coal-pit. Yet the old
city is full of quaint bits and picturesque corners, timbered
houses with carved corbels and oriel windows, hoslelries with
overhanging eaves and fantastic signboards of wrought-iron
work, hospitals whose charters date from Norman limes, and
whose records afford many a curious glimpse of the byways of
mediieval life As we draw near to St. Thomas's shrine memor-
ies of the murdered saint crowd upon the mind. A little way
up the main street we reach a bridge over the river Stour,
which winds its way through the heart of the city, the houses
rising up straight from its slowly flowing waters, where a low-
pointed doorway un the right leads into St. Thomas's hospital,
founded, as a fourteenth century charter records, by him to
receive poor wayfaring men. Ten poor brothers and sisters
still enjoy the fruit of the saint's benevolence, and dwell in
the old house built on arches across the bed of the river.
The lev level of the floor, which has sunk far below that of

1903.] Canterbury.

ihe street; the vaulted roof and time-worn pillars bear witness
to its great antiquity. An interesting wall painting was dis-
covered here a few years ago ; unfortunately it was partially
destroyed by workmen before its value was understood. It
represents our Lord in glory in the centre ; underneath is the
List Supper; to the rigKt the murder of St. Thomas; to the
left Henry II. 's penance at the martyr's tomb. During the
days when the enthusiasm for St. Thomas was at its height
alms and legacies were showered upon this hospice, where beds
for poor pilgrims were provided.

The most renowned of the hostelries was the " Chequers of
the Hope," where Chaucer's pilgrims took up their quarters.
This ancient inn was destroyed by fire in 1865. It stood at
the comer of Mercery Lane, still one of the most picturesque
Jtreets in Canterbury. It offends all modern laws of street
architecture ; it is narrow, crooked, dark, and the houses in
the upper story project almost to the proverbial proximity
4t which they were constructed in days of yore, when we are
told it was possible to shake hands from the upper windows
across the street. Happily the spirit of municipal improvement
has not yet touched the time honored walls. This lane, uhich
leads to the cathedral, was formerly lined with booths and
stalls for the sale of pilgrimage souvenirs, such as are still
found in the neighborhood of all famous shrines on the Conti-
nent of Europe. Brooches bearing the effigy of the saint's
mitred head were eagerly purchased ; also ampulIcB, small
leaden bottles, containing water from a miraculous spring in
the precincts, which welled up on the spot where the martyr's
blood fell.

The precincts are entered through Christ Church gateway,
a splendid specimen of perpendicular architecture, once the
entrance to the cemetery, though doubtless the common ap-
proach to the cathedral. The front is sadly worn and defaced
by the hand of time, yet it is more beautiful in its decay than
the newest " restoration." On the stone bench within one
may sometimes see at night that functionary of bygone days,
a watchman who still calls the hours of the night, and informs
the dwellers in the precincts of the state of the weather.
Passing through this gateway, the visitor stands in full view of
the great cathedral. Erasmus, familiar as he was with the
magnificence of Continental churches, was struck with the im-

The Fauous Christ-Gate op Cantbrbuhv.

posing effect of the cathedral when seen for the first time. H|
beheld it in its full glory, before its spoliation in the sixteenth
century; he saw the stone canopies and sculptured images of
the portal all perfect, the traceries and mouldings of the win-
dows, the glorious towers in their pristine beauty and ele-
gance; "Bell Harry Steeple/' as the central tower is called
to-day,* formerly the "Angel Steeple," unmatched in strength

• The central lower is 335 feet in height.

1903]

Canterbury.

and height and elegance ; beside it the ancient Norman tower
which bore the name of Ethelbert. The central tower was not
completed until 1495. although the greater part of the edifice
was rebuilt in the twelfth century. The nave is cruciform, and
in its ground plan is probably the earliest part. There stood
the Saxon church of Augustine and Anselm, and probably its
Roman predecessor. The present walls, to the height of some
four feet from the ground, are the actual walls of the Norman
church erected by Archbishop Lanfranc, in the days of William
the Conqueror, and enlarged by his successor, Anselm.

It is in the interior of this ancient structure that the hand

of the despoiler has wrought the worst havoc. The description
given by one who visited it shortly before the ecclesiastical
ornaments and rich treasures were removed to replenish the
exchequer of an adulterous monarch, or destroyed by the re-
ligious fanatic to make room for a changed form of worship,
gives us some idea of- its ancient glory, "filling all hearts with
joy and wonder." Chapels and chantries lined the vast and
lofty nave ; altars glittered with lighted tapers and gold and
silver ornaments; roof and walls were bright with painting and
gilding or decked with silken tapestry, and carved images covered
with jewels ; stained windows, bright with colors unequalled in
modern times, casting hues of ruby and sapphire across the
floor and lighting up the clouds of incense as they rose hea-
venward, — all this and much more met the admiring view of
the mediaeval pilgrim ; not to mention the shrine of St.
Thomas, embossed with gems, glittering with countless jewels
that flashed and sparkled in the light. Those priceless gems
were soon to be confiscated by the royal emissaries, the glori-
ous shrine to be destroyed, and only the broken pavement and
the marks of the pilgrims' feet in the stone floor left to show
to future generations the spot hallowed by the prayer and
worship of ages.

Now the spacious nave • and aisles are bare, save for some
monuments affixed to the walls, memorials of statesmen and
widiers of more recent times, who have given their lives, not
in defence of the faith of Christ but for the spread of an
empire on which, it is proudly boasted, the sun never sets.
The great west window alone, as- the day departs, throws a

'The nax'C is 187 (cet in length .ind 79 in height.

The total length of tlic cathedral in-

Canti

[Oct.

ray of colored light across the floor, for it is filled with frag-
ments taken from the clerestory of the choir. A lofty flight
of steps leads up to the choir, which is shut off from the nave
by a stone screen of elaborate Gothic work. In old days thefl
rood with its sacred figures was raised on high there, and in
front stood the altar of the Holy Rood. In the floor were
procession stones, let in to mark the places of the great dig-
nitaries of the church in solemn ceremonies. Around and be-H
hind the choir are chantries and chapels from which the altars
are gone, but in which are numerous tombs — more or less
mutilated by the hand of the iconoclast — where repose the
remains of archbishops, who in the ages of faith ruled the
church in England and maintained her rights inviolate. In
the circular space at the extreme end of the church is the
tomb of Cardinal Pole, the last archbishop who acknowledged
the supremacy and jurisdiction of the Holy See over the
church in his native country. Near it is the marble chair
known as St. Augustine's Chair, in which from time imme-
morial the archbishops have been and still are enthroned. On
great occasions it is moved to a more conspicuous place; in
that chair, on the very spot where the shrine of St. Thomas
formerly stood, the present metropolitan took his seat at his
recent enthronization.

In the Trinity Chapel there is not a stone that is not his-
torically valuable. The tomb of the Black Prince is there ;
that of Hubert Walter, the faithful archbishop and chancelloffl
who raised the ransom of Richard I.; of Archbishop Courtenay,
who tried WycHf ; of Coligny, Cardinal of Chatillon, and others
whom it is difficult to identify. It was the shrine of St.
Thomas, however, which gave the chapel its interest in old
days, and gave it its name too, as it covers the site of the
earlier Trinity Chapei, at the altar of which the saint cele-
brated his first Mass, and in the crypt of which his remains
for a time reposed. He had a special devotion to the Holy
Trinity, and he it was who introduced into England the fes-
tival of Trinity Sunday. Before speaking of the gorgeous
shrine to which his body was translated in 1220, fifty years
after his martyrdom, we will briefly recall the incidents at- ■
tending that martyrdom. ■

For several years preceding Becket's election to the arch-
bishopric there had been serious friction between his prede-

I903.J

:anterbury.

cesser and King Henry II., who persisted in assuming an
authority over the church which could not be tolerated. On
tie death of this prelate Henry was desirous that Thomas,
who while holding the office of chancellor had been a com-
plaisant courtier, should be the next archbishop. He carried
his point; but to his vexation, on assuming his new office as
Primate, Thomas applied all the force of his vigorous will to

The Old Cemeterv.

vindicate the rights and liberty of the church, and assert his
spiritual authority. Consequently he came into constant colli-
sion with the king, and at length the dissensions reached such
a pitch that Becket was impeached for high treason, and being
declared guilty, was forced to fly to France for safely, and
appeal to the Holy See for support. After seven years of
conflict, during which the king disgraced his cause by acts of
petty vengeance and persecution, Pope Alexander III. threat-
ened to lay the kingdom under an interdict, and a reconcilia-
tion was effected. Becket was allowed to return to Canter-
bury ; "I am going to England to die," were the last words
be said when bidding the Bishop of Paris farewell. And on
lis arrival, towards the close of 1170, in Canterbury, where he

Canterbury,

Oct,

was received with every demonstration of joy, the first dis-
course he delivered was on the words: "We have not here a
lasting city, but we seek one that is to ccme" (Heb. xiii. 14).
He was not deceived in his anticipation ; three of the bishcps
whom the pope had suspended for disobedience, finding their
censure was not removed, crossed over to Normandy, where
the king then was, to lay their grievances before him. Henry,
whose temper was fiery in the extreme, irritated by their
representations, exclaimed in his wrath : " Of all the cowards
who eat my bread will no one rid me of this insolent priest?"^

Four knights heard this outburst, and emboldened by it, oii|
Christmas Eve crossed the sea and shortly after made their
way to the archbishop's palace. After a stormy parley with
him in his chamber, they withdrew to arm, and Becket was
persuaded by his clerks to take sanctuary in the cathedral.
As he reached the steps leading from the transept to the choir
his pursuers burst in, shoutings from the cloisters. " W here/'
cried one of them named Fitzurse, in the dusk of the dimly-
lighted minster — "where is the traitor, Thomas a Becket?"
The primate turned resolutely back. " Here am I, no traitor
but a priest of God," he replied, and descending the steps he
placed himself with his back against a pillar and confronted
his foes. The four knights tried to drag him out of the cathe-^
dral, but he shook them off. " In defence of the church I am
willing to die," he said, "Strike, strike!^' Fitzurse cried, and
blow after blow felled the prelate to the ground. " Into Th/fl
hand, O Lord, I commend my spirit," he ejaculated. Then
one of the knights dealt him a blow so violent that his head
was cleft in two, and the assailant's sword fell broken upon
the marble pavement. "Let us be off," he said; "the man
will never rise up again." Thus, at the age of fifty- three,
periahed this great prelate and saint, a martyr to his duty — the
preservation of the immunities of the church.

The brutal murder sent a thrill of horror through Christen-
dom. The king, when he heard what had occurred at Canter-
bury, was filled with remorse for his hasty words, which had
suggested though not authorized the deed. For forty days he
did penance, fasting on bread and water; and on his return to
England, three years later, he entered Canterbury barefoot, in
the guise of a pilgrim, and suffered himself to be scourged by
the monks on the scene of the martyrdom.

1903]

Canterbury.

Bccket's remains were placed by the monks in a marble
sarcophagus in the crypt, and the desecrated cathedral was for
a whole year placed under a ban. The murder took place on
the 29th of December, 11 70; three years afterward Becket was
canonized by Pope Alexander III., and the day of his martyrdom
was set apart as the Feast of St. Thomas of Canterbury. Mean-
while the popular enthusiasm, kindled by the tragic circumstances
of the archbishop's death, rose to the highest pitch. Numberless
and striking miracles were wrought at his tomb; and before
long there was a rush of pilgrims from all parts to Canterbury.
After fifty years the remains of the saint were removed from
his tomb in the crypt to the new shrine prepared for him at
the eastern end of the cathedral. For centuries that shrine
was the most venerated in England; the offerings made at it
were of immense value, and it is described as being of un-
rivalled magnificence, costliness, and beauty. It was covered
with plates of pure gold set with large and beautifully sculp-
tured gems of fabulous value. The coffin rested on a struc-
ture of stone arches some five feet high, and was, as a rule,
concealed under a wooden cover, working on pulleys, which
was raised to exhibit the bier to the gaze of venerating pil-
grims. When the shrine was destroyed by order of Henry
VIIL the confiscated treasures filled two great chests; "such,"
the annals record, " as six or seven strong men could no more
than convey one of them out of the church."

Before leaving the cathedral we must visit the spacious
crypt, which is in fact the oldest portion of the edifice. It may
be asked what purpose did the crypt which is found in ancient
churches serve? The custom of constructing a crypt seems to
have been taken from the very early Christian churches in
Rome, which were in many cases built over the tomb of a
martyr, and therefore had a lower and an upper church, the
former being used for divine service in days of persecution.
The crypt of Canterbury Cathedral is the finest in existence;
the capitals of the massive pillars are worth examination, as
they are carved with many quaint and strange devices. In
lorm:r tim;s the whole crypt was dedicated to the Blessed
Virgin ; in the centre was her altar and chapel. " The Virgin
Mother," says an old writer, "has there a habitation, but
somewhat dark, enclosed with a double iron railing, for fear of
thieves, for indeed I never saw anything more loaded with

Canterbury,

Oc\.

riches. This chapel is not shown but to noblemen and parti-
cular friends. Lights being brought, we saw a spectacle of
more than royal splendor." Surrounded by exquisitely carved
stonework screens, and a beautiful reredos with delicate traceries
and mouldings, richly colored and gilt, was the altar of Our
Lady, twinkling with hundreds of silver lamps. Under a
pinnacled canopy stood the famous silver image of the Mother
of God — "Our Lady of the Undercroft," as it was titled —
before whick many a sufferer had sought and found relief. On
each side were placed the gold candelabra wherewith the Blactr
Prince enriched his favorite shrine. Of this magnificence
nothing remains but a few traces of the decoration of the roof.

The undercroft of the south transept is now appropriated to
the French service, which dates from the settlement in Canter-
bury of Protestant refugees in the year 1575. Tradition say^
that while a portion was set apart as their "temple," tha
remainder of the crypt was assigned to them for their occupa-
tion as silk and wool- weavers. This settlement of foreign
Protestants had its influence on the religious and commercial
history of the city. A large number of families of French
name and descent still reside in Canterbury,

Passing through the extensive precincts, shaded by fine
lime-trees, the visitor will see St. Augustine's College, close to
the old city wall, once a school and monastery, now rebuilt
and used as a training college for Protestant missionaries. A
little farther are the ruins of the ancient church of St. Pancras,
the first church, the historian Thorne tells us, dedicated by
St. Augustine, in what were " the remains of an idol house
where King Ethelbert, according to the rites of his tribe, was
wont to pray." He adds: "There is still extant an altar in
the south porticus of the same church at which Augustine was
wont to celebrate, where formerly stood the idol of the king."
Recent excavations have revealed the foundations of a church
of Roman structure, with an altar base in the position mentioned
by the historian.

St. Martin's Church, which has already been mentioned, is
still used for divine service, unhappily according to the rites of
the state establishment. This church dates from the commence-
ment of the fourth century, when Maximus, before his elevation
to the purple, was sent as general to Britain. Previously to
his proclamation as emperor he became a Christian, and it is

^3]

Canterbury.

3 that some of the British troops who followed him, return-
' to their Dative country from Rome, erected for themselves
hurch close to the small Roman encampment on St. Martin's
The Venerable Bede mentions this church as having been
cted during the Roman occupation of Britain, and as being
icated to St. Martin of Tours, who had been a friend and

I HI eHOlR OF riiL Caihedrai..

insellor of Maximus. From his testimony we also learn that
was in this church that the members of St Augustine's
wion assembled, "to sing, to pray, to say Mass, to preach
\ to baptize." There King Ethelbert was baptized; and
Ji him, it is said, ten thousand of the men of Kent embraced
iristianity. The font in which the monarch was baptized still
ists. The church itself has had a remarkable history, sur-
ring disuse and decay, the savage destructiveness of the
Xons, the devastation of Danish invaders, and the apathy

later limes. Its great antiquity renders it an object of
ich interest to antiquarians, although the "restorations" of
)scquent centuries have done much to destroy the remains of
ie ancient architecture. Part of the walls both of nave and
ianccl are evidently of Roman workmanship.

Another of the relics of olden times that abound in this

Canterbury.

[Oct..

ancient city is the " Dane John," a pleasure ground close to the
town walls, open from time immemorial for the amusement of
the citizens. In the centre is a high conical mound, from
whence a view of the surrounding country is obtained. This
mound is a puzzle to antiquarians; however old the wall is,
and it is constructed oi Roman brick, the mound is older, for
the wall takes a bend obviously to include it. Some suggest
that the singular name of Dane John comes from Donjon, a
castle keep, but it was not the castle keep. Others allege that
it is a Danish earthwork; but it seems of earlier date than the
Danish invasion. However this may be, these minor points of
interest appear insignificant in' comparison with the historical
and ecclesiastical interest — of no ordinary kind — which sheds a
halo around the elegant and venerable structure which our
forefathers were at such pains to embellish, and where thousands
of pious pilgrims formerly knelt in prayer.

'903.]

Before the Storm.

BBPOI^B IPHE Stoi^m.

BY DEVEREL'X.

EAUTIFUL Ocean ! fair are thy waves,

Flowing beneath the bright sun.
Thy moody caprices man fearlessly braves,
The charm of thy courses to run.

Soft as the summer-time whispering tales

Of far-away harbors of bliss.
Eagerly wooing the white spreading sails,

Embracing the vessels you kiss.

No word do you breathe of the dangers around,

As softly you sigh in the breeze.
Like the panther who crouches before the death-bound,

You seem to be fawning to please.

But when on your bosom the sailor beguiled

Surrenders himself to your charm,
As the maniac ravages foaming and wild,

You loosen your passion for harm.

The low-lying storm yonder looms like the night,

Fit comrade to thee in thy hate,
Stealthily creepir% to share thy delight,

Thy lust of destruction to sate.

Treacherous Ocean I sea serpent thou,

Charming thy prey but to kill ;
Never more lovely, more subtle than now,

When all on thy surface is still.

TOL. LXXVlll. — 6

$2 A Wayside Shrine. [Oct.,

A WAYSIDE SHRINE.

BY CHARLES CURTZ HAHN.

lEOPLE making the "overland journey/' as it was
called in years gone by, to California are im-
pressed by the desolateness of the wayside
stations along the great railroads after one goes
beyond civilization, into the alkali region of
what was once known as "The Great American Desert."
These lonely stations consist of a box- like telegraph- operator's
office, a diminutive waiting-room in which few people ever
have occasion to wait, and a living-room for the operator and
his family, if one is so unfortunate as to belong to him. The
only other structure within miles of the place is a great water
tank, a few rods up the road, with its wind- mill pump and its
iron spout hanging high over the rails. This description will
fit any of a score or more of stations on two, at least, of the
great lines stretching across the continent and climbing over
the Rockies into the golden, sunlit land of the Pacific Coast.

Singleton, out on the alkali plains of the Texas and Pacific
Railroad, was one of these. But here the , monotony of the
dead sandy level, which had wearied the eyes of the travellers
along the road, was relieved by a gully, which started a
dozen rods east of the station and raiv at cross-purposes with
the compass towards the north-west, growing deeper as it ran
until, evidently weary of findmg an outlet lower than itself, it
gradually widened and lost itself in the burning plains.

But near the station it made a perceptible gash in the sur-
face of the earth. The bottom was really moist at times, and
between the sides one could be partially sheltered from the
fierce beating of the sun, while a few blades of grass struggled
after a foreordained failure of existence.

On the side next to the station, and consequently concealed
from it, stood a little girl, clad, seemingly, in a single faded
calico garment, which reached from her neck to half-way be-
tween her knees and ankles, displaying a leg which no sculptor
would care to model as an expression of grace. On her head
was an old, wide-brimmed straw hat, as torn and dilapidated

'903]

A Waystde Shrine.

«3

as her dress. Her appearance gave one the idea that sun and
alkali had shrunk both figure and garment.

Not so odd was her appearance, however, as the object
before which she was standing in almost mute adoration. Cut
in the side of the ravine was a little grotto, if so humble a hole
in the ground could be designated by such a name, which she
had dug with a fire-shovel borrowed from the station. It was
only a few feet in width and scarcely deep enough to hold a
pine box once used to contain crackers. Upon the rear of this
had been placed a smaller box, and both had been laboriously
covered with brown wrapping paper, such as comes from the
grocer or hardware man around sugar or nails. Yet it was
evident from the pride and happiness showing in the little
maid's face, that for her this hole in the side of the gulch had
some potent meaning.

Upon the upper, smaller box, had been fixed a cross, made
by tying two sticks together with a string, and on each side of
it the end of a candle had been made stationary by dropping
a bit of melted tallow on the box and pressing the candle end
upon it. On the front was pasted the solitary ornament be-
longing to the child — a holy picture which she had taken from
her prayer-book — a little print of the Virgin and Child, Upon
the larger box, which might be considered the altar of this
wayside shrine, were reverently laid the treasures of the little
devotee ; a bit of colored glass, picked up at the foot of a
telegraph pole, where it had fallen when no longer fit for
insulating electric messages ; a round, smooth, and highly polished
piece of hard coal, chosen by her for its depth of coloring,
and one or two pebbles of a size and color which had pleased
the eye of this child collector as she wandered around the
station.

f^itiful as they appeared, the treasures of her heart were
here laid upon the Altar of the Virgin. And, to her, no tem-
ple with lofty spires and gleaming marble altars could have
been half so radiantly beautiful as this papered cracker- box
stuck in the side of a dry ravine.

The child sat down on a lump of earth removed from the
niche during her labors of construction, and her eyes glanced
wearily over the burning plains, across which the iron rails
ran. It was a weary, old look in the little face, a face which,
by all the laws of God, man, and nature, should have been
plump, dimpled, and smiling; and the far away look in hec

iffPJNE.

?rtT

I
I

eyes was pathetic to see, even in one who has grown wrinkled

and gray under the world's rough hand.

As she sat there, her mind busy with the reasons for this
shrine in a slough from which the water had dried centuries
ago, she became lost in childish meditation. There was a pic-
ture in her little brain, faint and now fading, of a passenger
coach and a sick mamma; the alighting at this wayside sta-
tion, and a bed in the hot waiting room. Then, all of a sud-
den her mamma refused to speak to her, and the operator had
brought in a long board and laid her mamma upon it. The
little maiden had tried to hug her mamma, but mamma was
stifT and cold, and would not even smile.

Some things in the next few days were very weird and dim
in the maiden's mind. She could remember several men putting
her mamma in a box, and of a walk out on the burning sand,
— a hole and mamma put down into it She had cried when
they did this, and grasped the hand of the station agent, who
had hold of one end of the rope which was letting the long
box down into the ground. But her strength was too feeble
to stop him. Then the men rattled the sand and earth down
upon her mamma, and Miriam sat down and cried.

The next few days were very vague and misty in her
mind. She remembered snatches of conversation between the
agent and the train-men, from which she had gleaned that she
had a father somewhere, but no one knew where. And the
agent said that she should stay with him and his wife for
awhile at least.

She remembered her papa, a kind faced man with black
whiskers, who used to cuddle her in his arms, and she wanted
him, oh so much, now ! She knew the station agent had tele- M
graphed all along the line, telling of the waif left at Singleton
station, and asking about her father; but he could learn nothing.

Then, as the long, hot days dragged themselves across the ■
desert, the idea somehow filtered into her little brain that if
she could only do something to propitiate the Blessed Virgin,
she would be able to find her papa. For all her short life she
had been carefully trained in the belief that the Mother of ■
God was a sure refuge for her children. Now, in her extremity,
she decided to test this refuge ! Test it ? No ! The childish
faith needed no test ! She would simply do something to
please the Virgin, and the Virgin would bring back her papal
There was no doubt about that ! Doubt is left for older people.

I
I

1903-

A Ways WE Shrine.

But what could a little girl out on the plains find to do
thatwould please the Lady in Heaven? Carefully she ran over
her small accomplishments and opportunities for " extraordinary
works of devotion," but none of them offered such an opening
as she thought would be satisfactory. Once she almost de-
cided on the conversion of the station agent, but the magni-
tude of the undertaking discouraged her. Her ways of grace
were decidedly limited.

Miriam's heart was very sad when, like a rift in the cloud,
came an inspiration I She would build a shrine to the Good
Mother of Jesus !

Wearily, day after day, she dug into the bank of the
ravine, until an irregular and entirely inartistic hole had been
excavated. With infinite pains and labor, which brought blis-
ters to her fingers, she toiled on until her self-imposed task
was finished ; and then her heart exulted !

She had done something to please the Virgin ! She had
built her an Altar in this lonely land, and the Virgin would
find her papa for her !

While Miriam was thus dreaming she heard the whistle of
the east-bound express coming across the plains, and a few
minutes later knew, from the sounds of unusual activity around,
that it had stopped at the station. But for once the great
ssnution of the day had no attraction for her. She still dreamed
on; then, at least five minutes later, recovered with a start
»nd found herself wondering why the express had not passed
by. In the midst of her busy thoughts she had completely
forgotten it. It was still standing on the main track by the
station, and she heard voices ; one railroad man was saying
to another :

"It will take an hour to clear the track"; and then cursed
their luck in being held at such a God-forsaken place.

There had been a wreck of a freight train a few miles east,
and the express was being held at Singleton until it could be
cleared away. There were not many passengers, and the few
there were found nothing in the bare plains to draw them from
the coaches. Save one, an official of the road, Chicago bound,
who alighted and walked around to stretch his legs. The pro-
cess led him to the ravine where Miriam was seated, and he
stood gazing at her and the queer little hole in the earth for a
moment before she discovered his presence. i

*' Quite a play-house, my little woman ! " said the official.

86 A Wayside Shrine. [Oct,

for he was a genial man, with a love for children, whatever
strikers and disgruntled employees might think of him.

'"Tain't a play-house," replied Miriam promptly.

" Oh ! I beg your pardon. What is it then, if I may ask ? "
the manager persisted, with a smile which won the confidence
of the little priestess.

" It's a shrine t' th' Bless'd Virgin. I built it myself 'cause
I want to 'pishate her 'n' find my papa."

The general manager was not a Christian, yet there was
something so wistful and earnest in the face of the ragged girl
before him that -his face became unusually grave as he asked :

" Who are you, daughter ? Maybe I can help you find
your papa."

"Oh! did the Blessed Virgin send you?" Miriam ex-
claimed, jumping up, and a smile spreading over her face.
" Did she ? Oh ! I 'm so glad."

" Not so fast, little one," the official replied, a trifle sadly.
"But, who knows? Perhaps she did. Tell me who you are,
and why you have dug this queer little hole in the ground."
• Rapidly Miriam told her pitiful story. There was not a
doubt in her. mind now, notwithstanding his disclaimer, that
this man had been sent by the Virgin to help her. And at
the end of her recital the man cleared his throat as he asked
very gently:

" What is your name, little one ? "

" Miriam."

" Miriam ! How long have you been here, child ? "

"Oh! a long time. Most a year, I guess," the girl answered
wearily.

" And what was your papa's name ? "

" I know that 'cause it 's in my prayer-book," and lifting
a corner of the brown wrapping paper from her altar, she
drew forth a child's prayer-book.

"There, you can read it," she said, turning to the front
fly-leaf and handing the book to the manager. He took it
from her hands and read :

"William Kennedy."

" Um-m," was all he uttered for a moment. Then, stretch-
ing out his hand to the girl, he gravely said:

" Come, little one. Let us go up to the station. Perhaps
I can find your papa for you."

" I knew the Blessed Virgin sent you ! "

1903]

A Wayside Shrine.

"Perhaps she did, without my knowing of it," the general
manager replied thoughtfully.

"The wreck is cleared away," was the operator's greeting,
as the official appeared at the station, leading Miriam by the hand.
" Where 's the engineer ? "

"Here, sir," replied that person, who had left his engine
ia charge of the fireman and was talking to the conductor.

"Can you make up fifteen minutes more between here and
Tucson ? "

"If we don't run across another wreck I can."
"Then, conductor, hold the train a quarter of an hour
longer."

But the train was not held that long. Ten minutes proved
sufficient for all requirements. The general manager hastily
probed the station agent for Miriam's history ; and as he was
only too glad to find some one interested in the waif, the
station agent speedily told all he knew about her.

" I know a William Kennedy, who has been mourning the
loss of his wife and child for nearly a year," said the general
manager, when the recital was ended. " He came to our road
from Kansas City, and told a story of having met with an
accident just as his wife and daughter started for California.
He lay in the hospital, unconscious, for weeks, and when dis-
charged, he could get no trace of them. It nearly drove him
crazy. That was why the operator here and the train-men on
this division could learn nothing of him — he was in the hos-
pital, ignorant of the fact that his wife had died. And at
that time he was not engaged on this road. He is a civil
engineer, and last month was employed to survey a branch
road for us through Texas. If you have no objections I will
take the girl along with me and hunt him up. If he does not
prove to be her father, I will take her on home with me.
She will be no worse off than here."
" Couldn't be," muttered the engineer.

Well what more need be told ? The general manager took
Miriam with him. The engineer made up the forty minutes
lost, and the east-bound express reached Tucson on time. At
the terminus of that division they found William Kennedy.
He was Miriam's papa. And to this day the little girl, now
grown to be a woman, firmly believes the general manager
was sent by the Blessed Virgin in answer to her prayers.

83 ALEXANDER in. AND A POLISH PRIEST. [Oct.,

ALEXANDER III. AND A POLISH PRIEST.

BY J, BRODHEAD.

[N the modest hamlet of Podborz, not far from
Tomaszof, an industrial town near the Western
frontier of Russian Poland, there lives a saintly
priest whose name is scarcely known outside
the limits of his rural parish. Nevertheless the
influence of this Polish priest, Father Zudmowski, is almost
as far-reaching as the Empire of the Autocrat of all the Rus-
sias. Since 1872 he was the friend, confidant, and counsellor of
Alexander III., who made his acquaintance while visiting Field
Marshal Baratinski, at a time when there seemed little probabiU
ity that he would ascend the throne of the Romanoffs.

Unable to overcome the priest's aversion to leaving his
humble parish for a more important mission near St. Peters-
burg, Alexander the Third purchased a hunting estate in the
neighborhood, in the forest of Beloweshki.
- To this castle of Spala it was, for years, the custom of
the Czar to retire from time to time to enjoy the society
of Father Zudmowski. Here the untiring royal worker sought
surcease from the toils of state and the solace of human
friendship, a boon so rare and precious for one whom Provi-
dence had so unenviably exalted above his fellows.

By a judicious use of his influence. Father Zudmowski
has greatly ameliorated the condition of the peasantry in his
native land. To him is due, to a great extent, that admirable
institution " The Peasants' Land Bank," organized on lines
that would satisfy the most advanced socialist, and which has
done more than anything else to neutralize the baneful effects
of Semite usury in rural districts, resulting as it always did in
the absorption of the land by Hebrews. No Jew is now
allowed to possess more than fifteen acres, and these he must
cultivate himself, or at any rate he is not allowed to have a
Christian farm tenant.

This Peasants' Land Bank, endowed with a capital of many

I903-J

ALEXANDER III. AND A POLISH PRIEST.

millions from the Public Utility Fund, issues loans to the
peasant on the security of his farm up to ninety of its
valuation. In order to obtain or renew a loan the peasant
must furnish a certificate from the local committee, established
for the purpose of examining into the real needs of the farmer
soliciting such aid. He pays no interest, but cannot sell or
mortgage any part of his property without the consent of the
bank.

Father Zudmowski is about seventy- six years of age. He
has setn many bishops and priests, exiled forty years ago for
having taken part in the Polish insurrections of 1863, restored
to their native land by the present Emperor. Above all, he
saw to some extent the long-standing breach between Rome and
Russia healed at last. Alexander's representative at the Vatican
was the bearer of an autograph letter from the Czar to the Pontiff —
the contents of which are known only to these two, and per-
haps to Father Zudmowski. In 1849, when Pius IX. was an
exile at Gaeta, two documents, regarded as Russian state papers,
were published in Paris. One of them, entitled " The Papacy
and the Roman Question," is of singular interest read in the
light of the present :

"The Papacy cannot much longer remain shut up in this
fiery circle. . . . How, in view of what is passing, shall it
be forbidden to Christians to hope . . . that on the eve of
'he combats now approaching God will restore to the church
*he plenitude of her strength, and that for this purpose he will
wme. in his time, to heal with his merciful hand the wound in
her side made by the hands of men ? — this wound {i. e., the
«chism between the Eastern and Western churches) which has
bled for eight hundred years. The orthodox Greek Church
has never despaired of the cure. She awaits it, she reckons on
'ti not only with confidence but with certainty. Despite the
separation of several centuries, she has not ceased to remem-
ber that the Christian principle has never perished in the
Church of Rome. She knows also that, at the present hour,
*s during the centuries past, the Christian destinies of the
West are still in the hands of the Church of Rome, and she
Slopes, with confidence, that at the hour of the great reunion
she (the Church of Rome) will restore to her (the Greek
Church) this deposit intact."

\LEXANDEl

AND A FOLTSH

[Oct..

Xt. is impossible to overestimate, from a moral and political
sCan<l-point, the importance and the desirability of this reunion
of the Western with the Eastern Church, represented by Russia
since 1453-

This reunion is in the nature of things, and bound to take
place sooner or later, Russia has no quarrel with Rome, like
E.ngland or Germany. She never shook off the yoke of the
Roman Pontiffs. Her great misfortune was that she never
bore it. Her saints are our saints, her sacraments are our
sacraments.

If, on the one hand, the Latin Church has preserved in-
tact the sacred deposit confided to her, nowhere is the gener-
ating principle of Christianity more deeply engrafted and
vigorous than it is among the Russian people. No nation is
more imbued and impregnated with the spirit of self-sacrifice
and self-abnegation, this vital essence of Christianity which lies
deeper than creed, and of which it was said " If the salt hath
lost its flavor wherewith shall it be salted." Among the
Western nations the lust for filthy lucre and all the ills en-
tailed by the ruthless struggle to acquire it, have so weakened
this great principle that, suiting the theory to the practice,
•cience and literature have devised theories to justify the status
quo social. We hear everywhere of " the struggle for life,
the survival of the fittest," " the law of supply and de-
mand," etc.

But notwithstanding the narrow views of naturalists, who,
with eyes bent earthwards, see but one side, and that the
meanest of the grand scheme of creation, the struggle for life
and the survival of the fittest are not the last words nor the
be all and end all.

Ttie faculty of self-renunciation and self-sacrifice is, and will
always remain, the basis of man's moral nature — nay, of all
nature.

The reunion of the West with the young and vigorous
nation of the East would be like the infusion of new blood
and virile elements, that would quicken the life-giving pulsa-
tions of the Church Universal. Nor is this all. History re-
peats itself, and if the observations of thoughtful travellers are
not astray, there are indications that the wave of Islamism,
which beat so fiercely upon the shores of Europe in the

iw]

SU'EET THOUGHTS.

centuries past, has only receded. It is not spent, by any
means.

The Crimean War was waged against the Moslem by Nicho-
las I., overtly and emphatically, not as Czar of all the Russias,
but as the head of the Eastern Church. Nor have these two
opposing armies disbanded since then. Their final struggle is
yet to come. And as the victories of Charles Martei and of
Ferdinand and Isabella saved Europe in the past from becom-
ing a province of the Sultans of Bagdad or Iconium, so the
oatcomc of the final struggle between Slav and Moslem will
herald and inaugurate the era of a New World in the Old.

Not*, — Referring to my Shvomd Moslem, Cardinal Gibbons wrote: " Tkt subjttt is tne
tft«iliar imterrst—fartientarlv tv IHt Chrittian student."

SWBHT THOUGHTS.

BY MARIAN S. PINE.

UILD in thy heart a nest;
There let sweet thoughts, like birds
On golden wing,

Sing, sing,
The livelong day.
Their warbles blest
Will charm pale Grief and Care away,
Drown Envy's soul-consuming words,
And all thy Passions sweetly lull to rest.

92 Divorce and its Effects on Society. [Oct.,

DIVORCE AND ITS EFFECTS ON SOCIETY.

BY DR. GEORGE GIGLINGER.

'HE laws of a free, self-governed people are but
the reflection of the degree of civilization
which these people, in their march through the
ages, have reached as a nation. These laws are
not only their own creation, but they are their
standard of morality, and by them are individuals and nation
judged. The effect cannot be greater than its cause, and human
laws cannot be higher than human ideals, of right and wrong.
Lax divorce laws point, therefore, to a lax public opinion on
marriage, and nothing but a change of public opinion in this
regard will bring about a change in the marriage laws. The
census of divorce in the United States for the past year is
given as 45,000; Chicago leads with 4,341, Greater New York
follows with 2,146, Philadelphia 1,772, San Francisco 1,760,
St. Louis 1,596, Indianapolis 1,391, etc. According to Rev.
William O'Brien Pardow, S.J,, 500,000 divorces have been
granted in the United States within the last twenty years, and
1,500,000 children have seen their homes broken up. This is
a vast army of divorced people, and leaves more desolation and
bitter tears in its path than an invading army of 500,000 men.
Before casting a glance at our own times and suggesting
remedies for existing evils it may not be amiss to look back
to the historic ages of the Romans, Greeks, and Jews. What
were the marriage laws in ancient times, and what were their
effects on society ? Look at Rome. According to Dr. Mueller
the family life of the early Romans was exemplary, and a
goddess called "Bona Dea" (the Good Goddess) was its pro-
tectress. For more than five hundred years divorce was un-
known among the Romans. Spurius Carvilius is mentioned as
the first man who rejected his wife on account of her sterility.
Gellius says that his motives for rejecting her were based on
scruples of conscience, for he loved her ; but being obliged,
according to custom, to take an oath that marriage was entered
into with the intention of bringing forth offspring, which inten-
tion being frustrated, he thought that the love he felt for his
wife was subordinate to the obligation imposed upon him by

'903-J

Dtvorce and its Effects on Society.

tbe oath, and he therefore dismissed her. The Romans vener-
ated a special goddess named " Viriplaca," who was supposed
to settle disputes between husband and wife. The first mar-
riage of the Roman woman was the ideal marriage, and on
many a tombstone the inscription may be read " Univira " (to
one man) ; man also thought it an honor to remain faithful to
iiis dead wife. Statius says: "To love a living wife is delight,
but to love a dead one is a sacred duty." The noble Roman
families pointed with just pride to a blameless family life.
Both married and unmarried men would do well to remember
the words of Seneca, viz., that it is impious to expect a woman
to be chaste if the man himself is a corrupter of the weak sex.
Lncius Antonius was expelled from the senate because he had
deserted a virgin whom he had married ; ,'EdiIius Mancinus,
who was attacked in a disreputable house, could get no satis>
faction before a court of justice ; and punishment was inflicted
on Sergius Silus simply because he had promised money to a
married woman. As long as the family life of the Romans
was free from reproach the Romans were heroes and happy,
but with its fall they became cowards and malcontents. Momm-
scn very appropriately says : " Five hundred and twelve years
elapsed from the foundation of Rome before the first formal
divorce was granted ; but the divorcer, till his death, was pur-
sued by the obloquy of his fellow-citizens." In those days
nothing could withstand the onset of the Roman legions. Then
Rome ruled the known world But, in the time of Julius
C*iar, celibacy and childlessness became more and more corn-
won; the family institution fell. The Latin stock in Italy
underwent an alarming diminution. Marcus Aurelius tried to
bring the Romans back to a sense of duty ; but the Roman
virtue was gone, the people had no sense of a personal respon-
sibility to their gods, who were simply things of their own fan-
ciful creation, and Rome perished.

Now, casting a glance at Greece, we should keep in mind
that the Greeks were a poetic people and much taken with the
beauty of form ; but in spite of all this, and in spite of philo-
sophic schools that made sensual pleasures the end and aim of
life, they held chastity in high esteem and no goddess was
more honored among them than the chaste Athena. It is true
that the Spartan marriage laws were very lax, but the fact
that, for a considerable period of time, they were a source of
scandal to the other Greek states, is a redeeming feature. We

9«

flVORCE AND ITS EFFECTS ON SOCIETY.

read that even the Spartan Gerodates when asked by a stranger
what punishments were meted out to those who were unfaith-
ful to their marriage vows, answered : " My friend, there are
no such people amongst us." The family institution was at
that time the palladium of Greece, but the nation got tired of
this fundamental institution, and Polybius, her historian, writes
that the downfall of Greece was not owing to the war or to
the plague, but mainly to a general repugnance felt for mar-
riage and a reluctance to rear large families, caused by an M
extravagantly high standard of living. ■

If we now look at the Jews we find that among them the
libtllum repudii was only tolerated on account of the hardness
of their hearts. We read in the book of Genesis : " Where-
fore a man shall leave father and mother and shall cleave to
his wife, and they shall be two in one flesh," viz., they will befl
at inseparable as unity is from itself. The Jews were faithful to
thJH divine command until they witnessed during their captivity
in Kijyp' the transgressions of their oppressors. In later years,
i>n account of their weakness of faith, their corruption of
morals, and " their hardness of heart," a man was permitted to
jj'ivc a bill of divorce to his wife and dismiss her. This per-
mission did not regard conjugal infidelity, for which the pen-
alty of death was decreed, but was very vague, for a man
could dismiss his wife if she " found not favor in his eyes on
account of some uncleanness." This law was rarely resorted to
until a short time before the coming of Christ. Christ, how-B
ever, restored marriage to its original purity and indissolu-
bility, for we read in St. Matthew, chapter xix. : " And there
came to him the Pharisees tempting him and saying; Is it
lawful for a man to put away his wife for every cause ? Who,
aniwering, said to them : Have you not read that he who
made man from the beginning made them male and female ?
And he said : For this cause shall a man leave father and
mother and cleave to his wife, and they two shall be in one
flesh. Therefore now they are not two, but one flesh. What
therefore God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.
Thay say to htm : Why then did Moses command to give a
bill of divorce, and to put away ? He saith to them : Because
Moses by reason of the hardness of your heart permitted you
(/> put away your wives ; but from the beginning it was not
IP, And I say to you, that whosoever shall put away his
irife, except it be for fornication, and shall marry another.

'903.]

DIVORCE AND ITS EFFECTS ON SOCIETY.

committeth adultery : and he that shall marry her that Is put
away, committeth adultery." The first impression in reading
this text is that Christ did away with divorce except in the
case of adultery, in which case divorce may be granted. We
admit that this text considered by itself has been a source of
much perplexity and confusion, but it is not beyond interpre-
tation, and a flood of light is thrown on it when compared
with other texts that bear on this matter. The most important
o( these texts is: St. Luke xvi. 18.: "Every one that putteth
away his wife and marrieth another, committeth adulleiy : and
he that marrieth her that is put away from her husband, com-
mitteth adultery." This text admits of no exception and is
plainly to the point. St. Mark in the tenth chapter says:
"What therefore God hath joined together, let no man put
asunder. And in the house again his disciples asked him con-
cerning the same thing. And he saith to them : Whosoever
shall put away his wife and marry another, committeth adul-
tery against her. And if the wife shall put away her husband,
and be married to another, she committeth adultery." If Christ
intended to make adultery sufificient cause not only for divorce
but also for remarriage, he should have mentioned it when he
addressed his Apostles, whom he commissioned to teach all
nations. St. Paul, answering some questions addressed to him
by the Christian converts at Corinth, says: "But to them that
arc married not I but the Lord commandeth that the wife de-
part not from her husband. And if she depart, that she
fctnain unmarried or be reconciled to her husband ; and let not
the husband put away his wife." And in the seventh chapter
of his Epistle to the Romans he says: " Know you not, breth-
Kn, that the law hath dominion over a man, as long as he liveth ?
For the woman that hath a husband, whilst her husband liveth,
she shall be called an adulteress, if she be with another man."
St. Paul, after having stated in plain words that he is teaching
not his own doctrine but the word of God, says that only
death can dissolve the bond of matrimony, and that as long as
the husband liveth she is an adulteress if she be with another
nan; hence she must either remain unmarried or be reconciled
to her husband.

Considering now the text of St. Matthew, mention may be
made of the fact that about forty years before Christ there
were two main opinions on the causes for which a woman
could be dismissed. Rabbi Schammai and his followers main-

99 DIVORCE AND ITS EFFECTS ON SOCIETY. I Oct.,

tained that the libellum repudii could be given only on account^
of fornication and in a few other exceptional cases. Hillel and
his followers claimed that the wife could be dismissed whenever
the man was dissatisBed with her. The question of divorce
was a vital question at the time of Christ, and according to the
text of St. Matthew it contained two distinct truths, viz., of
putting away the wife, and of marrying again. The preposition
" except " belongs to the first part of the sentence and not to
the second. It modifies the general statement made by our
Lord "whosoever shall put away his wife committeth adultery,"
and has no reference to what follows, "and shali marry another."

Permission is given to put away in case of fornication, no
permission is given to marry again. The meaning of the text
of St. Matthew is, that if a wife be guilty of fornication, the
husband, in putting her away, is not guilty of adultery ; but if
ha puts her away without grave cause (fornication), he thereby
unjustly denies to her the rights which she acquired over his
body when contracting marriage ; and exposing her to the sin
of incontinence, which in her case is adultery, he is also to
some extent responsible for this sin. If he marries again he is
guilty of adultery. A Protestant writer says: "Suppose we
find this precept: 'Whosoever shall flog his son, except it be
for disobedience, and shall put him to death, shall be punishable
by law,' who would suppose that disobedience justified the
father not only in flogging but also in causing the death of his
son by excessive flogging? If the law- giver intended to give
to the father this extreme right he would say, ' Except in case
of disobedience, whoever shall flog his son and put him to
death shall be punishable by law,' or else, 'Whoever shall flog
his son and put him to death, except it be for disobedience,
shall be punished by law.' The exception must logically and
grammatically be referred to statements which precede and not
to those which follow unless it be expressly mentioned." The
exceptive words in St. Matthew, therefore, give permission to
put away the wife on account of fornication, as Rabbi Schammai's
followers contended, but they give- no permission to remarry.

Whence the alarming increase in divorce in our own day?
Because marriage is no longer looked upon as symbolical of the
union of Christ with His Church, which is inseparable; but is
the loo.qe bond which unites a pleasure-seeking husband and
wife. A marriage which rests on pleasure as its foundation
cannot long satisfy the cravings of human passions, and its

1903]

Divorce and its Effects on Society.

stability decreases as the passions increase. Marriage is un-
fortunately looked upon by many as a simple contract between
min and woman, which contract may be nullified by mutual
consent Many have a wrong conception of the nature of
marriage ; they are forgetful of the fact that it is a sacred
public institution on which depends not only their own personal
weal and woe but that of society. It is contracted in most
instances from a sense of love, but it must be continued from
a sense of duty. In the marriage contract liberty is sacrificed
on the altar of duty, and though love may pass away, duty
remains. Married people owe this sacred duty to God, to
themselves, to their offspring, and to the safety and stability of
their country. By loose marriages race-suicide is encouraged
and the welfare of state and society is threatened. An English
judge, Lord Stowell, when deciding the case of Evans vs.
Evans, said : " It must be carefully remembered that the
general happiness of the married life is secured by its indis-
solubility. When people understand that they must live
together they learn to soften, by mutual accommodation, that
yoke which they know they cannot shake off. They become
good husbands and good wives, for necessity is a powerful
master in teaching the duties it imposes. If it were once
understood that upon mutual disgust married persons might
become legally separated, many couples who now pass through
the world with mutual comfort, with attention to their offspring
and to the mora! order of civil society, might have been at
this moment living in a state of mutual unkindness, in a state
of estrangement from their common offspring, and in a state of
most licentious and unreserved immorality In this case, as in
many others, the happiness of some individuals must be sacri-
ficed to the greater and more general good." Truly golden
words, for marriages of divorced persons are but " registered "
concubinages and their effects upon society are even worse
than those wrought upon it by the Mormons. These support
several wives, while divorced men have several wives without
supporting any. The case of the wife who deserts her husband
is no better, and is even deserving of a severer censure, be-
cause when woman induces man to do wrong, she being the
weaker, will be the greater sufferer in the end.

Strict anti-divorce laws should be enacted in every State
of the Union, so strict as to render human weakness sitting on

VOL. LXXVIII.— 7

98 Divorce and its Effects on Society. [Oct,

the bench unable to put asunder what God hath joined together.
A personal responsibility to God must be inculcated in the
minds of our young men and young women. God must not
be considered simply as a force of nature but as a persona]
Being who rewards and punishes, and to whom we are in-
debted for all we are and have. Our human and eternal hap-
piness both depend on our fidelity to him. Unless married
men and women are guided by higher motives than a mere
external obedience to human laws, the institution of marriage
will and must suffer ; for human laws are inadequate to root out
the abominable crime of race-suicide by which the fundamental
laws of nature are violated, and which is a prolific source of
much unhappiness and of divorce. President Roosevelt's name
will go down to posterity because, as the highest representative
of the people, he had the moral courage to point out the great
wrong which secretly threatens to destroy our nation. Our
system of co-education, especially after the age of fourteen or
fifteen years, is also responsible for many hasty marriages and
much unhappiness in the married state, because it sets aside
the laws^ of nature, which require a different training for the
girl from that of the boy, according to the different natures and
different callings in life. Experience is also in contradiction
with the theory that by bringing boys and girls together (es-
pecially between the ages of fourteen to eighteen) their tempta-
tions are lessened and that greater purity of life is thereby
attained. Boys and girls find, on the contrary, that instead of
being gods and goddesses they are but very frail human beings
with like temptations, the satisfaction of which they can easily
procure. Another great evil and fruitful source of divorce is
that the people of moderate means in their mad desire to shine
in society and enjoy all the luxuries of life, live far beyond
their means, neglecting home and sacred duties. Self* sacrifice
being unknown to them, a very slight disagreement is sufficient
to break the sacred bond and separate them.

Many other considerations on this subject might be ad-
vanced, but it will suffice to say that only by returning to the
chaste virtues of our forefathers we shall be enabled to
strengthen and make inviolate the sacred bond of marriage.
Stringent laws should be enacted, and a healthy opinion
should be fostered by our press, by the leaders of society and
all those that are concerned in this vital question.

1903]

Thoughts on philosophy.

THOUGHTS ON PHILOSOPHY.

BY ALBERT REYNAUD.

I.
iHEN the average man fights shy of anything that
smacks of philosophy, he scarcely realizes that
he is affirming a philosophy of his own — at least
the unfruitfulness and perhaps the inconclusive-
ness of philosophical thought.
More than that. He still less is conscious that we all must
have and do have a philosophy. Oh! it is very crude, perhaps;
unsystematized, incoherent, and somewhat contradictory. But
by the very fact that man is a rational animal, and not a mere
brute or an idiot, a philosophy of some kind more or less wit-
tingly affects, helps to shape, and in some measure determines
bis opinions, beliefs, criterions of jitdgment and conduct — in a
word^ his life.

Poor Mr. Jourdain ! amazed to learn that you spoke prose.
Be good enough to know that you think philosophy. But be
reassured you are neither an Addison nor — a Plato.

II.
Yes, And the natural philosophy of the human mind is
not such a bad thing of its kind. In fact when we laboriously
unlearn it for some chance article " made in Germany," or else-
where, it is not so sure that the exchange is very wise or profitable.
You know you exist. You know you think — oh ! ever so
little, but you do think. Great heavens ! what are all these
newspapers and magazines but flattering appeals to your powers
of mind and thought. You know there are other beings and
things around you — real people and real things. And your
phenomenon of hunger will not be appeased by anything but a
real dinner, any more than your possible phenomenon of im-
pecuniosity will be satisfied with anything other than real
money, if you can get it.

But go to any of the department stores of manufactured
philosophies; and presto — you are not any longer satisfied with
anything whatever; nor sure that even your soul is your own.

too

THOUt

[Oct.,

III.

The pity of it is not only that the half-understood specu-
lations, good and bad» which men of ability construct around
some hint of very abstruse truth, which has carried themselves
away to drifting conclusions, become substituted for our more
direct intuitions. But that in losing these and absorbing the
others in every insinuated form from a thousand channels —
changing our mental vision, our natural speech, and our native
criterions of common sense, we lose all taste for sound philoso-
phy ; we even come to distrust the very name, and to forget
that we were born with any philosophy at all.

The philosophy which reassures us of the validity of human
reason, of the certitude oi any belief, of the reality of things
around us, of the substantiality of a spirit within us, the vera-
city of consciousness and conscience, and the verity of our re-
sponsibility and accountability — that philosophy is worse than a
Cinderella left at home. No prince of us all — and we are all
princes of unknowing or uncaring — will even try to fit her
slipper, even to our poor common dressed and common sense
native philosophy,

IV.

It would be an interesting, and perhaps not so unprofitable
an enterprise, if in regard to the main subjects of thought and
of life, some one would rule out parallel columns showing un- ■
der the different heads the fundamental pronouncements of each
school — leaving a blank column for entries of common sense _
and common belief. I

The idealist, the materialist, the associationalist, the rela-
tivist, the agnostic — what entertaining (when intelligible) decla-
rations they would exhibit concerning our common concepts of
men and things, mind and thought, free will and virtue, law and
responsibility, origin and destiny, cause and effect, substance
and phenomenon, consciousness and personality, reality and _
certitude — truth and goodness. |

To see in juxtaposition and parallel columns with our com-
mon words and notions, the statements of various schools ; the
pure ideologist declaring that there is no certainty in the ob-
jectivity of things outside of us; the transcendentalist, of one
kind, that being and not-being are the same thing and both

1903]

Thoughts on PHiLosdpky.

101

unrcaJ ; the materialist that ideas are mere brain- secrdfonsp
the relativist that " mind and nervous action are simply sub-
jective and objective faces of the same thing"; and finally the
associationalist that "self" is "a series of feelings conscious of
itself as a series."

Yes. Every one of us has a natural philosophy — even if it
be only a'pocket-edition, and pretty poor-looking from ill-usage.
If we might only restore ourselves to that, as preliminary to a
fresh glance at the world around us and the spirit within ; as
an anti-toxin against the half-hatched microbes with which
every page of journals, magazines, novels, and current litera-
ture has become permeated by systems which, whatever of
truth they contain, squirm all over to avoid pronouncing the
names of soul and God.

Oh! to return at least to that native philosophy, to the
natural ideas, the rational instincts and intuitions whereby we
pronounced some things to be real, some truths to be certain,
some acts to be wicked ; and ourselves sure to give an account
of Our uses of mind, will, and life. To that philosophy where-
by in hope or in anguish, in life and at death, our lips sin-
cerely and humbly lisp the words:

Deus meus ! Oh, my God I

\z% <\

SCHOLASTIC PHILOSOPHY.

The gift of synthesis is rare, as criticism is proverbially
easy. As the vision flies back over the slowly-covered ground
of human speculation, how few are the names of constructive
genius, inaugurating or epitomizing whole eras in the march
ifld direction of that speculation.

From Descartes to Kant seems but a day's journey ; and
back from our day to Kant hardly a stone's-throw. Yet the
impetus given by the latter has led human thought from
idealism run wild, through materialism run amuck; and into
the little-less dismal swamps of a hopeless agnosticism. Until
•gain rays of a new idealism seem breaking out under cover
of his name and teaching.

The twentieth century opens up within Catholic ranks with

I02 ••. :. '.Thoughts on Philosophy. [Oct.,

^ ai/fsady well-started neo-scholasticisin, taking up the threads
.of Aristotelian and medisval philosophy, and restoring the
continuity of metaphysical speculation where it seemed broken
o£F by Descartes.

It is easy to republish and merely copy ; and perhaps in
some small measure to refurbish and exploit with empty imita>
tion. But where on the horizon is the constructive mind to
mark the new era with a new direction, authoritative in effect
as in name?

II.

The golden age of scholasticism was afterward rendered
sterile by petty casuistries, — if we may coin the word, by
micro-dialectics. With consequent blindness to the continuous
growth of thought and knowledge, of accumulating experience
and reflection, and of the development of the sciences of ob-
servation. And much more, to the changed modalities of
human society and human activities.

Yet in the works of the masters lay the germs of recogni-
tion, of suggestion and of power of assimilation of these
things.

To-day we are confronted with something of a like dan-
ger and a like problem, if the advance of human knowledge,
outside, alongside, or in anywise, is ignored, unavailed of, or
treated as alien — outlawed of hearing or consideration, except
superficial and hostile.

Quite to the contrary in attitude and deeper substance is
the true trend of that philosophy which we prefer to call
Classic — the continuous and Catholic philosophy which takes
account of and assimilates, not only whatever of truth and
good may have gone before, but all coexisting and contem-
poraneous effort to give intelligent and scientific answer, as far
as humanly possible, to the mysteries of life, substance and
being; of self and world and God.

III.

It is perhaps in their total breach of continuity with older
systems and ancient truths, their philistine and provincial
ignorance and disregard of the great past, that most radically
err in starting point the numerous " isms " which have made
of philosophy, as of religion, instead of a unity, a noun of

'903]

THOUGHTS ON PHILOSOPHY.

103

multitude; and of the highest and noblest domains of human
thought a science of nescience.

Mere newness is muddled together in lieu of synthesis, or
patched into mechanical agglomeration under the name of as-
sociation ; whereas the very essence of synthesis is to be
organic, and infused with living and real unity.

The true way, indeed, is not the easy one of eclecticism.
Eclecticism is not synthesis, any more than a bundle, irrespec-
tive of its contents, U an organic unity. The biologic princi-
ple alone spells life. Eclecticism is a mere museum of dry
bones; while synthesis is a living organism of dynamic energy
as well as static matter.

IV.

There is little danger, however, of an eclecticism from the
outside, which will take in Aristotelian and scholastic philoso-
phy. That philosophy holds to-day this peculiar position, that
errant sisters have no wish, and seemingly no hope, of adapt-
ing their categories to hers. And while perpetually shifting
their own ground in some new shuffle of names and concepts,
they ever fight shy of the principles which might save them
from a diversified, but always recurrent, agnosticism.

The antinomies of certitude and uncertainty at least seem
to believe in their mutual antagonism.

But may it not devolve upon the clearer sight and surer
hand of the elder sister to lean out a little, and seek if in
their wanderings the others may not have gathered some fruits
and flowers by the wayside ; if some of their new categories
luve not meanings of information, of assimilation and of truth "i

Perhaps a fuller study in the light of modern investiga-
tion of the theory of ideas and their coerciveness on the
human mind ; less exclusiveness of pure dialectics as against
other channels and powers of mind in arriving at truth ; a
greater recognition of the province of Will and the appetitive
faculties in relation to Intellect ; greater allowance for the
ethical and aesthetic faculties and the intuitions of the heart
as against abstract logistics; an enlarging of the Aristotelian
tlieory of induction, more in harmony with prevailing processes
and habits of men in acquiring their knowledge and convtc-

tp4

Thoughts on Philosophy.

Oct

tions; better assimilation of the results of sciences of observa-
tion, physical and psychological; modtfication in terminology
and methodology better adapted to case of understanding and
natural appealingness, and closer to the habits of language and
thought of the age. Is there not reason to add : some change
in an undefinable modality of seeming antagonism to triumph-
ant and rightly cherished modern principles, individual, politi-
cal, social, and economic; to fly in face of which is to shut
the very doors of hearing, and the very " wish to believe," in
the mind, heart, and conscience of the inquiring, striving, and
progressive modern world.

In brief : scholastic philosophy, like all human science,
however sound in its substantial tenets, must be modernized in
presentation and perfected by assimilation of whatever light
and truth the human mind and race may have appropriated —
or it must rot.

VI.

This classic, continuous, organic, Catholic philosophy h
on its side — if it will but seek to make itself understood, and
if it will but wish to. make itself loved — the natural philosophy
of the human mind.

It is the philosophy of reality, of certitude, of conscious-
ness, of conscience and of common sense. It holds the cre-
dentials of the continuity, solidarity, and of the actual working
and living postulates of the race. Its empire is Catholic,
and itself is the capital and fortress of faith in true uni-
versals of knowledge and science. It has the weapons of
precision and clear analysis as well as an unapproached co-
herency and consistency of synthesis. It proclaims and de-
fends both the validity of reason and the necessity to us of
sense — experience. It holds fast to and substantiates the high-
est and noblest categories of thought to which the human
mind, : however indistinctly, still for ever clings. It furnishes
the rational groundwork for all that is best, most elevating
and inspiring in nature, character, conduct, belief, hope, and
aspiration.

It is indissolubly linked — and humanity realizes it more and
more^ age by age, with one sporadic effort after the other — with
the supremest affirmation given to man to lisp, to live and
hope by: the name of God. It is the human door to Faith.

1, — It was a happy thought to put together the chief en-
cyclicals* of Leo XIII. in a convenient volume like the one
before us. For there is a great wealth of Christian wisdom in
the late Pontiff's letters to the modern world ; a wisdom which
wc need to learn if family and state and the salvation of the
individual are to be placed beyond the perils now besetting
them. The Encyclicals on the Christian Constitution of States,
on Christian Marriage, on Christian Citizenship, and on the
Duties of Labor, with their clearness of principle, loftiness of
tone, and sureness of authority come upon the turbulence of
our social restlessness as the voice of old that ordered the tem-
pest upon the lake to be still. And for high standards of devotion
there are the really great letters on the Holy Spirit, the Holy
Eucharist, and on Christ the Redeemer. Finally, to mention
the Encyclicals which testify to Leo's affectionate desire to do
what he could for the illumination of those outside the church,
wc have the pronouncements on Christian Unity and Anglican
Orders, and his most consoling letter to the American hierarchy
in which he gives his solemn approval to our missions to the
non-Catholics of this country.

Perhaps some will think that it would have been well to
omit the Encyclical on Freemasonry from this selection. The
document aims throughout at conditions so unquestionably
European that there is room for considering it unentitled to
a place in a book like the present one. Father Wynne's intro-
duction is very well done and very eulogistic. Perhaps, how-
ever, it is a little extreme to declare: "If to-day a Brunetiere,
without fear of contradiction, can proclaim science bankrupt, it
is in a great measure because Leo's Encyclical on the study of
St. Thomas and scholastic philosophy inspired Catholic scientists,
and through their influence non- Catholic scientists as well, to
study both theology and science more ardently, systematically,
and conservatively, and with such success in reconciling their
apparent disagreements that the best scientists of our day recog-
nize how each is but a study from a different aspect of the
same great First Cause."

• Tkt Grrat Encjrclical UlUn ofLto XIII. With Preface by Rev. John J. Wynne, S.J.
New York : Denziger Drothers.

loff Views and Reviews. [Oct,

2 — Father Coppcos, S.J., in giving his latest production*
to the public adds a worthy book to relig^ious literature. The
study of the Catholic religicm ordinarily is a labor to the non-
Catholic wishing to go below the small catechism, for the
very sight of the tomes of theologians should make him
tremble. Yet it is safe to say he could be satisfied with a
small volume skilfully condensing in itself the proofs for, and
an account of the historic development of. Catholic doctrines.
The book in hand was not compiled to supply the need to
which we refer, but is intended as a guide to teachers and
students of the Catholic religion ; yet it was our fancy while
reading The Systematic Study of Religion, that many an
educated non- Catholic would be spared precious hours wasted
in delving into book shelves were he to meet with this work
in the begrlnning of his doubts about his own faith. As a text
book it is excellent — concise, fresh,, and free from the dry,
formal method which makes the student's task uninteresting.
The truths relating to the church are synthesized under three
heads, namely: the Teaching and Authority of the Catholic
Church, the Doctrines of the Catholic Church, and the Duties
of Catholics. The logical sequence of the divisions of the
work is worthy of praise. The student and the teacher of re-
ligion should be thankful for the labor removed from their
shoulders bbook we would wish omitted. It attempts

1903.]

V/EWS AND REVIEWS.

113

to build up a formal argument for the church, but it is fan-
Uitic and pitiably weak. In conclusion we congratulate the
Irish Catholic Truth Society on bringing out such a volume.
It will do great good.

9, — Granted a little sympathy, a willingness to think with
the author, a not too great aversion for Catholic truth and
Citholic practices, a not too strong prejudice for Protestantism,
and this little book, Back to Rome* will prove very acceptable
to those outside the church. The writer throws together many
of the attractions of Catholic life and truth, presenting them
in very pleasant language. The reading is easy, the style is
agreeable, the quotations — they are numerous — are to the point,
and the thought is not seldom either new or newly prestnted.

For instance, here is an idea that deserves place in many
a solider discussion of the spiritual difficulties of modern so-
ciety. We take it from the fetter on Confession :

" You may smile at what must, at first sight, appear a
very eccentric and startling idea, but I am thoroughly con-
vinced that those wretched and weary-looking persons who
are supposed to be suffering from ' nerves,' who fly from one
place to another for change of air and change of scene, are,
as a matter of fact, morally and not physically ill, and that
what they want is not bodily but spiritual treatment. Their
souls are diseased and out of sorts, and they will never re-
cover until they have discovered what is really amiss with
tlieni. My impression is, that confession and absolution would
cure many of them."

Many illuminating thoughts such as these, whethtr of the
author's own or from the minds of the illustrious nren who
are generously quoted, are to be found in this book. "Sctu-
tator" has also done us the service of taking up and clearing
iway a great many of the lighter matters that go so Iht in
hindering non-Catholics from really coming to the central
points in the claims of the church. Catholics will eoji«y the
volume; non-Catholics, if, as we said in the beginning, they
can bring to the reading of it a little sympathy with the
church, will surely profit by it, and it may easily be \hn\ by
this means the modest volume inay, in not a few cases, justily
its title — Back to Rome.

'Sofi to ff*m*. A terif> oi private leiKrs, etc.. addr«ssctl tu an Anglican Clergyman, by
"Scruimof." Si. Louis: B, Herder.
VOL. LXXVin. — 8

iT^^^^^^^f^/EfVS AND KEVIEWS^^^^ [Oct,

10 — This little work • purports to be a translation into
modern musical notation of the " Ordinary of the Mass," ac-
cording to the Solesmes edition of the Graduale,

The chief obstacles to the spread of Plain Chant are, first,
the peculiar notation in which it is written ; and second, that
the notation when mastered gives no indication whatever of
the pitch at which the music is to be sung. As those to
whose lot it falls to teach Plain -Chant are generally musicians
who have been brought up exclusively on the ordinary nota-
tion of music, it follows that any attempt to teach such per-
sons Plain-Chant must be made through the medium with
which they are acquainted. Modern notation deals with the
absolute pitch of sounds; by which is meant, that each line
or space of the musical staff represents one musical sound,
which is called after one of the first seven letters of the alpha-
bet The musician has also learned that each of the keys of
his instrument is also called by orie of the same seven letters,
and that when he sees a note on a line or space, all he has
to do is to strike the key which has the same name as the
note on the staff. Though modern music recognizes only two
scales, the major and the minor, yet there are with regard to
position on the staff fifteen different ways of writing either
scale, and consequently of any melody written in that scale.

The notation of Plain- Chant deals only with the relative
pitch of sounds; which means that each note on the staff has
a certain fixed relation with a note whose name is fixed by a
cUf. There are two of these clefs, called the " do " and "fa"
clefs. If we take the do and the fa clefs to mean C and F
respectively, we will find that some of the melodies are too
high for our singers and others are too low. The shape of a
note in either notation gives an idea of its duration. The
notes in Plain-Chant have no absolute duration; they depend
entirely upon the syllables to which they are sung. The notes
in modern notation have an absolute duration; thus, a white
note without a stem has exactly twice the duration of a white
note with a stem, and a black note with a mark across its
stem has exactly half the duration of a black note which has

no mark across its stem. As the modern musician has been

•

schooled through the whole of his musical life into giving

* KyriaU stu Ordinarivm Miaarum in recentioris mitxicit notulai Iramlaiitm. Rome-
Tournai : Dc5cl(*c, Lefebvrc & Soc.

1903.]

ViEivs.AND Reviews.,

lis

these exact values to the various notes, it follows that modern
notes with fixed values are not the proper signs to represent
the notes of Plain-Chant, which have no fixed values.

It seems, then, that the only feasible way in which Plain«
Chant can be translated into a semblance of modern notation,
is to retain the square notes of Plain-Chant and place them on
the modem staff at a pitch suitable to the average choir-
singer.

In the present work, the author has taken the " do "
clef to mean C, on the third space of the treble staff. On
the very first page we find the " Asperges me" ascending to
G above the fifth line — a sound which can be reached by
some sopranos and tenors only ; while a little further on in
the book we have in the " Mass of the Blessed Virgin Mary "
a compass of two complete octaves ; from A below the staff
to A above it.

This is bad enough ; but we are expected to read also an
extra line of characters placed above the notes. The modern
musician has been taught that a dot placed over a note makes
it short (staccato). Our author uses the dot aver a note to
lengthen it. Again: the sign of the tnordente, which means a
group of three notes accented on the first, is here used over a
note to show that it is to be sung as one very short note.
The tie is also improperly used in the Case where three notes
arc used to signify one long note; one tie is placed over the
three notes, whereas two should be used ; from the first to the
second and from the second to the third.

If there is one thing more than another which distin-
guishes Plain- Chant from modern music, it is the absence of
measured time ; yet in this work each piece is marked for the
Metronome ! We fancy that a musician sitting at his piano
with this book and a metronome for his guides would get a
very queer idea of Plain-Chant.

11 — M. Auguste Sabatier at the time of his death in 1901
**8 dean of the faculty of Protestant theology in the Univer-
'•ty of Paris, and the greatest theologian among the sectarians
<^f France, He was a Unitarian, and considered it inadmissi-
l^le to formulate any other doctrinal propositions than those
affirming the fatherhood of God, the brotherhood of man. and
the moral pre-eminence of Christ. Consequently we may anie-

cedently understand his position in this brochure * on the doc-
trine of atonement. He places the whole value of our Lord's
death in its moral beauty as an act of heroism. He admits in
it no expiatory value whatsoever. Conscious that in maintain-
ing such a position he has some very troublesome texts of
Scripture to deal with, he devotes a good part of this pam-
phlet to procuring a way out of the prima facie meaning of these
texts. The whole Pauline teaching is an insistence on the
atoning value of our Lord's death ; so are the Joannine writings;
and so are many words of our Lord Himself as reported in
the Synoptic Gospels. " The Son of Man is come to give
his life as a ransom for many " ; " This is my blood which
shall be shed for many unto the remission of sins/' are texts
which express vicarious atonement about as clearly as human
language can ; and M, Sabatier's summary disposal of this
testimony only serves to discover the untenableness of his
thesis. The more New Testament study is cultivated, the surer
it becomes the religion of Christ is indissolubly bound to defin-
ite doctrinal propositions, of which the atoning value of our
Lord's death is one of the chief. Mystery there always will
be in the hoiv of atonement, but the fact of it is written large
in the New Testament. M. Sabatier makes great matter out
of the diversities in the explanation of the atonement which
from age to age have characterized Christian theology ; but
that atonement itself by the passion and death of Christ is an
essential part of the Christian religion, he makes but a very

.unsuccessful attempt to deny. And obviously, if the fact must
be conceded, we need not be troubled by the insufficiency of
this or that academic theory deduced from the fact.

M. Sabatier, too, is in error in supposing that the atone-
ment-doctrine is weakened by recent discoveries which throw
fresh light upon the book of Genesis. For the religious teach-
ing of that book is beyond the assault of howsoever hostile a
science; and no matter what modification be introduced into
the traditional exegesis ad literam^ the doctrine of the creation,
the fall, and the Redeemer to come are clearly there, as the

. soul and substance of the book ; and such will they remain
despite any change of attitude on our part toward the Biblical
style and manner of expressing them.

' Lx Dtctrint dt r Bxfuttion et son ^viution Historiqift. Par Augusts Sabwtier. Pahs ;
Libreirir Pischbacher.

Naturally in this work there are signs of great ability.
The historical sketch of atonement-theology is a good summary
of a wide field, though unsatisfactory, both because nearly all
summaries are unsatisfactory, and because of the prepossessions
of the author. The style is clear and fluent, and the spirit in
the main is gentle, tolerant, and conciliating. The pamphlet
would furnish a good exercise in refutation for the theological
classes of our seminaries.

12. — Macaulay once said of Dryden that he was entitled to
a first place in the second rank of writers. We feel that we
may say something of the kind concerning Mr. William Samuel
Lilly, of Cambridge. Among the writers who follow the
thought of great men, and do the work of setting forth that
thought in living, popular literature, he must be acknowledged
a leader. A commendation such as this may be thought a left-
handed compliment; Mr. Lilly we know would rather be a
genuine **auctor" than a " tedacteur" but those who have fol-
lowed his writings will probably agree with our location of
him, and we mean him, moreover, no disrespect. He is doing
a necessary work and doing it skilfully ; and if he falls short
of the one distinguishing test of genius, which is creative
power, he ought to deem it no mean glory to be high in the
ranks of those few who are in possession of the talent of in-
terpreting and explaining to the general world what is the out-
standing thought of the masters.

Now, Mr. Lilly is an able apologist for the church. Apolo-
gist and historian too, for the characters, in spite of many
fatal examples, are not incompatible. In fact, the truth that a
^ood historian, a man not afraid of the truth, can be a capital
*poIogist, is demonstrated in this volume,* Christianity and
Civilization,

The essays have, for the greater part, been printed before;
some of them in magazines, some in a previous book, Chapters
"» European History. The best of them is perhaps that on the
pontificate of Gregory VIL, "The Turning-point of the Mid-
<ile Ages." Here Mr. Lilly is singularly strong in description,
and broad in his grasp of the epoch. A dreadful epoch it
*4S — that preceding the accession of Hildebrand — and our

* Ckrutianity and Modtm CivUitalwii ; bcini; some chapters in Luropean History, wild an
'""wluctory chiipler on the Philosophy o( History. By W. S. Ltlly. London : CbApman &
*^'»" Si. Louis: 8. Herder.

TtS

V/Eft^ AND REVIEWS.

[Oct.,

writer spares nothing oi its ghastly scandals. One is almost
tempted to explain as he goes along through Mr. Lilly's vivid,
almost photographic reproduction of the scandals of that age
of the Papacy, " an enemy is doing this." But no, the enemy
is a friend, and a better friend because he deals with the foe
in a wiser, if a bolder, way than many a more loudly- proclaimed
friend might do. His invitation to "look on this side" is
discomforting, but, unlike the mother in the play, we are reas-
sured when he says "and on this." Lights and shadows are
here indeed, but the lights come last and are strongest — such
is the theme of this apologist.

Take again the chapter on the " Inquisition." Mr. Lilly's
cold-blooded exposure of the authentic mode of procedure of
the Inquisition, his nonchalant agreement with many of the
wont charges of the enemies of the church, and further than
this, hi» apparent discovery of weapons that they had not
known, and might have used with savage force — all this is
rnther startling, and we wonder as we read whether, having
ndmitted so much of evil, he can yet make the good pre-
dominate, and bring the church unscathed through many an
afiparentiy fatal situation. And the truth is that he does suc-
ceed, not by subtilty, nor even by strategy, but by an honest
Inilstcnce upon principles — in this case the principle of the
inevitable influence of the world upon the church, an influence
that, though undoubted, is not destructive, nor capable of dis-
proving the least of the claims of the church.

Much of Mr, Lilly's success in thus extricating himself and
his cause comes from his judicious application of the dicta of
greater than he, masters hostile or friendly. And throughout
he displays a most conspicuous ability to write interestingly,
to handle large questions comprehensively, and to impart to the
ordinary reader a deal of information, of history, of philosophy,
and withal he seems not to warp the truth in fitting it to a
very smooth and graceful literary style.

13 — This interesting story,* which will be welcomed by boys
oi the junior college type, reads like a true history, and one
wonders, with such an abundance of material, that the writer
ha« been so matter-of-fact and wanting in enthusiasm, some-
times even to the point of dryness. The book treats of the

■ Wilfrid Swe»i. By Rev. Walter Leaher.

1903.]

Views and Reviews.

119

life-story of two boys, Wilfred and Basil, who start with few
advantages, but with kind friends, who eventually send them
to college. The college, St. Mary's, Belmont, N. C , is well
described. The Benedictine Bishop and Abbot, Leo and
" Prater Aloysius," are painted to the life, but the fire which
ds/astated this institution, as well as the "earthquake in
Charleston," both events being fresh in memory, might have
b:eo more graphically pictured.

The boys, however, continue their studies; but Wilfred loses
heart before he graduates, returns home, and in a very short
tiiTie is engaged to be married to a Miss Hilda O'Farreli, and
writes to this effect to his friend Basil. But Wilfred does not
marry on account of a dream he reads in his paternal friend's
MSS, Breaking olT the engagement, he returns to college to
study in the seminary for the priesthood, Basil then returns
home, and ere long marries the same Hilda O'Farreli. She is
killed on their wedding trip, and he returns to the stminaiy,
and both friends are finally ordained priests. There is a
rapidity in the narrative which brings the climax on, with sur-
prising quickness, in a few pages. The book will find friends,
no doubt, and will figure prominently on the premium table.
It is eminently Catholic and holds several useful lessons. *

14. — Whether as a text-book for Catholic colleges or a
hand-book for the student in libraries, the new and revised
edition of "Jenkins," by Father Viger, is valuable. All who
have read this excellent work will acknowledge its good taste
and usefulness. The volume* is composed particularly for
Catholic students, and great care has been taken to point out
the works of authors that are hostile to faith or morals. But
by far the greater portion of our classical English is peimeated
by the spirit of Protestantism ; it has been hard to discrimi-
nate in every instance, but no hand-book that we know has
done better, and few as well. High schools and academies
should give ready welcome to this volume, as it is brought
quite to date in its present form. Most of the latest authors,
many of them living, are fairly discussed, and extracts from
their best works given. We bespeak for this new edition of
Jenkins' Literature the wide-spread and increased circulation
which it deserves.

*JtnMnt' Tkf Studint s Handbook #/ Britith and Amtritan LUtrtture. Revised and
"•^wtition !))• ki-v, G, li. V'lgTT, .\.M., S.S. BaUiraorf. John Mun>liy,

t20

Views and Revtei^.

[Ocfc,-

15 — The graceful muse of Miss Skidtnore is known thousands
of miles from her home beside the Western Sea, and this lit-
tle volume* adds sweetness to her fame. Many of the poems ,
are rich with sentiments of tender piety, and will not fail tof
find lovers in Christian hearts. The beautiful old legends,
musically versified, are particularly charming, and might be
read aloud with profit by the fireside, in the home circle, or
'in the schoolroom; they would cheer the invalid's sick-room,
and drop seeds of precious holy thought in innocent minds.
We mention particularly The Silver Dove ; A Legend of the
Weeping Willow; The Monk Fernando; The Mission of the
Mignonette ; The Ballad of Frau Bertha ; and The Rosary ol\
Flowers.

The book is daintily bound in gray with a tinted sketch oa
the cover. Most attractive is the volume as a birthday or

Christmas gift. \

•

I. — TIIK NEW VOLUMES OF THE ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA.

VOL. IL (xxvi.)t
This volume contains, notably, an introductory essay on " Re-
cent Political Progress " by Professor Edward Dicey, C.B., who
finds that the manifold " tendencies of human thought, policy, and
statecraft in the last quarter of the nineteenth century," if they
must be named in a word, may best be described as indicating a
general conservative reaction. The gentleman, naturally enough,
but we imagine unwisely, concentrates his attention mostly oa
the conditions existing in England and on the Continent. He is,
apparently, not of those who are impressed with the growing
preponderance of the United States among the exponents of
"human thought, policy, and statecraft." He despatches us ial
about the same amount of space as that which he concedes to
Japan. But the essay is most thoughtful and otherwise quite
comprehensive. The writer at the end of his essay states that
the last thirty years of the nineteenth century proved to the 1
most ardent of the educationalists that mental instruction is
not the only thing needed to raise the moral, intellectual, and

* Rtadsidt Plcv/tn : A Book of Vtrtt. By Harriet M. Skidmore. San Francisco. CaL:
A. M. Robertson.

t Tkt Ntm Volumts of Ih* Emcycl^KtdU BritoMnica. Con&ritutitig, in combination with ihr
existing volumes of the Ninth Kiiilion, the Tenth Edition of that work, and also supplving •
Dcw, distinctive, and independent Library o{ Reference, dealing v/ith Recent Events and
Developments. Vol. \\, forming vol. xxvi, of the complete wor^. New York : Encyclopaedia
Bi^tannica Company.

1903.]

VfSJVS AND REVIEWS.

121

material status of the masses. The writer evidently agrees
with this, and it is a most interesting statement, taken par-
ticularly in the light of the recent words of Sir Norman Lock-
y«r, President of the British Association for the Advance-
ment of Science, in his Southport address. Sir Lockyer argued
that the one great need of England was brain-power.

But this is a digression; yet it will prove the entertaining
nature of this opening essay.

The rest of the volume is a continued evidence of the high
standard of the Britannica. The names of many of our coun-
trymen are among its contributors: Carroll D. Wright, on
"Building Societies"; Walter F. Wilcox, on the "Census";
Charles F. Lummis, on " California " ; Bishop Lawrence, on
" Phillips Brooks " ; ex Postmaster Smith, on " James G.
Blaine"; Professor Sloane, of Columbia University, on ."Ban-
croft," the historian ; Joseph JefTerson, on " Edwin Booth " ;
Dr. Lyman Abbott, on " Henry Ward Beecher " ; and others.
Add to this that articles on two American cities, " Balti-
more" and "Boston," appear, and that even the national game
of "Base-ball" finds place in this same volume, and it will
be seen that the Britannica is opening its eyes to things American.
la biography, besides the articles already mentioned, there
is One on " Bismarck " that is irreproachable in its discussion
of his relations with the church ; one on " Browning." and one
on " Carlyle," by Leslie Stephen; on "John Bright," and on
"Lord Beaconsfield," by Frederick Greenwood. Archaeology
i* represented by an illuminating article on ** Babylonia," by
Professor Sayce; Christian Antiquity, by an article on the
"Canons of Hippolytus"; there is a discussion of " Bacteri-
ology of Cancer " ; of " Bimetallism " ; and of " Buddhism," by
Rhyo Davids; "Canada," by G. M. Dawson. These are surely
enougli to make this second of the new volumes a noteworthy one.

2. — DR. CLARKE'S LIFE OF LEO."

There was probably no layman in this country so well
equipped to write a life of the late Pontiff as Richard H.

*Jkt U/f */ His Holintss, P»f* Leo XJU.WicAr of Jesui Christ and BUhop of Rome ;
j*»««wr of St. Pcirr, Pnncc of the .Apostle* ; Supreme Pontiff of the Universal Church,
TOIarrK ..f •'-.■West, Pnmate of Itiily, Archbishpp and Metropolitan of tl)c Koman Pro-
J"' n of thi" Trmpoml Dominions of tnc Holy fJatholic trhurch ; together with

'"' ••-< PuturaN and Encyclicals. By Richikrd H. Clarke. LL.D., Author of Uves

« the Hiiij,_,|,s of the Catholic Church in the United States, etc. Fully Illustrated. Philadel-
Jw. P. W. Zi«glcr & Co.

T32

VIEWS AND REVIEWS.

[Oct.

Clarke. His many biographies of deceased prelates have giveir^
him a skill and experience in estimating at their proper valuer
the lives of ecclesiastical personages, and his historical sens^^
has eniibled him to measure their influence on their day andK=
generation. It is natural that he should be selected to writer
an important life of Leo, and he has done it well.

Ten years has he spent in gathering material, in studying^
cnrefully contemporaneous events, in weighing the influence of '^
movements and measures, and the portrait that he has painted ^
in well rounded and perfect in its many details

Of course the time has not come as yet to write a severely
critical biography of Leo. The measure of his enduring great-
neia can only be judged accurately in the perspective of history.
On the other hand a biography that is a mere eulogy is
thrown aside as worthless. Dr. Clarke has held a just mean
between the two extremes, and has presented Leo to us with
dliccrnment and historical sagacity.

The relations of Leo with the church in the United States
receives an extended treatment, probably for a double reason.
I)r. Clarke knew that this portion of his subject would more
readily interest American readers; and for a second important
reavon : he was thoroughly acquainted with the influence of
Leo's measures on the church in the United States. His esti- ■
(nate, therefore, of the controversy on " Americanism " is
peculiarly just. Particularly is he emphatic on the point that
whatever reason may have existed elsewhere for the Letter of ■
ihe Holy Father, there was no " rift in the lute " when it
was a question of the loyalty or orthodoxy of the American
Cftthulics, as the Holy Father himself testified in no uncertain
way in his later letter to the bishops. In his letter he said :

" If we found pleasure in the state of things which pre-
vailed among you when we first entered upon the charge of
the Supreme Apostolate, now that we have advanced beyond
twenty-four years in the same charge, we are constrained to M
confess that our first pleasure has never been diminished, but
on the contrary has increased from day to day by reason of
tha increase of Catholicity among you." ■

Anoilicr merit of this biography is the fact that it in-
cludes all the particulars of Leo's death and burial. There are
Sufue blemishes in the proof-reading that in such a work are
iinp^icdonable ; as, for examples, in the spelling of names of

1903.] Views and revieivs. 123

American bishops: Bourke for Burke, Nerez for Neraz, O'Day
for OTicAj Kinney for Kenny, and others. In the illustra-
tions a picture of Archbishop Hennessy is given as the pres-
ent Archbishop of Dubuque. A little more care on the part
of the publishers might have avoided these mistakes,

3. — INDULGENCES, THEIR USE AND ABUSE.*

The present volumes form the first French edition of the
classical work of Father Lepicier, originally written in Italian.
The work has been for some time translated into English, is
well known to many readers, and has received universal praise.
In its present form, however, the work has been much
augmented and contains an additional preface by the author.
The work of H. C. Lea, which has received considerable
notoriety, and which makes bold claims for erudition but never
attains it, was the occasion in part for this new publication.
However, all who know this work of Father Lepicier at all
will gladly welcome this latest result of his labors and rejoice
to know that it has been translated into still another language.

Father Lepicier handles his subject after the manner of a
true scholar. His references are always to first authorities and
to most reliable ones ; he goes into the depths of every sub-
ject; he leads the reader logically and safely to the funda-
mental questions revealing to him the extent to which indul-
gences are related to the most vit^l points of Catholic faith.
To many Catholics this subject of indulgences may seem but
a superficial one, and perhaps it is their ignorance in the matter
which leads them into so many mistaken and oftentimes grave
abuses. It is well known that Protestants have long found
indulgences a great stumbling-block to the Catholic faith;
and not infrequently the ignorance of Catholics, their utter in-
ability to explain a very common factor in their religion, causes
that obstacle to remain. And yet the doctrine and the granting
of indulgences is but an immediate logical outcome of the central
truth of Christianity — the redemption of mankind by Jesus
Christ

We insert these remgu'ks in order to show the timeliness and
the utility of the present work. Father Lepicier's volumes are

* La Indulgencts: Leur Origine, Uur Naturt, leur Develo^tmtnt. Par le R. P. Alrxis M.
Leplder. Translated from Uie Italian. Two vols. Paris : P. Lethielleux. 1902

124 y/£lVS AND REVIEWS. [Oct

suitable for the theologian and the layman, for the Catholic
and the non- Catholic The author, as we have said, treats the
whole matter comprehenriveljr. - He beg^s with the nature of
sin - and of good works, the culpability of the former, the
nature of penance, the superabundant merits of Jesus Christ,
and the communion of saints. In the second chapter he enters
into the rational foundation of indulgences, the degrees of
vicarious suffering, the true nature of an indulgence, and the
origin of this expression in the Church. From this he pro-
ceeds to the indulgences for the dead; their infallible applica-
tion, in which opinion he differs from some theologians ; and
thea treats of indulgences as regards Scripture and tradition.
The second part of the first volume goes into a field of church
history which has been worked over many times — that of peniten-
tial discipline. The author shows himself well acquainted with
its literature, and gives most interesting and instructive essays on
the early practices with regard to penitents, their reconciliation,
the treatment of the lapsi, the definitions of the early councils,
early pilgrimages, etc. The historical argument by which he
proves that through all ages the granting and gaining of in-
dulgences have been the practice of .Christendom is one of the
best treated and most forcible of the work.

The second volume treats of the development of indulgences,
first from the tenth to the fifteenth century, after that of the
Crusades and the indulgences attached to them, of the Great
Jubilee of I3(X>, of many succeeding ones and of their extension;
and approaching the sixteenth century, he writes' of the use
and the abuse of indulgences, then a history of the revolt
the doctrine of Luther and his conduct, and of the providence
of God with regard to the church. The work closes with a
chapter that brings the history up to date, that draws a lesson
from the philosophy of history, and concludes with a paragraph
on the harmony between the true doctrine of indulgences and
our own human nature.

An excellent index completes the work. We can but pray
that it will be appreciated as. it ought to be, that its readers
will increase in numbers, and particularly that every priest will
take advantage of its treasures.

T'^'' TabUt (8 Aug.): A leader on "The Fate of Douai "
criticises the British Parliamentary leaders for their ap-
parently lax handling of the confiscation of the English
Benedictines' property by the French government at
Dbuai. In the conclusion of an article on " The Bishop
of London and Egbert's Pontifical " is shown the incon-
sistency of the London prelate in regard to the use of
ritual in the Anglican services.

(15 Aug.): Rev. Hugh Pope, O.P., reviews two recent
books treating of the Bible: "Babel and Bible," by
Dr. Fred. Delitzsch, and "First Bible," by Colonel
Conder. Of the first he says that it is a much overrated
book, and accounts for the interest evidenced in it by
the fact that it was delivered in lectures before the
Kaiser, who wrote a public letter concerning it. Of
Colonel Conder's work he speaks in rather approving
terms, and considers it to be of considerable value,
(22 Aug.): A first instalment reviews the Parliamentary
paper containing the story of Lord Lansdowne's sacri-
fice of the British interests at Douai. The Rev. Wil-
frid Lescher, O.P., contributes an article on ** Leo XIIL
and the Scholastic Philosophy," in which he comments
upon the Encyclical "yEterni Patris," and tells what the
late Pontiff did for the world by the Scholastic Philoso-
phy.

At the request of the Bishop of Limerick, is pub-
lished correspondence between the Bishop and Mr.
Philip Sidney of London, arising out of the publication
by Mr. Sidney of an article in the Hibbert Journal con-
taining references to " the sale of bogus relics." The
bishop's stand is that Mr. Sidney was far from being
acquainted with the matter of which he wrote, and that
if such "sale of bogus relics" was carried on it was
done so in secret without the knowledge of ecclesiasti-
cal authorities. The official correspondence of the British
and French governments concerning the English Bene-

Library Table.

[Oct

dictines and Fassionists in France is begun in thi M

issue.

(29 Aug.): Announcement is made of the appointmenr 1

of the Right Rev, Francis Bourne, Bishop of South

wark. to succeed Cardinal Vaughan in the see of West —
minster. An appreciation and short sketch of the new^'
archbishop's life is given.

Wilfrid Ward contributes the first instalment of an^
article entitled "An English Benedictine House," beings
a sketch of a community of Benedictine nuns noW estab- f
lished at Oulton in StafTordshire, England. ^

The Roman Correspondent gives some interesting
items in connection with the election and attitude of
t'ope Pius X,, and reports that Italy is eagerly awaiting
the publication of the first encyclical.
International Journal of Ethics (July): An Emerson Meniorial
meeting was held at the University of Chicago last May,
and two of the papere read on that occasion are given
in this number. In the first, entitled " Emerson — the
Philosopher of Democracy, "^ Professor Dewey, of the
university, deprecates those who would deny to Emer-
son the title of Philosopher, and predicts that " the
coming century may well make evident what is just
dawning, that Emerson is not only a philosopher, but
that he is the Philosopher of Democracy " ; and says
further that " Even the worshippers of that which to-
day goes by the name of success, those who bend to
milHons and incline to imperialisms, may lower their
Htandard, and give at least a passing assent to the final
word of Emerson's philosophy, the identity of Being,
unqualified and immutable, with Character."

In the second article, under th^ heading: " Emer-
tton'jJ Views of Society and Reform," Mr. William M.
Sftlter claims Emerson as being " one of the chief in- J
fliiences for reform in the second quarter of the last
century." After reviewing Emerson's work as a re-
former Mr. Salter thus concludes: "I look for a reli-
|{ion once more that shall believe in the infinite in man,
Ihnl nhull teach the doctrine of the soul, and no one
nukcM Huch and all divine possibilities credible like him
whom we are honoring to-day — Ralph Waldo Emerson."

1903. J Library table. 127

Mr. R. Bren of Birmingham, Eng., in an article on
•• The Ethics of St. Paul," says that " In the ethical
development within the church no teacher counts for
more than Paul." He writes sympathetically of St.
Paul's ethics, and expresses the opinion that: "This
dominant ethical strain of the Apostle keeps him alive,
makes him intelligible for us to-day, .in spite of his
' Jewish accents, of his methods of argument learnt in
the Rabbinical schools. His largeness of manhood ap-
peals to us powerfully. He approaches to modern ways
of thinking at many points."
The Month (Sept.): Fr. Herbert Thurston contributes an in-
teresting article on " Conclaves past and present." The
paper is enriched by some quaint pictures, representing
" the plan " of several . famous conclaves of the past.

The Countess de Courson writes about the long ex-
ile in France of Mary Beatrice of Modena. Sister
Mary Wilfrid, O.S.D., describes her conversion to the
Catholic Church, and the peace and joy she found iii
" the church founded upon the Rock against which no
heresies can prevail, the Visible Church of God with its
Visible Head."

The acts of the Jesuit " consult," held in London on
April 24, 1678, which became in the hands of Titus
Oates a treasonable "consult," at which it was resolved
to kill King Charles II., are given. Needless to say,
nothing except questions concerning the society were
discussed.

A quotation is given from an article in the February
number of the Missionary Herald^ of the Baptist Mis-
sionary Society, by a certain Rev. S. Holman Bentley,
of Walther's Station, Lower Congo, in which the Catho-
lic missionaries laboring in the same field are accused
of immoral teaching. He says : " Many tifnes I have
heard those who have received Roman teaching say
that they would not like to follow our religion, for our
God is too exacting. They as Romanists can do as
they like, so long as they confess to the priests ; our
people cannot lie, steal, live impure lives, dance and
drink; but they have no such restrictions." The in-
trinsic impossibility of this charge is evident from the

128 Library Table. [Oct,

^act that the Misuonary Fathers at Tumbeg are Redemp-
torists, who have never been accused of erring on the
side of laxity.

Annates tU Philosaphie Chritienne (July)-: The recent work of
Pire Lagrange, La Mithode Historiqut h propos de
rAucien Testanunty receives the enthusiastic commenda-
tion of M. Ermoni. The reviewer takes occasion to ap-
plaud the spirit of the great Dominican, who, he says,
in these delicate matters of Scriptural criticism, is
neither too bold nor too conservative — a judgment of
Fdre . Lagrange now becoming generally prevalent. Jos-
eph Leblanc discusses the old question of what Ter*
tullian means by his apparently materialistic view of
the soul. He scruples not to say that even from the
date of the Apohgetkus TertuUian believed in a mate-
rial construction of the human soul, and that, as the
unfortunate African fell away to Montanism, his material-
istic views became more pronounced. M. Turmel gives
a succinct summary of what the patrologists of the day
think of the so-called Epistle of Barnabas. His article
is merely a catalogue of opinions concerning the date,
authorship, and contents of this apostolic writing.

La Quin»aine (i Aug.): In an able article on "The Church
and Present Social Needs" Abb^ Guibert discusses the
position of the Catholic Church in reference to the
needs and tendencies of modern society. In answer to.
' the objection so frequently urged by the enemies of re-
ligion, that the church is opposed to all true progress,
an enemy to the modern spirit of individual liberty, as
well as a menace to the social peace and security, the
. author shows, by a straightforward appeal to the spirit
and teaching of the religion of Christ, as well as to its
history past and present, that the church has always
and above all else proclaimed and upheld the innate
dignity and worth of the individual man, his personal
rights and liberties, and that as in the past, so now
within the Church of Christ is to be found a saving
balm for all the wounds of suffering humanity, a sure
remedy and safe solution for the many evils and per-
plexing problems that beset our modern society.
(i6 Aug.): The continuation of a series of interesting

903.]

Libra RY Table.

129

articles on the marriage question by George Fonsegrive.
Discussing the much-vexed problem of divorce, the
writer points out its alarming increase within the past
half century; the methods employed and arguments
adduced by its advocates, and finally some of the re-
sulting evils that threaten the family, home, and society
itself.

(i Sept.): Writing of the mission of the modern
critic in the field of art, Camille Manclair points to the
necessity of a closer, more sympathetic understanding
between the artist and his judge, as also an increased
sense of responsibility, and greater technical knowledge
of his art on the part of the critic.

In reference to a book recently published by Paul
Thureau-Daugin on the Catholic Renaissance in England,
Adolphe Lair contributes an interesting account of the
Oxford Movement, with a sketch of the principal figures,
Newman, Manning, Wiseman, and concludes by pointing
out, as an encouraging example to the church of France,
the marvellous results achieved in the cause of God
and religion by this handful of earnest men in perfect
sympathy with the intellectual and social life of their
age and country.
l^ Correspondent (10 Aug.): In an article entitled " une grande
grcve Americaine " Albert Gigot gives a brief history of
the late coal strike in Pennsylvania. The author traces
it step by step in its origin, causes, development, and
finally its peaceful and satisfactory settlement by the
commission appointed by President Roosevelt.
(25 Aug.): "France et Angleterre " is an attempt to
explain the causes of the present friendly relations be-
tween France and England. A review of the conditions,
foreign and domestic, of the British Empire plainly shows,
the writer declares, why it is England's interest to be
friendly to France. Referring to the humiliations that
France has suffered at the hands of England in the past,
he advises caution in dealing with this powerful enemy
of the past who now comes bearing the " olive branch
of peace."

htudti (Aug.) : Leonce de Grandmaison begins in this issue
a series of articles on Harnack's Die Mission und

TOt. LXXTIII. — 9

130

Library Table.

[Oct.,

Ausbreitung des Christenthums in den ersten drei Jahrhun-
derUn, in which he proposes to briefly summarize the
leading ideas of that great work, which he believes mani-
fests more than any of Professor Harnack's works his
profound knowledge of ancient ecclesiastical history and
literature, his artful manner of dealing with facts, his
desire to be impartial, and his respect of the character
and virtue of our early fathers in the faith.

Revue du Mondi Invisible (July): Mgi. £lie Meric, continuing
his discussion of the interaction between the human body
and soul, sets forth in detail his theories concerning the
possible existence and function of an electric fluid in the
body, and calls attention to the opinions and observations
of Dr. Jodko, of St. Petersburg, which he thinks sup-
ports his own hypothesis.

The editor calls to the notice of his readers the
detailed account of an apparition given by *' a learned
and pious clergyman," Abbe E. D. It is the story of a
young novice in a convent in France, who is said to
have seen and conversed with a religious who six
months after death appeared to the novice to beseech
her prayers and assistance.

Science Catkolique (Aug.) : Abbe Fontaine finds that Abbe
Loisy's doctrine in r £vangile et P £glise is equally as
rationalistic as that of the Protestant faculty of Paris, the
e.xtreme German rationalizing Protestants, and Matthew
Arnold — whom the writer seems to consider still living.
In his continued study of the Apologetic problem,
M. le Chanoine Gombault exposes the vice of the tradi-
tionalist method. Dr. Surbled follows up his recent
article on the therapeutic value of hypnotism as an aid
in courts of justice.

Amnaies d* Ui PkHosopki4 Ckretitnn* (June): Abbe Desjardins
writes on the manner in which the various vices and
virtues are typified in the architectural monuments of
the thirteenth century, chiefly in France, Abbe Martin
discusses the demonstrative value of prophecy. Under
the heading Dogme et Raisin is to be found a consider-
able correspondence received by the editor in response
to his suggestion that the readers of this periodical
should express their views as to the best means of meet-

1903-]

Library Table.

131

ing the prevalent opposition to all dogma. Though
most of the letters are somewhat wide of the mark, they
are interesting as showing the state of mind prevailing
among many of the French clergy. One writer declares
that in the very large diocese to which he belongs, the
congregation which controls ecclesiastical education there
has, as a preventive measure against heterodoxy, succeeded
in suppressing the teaching of English and German in the
little seminaries. Another writes of the diocesan con-
ferences : Certains de nos confreres, qui n'ont jamais lu
la Bible, prennent des airs de docteur, ils tranchent
toutes les questions, ou plutot ils les eloignent par ccs
mots: rationalisme, negation de la divinite de Jesus-
Christ, Kantianisme, etc.

Kevut Thomiste (July-Aug.) : The professor of moral philoso-
phy in the Catholic Institute supports the thesis that a
demonstrative proof of God's existence may be drawn
from the idea of moral sanction. In Le Surnatntel et
V Apologetique P. Mercier, showing that miracles are the
indispensable proof of the supernatural, the apologist
must beware of ceding so far to rationalistic tendencies
as to depreciate in any way the value of this proof.
R. P. Jansen, C.SS.R., criticises adversely the statement
made by the Civilta Caitolica, that the Holy See favored
probabiliorism so far as to indicate a desire that this
system should finally prevail over probabilism.

£ui Revue Generale : This number opens with a eulogy of Leo
XIII. by Mgr. de T'SercIaes, and a thoughtful review
of the late pontificate by Mgr. Lamy. M. du Bled, in
his paper on the occult sciences, treats principally of
chiromancy in France, and expresses the opinion that
it contains a grain of truth. M. Pety de Thozee dis-
cusses the causes and consequences of the decrease of
the birth rate. There is a very attractive description of
some of the scenery along the lower Rhine and the
Moselle from M. Ferdinand Severin.

Stndi Religiosi (May-June) : Padre Semeria summarizes the
history of the Galileo case. He warns us against two
extreme states of mind regarding it, first that of un-
believers who declare that the incident either com-
promises infallibility or sets the church in opposition to

science. Nothing of the kind follows from the event—
The church's infallibility never was in question, antfll
this isolated error of a congregation of theologians by"
no means fixes the attitude of the church. The other
extreme is that of unwise apologists who dismiss the
whole matter as though due entirely to Galileo's own
perverse insistence, making him out as altogether wrong
and the Index and Inquisition as altogether right.
Galileo's glory, as it was also the cause of his misfor-
tune, was in holding the Copernican theory not only as
a mere possibility, a mathematical hypothesis, but also
as a scientific hypothesis. He lived and died faithful to
the church, and his case is a perpetual warning to theo-
logians that they be not intemperate in preferring the
charge of heresy.

vilta Cattolica (15 Aug.): An article on the meaning and
scope of the Index gives warning against the notion
that because a book is not actually on the Index it may
be read with impunity. The actual list of prohibited
books is small, for the Index-Congregation cannot take
cognizance of every work of evil tendency appearing
from our multitudinous presses. Consequently, in judg-
ing of this matter of doubtful books, one must not con-
sider the question settled by the titles in the catalogue
of the Index, but must go to the general rules laid
down for our guidance by ecclesiastical authority, rules

■ which are solemnly carried out in a certain specified
number of cases by the Congregation of the Index.
These rules are contained in Leo XIII. 's Constitution
" Officiarum ac Munerum," and should be read, in order
that the wider principles of the matter be understood.

xssegna NazionaU (i Aug.): F. Nobili-Vitelleschi, comment-
ing upon a French volume concerning the decadence of
the Latin races, says that not by abandonment of Catholi-
cism, but rather by conforming to the inexorable pro-
gress of the world, will these peoples avoid decay.
T. M., in writing of the United States of America and
the Disunited States of Europe, says that the aesthetes
of old Europe may well pardon a certain carelessness
of form in Americans, who are such lovers of truth and
such fortunate doers of good.

Library Table.

13J

(i6 Aug.) : G. Grabinski writes appreciatively of New-
man's conversion and the Catholic revival in England.
From the Cittadino of Genoa is quoted an interesting
letter about a visit to Tolstoi, by Padre Semeria and
Prof. Minocchi, the Italian scholars.

^86n y Fe (Sept.): P. Amado appeals to the Catholics of
Spain, in the name of national honor and of religion,
to prevent clerical exemption from military service beirg
abolished or restricted. P. Aicardo writes against a
project now on foot to adapt the public instruction on
foreign models, saying that " English, or German, or
French, or Yankee instruction, though good for the peo-
ple of those parts, is unsuited to the Spanish youth,
whose education must reproduce the noble and generous
type of his forefathers,"

Stimmen aus Maria Laach (Aug.): Rev. O. Pfulf, S.J., con-
tributes a most appreciative estimate of the life and
character of Orestes A. Brownson, whom he believes to
be the greatest son that the United States has as yet
given to the church — " An American to the very mar-
row, passionately devoted to the Republic and filled
with pride of its solidity and strength." The writer
treats at considerable length of Dr. Brownson's conver-
sion to Catholicism, and dwells on his ability as a phi-
losopher and polemist, and the influence which he wielded
in these fields in behalf of the church.
Rtvue eUs Questions Scientijique (July): M. le Mis de Nadaillac,
writing on " South Africa," describes the entrance, in
the year 1890, of Cecil Rhodes and his party into what
was then a wild and unknown district. He shows how
wonderful is the transformation which Mr. Rhodes by
his genius and perseverance wrought in that desert in
the heart of Africa, giving a lengthy description of its
condition at present and its prospects for continued
prosperity.

A thrill of pleasure surely has been felt by

Pope Pius X. every Catholic in America at some indica-
tions of the personal disposition of Pope;
Pius X.

His openly expressed dislike to be shut up " in that box"—
the sede gestatoria ; his welcome to the laboring people of
Ro3ie ; his informality of reception in audiences; his lunching!
with his friend Perosi, the musician; his partial suppression of
the Swiss Guard; his ordering of a table '* set for four" to
dine with his secretaries — whatever of absolute exactness these!
reports possess, there is conveyed at any rate a personal ten-
dency towards democratic simplicity which evokes at once a
pleasurable response in the heart of every man born and bred
in the atmosphere of democratic institutions.

No exaggeration is intended either of fact or inference. It
is not to be forgotten that the government of the church, even
humanly, is the exercise of a " world power." The administra-
tion of merely executive functions over three hundred million
persons throughout the entire globe ; in all kinds of countries
and races ; all manner of social and political organizations ;
customs and habits; circumstances and requirements; means
of influence and guidance — all this involves a system of prece-|
dents and order, an intrinsic complexity and importance of
function, which from the natural, physical point of view alone,
demands formality and conservatism of method, at times ob-
noxious in some quarters, and perhaps almost inadequate in
others.

But, on the whole, it is true of this modern age that the
trend of its thought and inclination is democratic, and it ia|
best led and taught by democratic ways. Whatever tends
towirdi our own standards of life and intercourse, of rela-
tion between men as men, if it respects the sacredness of
lawful authority, of office and of function — that surely mustj
elicit the readiest and heartiest response of freemen.

All hail, then, to Pope Pius X. ! The world has welcomed him,
enthusiastically. With triple reverence do we hail the spiritual
powers with which he is endowed by his office — reverence alli

1903.] Comment on Current Topics. 135

the deeper because it goes beyond personality and form to the
spiritual Faith that invests its object with highest sacredness —
divine power and infallible guidance in official teaching.

The question of the endurance of the Con-
France and the cordat is becoming a most momentous one
ROonoordat. in France. The late unveiling of a statue of

^ Renan was not so much a tribute to the man

* to the principles which he sought to propagate and their
racticability at the present day. It was seized upon by the
friends and supporters of the Combes ministry to press still
'irther their war against religion. The speeches were of the
"lost extreme type, and that the aim of the present government
>^ ultimately to wipe out all religion is scarcely beyond doubt.
^- Pressense's bill for disestablishment is receiving many sup-
porters ; the death of religious belief is the topic of open dis-
cussion by leading writers in the reviews; M. Combes has re-
I>eatedly declared that if present conditions continue the Con-
cordat must go.

Whether its discontinuance would be advantageous or not
to the Church is a question much discussed. It was lately pre-
sented to the Bishops of France. Some denounced its con-
tinuance in unmistakable terms ; others championed it almost
&s strongly ; still others spoke in a guarded manner, and would
not commit themselves absolutely, leaving the matter to the
Holy See.

The strongest repudiator of the Concordat under the present

exasperating conditions in France is Mgr. Le Camus, Bishop

^^ La Rochelle. These are his courageous and inspiring words

^® his people: "A truce to considerations of merely human

character when it is a question of the liberty of the church, of

''* *"ight to live, to preach, to make a conquest of souls by the

^'•"h and in charity. Whether the Concordat is more and

'''^•"c destined to say all that our enemies make it say, and to

'*y no longer what it has hitherto proclaimed so loudly, it is

*°*^^ for U4 nothing more than a deplorable piece of dupery.

^^tViiog is worse than to feel that we are being strangled by

* very hand which should protect us.

*' There are men who cannot be despised, who must be
^*'^Woncd with; the men who think nothing of their own wcl-
'*'"^, of m">ney, and even of life itself. Let us be such. The

CohfMENT ON Current Topics,

spectacle of men of God held in the leash for a little bread
and material protection by the promoters of unbelief will ever
be regarded with supreme pity; and what will seem inexplica-
ble to the generations to come is that we, Catholics and French-
men, men free by national temperament and grace, have so
long delayed to cry : ' We have had our fill of slavery and we
will have no more of it 1' "

The BeligiouB

Situation in the

FhilippiDBB.

The religious situation in the Philippines is
gradually settling itself in a way that will
conduce ultimately to the best interest of
the church and the people in the islands.
In this permanent settlement there were a few points which,
themselves having been finally settled, furnished the basis of
the arrangement. One of these points is the permanency of
the American occupation. To most people there never was a
doubt about this. Some few, however, imagined that the
American authorities would withdraw in time. But even the
ones least disposed to realize that the flag is there to stay have
come now to accept the situation as a permanent one.

With this in view the church has accommodated herself to
existing arrangements, and four able and sagacious men have
been selected to occupy important sees. These newly con-
secrated bishops have taken the opportunity of their presence
in New York to pay their respects to the President, and to
each the President has affirmed his policy. It is simply this :
The prime necessity of a successful administration in the Philip-
pines is to make the people contented ; the people will not be
contented if they are suffered to rest under the impression that
the American government is non-Catholic in its personnel or
inimical to the church in its administration of affairs. Hence
the bishops who are the evangels of the newer life for the
church there, while they went to Rome for their consecration
and spiritual authority, they called on the President to get his
assurances of hearty good will and God-speed, and they come
to the people with both the authority of Rome and the sym-
pathy of America.

As to other points of settlement, the church will in all
probability be placed under the administration of the legislation
of the Council of Baltimore. The old Canon Law of a neces-
sity will fall into desuetude, because it is founded on " the

I903.J

Comment' on Current topics.

>37

benefice," and now the benefice is a thing of the past. The
separation of church and state throws the support of the clergy
back on the voluntary offerings of the people, and in the long
run the type of Catholic developed under this system will be
vigorous, loyal, and devoted. The new policy will be to give
the native every opportunity of development. There will be
no position of dignity and responsibility to which he may not
aspire. As for the religious orders, they will be necessary for
the betterment of the church. It is hoped that their monetary
affairs will be settled in the early future, so that they can go
back among the people as missionaries. They have been an
integral part of the church in the Philippines and their useful-
ness is not by any means at an end. They may become most
efScient auxiliaries of the bishops in caring for the spiritual
needs of the people. With the wisdom that has always charac-
terized the policy of religious orders they will readily see that
the old order has changed, and that it will be necessary to
adapt themselves to the new state of affairs. The scarcity of
priests in the islands is so notable that the bishops must avail
themselves of the religious, and the religious will see that their
success in the work of evangelization will be secured by subor-
dinating themselves to the supreme spiritual authority of the
bishops.

The question of "Trades Unionism " is des-

e liuBB ion o tined to become of paramount importance
Trades Umonum. ^ ,ir, ,

during the coming year. Whether a man

is at liberty to sell his labor how and in what manner he

choscs, and whether the law will protect him in this liberty,

ife problems which perplex our best publicists. A case is

now before the tribunal of public opinion for discussion and

settlement — that of the Miller case in Washington. The

methods adopted during the past summer by some of the labor

leaders, of compelling men to labor as and how they deem

owt, " to strike" when it seems advantageous to the interest

of the men, and so on, are doing not a little to paralyze the

industrial interests of the country. It will soon become a

lOMtion whether the moneyed interests of the country will

'•ot be obliged to yield the complete management of their

business to the leaders of the labor unions, and if there should

be any official settlement either in public sentiment or in any

^thoritative tribunal that trade unions are supreme, that they

138

Comment on Current Topics.

[Oct. ,

can compel every wage-earner to work as they dictate or not
work at all, it would be most fatal to progress. Labor is ass
absolutely dependent on capital as capital is on labor, and if
capital is made a slave by labor to do its behests, to employ
whom and in the manner only as labor says, it will retire
from the field of industry, and not only will all progress be
stopped but the best interest of labor will be defeated. The
oath of the International Typographical Union has never been
strictly interpreted, nor do the members themselves desire
that it shall be. Otherwise it would place trades unionism
above both church and state. But that such an oath could be
deliberately written out and exacted by organizers, only goes
to show that there is no limit to which certain unwise leaders
will not go in order to secure their ends. Labor has certain
undoubted rights ; one of them is to organize to protect itself,
another is freedom from oppression, and still another is to be
paid a living wage ; but in the great struggle that is now on
to secure these rights, the greatest care must be exercised not
to violate certain other fundamental rights that are included
within the personal liberties guaranteed to every citizen.

Again the cry goes up loud and pitiful
Maosdonia and the from the people of Macedonia to the Chris-
Turk tian nations, to the lovers of human justice,

to come over and help them. Eight times
during the last century did the same appeal go forth, and
eight times was it unheeded because the ears of the Powers
were waxed deaf with selfishness. And the unspeakable Turk,
in the murdered men, women, and children at Adrianople,
in the score of villages devastated through Monastir, in the
unholy massacres reported from many other places, only repeats
what he has done many, many times before.

If there were signs, even the smallest, of his improvement,
of his sorrow, or of his amendment, his case might not be so
utterly exasperating. But he has learnt nothing in all his five
and a half centuries of contact with civilization ; nay, rather
has he held himself up as the scourge of Christianity and of
all progress. Every power of Europe knows his deceit, his
hitred jf the Ctiristian, his dstermination to ride roughshod, like
the Vandals of old, over every law of human justice and of
human toleration. Every power of Europe has its own courts

1903.] Comment on Current topics. isp

io Turkey where it can see that justice is done to its own sub-
jects, and its post-offices, in order that its mail may not be
opened and stolen.

"^tif is the Turk thus tolerated and endured ? The Powers,
if they but wished, could drive- him from the continent of
Europe within a month; yet their jealousy, their mutual fear of
one another, their supreme selfishness and desire to acquire
advantageous territory, cause them to stand off, while on the
altar of that greed thousands of helpless victims are being
offered up in sacrifice to the unspeakable Turk.

If the world once arose in its thousands, and marched
across deserts to save a tomb from desecration, what ought it
do to-dayj if it has advanced in " civilization " and " humani-
tarianism," to save — not a tomb, but thousands of its fellow-
men and women from death and an infamy worse than death?
But there are so many ol^tacles in the way, we are told at
every turn.

The Bulgarians' latest appeal to the Christian Powers, ask-
ing them to force Turkey to use legitimate methods of war-
fare, has gone unheeded. Bulgaria herself threatens to rise,
and with the Macedonians, and perhaps the Servians, she could
put an army in the field that would make the Turks tremble,
for it is known that their army is not well equipped. If Bul-
garia conquered, she would become the most important state
of the Balkans, and thus incur the enmity of Russia and Aus-
tria. No matter where one turns or for what solution he seeks,
there looms up a great, threatening power, while in its shadow
the Turk continues to massacre.

But may Bulgaria rise— even if her rising put a torch to
the powder-magazine of Europe; for when the clouds of war
will have cleared away, the Turk will not be seen on the con-
tinent — a consummation most devoutly to be wished.

I40 THE Columbian Reading Union. [Oct^

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

WITH much sorrow we received the news of the sudden death of John A.
Mooney, LL.D., who was one of the most devoted friends of the Colum-
bian Reading Union. His lamented death was the result of an accidental fall
at Hurricane, in the Adirondacks, where he was staying with a party of
friends. His party had taken an aiternoon drive to Clifford Falls, about fouc
miles from the Wiley House. Mr. Mooney left the carriage to get a better
view of the gorge from the brink of the precipice, and fell into a crevice the
top of which was covered over With thick brushwood. He dropped about
fourteen feet, striking bis head dn the rocks below. He received a fracture
of the skull, and did not regain cbnsciousness, dying a few minutes later.

John A. Mooney's father was a well-known brownstone dealer of New
York, and the son had always lived in this city. He was educated at St.
Francis Xavier's and St. John's College, Fordham. From the former institu-
tion he received the degree of LL.D. Mr. Mooney was a man of broad schol-
arship. He was the author of a number of books, among them being the
Life of Giordano Bruno and Criticisms of the Modem French Novelists. One
of his latest writings is a life of Archbishop Corrigan, of whom he was an
intimate friend. Besides his general attainments, he had the reputation of
being one of the best Dante scholars in this city. He was a frequent con-
tributor to Catholic magazines.

Dr. Mooney was a bachelor, and left no immediate relatives. He was a
member of the Union League and Catholic Clubs. The funeral took place
from St. Agnes' Church, East Forty-third Street, the pastor of wLich, the
Rev. Dr. Henry A. Brann, was an intimate friend of Mr. Mooney. During
the Mass of requiem the church was filled with the many-friends of the de-
ceased. Dr. Brann was the celebrant of the Mass. The Rev. Thomas F.
Myhan, rector of St. Ann's, was deacon, and the Rev. Joseph McLoughlin,
S.J., a godchild of Mr. Mooney, was the sub-deacon. An eloquent eulogy
was pronounced by the Rev. Thomas J. Campbell, S.J. His Grace, the Most
Rev. Archbishop Farley, who was present within the sanctuary, performed the
final absolution. One of Dr. Mooney's latest contributions to literature was
published in the New York Times — April i8, 1903— dealing with the study of St.
Francis of Assisi among non-Catholics. It is an excellent specimen of his keen
penetration, incisive style, and varied learning, and as it may assist many of
our readers in forming their opinions on a complicated subject it is here
in part reproduced :

Following the old school of Protestant writers who could find little to
admire in any saint and much to condemn in every friar, a new school now
arose that discovered many virtues in Francis at least ; virtues, however, that
marked him as " Lutherist " rather than Catholic. Even Henry Thode, whose
labored studies of early Franciscan art should have served him better, joined
the gentle Francis and the ungentle Luther as brother reformers. Others
there have been to claim Francis as one of that elusive band fancifully denomi-
nated " the precursors of the Reformation."

Now the rationalists have seized poor little Francis, and they s«em bound

1903.] THE Columbian reading Union. 141

to make him one of their own. The tall pedestal upon which they have lifted
him is none too high, though it is much too narrow at the base, and the foun-
dation is as wabbly as their most weak reason and reasoning. Credit is none
the less due them for giving a quietus to the fandful notion that St. Francis
of Assisi was a thirteenth century Protestant, or a precursor of Luther and
Calvin, any more than of Henry VIII. or of Cranmer or John Knox.

Though differing from Renan in details, M. Sabatier's view of St Francis
is radically the same. Francis is rather a most beauteous flower on the ever-
blooming tree of humanity than one lovely blossom among the thousands
that have burgeoned from the ever-blooming wood of the cross, or one shining
jewel in the crown of the Catholic faith — a crown in which the believer sees
new gems set from day to day, as Heaven wills. And thus the saint of Paul
Sabatier and of those who follow in his tracks, however winning a person, is
no true saint, but a mere natural good man, in whom the supernatural is no
living source of the visible spiritual life. The Christianity that Sabatier thinks
he perceives in-Francis is not the clearly defined Credo of the saint, but, in-
stead, the unformulated, variable philosophy of the writer's private brand of
rationalism. Most affectionate, expansive, in the expression of his regard for
his hero, he admires especially one of the saint's many virtues — the virtue of
poverty. Poverty, poverty, the beauty of poverty, the ideal perfection of the
poverty of Francis, the injustice, the harm done to mankind by those who
lowered the saint's ideal — such is the burden of his artful song.

Had not Paul Sabatier written his Vie de St. Franfois d* Assise, it is moi-e
than probable that A. Macdonell's book, The Sens of Francis, would never
have seen the light. After his own fashion, the later writer has elaborated
portraits that the French guide had already sketched. Among the sons of
Francis he has placed those who were and -those who were not sons of the
saint. He, too, is a lover of the poverelio, an enthusiastic lover, and his en-
thusiasm, not for the saint alone, but for a few of his early companions also,
is so youthful, so hearty, that he cannot fail to disarm even those who love
truth more than passion or sentiment unmeasured.

Having frankly warned his readers that he is biassed, A. Macdonell lays
down a proposition lovers of truth cannot accept. No one can faithfully write
a saint's life who is not a psychologist, so Mr. Macdonell asserts. Fore-'
warned, forearmed — we know the historical and the biographical psychologist;
they are both arrant romancers. Remembering M. Renan's rare psychologi-
cal art, and with the evidence before him of Sabatier's expertness, A. Mac-
donell should have hesitated about boasting of his own modest talent.

In the thirteenth century every Catholic was bound, as every Catho-
lic is to-day, by the teaching of Christ, who, practising poverty, condemned
not at all wealth honestly acquired and charitably used. Should A. Macdonell
be deeply disturbed because the Idea of St. Francis was, as he mistakenly
im^nes, destroyed, we see nothing to hinder his revival of the Idea by giving
all that he has to the poor and then following the Master. That Francis,
honoring poverty, conferred extraordinary benefits on Italy and on the rest of
Europe during the thirteenth century and after, there can be no doubt —
economic benefits; and we. can see that before long some student less psycho-
logical and more scientific than the author of the Sons of Francis, will be led
to measure these benefits, and perhaps to draw a lesson that will be fruitful

142

The Columbian heading umoN.

Jet, 1903.

among the economists and the sociologists of the future. For nigh seven

centuries the ideals of St. Francis have been operative. To-day they are

operative. Many sons has the sainted poor little man of Assisi — Friars

Minor, Capuchins, Observantins, Conventuals, Recollets — all seeking this very

day lo ser\'e mankind in all ways, like their lovable and loving father and

patron. John A. Moonky.

• • •

^/'e are indebted to the Hon. F, A. Latchford, of Toronto, Canada, for a
pamphlet containing the account of an expedition in August, 1903, to deter-
mine the location of the old Huron Village of St. Ignace II., where Brebeuf
and l^aleinant were put to death March 16-17, 1649. The investigation was
under the direction of the Rev. A. E. Jones, S.J. A brief description of the
place is given in the following extract from the report •

A« a lookout for the child of the forest, grown familiar with the ways of
the wilderness, .ind with his keen vision sharpened still more by his every-day
contact with nature in her every mood, the site of St. Ignace was a near ap-
proach to the ideal. And had it not been for the innate apathy of the Hu-
ron, of which Brebeuf time and again complained, St. Ignace, instead of falling
an ««•>■ prf y "> ^^^ enemy, might have proved the b'ulwark of the nation. But •
he lacked the vigilance of the Mohawk and the Seneca, and paid dearly for
allowing: himself to be lulled into the quietude of a false security.

Turning towards the north and north-east, the eye ranged over the waters of
Sturgeon Huy and the greater MatcUedash, and took in a wide stretch of country
\Vi tho Mii»koka district, white, a little further east, it swept over Gloucester
Pool, the mouth of the Severn, and no small extent of the North (or Black)
Kivcr Valley. But all these local advantages, as rehearsed above, all the
chitrnMi of the panorama which unfolds itself before the gaze of one standing on
lh« Rite of St. Ignace, might well be dismissed from thought with a passing note
o( admiration, were not memories of a far higher order of excellence woven
round It- Vastly grander visions of the beautiful and sublime in nature are
III l>r met nith within the confines of this great Dominion, and in an endless
varkrly of kin*l, from the beetling crags of Trinity Rock, the towering mass of
Capo r.tornity on the Saguenay, to the fairy scenes of enchanting beauty in the
Uland* of the St. Lawrence: from Niagara, with its deafening roar of waters
lltiUKliitt lo depth* unknown, to the silent solitudes of the Selkirks, whose
||h(*ring peak-* cleave the very clouds above — all these and others surpass it
InintflMXirAbly, either in majesty of outline or in perfection of detail.

Milt no «|)ot on the wide expanse of this continent was hallowed by a no-
hl»r •Mcrif'icr for the Master than was consummated on this hill-top a few acres
III 9«lrnl) and which lay for two centuries and a half lost in the recesses of the
(urott riirir where we were standing stood, long since, two Christian heroes
w|iit40 llvc« ebbed itowly away amidst unspeakable torments. Unlike the mar-
ly ri iif fill who (tood in the great amphitheatres of Rome, awaiting death from
ill* wild tinattt of the arena, they had no friends among the onlookers to en-
ct«Mi>i|{e lliriii by voice or gesture. They stood alone in the wilderness of the
Nbw WiirlU with a few neophytes, sharers in their sufferings, among a howling
\nk\\i\ of aavafffl, more ferocious than lion or leopard. And as the flames
fiirlKd louml llieir blivtering and lacerated limbs, the smoke of the sacrifice as-
t:#(MUd «• fiwuct IncchM to (he throne of the Eterna]. M. C. M.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD;

Vol. LXXVIII. NOVEMBER, 1903. No. 464.

LEO XIII.: A CRITIC'S MISTAKES.

BY REV, JOHN J. BURKE. C.S.P.

t i

|N the New York Times* " Saturday Review " of
September 19 appeared a review of TAe Great
Encyclical Letters of Pope Leo XIIL, edited by
Father Wynne, S.J. The reviewer was Mr. Wolf
Von Schierbrand.
The writer opens with much praise for Leo XIII. as a man.
He says that " no unbiased mind will withhold from him the
tribute of highest admiration." Mr. Von Schierbrand then
makes the distinction between Leo the man and Leo the
*• Churchman."

Such a distinction is a necessity in any matter of exposi-
tion and criticism, and it is fully warranted by tradition and
common usage. But it is a distinction that is not at all war-
ranted in forming an ultimate moral judgment of any indivi-
dual, be he public or not. The u^e of it in the Times* review,
taken with its context, throws light on the misapprehension
and the misunderstanding under which the reviewer himself
labored. He gives the attribute of moral goodness to a man
whose principal actions he condemns. He might answer that
he does not condemn them on moral grounds, and that may
be true ; we would not wish to do him the least injustice. But
to say that Leo did not adapt himself to his age, when Leo
maintained that he. continually studied it, and that it was ever
dear to his heart; to write that Leo was opposed to liberty,
when in a special encyclical Leo put himself forth as its cham-
pion ; to say that Leo was opposed to principles and govern-

Thb Missionary Socibty of St. Paul the Apostle in the Stats

OF New York, 1903.
VOL. LXXVIII. — 10

144

Leo XIII. : A Critic's Mistakes.

[Nov.

ments which Leo in turn defended and commanded his subjects
to obey, — seems to us very much like charging this same man,
<^o, with serious moral fault. But the review oflfers an occa-
sion at least to bring out a general moral principle which is
most important.

In making the distinction mentioned, the Times' reviewer
evidently takes it for granted that Leo as a private individual
and Leo as head of the church were quite distinct, with dif-
ferent responsibilities, and even different wills — a sort of Dr.
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He supposes, in other words, that Leo
could do, in the matter of morality, or actually did, many things
as Pope which it would have been wrong for him to do as an
individual ; in other words, that his office exempted him in I
certain respects from the moral law, and that his actions as an
official are not to enter into our estimate of the man ; for the
JUmfs' reviewer praises the man beyond words, but condemns
the ottictal. This is the only explanation that would, from the ■
stand- point of logic, at all justify his writing, and from his
point of view he is justified in making the distinction.

Hut with a little thought one will see that all the actions, ■
private or public, otiicial or non>officia], of Leo or of anybody
•Uo arc the actions of the man in question; that Leo conse-
UUi>nily wtt» rcsi>onsible for all his actions, and that every one
uf tliU'M. without exception, has its necessary share in any true ■
Jiiii^Mnrul concerning his character. It is perhaps a common
Uull l»> think tliat an official position will justify an act which
[Up IniUvidual holding the position believes to be wrong, and
wtilih lt« would not do if he were not an official. We have
k)t*i«vii M«rn to recite the Athanasian Creed while in their souls
|ll(*y iliri nut believe it. They justified their immoral act on the
Uruuiid of their oDicial position.

1 1 in A common view also, and one that seems to possess
(1h» wrllor of the criticism, that the Pope as Pope is not
IimimmI by the same moral laws that bind him as man; that
III M Ifnft he JM oflicially beyond law — a law unto himself.

Au<*ti"*' **1' ^his the Catholic Church teaches that every
((fitii-itiirtl, bo he the highest or the lowest, is bound by his
aiifl ; that that conscience is to him the voice of God,
iffd IhMl it governs all the actions of his life, no matter in
H'liHl OwM lUry n>fty be performed, and that by the conformity
ht iH'MLHnlijrinily of every act with that conscience the said act

I
I

«903]

Leo XIIL: a Critics mistakes.

is good or bad. Were he to violate that law grievously, no
matter what his position, he would be guilty of sin.

If it is forbidden to him as a private individual to be un-
just to his fellows, it would be equally sinful, yes more so, to
be unjust as Pope; if he is commanded as an individual to for-
give those that hate him, the same law is binding upon him in
his official acts as Pope, even if they have to do with miUions
of people; if as an individual he is foibidden to seek revenge,
he is equally forbidden to seek it as Pope, though he be deal-
ing with the most powerful nations of the earth. The Pope in
the truest sense of the words is the servant of the servants of
God, with the care of the whole church as a moral care rest-
ing upon his soul, and it was the realization of that stupendous
fact that made Cardinal Sarto weep, and even draw back, when
he was elected Pope of the Universal Church.

This truth will also help us to sympathize with the Times'
reviewer in his mistakes — which appear grievous to Catholics,
but which are evidently the result of limitations begotten of
ignorance in the matter; it will also bring home that other
truth, that every reporter or correspondent is not at all com-
petent to give a proper estimate of such a character as Leo
XIII.

In fact that work belongs to one who has a true notion of
the duties and responsibilities of the Papacy, who can appre-
ciate something of its breadth and comprehensiveness, some-
thing of the power to look upon things as the Pope looks
upon them, for is it not an old axiom that sympathy, or
at least sameness, of view is the first requisite for a good
critic ?

Of course, a ruler or an official may find many of the acts
of his office distasteful, but that only adds an element of merit
to the performance of his duty ; if he deemed the act immoral,
he would commit sin in performing it, no matter what advan-
tageous fruits it might produce.

Again, we may disagree entirely with the opinions of those
whom nevertheless we may call very good, as Pope Leo XIII.
wrote in his Encyclical of 1898 of the non-Catholic Scotch:
** Many of the Scottish people who do not agree with us in
faith sincerely love the name of Christ and strive to ascertain
bis doctrine and to imitate his most holy example."

The point to be insisted on here is simply that, whether

t46

Leo XIII.: A Critic's Mistakes.

ov.

we agree or differ, alt the actions of a man, be they pri-
vate or official — all have their share in our estimate of his
character.

The use of the word " Churchman " in the Times' article
would never appeal to the Catholic sense, for it represents a
view which on principle is foreign to the Catholic mind. The
critic uses it to portray Leo's personal attitude as Pope, and
he would make that attitude narrow and intolerant indeed. A
reader might well judge from it that Leo deemed himself the
head of a sect that was constantly warring with others, or the ■
ruler of a church that was jealous of other churches, or the
pope of an ecclesiastical body that was necessarily to reach
out after temporal authority and human respect, whose exist-
ence depended on the number of its members.

The concept of Leo's true attitude, the attitude of all the
popes, that they were the rulers of the Church founded by
Jesus Christ ; which was not to depend on human power nor
human wisdom nor numerical strength either for its life or for
its continuation, but which was preserved in being by the
special power of God ; a church which in its spiritual supremacy
and freedom naturally possesses all the powers, rights, and
privileges that flow therefrom ; which is above creeds and
communions and sects ; which, like Christ Himself, has the
whole world for its field and every soul (or its care ; which
possesses a religious teaching given it from above, of certain
positive principles with logical conclusions, all of which form a
science; which has the responsibility of delivering that teach-
ing to the world, and so instructing and governing and guid-
ing m;n in the truths of this life and the next, — such a con-
cept it is mDSt necessary to grasp, to understand, to begin
with as a supposition at least, if one is to judge and estimate
rightly the acts and the character of a Pope.

And no AT, coming to the second question, is Leo as a mat-
ter of fact guilty of the shortcomings with which the Times'
reviewer charges him ?

We might have no ground of complaint against the reviewer
as to the first point, but with regard to the second we cannot
but emphatically charge Mr. Wolf Von Schierbrand with de-
Jibirate m'srepresentation. Nothing but a mental obliquity,
purposely self-inflicted, could lead him to write as he does.

1903.]

LEO XI I L: A Critic's Mistakes.

147

He bad the encyclicals of Leo before hiin ; he Kad heard the
world-wide chorus of universal praise ring about his ears; he
must have read critical opinions by Catholic, Protestant, and
Agnostic ; yet he deliberately contradicts them all. And a
peculiar feature of that chorus of praise was not simply that
Leo was a man who was true to his principles, but that he
had enunciated principles which, if followed out, would bring
peace to society, be the bulwark of good order, and do away
with the gravest problems that now harass the mind of every
serious thinker on social conditions.

The Times* reviewer says that Leo did not adapt himself to
his age ; that he adhered to the teachings of such ancients as
Augustine, Tertullian, and Jerome. Leo XIIL sought to give
the world the teaching of Christ, which in its principles is un-
changeable. He quoted these Fathers as great interpreters of
that teaching. An American would not be charged with not
adapting himself to the age if he sought to direct present
events by the teachings of Washington or Jefferson or any of
the fathers of the Republic.

As Christ is the Saviour of the world, so his teachings are
the salvation of society. Studying the conditions of every
class, sympathizing with all that was good, feeling for the
repressed, loving liberty and law, Leo sought to apply these
teachings to present conditions, and thus to make stable modern
progress and modern development. If this be not heartily,
sincerely adapting one's self to the age, then Christ himself
did not adapt himself to his age nor sympathize with man-
kind.

A further proof that Leo understood and sought the inter-
est of all his fellow-men may be found in the fact that there
is Dot an important question in the religious, political, social^
economic fields that he has not treated ; not a theory of gov-
ernment or of socialism which he has not discussed, and either
defended or refuted in principle or in detail.

And that he treated them with a wisdom suited to present-
"*y conditions is attested to by the workingmen in Rome, who
•^"cd him Father and erected a statue to his honor, as well
*^ hy the judge of a Minnesota court who lately employed his
*ords to voice a judicial opinion.

We might fill the pages of this magazine with testimony to
the very practical manner in which Leo has adapted himself to

,/t/TlC'S MISTAKES.

the age, given by men of every creed and of recognized pre-
eminence.

Mr. Carroll D. Wright, the United States Commissioner of
Labor, wrote ; " I think the encyclical of Leo XIIL on the
labor question gives the foundation for social science in this
century. It is a vade mecum with me, and I know that it
has had an immense influence in steadying the public mind."

Mr. John Mitchell wrote: "It gives me much pleasure to
Join In paying my humble tribute to His Holiness Leo XIIL, m
whose broad-minded, libera! views have won for him the re- ■
spect of all classes of society regardless of their religious
belief." 1

Dr. Schurman, of Cornell University, " delights to recall '
L^o's patent and exalted service in the promotion of justice,
virtue, and piety among all peoples." Dr. Schurman con-
tinues: "I have always been greatly impressed with the high
and wise statesmanship which Leo XIIL has exhibited in _
dealing with the fundamental problems of the modern state." • |

A Protestant minister, Reverend J. Wesley Johnston, writes :
" Leo was neither dramatic nor spectacular. But he was toler-
ant ; he was of liberal mind ; his outlook was broad ; his
grasp on affairs was that of a statesman ; his ambitions were
never personal; he was a priest but a man as well; his sym- M
pathies and activities were far-reaching; his ministry, though "
primarily Romanist in its purpose and desire, was of world-
wide scope and influence. We find him, therefore, taking a ■
deep and abiding interest in the problems that agitate and
distress a great mass of men. His was not a cloistered faith,
he acted as peacemaker, mediator, arbiter ; he cham-
pioned the cause of labor, yet guarded sacredly the rights of
capital; he adjusted differences, settled disputes, restored har-
mony between factions and nations, and in every way possi-
ble sought to secure an era of fellowship and good-will." f ■

Mr. Wolf Von Schierbrand writes that Leo was opposed to
our American government. The Rev. Lyman Abbott, of the
Outlook^ wrote: "Pope Leo XIII. has rendered, in my judg-
ment, an incalculable service to humanity at large by what he
has done to dissipate the impression that the Church and De-
mocracy arc inimical to each other, and to make it clear that

*Catkoli{ W»rU^ Xl.-irch, 1903.

\S*rik Amtrii*m /fti-int, Se|>ieRiber. 1903.

1903.] Leo XIII.: A Critic's Mistakes 14-,

one can be a loyal and faithful son of the church and ?. loya'
and faithful citizen of a free republican government.*' *

Ag^in, we will quote Leo's own words : " Thus an effectual
barrier being opposed to tyranny, the authority in the state
will not have all its own way, but the interest and rights of
all will be safeguarded — ^the rights of individuals, of domestic
society, and of all the members of the commonwealth, all
being free to live according to law and right reason " {Eticyc.
Human Liberty).

This surely is in perfect harmony with the only rational
interpretation of the phrase " all men are born equal."

The right of a people to rebel is thus dwelt upon : " When-
ever there exists, or there is reason to fear, an unjust oppres-
sion of the people it is lawful to seek for such a change of
government as will bring about due liberty of action. In such
case an excessive and vicious liberty is not sought for, but
only some relief for the common welfare, in order that while
license for evil is allowed by the state, the power of doing
good may not be hindered " {Idem).

Again : " It is not of itself wrong to prefer a democratic
form of government if only the Catholic doctrine be main-
tained as to the origin and exercise of power. Of the various
forms of government the church does not reject any that are
fitted to procure the welfare of the subject " (Idem).

" Neither does the church condemn those who, if it can be
done without violation of justice, wish to make their country
independent of any foreign or despotic power. Nor those
who wish to assign to the state the power of self-government,
and to its citizens the greatest possible measure of pros-
perity " (Idem).

" Catholics, like all other citizens, are free to prefer one
form of government to another ; for none of these social forms
(empire, monarchy, republic) is in itself opposed to the prin-
ciples of sound reason nor to the maxims of Christian doc-
trine" ( Encycl. Allegiance to the Republic).

"The right to rule is not necessarily bound up with any
special mode of government " (Encycl. Christian Constitution of
States).

Leo XIII. wrote thus particularly of America : " Precisely
at the epoch when the American colonies, having with Catho-

• Catholic World, March, 1903.

ISO Leo XIII.: A Critics Mistakes. [Nov.,

He aid achieved liberty and independence, coalesced into a
constitutional republic, the ecclesiastical hierarchy was happily
established amongst you, and at the very time when the
popular suffrage placed the great Washington at the helm of
the Republic, the first bishop was set by apostolic authority
over the American Church. The well-known friendship and
familiar intercourse which subsisted between these two men
seems to be an evidence that the United States ought to be
conjoined in concord and amity with the Catholic Church. ■

" For the church amongst you, unopposed by the constitution
and government of your nation, fettered by no hostile legisla-
tion, protected against violence by the common laws and the
impartiality of the tribunals, is free to live and act without
hindrance. All intelligent men are agreed, and we ourselves
have with pleasure intimated it above, that America seems
destined for greater things. Now, it is our wish that the
Catholic Church should not only share in but help to bring
about this prospective greatness. We deem it right and proper
that she should, by availing herself of the opportunities daily
presented to her, keep equal step with the Republic in the
march of improvement, at the same time striving to the utmost
by her virtue and her institutions, to aid in a rapid growth of
the States" (Encycl. Catholicity in the U. S.)

The Times' reviewer says that Leo contends for church
supremacy, and this in the political sense. We will allow Leo
to answer for himself:

" And now before going any further we must indicate a ■
craftily circulated calumny making most odious imputation
against Catholics, and even the Holy See itself. It is main-
tained that that vigor of action inculcated in Catholics for the
defence of their faith has for a secret motive much less the
safeguarding of their religious interests than the ambition of
securing to the Church political domination over the state.
Truly this is the revival of a very ancient calumy, as its inven- ■
tion belongs to the first enemies of Christianity " (Encyc, Alle~
giance to the Republic).

So we might continue with like quotations, but we think
that what we have quoted will be more than ample for our
purpose.

Mr. Von Schierbrand says that Leo was intolerant. Now,
every man of principle must be intolerant of error. So was

•903-]

Leo XIII.: A Critic* s Mistakes.

151

Leo. But he was most tolerant, kind, sympathetic, with there
who in ignorance might hold error.

We have already referred to his words about the non-
Catholics in Scotland. In his encyclical, " Catholicity in the
United States,'* Leo writes of those who are not Catholics :
"With not a few of them, dissent is a matter rather of inheri-
tance than of will. Surely we ought not to desert them ; but
with mildness and charity draw them to us, using every means
of persuasion to induce them to examine closely every part of
Catholic doctrine. Great is the power of example, particularly
with those who from a certain inborn virtuous disposition are
striving to live an honorable, upright life, to which class very
many of your citizens belong." That same interest and love
Leo extends to the Indians and the negroes.

In his last letter to the American hierarchy Leo wrote:
"But in this circle of congratulation, while the voices of all
are welcome to us, that of the bishops and faithful of the
United States of North America brings us special joy, both on
account of the conditions which give your country promi-
nence over many others and of the special love we entertain
for you."

The Times' reviewer says that Leo was opposed to liberty,
religiously illiberal, intolerant, and narrow. Leo writes in his
encyclical. " The Christian Constitution of States " : " Nor is
there any reason why any one should accuse the church of
being wanting in gentleness of action or largeness of view, or
of being opposed to real and lawful liberty. The church, in-
deed, deems it unlawful to place the various forms of divine
worship on the same footing as the true religion, but does not
on that account condemn those rulers who for the sake of
securing some great good, or of hindering some great evil,
aJlow patiently custom or usage to be a kind of sanction for
each kind of religion having its place in the state. And, in
fact, the church is wont to take earnest heed that no one
shall be forced to embrace the Catholic faith against his will,
for, as St. Augustine wisely reminds us, ' man cannot believe
otherwise than of his own free will.' "

Leo's constant attitude in the matter of liberty is well de-
scribed in the words of a non-Catholic, Dr. Washington Glad-
den, "that he had faith in liberty that is not mere lawlessness."
In his encyclical " Immortale Dei " Leo distinguished be-

152

Leo XIII. : A Critic's mistakes.

[Nov.,

tween the good and the evil in the free range of human
action, — in other words, distinguished between liberty and
license. And our free American Republic by law does not
permit absolute liberty, else would license be her undoing,

" Men have a right freely and prudently to propagate
throughout the state what things soever are true and honora-
ble, so that as many as possible may possess them, but lying
opinions than which no mental plague is greater, and vices
which corrupt the heart and moral life, should be diligently
repressed by public authority, lest they insidiously work the
ruin of the state" {Encycl. Human Liberty).

And all these quotations are written in good type in the
book which Mr. Von Schierbrand reviewed, and which, like
every careful reviewer, he conscientiously read. A little more
thought, a little more intelligence, and, let us say, a little more
broadness of view, would lead Mr. Von Schierbrand to realize
what so many others have paid testimony to : the truth of those
words of the preface, " the late PontiflF, by adapting himself
to his age and studying carefully its needs and possibilities,
has so far influenced its thought and tendencies and so plainly
altered its current of events, as to have opened a new era in
its history."

J903.]

A UTVMN

pU^UMN ©HAI^MS.

BY EDWARD WILBL'R MASON.

FALLING leaf! What meteor of night,
What sun that misses its high goal of light,
Illumes the darkness with its failing breath
As brightly as this star the night of death ?

A fading rose! What other fire of earth,
What dying splendor of the summer's hearth,
Contains in ashes warm as Beauty's noon
The whole magnificence of flaming June?

A voiceless bird ! What first of nightingales.
What thrush that sings in summer's leafy vales,
Finds such sad sweetness in the throat of song
As this last bird in silence all day long ?

A shrinking brook! What spirit of the wood,
What sprite that dies in summer's solitude,
Pours out its life as brightly on the sod
As this wild thing that bathes the feet of God ?

lid

'54

THOUGHTS ON PHILOSOPHY.

[Nov.,

^.it^

THOUGHTS ON PHILOSOPHY.

BY ALBERT REYNAUD.
SCHOLAS TICISM.

►ONE, who have delved a little below the surface
of scholastic philosophy, can fail at least to
have conceived great respect for its admirable
consistency and coherency; and for its exacting
precision in terms and thought.
Aye ! there is the rub. Not the so called jargon ; the
uncouthness of form and speech. Not its divergence from easy
and accustomed methods of discourse and presentation. I dare
say more. Not the main body of doctrine — when understood
— the substantial affirmations of fact and reality, of conscious-
ness and certitude, which it conveys, explains, and defends.

I am not speaking of the professional infidel, but of the
general outsider. His main trouble at bottom, when he sincerely
approaches the system at all, is that it is too exactingly pre- ■
cise ; holds him down too strictly to know just what he means,
and to stick to it, without loopholes of escape into hazy neigh-
boring asylums. ■

Why ! its mere ugliness of form would have generated ad-
miration. And what of the shades of Kant and Hegel ? No.
But its persistent precision, its unconquerable snarlishness of
that tramp of thought — the indefinite — there is where the
general run of a down-at the heels humanity shies and takes
oflfence. _

II. \

I love scholastic philosophy. But I sympathize with the
tramp. The heaving breast of humanity lies behind those rags.
Many a breeze of the unconventionalities of freest life — anyhow
of the real life of the multitude — often lurks in" his vagrdnt
utterings. A conception (which it is of course his natural
prompting to emphasize) that there is no such great intrinsic
difference between his rags and my lady's gown — between the
accurately-tailored, and somewhat fancifully colored, garment;

1903-

Thoughts on Philosophy.

155

and bis chance measure of cloth and patch — which both cover,
alter all, a quantum of nakedness.

Poor tramp ! You are not wholly wrong. At least, you
arc certainly human. Our philosophical vestments, however
textured, are not so essentially different from those which invest
your concepts of reality and life.

And do we n3t hear the echo of divine words saying:
"Is not the body better than the raiment?" And again:
"the life greater than the food?"

III.

Ves. Life is the thing. The real life, and the entire life.
And not merely the dialectical snip of it.

After all, the human mind cannot have become Pasteurized
into permanent sterility just in the thirteenth century.

To insist on availing ourselves of its glorious intellectual
achie^rements ; to point out the excellences of the paths it has
blazed out towards the infinite truth ; of its sublime rationaliz-
ing of divine truths ; of the necessity and duty of continuity,
and grasp after unity, in the development and effort of human
speculation : Excellent.

But it is human after all. It is a system of rationalizing
after all. It is not a supernatural revelation, not a divine
word, further than any other sublime effort of the human
mind is divine.

To make a fetich of it ; beyond properly recalling the
human mind to the value and validity of its substantial con-
quests and acquisitions in the domain of truth, is to nudge
human philosophizing unto a pedestal which divine dogma and
revealed truth alone are entitled to enthrone.

IV.

A defect, perhaps, of exaggerated and intolerant scholasti-
cism (but mainly subjective and resting mostly in the mental
attitude of some extreme votaries), is not essentially a tendency
^^ insufficient discipline in the sciences of observation, and
•nsufiicient allowance for the laws and the facts of induction.
Probably this is largely an indirect and accidental result ; and an
effect of prevailing conditions of the time.

Kul it seems to me to lie more deeply in lack of adequate
perception and recognition of other avenues and agencies of

156

THOUGHTS ON PHILOSOPHY.

[Nov.,

knowledge and conviction, of ascertainment of truth — which do
actually obtain with the mass of humanity ; and in fact, with
the natural human intellect.

Call these : intuitional, emotional, volitional, ethical, aesthetic,
innate, connatural, categorical, traditional, or empiric — immanent
appetites for, and perceptions of, the true, the good, and the
beautiful I — Surely as many feet have travelled and actually make
life's journey, to the divine and the true, along such iindialectic
and uncovenanted ways.

Far be from us the notion of rationalizing all truth, of arriving
at and justifying every divine fact, natural and supernatural,
by the light of human reason alone. On the contrary, it has
seemed to me an overwrought and strained insistence, a forced
and factitious wrenching asunder, to "abscind," as the school-
men might say, from the data of Faith and Revelation ; frcm
divine testimony of light. And having seemingly done so,
assume to construct artificial and independent disciplines of
psychologies, ontologies, cosmogonies, and theodicics — behind
every line of which the truths of faith still lurk in mask. And
then to expect that one outside the bulwarks, or the foot-
lights, should recognize these divorced schemata as convincing
of the presupposed postulates.

No. So framed, these artificial systems bereft of their total
armament, may be at home, giants of defence. But they prove
in practice pigmies of offence, in open field, against the un-
predisposed outsider. ■

In that light, perhaps, well may have been invented that
ill-sounding legend to hand around the shining face of Truth:
Apologetic.

VI.

To return. A chief credential of scholastic philoscphy, is
it seems to me, is that it is the continuous philosophy, con-
sonant with divinely revealed data, of the growth and progress
of human speculation. Beyond its intrinsic e,>:cellences, it bears
on the forehead the Apocalyptic sign. Not only consonance
with the natural philosophy and common sense of the human
race in its fundamental affirmations ; but enlightened, con-
firmed, and consecrated by the sign and name of God. In
last analysis, its supreme sanction is its harmony with divine facts.

Unfortunately, the battle of the day is with those who

1903-]

Thoughts on Philosophy.

IS7

question that fundamental sanction, and the validity of those
very credentials. Grossly as they violate, in doing so, the
primary instincts, intuitions, and beliefs of the human race-
putting at issue the very facts of consciousness and self- evi-
dence, of substantial personality, and of substantial objectivity
in the external world : — yet it is not by pure dialectics alone,
nor perhaps mainly, that the philosophy of truth, reality, and
certitude can best be vindicated and enforced.

That philosophy, while cogent in syllogistic power, needs,
perhaps, to be broadened by fuller adaptation to and assimila-
tion of all the methods and avenues by which the human mind,
will, and heart can be, and in fact are, affected in the pursuit
of truth.

It needs, possibly, a freer adaptation to new mental atti-
tudes, — which necessarily accrue in new generations and environ-
ments; — assimilation of new lights, — which are necessarily im-
plied in new and continued looking; greater receptivity for
the continuous growth and development of human thought and
speculation; for new forms and phases of that natural seeking
after reflective explanation of truth^ — of which it is itself so
splendid and shining an exemplar.

It needs perhaps, especially in the mental attitude of some
of its votaries, more accommodating and appreciative recognition
of other — it may be dialectically less- success- deserving, but
practically and actually efficient and at any rate concurrent —
instrumentalities of reaching out for and dealing out the word
of truth.

And lastly, and perhaps mostly, it needs to harmonize it-
self, face, speech and spirit (wherever not inconsonant with
revealed dogma), with the cherished predispositions and tenets
of this freer and democratic age: — tenets and modalities of
OJind and will which were not prevalent and dominating in the
*ges when that philosophy received its scientific formulation.

None more than the Masters, it is easy to believe, would
h*ve taken account of, and synthesized, all the knowledge and
categories of time and relation of their day. As indeed the
prince of them all specifically did.

Vil.

To conclude, within the limits of a brief essay, and not in
mere criticism of a system of philosophy of which the inteU

158

THOUGHTS ON PHILOSOPHY.

[Nov.,

lectual eminence, coherency and consistency with common
sense, are a delight to the truly unprejudiced mind which
makes itseli familiar with it; but let us add a word, possibly,
by way of suggestive inquiry.

Would not an insufficient recognition of the multiform ways
by which the appealability of truth makes itself felt and accepted
by the infinitely diversified personality of man, be lamentable ?

Would not a very intense insistence on dialectic precision- —
not only alien to the natural exercise of mind by man — ^but
also in some measure failing of sufficient recognition of the
inadequacy of our concepts of truth and reality, and still more
of our verbal expression of them, be equally unfortunate ?

Should not room enough be made in the system for the
participation of will, heart, and imagination ; the cogencies of
their lialf-tntuitions, aspirations, and symbolisms; by which they
actively share in divining, portraying, bringing home, and mak-
ing welcome to us the beautiful and lovable facts and realities

of truth ?

VIII.

Man, born of a divine affirmation, is not made for nega-
tions. Finite, but created free, he shows his origin and his
destiny by being also born with that intellectual longing called
" Why ? " It is the very mark of his conscious intellect, and a
proof that he was not made to live by bread alone. "Why?"
may be doubt, but it is also spiritual hunger.

And it needs all the faculties of man's being to frame true
answers, — the totality of his powers, nature, and personality to
make, in his turn, true affirmations of the deeper and higher
facts around and above him. The lights of Faith as well as
the lights of imagination, the intuitions of the heart and the
unspelt desires of the will, as well the processes of analytic
rcHection.

Fathioncd with infinitely diversified dispositions and apti-
tude*, manifold innate and energic powers, and varied com-
binaliona of intensity of those powers; impressionable by in-
numerable and variant cogencies, intellectual, volitional, aesthetic,
ethical, and physical, the totality of his one personality reaches
out for, is afTected by, and embraces the truth from myriad.
\%C^i%, through myriadfold avenues and methods, and by all
the quivering and dynamic activities of Life — and not simply by
i\\c uM\ clinic, or geometric formulation, of abstract dialectics.

1903] Christian Unity. 159

CHRISTIAN UNITY. -

BY A MISSIONARY.

(concluded.)

. at his baptism.

[OHN was baptizing in the Jordan. Jesus came
with others to be baptized, and then, for the
second time, the heavens opened to glorify the
Son of Man. The Holy Ghost descended in bodily
shape as a dove, remaining upon Him; and the
voice of the Father in heaven said : " Thou art my beloved
Son ; in Thee I am well pleased." The glory here witnessed
to is twofold: (i) the abiding presence of the Holy Ghost, and
(2) the divine Sonship. This twofold glory Christ gave to His
Church that it might be one.

I. Every society has a spirit or principle of life. Other-
wise it is a corpse, not a living body. What gives to civil so-
ciety its enduring life is our social human nature, and the spirit
of a business corporation is the love of gain. Now, the Church
of Christ differs from all other societies in this, that its ani-
mating principle is a divine Person dwelling in it. Our Lord
sent His own Spirit to abide in the Church and to be to the
Church what the soul is to the body of a man, so that His
Church is in very truth the Body of Christ, as St. Paul calls
it "All these things one and the same Spirit worketh, divid-
ing to every one according as He will. For as the body (of
man) is one and hath many members, and all the members of
the body, whereas they are many, y£t are one body ; so also
is (the Body of) Christ. For in one Spirit were we all bap-
tized into one Body. . Now you (Christian people) are
the body of Christ " (I. Cor. xii.) By this indwelling of the Holy
Ghost the Church is a living organism, and its corporate activi-
ties, such as the administration of the Sacraments, have thence
a divine efficacy. " I will ask the Father, and He shall give you
another Paraclete, that He may abide with you for ever." He
still abides with those included in that " you." The comment
of St Augustine in the fourth century is very suggestive :

VOL. UCXVIII.— II

i6o

Christian Unity.

ov.,

*' What the soul is to the body of a man, that the Holy
Ghost is to the body of Christ, which is the Church. What
the HoSy Ghost does in the whole Church, that the soul does
in all the members of one body. But see what ye have to be-
ware of, to watch over, and to fear. In the body of a man it
may happen that a member, the hand, the finger, or the foot,
may be cut off. Does the soul follow the severed member ?
While it was in the body it was alive ; cut it off, its life is
lost. So a man is a Christian and a Catholic while he is alive
in the body ; cut off, he becomes a heretic. The Holy Ghost
does not follow the amputated limb. If therefore ye would
live by the Holy Ghost, hold fast charity, love truth, desire
unity, that ye may attain to eternity." — Sertnott on Pentecost
Day, j

That this indwelling of the Holy Ghost is included in the *
Gifts of Glory may be proved from H. Cor. iii., and the nu-
merous texts quoted in proof by Newman, Serni. i8, vol. iii.,
Parofftial and Plain. How it makes for unity is as evident as
it if difficult of analysis. How is a tree one? How is any
organism one ? All we can say is that the Spirit of God has
on earth a Body, a social Body, and that this Body is one. J
•• One Body and one Spirit " is St. Paul's description of the
Church. But Scripture does inform us fully as to some aspects
i*f the unity effected by the Spirit. Christ said to the Apos- I
Ilea: "I will not leave you orphans: I will come to you.

. . The Paraclete, the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will
•end in my name, He will teach you all things, and bring all
thing! to your niind, whatsoever I have said to you." Unity
ii\ faith through possession of the Truth is evidently one in-
tended effect of the indwelling Spirit of Truth. Christ signifi-
cantly calls this umty peace, AnA St. Paul: "Be careful to keep
the unity of the Spirit In the botid of peace." We know by
ex[)erience and history that diversities of faith mean war, often
ill the military sense of the word, and always in the social and
mental sense.

2, The Divine Sottship,—Q\\x\s\\a,n unity is not the unity of
a race or a nation. Neither is it, on the other hand, built on
the basis of our common humanity. If this had been a suita-
ble basis for a world-wide unity in religion, the institutions of
the Okl Law would not have been restricted to one nation. A
new IjasiH had to be created, and Christ created it. For "as

1903.] Christian Unity. 161

many as received Him, He gave them power to be made the
sons of God, to them that believe in His name: who are born,
not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of
man, but of God " ; and therefore, in their degree, like unto
Him of whom St. John adds : " We saw His glory, the glory
as it were of the only- begotten of the Father, full of grace
and truth." Elsewhere in Scripture the gift of divine sonship
imparted to Christians is variously spoken of as " grace,"
" glory," " life," " regeneration," " the new man," " partakers
of the divine nature." It is a new life which manifests itself
in the activities of faith, hope, and charity. It is not simply
a new way of life that can be learned, but a new life super-
added by grift to the natural life of man. By this gift the
Church is, in the strictest sense, a brotherhood. All sons of
God are brothers of Jesus Christ. We are more intimately
related one to another by this bond of brotherhood than we
are by our common descent from Adam. The latter can be
the basis of a world-wide political unity or world power only
when naval and military force overawes, and even then the
expansion is limited, and the imperial power must often con-
tent itself with the externals of loyalty. But our brotherhood
in Christ is the basis of a world-wide body politic, a spiritual
empire, which secures unity in faith, worship, and discipline,
without the aid of one gun on sea or land. This body politic
is the Catholic Church. To become a citizen of this Empire
the natural man has to be born again. " Unless a man be born
again of water and the Holy Ghost he cannot enter into the
Kingdom of God." When the new life thus received is allowed
to develop and is suitably nourished, it gives the person pos-
sessing it a power of attraction which is an added uniting
force. It is the power of holiness, and a conspicuous example
of it in the world was the personality of Pope Leo XIII.

AT HIS TRANSFIGURATION.

A parable shall introduce this chapter. A certain very rich
man, known as Mr. King, wished to contribute to the welfare
of his country. One day he invited some of his friends to
visit him, and when they were seated in his office he said :

" I have' made my last will and testament, and I have

X62

Christian Unity.

[No>

named you the executors of it. As it is somewhat complicated
I think it advisable to give you the outlines in advance. You
are to take a billion dollars of my money and invest it. The
annual proceeds of this amount you are to distribute, in the
manner directed by the will, among the poor of this state for _
three hundred years." I

One of the friends interrupted him, smiling: "Mr. King,
Wc are willing to act for you in this patriotic design — at least
I am ; but you surety do not expect us to live three hundred
years ? " f

" No," replied Mr, King, " I do not expect any of you to
live so long; but by the terms of the will you are formed into
a corporation, and it is the corporation which will, I hope, live
for three hundred years. I have arranged for the appointment
of successors in oflfice, and also for the addition of others to
your number when need of them is felt."

Another of the friends had been thinking of the whole
•cheme, and did not quite like it. He said :

" It »ccnis to me that the work imposed upon the corpora-
tion t« not likely to prove an unmixed benefit to the country.
The beneficiaries under the will are the poor of this state,
lltit will not the undeserving poor of other countries flock in,
altraclcd by the prospect of aid from the corporation ? "

" I have foreseen that objection," replied Mr, King. " If
the work of the corporation attracts good citizens, so much the I
better, even if they be poor ; but, as you say, there must be
dlicrimination. Considering the motives which actuate politicians
In times of election contests, I fear I cannot leave it to the
public authorities to draw the line. I have therefore provided
that all those who are to benefit by the provisions of my will
must become members of this corporation and form one society
with you — not all distributing officers, of course, but all one
society. Now, to become and remain members of this society
they must possess certain qualities and perform certain duties _
which will be effective in enabling you to discriminate." I

The friends were still far from conviction that the scheme
was feasible. One of them remarked :

" This society, when fully organized, will cover the whole
state. It is easy to imagine divided interests. One section will
claim, for instance, that other sections are getting more of the
benefit than their due share. Fault will be found with the

1903.]

Christian Unity.

J63

management of the fund, with the distribution of proceeds, with
the conduct of officials. Disputes may result in complete rupture
of the society, each side claiming control of the fund. The
mtans of the society may be wasted in litigation, and the poor
of the society may not know where or how to obtain the in-
tended benefit."

"That," replied Mr. King, "is an aspect of the matter to
which I have given much thought. I cannot wholly prevent
disputes and divisions ; but I have made provision that the
poor may at least always know where to look for redress. It
is necessary to provide that, in case of rupture, there will be
no reasonable doubt as to which of the separated bodies will
continue to be my society. You will, of course, have a presi-
dent Now, I have not left it to you to elect the first presi-
dent. I have named him myself, and have given to him such
powers that his co-operation and sanction will be essential to
the operations of the society. His successors in office will
succeed to his powers, so that on whichever side he is there
is my society."

Thus, any large scheme of benefit to men must reckon with
the various interests, prejudices, selfishnesses, and local jealous-
ies inherent in human nature. Careful organization may not
alone suffice to save it from shipwreck on these rocks; but
without careful organization disaster is swift and inevitable ;
and the more far-reaching the scheme the more elaborate the
organization must become. Our Lord foresaw all our difficul-
ties and divisions in religion, and He foresaw especially the
tremendous dividing power of race and nationality. Neverthe-
less Hj prayed and worked for a world-wide unity. Is it
possible to think of Him providing for this unity and at the
same tims leaving the essential element of organization to the
efforts and disputes of men ? The fruitless efforts made in our
day to unite bodies which are alike in faith and worship, as
*ell as in race and language, show that a divinely provided
^organization is essential to unity. Even if unity in faith and
^'orship could be otherwise secured, the evils of sectarianism
Would still flow from numerous independent organizations.
Such bodies, when in contact, are essentially antagonistic, no
•natter how much alike they may be. As the Hon. Mr.
Silfour, the present Premier of England, says: "Friction and
)ca!ousy seem absolutely inseparable from divided organization,

164

Christian Unity.

[Nov.,

even if behind that organization there be no deep seated or
substantial dtiTerence of opinion." St. Paul says the same thing
in other words: "Let the peace of Christ dwetl in your hearts,
wherein also you are called in one body." That is, one body,
oae organization, is the divinely appointed means of peace.
The unity with which Christ repeatedly compares the unity of
His Church is that between Him and the Father, " that they
miy be one as We also are." Now, the unity of Father and
Son is a unity of substance as welt as of mind and spirit, and
the corresponding unity of the Church must be organic as well
as mental and spiritual. Hence our Lord speaks to the
Apostles as to a corporation having a perpetual succession :
"I am with you even to the end of the world." "The Holy
Ghost will abide with you for ever," " You will sit on twelve
thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel," This last sentence
was addressed to the Apostles when Judas was still one of the
twelve, though it could not apply to him personally. It in-
cluded him only as one of the corporation. St. Peter so under-
Htood it, for his first act of authority was to move in the ap-
pointment of a successor to Judas (Acts i.) To expect to find
elaborate organic provisions in the Gospels would be to look
upon Christ as a man, whereas He is God made man. The
U'llv'Tjc is mirveliously elabarate, but the creative act which
brought it into being was far from elaborate. If you wish to
know who made the world, the clearest informant is the Book
of Gjnesis ; but if you wish to know what kind of world it is
that God made, the better way is to examine the world itself.
This is what men of science do, and they are right. Similarly,
if you wish to know who created the Church, the clearest in-
formant is the New Testament ; but if you wish to know what
kind of Church it is that Christ created, the more scientific
way is to examine the Catholic Church of to-day, especially
Mince an organism like the Church develops from within, as
do;i a grain of mustard-seed, and is more easily understood in
a Ktate of maturity than in its first stages of growth. However,
ininy have denied that this Church is the work of God, and
Christ has deigned to let us see enough of His creative act to
rn ike that denial unreasonable.

ChriHt is a King ; He was proclaimed a King at His birth,
and lie was [)ut to death for claiming to be King. His king-
dom U the kind called imperial, His subjects are not a homo-

1903.]

Christian Unity.

165

geneous people, nor confined to one territory. They are in
Heavea as well as on earth, and all power is given to Him in
Heaven and on earth. To see His Kingdom of Angels and
Saints in Heaven men have to pass through death ; but one
day He told the Apostles that some of them, even before tast-
ing death, would see this Kingdom of God. " And it came to
pass that about eight days after these words He took Peter
and James and John, and went up into a mountain to pray.
"And whilst He prayed His countenance was altered, and His
raimsnt was white and glistening. And His face did shine as
the sun, and His raiment was white as the light. And,
behold, two men were talking with Him. And they were
Moses and Elias appearing in majesty ; and they spoke of His
decjiie which He should accomplish in Jerusalem. But Peter
and they that were with him were heavy with sleep. And
awakening they saw His glory. . And a voice came

out of the clouds saying: This is My beloved Son; hear ye
Him."

It was such glimpse as mortal man could bear; but it gave
to the Apostles ocular proof that in the life beyond the grave
Christ is King, the centre and light of a Kingdom in Heaven,
with power to call the highest there to attend upon Him.
Hence St. Peter says in his second epistle: "We have not
followed cunningly devised fables when we made known to you
the power and presence of our Lord Jesus Christ; but have
bicn made eye-witnesses of His Majesty. For He received from
God the Father honor and glory, this voice coming down to Him
from the excellent glory : This is My beloved Son in whom I
«ro well pleased; hear ye Him." Christ refers to His Throne
in Heaven when he speaks of the time when " in the regenera-
tion the Son of man will sit on the Throne of His Majesty."
He came to extend this Kingdom on earth, to acquire a new
^^ingdom by right of conquest. Secular powers extend their
sway by shedding the blood of others, Christ extended His by
shedding His own. And the Kingdom on earth thus founded
"c committed to the Apostles. The Kingly glory which the
f^^'her had given to Him and manifested on the Mount of
Transfiguration, He gave to the Apostles, saying: '* I dispose
to you, as My Father hath disposed to Me, a Kingdom, that
you may eat and drink at My table in my Kingdom, and may
stt upon thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel,"

SovM

166 Christian Unity. [N

Here certainly is organization. A Kingdom with royal
honors and thrones and judicial functions involves a high order
of organization. The twelve tribes of Israel are the adminis-
trative divisions of the people of God, and the Apostles are
set over the administrative divisions of the new Kingdom.
Though there are as many thrones as there are Apostles, it is
still one Kingdom, because they are all subject to Christ as
King. He is the centre of unity. All the other thrones are
subordinate to His. Are all the other thrones of equal au-
thority? We may assume that they are essentially equaJ, since
He speaks of them as exercising their authority in separate
administrative divisions. What, then, will become of the unity
of the Kingdom when He ascends to the Throne of His
Mliifwty? Observe that He has two Thrones. The Church on
earth is; as it were, an outlying Kingdom of His Empire. He
has a Throne oa earth as well as in Heaven. This is what
th« Ancel said in announcing His coming: "The Lord God
shall give unto Him the Throne of David His father, and He
•hall reign in the house of Jacob for ever." This throne is
Ckft earth. We might confidently anticipate that He would not
|«4iv# it empty on ascending into Heaven. Indeed, the words
ol the Angel would have no fulfilment in that case, for an in-
visible throne on earth is no throne at all ; and His provision
lor unity would have been evidently inadequate. But we arc
not left to conjectures on this point, for on no other part of
the organization of the Church are the Gospels so clear and
vN^'lK'it The authority given to Simon Peter, apart from the
Othtr Apostles, is not represented in Scripture as intermediate
liptwren that of Christ and that of the Apostles. On the con-
trary, the Apostles appear immediately subject to Christ,
while tho place of Peter in the administration of the Church
appvari to be identical with that of Christ, as far as mortal
\\\%\\ van po«iie«» such authority. If the Apostles are made
•ulljsvii to Peter, il is not because Peter has greater Apostolic
llMWer than they ; but because they are subject to the Throne
ti( Christ on earth, and because Peter is placed upon this
ThhMis l»» reproient Ilim as Viceroy or Vicar, and to main-
lulu unity* I'Ot u» place in parallel columns the prerogatives
III dhrlsl •! Supreme Ruler on "the throne of David His
Ullisr " •"*' '"' **^" words conveying special authority to
Mlinon I'elor. Ihui:

J903.]

Christian unity.

167

Prerogatives of Christ.

I. My Kingdom is not of this
world. . . . Pilate said to Him :
-An Thou a King then? Jesus an-
5»tf«d: Thou sayest (truly) that I am
a King. For this I was born and for
this 1 came into the world, that I
should give testimony of the truth
(Jolin xviii. )

2. I am the good Shepherd. . , ,
A«d other sheep I have that are not
of this Fold ; them also I must bring,
"d they shall hear My Voice, and
ibere shall be one Fold and one
Shepherd (John x.^

3- He hath the key of David ; he
op;neth and no man shulteth ; shut-
leth and no man openeth (Apoc. iii.)
All power is given to Me in Heaven
indon earth (Matt, xxviii.)

Christ to Peter.

1. He that is the leader among
you (the Apostles), let him be as he
that seneth. . . . I am in the
midst of you as he thatserveth. . . .
I dispose to you, as My Father hath
disposed to Me, a Kingdom. . . .
Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath
desired to have you (all) that he may
sift you as wheat ; but I have prayed
for thee (Simon Peter) that thy
faith fail not, and thou, being once
converted, confirm thy brethren
(Luke xxii. )

2. Lovest thou Me more than
these? He said to Him: Yea, Lord,
Thou knowest that I love Thee. He
saith to htm: Feed My lambs. . . .
Feed My lambs. . . . Feed My
sheep.

3. And I will give to thee the keys
of the Kingdom of Heaven. And
whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth,
it shall be bound in Heaven; and
whatsoever thou shalt loose on
earth, it shall be loosed also in Hea-
ven (Matt. x%'i.)

4. Thou art Simon the Son of
Jona ; thou shalt be called Cephas
(Peter), which is by interpretation
Rock. And upon this Rock 1 will
build My Church, and the gates of
hell shall not prevail against it (John
i. and Matt, xvi.)

4 The Stone which the builders
(the Jews) rejected the same is be-
come the head of the corner. By the
Lord this has been done, and it is
•onderful in our eyes. Therefore I
*»ftoyou that the Kingdom of God
•J**!! be taken from you (the Jews),
'Bd shall be given to a people yield-
'"8 the fruits thereof. And whoso-
*^*er shall fall on this Stone shall be
*'olten, but on whomsoever it shall
'•"» it shall grind him to powder
'>*«l, xxi.) The Stone is Christ
(Acts iv. II).

That is, in the words of St. Augustine, " to Peter as to
another self, He entrusted His sheep; He willed to make him
one with Himself, that so He might entrust His sheep to
•"•n." He made Peter the Confirmer of His followers in the
'*'th, the Guardian of His whole flock, the Recipient of His

i68

Christian unity.

[Nov,.

power to open and shut, and the foundation Rock of th<
social edifice He built. In this He is but following the ordi-
nary course of human affairs in the government of an out-
lying dominion, with this difference : that while He creates and
animates the whole special edifice of His Kingdom, human
rulers can but use the powers inherent in the social life of
men. In the Philippines the President of the United States is
represented by a governor. In India the King of England is
represented by a viceroy. In the Church Christ as King is
represented by His Vicar, the successor of St. Peter. There
is no other way of securing organic unity among men. A
Filipino, refusing to acknowledge the authority of Governor
Taft, would be treated as disloyal, even if he advanced the
plea that he could only recognize the President at Washing-
ton as Head of the State. In the same way, a Christian re-
fusing to acknowledge the authority of the Vicar of Christ is
disloyal to the Kingdom of Christ, even if he so acts because
he thinks that Christ as Head of the Church can have no
representative on earth. The moral responsibility of his dis-
loyalty may not rest on him^he may be acting in good faith ;
but that does not change either the fact or the other effects
of his disloyalty. The multiplication of sects and the decay
of faith go on whether the rebellion is conscious or uncon-
scious. Whosoever shall fall on that Stone shall be broken.
Every word and act and prayer in the life of Jesus Christ had
for object the creation of His Kingdom of the regenerated. If
He taught, it was to make known the conditions, the duties,
and the benefits of membership in it; or by parables to con-
vey a conception of the Kingdom itself, its evolution, its price-
less value, its methods of action, etc. If He instituted rites,
it was to make initiation into it a formal and visible act, and
to bind the members of it to Himself and to one another by
ritual bonds. If He died, it was to remove, by the sacrifice
of His life, the obstacle which stood in the way of establish-
ing His Kingdom. If among the Jews He chose a number of
disciples, and among the disciples twelve Apostles, and among
the Apostles one Vicar, it was to leave it sufficiently organized
to begin the work of regenerating the human race. If He sent
the Holy Ghost, it was to enter into His Kingdom and make
it a divine living body. In this Kingdom there are many
thrones and many palaces — each Bishop's See is a throne and

1 90]. J

Christian unity

169

each cathedral a palace; and the "Throne of David his father"
remains "in the house of Jacob for ever," and on it sits the
Vicar of Christ, Pope Pius X., to keep all in the unity of
faith, worship, and government ; because the glory which the
Father gave to the Son, the Son gave to us that we might all
be one.

II.

Ill His Transfiguration Christ manifests His three offices; He
is King, Priest, and Teacher — a King in the majesty of His
power and presence; a Priest in the sacrifice which was the
subject of conversation with Moses and Elias, " the decease He
should accomplish in Jerusalem " ; and a Teacher in the voice of
the Father in the cloud, "Hear ye Him." Newman says:

"When our Lord went up on high, Me left His representa-
tive behind Him. This was Holy Church, His mystical Body
and Bride, a Divine Institution, and the shrine and organ of
the Paraclete, who speaks through her till the end comes.
She, to use an Anglican poet's words, is * His very self below,'
aj far as men on earth are equal to the discharge and fulfil-
ment of high offi:es which primarily and supremely are His.
These offices, which specially belong to Him as Mediator, are
commonly considered to be three; He is Prophet, Priest, and
King; and after His pattern, and in human measure, Holy
Church has a triple office too; not the prophetical alone and in
isolation, but three offices, which are indivisible though diverse,
vit. ; teaching, rule, and sacred ministry.

"Christianity, then, is at once a philosophy, a political
power, and a religious rite: as a religion, it is Holy; as a
philosophy, it is Apostolic ; as a political power, it is imperial,
tHu is, Ojs and Catholic. As a religion, its special centre of
Action is pastor and flock; as a philosophy, the Schools; as a
''ule, the Papacy and its Curia.

"Tftouyh it has e.\ercised these three functions in sub-
*tance from the first, th»y were developsd in their full pro-
portions one after another, in a succession of centuries; first,
'n Ih: primitive timt, it was recognized as a worship, springing
up and spreading in the lower ranks of society, and among the
'gnorant and dependent, and making its power felt by the
iiCToism of its martyrs and confessors. Then it seized upon
^^- intelleclual and cultivated class, and created a theology and

I70

Christian unity.

schools of learning. Lastly it seated itself, as an ecclesiasi
polity, among princes, and chose Rome for its centre. ^

"Truth is the guiding principle of theology and theoIojE
inquiries; devotion and edification, of worship; and of gov
ment, expedience. The instrument of theology is reason:
of worship, our emotional nature ; and of rule, command
coercion. Further, in mm as he is, reasoning tends to rat
alism ; devotion to superstition and enthusiasm; and powei
ambition and tyranny.

" Arduous as are the duties involved in these three ofli
to discharge one by one, much more arduous are they
administer when taken In combination. Each of the three
its ssparate scope and direction; each has its own interes
promote and further ; each has to find room for the claim
the other two ; and each will find its own line of action
fluenced and modified by the others, nay, sonnetimes i
particular case the necessity of the others converted into a
of duty for itself."

With so miny functions to fulfil, and so many aims to I
in vicAf, a!id so miny divergent interests to safeguard, a sti
central authority is essential to unity. It is only the Catl"
Church that undertakes those various functions consistently.
Anglican and the Greek Churches hand supreme church gov
ment over to the civil power, and thus surrender what New
calls the "political power," using the word "political" in
ecclesiastical and not in its civil sense. The other denom
tions hand the teaching ofhce, as far as it is authorita*
over to the judgment of each individual, and thus reduce
mnistry of teaching to that of exhorting or of interest
They would all be much more divided and subdivided than i
are if they undertook to b; at once ecclesiastically indepeni
of the civil power and authoritative in doctrine and wori
Tne Catholic Church undertakes them all, and succeeds
holding in the " b:)nid of piace" m>re people and more nat
thin all the other hundreds of churches and sects in Chris
dom combined. This is a phenomenon for which a non-Ca
lie can find no rational explanation. Of course,- as New
adds, " however well the Church may perform her duties
the whole, it wilt always be easy for her enemies to make
a case against her, well founded or not, from the actioi
interaction, or the chronic collisions or contrasts, or the \

•903]

Christian Unity.

171

porarjr suspense or delay, of her administration, in the tliree
several departments of duty — her government, her devotions,
and her Schools, — from the conduct of her rulers, her divines,
her pastors, or her people/' But nothing urged against the
Catholic Church can weigh in the balance with the service she
does the world to-day in showing by her example that Chris-
tian Unity is practically possible, and that Christ's Prayer for
unity was not made in vain.

The subject-matter of theology is revealed truth. Theo-
logians assume that nothing has been added to the deposit of
revealed truth since the days of the Apostles, and their task
is to give it systematic statement, to defend it, and to define
its relations with human thought. Its official guardians, as
a^inst rationalizing, are the Bishops and those tribunals in
Rome, called Congregations, through which the Pope ordinarily
actj. Occasionally, perhaps once in a century, the whole ma-
chinery of the Church is put in operation to elicit a final
decision on some disputed point of doctrine; and then, after
it is weighed and sifted in every conceivable way, the Pope
or a General Council, relying on the promised assistance of
the Holy Ghost, proclaims that the decision arrived at is part
of the truth revealed to the Apostles. Thus is secured unity
of faith.

In the sphere of piety and devotion, enthusiasm may re-
sult in the founding of a new sect. It may act like a strong
stimulant upon an unbalanced system. How to combine it
wth unity, when it forms part of a strong character, is a
problem which Protestantism has failed to solve. John Wes-
ley had no wish to leave the Church of England. He looked
upon his following of Methodists as a society within the An-
glican Church, and yet he led multitudes out of that Church
into a new sect. The founding of the Salvation Army in our
'^*n day is a similar phenomenon. Intense zeal for souls is
too valuable a quality to be sacrificed, and yet no amount of
good iQ other directions can compensate for unhappy divi-
''ons, Fn the Catholic Church intense zeal, united with other
'Accessary qualities, results in the founding of Religious Orders
^f^d adds strength to the Church. Macaulay attempts an ex-
P'^nation of this contrast. The contrast to be explained he
^^tcs thus:

" Place Ignatius Loyola at Oxford, He is certain to be-

172 Christian unity. [Nov.,

come the head of a formidable secession. Place John Wesley
at Rome. He is certain to be the first general of a new so-
ciety devoted to the interests and honor of the Church. Place
St. Teresa in London. Her restless enthusiasm ferments into
madness. . . . Place Joanna Southcote at Rome. She
founds an order of barefooted Carmelites, every one of whom
is ready to suffer martyrdom for the Church."

These particular results might not follow, but the general
contrast is undeniable. Macaulay's explanation is, that the
rulers of the Catholic Church have, by centuries of experience,
learned how to deal with enthusiasm. He says :

" The polity of the Church of Rome is the very master*
piece of human wisdom. The experience of twelve hundred
eventful years, the ingenuity and patient care of forty genera-
tions of statesmen, have improved that polity to such perfec-
tion that, among the contrivances which have been devised
for deceiving and controlling mankind, it cccupies the highest
place."

We can pass over the word " deceiving " as that of a Prot-
estant; but what is the value of his explanation? The ac-
cumulated experience of the Catholic Church must be extreme-
ly valuable, of course, when proposed constitutions have to be
examined or disputes settled; but that alone does not account
for the fact that Religious Orders flourish in the Church with-
out causing divisions. They flourished in the Church before
those " forty generations of statesmen " began their work.
And when we examine in detail the founding of recent flour-
ishing orders, we find that they showed no tendency to seces-
sion ; that they adopted their constitutions, their manner of
life, and forms of dress, before the governing authorities in
the Church took any action ; and that when they asked to be
formally incorporated, so to speak, in the Church, the action
of the governing authorities confined itself to consenting or
approving. Macaulay's explanation does not square with the
facts, except to this extent, that good government in the
Church is a necessary condition of the existence of Religious
Orders, as good government in the state is a necessary condi-
tion of the existence of flourishing industrial ccmpanies. Social
peace, whether in Church or State, results from a combination
of several causes, one of which is wisdom in government If
the orders had not found in the Church solidity of faith and

1903.] Christian Unity. 173

inexhaustible resources of spiritual life, no amount of wise
statesmanship could account for their age-long vigor. Solid
faith and permanent spiritual life are beyond the " ingenuity
and patient care " of human wisdom to devise. It is a sim-
pler explanation, as well as more consistent in a Christian, to
say that the oldest, the largest, and the strongest Institution
of Christendom owes its power of control to the wisdom and
power of Christ. John Wesley's explanation of the contrast in
question would have differed materially from that of Macaulay,
as may be inferred from his words regarding converts: "What
wonder is it that we have so many converts to Popery and so
few to Protestantism, when the former are sure to want noth-
ing, and the latter almost to starve ? " That is, he found
spiritual food plentiful in the Catholic Church, and scarce in
the Protestantism of his day. He thought he had supplied
the needs of the latter by his society of Methodists, and he
did do much to revive faith in the reality of God's grace ;
but a century of experience has told how all such efforts
among Protestants must end in the multiplication of sects, —
there are seventeen Methodist sects in the United States, — in
extravagances of religious sentiment, in subsequent reaction
and loss of faith, and in final submission to the ways of the
world.

THE ONLY WAY,

Christian Unity is a vaster and higher structure than it is
assumed to be by those who talk as if it depended on them
to bring it into the world. It has been in the world these
many centuries. The new Jerusalem came down from Heaven
with all essential parts in place, having the glory of God, and
the wall built of precious stones, each of the twelve large gates
consisting of a single pearl. Nations walked in the light of it,
and kings brought their honor and glory into it. After several
centuries the streets and houses and wall of the New Jerusalem
became to the nations and kings as common a sight as the
sun in the sky. To appreciate the value of what is thus com-
mon requires more effort than men are disposed to put forth.
How seldom we reflect on the immense benefits we derive from
the sun! And in the case of the New Jerusalem it was easy
to find fault Centuries of peace had lulled the officials of that
city into too great a sense of security, and the nations began

172 Christian unity. [Nov.,

" The polity of the Church of Rome is the very master-
piece of human wisdom. The experience of twelve hundred
eventful years, the ingenuity and patient care of forty genera-
tions of statesmen, have improved that polity to .^uch perfec-
tion that, among the contrivances which have been devised
for deceiving and controlling mankind, it cccupies the highest
place."

We can pass over the word " deceiving " as that of a Prot-
estant ; but what is the value of his explanation ? The ac-
cumulated experience of the Catholic Church must be extreme-
ly valuable, of course, when proposed constitutions have to be
examined or disputes settled; but that alone does not account
for the fact that Religious Orders flourish in the Church with-
out causing divisions. They flourished in the Church before
those " forty generations of statesmen " began their work.
And when we examine in detail the founding of recent flour-
ishing orders, we find that they showed no tendency to seces-
sion ; that they adopted their constitutions, their manner of
life, and forms of dress, before the governing authorities in
the Church took any action ; and that when they asked to be
formally incorporated, so to speak, in the Church, the action
of the governing authorities confined itself to consenting or
approving. Macaulay's explanation does not square with the
facts, except to this extent, that good government in the
Church is a necessary condition of the existence of Religious
Orders, as good government in the state is a necessary condi-
tion of the existence of flourishing industrial ccmpanies. Social
peace, whether in Church or State, results from a combination
of several causes, one of which is wisdom in government. If
the orders had not found in the Church solidity of faith and

1903.] Christian Unity. 173

inexhaustible resources of spiritual life, no amount of wise
statesmanship could account for their age-long vigor. Solid
faith and permanent spiritual life are beyond the " ingenuity
and patient care " of human wisdom to devise. It is a sim-
pler explanation, as well as more consistent in a Christian, to
say that the oldest, the largest, and the strongest Institution
of Christendom owes its power of control to the wisdom and
power of Christ. John Wesley's explanation of the contrast in
question would have differed materially from that of Macaulay,
as may be inferred from his words regarding converts: "What
wonder is it that we have so many converts to Popery and so
few to Protestantism, when the former are sure to want noth-
ing, and the latter almost to starve?" That is, he found
spiritual food plentiful in the Catholic Church, and scarce in
the Protestantism of his day. He thought he had supplied
the needs of the latter by his society of Methodists, and he
did do much to revive faith in the reality of God's grace ;
but a century of experience has told how all such efforts
among Protestants must end in the multiplication of sects, —
there are seventeen Methodist sects in the United States, — in
extravagances of religious sentiment, in subsequent reaction
and loss of faith, and in final submission to the ways of the
world.

THE ONLY WAY,

Christian Unity is a vaster and higher structure than it is
assumed to be by those who talk as if it depended on them
to bring it into the world. It has been in the world these
many centuries. The new Jerusalem came down from Heaven
with all essential parts in place, having the s^ory of God, and
the wall built of precious stones, each of the twelve large gates
consisting of a single pearl. Nations walked in the light of it,
and kings brought their honor and glory into it. After several
centuries the streets and houses and wall of the New Jerusalem
became to the nations and kings as common a sight as the
sun in the sky. To appreciate the value of what is thus com-
mon requires more effort than men are disposed to put for'
How seldom we reflect on the immense benefits we derive fn
the sun! And in the case of the New Jerusalem it was.#^
to find fault. Centoqi^of peace had lulled the officialW^
city into too gre' f security, and the nati^

the

172

Christian Unity,

[Nov.]

come the head of a formidable secession. Place John Wesley
at Rome. He is certain to be the first general of a new so-
ciety devoted to the interests and honor of the Church. Place
St. Teresa tn London. Her restless enthusiasm ferments into
madness. . . . Place Joanna Southcote at Rome. She
founds an order of barefooted Carmelites, every one of whom
is ready to suffer martyrdom for the Church."

" The polity of the Church of Rome is the very masterU
piece of human wisdom. The experience of twelve hundred
eventful years, the ingenuity and patient care of forty genera-
tions of statesmen, have improved that polity to .luch perfec-
tion that, among the contrivances which have been devised
for deceiving and controlling mankind, it cccupies the highest
place."

We can pass over the word " deceiving " as that of a Prot-
estant; but what is the value of his explanation? The ac^
cumulated experience of the Catholic Church must be extreme-
ly valuable, of course, when proposed constitutions have to be
examined or disputes settled ; but that alone does not account
for the fact that Religious Orders flourish in the Church with-
out causing divisions. They flourished in the Church before
those " forty generations of statesmen " began their work.
And when we examine in detail the founding of recent flour-
ishing orders, we find that they showed no tendency to seces-
sion ; that they adopted their constitutions, their manner of
life, and forms of dress, before the governing authoritits in
the Church took any action ; and that when they asked to be
formally incorporated, so to speak, in the Church, the action
of the governing authorities confined itself to consenting or
approving. Macaulay's explanation does not square with the
facts, except to this extent, that good government in the
Church is a necessary condition of the existence of Religious
Orders, as good government in the state is a necessary condi-
tion of the existence of flourishing industrial ccmpanies. Social
peace, whether in Church or State, results from a combination
of several causes, one of which is wisdom in government. If
the orders had not found in the Church solidity of faith and

'90i.]

Christian unity.

173

p inexhaustible resources of spiritual life, no amount of wise
statesmanship could account for their age-long vigor. Solid
^a.ith and permanent spiritual life are beyond the "ingenuity
a.n d patient care" of human wisdom to devise. It is a sim-
f>ler explanation, as well as more consistent in a Christian, to
^sk.'y that the oldest, the largest, and the strongest Institution
of" Christendom owes its power of control to the wisdom and
p>ower of Christ. John Wesley's explanation of the contrast in
education would have differed materially from that of Macaulay,
a^ may be inferred from his words regarding converts: "What
wonder is it that we have so many converts to Popery and so
fevr to Protestantism, when the former are sure to want noth-
ing, and the latter almost to starve ? " That is, he found
H spiritual food plentiful in the Catholic Church, and scarce in
^ the Protestantism of his day. He thought he had supplied

I the needs of the latter by his society of Methodists, and he
did do much to revive faith in the reality of God's grace ;
but a century of experience has told how all such efforts
among Protestants must end in the multiplication of sects, —
there are seventeen Methodist sects in the United States, — in
extravagances of religious sentiment, in subsequent reaction
»nd loss of faith, and in final submission to the ways of the
world.

THE ONLY WAY.

Christian Unity is a vaster and higher structure than it is
assumed to be by those who talk as if it depended on them
to bring it into the world. It has been in the world these
roanjr centuries. The new Jerusalem came down from Heaven
*ith all essential parts in place, having the glory of God, and
the wall built of precious stones, each of the twelve large gates
consisting of a single pearl. Nations walked in the light of it,
and kings brought their honor and glory into it. After several
centuries the streets and houses and wall of the New Jerusalem
''^ame to the nations and kings as common a sight as the
*"Jn in the sky. To appreciate the value of what is thus com-
mon requires more effort than men are disposed to put forth.
How seldom we reflect on the immense benefits we derive from
t^iesun! And in the case of the New Jerusalem it was easy
'0 find fault. Centuries of peace had lulled the officials of that
^'ty into too great a sense of security, and the nations began

174

Christian Unity.

ov.

to realize that it would be pleasant and perhaps profitable to
furnish their own separate lights. The people in the German
quarter of the city began to speak about building a holy city
of their own by using materials which they could take with
them out of the New Jerusalem. A large body of them did in
fact do this, and several other nations followed their example,
so that the population of the holy city was greatly diminished.
Now, after four centuries of separation, the seceders acknowl-
edge that they made a great mistake. They do not acknowledge
that their mistake consisted in withdrawing from the New Jeru-
salem. They no longer see that city. Great dark clouds of
prejudice, traditional antipathy, political interests, new learning,
and self-confidence rise up between them and it, hiding it from
their view. But they do acknowledge that they made a great
mistake in building so very many different cities of their own.
They talk now of building one large city, or at least a few
large cities, out of the many hundreds of small cities, villages,
and hamlets which prey upon each other and fill the air with
the sound of their contentions. But the discussions about the
site of their new city and about the foundation and shape of it
only add another element of discord. They cannot agree about
the way to begin building. What is still more discouraging, it
is found that the materials which they took with them out of
the New Jerusalem are withering in their hands. Many things
they were quite sure about when first they separated are now
in great and growing doubt, and the documents which served
as guides in building hitherto are now found to guide no lon-
ger, because they have been defaced by people who call them-
selves Higher Critics, The undertaking is doomed to failure.
Meanwhile, the New Jerusalem is still there behind the clouds,
but as visible as a mountain on a clear day to the many mil-
lions whom it makes of one mind, and of whom it makes one
body. It is well and wisely governed, and more populous than
it ever was before. It has the gifts, and it shows by its uniting
power that it has the gifts, of glory which Christ gave that
all might be one. For those who so loudly confess and re-
gret that they have not Christian Unity there is only one
possible remedy, and that is, to break through the clouds
and return to the New Jerusalem, which has Rome for its
centre and the whole world for its territory.

IPON our- arrival at Banana ihe tender, a small
steam launch called the I'ilie d'Anvers, came along-
side and received us> together with some light
cargo intended for our stations up the river. Some
of the officers of the association advised us to
be prepared for any attack that might be made upon us, as
the natives of several of the tribes located along the banks had
been causing trouble and a general uprising was feared. As a
first experience this was not the most encouraging to us new
arrivals, especially as we were unaware of the marksmanship of
the natives, and our accommodations aboard this small boat
permitted no cover whatsoever.

I am glad, however, to say that we arrived at Boma, half
way up the river, without trouble, upon the evening of the
same day, and were received by the chief of station in right
royal style. A sumptuous repast was ready for us, the last we

VOL. LXXVllI — 12

1 76 A Narra tive of the Missions on the Congo. [Nov.,

had the privilege of tasting for some time to come. This con-
sisted of cowheel stew, a la Creole, made from the foot of a
hippopotamus; and this proved a most tasty though a rich
dish. Following this, there wis antelope in all kinds of style,
stewed, minced, fried, and roast, all of which we ventured upon
tasting. But what one most looked forward to. after so long ■
rt journey as oars had been, was conspicuous for its absence,
pit.: vegetables; of these we saw nothing; even the potatoes
■Hrere substituted by potato meal, a patented preparation that
neither tasted nor looked like the real article. Having finished
^our dinner it was quite dark, so we sat upon the veranda en-
>ying the rest mad air, as far as it was possible to do so with
lU kinds of insects dying around, and roaches that appeared
lore like humming birds.

The following morning we left Boma and continued our

^trip up the river to Vi Vi, where we arrived about five o'clock

th« MM« afternoon, having stopped at several points with mail

Cor thOM who were looking anxiously forward for news from

4)1 th« de*r ones «t home.

Sh«U I ever forget "mail day," or the feeling we all ex-
itt>ri««c«d up3a getting news from home? Imagine yourself,

r reader, »ix weeks removed from those you hold dearest in
•tt the world ; at times alone in some spot, far removed from
evei) a white man, or civilized being of any kind ; alone, with
l^a *»M* even to speak to, surrounded by those who held
ahiOlukely nothing in common with you ; living like a wild man
or an exile, surrounded upon all sides by all kinds of dangers,
Im^illiury and otherwise. If you were fortunate enough to
li.i p ^Htod At a place where a hut was located, well and good ;
II m>t, why you had to turn to and build your own dwelling;
Ni\d to do so you possessed nothing but a penknife and the
HwviiiU of your two escorts, should they perchance possess
|h(«»oi, Such privations, such appalling loneliness, can only be
rtiiill«id when experienced. At first the novelty somewhat
linUuhta one ; but as the days slip by, and crowd one upon the ■
othni in slow succession, each bringing with it some new dis
I iiiiifort, some new phantom of dread uncertainty, to be followed
liy MM Attack of fever, that of all is the most depressing sick- i
imsi 1 have ever had the misfortune to suffer from : in this
iuiulltlun all courage, all self-reliance disappear, and the only
dtinlrs thAt is left is to be allowed to die in peace. This feel

1903.] A Narra tive of the missions on the Congo. 1 77

ing, however, is but transitory, and consequent upon that stage
of the disease that is furthest removed from the end. Much
has to bs undergone before the end is arrived at. The sufferer,
though restored to health apparently, does not realize that
with this first attack he is entering upon what may be termed
the real sickness, the intermittent, that marks out a well-
defined downward course, absorbing the vitality that is found
in its subject. After each attack, which occurs at well-marked
periods, the victim becomes less and less capable of throwing
off the utter helplessness that overcomes him. Nor can he
guard against the approach, though many resources are had of
medicines of various kinds. Quinine, which is the only recog-
nized drug that possesses the properties of checking the disease,
soon loses its effect, and the increased doses that in my time
were resorted to served only to accelerate the delirium that
was prone to accompany the malady.

With such an enemy to combat you may readily imagine
what are the feelings of a lone individual far away from all
help. I have often wondered how we recovered ; by what
mysterious influence we managed to pull through on such oc-
casions. The attendants that we had were of no use whatso-
ever ; there existed absolutely no bond of sympathy between
them and ourselves, and all they appeared to desire was the
end, so that they might have a chance to acquire what little
wc possessed in baggage. The simplest order is misunderstood,
whether intentionally or otherwise, and therefore their pres-
ence in the sick-room is only irritating. Parched with a con-
suming thirst, I asked my orderly to give me a cup of water
from a vessel that stood by the window at the end of my
hut; yet, failing to understand the order, he brought every-
thing within reach, and many articles that were hidden away,
in answer to the request, tilt at last, exasperated, I had to get
out of bed and get what I wanted myself, and at the same
time hasten the passage of the attendant from the room.

I feel, therefore, that with the experience I have under-
gone I can adequately appreciate the hardships of those mis-
sionaries of the Catholic Church who, with no other incentive
than that of love for Christ, go forth with none else to rely
upon but Him, and who face the surrounding dangers without
a murmur. And when I compare them with the circumstances
that surround the Protestant, I can, and every one else can>

178 A Narrative of the Missions on the Congo. [Nov.,

judge which are the true husbandmen and which the hirelirgs.
It is at these stages in one's life that one is called upon
to judge between sincerity and hypocrisy, and I must candidly
confess that even as a most bitter opponent of the Catholic
faith, and an avowed enemy to priest and doctrine, I could
not help feeling the greatest contempt for the hypocrisy of
those professing themselves ministers of the Gospel and soldiers

^m^i

A Mission Bra^s Hanp.

of a Standard that they wholly avowed, and that was anathema
to them except from a theoretical stand- point. Had one dis-
played a cross or crucifix to any of us creatures it would have
been enough to have said, Here comes the devil in disguise
of the Roman Catholic Church.

So true is this that 1 can cite an instance that took place
in Lisbon upon the occasion when the British goverrment
withdrew its support from the chapel. Without going into the
details of this occurrence, the British coal of arms was re-
moved and one of the members of the congregation was led
to suggest that a cross be placed upon the communion table.
This so incensed some of the members that they left the con-
gregation. Yet this is not the only instance, for many will
remember the disgraceful occurrences that attended the intro-

f^sm^^y THE Congo. 1 79

duction of those symbols of the true church that every Catho-
lic has been taught to venerate in the churches throughout
England, as the returning dawn of religious truth broke upon
the minds of many of the clergy of the Church of England.
As with the cross so was the feeling for the crucifix, that
Protestants were yet willing to allow was the emblem of their
salvation.

I can surely not be accused of bigotry for citing the errors
that were taught me in my youth, or hesitate to denounce the
vileness of those calumnies that we as children were permitted
to utter against the truth and sanctity of the Catholic Church,
more especially when it is borne in mind that the truth and
the enormity of these crimes have been brought home to me
not from the fact that I have made a study of the subject
from a theoretical stand- point alone, but have had an oppor-
tunity to inquire into the practical side of the Catholic teach-
ing, not in one country but many countries, where its holy
influence has taken root and will spread in spite of those
enemies whose only aim is to sow tares in the Master's vine-
yard.

Nothing can be more worthy of praise than to meet a man
who is thoroughly trained in the practice of his profession,
whether this be shoemaking or any other calling; and on the
other hand, nothing is more disgusting, disappointing, and in-
deed despicable, than to come across one whose only knowl-
edge is superficial, and yet who is ever ready to pose as an
authority. Yet with all this natural feeling for what is hypoc-
risy in the Protestant, there is no hesitation to respect any
one, no matter how unfitted he may be, who may have
the temerity to stand up and interpret the wisdom of the
Almighty, nor still further hesitate to entrust so responsible a
task to those whose qualifications and natural instincts would
become the more humble callings of life, and for which intel-
lect and training had fitted them, rather than to minister the
perverted truth, for even this they are not capable of doing,
as one would be inclined to term, intelligently.

My life at Vi Vi was not destined to be of long duration
at first ; for though there was felt a great need of officers at
this the Central Station, the plan, owing to the attitude of
the Portuguese government, which sought to make inroads into
the territory which she considered rightly belonged to her,

I
I

i8o A Narra tive of the Missions av the Congo. [Nov.,

our efforts were directed to the annexation of such territory
as we found came within the prescribed limits set down by
the king and his committee in Brussels. As I was thoroughly
conversant with the Portuguese language, it was thought fit to
attach me to the annexing expedition, as it was at all times
easy to find a native who understood Portuguese, rather than
to find a native who could interpret either English or French.
Thus my lot was for a short time cast with one of the senior
officers, and I found myself promoted to a much higher rank
than I had ever expected to occupy. After fulfilling my
duties, which were not by any means onerous, apart from the
marches from one district to the other, I was recalled to the
Central Station, and there given a position that, though it
entailed a greater amount of responsibility and much harder
work, yet gave me the equivalent rank of Chief of District
and Assistant Commissary- General. In this position I remained
the remaining portion of my term, exercising not alone my
own duties, but attending to the sick during the absence of
the physician, who was frequently called away for days at a
time.

A CELIBATE.

O PITY not his seeming loneliness !
Nor fear the sacrificial peaks are cold —
Unfathomed peace his spirit doth enfold,
His secret ecstasies we cannot guess.

M.\RY T. VV.\GGAM.\N.

1903.J

Gabrielle.

i8i

GABRIELLE.

BV GEORGINA PELL CL'RTIS.

10 a traveller standing on the mountain side in
south-eastern France the first dawn, as the sun
rose behind the hills, was one of surpassing
beauty. The fresh green turf of early fpring,
and ihe trees laden with white blossoms, were
touched with a rosy light ; while the river in the valley took
on a soft, silvery sheen. Every object stood out clear and dis-
tinct like a cameo, a sharpness and yet delicacy of outline that
was lost later in the day.

The knight coming up the mountain side with his men at
arms was young, and attuned both by age and nature to the
loveliness of the scene, so half way up the steep path he
paused and removed his helmet to let the delicious morning
breeze fan his brow, A pale golden light pervaded every spot
and gave mystery and beauty to the meanest objects. Every-
thing sang the morning psalm of life, with no foreshadowing
of approaching danger. But just as the knight bared his head
to the breeze an arrow whisiled by, followed by another ; and
even as the men at arms closed around their master with raised
shields, they heard a wild cry far up the height that v^ent
echoing through the ravine at their right.

" Forward I " cried the knight as he quickly replaced his
helmet ; and without loss of time he and his followers charged
up the steep paih till they reached the summit of the moun-
tain pass.

But they found nothing, and careful search of the ravire
failed to reveal any sign of human life, so after an hour ihey
gave up the quest and resumed their journey.

As they descended the hill on the other side, valley, river,
and plain lay stretched before them, while the pine clothed
ravines and near by rocky peaks lent grandeur and sokmniiy
to the scene. The knight uttered a prayer of thankfulness for
his escape from what was meant for certain death. Half a
league further on, the country became more thickly woodtd,
until at length on the brow of the hill, around which the paih

172

Christian Unity.

[Nov.,

"The polity of the Church of Rome is the very master-
piece of human wisdom. The experience of twelve hundred
eventful years, the ingenuity and patient care of forty genera-
tions of statesmen, have improved that polity to such perfec-
tion that, among the contrivances which have been devised
for deceiving and controlling mankind, it cccupies the highest
place."

VVe can pass over the word " deceiving " as that of a Prot-
estant; but what is the value of his explanation? The ac-
cumulated experience of the Catholic Church must be extreme-
ly valuable, of course, when proposed constitutions have to be
examined or disputes settled ; but that alone does not account
for the fact that Religious Orders flourish in the Church with-
out causing divisions. They flourished in the Church before
those " forty generations of statesmen " began their work.
And when we examine in detail the founding of recent flour-
ishing orders, we find that they showed no tendency to seces-
sion ; that they adopted their constitutions, their manner of
life, and forms of dress, before the governing authorities in
the Church took any action ; and that when they asked to be
formally incorporated, so to speak, in the Church, the action
of the governing authorities confined itself to consenting or
approving. Macaulay's explanation does not square with the
facts, except to this extent, that good government in the
Church is a necessary condition of the existence of Religious
Orders, as good government in the state is a necessary condi-
tion of the existence of flourishing industrial companies. Social
peace, whether in Church or State, results from a combination
of several causes, one of which is wisdom in government. If
the orders had not found in the Church solidity of faith and

I903-J

CHRISTIAN UNITY.

J73

inexhaustible resources of sptrituaJ life, no amount of wise
statesmanship could account for their age-long vigor. Solid
faith and permanent spiritual life are beyond the " ingenuity
and patient care " of human wisdom to devise. It is a sim-
pler explanation, as well as more consistent in a Christian, to
say that the oldest, the largest, and the strongest Institution
of Christendom owes its power of control to the wisdom and
power of Christ. John Wesley's explanation of the contrast in
question would have differed materially from that of Macaulay,
as may be inferred from his words regarding converts: "What
wonder is it that we have so many converts to Popery and so
few to Protestantism, when the former are sure to want noth-
ing, and the latter almost to starve?" That is, he found
spiritual food plentiful in the Catholic Church, and scarce in
the Protestantism of his day. He thought he had supplied
the needs of the latter by his society of Methodists, and he
did do much to revive faith in the reality of God's grace;
but a century of experience has told how all such efforts
among Protestants must end in the multiplication of sects, —
there are seventeen Methodist sects in the United States, — in
extravagances of religious sentiment, in subsequent reaction
and loss of faith, and in final submission to the ways of the
world.

THE ONLY WAY.

^^^^^Rristian Unity is a vaster and higher structure than it is
I assumed to be by those who talk as if it depended on them
I to bring it into the world. It has been in the world these
many centuries. The new Jerusalem came down from Heaven
with all essential parts in place, having the glory of God, and
the wall built of precious stones, each of the twelve large gates
■ consisting of a single pearl. Nations walked in the light of it,
and kings brought their honor and glory into it, After several
centuries the streets and houses and watl of the New Jerusalem
I became to the nations and kings as common a sight as the
sun in the sky. To appreciate the value of what is thus com-
mon requires more effort than men are disposed to put forth.
How seldom we reflect on the immense benefits we derive from
the sun ! And in the case of the New Jerusalem it was easy
to find fault. Centuries of peace had lulled the officials of that
city into too great a sense of security, and the nations began

172

Christian unity.

[Nov.,

come the head of a formidable secession. Place John Wesley
at Rome. He is certain to be the first general of a new so-
ciety devoted to the interests and honor of the Church. Place
St. Teresa in London, Her restless enthusiasm ferments into
madness. . . . Place Joanna Southcote at Rome. She
founds an order of barefooted Carmelites, every one of whom
is ready to suffer martyrdom for the Church."

These particular results might not follow, but ihe general
contrast is undeniable. Macaulay's explanation is, that the
rulers of the Catholic Church have, by centuries of experience,
learned how to deal with enthusiasm. He says :

" The polity of the Church of Rome is the very master-
piece of human wisdom. The experience of twelve hundred
eventful years, the ingenuity and patient care of forty genera-
tions of statesmen, have improved that polity to such perfec-
tion that, among the contrivances which have been devised
for deceiving and controlling mankind, it cccupics the highest
place."

We can pass over the word "deceiving " as that of a Prot-
estant; but what is the value of his explanation? The ac-
cumulated experience of the Catholic Church must be extreme-
ly valuable, of course, when proposed constitutions have to be
examined or disputes settled ; but that alone does not account
for the fact that Religious Orders flourish in the Church with-
out causing divisions. They flourished in the Church before
those " forty generations of statesmen '* began their work.
And when we examine in detail the founding of recent flour-
ishing orders, we find that they showed no tendency to seces-
sion ; that they adopted their constitutions, their manner of
life, and forms of dress, before the governing authoritits in
the Church took any action ; and that when they asked to be
formally incorporated, so to speak, in the Church, the action
of the governing authorities confined itself to consenting or
approving. Macaulay's explanation does not square with the
facts, except to this extent, that good government in the
Church is a necessary condition of the existence of Religious
Orders, as good government in the state is a necessary condi-
tion of the existence of flourishing industrial ccmpanies. Social
peace, whether in Church or State, results from a combination
of several causes, one of which is wisdom in government. If
the orders had not found in the Church solidity of faith and

1903.

Christian Unity.

173

inexhaustible resources of spiritual life, no amount of wise
statesmanship could account for their age-long vigor. Solid
faith and permanent spiritual life are beyond the " ingenuity
and patient care " of human wisdom to devise. It is a sim-
pler explanation, as well as more consistent in a Christian, to
say that the oldest, the largest, and the strongest Institution
of Christendom owes its power of control to the wisdom and
power of Christ. John Wesley's explanation of the contrast in
question would have differed materially from that of Macaulay,
as may be inferred from his words regarding converts: "What
wonder is it that we have so many converts to Popery and so
few to Protestantism, when the former are sure to want noth-
ing, and the latter almost to starve?" That is, he found
spiritual food plentiful in the Catholic Church, and scarce in
the Protestantism of his day. He thought he had supplied
the needs of the latter by his society of Methodists, and he
did do much to revive faith in the reality of God's grace;
but a century of experience has told how all such efforts
among Protestants must end in the multiplication of sects, —
there are seventeen Methodist sects in the United States,-— in
extravagances of religious sentiment, in subsequent reaction
and loss of faith, and in final submission to the ways of the
world.

THE ONLY WAY,

Christian Unity is a vaster and higher structure than it is
assumed to be by those who talk as if it depended on them
to bring it into the world. It has been in the world these
many centuries. The new Jerusalem came down from Heaven
with all essential parts in place, having the glory of God, and
the wall built of precious stones, each of the twelve large gates
consisting of a single pearl. Nations walked in the light of it,
and kings brought their honor and glory into It. After several
centuries the streets and houses and wall of the New Jerusalem
became to the nations and kings as common a sight as the
sun in the sky. To appreciate the value of what is thus com-
mon requires more effort than men are disposed to put forth.
How seldom we reflect on the immense benefits we derive from
the sunt And in the case of the New Jerusalem it was easy
to find fault. Centuries of peace had lulled the officials of that
city into too great a sense of security, and the nations began

i85

Gabrielle.

ov.

wiser than I to see this matter in its true light. Go to Father
Andre and tell him what you have toid me. Ah, bon Dieu,"
she continued, dropping the girl's hands and clasping her own,
" not by further bloodshed will France be regenerated ; but by
discipline and pain. We need the voice of one crying in the
wilderness, one who will preach to the hearts of sinful men.
The time is not yet, but the day will come when France will
rise from her ashes, beautiful, glorious, without spot or wrinkle,
or any such thing."

She seemed not to see when Gabrielle courtesied and left
the room. Softly the nun passed into the chapel beyond, and
fell on her knees in her stall. Long and earnestly she prayed
for herself, her nuns, for France.

*^ A moi le travail," she said. '* A moi le travail, P humilia-
tion, si Notre Seigneur men Jtige digne. A Dieu seul la gloire."

Gradually the twilight descended, and all was darkness,
save where the red light burned in the sanctuary. In the
heart of Mere Angelique, in spite of uncertainty, was that
peace which the world can neither give nor take away.

" Eugene, cher ami, listen to me."

The speaker stood in a deep oriel window, framed in a
background of rich red damask curtains, that brought into
relief the raven blackness of her hair and the delicate ivory ■
fairness of her skin. Clad from head to foot in white, Gabri-
elle de St. Denis was in her own drawing-room ; before her
one of the handsomest and most chivalrous men in France.
It mattered little to her just then that he had been pleading
for her hand and for her; other and more weighty matters ■
occupied her mind. 1

Ojving to the troubled state of the times the young heiress
of St. Dinis had grown up with more freedom and less for-
mality than was usual in a French demoiselle. Hence the
young Vicomte de Morlet, whose estate adjoined hers, and
who had been her friend and companion from childhood, had
dined with her that night ; and now Madame de Vignon hav-
ing fallen asleep in her chair, her ward and the vicomte had
passed into the drawing-room, and were ensconced in the deep
oriel window that looked out over the ravine. Tradition had
it that this window covered the very spot where the first lord of
St. Denis had narrowly missed death from the archer's shaft.

I903.J

GABRIELLE.

187

The interior of the castle had been improved and furnished
by succeeding members of the family, without destroying its
dignity or architectural beauty, until it was now one of the
handsomest and most luxurious of the old residences of France.
The title had become extinct; but the money and lands de-
scended to the young girl, and to her heirs, if she had any.

Love, money, lands, youth, and beauty were, however, far
from Gabfielle de St. Denis that night. Her whole being was
wrought up to a passionate protest against the weight of
tyranny and uncertainty under which France groaned.

"Listen, mon ami," she said; "this is not a time for us
to think of marrying and giving in marriage ; our country is
in the throes of mortal agony, and U bon Dieu alone knows
what the outcome will be. Rouse yourself, Eugene, and think—-
think of something besides mc."
"How can I?" he said.
She made a gesture of superb scorn.

"Oh you men!" she cried; "you think of nothing but
love till you have won, and then — you forget."

" Ah, est-ce possible / " he answered, with a smile in his
dark eyes; and then he straightened up.

" Gabrielle c/ttre" ht said, "you think me indifferent, but I
am not so; gladly would I bring back to France her Catholic
kings and her Catholic faith, but as yet nothing can be done ;
we nobles who have so far escaped the guillotine are bour.d
hand and foot. Any day our castles may be seized, and our
own lives pay the forfeit. It is only so far by the faithfulness
of our retainers and the mercy of God that we have remained
unmolested. Ah Gabrielle, tnon ccvur / " he continued, as she
did not speak, " not a day passes that the motto of the De
Morlets does not ring in my ears : ' Je fais fort, et jc falaise ' —
I make me strong and I persevere. We Catholic men of
France must gird up our loins ; for the time will come when
our country will need her best and noblest sons,"

She was weeping now — this girl with her passionate love
and loyalty for her faith and her be//t patrie. Of such is the
real France — the France of St. Remy, of St. Louis, of Fene-
lon ; of a long line of saints and kings and illustrious men,
whose glorious light can never grow dim.

Swayed by different emotions Gabrielle thought one moment
that she would unfold to the vicomte her plan to go to Paris

188

Gabrielle.

[Nov.,

with the avowed purpose of slaying the man who then ruled
France; but on second thoughts she decided to keep it a
secret. Well she knew that to tell Eugene her intentions
would be to have them all frustrated. She must act quickly,
she thought, and secretly — ere it be too late. Of herself she
thought nothing. What man or woman with a like purpose
ever does, She might escape, or her own life might pay the
forfeit; "in her present tense, exalted state it mattered little.

Meanwhile here was a man who, in spite of republics or
empires, must be dealt with — one who demanded and deserved
an answer ; so she turned to the young vicomte, who stood
now beneath a shaded crystal lamp lit by wax candles, all the
light radiating on his handsome, refined face and figure,

" Eugene cher," she said, " you deserve an answer, and you
shall have it. I do not say No, yet for the present I cannot
say Yes. The thought of all the suffering hearts in our be-
loved patrie, and the exiles near and far, would haunt me.
When I know that the pain is less, or, Dieu willing, happily
over, then — " she drew near him as she spoke, all the subtle
fftscination of her eyes, her smile, her low, thrilling voice, in
the words, — "then, Eugene, I will marry you."

Like a chevalier of old the vicomte fell on one knee be-
fore her; some instinct told him that in her present mood the
young girl would not tolerate any deeper expression of his
devotion and joy.

Even had Gabrielle wished to follow Mere Angelique's advice
iWd consult Father Andre, she was at present unacquainted
with his whereabouts. The year 1 793 was not one when a
prient could openly stay at his post and say Mass in France.

Merc Angelique and her nuns had remained in their con-
vent up to the present time, with a few of the children (many
of thcni orphaned by the Revolution) in their care. But Mass
Wttii said secretly, and only at intervals when the devoted priest
couhl come to them.

Hrijce Gibrielle determined to undertake her difficult journey
unknown to any one except her maid Jeanne, who had been
her bonntt and had lived with her since her childhood.
Jeanne'i father and mother had a little shop in an obscure by-
street in Paris, and the young girl decided to go to them,
UltACCompanied save by the faithful maid. Disguised as a peasant.

1905]

Gabrielle.

189

she thought she could travel unobserved and unmolested. Of
thj discomforts of the journey, that would occupy ten days or
two weeks, and must be made by diligence, she thought little.
Gibrielle unfolded to Jeanne part of her plans. She must go
to Paris on important business, unknown to her aunt, and
secretly; would Monsieur le Pere take her in ? Jeanne was sure
he would. The times were full of trouble; but her parents,
thank God ! had kept their little shop unmolested. Mademoi-
selle would be safe there, and could stay as long as she wished.
So one dark night mistress and maid, disguised like
peasants, and carrying each a small bundle, took the evening
diligence that left the village every three or four weeks for
Paris. They were the only passengers at the start, but some
leagues beyond a stoat country girl with a fresh, pleasant face,
and later four men and a woman and child, were added to
their party. For the rest of the night the occupants of the
coach slept more or less well ; but at daybreak they stopped
at an inn, and in an hour were off again with fresh horses.

Gibrielle was disinclined for conversation ; but she realized
that it would be safer to talk and keep up as far as possible
the role she had assumed. Addressing the rosy-faced country
girl she asked her if she had far to go. "To Paris," was the
answer ; and one of the men inquired, with an attempt at
joviality, if she was going to see Marie Antoinette.

" Ah, the poor queen I " said his companion, who did not
seem to mind airing his political opinions, "it was a bad day
for her when she failed to escape from France ; and now she is
locked up in the Concietgerie."

** What will you, mon frere ? " said the third man, who had
liol yet spj'cen; "the country has no more need of kings and
queens, and there are but two alternatives — the guillotine or
the prison. For myself, give me freedom and Robespierre."

The country girl's eyes flashed. " What say you, mon-
sieur ? " she queried, leaning forward. " You think France is
prospering under those tyrants in Paris. Better the rule of the
king, with law and order, than the bloodshed and violence that
now run riot over our patrie."

'* Mais petite," said the man who had first spoken, "talk
not so loud or that pretty head of yours may yet roll off the
guillotine."

It seemed to Gibrielle as if the journey were endless — day

I90

Gabrielle.

ov.

sacceeded day, with an occasional night in some wayside inn.
She wondered if her aunt and the vicomte would make any
effort to find her, and whether she would indeed ever see
them again.

On the tenth day of their journey they were ncaring Paris,
and about noon they stopped to water the horses and let the
passengers get something to eat. Their fare eti route had been
meagre; but Gabrielle's strong young body had so far resisted
all hardships.

She was standing in the courtyard of the inn when the
rosy>faced country girl, who had so plainly shown her
sympathies for the unhappy Bourbons, drew near. Gabrielle
was struck by her handsome appearance and look of intelligence.

" We are nearing Paris, and will soon have to part, made-
moiselle," she said.

The country girl flashed a keen glance at her, and Gabrielle
bit her Up, remembering that "mademoiselle" was hardly a
form of address used between two supposed peasants.

'* It is a sad world, tnon amie," was the answer, " meetings
and partings, and always the duty beyond. I myself have left
my home for ever, and Paris is an unknown country."

The words chimed in so well with Gabrielle's own mood
that she moved nearer to her companion with kindly sympathy.

"Have you only just left your home?" she asked. |

" Mv», midenioiselle," was the answer. " I am from Caen,
siui have been in Paris for a month until a week ago, when
lUity called me in your direction for a time. I am returning
to Pari* and an unknown future now."

'* I loo have an unknown future before me," said Gabrielle,
"•nil P*ri» this unhappy year is full of dangers; but, like you,
duty h«i called me there."

*• AtUHiieg, dfmoisetics," called the guard ; " time passes and
^ mual reach Paris to- night."

riip two girls hurried to the coach, and no further private
tOnvtrtftllon could take place between them; but about nine
iiVluck th«t ni^ht they drove into Paris and the diligence drew
\\\\ Mt the Uimiclry on the banks of the Seine. The ntaitre
</'4tW CMme (Hit with a rushlight and held it aloft while the
|i«ii»finu«rs dlamounted.

*' ll U nut far from here to my father's shop," said Jeanne,
*'iiii»l wo tan walk there in half an hour."

1 903-]

Gabrielle.

191

•

Gabrielle was both tired and stifT as she made her way in
the courtyard of the hotel while Jeanne paid their fare. In the
confusion attendant on their arrival she found herself near the
country girl, and took the opportunity to say farewell. " I
trust we may meet again," she said pleasantly, " and that
better days will yet dawn for France " ; and then, with her
most engaging smile, she added: "Won't you tell me your
name before we part ? Mine is Gabrielle de St. Denis."

"Ah, mademoiselle," whispered the other, "you are no
more a peasant than I am. I divined it this morning. God
knows what the future holds for France ; but if she is ever
delivered from her present bondage, think of me and remem-
ber my name as Charlotte Corday."

She was gone after an instant's strong clasp of the hand,
leaving Gabrielle to wonder, as she followed Jeanne down the
dark, uneven street, who she could be, and what her mission
in Paris was.

Gabrielle remained two days in the little room above the
shop that Jeanne's parents made ready for her. On the third
day she determined to start out on her mission, having so
arranged matters that Jeanne and her mother were both out
when Gabrielle herself slipped out of the front door, unobserved
by the Citoyen Flavel, who was smoking a pipe and dozing in
the rear of his shop. Desiring to attract as little attention as
possible, she was clad in black, with a light veil partly .con-
cealing her face. In the folds of her dress she carried a loaded
pistol that had been her father's.

On starting out she decided to take a short waik before
proceeding to her destination, for, while not lacking in courage,
she began to feel the strain of her present position, and she
knew that her hand must be firm and her aim sure if she
would succeed. Traversing several squares, she turned into an
almost deserted by-street; the sound of carriage wheels at the
same time turning out of the main thoroughfare smote on her
car.

"We arrest you, mademoiselle," said a low voice, "for con-
spiring against the government."

A shock of surprise, and a sickening feeling of failure came
over Gabrielle.

" I am sorry, mademoiselle/' said the gendarme "but I
VOL. uxxviii. — 13

192

Gabrielle.

[Nov.,

must ask you to step in this carriage," holding open the door
as he spoke.

To resist would be to have a scene, and the man had
spoken far more respectfully than was to be expected ; so
quietly, and without having uttered a word, Gabrielle stepped
in the waiting coupe, shrinking back in one corner when the
gendarme, as in duty bound, took the vacant seat beside her. M
They were driven rapidly to a small prison in the eastern part
of Paris, and half an hour later Gabrielle found herself locked
up in a cell at the end of a long stone corridor, alone, all her
plans a failure; and with her aunt and the Vicomte de Mor-
let totally ignorant of her present state.

It chanced that Jeanne suspected more than her mistress
thought. What was on foot she did not know ; but there was
a mystery, and she, Jeanne, must fathom it. Hence while she
had seemed to start out on the errand on which her mistress
had sent her, she had in reality followed Gabrielle, had wit-
nessed her arrest, and comprehended that here was serious
trouble. She was hurrying home to consult her father and
mother, when a turn in the street brought her face to face
with the Vicomte de Morlet and Amed(^e, an old and faithful
retainer of the St. Denis family. Jeanne knew them instantly,
though both men were dressed as mechanics. She exclaimed,
and then checked herself.

"Come with me, monsieur," she said in a low voice, "and
I will explain all about mademoiselle ; but we must be quick."

Fifteen minutes' walking brought them to the little shop, I
and in ten minutes De Morlet had heard all there was to tell.

Discovering Gabrielle's flight early the day after her de-
parture, the vicomte, summoned by the Comtesse de Vignon
and further enlightened by Mere Angelique, had realized fully
all that the young girl was about to do and dare; and at
great risk to himself he had followed her to Paris as rapidly
as possible, accompanied by Amedee and the Comtesse. Had
it not been that immediate action was necessary, the girl's
recklessness and daring would have appalled him. To get her
out of prison and then, if possible, to get her, the comtesse,
and himself out of France as speedily as possible, was the
plan he decided on.

Meanwhile, in the three days' solitude that had been her

)

1903-]

Gabrielle.

I9J

portion, seeing no one but the geolier who brought her
meals, Gabrielle had begun to see matters in their true light
Lying face downward on her narrow iron cot, the young girl
thought of Mere Angelique, of the noble forgiveness and char-
ity that animated the old nun in the face of constant peril
and uncertainty.

"Ah, ma mire!" thought Gabrielle, "you were right; and
I in my pride could not see it. It was murder I had in my
heart, and I thought it a high and exalted love for France,
Forgive me, mon Dieu" she prayed, " forgive me, and assist
me to bear with courage whatever comes."

Her abasement was complete; but there still lingered in her
breast the courage of a true St. Denis, bidding her bear all
things while acknowledging her defeat

Who had become cognizant of her plans and betrayed her ?
she wondered. She had said nothing on her ten days' journey
to Paris that could incriminate her. Was it possible that any
one of alien sympathies could have overheard her conversation
with Mere Angelique ?

On the fourth day after her capture the door of her cell
opened to admit the geolier.

"Mademoiselle," he said, "a priest wishes to see you; you
will be given ten minutes to converse with him; at the end
of that time he must go."

The young girl arose. She more than suspected that the
man was not a priest, but some one sent in that garb to try
and extort a confession from her, knowing well that at that
time no real priest would be granted free access to a penitent,
or be able to walk about Paris unmolested. She would be
very sure, she thought, before she unburdened her heart, as
she longed to do.

As a matter of fact the geolier himself had been deceived
into believing that it was a sham priest, sent by the govern-
ment to find out the prisoner's plot ; so he stood aside to
give entrance to a tall, dignified-looking man with white hair,
and wearing spectacles.

" Benedictus qui venit in Nomine Domini," he said, making
the sign of the cross over the young girl as he entered.
Then, placing the only chair that the cell aflForded alongside the
small wooden table that stood by Gabrielle's bed, he motioned
to her to kneel down, the while he seated himself in the chair.

" In Nomine Patris," he said in a loud voice, just as the
door closed after the geolier with a resounding clang; then in
a low voice he continued :

" My daughter, time is short and I must talk to you ; do

not start or exclaim at anything I may say " ; and then in a

still lower tone, and in his natural voice, he added " Gabrielle ! "

It was De Morlct ! By a supreme effort of self-control

abrielle neither turned her head nor moved, as her lover

ntinucd rapidly :

" Listen, and give no sign, for the very walls may have

yes. The j^o/irr thinks I am a spy sent by the government.

have bribed his wife by giving her an enormous geolagc and

Tomising her another as soon as you are free. To-morrow

at nine they expect to bring you before the authorities; and

your pliuis are discovered it will surely lead to the guillo-

e. Bat hav« courage ! At five the woman will come to

a. You are to put on the clothes she brings, and thqn

down this corridor, turn to your left, and go out of the

n door. You will have a basket on your arm as if you

ir«r« gotQg to market, and I shall be waiting for you in the

costume of a mechanic; you must follow me at a distance until

I |oin you. Do you understand ? "

*' Yes»" answered Gabrielle in a low voice.
" Above all," continued De Morlet, " have no fear ; every-
thing depends on your being brave and collected. Once out-
»>\lc the prison, walk slowly; and don't seem to notice me."
rhen he aroM as the gtMitr turned the key in the door.
'* Time is up, m^m /^rv," he said, with a malicious look at
the youni; girl who stood with clasped hands and downcast
tyet. No doubt she had confessed all!

^'' O^mk^Hi ■¥*HiCHmy said De Morlet; and then replacing
KU HM on his head, and gathering his long cloak around him,
H* Uiiupil And left the coll, the door of which was closed and
U>v K«d by the ^*\Uur,

(UhritUe flow to the door; but no sound reached her.
\Vo«ld he iiiicce«d ? — he who had risked so much for her, and
wht>m tho now know was so inexpressibly dear. The young
Ulil \\A\ WW hei knees by the small iron bed in an agony of
i«i«(t«nif Aiui pray at.

"CM/ ^i«t^ ^H* ^ pichiurs, pray for him," she said.

I903J

GABRIELLE.

195

I
I

"We must be quick, mademoiselle," said the geolicre. "At
this hour the place is almost deserted, and I think you will
not encounter any one ; but if you do, bend your head and
hurry by."

She began to dress the young girl rapidly as she spoke.

"But you, madame," said Gabrielle, — "you will suffer for
me."

The woman threw back her head and laughed:

" Not I," she said. " I have a duplicate of all the keys
here. As soon as I know you are outside I shall get out of
here myself and hurry back to my rooms ; then I will burn
your clothes. Voila ! They will find the bird fiown when they
come for- you, and no one they can lay hold of who has
done the deed ! My husband, stupid fellow, knows nothing."
She began to hum a French ditty as she spoke, with superb
unconcern, the while her deft fingers rapidly dressed Gabrielle
in her clothes. In another moment this second Dcforge opened
the door, and listening intently for a moment, nodded.

" My husband is asleep," she said, " and at this time I
always go to the market, so he wont miss me when he
awakes. He always goes to the- upper corridor first, and while
he is there I will slip back to our rooms. Courage, made-
moiselle," she added, as she gave a final pull^o Gabrtelle's shawl.

It seemed an eternity to the young girl before she safely
reached the street. A rapid glance showed her De Morlet on
the opposite side of the way, dressed, as he had said he
would be, like a mechanic. He began walking slowly along

the Rue , on which the prison stood ; then turning north,

he quickened his pace a little. Not once did he look back;
and Gabrielle followed, trembling so at first that she could
hardly control herself. A few work people and peasants from
the suburbs, as well as some women on their way to market,
passed by ; but she noticed with relief that no one seemed to
observe her. Her courage rose as they got further and fur-
ther from the prison. The occasional noise of a passing cart,
and the cries of the street hawkers, served to take some of
the strain from her nerves.

A stout country-woman passed her with a heavy basket
poised lightly on her head.

*" Praises, oh les belles /raises,' " she sang; "'r' rises a la
iOHce, chasselas lir Fontainebleau."

196 GABRIELLE. [Nov.,

" Po-ois verts" called out a passing hawker.

" Po-ois verts t 'v' ia d't artichauts, de beaux a articAauts'."

It was a long walk, when at last, with a sigh of relief,
Gabrielle saw De Morlet pause, turn around, and as if satisfied
that danger was past, come toward her. In a moment they
wpre side by side, and in a second a closed caliche drove up,
on the box seat the faithful Am^d^e, and within the convey-
ance was the comtesse, very pale and almost unable to speak.

"We are safe, I think, ma cAere," said De Morlet; "but
we must get out of France without loss of time. I have a
passport which will, I think, take us safely to the coast." He
handed Gabrielle into the caliche, telling her to change her
dress ; and mounting the box by Am^d^e, they were soon out
in the country, driving rapidly. At a place in the road where
stood a clump of trees De Morlet dismounted and changed
his own clothes; then rolling up his own and Gabrielle's dis-
carded costumes, he hid them under heavy stones.

" Everything has been done so secretly," he said, " that no
breath of it is abroad. If we are questioned en route, I am
the Citoyen Deschamps, taking my father, mother, and sister
to Havre, where we have a shop on the quai."

So skilfully had De Morlet managed everything, that if
they were pursue4 they were not found, nor had they any
trouble in reaching Havre. Twice their passport was exam-
ined by gendarmes ; but so skilfully did they all play their
assumed role that they were not suspected.

In a week they reached Havre, and the morning after their
arrival a courier brought the news of the assassination of
Marat by Charlotte Corday. Remembering the name of her
companion en route to Paris, Gabrielle was profoundly moved.
How strange that they had been bent on the same mission,
a,nd that one had failed and the other succeeded !

To De Morlet, however, this intelligence presented a fresh
element of danger, for fear the government would think Gabri-
elle an accomplice of Corday's, and redouble their efforts to
find her ; so he lost no time in hurrying them all on board a
waiting ship, nor did he breathe freely until the captain had
weighed anchor, and they had turned their backs on France.
It was a moonlight night in July, allowing Eugene and Gabri-
elle to stay on deck long after every one else had gone below.
The fast vanishing shores of France stood out in the clear

Gabrielle.

19;

light of the moon — France, beautiful, glorious, and yet so un-
happy, for whose highest good these two souls, so soon to be
united, would seek to live when they should some day return
to her shores. A shadow fell across the deck, sharply outlined
in the brilliant light, and the next moment a tall, dark figure
stood by their side.

" Peace, my children ! " he said.

"Father Andre!" they both exclaimed, recognizing with
]oy the good old priest who had loved them and ministered to
them all their lives.

But it was a solemn moment for the good cure, as for
tJiem, for he, at least, was leaving France for ever.

The garb of a priest covers but does not stifle the heart of
a Frenchman, and that of Pere Andre was wrung with anguish
for his afflicted patrie.

For half an hour the trio, each of whom in his own way
had just passed through such peril and emotion, sat on deck
and talked of France past and future, of the king and queen,
of the heroic souls who had perished in the Revolution, and
of their own marvellous escape, until finally it was time to go
below for the night.

Gabrielle arose, and simultaneously they all three turned
and faced the shore of France. By a common instinct the two
men raised their hats, the while the priest made over his coun-
try the sign of the cross.

" mon Dieu ! " he said in French, and in a voice that
again and again trembled and broke: "O mon Dieu! the
Heathen are come into Thine inheritance, they have defiled
Thy holy temple: they have made Jerusalem as a garner of
fruit.

" Not here, O Lord," he said, " but elsewhere, Thy saints
shall flourish like the lily, and be like the odor of balsam be-
fore Thee."

" They have poured out their blood like water round about
Jerusalem. . We are become a reproach to our neigh-

bors; a scorn and derision unto them that are round about us,
Remember not our iniquities; let Thy mercies speedily prevent
us. . , . Remember not our iniquities, but let Thy mer-
cies speedily prevent us!"

198

A Year in Paradise,

[Nov.,

P ^BAI^ IN gAI^ADISB.

BY STEPHEN A. HURLBUT.

YEAR in Paradise! This hast thou known,
And all its changing seasons hast thou seen ;
What suns rise there, what winds are blown
O'er golden fields, the lilies in between.

And 'mid the blessed ones of that far land
Who circle in their singing near the throne,

What face of friend, what touch of well-known hand
Didst thou find there, now fairer, wiser grown?

And do they joy to keep high festival.

Those saints of God beyond the heavenly birth?

A« day succeeds to day do they recall

The feasts well loved of old when here on earth ?

Or may some faint, far perfume penetrate

Their distant home, of earthly incense swung.

Bearing aloft to them its precious freight.

Our prayers of faith, our tears in anguish wrung?

How seemed it then, on that great day in Heaven,
When through the open doors the angels' song

Proclaimed once more "to us a Child is given,"

Anil "peace on earth" with right succeeding wrong?

Ami what of that sad hour with struggle fraught

Whrrein the Lord of life was crucified ?
C'wmo there within the courts of glory aught

Of KAdness, aught to human grief allied?

\S\\\ rather joy that death's brief reign was o'er,
And Life for Love the victory had won;

ThrtI niiw the (laming sword was sheathed once more,
SVlUth guarded all that way to Avalon,

»903.]

A Year in Paradise,

And from the white-robed angel didst thou hear
His story of the opened grave in Galilee;

The early morn, the holy women's fear,

The stone removed, the grave clothes lying free ?

Each loving detail we too heard that day,

And hearing, knew our hopes of life grow strong.

As, glad to meet our Lord upon His way,
We turned our steps the garden path along.

When soon we saw the portals opening wide
To greet the Eternal Son, as upward borne

The King of Glory took His seat beside

His Father's own right Hand. Upon that morn

Did angel voices join with ours betow,

And did thy sweet acclaim with theirs combine,

While slowly on the heavenly sky did grow
Such perfect dawn as only there may shine ?

A year in Paradise, this hast thou known ;

And once again November days are come,
Bringing to us that feast now dearer grown

Since thou art dwelling in that distant home.

And as our prayers for thee shall thither rise,
Do thou approach once more the children's King,

Content to spend all years in Paradise,
And still for us thine intercession bring.

Bvi af All Saints, tt)oi.

20J LOURDES AND THE NATIONAL PlLGRnfAGE.

LOURDES AND THE NATIONAL PILGRIMAGE OF 1903.

BY L. R. LYNCH.

JHE great National Pilgrimage of France to
Lourdes takes place every year a few days
after the Assumption. This year it was larger
and more imposing than ever, with the excep-
tion perhaps of the national pilgrimage of the
Jubilee year, 1897.

No less than forty thousand pilgrims and eight hundred
sick came from every coiner of France, and met under the
direction of Monseigneur Proterat.

At dawn on the morning of August 21 the "white train**
coming; from Paris and bringing all those who are most sick,

those for whotr science and human skill can do nothing, arrives
at Lourdes. Some are already in an apparent agony, some
cannot move from their bed of sickness, and it seems as if it

I. 1 HE Basilica.

2. TUE Ckvpt.

3. The kosAHV Ciiapei..

were impossible (or them to have arrived at their journey's
end — thirty hours in the train and thirty-two more for a stop
at Poitiers to visit the shrine of St. Radegonde !

Oh ! the suffering, the misery, the hopes, the anticipations,
the " white train " brings with its pilgrims.

I do not think I have ever seen such Faith, such Hope, and
such Charity. The service of charity is all admirably organ-
ized. The men and women who have offered themselves to
care for the sick are there.

The men, the " Brancardiers," all have their straps on,
ready with their stretchers and invalid chairs to convey the
sick to the hospitals. Thes? men are volunteers of all ages,
recruited mostly from the aristocracy, with the Marquis of

202 LOURDES AND THE NATIONAL PILGRIMAGE. [Nov.,

Laurens Castelet at their head. They carry the sick to the
hospital, to the grotto, to the piscines. Their devotion to the
sick, and their self-sacrifice during those hot August days, were
wonderfully edifying.

The nuns and the women volunteers, or hospitalieres, help
the Brancardiers to get their charges down Irom the train.
All thoae who can, walk. Others are wheeled away in their
chairs. Then comes the turn of the very sick. All is done
with care and precaution, but the cries of pain mingle here
and there with the noise and bustle of the station.

A reporter next me asks a young girl of nineteen, who is
in the last stage of consumption :

"You hope that Our Lady of Lourdes will cure you?"

" Oh, yes ! monsieur," she exclaims, with her hands joined.
" It is so beautiful at my age to contemplate the blue sky,
to smell the perfume of the flowers! Though," she added with
a smile, "if the Blessed Virgin wants to take my Wfe for that
of my poor companion, who is suffeiing more than I am " —
designating an old woman with a cancer, evidently unable to
keep from moaning with pain—then she hesitated a minute —
" I accept ! "

" But I don't wish it," said the old woman. " It is not for
youth like yours to depart first."

Nearly everywhere the same resignation, the same hope of
a possibility of a cure.

During the entire day the pilgrim trains continue to arrive
from Paris, Orleans, Lyons, Arras, Toulouse. They are called
the white, the blue, the violet, the green, the orange trains.

Up to midday, Masses are said at the sixty altars of the
three churches built one under the other: the Basilica, the
Crypt, and the Rosary Chapel.

At the Grotto the sick assemble each morning for early
Mass and Communion. The space comprised between the
Grotto and the river Gave-de-Pau — a mere torrent with its
perpetual murmur blending with the prayers— is thronged with
people from five o'clock on.

Lourdes never seems to sleep during pilgrimage- time. Even
in the dead of night — midnight — a Mass is sung in the Rosaiy
Chapel that attracts great numbers.

A lovely sight was the Grotto in the early morning of the

All Pravinc, with Arms in the Form of a Cross. j ^

to the sick^ and the priest comes down amongst them to dis-
tribute Holy Communion to those who cannot move from their
.bed or invalid chair.

It is three o'clock. Already the great place in front of
the Rosary Chapel is black with people. In an hour the most
imposing ceremony of all is to take place — the procession of
the Blessed Sacrament.

The sick are brought from the piscines, and form a double
line in front of the people, on their stretchers and in their
chairs. The Ave, Ave, Ave Maria rises from thousands of
mouths — perhaps I should say souls, for the whole soul -goes
into that one refrain that you hear morning, noon, and night.

204 LOURDES AND THE NATIONAL PILGRIMAGE. [Nov.,

It is the favorite hymn of the people. There are many verses
to it, but the procession, starting from the Grotto and going
up around the statue of Our Lady at the far end of the place,
then on and up nearly to the bridge across the river and back
again, gradually falls into diflferent groups — some singing the re-
frain, some the verses. The consequence is that the refrain domi-
nates, like a great cascade of Aves from many thousand voices.

The Bishop of Tarbes and Cardinal Netto of Lisbon (at
Lourdes with the Portuguese pilgrimage) are present on the
first day. It is the cardinal who carries the Blessed Sacra-
ment, and stops in front of each of the very sick in turn and
blesses them before returning to the steps of the Rosary
Chapel and giving general Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament.

During the procession and blessing the people repeat the
prayers and ejaculations of the priest in charge, joining in
with the sick in their supplications: "Lord, make me walk!

Lord, make me see ! . . . Lord, hear us ! .
Lord, grant our prayers! . . Lord, save us ; we are

perishing ! . . . Lord, he whom you love is sick ! , . .
Lord, if you wish you can cure me! , . . Hosanna! O
Son of David."

I never expect to see a more beautiful sight than the
faces of those poor sick men and women and children, waiting
for their turn to be blessed : hands joined, or arms out in a
cross, each and every one in an attitude of profound devotion
— faith, expectation, hope, resignation.

It is during the procession of the Blessed Sacrament that
most of the miracles take place. 1 shall never forget the first
one I saw. It seems nearly incredible that in this day of
unbelief such things are really to be witnessed.

It occurred after the procession. Suddenly a small crowd
gathered, It grew larger and larger. A voice cried aloud that
a miracle had taken place. We were pressed in, fairly carried
on with the others. . There before us was a lady who

had been paralyzed and unable to walk for the past eight
years — unable, in fact, to put her foot to the ground without
great pain. And now she walked with ease, and was cured !

The people pressed around her, kissed her hands, deluged
her with questions. (It seemed a second miracle for her not
to be smothered !)

Finally her husband, who was wheeling her chair, made a

Greetings to One who was Cutteo.

passage through the crowd, and arising" from her chair, she
walked up the steps of the Rosary Chapel, while the crowd
clapped loudly and followed her, running over the benches in
the chapel, filling up the sanctuary, going anywhere to have
a glimpse of la miraculee.

She recited a decade of the rosary aloud, and the crowd
answered. Then the Brancardiers made room for her, formed
a cordon of their straps, and she walked over to ihe Bureau
des Constatations, folio A^ed by masses of people.

It is there that the doctors, verify the miracles.

This woman was a Madame Petitpierre, wife of a doctor
fro n Givors. She had been operated upon unsuccessfully twice
in 1895 fof 3.n internal malady. Peritonitis followed, and finally
paralysis. She remained paralyzed for eight successive years,
and was given up as incurable by the diflferent doctors and
surgeons to whom she had had recourse. She came to Lourdes
on the 25th of June of this year, and already at the end of ihe
novena on July 2 could take a few steps. The cure was
completed on the 15th of Au^uht and verified at the Bureau
des Constatations as being a miracle.

Perhaps one of the most touching incidents of the National

206 LOURDES AND THE NATIONAL PILGRIMAGE. [Nov.,

Pilgrimage happened on the second day. During the procession
of the Blessed Sacrament a young girl of twenty, Hortense
Irles, jumped up from her invalid's chair, and called out " I
am cured." There came in answer the sound of suppressed
excVamations from the crowd which pressed hastily forward,
but fortunately were kept back by the Brancardiers.

The girl had been suffering from a series of terrible internal
abscesses, and had been unable to walk for the last ten months.

The Brancardiers surrounded her and she remained in the
centre of the open space until the end of the Benediction.

Then followed the usual visit to the Bureau des Constatations.

A little later, on our way up to the hospital, we stopped
to hear the singing in the distance, but gradually approach- A
ing us. It was caused by the miraculee on her way to the li
hospital. The men had kept the crowd from going too
near her, by forming the usual cordon with their straps, but
all were singing the Magnificat at the top of their voices.
They followed her to the hospital, which she entered. Then
some one of the crowd cried out "Vive la Sainte Vierge!"
and every voice in the crowd loudly echoed " Vive la Sainte
Vierge ! " and again " Vive Notre Dame de Lourdes I " — the
men throwing their hats in air and all, the women and children
even, enthusiastically waving their arras.

It was all most touching and wonderful, and in the eyes of
many tears were plainly visible.

The hospital is the scene of the women's greatest devotion
and self-sacrifice. There they vie with each other to get in-
scribed on the lists of those who may care for the sick during
the National, when Lourdes is crowded.

They serve the sick in the refectory, make their beds in the
crowded dormitories, help them dress in the early morning; and
offer their services in every possible way. Each and 'every ome
is appreciated by the bishop and by the director of the pilgrimage. H

On my way from the Grotto one morning I came upon the
Bishop (of Tarbes) and Monseigneur in a side street and knelt
for the Bishop's blessing, hoping he would let me kiss his
ring. The bishop stopped and asked the usual question :

"From what country are you, my child?" When I an-
swered from America, he said :

"Ah! it is the first time I have seen an American amongst

190J.] LOURDES AND THE NATIONAL PILGRIMAGE. 207

the hospitali^res." He let me kiss his ring, and gave me his

blessing and passed on.

In the hospital one comes in contact not only with the
miseries and horrors of humanity that awaken pity, but also
with types of humanity that arouse interest. There we saw
an old peasant woman who had walked all the way from Brit-
tany, starting before Easter. There, too, we met a pilgrim of

" -^ ..

'"-^

Crowds Dispersing after the I'socession.

Saint-Roch, one of those young nuns who receive the habit in
Rome when twenty-eight years of age and go from shrine to
shrine on foot, the world over, praying for everybody. She
bad bare feet, all her belongings were in a cotton sack by her
side, a water-bottle was strung around her waist, a shell on her
shoulder, like the pilgrims of old; she looked as , if she be-
longed to another age. Thus she travelled, penniless, trusting
completely to Providence.

Morning and afternoon the sick are bathed in the cold
waters of the piscines. There, too, many miracles took place
this year.

Helena Duvernct, crippled from a fall and unable to walk,
was partially cured last year, and completely cured this year,
after two baths in the piscines.

VOL. LXXVlll. — 14

nS LOCMDES A.\D THE NATIONAL PILGRIMAGE. [Nov.,

fstT' T h o mas , a Dominican nun from Toulouse, was
cared o£ hernia after a single bath.
Me Jotndot. eight years old, had been obliged to wear
r cast for these three past years to uphold the spinal
■ad was unable to walk on account of the great pain
by the least movement. After a bath in the piscine
aad continued to walk without the slightest pain.
Aao^er, a young girl, suffered from pleurisy. The doctors
Aarvd not remove the bandages holding the drain-tubes for the
back IB the piscine. The child came out cured of the pleurisy,
tkt tabw txmxwg out, and the bandages coming off, in the
bsiribk. aftd dM wounds being completely healed.

The complete Ibt is a long one, and the favors received at
Oiw LmI^'s shrine in the Pyrenees this year during the National
Wl^piflMge ^August 21. 22, 21, and 24) are very numerous.

01 course all these cures mentioned above were permanent
•ii^ dtocttrnd so. after the lapse of some days, by Doctors Bois-
MRlt Uld Coxe» directors of the Bureau des Constatations.

At 8^ht we climbed up to the convent at which we stopped.
It Hood Oft the other side of the river, high on a hill. We
iMlttd down in turn at the Grotto, saw the statue of Our Lady
KiMidlBK out a^inst the black rock, the thousands of men and
^(^jiDktM tn the torchlight procession, each bearing a lighted can-
dlf^ l^nd winding their way in and out of the trees in a 7:igzag
tiw« MP the hilUside and then down around the esplanade, back
|0 ihe Kcvsary Chapel ! We heard the continual echo of Aves
^ttm^^im back to us from the mountains. And then we won-
d^r«d if France's prime minister, Monsieur Combes, after having
fxp#tl^ )K> many religious, deprived the monks of their rights
M Krtnch citicQUS, still thought to make Catholic France trem-
t4f» tml to dostroy the faith of the people.

l.at him look tv> Lourdes, to this National Pilgrimage of
^\^\\k Umot lb»n ever before, whereby it seems that nothing
^^Ov( d«4ilr\\v the fnith and the hope of France's children.

I'hat U»ud, unfaltering chorus of Aves seemed to send to
^^ ..,,....., CvMwhta and his "Bloc" the answer that Catholic
1^. , hv^pt *r« still deeply rooted in the hearts of the

^UdtOW s^l Ki^UCOi So rooted, indeed, that the present per>
tKHtU^U« W*H bMkI BMkN IK growth the stronger and its blos-
•W^UUK \\\^^f% gMottt whtn the days of suffering are over.

«903.]

Some Night Refuges in Paris,

209

SOME NIGHT REFUGES IN PARIS.

nv THE COMTESSE DE COURSON.

^OME months ago one of the most popular insti-
tutions in Paris celebrated its silvei wedding.

The friends, patrons, and directors of the
work assembled at 59 Rue de Tocqueville, with-
in the precincts of the first night refuge, founded
a quarter of a century ago by the " Hospitalite de Nuit.'*
Here every night the doors open wide to admit the waifs and
strays, the hungry and homeless of the great city. Above the
door shines a tiny blue light, truly a star of hope in the
darkness and gloom, and within is an atmosphere of warmth
and cleanliness, of cordial kindness and Christian charity.

The Count d'Haussonville, a member of .the French Aca-
demy, as well known for his interest in philanthropic works as
for his literary talent, presided over the assembly. Around
him, on a raised platform, were grouped the generous Parisian
Catholics whose names are to be seen at the head of every
charitable undertaking, who give not only their money to bene-
fit others, but also, a yet more precious gift, their time and
trouble.

These are the men who, we trust, will one day save Paris,
as ten just men might, had they been found, have saved the
doomed cities of Palestine.

In front of the president was gathered a large and sympa-
thetic audience of men and women of the world, interested in
the work. The Hospitalite de Nuit was founded and is directed
by laymen, a fortunate circumstance in the present state of
France, for it places the institution that we are about to pre-
sent to our readers beyond the reach of M. Combes' destruc-
tiveness.

After a most interesting report, read by the Baron de
Livois, who for a quarter of a century has been at the head
of the work, M. d'Haussonville pointed out to his hearers its
social, moral, and religious usefulness, enlarging on the spirit
of broad minded charity which these zealous Catholics extended
to men of every religion, rank, age, and standing.

2IO SOME NIGHT REFUGES IN PARIS. [Nov.,

His words, at the present moment, carry with them a
peculiar meaning. At a time when a religious persecution, the
cruelty of which is hardly realized by foreigners, rages in
France, it is with a feeling of relief that we cling to every
token that points to the existence of better things below the
surface.

Much has been said, with justice, alas! of the faults and
failings of the French Catholics as a political body; but their
charity, it must be owned, has ever been, and is still, wor-
thy of all praise. Surely this charity pleads in their favor
before the throne of Him who 'promised to reward even a cup
of water, givep for His sake.

The idea that inspired the founders of the night refuges .for
the destitute is not a new one. As far back as the twelfth
century there existed in Paris several hostelries where homeless
wanderers were received free of cost, for a limited time. These
refuges were directed by religious and, though their sanitary
arrangements were certainly inferior to those of the twentieth
century houses which it was our good fortune to visit before
writing these pages, the spirit that pervaded them was the
same.

Modern philanthropy is occasionally aggressively self-com-
placent in its attitude towards the past ; while paying due
homage to the progress of science, a progress from which works
of charity reap the benefit, we should not forget that a loving
spirit of Christian charity, born of deep faith, flourished in
what are contemptuously called the " dark ages."

The Revolution of 1789 swept away the night refuges for
the poor, together with some abuses and many useful institu-
tions, and nearly a hundred years passed by before the charita-
ble foundations of the medixval Catholics were brought back
to life by their twentieth- century descendants.

The first night refuge in modern France was established, not
in Paris but at Marseilles, where on Christmas Day, 1872, a
charitable citizen, M. Massabo, opened an " abri " for men,
which soon became very popular.

Its existence was -made known in Paris two years later, in
1874, and a zealous priest, M. Ardouin, immediately resolved
to found a similar refuge ; but many months were to elapse
before the plan, so generously conceived, took a practical
shape.

1903]

Some Night Refuges in Paris.

211

Experience proves that all religious and charitable founda-
tions, that eventually attain a certain degree of development,
have difficult beginnings, as though God's blessing was in some
mysterious manner attached to the works that are marked with
the sign of the cross. So true is this that the storms that
often assail a good work at the outset may be considered as
the happy signs of its future success.

The early struggles of the Hospitalite de Nuit bear out
this theory. The Baron de Livois and his colleagues, M. de
Beugne, M. de Gosseiin, the Count des Cars, M. Paul Leturc,
and others, warmly encouraged the Abbe Ardouin in his
charitable scheme, but some time passed by before they could
establish it on a firm basis. It was difHcuIt to find a house
suited to their purpose ; then it was more difficult still to col-
lect sufficient funds to start the work ; finally, after many dis-
appointments, a building was hired, 59 Rue de Tocqueville;
the rules of the institution were drawn up, and, on June 2,
1878, the new refuge was solemnly blessed by the cure of the
parish.

The house had been a farm in the not very distant days
when "la plaine Monceau " was an open space, dotted with
cottages, farms, gardens, and fields that covered the ground
where now huge " maisons de rapport," wide avenues, busy
streets, tram cars, and the underground railway, have any-
thing but a rural appearance.

The first arrangements of the refuge were made with a view
to economy, there being, at that period, no definite source of
income to look to. However, it possessed an office, a waiting
room, a bath room and dormitories. The rules laid down for
its government were short and simple, and have practically
remained unchanged to this day.

The object of the work is: ist, to give a free and temporary
shelter for the night to homeless persons, whatever may be their
age, nationality, or religion ; 2d, to relieve their most pressing
needs, as far as is possible.

At the present moment the financial difficulties that
hampered the foundation at its beginning have in a great
measure disappeared.

The legacies bestowed on the Hospitalile de Nuit by many
generous benefactors have been wisely invested by the council
in whose hands is the practical management of the work, and

212 Some Night refuges in Paris. [Nov.,

to this source of income are added the annual donations and
subscriptions that prove the high esteem in which the institu-
tion is held by the public at large.

It was decided that the pensioners should only be allowed
to sleep for three nights in the house, but that the night from
Saturday to Sunday should not count; also that an interval of
two months must elapse between each visit.

. Let us hasten to add that these rules, the prudence of which
will be easily recognized, are frequently put aside by the
directors. They never fail, when it seems to them advisable,
to keep their pensioners longer than three nights ; the regula-
tions of the Hospitality de Nuit easily give way before the
prior claims of Christian charity.

The pensioners get up at 5 or 6 o'clock according to the
time of year; they retire to rest at 9:30; they are forbidden to
smoke and to talk politics ; are bound to make their beds, to
keep silence during prayers, and to submit to the sanitary ar-
rangements that are specified in the rules of the house. Apart
from these obligations, which it must be owned are not diffi-
cult to fulfil, they are perfectly free ; no questions are asked
them as to their past history, and everything is done to make
them feel that they are among friends and well-wishers ; it is
this kindly spirit that goes straight to the hearts of the
wanderers, it makes the atmosphere of the Hospitality de Nuit
different to that of the " asiles " that have lately been established
by the state; o(fi:ial charity, however well organized, must
necessarily lack the divine spark of love.'

The house in the Rue de Tocqueville opened its doors for
the first time on the 2d of June, 1878; three homeless way-
farers came that night to claim its hospitality ; the next day
cams seven, then eighteen, and a fortnight later, thirty-seven.
The founders of the work had not expected such rapid popu-
larity; their accommodation soon proved unequal to the oc-
casion, and twenty more beds were hastily made up.

The news that a night asylum was opened quickly spread
among the homeless population, which, strange to say, is more
numerous in every large city than we should believe possible ;
the little blue light above the open door seemed to point to
a " port of refuge, and attracted the shipwrecked, the wander-
ing, and the hungry."*

• Monsieur E. Caro, General Assembly of 1886,

1903.] Some Night Refuges in Paris. 213

For once, the newspapers of every opinion forgot their
quarrels and praised the new foundation in glowing tetms.
The great Paris shops generously came forward and sent sup-
plies of bedding and linen ; the director of a neighboring
laundry volunteered to do the washing of the establishment and,
with equal charity, a chemist offered to provide free of cost the
remedies that might be needed by the pensioners.

The increasing popularity of the work soon called for the
foundation of a second house in another quarter. This was
made possible through ' the generosity of a wealthy man,
M. Beaudenom de Lamaze. He was staying at Am^lie-les-
Bains, stricken with a mortal disease, when a newspaper article
giving an enthusiastic account of the Hospitality de Nuit fell
into his hands. His attention was arrested and his sympa-
thies enlisted on behalf of the work ; with the considerable sum
that he immediately forwarded to Paris a new refuge was
founded in Rue de Vaugirard. It was opened in June, 1879,
and is called "Maison Lamaze," in memory of the generous
founder to whom it owes its existence.

There are at the present moment four night refuges in
Paris, established and directed by the Hospitality de Nuit.
They are situated, Rue de Tocqueville, Boulevard de Vaugirard,
Rue de Charonne and Rue de Laghouat, and are conveniently
placed in the neighborhood of one or other of the chief rail-
way stations.

The initiative of Baron de Livois and his friends was pro-
ductive of greater results than these earnest-minded Catholics
believed possible.

Within the last few years the " Conseil municipal " — town
council of Paris — and the " Soci^te Philanthropique," whose
name sufficiently explains its object, have started other night
refuges on the lines of the Hospitality de Nuit

On the occasion of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the
foundation, the Count d'Haussonville drew the attention of his
hearers to the fact that in this case, as in many others, the
Catholics led the way.

The mediaeval Catholics were the first in the field ; their
charitable traditions were taken up a quarter of a century ago
by another group of practical Catholics, and now the example
of the latter has been followed far and wide.

Nevertheless there is an atmosphere of cordiality about the

214

Some Night refuges in Paris.

[Nov.,

houses of the Hospitalite de Nuit that the other refuges cer-
tainly lack; there, and there only, the pensioners are treated

as "friends.' These houses have been rebuilt within the last
few years, and are fully equipped with the most modern ap-
pliances for cleansing and disinfecting the jfcrsons and gar-
ments of the inmates. It is seldom that a year passes by
without something being done to increase the comfort and
welfare of the homeless pensioners, who every evening assem-
ble in crowds before the door. For obvious reasons, it was
settled from the outset that to give them a regular meal
would be to encourage the idle, and also to overtax the re-
sources of the work; but alas! the wayfarers were often hun-
gry as well as houseless, and, since 1887, they receive a piece
of bread on their arrival.

Besides this, the director of the house bestows on the old,
the infirm, or the very young, soup tickets for the " fourneaux
economiques " that are established in the poor quarters of Paris
all through the winter. Here, on leaving the refuge, the pos-
sessor of a ticket can have a basin of warm soup.

As we have had occasion to state, all that concerns the
general and financial organization of the Hospitalite de Nuit
is in the hands of a council consisting of over thirty members.
The Baron de Livois ts president : he has under him four
vice-presidents and an efficient staff of treasurers and secre-
taries, but the practical working of each house depends upon
the gt'rant^ or chief in charge, and in this respect the Hospi-
talite de Nuit seems to have been singularly fortunate in its
choice.

The task of playing host to the homeless wayfarers, who
night after night claim the shelter of the refuge, demands a
rare combination of firmness and benevolence.

The pensioners are admitted because they are miserable,
not because they are deserving. Though it often happens
that among them are many interesting characters, it is essen-
tial that their responsible chief should be fitted to command ;
and that, together with broad and generous sympathies, he
should possess sufficient authority to enforce the rules of the
house.

For this reason the gcrants are, as a rule, retired officers ;
anything military appeals strongly to the French people ; the
title '* Mon Capitaine," and the liny red speck, the ribbon of

I903.J

Some Night Refuges in Paris.

215

the Legion of Honor,- that adorns the button-hole of these old
soldiers, have a magic effect upon the waifs and strays that
they are called upon to control.

From what the captains tell us, they have no trouble in
keeping peace and order among their guests; now and then
a drunlcen man stumbles in and is promptly expelled, but this
is all; the pensioners are, as a rule, docile and grateful, and
we have Baron de Livois' word that cases of stealing are ex-
tremely rare.

The object of the Hospitalite de Nuit is not merely to pro-
vide its pensioners with a safe and peaceful shelter ; the prac-
tical Catholics who founded and who still direct the work
have nobler aspirations. Their ultimate aim is to exercise a
certain moral influence over their passing guests; experience
proves that their hopes in this respect are often fulfilled, and
that their clients carry away deeper impressions than those of
merely a good night's rest.

Among the members of the council whose memory is most
closely linked with the work is the Count Amedee des Cars;
his death, a few years ago, deprived the pensioners of a most
devoted friend.

The younger son of a ducal family, whose name is closely
connected with the royalist traditions of the country, Count
des Cars was one of the first members of the council of the
Hospitalite de Nuit. The work appealed strongly to his sym-
pathies, and every evening, without fail, he left his family cir-
cle to spend an hour or two among the homeless wanderers
in the refuge of the Rue Vaugirard.

His friendliness and simplicity won their confidence; his
cheering words went straight to their hearts, and many of
them were, owing to his influence, able to obtain permanent
situations.

No wonder that when this truly good Christian was buried
the Church of Ste. Clotilde was crowded, not only with repre-
sentatives of the old "noblesse/* to whom Count des Cars be-
longed by birth, but also with the waifs and strays for whose
welfare he had so earnestly labored, and whom his family had
invited to be present. It was a curious and pathetic sight;
for once the barriers of rank and fortune were thrown down
by the hand of charity.

The example of men in whom kindness and cordiality have

2l6

Some Night Refuges in Paris.

[Nov.,

their source in deep religious convictions is not wasted upon
their poor proteges. A few years ago the chaplain of one of
the Paris hospitalsj where the nuns have been replaced by lay
nurses, was summoned to the bedside of a dying man, who
earnestly requested his presence. After congratulating his
penitent upon his desire to be reconciled to God, the priest
inquired what had brought about so happy a change in one
who had evidently lived far removed from all religious influ-
ence. "I once was sheltered by the Hospitalite de Nuit," was
the reply.

The kindly welcome, the encouraging words, the night
prayers that are recited in common — all these things had, in
course of time, borne their fruits.

Although they may vary as to details, the general arrange
ments of the different houses arc much the same. Each one
possesses a room where, by means of special appliances, the
pensioner's clothes are thoroughly cleansed ; a vestiaire, where
old hats, coats, boots and shoes, sent by kind friends, are kept
for distribution ; an office, where the pensioners give their
names and exhibit their papers; a waiting-room, provided with
benches, which in winter is well warmed and lighted ; well
aired and lofty dormitories, with bedsteads and bedding plain
but good of their kind, and scrupulously clean.

On the whitewashed walls hangs a large crucifix, reminding
the homeless of Him who, when on earth, knew not where to
lay His head.

Above each bed is inscribed the name of the giver ; some
of these Inscriptions are eloquent in their brevity : "In memory
of our beloved child," "In remembranoe of our daughter."
Mademoiselle Mathilde Weyer, who escaped from the terrible
fire of the Bazar de la Charite, testified her gratitude by giv-
ing a bed ; two other beds, on the contrary, were bestowed in
loving remembrance of Dr. Feulard and his little daughter,
both of whom perished in the fire.

Among the benefactors of the work are persons of every
rank and religion, and above the beds are the names of mer-
chant princes, of millionaires, of the highest French aristocracy,
of Jews and Protestants as well as of Catholics. Around the
couch where the homeless outcast rests his weary head,
men belonging to opposite camps are united by the same
generous impulse, and, in many cases, the memory of the

i903]

Some Night Refuges in Paris,

217

beloved dead is sweetly linked with the charity of the
living.

Every evening, all the year round, in winter snow and
summer sun, the doors of the night asylums open wide from
six o'clock to nine. The first arrivals sit down in the waiting-
room, read or write. They are provided with pen, paper, and
stamps; indeed, on an average, from five to six hundred francs
a year is spent upon postage.

The capitaine in charge of the house of the Rue de Tocque-

ville, M. Andrillon, is a sympathetic and most interesting

character; a real soldier, whose military bearing impresses his

guests while his cordiality wins their confidence. He tells us

that, as a rule, his pensioners are silent and not inclined to

pour forth their experiences to their neighbors. Some of them

have a timid, suspicious look about the eyes; others, 'perhaps

the most deserving, are evidently ill at ease. Their clothes are

old and threadbare, but sometimes there is a pathetic attempt

to keep up appearances, and the well- worn coat is carefully

brushed.

At nine o'clock the captain appears, accompanied by his
secretary ; and, in compliance with the police regulations, the
men are obliged to declare their name, age, and profession.
In return, they are given the name of their dormitory and the
number of their bed, but, before they retire to rest, the cap-
tain reads the rules of the house and generally adds a few
words of encouragement and advice. To wanderers, many of
whom have drunk deeply of the sorrows and evils of life, he
speaks of self-respect, of the dignity of labor, and of the duty
that obliges every man to do his best under all circumstances.
He reminds them too that the founders of the Hospitalite de
Nuit, to whom they owe their night's rest, were inspired by
the wish to benefit their fellow-men, according to the command
laid upon them by God, in whom they believed ; that their
charity was the natural consequence of a faith that teaches its
disciples to suffer patiently and to help each other.

Sometimes a member of the council is present, and addresses
the pensioners ; his words, cordially spoken, give a warmer,
more friendly touch to the occasion.

Night prayers are then said aloud ; no one need join, but
all are expected to remain standing, silent and bareheaded,
while Our Father and Hail Mary are recited. As a rule.

the pensioners join in the prayers willingly and fluently ;
the familiar sounds, sometimes long forgotten, rise unbidden
to their lips. Perchance, the words bring back before the
mental vision of the waifs and strays pathetic memories of the
past; memories of a Norman cottage, among flowering apple-
trees; of a Breton homestead on a gorse- covered lande ; of a
quiet cemetery beneath the shelter of some village church, or
of a procession of white- robed girls and surpliced boys wend-
ing its way between the hedge-rows. ^|

After prayers, the men move on to the dormitories and
undress in silence. Their soiled clothes are carefully and
thoroughly cleansed during the night ; indeed a considerable
iiim is expended every year on camphor, sulphur, etc. Warm
water, soap, and razors are placed at the pensioners' disposal,
and a tailor, attached to the house, is employed to patch up
their worn and often tattered garments. f

With his long experience of men the captain is quick to
form a judgment upon his visitors. He soon recognizes the
incorrigible idler, who prefers begging to work, and only cares
to keep body and soul together with the smallest possible
amount of exertion. His best sympathies, as is natural, are
for the men who, after a brave fight, fail in the struggle for
life, and it is on these that he bestows the cast-off suits, hats,
and boots that are sent to the house by friends and benefac-
tors. Over and over again the timely gift of a respectable
suit of clothes has enabled a man to obtain employment, and
has thus been the means of saving him from despair and utter
ruin. The archives of the Hospitalite de Nuit possess many
letters written by the grateful recipients of these useful
presents. "Without them," writes one man, "I should never
have found a situation." Another time, a professor, the son of
an officer, was given a suit of clothes, and attributed to them
the excellent position he was able to obtain. Similar instances
might be quoted by the hundred ; at least one-third of the
men who seek shelter in the night refuges of the Hospitalite
de Nuit are deserving ot interest and do credit to their bene-
factors.

One evening in September, 1900, a respectable- looking man
passed before the refuge in the Rue de Vaugirard at the hour
when the motley crowd of homeless wayfarers were waiting
for admittance. He stopped, emptied his well-filled purse into

1903.]

Some Night Refuges in Paris.

31^

their hands, and, pointing to the house, said : " I was once
sheltered in that house, and I have never forgotten it. The
Hospitalite de Nuit was my salvation."

It continually happens that small sums, accompanied by
grateful expressions of gratitude, arc brought or sent to the
giranti by former pensioners, who are anxious, in their turn,
to benefit others.

Some are in a position to do more. In I<i82 a charity fete
was given at the Hotel Continental in Paris, with the object
of collecting funds for the work. A gentleman,, irreproachably
attjred, went up to an active member of the council: "You do
not recognize me ? " " No, I fear I do not." " We lately
met at the refuge in the Rue de Tocqueville. " "I suppose
you were curious to visit one of our refuges." " No indeed,"
replied the unknown with a smile, ** I went there to get a bed !
A few days later I was lucky enough to obtain a good posi-
tion, and I made it a point of coming to the fite in order to
contribute twenty- five francs to your excellent work. Pray,
accept my warmest gratitude for the service you and your
colleagues rendered me."

Sometimes eccentric characters find their way to the refuge.
In 1900 the house in the Rue de Tocqueville was visited by
Pfiilogene Viardin, the " walking poet," as he styled himself,
whose ambition was to go round the world on foot, within two
years. He informed the gerant that, if he succeeded in ac-
complishing this feat within the given time, he would win a
sum of 20,000 francs.

Another great walker is a man named Polvcche, who, when
asked his profession, replied "a pilgrim." He had been in-
hrmarian in a hospital in the north of France; in 1896 he
started on foot for Jerusalem, through Belgium, Germany, Austria,
and Bulgaria. He arrived at Constantinople at the end of
eight months, went on to Jerusalem and back, by the same
route, to Paris.

The following year, 1897, the house in the Rue Lamaze
was visited by a young student from Boston, who informed
the gerant that an American society had commissioned him to
study the working of the Hospitalite de Nuit. He insisted on
sleeping in the dormitories and made himself acquainted with
all the details of the management of the house. The young
American's visit was long remembered by the pensioners \ he

220

Some night refuges in Paris.

[Nov.J

gave a good dinner to several among them, coffee to others,
and, some days later, sent a quantity of bread to be dis- ■
tributed.

It often happens that the benefactors of the work treat the
pensioners to a feast. In 1899 ^ kind-hearted butcher, M.
Bayle, gave the men of the Rue de Laghouat broth and meat
during all the month of December; M. Henri Bamberger invari-
ably gives a good meal to the inmates of three refuges in
honor of New Year's day. An anonymous lady, who is a
frequent benefactress, often bestows a large sum on the work,
stipulating that a comfortable meal should be given to all the _
pensioners, ^

The work also appeals strongly to the sympathies of the
working classes in Paris, and gifts of meat, coffee, vegetables,
etc., are often sent to the different houses by the neighboring
trades-people. Those of the Rue Vaugirard are in the habit
of giving the inmates of the Maison Lamazc a cup of hot
coffee and a roll on the morning of the 14th of July, the
national feast of the French Republic.

At its origin the Hospitalite de Nuit only received men ;
now, since 1890, refuges for women and children have been
established in the neighborhood of three houses : Rue de
Tocqueville, Bouievard de Vaugirard, and Rue de Charonne.
They are on a smaller scale than the refuges for men, have a
separate entrance, and are directed on the same lines. We
visited the one of the Rue de Tocqueville ; it is governed by
Madame AndriUon, the capable and kind-hearted wife of the
worthy captain who directs the house next door for men. M

By the side of the spotlessly clean beds for the women are ■
tiny cradles for the babies that they bring with them. One of
these children's beds attracted us; its embroidered curtains and
coverings contrasted with the Spartan simplicity of the place.
It was given to the work, Madame Andrillon informed us, by
bereaved parents, whose only child had breathed its last under
those snow-white draperies 1

Statistics are, as a rule, essentially dry and unattractive ;
but those of the Hospitalite de Nuit have their eloquence and
give us an idea of the development of the work within the last
twenty-five years.

In 1878 there was but one night refuge in Paris — that of the
Rue de Tocqueville. It gave shelter to 2,874 pensioners and

iw]

SOME Night refuges /n pa his.

321

cost 7,316 francs, Ten years later, in 1888, the four houses

of the Hospitalite de Nuit received 82,407 pensioners, 1,340 of

whom were provided with situations by their benefactors.

The sum expended on these four houses was 90,230 francs.

The last statistics, those of 1902, show a certain decrease in

the number of the pensioners ; this is owing to the fact that a

dozen night refuges now exist in Paris, whereas twenty- five

years ago the house in the Rue de Tocqueville was alone of

its kind ; but larger sums have been spent to develop the work

and to add to the well-being of the visitors. In 1902 69,936

pensioners were admitted ; among them were distributed

22^,914 portions of bread, 24,944 soup tickets, and 16,000 articles

of clothing. The expenses of the four houses reached the sum

of 103,859 francs.

Among the pensioners 16 were under 5 years of age and
II" under 10 years; 227 were over 70. The grown men were
chiefly workmen or laborers, but among them were 179
artists, 413 professors, 341 soldiers or sailors.

As we have stated, the accommodation provided for women
by the Hospitalite de Nuit is on a small scale, the Societe
Philanthropique having founded, in difTerent parts of Paris,
several night refuges which are devoted exclusively to women
and children.

Nevertheless in the course of 1903, 2,885 women were re-
ceived in the three asylums founded by Baron de Livois and
his friends; 248 were little girls under 5. The greater number
of the women were servants, but five or six were governesses
or teachers, to whom a safe, respectable shelter and a kindly
reception must have been inexpressibly welcome.

Although the greater number of the guests to whom the
Hospitalite de Nuit opens its doors are French, foreigners from
distant lands often find their way to the refuges. The statis-
tics that we possess enlighten us on this point.

Between the year 187S and the year 1903, 1,502,676 French
subjects, men and women, have been sheltered for the night ;
then come 11,383 Germans, 1,920 British, 10,897 Italians,
1,209 Poles, 2,070 Russians, 279 Turks, 235 Egyptians, 27
Abyssinians, besides many Belgians, Swiss, Norwegians, East
Indians, South Americans, etc.

Before bringing this brief account to a close, let us remind
our readers that the good work founded and supported by a

222

SoAfE NIGHT Refuges in Paris.

[Nov.,

group of French Catholics extends its influence far and wide;
the statistics that we have just quoted only represent a small
portion of its results.

It is to the brave initiative of Baron de Livois and his
devoted colleagues that is due, not only the existence of
the four Paris houses of the Hospitalite de Nuit, but also the
foundation of the night refuges, " Asiles de Nuit," that are
now established in all the great cities of France.

The Catholics led the way, they were the first to revive
the charitable traditions of mediseval times and to provide the
homeless with a safe shelter ; after them, the town council
of Paris, and different charitable and philanthropic societies
followed the lead and established other night refuges on the
same principle.

This is as it should be ; without wishing to ignore the "
good and useful works that are accomplished outside the
church, we rejoice to find her faithful sons well to the front
in every charitable undertaking. The post is theirs by right,
for are they not the true disciples of Him whose words, after
twenty centuries, still urge His followers to deeds of brotherly
kindness? — M

" I was hungry, and you gave me to eat ; I was thirsty, ■
and you gave me to drink ; I was homeless, and you took
me in."

1903]

Non-Catholic missions.

221

I
I

THE TENTH ANNIVERSARY OF NON-CATHOLIC MISSIONS.

BY REV. WILLIAM L. SULLIVAN. C.S.P.

'HE eighteenth of September last was the tenth
birthday of the present systematic non-Catholic
Mission movement in the United States, On that
day, in the year 1893, in the village of Sand
Beach, Michigan, Father ElHott preached the
opening of the great Crusade in which so many others have
since pressed forward to take the cross. The anniversary was
known but to two or three, and was celebrated only with a
Mass of thanksgiving to God for the blessings of these ten
years. Yet we hesitate not to say that many a festival
acclaimed by rauititudes and kept with pomp and pageantry is
less significant and less inspiring. Certainly to the heart of a
Catholic few anniversaries could be more hopeful and more holy.
For generations the Church in this country had been turn-
ing all its energies to the supplying of imperative domestic
needs. It had to keep abreast with the swift march of civiliza-
tion toward unsettled frontiers; it had to care for a huge
European immigration ; it had to give itself up to incessant
and anxious labor lest its zealous activity m building and ad-
ministering should overreach the resources of its precarious
poverty ; it had to fight against deadly prejudice for the cour-
tesy of common toleration ; it had to win its way both
to material stability and to good repute by sheer, laborious
digging and delving. Unobtrusively the work went on.
Silently, as becomes our Catholic tradition, sacrifice after sac-
rifice was made; until, like the house of God on Mount Moriah
which rose beneath the hands of the workmen and no sound
of axe or hammer was heard, the Church in America stood
before the eyes of men in vast and beautiful proportions, a
work worthy of the Most High, well deserving of mankind,
the strongest safeguard of society and the state. For public
worship the great cities had their cathedrals, and every village
its comfortable church ; for the training of priests there were
noble seminaries fitted with every facility for study and re-
search ; for the children, schools everywhere; for young men

VOL. LXXVIII. — 15

224

The tenth anniversary of

ov.

and women, colleges and academies by the hundred, at the head
of which stands a University which shall be, we trust, the first
jewel among our treasures; for the orphans, the sick, and the
aged, homes raised by the charity of the people, and minis-
tered to in tenderness by the consecrated of Christ. The sight
of these things is familiar now ; yet still from time to time we
hear and read of the amazement of the non- Catholic press
and people at the growth of Catholicity. That growth has
been favored indeed with the greatest tribute that the pros-
perity of a just cause can possibly receive : the tribute of the
narrow and the prejudiced ; anger, hatred, and organized per-
secution. But we will not recall that. Born centuries out of
time, the agitation, after the manner of monstrosities, lived
briefly, died to the relief of everybody, and left nothing save
a hideous remembrance behind.

Before we consider the Church's new departure in begin-
ning the work of systematic conversion, a work made possible
only by the prodigious achievements just summarized, we must
give expression to the veneration we feel for the bishops,
priests, and people who were builders and pioneers. Gladly
we confess that we have entered into their labors and built
upon their foundation ; and that if to-day it is possible, prac-
ticable, and opportune to preach the faith to Protestants and
unbelievers, it is because of their lives of humble hardship and
generous sacrifice. To those of that rugged race that are
gone, peace and the sight of God ! To those that still labor
and Jire burdened, our admiration, sympathy, and fraternal love!
Not as implying that they have left any duty unfulfilled, do
wc undertake a work that is new ; but rather as believing
tlutt in striving to gain America to Christ, we are making the
be»t possible use of their heritage of heroism, and are helping
to nniwer their hearts' most earnest prayer.

The desire to make converts is not recent, nor confined to
any man or body of men within the Church. It is as univer-
rnil u« 7,eal, of which it is a manifestation ; and zeal is as uni-
versal n« the Holy Spirit's activity within His Spouse on
ofirth, Even in the earlier days of the Republic, when the
i litirt'h was most poor in means and scant in numbers, the
lonulnij to soe our non-Catholic brethren back in the fold of
llmir lathern, was as strong and as tender as it is to day.
Aii'l wUh that almost prophetic sense of destiny which rested

^901]

NoN- Ca tholic Missions.

225

I
I

like an inspiration upon the great men who laid the political
foundations of the United States, our early bishops and priests
too, we must suppose, were stirred within by mystical assurances
that their faith as well as their country would grow great in
their successors ; that from the weakling infancy which their
eyes beheld, it would rise to lordly stature, until some day,
very far away if compared with the years of human life, but
near when measured by the ages in which God may achieve
his purposes, it would be enthroned in spiritual sovereignly
within this people's hearts. Most certain it is that in substance
the spirit of the non- Cathoiic mission mo%-tment has existed in
the American Church from the beginning. That movement,
therefore, implies no novel dispensation, no untraditional voca-
tion, and no new charismata of grace kept in reserve till now.
Only in practical application is it new, just as every practical
application of ^' Docete omnes gentcs" is, in some manner, new
^when the Gospel is first proclaimed to an age or a people
unfamiliar with its truths and precepts. It was inevitable that
as soon as the more urgent needs of our own people had been
fairly attended to, the Church in this country should enter
upon the work which, from the first year of her history, she
has prosecuted in every other : the work of the apostolic evan-
gelization among those outside her fold.

The time for that work in America has come. About this
there can scarcely be any reasonable doubt. All our bishops
are convinced of it; Leo XIII, expressed his own persuasion
of it in two specific and strongly-worded approbations of non-
Catholic missions; and all who have ever been actively en-
gaged in those missions themselves held it as the first of their
convictions. Never was an age more consciously in need of
sacraments that give grace and of a religious authority that
gives assurance.

The fierce attack made upon Christian belief during the
last sixty years or more, by scientific and biblical criticism,
has fallen back in defeat. Evolution has not destroyed Gc d,
nor has natural selection dethroned Providence. Even should
it be held as beyond doubt that Moses did not write the
Pentateuch as we have it, and that there is a post- exilic por-
tion in Isaias, the Old Testament is none the less an inspired
history of divine dealings with men. Despite Strauss, the Gos-
pel history is held everywhere to-day substantially accurate;

226 THE Tenth Anniversary of [Nov.,

and after all the brilliancy of Renan, the resurrection of our
Lord and the conversion of St. Paul are facts still untouched
by any natural explanation.

The attack has failed, and Christianity with its root in
Christ, and its fair flowering in all the centuries since, has not
been reduced to a human system of ethics, but remains indis-
putably divine. But the onslaught of infidelity has wrought
disaster nevertheless.

Throughout the churches of Protestantism, the impression
has prevailed insidiously that perhaps after all Christianity is
little more than the code of conduct of a good man's con-
science, enhanced by the moral authority of a purely human
Christ who lived without sin or imperfection. In every one
of the sects, formerly so rigid in doctrinal formulations, there
is a horror of all definite statements of belief. There is
uneasiness when the issue is squarely presented : Is there a
miraculous element in Christianity ? Is Christ truly divine ?
Is it a matter not of free choice, but of positive obligation
sanctioned by future punishment in case of culpable negli-
gence, that we should search out all that Christ taught, be-
lieve it and practise it ? Is the Christian religion a divine in-
terposition coming upon us from above, and laying ■ upon us
responsibilities which we can neither put off nor cut into con-
venient sections according to our temper; or is it merely a
high and holy human appeal to our moral nature which meets
us on terms of perfect equality, leaving us free to submit to
as much or as little of it as we will ?

Certainly it is not harsh to say that the Christianity preva-
lently preached from Protestant pulpits is a Christianity which
refuses to be formulated into statements of doctrine; which
seeks to escape such questions as miracle, Christ's divinity,
the nature and the seat of religious authority ; which pro-
fesses no deeper dogmatic content than God's fatherhood and
man's brotherhood, and no wider moral scope than how to be
ethically good.

What is the reason of this tremendous change from the
days when the sects now so watery in creedal consistency were
as very citadels of dogma, bristling with the artillery of
anathema for all who held not the divinity of Christ, baptis-
mal regeneration, future punishment, and the infallible author-
ity of Scripture ? Scepticism is the reason. Scepticism, in-

1903.]

NON- Ca tholjc M/as/ONs.

227

duccd by biblica] and scientific criticism, has eaten away the
?ery foundations of supernatural Christianity, in modern Prot-
estant theology. As a result millions 0/ people who were once
church- members, or whose fathers were, have given up all
profession of Christian belief.

And of those that remain registered upon the church-lists,
millions more are unsettled, apprehensive, wavering, and about
to give way before the storm in which Protestantism shall per-
ish. But we must understand that very few of this bewil-
dered multitude are anti- religious, at least here in the United
States.

In its deepest heart our country is tenaciously Christian.
This consoling assurance would be borne out, I venture to
think, by nearly all missionaries to non-Catholics. It is indeed
a joy, and it gives a priest fresh love for his country, and a
deeper affection for his countrymen, when one has stocd night
after night before those that differ from him in faith, looktd
inlo their manly faces and honest eyes, and seen the perfect
courtesy and grave thoughtfulness with which they receive his
message to their souls.

For they do come to hear us, and they will come, these
noble souls who have lost firm hold on religion, but who have
a strong desire for God ; and they will listen with rapt atten-
tion to all that we can tell them of Catholicity. Let us cease
our doubts about the opportuneness of non- Catholic missions.
This army on the march to infidelity settles the question with
solemn and awful emphasis.

Give a true missionary an audience that vitally needs his
message and will gladly listen to it, and he cannot undcrs-tand,
he will not abide, that prudence which would lock his lips and
turn the souls that famish and are homeless out into the night.
These souls must have proved to them the authority of
Christ. When they understand that the earthly mission of the
Son of God means for them both the glory and the responsi-
bility of believing and practising what He taught and com-
manded ; when they realize that the old beliefs and hopes
and consolations rest on truth impregnable, and that Chris-
tianity is a strong, positive, clear, definite, fearless faith, and
not a timorous fugitive when a healthy intellect would gaze
on it, or an invertebrate sentiment when a faltering heart
would lean upon it, they will joyfully set about rebuilding

228

The Tenth Anniversary of

[Nov..

^vhat has beea torn down. They will begin a search for the
truth of Christ in all its divine integrity; they will assuredlj-
not turn again to the Protestantism which has become apostate
to Gospel teaching and to historic Christianity; but sooner or
later they must by thousands give their allegiance to the
Church which has never been untrue to the creed for which
our fathers of old time lived and died.

A'ready in the intellectual world, where one always finds
the first indications of movements destined to exert great in-
fluence on mankind, signs are appearing that scholarship is
settling toward two conclusions : first, that Christianity has
withstood the searchings of rationalistic criticism, and is
humanly inexplicable; secondly, that if the divine Christ has
l«ft on earth truths to enlighten us and means of grace for
sanctifying us, they are the historic possession of the Catholic
Church.

This impression will grow. It will spread from the univers-
ity to the street, from the specialist to the every-day man,
wA it will lead multitudes to the faith. For a time, of
course, many men will lean strongly toward these conclusions,
without (eeling a decisive impulse to become Catholics. The
scandaU of hi&tor>', the evil lives perhaps of some Catholics
About them, and other such accidental but terribly vivid and
vti^turbinv considerations will stand between them and the
0rtlit«r truths, and keep them from the fulness of the light of
Qo<L livt A wiUcr And wiser philosophy, and the needs of
Ihtir ^WM •outt, will ultimately lead them aright, and they or
Ih^lr cKIMr#n will be of the household of faith.

\\w\ W<» must strengthen into certainty this misgiving in the
mh\d« of Huny of the unchurched, that Christianity is true.
W> MM*( nt>l WAit for time and the slow settling of critical
IHOIU UiiiUM\t, but be active with pen and voice in making mani-
fml )o «\nila tlut the religion of the Redeemer is safe and sure
muUI nil utoiiAcos, and in confronting them once more with its
lu«litsnl and momentous claims.

't'hU U the non- Catholic apostolate, and of its imperishable
liiiiiiirlitnro and most pressing necessity can any one of us
s(M<*(Ulii rt doubt?

H^thUlon this clasit who have lost definite belief through con-
|u|nki» or unconscious scepticism, there is another great body
nf imn (^nthiilu'ii who lay upon us an imperative command that

«903.]

Noi^- Ca tholic Missions.

329

we tell them of the Church. These are the old-fashioned Bible
Christians. Faithful to the Scriptures according to their light;
zealous in good works; ready to follow the Master whitherso-
ever He will lead, for they love Him; very often with a deep
sense of consecration and a sacred love of interior prayer ; how
white for the harvest are they !

And when they come with tears of joy to be baptized ;
when in scores of instances the amazed missionary learns that
their lives of, it may be, sixty years, have been blameless from
the beginning to that hour, truly they prove themselves the
noblest conquest of our faith, the richest jewels in the crown
of converts that sheds illumination upon the fair features of
Catholicity, and throws a strong light into the outer darkness
for the guidance of many wayfaring feet.

It is the Church's mearw of sanctity and of union with God
that draw them. It is the Real Presence, above all else, that
wins them. O Priest of the Most High! your deepest sacerdo-
tal joy is still before you, if you have never yet told the
Eucharistic mystery to souls that know it not, but would
worship if they knew !

If our opportunities are so glorious, our responsibilities are
correspondingly grave. It were bad enough to withhold whatever
assistance we had it in our power to give to the non- Catholic
apostolate, but positively to hinder it, directly or indirectly, is
nothing else than terrible.

The observation is old, no doubt, and it may be suggestive
of a Sunday homily to repeat it, but it is solemn enough to
startle one's conscience, however often one reflects upon it, that
after all is said and done, the lives and deeds of Catholics, their
private behavior and their public utterances, are the greatest
help or the greatest obstacle to conversions. Where respect
cannot be won or benevolence conciliated, how shall there be
conversion? Through the humanities of our common life
together leads the convert's straighest road to the divinity of
the truth we hold. Principle, it goes without saying, must be
followed uncompromisingly, and, at need, fought for strenuously.
It would be a despicable creature indeed that, in order to gain
good-will, would silence his conscience and betray his trust.
A sorry spectacle anywhere would be such a one, and sorriest
of all as a worker for converts.

But outside the province of principle there is a large field

230 THE TENTH ANNIVERSARY OF [Nov.,

of word and deed wherein, accordingly as we are led by divine
prudence and supernatural love of souls, or by unwise peculiari-
ties and an unconciliattng temper, we may wield an influence —
some of us a wide and awful influence— either for converting
non-Catholics to the faith, or for driving them headlong away
from it. Our worship, public and private, should predominantly
show to any eyes that may chance to observe it, that the
chief glories and 'greatest mysteries of the faith we profess
are also the chief support of our Christian character; that the
Blessed Trinity, the Holy Spirit, the Person of Christ, the
Real Presence are not only propositions of our creed, but a
living power in our practical devotion.

The mental attitude of Catholics should display that manly
intellectual independence to which as God's freemen we have
an inalienable right; while at the same time equally conspicu-
ous should be our veneration for just authority and the Catho-
lic instinct of docility for whosoever speaks in the name of
God.

Otir love of country should be expressed as well as felt.
And it should be so strong a love as will always lead us to
speak of the Republic with patriotic veneration. If there
should be a national leader, a government policy, a public
tendency that we cannot conscientiously support, it would be
well to see to it that our remonstrances be expressed with
magnanimous fairness and in courteous speech. To be deeply,
heartily, ardently American ; to share sympathetically in the
nation's life, hope, ideals, and activity ; to discountenance every
tendency that would so constitute Catholics or any section of
them a class apart as to involve the perpetuation of a spirit
irreconcilable with what is best in the American spirit; to
grieve for national or sectional failings loyally and sorrowfully,
but to trust in the people's righteousness to cure them in time,
and never to fling them malignantly in the face of the country
as a foreign foe might do ; to be convinced that this Republic
as it now is, and with its present Constitution, is a providential
work of God, destined to be a great leader of mankind in en-
lightenment and liberty, and even, by the grace of God, a
leader too in devotion to the Church of Christ; so to think
and feel and act is our privilege as citizens of this nation, and
our duty as Catholics who would work for souls.

To hold aloof is the fatal thing. If movements for the

1903.]

NON- CA THOLIC AffSSIONS.

231

public good have no Catholic co-operation ; if projects for
social amelioration and political purification are without Catho-
lic encouragement ; if the great universities invite an expression
of Catholic thought within their halls, and there is no one to
respond; if these things should come to pass, it were as well
for us to put up our shutters and bolt our gates, for the age
will pass us by unheeding our existence, and the pathway to
Catholicity will be trodden by very few feet indeed, .We are
confident that these disastrous tendencies will not prevail
amongst us. But lest we should ever be inclined to tolerate
them, we would do well to keep in mind that they are the
chief cause of the present prostrate misery in the Church in
France. Abstention on the part of Catholics from the intellectual,
social, and patriotic movements of the age and country has
largely brought about the weak and spiritless condition of
French Catholicity which gives free field for persecution to
tyrants like Premier Combes. Cardinal Manning's warning is
to the point, in which he declares to us that one of the most
deadly dangers to the growth of the Church is a shrinking
B from, a lack of sympathy with, a languid interest in, and a
feeble love for our country and our age.

The great present need of non-Catholic work is a supply of
missionaries. Hundreds are needed; strong, single-minded
meiif consecrated to their cause, contemptuous of its difficulties
and disappointments, priests of poverty and prayer.

First come the travelling missionaries who are given up ex-
clusively to mission-preaching. We look to see their ranks,
which are thin in numbers yet, steadily increase. The religious
orders, we are sure, will sometime set apart certain of their
subjects for the work, thus not only materially helping the
movement, but giving it the prestige of their name and history.
The diocesan clergy have so far been the main body of mis-
sionaries, and they have done their work magnificently. It was
worth undertaking these missions, if no other result came from
them than the demonstration of what fine missionary talent
and glorious missionary spirit our diocesan priests possess. Of
the twenty priests present at the Winchester Convention twelve
were diocesan, and the record of their work was unsurpassable.
More bands will be formed, the new spirit will spread and
grow, until every diocese in the country, we trust, will have
its own men traversing and retraversing it, and giving to their

332 The Tenth anniversary of [Nov.,

labors that systematic persistence from which converts without
number must result.

Actively associated with the missionaries ex-professo will be
the entire body of diocesan priests. Every parish church can
be a busy centre of non- Catholic work, and every parish priest
can be a gainer of converts.

With the question box as a feature of public service, with
apt, able, and kindly sermons, or, still better, courses of ser-
mons on Catholic teaching, with Truth Societies for Catholics,
and prudent distribution of literature among non-Catholics, a
renovating and energetic spirit will be aroused in the faithful,
prejudice will yield to interest and -good- will in the minds of
the brethren separated from us, and sooner or later a steady
accession of the best kind of converts is certain to come to pass.

What a field it is, this our country, our own 4and, dearest
to our affections, first in our prayers ! Surely there is «ot one
among us, whether of the priesthood, regular or diocesan, or
of the laity, who desires not to have some share in cultivating
it, however humble.

If we cannot take a place among the burden-bearers who
are enduring the mission- drudgery for love of souls, we are able
at least to ask the divine regard upon our petitions and our
sacrifices, beseeching the Almighty to give them an intercessory
power for the increase of the harvest of converts. And for our
young men who are looking forward to becoming priests, let
them know that since the world began a diviner apostolate was
never offered to the ambassadors of Christ. On them this
young vocation must depend. To their sturdiness of spiritual
strength, to their cultivation of mind and heart, to their power
of enthusiasm and ardor of zeal, we trust for the furthering of
the work of conversion. That all of them will help in it is our
expectation ; that many of them will wholly consecrate them-
selves to it is our hope; that some one or more of them will
do mighty things for it, and repeat in this country the great
conquests of the Church's missionary history, is our devoutest
prayer.

What has been done in these first ten years of non- Catholic
missions has been told elsewhere* and need only be briefly
summarized here. Many thousands of converts have been made
as a direct result of the movement. Thousands more of neg-

• Catholic World, October, 1901 ; the hf'uslonary, October, 1901, October, 1903.

1903- J

NoN- Ca tholic Missions.

233

I
I

ligent Catholics who, strange to say, remained insensible to the
appeal of Catholic missions, have returned to a faithful life.
Prejudice of incalculable amount has been removed. Tons of
Catholic reading- matter have been distributed. In the North
and West eight bands of diocesan missionaries have been es-
tablished. In the South nine diocesan priests are wholly occu-
pied in working for converts. A Missionary Union has been
incorporated for the supervision of the work and the care of
its temporal necessities. A missionary training-school has just
been built in Washington which will send highly competent
missionaries into all parts of the country. Finally, and perhaps
greatest of all, the sense of a new and sublime vocation has
deepened in priests and laity, and has given hope, fervor, and
aggressiveness to the apostolate of Catholic truth.

These are results enough — who can doubt it? — to call forth
from every Catholic heart an expression of profound thanks-
giving. Considering the manifold and serious difficulties which
the new movement had to encounter, we deem these first-fruits
an extraordinary return for every expenditure of labor, time,
and money. The harvest of the next decade will be inestima-
bly greater. May the brave pioneers who were first to strike
the ploughshare into the soil live to see and enjoy it !

It would be unbecoming to conclude this review of ten
years without a mention of the revered and holy name
which must stand for ever at the head of this chapter in the
history of American Catholicity. It would be wrong not to
speak of Isaac Hecker. With the spirit of a saint, the courage
of an apostle, and the vision of a prophet, he announced this
apostolic vocation, suffered for it, and foretold its great suc-
cesses. He worked for it while he could work, prayed for it
when he could only pray, and must be now interceding for it.
May we who would carry on the work so dear to him learn
well this highest lesson of his life, that before we undertake to
lead souls to God, we should ourselves be holy; that hidden
beneath the external labors of preaching, exhorting, proving,
must be the divine vitality and the sacred inspiration that
come only from solitary hours of prayer; that the vocation to
missionary activity must be preceded by and must depend up-
on the vocation to interior perfection and to conformity with
the Saviour Christ !

234 A^ Episcopalian Demand [Nov.,

AN EPISCOPALIAN DEMAND FOR CHRISTIAN SCHOOLS.

BY REV. THOMAS MCMILLAN, C.S.P.

VERY considerable number of American citizens,
both native and foreign born, have felt it quite
consistent with their conception of the duty of
patriotism to urge a change in the educational
system by law established in the United States.
While Catholics have made the largest sacrifices in defence of
their convictions regarding the necessity of combining religion
with education, they have had a fair share of praise from lead-
ing thinkers in other denominations. Nothing could be stronger
as an endorsement of the parish school than these words from
the late Dr. Hodge, a Presbyterian divine and one of the
ablest professors at Princeton :

" Under these problems there lurks the most tremendous and
most imminent danger to which the interests of our people will
ever be exposed, in comparison with which the issues of slavery
and of intemperance shrink into insignificance.

" In view of the entire situation, shall we not all of us who
really believe in God, give thanks to him that he has preserved
the Roman Catholic Church in America to-day true to that
theory of education upon which our fathers founded the public
schools of this nation, and from which they haye been so
madly perverted ? "

Here is a denial of many false statements in educational
literature to the effect that Catholics are demanding something
inconsistent with the American ideal. Quite the contrary is the
case. Dr. Hodge with full knowledge affirms that the Roman
Catholic Church in America to-day has preserved that theory
of education upon which our fathers founded the schools of this
nation. Which is right, Dr. Hodge or the critics who accuse
Catholics of being unpatriotic in demanding the recognition of
the parental right to control the education of children ?

The remarkable decision, given some years ago by Dr.
Hodge has been recently quoted with full approval by Dr. W.
Montagu Geer, Episcopalian Vicar of St. Paul's Chapel, New

'903.

FOR Christian Schools.

235

I
I

Vork City. In this historic building, which is associated with
the memories of George Washington's installation as first Presi-
dent of the United States, Dr. Geer first voiced his convictions
on the school question (September, iQor), shortly after the
death of the late President McKtnley. Speaking to the
Sons of the American Revolution he used these significant
words:

This dreadful calamity looks very much like a visitation on
us of the wrath of the Most High. We must get back to the
guiding principles of our forefathers. There were two evils in
our great country: first the sin of slavery, — that we have ex-
piated and wiped out ; then the sin of intemperance, ^that we
can master and are mastering. ... Is there, then, any
evil still in the land so widespread as to call down the wrath
ol God upon us? There is. Our Godless system of education
is a far worse crime than slavery or intemperance. I believe
that the United States is suffering from the wrath of God to-
day because our people have consented to the banishment of
Jesus Christ from the daily lives of our children. If to-day
Christ were on earth and should enter almost any public
school-house in the country, the teacher, acting under instruc-
tion, would show Him the door. If, on the other hand^ He
were to enter any of our private (parish) schools. He would be
worshipped by teacher and scholars on bended knee. Here is
our fault, here is our sin. The question now is, To what ex-
tent can we remould and remodel our educational system ?
Almost any system is belter than the present one. It would
be infinitely better to divide up the money received from the
school tax among the various Christian denominations and the
Hebrews than to continue the present irreligious system.

After waiting two years for further study and reflection,
Dr. Geer has again contributed to the discussion a notable
letter published in the New York Sun, October i, 1903, which
is here given in part :

The writer has been surprised in conversation with intelli-
gent and thoughtful men to find a marked want of confidence
in the permanent success of our institutions. Like him, these
doubters seem to be " peering into the night, questioning of
the darkness what is sea and what is land." And the best
they dare hope for is that, after a cataclysm, there will follow

236

An Episcopalian Demand

[Nov.,

some sort of rehabilitation of our institutions on firmer founda-
tions ; that we will be saved, yet so as by fire.

Our perils are not old-country perils, but they are just as
real ; yet we seem to know nothing about them. We are build-
ing costly educational breakwaters against storms coming from
one direction only. Our national harbor of safety promises,
therefore, to be like that of Apia in the famous storm of a
few years ago — a harbor in stress of weather to be sailed out
from. . .

We have problems of appalling magnitude before us, and
our preparation is wholly insufficient in character. We need
powers of assimilation such as no other country ever needed ;
yet we are making ready for a solution of our difficulties with
a sort of spiritual dyspepsia. Nothing ever was so haphazard,
happy-go-lucky as our well-meant national system of education.
It is openly and^ I believe, justly charged that this city, for
fifty or sixty years past, through its schools, has been corrupt-
ing the immigrants, not the immigrants the city ; and the same
might be said with equal truth of the country at large. What
crass mismanagement ! What fatal blundering !

We pride ourselves on our successful separation of Church
and State; but the attempt is the worst kind of failure. No
such separation is possible as long as the state has almost a
monopoly in educating the children. The truth is, we have an
established religion, for the support of which the people are
heavily ta.xed. Our richly endowed established religion (so to
call it) is that of agnosticism, running down into atheism. Is
not the same true of religion in those families In which the father
and mother never speak on the subject to the children? And
if things arc wrong in the nursery, what need is there to look
elsewhere ?

Protestants, lioman Catholics, and Hebrews have struck a
compromise by which God and Christ — yes, and with them
pagan ethics at their best^ — ^are eliminated from the education
of the child-life of the nation, What is the result ? Why,
surely, the virtual enthronement of forces that disbelieve in
God and Christ and are antagonistic to them. How can those
who know what Christianity is and what the nature and needs
of children are believe otherwise ? There can be no education
in these days without religion, or its negation or opposite.
What an atmosphere to bring up our children in ! Small won-

»903.]

FOR Christian Schools.

217

der that atheists and agnostics love to have it so ; because in
a most pitiful sense of the word the lamb is inside the lion.

Rome allowed each conquered nation to retain its own re-
ligion, and even placed their gods in her Pantheon; and all
were contented, or at least gratefully accepted the wisely offered
consolation. But we are dishonoring every form of religion I
known to our people by our colossal and well-meant but wholly I
stupid meddling with the nursery of the nation. And the in-
evitable result, which is becoming more and more evident, is
that no one is satisfied. Witness the want of confidence so
abundantly attested in the many letters which have recently ap-
peared in your columns and, from time to time, in other news-
papers and periodicals. The schools are overcrowded and very
popular, of course ; but these facts are of little weight for the
purposes of this and similar protests.

We are over educating our people, unfitting them for what
they can do, and not offering them the opportunities for which
we are fitting them. What deplorable folly ! Small wonder,
again, that (arms are being deserted, farm laborers becoming
harder and harder to get, cities and larger towns becoming more
and more overcrowded, and the strife and distrust between
capital and labor becoming apparently hopeless and endless —
all to the great peril of the body politic !

What, then, is the right, the duty, and the policy of the
state in this vitally important matter? The situation calls loudly
for an answer, which is easily given, hard, indeed, though it be
to put it into practice. The state, for its own protection, is to
see that the children are educated, and only to take action
where it is necessary to do so, by providing the simplest, most
elementary kind of an education for those children who would
otherwise be neglected. If private enterprise carries education
further than this, it will be on so small a scale, comparatively,
that no serious harm is likely to be done.

In this way an open field and no favor would be given to
every religious body to provide proper education for its own
children or take the consequences of its neglect of duty. Pri-
vate schools, large and small, differing widely in dogmatic
teaching, but identical in ethics and patriotism, would again
spring up and multiply all over the land, and education would
again be on a proper and safe basis. The children, or most
of them, would be Christianized as well as Americanized.

AN EPISCOPALIAN Demand

[Nov.,

Mljmn tntffht be instructed in pagan ethics; Jews would be
^^MtrocCed in Jewish ethics; Protestants and Roman Catholics
\tk Christian ethics. Every religious body would provide for
the education of its own children ; and the exceptions to this
tilutary rule would see their children state educated and made
thereby the easy prey of some stronger form of religion, or
the victim of agnosticism, indifferentism, or atheism and con-
sequent immorality.

This means division in part, at least, of the school moneys,
And troublesome enough it is likely to prove; but it is Sailors*
Siof Hirbor in comparison with the stormy seas which we
4ftt mow steering the ship of state for.

The introduction of religion into state schools in any form
<yw:Qinensuraic with the needs of the children is out of the
^•ifittion. Herein lies the hopelessness of the present situa-
tviMi ; *nd the sooner this point is understood and conceded
t>v *ll parties interested the sooner this most important of all
Mibj^'^^ before Church and State to day can be argued to a
l(tt^»h No Protestant, Roman Catholic, Jew, agnostic, or
Athvut is willing to be taxed to help some one else choose
tKr religion which shall be taught his child. According to
our theory of government, and we might say in the sight of
C»od and men, this would not be fair; and therefore it cannot,
«nd will not, be done.

Here is the opportunity for Protestants of all kinds to cry
«loud : " This would be playing into the hands of the Roman
Catholics. It is what they have been demanding and working
>r, for many years past." Granted, but it would not be play-
ing into their hands nearly as much as we are now doing by
Allowing them a substantial monopoly of the whole field of
Christian education, and of all the blessings which are sure to
flow from the noble self-sacrifice they are making, rather than
WAntonly expose their children to the inroads of unbelief. If
the writer is not greatly mistaken, unless our affairs take a
turn for the better in the sight of Him whose parting com-
mission to His Church was "Feed my lambs!" (evidently the
proper place for the lamb is not inside the Hon, after all), for
the rehabilitation of our institutions, we will be flying, as
frightened doves to the windows, to the Roman Catholic
Church as the greatest power which, in troublous days, will
stand for law and order and for the highest morality. . . .

>903.]

FOR Christian Schools.

239

In common, doubtless, with many others who want the
children of this country 10 receive good American fair play,
be the creed of their parents what it may, I should be glad
to see at least the attempt made to argue this question to a
finish by the highest authorities on the various different sides.

Dr. Gecr's allusion to the frightened doves in troublous
days had a singular application to an event which occurred
the, very day his letter appeared. It was reported that over
three thousand persons paid an admission fee to attend the
largest Anarchist meeting ever held, and that over a thousand
more could not get into the hall, Emma Goldman sat on the
platform throughout the evening, but did not speak, as the
Cooper Union manager had allowed the use of the hall only
upon this condition. The chief object of the meeting was to
denounce all forms of religious belief, including Yom Kipper
the Jewish atonement day, and the leading spirit was the edi-
tor of a Hebrew anarchist paper published in New York City,
Many of the socialist orators at numerou,s outdoor meetings
can be heard in this same fair city ridiculing the doctrine of the
future life, and leading the people astray. These threatening
dangers seem to be unknown to the editorial writer in the
Sun — October I — who acknowledged that Dr. Geer in his let-
ter put ** himself flatly on the ground held by the Roman
Catholic Church as affording the only hope for the future of
our republic and of our social organization — the ground that
the only true and safe basis for education, either for the state
or for the individual, is religion. He takes, too, the position
of the hierarchy of that church, that the school fund, or a
great part of it, should be divided so as to provide support
for religious schools conducted in accordance with the varying
tenets and convictions of the religious believers who make up
something like a quarter of the population, if the attempts at
their enumeration are to be credited as authentic. For the
remainder, described by Dr. Geer as agnostics, indifferentists,
and atheists, he would provide the purely secular education
they desire."

. . . " So long as children go to school the state exer-
cises no compulsion as to the character of the schools they
shall attend. Many thousands of them in New York are pupils
of the Roman Catholic (parish) schools, of, schools provided by

VOL. LXXVIII. — 16

240 AN Episcopalian Demand [Nov.,

the Jews, or are in private schools. The state offers no inter-
ference with religious education of any kind whatever and no
discouragement to it.

"Dr. Gser argues that our society, even our whole political
system, is going to the devil, is becoming paganized, because
our children are growing up without a religious education.
Ojght not the churches and synagogues, then, to make it their
first duty to supply this omission ? They must provide it, the
constitution directs, without support from the state ; and is ^he
burden of cost too heavy ? How can it be too heavy if the
obligation is to God? The churches are compelled to support
their worship by free-will contributions only, except so far as
concerns the help they get from the state in their statutory
exemption from taxation as institutions exclusively for ' the
moral or mental improvement of men or women,' or for reli-
gious, charitable, and educational purposes; yet, enormous as
is the aggregate cost of their maintenance, they flourish here
more than in countries where state and church are united.

" The practical question, after all, so far as concerns reli-
gious education in the public schools, is as to the possibility
of getting rid of this prohibition of the constitution of New
York, in principle similar to that of the States generally, and
the expediency of raising an agitation for its excision :

" ' Article IX , section 4. Neither the State nor any sub-
division thereof shall use its property or credit or any public
money, or authorize or permit eithei to be used, directly or
indirectly, in aid or maintenance, other than for examination
and inspection, of any school or institution of learning wholly
or in part under the control or .direction of any religious de-
nonination, or in which any denomination, or in which any
denominational tenet or doctrine is taught' "

On another occasion the editorial in the Sun — October 7 —
contained these words :

"It is not for the interest of the Roman Catholic Church
or for the interest of religion generally that any such conflict
should be precipitated. It would cause no end of bad blood.
Correspondence we have printed indicates that any attempt to
divert the school fund to denominational schools of any kind
would bs bitterly resented by Protestants, by Jews, and by
that great majority of the people made up of infidels and those
indifferent to religion or distrustful of the organized churches.

1903]

FOR Christian Schools.

241

'• It would be a lamentable conflict, and our advice to the
Roman Catholic Church is to keep out of it. The attempt, we
are coniiclent, would be unsuccessful, and the making of it could
only serve to revive the now happily dispelled animosity
against that church and distrust of its motives which inflamed
passions so violently fifty years ago."

However lamentable, the confiict is already forced upon all
the defenders of Christian teaching by the non-religious anarch-
ists, socialists, and nondescript free-thinkers. Numerous proofs
can be adduced to show that the animosity of fifty years ago has
gone never to come again, notably the letter from Dr, Geer, which
no doubt represents many of the most enlightened members of
the Episcopal Church in the United States, Other denomina-
tions are on record with declarations of the same character.

The late Cardinal Manning and his successor, Cardinal
Vaughan, were often found side by side with their Anglican
brethren defending the system by law established in England,
which allows public money to be given for results of examina-
tions in the secular branches of study, and which invites the
co-operation of church-workers in the cause of public educa-
tion. With us in the United States the parish school is barely
tolerated, though it represents the constitutional rights of
citizens who year after year have spent their own money,
amounting to millions of dollars, here in New York City. No
public official has ever proposed even a vote of thanks to these
citizens, who should be classified at least as philanthropists in
education. No educational report yet published in the city or
State of New York has contained a distinct mention of the
parish schools. The Regents are permitted to give honorable
distinction to Catholic academies that win credit in public ex-
aminations. But the parish school stands for the most impor-
tant part of educational work, namely, the elementary studies
for the children of the masses whose homes are often in the
crowded tenement districts

The so-called "prohibition of the Constitution of New
York" (Article IX., section 4) has these words: "Other than
for examination and inspection," and it is important to state
that there is considerable scope for a legal argument on the
exact meaning of this expression, which must be taken tn con-
junction with the discussion that led to its acceptance. The
words were not found in the amendment as first proposed by

242 AN Episcopalian Demand [Nov.,

the defunct League for the Protection of American Institutions,
which fostered several notorious bigots. What was chiefly in
the mind of the constitutional convention had for its objective
point the prohibition of the use of public money for any form
of religious or denominational teaching, and some of the dele-
gates were surprised to find after they had voted on the mat-
ter that the choice of language was at least ambiguous, and
might be twisted to mean something opposed to their convic-
tions. It would seem that examination and inspection are
clearly authorized by the constitution, even for schools " wholly
or in part under the control or direction of any religious de-
nomination." This examination must necessarily be limited to
the secular studies required for intelligent citizenship.

When the select committee, appointed at the close of the
last Legislature, containing five senators and seven members of
Assembly, is [prepared to listen to suggestions for improving
the educational Idws of New York State, there will be an ex-
cellent opportunity to take up the question here suggested
concerning the correct interpretation of Article IX., section 4,
of the constitution. Mr. Geer and his powerful friends in the
Episcopal Church may discover that there is still a way to
enlarge the public system of education without discouragement
to the advocates of religious training. By removing legal bar-
riers certain antagonisms may be obliterated which are now
kept alive by unjust discriminations.

A long time ago, in the year 1841, when the Hon. John
C. Spencer was Secretary of State and also ex- officio Superin-
tendent of Public Schools, the Catholic citizens of New York
City sent a memorial to the Legislature. With the approval
of the illustrious Archbishop Hughes, it was stated that
the managers of Catholic schools would "afford every facility
of visitation and inspection to the duly appointed agents of the
State, to guard against abuses and render their schools in every
respect free from objection ; but no arrangement was effected."

Dr. Richard H. Clarke in his work on Catholic Bishops, vol.
ii., page 109, is authority for the statement that the distinguished
Secretary of State for Abraham Lincoln — then in Albany as gov-
ernor of New York State — was almost as much abused for his
advocacy of Catholic rights as Bishop Hughes himself, and nar-
rowly escaped defeat in the election of 1841 on this account.
Having promised the bishop not to lose sight of the school ques-

1903]

FOR Christian Schools.

243

tion in the approaching Legislature, Governor Seward, in his
message of January 4, 1842, again presented the subject of the
schools and school fund to the consideration of the Legislature, in
the following paragraphs, which are well worthy of perpetuation:

"It was among my earliest duties to bring to the notice of
the Legislature the neglected condition of many thousand chil-
dren, including a very large proportion of those of immigrant
parentage, in our great commercial city ; a misfortune then sup-
posed to result from groundless prejudices and omissions of
parental duty. Especially desirous at the same time not to dis-
turb in any manner the public schools, which seem to be effi-
ciently conducted, although so many for whom they were es-
tablished were unwilling to receive their instructions, I suggested,
as [ thought, in a spirit not inharmonious with our civil and
religious institutions, that if necessary it might be expedient to
bring those st> excluded from such privileges into schools ren-
dered especially attractive by the sympathies of those to whom
the task of instruction should be confided. It has since been
discovered that the magnitude of the evil was not fully known,
and that its causes were very imperfectly understood. It will
be shown in the proper report that twenty thousand children
in the city of New York, of suitable age, are not at all in-
structed in any of the public schools, while the whole number
of the residue of the State, not taught in common schools, does
not exceed nine thousand. What has been regarded as indi-
vidual, occasional, and accidental prejudices, have proved to be
opinions pervading a large mass, including at least one religious
communion equally with all others entitled to civil tolerance —
opinions cherished through a period of sixteen years, and ripened
into a perminent conscientious distrust of the impartiality of the
education given in the public schools. This distrust has been
rendered still deeper and more alienating by a subversion of
precious civil rights of those whose consciences are thus ofTended.

" Happily, in this, as in other instances, the evil is discov-
ered to have had its origin no deeper than in a departure from
the equality of general laws. . ."

" This proposition to gather the young from the streets and
wharves into the nurseries which the State, solicitous for her
security against ignorance, has prepared for them, has some-
times been treated as a device to appropriate the school funds
to the endowment of seminaries for teaching languages and

244

Christian Schools.

[Nov.

I
I

faiths, and thus to perpetuate the prejudices it seeks to re-
move; sometimes, as a scheme for dividing that precious fund
among a thousand jarring sects, and thus increasing the re-
ligious animosities it strives to heal; sometimes as a plan to
subvert the prevailing religion and introduce one repugnant to
the conscience of our fellow-citizens; while in truth it simply ■
proposes, by enlightening equally the minds of all, to enable
them to detect error wherever it may exist, and to reduce un-
congenial masses into one intelligent, virtuous, harmonious, and
happy people.

" Being now relieved from all such misconceptions it pre-
sents the questions whether it is wise and more humane to
educate the offspring of the poor than to leave them to grow
up in ignorance and vice ; whether juvenile vice is more easily
eradicated by the Court of Sessions than by common schools;
whether parents have a right to be heard concerning the in-
struction and instructors of their children, and taxpayers in
relation to the expenditure of public funds; whether, in a re-
pithlican government, it is necessary to interpose an indepen-
dent corporation between the people and the schoolmaster ; and
whether it is wise and just to disfranchise an entire community
(if all cuntrol over public education, rather than suffer a part
to be represented in proportion to its numbers and contribu-
tions. Since such considerations are now involved, what has
hitherto been discussed as a question of benevolence and of
untvrmal education, has become one of equal civil rights, religious
tolrrance, and liberty of conscience. We could bear with us,
in our retirement from public service, no recollection more
^l^orlhy of l>eing cherished through life than that of having
^m«l nucli a nuestion in the generous and confiding spirit of
out inHtitutions, and decided it upon the immutable principles
on whii^li they are based."*

May we hope that the New York Legislature of 1904 will
<ip(ir<*«ch thi» (lueslion with a larger wisdom, and a more ef-
(ortlvc purpoic to do justice to all classes of citizens? Thou-
hiiiuIn of reputable taxpayers have not written any freak letters
III the newspapers, but they hope that their claims may yet be
frtlrly considered by impartial judges. After long waiting and
HUich undeserved abuse, in the words of Dr. Geer, let us have
•• Kinal American fair play,"

/ Aiiciiibly Documents, 184a, i, 9, 10, It, la, 13.

I
I

1. — Any one who desires sane, honest, interesting, and, at
the same time, a not too quasi- scientific description of the
supernatural occurr^ices which have taken place at the famous
shrines of the Blessed Virgin in France, ought to read this
book of Bernard St. John's.* Our thanks and congratulations
are due to the author, first, for the negative virtue of not
being too apologetic, and, secondly, for the positive virtue of
combining a genuine religious tone with a sufficient concern
for the difficulties of honest sceptics. And to the same possi-
ble "honest sceptics" we say confidently, pick up this book
and read it, and .tell us what explanation you have, short of
an admission of the intervention of the supernatural, for the
events that have been witnessed at La Salette, at Notre
Dame des Victoires, at Lourdes, at Pontmain f^c^voisin.
Here are miracles witnessed as plainly and recorded as im-
passionately as the news items of the daily papers. Especially
to those who are either annoyed or disgusted with the unsatis-
factory evidences of the "cures" of Christian Science and of
the present-day pseudo- spiritualism, we recommend a reading
of this unassuming and sober voluipe. . And if there be some
o&e who has labored through the cumbrous volumes of Mr.
Myers only to be disappointed in the end at the lack of a
definite theory for explaining the strange things he narrates,
and puzzled with the absence of any " why or wherefore " of
his vast accumulation of preternatural stories, let such a one
refresh himself with the reading of a book like this, one with
a definite theory, understood rather than enforced, and with a
unifying thread of moral and religious purpose in its narrations.

The devout Catholic, who would be ashamed to doubt that
the Blessed Virgin has sensibly intervened for the maintenance
of faith and the increase of piety in the modern world, will
find, likewise, in this book a justification for his belief, with-
out being nauseated by a medical and psychological, and patho-
logical, and heaven knows what other sort of treatise, such
as has been too frequently issued of late in defence of the

* Tk* BUsttd VtrgtH «w the NintUtntk Century . Apparitions, Revelations, Graces. By
Bernard St John. London : Bums & Oates ; New York : Benziger Brothers.

246

Views and Reviews.

[Nov.,

plainly manifested miracles at the shrines of Our Lady in
France.

We have not missed the author's incidental reference to
Father Hecker, on p. 277, nor are we of The Catholic
World unthankful for this rather out-of-the-way, but very
graceful, tribute to him.

2. — There is more romance in this unassuming little book •
than in many historical (?) novels gotten up with the express
purpose of being as " romantic " as they can. A French girl
in the year [787 became a novice in the Order of St. Vincent
de Paul, and immediately seems to be the centre of an ac-
cumulation of troubles. Sickness and temptation are the bare
preliminaries of her life of trouble. Suddenly, without further
introduction, she is thrown into the midst of the dreadful tur-
moil of the French Revolution. She is banished from Paris,
roughly handled by brutal soldiers; returns to Paris in the
very " Reign of Terror," is again obliged to flee for life and
liberty ; travels eighty leagues on foot alone, begging her way
among a people frantic with hatred of the religion whose habit
she wears ; settles down in the house of her brother, a liber-
tine and a violent revolutionist, in the vain hope of bringing
him to his senses ; flees again, opens school, and teaches until
prevented by a deilegation of "citoyens"; taken again with
the desire for religion, makes her way to Switzerland dresssd
in beggar's clothes ; returns again to France to found a house
of religion, is threatened with death, pursued by soldiers armed
with naked swords ; flees again and lives in hiding for a year ;
but is not daunted from returning to Besan^on, where she starts
her institute. Such is chapter one of this eventful life.

The second is a chapter of further travels, but of a differ-
ent sort. She bears misunderstandings and reproaches because
of her remaining faithful, under obedience, to her new com-
munity instead of returning to that of St. Vincent de Paul;
she suffers renewed persecutions from the civil authorities, is
made the object of the contumely of many of the clergy and
laity, is accused of deceit and dishonesty, is half vindicated
and enjoys a momentary respite. She goes into Italy, strangely

• The I'cnerabU Mother Jeanne Antide Thourtt, Foundress of the Sisters of Charity
(of Besan^on and Naples). Adapted from the Italian by Blanche Andcrdon (Whyte Avis),
h a preface l»y a Katlier uf ihc Roman Province, S.J.

ViEivs AND Reviews.

247

enough at the invitation of the infamous Murat, withstands
him to the face when he endeavors treacherously to impose a
secular obedience upon her ; is triumphant,, and plans for the
spread of her work and the union of the houses of Besan^on
and Naples. But she is outlawed from the former city, the
aadle of her institute, by the command of the ordinary ; is
refused even a night's shelter in the houses of her own found-
ing, but with unwavering courage perseveres in the work of
her vocation, lays the foundations and supervises the beginnings
of an order that now numbers but little less than 6co houses ;
and the heroine of all these vicissitudes dies in the odor of
sanctity, is pronounced venerable, and is on the way to beati>
fication, and probably to the reception of the high honors of
canonization as a saint of God and of his church.

This the outline of the story of Jeanne Antide Thouret,
told hurriedly, succinctly, hut with moving interest, in a jmall
duodecimo of 140 pages. We scarcely need invite our readers
to enjoy such a volume as this.

8. — Father Schwickerath has accomplished a very delicate
task in a highly creditable manner. As he is a Jesuit himself,
naturally his deepest feelings were enlisted in his great thtme*
of his order's educational principles and history. His histori-
cal imagination certainly must have been captivated by the
three centuries of illustrious intellectual achievement which
stands to the credit of men who wore his habit ; and all that
ardent love which members of a religious family cherish for
their Institute must have glorified the incidents of that his-
tory and tempted his pen to panegyric. Yet Father Schwick-
erath lays himself open hardly at all to the suspicion that
these emotional impulses have distorted his critical vision. His
style is remarkably, admirably temperate, sober, and cautious.
He tells, as he has a right to tell, of what his Society has
done in mental endeavor, gives long lists of Jesuit savants,
and is copious in his citations of Catholic and non-Catholic
testimony as to the efficacy of Jesuit scholarship and pedagogy.
But all this is as calmly done as any historical critic could
wish. It produces no impression of special pleading, but rather
moves our admiration for its dignity and sincerity. Father
Schwickerath has a critical mind of high order, and knows by

* Jtiuit Edumtien. By Robrrl Schwickerath, S.J. St. Loufi : B. Herder.

248

Views and reviews.

[Nov.,

a native good sense those limits of praise, " Quos ultra citraque
nequit consistere rectum."

The first part of the volume is historical, and deals with
education before the founding of the Jesuits, the Ratio Stu-
diornm of 1599, the revised Ratio of 1832, and the achievements
of the Jesuit system during the nineteenth century, The second
division of the book is technical, and discusses the nature, scope,
and practical working of the Ratio Studiorum, concluding with
chapters on religious instruction, school management, and the
teacher's motives and ideals. There is also a chapter which
considers Some of the objections brought by both Catholics and
non- Catholics against Jesuit teaching.

The historical section will naturally appeal to the great body
of readers who take no especial interest in pedagogy, and we
give assurance that this part of the work is finely done. Scat-
tered through it are bits of unusual information of great value
for the Catholic apologist or controversialist. For example, this
citation from so eminent an authority as Hastings Rashdall :
" The probability is that England was far better provided with
grammar schools before the Reformaticn than it has ever been
since " ; or the interesting piece of statistics that in the year
1400 Germany possessed 40,000 elementary schools; or that
the dissolution of the monasteries under Henry VUI. struck so
heavily at English education that the yearly degrees of Oxford
fell off during the period 15 35- 1548 from a normal average of
127 to about 50. Besides this there are testimonies to the
benefits of Jesuit training, to the probity of the Society, and
to the injustice of those who persecuted it, which may on oc-
casion serve admirably for refutation. Without a further enu-
meration of the good features of this book we promise all who
read it the rare enjoyment that only fine and scholarly work
can give. If we were to make a suggestion that points to
anything like a shortcoming in the volume, it would be that
a good purpose would have been served if Father Schwickerath
had considered at a little greater length the objection that Jesuit
education does not foster intellectual breadth and honesty. We
mention this, thinking that precisely this difficulty it is which
is generally implied in the strictures passed, sometimes even by
Catholics, upon the Society's methods. Montalembert, unless
our memory is at fault, gave utterance to this criticism, and
certainty he was both a loyal Catholic and a benefactor of the

1903-

Views and Reviews.

249

Jesuits. And in our day no charge is oftener made than that
the philosophical training of Jesuit teachers and pupils is nar-
row, and that it produces an unfair disdain of modern scholar-
ship and critical research. Father Schwickerath is so well able
to deal with this objection that we regret that he did not give
it more attention. We are sure that his refutation of it would
be complete and overwhelming. In every other respect we com-
mend his book without reserve, and wish for it readers by the
thousand.

4. — Father Dowling's history • of Creighton University
does credit to himself, to his college, and to his illustrious
order. It is a well-told narrative of how the munificence of
the noble Catholic family of the Creightons, and the self-
sacrificing zeal of the Jesuit Fathers, have built up a free
college in Omaha, have carried it on through many days of
darkness and discouragement, and at the expiration of only
twenty-five years have placed it in a post of honor among the
institutions of learning in America. From the beginning,
Creighton University has stood for great trust in God and un-
selfish devotion to man. Long may it prosper !

What pleases us most in Father Dowling's volume is a
certain hearty sympathy with American ideals and with all
wholesome progress. Thus he writes of Bishop O'Connor:
"His was a truly democratic administration. It was eminently
suited to this country, and especially to the West. He never
considered it essential for the assertion and maintenance of his
authority to harass and load down his clergy and people with
a multiplicity of rules which were unnecessary and even in
direct opposition to the spirit and customs of the people. He
recognized the fact that we are living in a land far different in
genius and habits from the countries of Europe. It was often
his lament that many of our clergy, high and low, might reside
io this country a life-time, and in the end know no more about
its trend of thought, its prejudices and customs, than at the
hour when they entered it." Again, for inserting chapter the
thirty-fifth, which consists of letters from Creighton graduates
who, after attending other institutions, write their opinion of
their Alma Mater's curriculum. Father Bowling deserves our

*Cnifklon Univenity Remimiscinits, tSjS-rgoj. By Rev. M. P. Dowling, S.J. Omaha:
Barkley Printing Company.

250 Views and Reviews. [Nov.,

admiration for his courageous frankness, and our gratitude for
some of the most honest and valuable suggestions as to Catholic
education that it has ever been our fortune to read. The
graduates to a man testify to the incalculable good of their
course at Creighton. Its Latin training, its religious instruction,
and its year of philosophy are specifically mentioned as
eminently helpful. But nearly all respectfully call attention to
the greater proficiency in history and English displayed by the
students of non-Catholic colleges over the alumni of Catholic
schools. Probably all who have had anything to do with
teaching agree in some respects with these . frank Creighton
men. In the accomplishments of exterior address, in the use
of clear and elegant English, in the familiarity with literature
and history, our boys can hardly compete with the students
of the great undenominational universities. This is far from
being the exclusive fault of our schools. One's family, place
in society, and early training are really the decisive factors in
the situation. But it would be well if our colleges would go
a little out of the traditional track to meet this urgent need,
and try harder to graduate, not only harmoniously and
adequately disciplined men, but presentable and exteriorly
cultivated men as well. ■

To return from our digression, we again express our thanks
to Father Dowling for his fine work, which is really a notable
contribution to the history of the church in this country ; we
congratulate Creighton on having grown so speedily and sturdily
in its short span of life; and we wish it years without end of
good repute among men and of benediction from on high.

5.1 — In the papers which P^re Laberthonniere has collected,
under the name of Essays in Religious Philosophy,* we have
a book of very remarkable interest to all who concern them-
selves with philosophy; and further, a book which should be
submitted to careful examination and profound meditation by
all to whom religion is a matter of serious thought. The few
essays here gathered together are the ripe fruit of years of
study and discussion and they bring to the student of religious

*Essau d* PkiUiophit RtUguute. Par le R. P. Laberthonniire de I'Oratoire. (La
Philosopbie est un art ; Le Dogmattsme moral ; Eclaircissements sur le dogmatisme moral ;
Le Probl&mc rcligietix ; L' Apolog^tique et la mtftbode de Pascal ; Tbforie de I'tfducation ;
Rapport de I'autorit^ et de la liberty ; Un Mystiqup au XlXe. siicle (Mgr. Gay). Paris :
P. Lethielleux.

1903]

Views and Reviews.

251

I
I

problems a wealth of suggestion vainly sought for in far more
pretentious volumes.

P^rc Laberthonniere — we trust our readers know his valuable
essay, " Theorie de Tfiducation " (in English, The Ideal
Teacher; Cathedral Library Association) — has been promi-
nently before the world for a considerable time past as one of
the foremost thinkers and writers in a movement daily grow-
ing in significance. They call this movement by all sorts of
names — ** method of immanence"; " new apologetic " ; "Catho-
lic Kantism," — as well as by other titles less obscure and
more vituperative. Like most other movements it suffers now
in its beginning from the hasty and indiscriminating comments
of over-zealous friends and foes. Yet it appears to be winning
new adherents and wider recognition as initial misunderstand-
ings are gradually being cleared away. To our author, more
perhaps than to any other, is due the merit of focussing atten-
tion upon the central and essential points of the position that
the progressive people need to defend.

The questions at issue concern both the study of Catholi-
cism as a personal religion, and the method to be adopted in
propagating Catholic truth. The controversy began with a
thesis which M. Blondel defended at the Sorbonne in 1893,
and which concerned the role of reason in Christian faith.
Around that thesis has circled a decade of literary praise and
blaoie. Some harsh things have been written and some clever
retorts made. Suffice it here to note that among M. Blondel's
more or less efficient and more or less pronounced allies have
been numbered M Fonsegrive, of La Quinzainc ; M. I'Abbi^
Mano, and M. I'Abbe Denis, of the Annates de phihsophie
Chretienne ; while among his critics, more or less direct and
more or less violent, have been R. P. Schwalm, the Domini-
can; M. I'Abbe Gayraud, deputy of the French Chamber; R.
P. Bachelet, S J., and R. P. Fontaine, S.J., of Protestant Infil-
tration fame. Without going into the merits of the general
controversy, or of the side-issues that have asserted themselves
repeatedly, it may be considered safe to say that the reader
who welcomes vigorous, independent thinking, and personal
initiative in action, and a religion that is live, broad, deep,
uncompromisingly human, and unmistakably divine, will peruse
these essays with no little joy and profit.

What will he learn in them ? These among other things :

*5«

V/£iVS AND REVIEIVS,

[Nov..

Tait Catholicism denies no right of reason, but accepts and
enlarges upon all that reason has attained. That there is no
conflict between reason and faith, but only between the license
boni of egoism and the despotism sprung of superstition. That
Catholicism is not a bundle of formulas, but a life to be lived ;
and that not miracles, prophecies, and definitions make reli-
gion, but rather God dwelling in the sou). That it is good
for people to think and study religious truth in order that
(heir lives may conform with more and more fidelity to the
Hvine exemplar. That we shall defend Catholicism most
offactively and spread it most successfully if we bring men to
look upon it not as a mere established fact of history, but
Ntth«r as the one ooXy adequate fulfilment of the want that ■
OMh huBMB being feels within his soul.

TheM and other things will the reader find exposed in a
t«Uiitf (ashion, and with us he will thank and congratulate the
4l«lthor ol these essays, watting meanwhile most impatiently

•«-~* I

% — We have not the slightest hard feeling toward Mr. ^
Lomn Dv Osbom, and in perusing his book * we felt no
|«mptaUcu» to animosity ; but we must set it down as our
iitUbttrate conWction that he stands in need of a long course
O^ training in clear and logical thinking, and in the old-

'f^thioned ethics of controversy which reckon it to a man's dis- H
Cftilit i( he censures what he has not mastered, and holds up to

,riviicule wh»t he has never studied at first hand. In the course
hl» book Mr. Osborn maintains these propositions: i. Early
^hrittianity was ruined, and the Gospel obscured, by being
|IAU«terr«d ix<^vn^ a living personal faith to a formulated creed.
4 Y»t (onwulaicd creeds are necessary. 3. Theology has

'lU>«(Mir«i1 Chri&t. 4. Yet Christ cannot be preached without

thuoloiiy. 5. Orljpen, Augustine, and the Catholic Church

1\' h«vc ijlven us set creeds, and are therefore the

^; i.««o( (.toapel-Christianily. 6. Yet it is permitted to Mr.

Imiau I^ Oihorn to devote a very large part of his book to
|h«t iu*»«iU»llon of a *• re-stated Gospel-Christianity" in terms
«it «i(>«id Htui dogma. 7- The Gospel is permanent and cannot
vU»»t»y«' ^ Vol theology, which is the Gospel expressed, must
u«ii(«9lUAlly vhanjie. <). " One searches the Scriptures in vain

« 'I t/IAtG^tftl, By Loran David Osborn. Ph.D. Chicago:

1903]

Views and Reviews.

253

for such chuich dogmas as those of the Trinity, the Person
of Christ and the atonement" (page 172). 10. '* Jesus is the
mediator of eternal life" (p. 197); "Christ is the full revela-
tion of Gad's ethical life and the divine Saviour of men" (page
204); "In a real sense Jesus Christ was the incarnation of
God. This is the truth contended for in the old Christological
creeds, and is the priceless heritage bequeathed by them to
us. When the new Christological formulations are made, they
must not be permitted to rob us of it " (page 204).

These contentions, when thrown together, represent about as
much loose thinking and inconsequent argument as we can
imagine one book to contain. Mr. Osborn should have given
us an analytical study of the proper province of dogma, critical
reasons why one set of dogmas are insufficient or false and
another set tenable and true, a statement of New Testament
doctrines, and a philosophical discussion of the divine and the
human, the changeable and the fixed elements in the Christian
religion. All this was demanded by the nature of the task he
placed before himself, the task, namely, of re-stating a lost and
corrupted Gospel-Christianity.

Yet of all this work there is scarcely a respectable trace.
Mr. Osborn impresses us as a man who has caught at Harnack's
conclusions as to the real nature of uncontaminated Christianity,
and in a most uncritical fashion has followed and applied them.
Doctrinal statements de-personalize religion by turning the
mind to a philosophical scheme and away from vital faith, and
by making the first object of belief a written formula instead
of the realities of the world unseen. So says Mr. Osborn, fol-
lowing we know not how many of modern doctors, who strangely
seem to think it a compensation for the less clear and definite
doctrine, if they also pitch overboard every clear and definite
idea about anything religious. Throughout this entire book it
is thrust upon the reader that the moment a man's mind
wishes to see his belief as an object of intellectual assent, his
heart must cease to feel it as the object of living faith.
Nothing can be m-^re false and mischievous. Mr. Osborn's
native good sense tells him that it is false and mischievous, for
he tries after alt to plead for theology and dogma himself.
Lack of clearness, lack of method, lack of critical training,
stand out big and ugly from nearly every page of this book,
we are sorry to be obliged to say.

254

VIEWS AND REVIEWS.

[No%-..

And as to criticisms and censures passed by our author on
matters which he has not even attempted to inform himself
upon, wc need only mention his declarations that at the begin-
ning of the sixteenth century the Bible was almost an unknown
book; that the fourth Lateran Council in 1215 introduced the
dogmas of Baptism, the Hoty Eucharist and Penance; and the
preposterous statement that the church considers the laity to
^posacHS only natural morality, while those who take the three
vowi have supernatural morality. No one who loves exact
Rcholarship can think highly of a book like this, however one
ratpects the good intentions of its author. We trust that when
Mr. Oiborn writes his next volume it will be after some years
of deep and patient study, and that he will refuse to put it
Into print so long as there is a vague idea in it, or a feeble
arijuincnt, or a misrepresentation of the other side of the
ijiieition.

7i— Not many will remai;ii unmoved as they read the
blOfntphy • of the Reverend Robert Radclyffe Dolling, clergy-
man of the Church of England and social worker of interna-
tional renown. His story is the story of a man deeply
impressed with the sense of religion's worth in daily life and
strongly moved to bring every one of his fellow-beings under
the beneficent influence of the grace of Christ. To his mind
hciillhy human living and personal love for our Saviour were
the two supreme gifts of God to this world, and each moment
of his existence, every action and every thought of his, seem
to have been aimed at the wider diffusion of these among
men. The intellectual problems of religion weighed very
lightly upon him and he felt but little interest in doctrine or
discipline that did not bear upon the practical issues of con>
duct. This was his failing — that he did not seek to know how
Christian truth could be logically defended. His extraordinary
love for men was the chain that held him fast to creed and ■
ritual ; and his keen instinct for practical affairs the motive for
working so uniformly along Catholic lines.

Father Dolling's personality was truly an exceptional one;
for he possessed a magnetism that, to judge by results, was
literally irresistible. A Harrow boy and a Cambridge under-
graduate, he failed to make his mark as a student at either

•S. * Tkt Lift 4>f FAlktr tXtUUtf, By Charles E. Osborne. London : Edwin Arnold.

'903)

Views and Reviews.

255

of these institutions; but once engaged in active work — even
ifl the work of an Irish land agent — he gained and held the
affections of those he met to an extent that must be considered
as most phenomenal. Before his ordination, as a helper at the
|Fo3tmen's League, and later as incumbent of a mission in a
Portsmouth slum, and still again as vicar of St. Saviour's, a
statioa in the lowest quarter of the East End of London, he
proved beyond question that he was one who loved his fel-
low-tnen to an extent unusual even among the best type of
Christian. Aided by his two devoted sisters, he succeeded by
dint of prodigious effort, added to real genius, in saving count-
less numbers of boys and girls, of men and women, from physi-
cal, moral, and religious ruin

But the story is too long and too great to be outlined
here. Read the biography so sincerely written by his friend
and fellow worker, Father Osborne. Note the letter from his
fast friend, Rev. George Tyrrell, S.J., and the earnest tribute
from Cardinal-Archbishop Logue. Weigh the whole wondcr-
[ful narrative well, and then marvel that the Church of Eng-
lland should harass and hamper, instead of helping him, and
that the Church Catholic should have remained hidden from
one so ardently and honestly desirous to adopt as his own
'Very great pawer making for human betterment. His manly
and deeply religious disposition, his laborious days, his mag-
nificent though humanly unrewarded successes, his unwearying
self-consecration, his pathetic and premature death — these must
impress, and edify, and impel to higher living every reader
that can lay claim to a human heart. As the book is closed
■ one longs for the day when such men as this, wherever found,
'shall strive more triumphantly in the perfecting of humanity
through being held together in the bond of unity which Christ
would have to encompass all who labor in his name. Such a
consummation wilt be furthered, perhaps, by the present biogra-
phy, and the more so because of the sympathetic, outspoken,
unassuming, and generally agreeable tone of the writer who
presents it to the public.

8. — Any book on Biblical subjects is sufficiently recom-
mended if its title-page bears the name of ?ere Lagrange.*
The distinguished Dominican who presides over the school of

• La hfithfJt UiitorhjHt sHrtout a pn/p>>s d* l' Ancien Ttitamtnt. Par Ic P. Marie>Joseph
Igrinic OP. Piiris: Librairie Victor LecofTrc.
VOU LXXVIII.— 17

256

Views and Reviews.

[Nov..

St. Stephen at Jerusalem and edits the Revue Biblique has won
for himself a place among the world's greatest Old Testament
scholars. He is a bold critic, but a cautious and respectful
listener to the warnings spoken so frequently of late years from
the chairs of speculative theology. He must, to a very large
extent, sympathize with the conclusions and published writings
of men like Loisy and Houtin ; yet he considers the former of
these intemperate in casting off the old school, and the other
unduly satirical in his criticisms of it. In manner rather than
in substance he differs from Loisy. He is more reticent, more
deferential, more ready to pay compliments to those who he
knows are all eyes for his utterances^ and who have at times
strongly disapproved his attitude. His present work consists
of six lectures delivered a year ago at the Catholic University
of Toulouse, and deals with some of the most delicate problems
of Biblical research. The lectures are entitled: Critical Ex-
egesis and Dogma ; The Development of Doctrine, especially in
the Old Testament; Inspiration; The Historic Method; Histori-
cal Character of Hebrew Legislation; Primitive History.

In these essays is made an attempt which would be con-
sidered horrifying a few years ago, but is fairly respectable
now, to vindicate the rights of legitimate higher criticism, to make
allowance in our theory of inspiration for the avalanche of new
ideas let loose upon us by modern scholarship, and to estimate
the historic value of the early part of Genesis and of the legal
codes of the ]^vi->. The lectures are in popular style, and
naturally incomplete in the treatment of their several subjects.
For example, the lecture on Inspiration, while :t settles a great
many vexing questions for us, suggests a thousand others that
it makes no attempt to answer. This is inevitable both from
the extreme difficulty of the matter and from the short space
at the author's disposal. We must not object for what Perc
Lagrange, from the nature of his task, could not give us, but
be deeply grateful for the treasures he has placed before us.

As a matter of course, there will be remonstrances that the
great Dominican is too advanced. We may look to a certain
source in France for lamentation and protest. But the world
moves, and Catholic scholarship has pretty generally caught up
with the conclusions of its greatest leaders, men like Lagrange,
Rose, the mysterious "X." of the Studi Religiosi, zxiA even the
profoundest but most unfortunate of them all, Alfred Loisy.

'903]

ViEivs AND Reviews.

257

Per-« Lagrange's present book is invaluable to all who wish to
know the present state of othodox Biblical learning.

S. — The author of this volume Composition- Rhetoric from
Li^^rature* Margaret S. Mooney, has been for some years professor
o( x"hetoric and literature in the State Normal School, Albany.

In her years of experience she has learned well the needs
of "the students for whom she has compiled her latest book —
stLi dents of high schools, academies, and normal schools.

"The author believes that the educational value of study
along any line is largely dependent upon the order and method
of presenting the subject, and that in no line is this truth
more apparent than in the study of composition and rhetoric
This belief accounts for the order and arrangement of the sub-
ject-matter in the following chapters. The whole piece of
literature is studied first, then the parts are studied in their
organic relation to the whole and to one another,"

"It may come to pass/' she writes, "that the writing of
good English in varied forms will be secured because students
have gained some mastery of the art through striving to reach
ideals and not through the practice of some mechanical details."
The book is divided into Parts I. and IL, closing with aa
appendix.

Part I. deals with constructive work and the study of the
four classes of composition: narration, description, exposition,
and argumentation. Many of the examples for illustration are
drawn from the books prescribed for study by the Regents of
New York State.

Exactly what is meant by abstracts, amplifications, para-
phrasing, character and biographical sketches, and book re-
views is carcfutly, clearly, and concisely explained.

The problems in construction do not go outside the sphere
of literature required from the pupil, thus linking the two
studies so closely that the study of one proves a help to the
study and appreciation of the other.

The chapters on narration, description, and argumentation
are copious with good illustrations; not so much can be said
for the one on exposition. We think that the nature of the
term itself might be more fully explained.

The study of diction, occupying thirty-five pages of the

' Com^tilion- Rhetoric from lAteratmrt. For High Schools, Academics, and Normal
Schools. By Margaret S. Mooney. Albany : Brandow Priming Company.

258

ViEivs AND Reviews.

ov.

book, is extremely interesting, and ought to be an incentive to
a deeper study of what many students consider a dry and
tedious subject.

The close of the book is taken up with a study of some
of the figures of speech ; of the qualities of style, wit, humor,
and pathos; of the structure of verse, and the classes of
poetry. The appendix is devoted to the presentation of the
mechanical parts of a composition.

The volume of over 330 pages is well printed and neatly
bound in cloth. It is somewhat bulkier than many other
books on the same subject now used in the schools. But this
fact should constitute no drawback to its introducton into the
class-room for practical work, since it covers so ably and so
intelligently the extensive field for the thorough study of which
pupils usually require a number of volumes.

Superintendents and teachers would do well to examine its
contents, for the work deserves a wide circulation. We confi-
dently hope that it will meet with the success its exceptional
merit demands.

10 — The educational world has been peculiarly unfortunate
in regard to text books of English history. Those books
which have been written by historians of the character of Mr.
John Richard Green and Dr. Liogard are too extensive for
use in the class-room, while, on the other hand, many of the
text books published during the last few years, though excel-
lent in typography, are sadly lacking in scientific treatment of
the subject. In them the teacher finds page after page de-
voted to questions of comparatively little importance and,
what is worse, often of doubtful authority.

Most of them give little attention, and some none what-
ever, to the results of modern historical research. Topics
such as the " Gunpowder Plot," " The Popish Plot," and
" Mary Stuart " are treated in the late editions in the same
manner as they were before historical criticism had put those
subjects in an entirely new light. While those books have
been unsatisfactory to every thorough teacher, their use has
been especially painful to the Catholic; for in them, inter-
woven with the historical narrative, are wanton attacks on his
religion. Fables which the greater historians have long since
discarded are still being presented to the student as facts. It

I
I

1903]

ViEivs AND Reviews.

259

is true that in some of those books, after long paragraphs of
fiction, a note informs the student that the authority on which
rests the whole preceding incident is now seriously questioned ;
in a work which professes to give only the general outlines of
history, such a method can hardly be called scientific.

The Catholic public does not ask for a book which frees
Catholics from blame, nor is it pleased with those which mis-
represent and distort Catholic truth, while they go out of the
way to praise individual Catholics. It has as little respect for
the historian who condemns everything non- Catholic as it has
for him who reviles all that pertains to the Catholic religion.
But what the Catholics do desire and what they have long
beea ia need of, is a text book of English history compiled
in accordance with modern educational precepts: one which
brings out in bold relief the salient facts of history ; one which
does not crowd out all mention of some of the greatest move-
ments among the English people to make room for minor in-
cidents, whose very origin, to say the least, is doubtful.

This demand has at last been supplied. Mr. Wyatt-Davies
has compiled a text book * of English history which seems
to meet the requirements. It is a book of over five hundred
pages, printed in clear type. In size and general arrangement
it is well adapted for the use of the student; the table of con-
tents and inde.x are complete; it is well supplied with maps
and illustrations, and, what is most important, the author has
the impartiality of a true historian. Though intended only fcr
Catholic schools, we see no reason why the book should be so
limited; for it is not an ecclesiastical but purely a political
history of England. The author follows somewhat the same
plan as Mr. Green ; he has given us a history of the English
people rather than of royal families. He emphasizes such
great events and movements as the Industrial Revolution, the
Tractarian Movement, the development of the Great Council,
and the adoption of the Charter of John. In all respects it is
a work of great ability and deserves eminent success.

11— Father Copus, another Father Finn, writes a clevtr,
interesting bookf for boys and girls, particularly for boys. It

• EmgtitA Hislary for Catholic Schoob, By E. Wviiii-Davies. Sdw York : t-ongmaiis.
Green ft Co.

\Harry kuiitll. a Rockland College lioy. Vi\ Rev. J. E. Copus, S.J. (Cuihbert). N<w
.Yorfc : Bcnzigcr Brothers.

26o Views and Reviews. [Nov.,

is absorbing from start to finish. There is something crisp
and clean and wholesome about the story, which has no
mawkishness nor sentimentality in it, while full of that out-
spoken frankness that appeals to a wholesome nature. There
is rommce, too, and a dash of chivalry that quite takes hold
of one, and keeps up interest to the end. Harry Russell is a
fine fellow with all the faults and impetuosity of a young
American lad, yet if there is one handsome trait that sits like
a crown on his character it is his reverence and love for his
gentle mother; and Mrs. Russell is a beautiful type of a
mother. A refined gentlewoman brought to poverty by a
husband dabbling in inventions and patents, yet she is loyal
to herself and her children, and to her marriage vows, and
holds the reader's admiration as well as her children's a£fection.
The story is one that parents would like to see in their boys'
hands. Some good advice is given in a most pleasing manner,
and some amusing tales told of the sunny side of men of
affairs, like the lawyer Mr. Halyon, or the merchant Mr.
Longstreet. We wish Father Copus (the author) success in
this first book, and feel sure he will win golden opinions from
the innumerable young people who will delight in his hero,
"Harry Russell."

We think if the story were skilfully dramatized it would be
a great success on the college-stage as a simple tale of modern
life.

12. — Christian Reid's latest story * will furnish a few hours
of delightful reading. It is a tale of Mexico, and seldom has
the romance and old-time spirit of Spanish America been better
expressed in fiction. The grand scenery of the Sierra range,
the quaint hospitality of its miner-folk, the deep faith and the
hot blood within their souls and bodies, the Acadian loveliness
of their villages and hamlets, are made very real and very
vivid in these pages. The American villain is very villanous
indeed, and there is a suggestion all through that the American
character and civilization are contemptible in comparison with
the Mexican. We hesitate to hold such an opinion, and trust
thit our gifted author had no intention of so indoctrinating
us. But even if she had, we will forget and forgive, so enjoy-
able WIS the entertainment that her novel afforded us.

M Daughter of the Sierra. By Christian Rcid. St. Louis : B. Herder.

VIEWS AND Reviews.

261

13. — When a book* begins with the words, "these pages
are written for any girl who will read them, but with the par-
ticular hope that they may most often fall into the hands of
those in whom the joy of life runs strongly, and who dream
of living strenuously, in one way or another," — that book
promises to be interesting.

Nothing gets old-fashioned more quickly than a book writ-
ten for wide-awake young women. The conditions, the re-
quiremeDts, the dangers change so often and so suddenly that
one must " look alive " if he is to meet them.

And again : any work which professes to appeal to the
girls or young women of the day must be sprightly and inter-
esting; it must take into account the fact that those whom it
hopes to have for readers are accustomed to expect and de-
mand in their reading something that will not weary them
with its dulness. The bright and entertaining books are so
many that nothing antique or prosy, even though — or rather,
especially if — it be moral or spiritual, can claim a hearing.

Miss Fletcher is evidently not unaware of these facts. She
has written an entertaining little pamphlet, a straightforward, com-
mon -sense, readable bit of explanation and counsel for Catholic
girls. No girl who picks it up will be wearied with it, even
though her taste be only for that which will please her. But
along with the pleasure she will get much instruction, for the
author has not been afraid to speak of important matters, of
love and marriage, of vocation and responsibility, of the proper
use of freedom, and in general, in the short space of 80 pages,
of most of the subjects of this class that can interest a girl of
to-day.

14 — Bishop Hogan's compact little book,t on Nautical
Distances and hotv to compute them, is based on a very good
idea; that of giving a rule intelligible to all having a merely
elementary mathematical education, and giving an approximate
result, which is all that is needed by the non-professional ; of
course the desired result rnay be obtained just as quickly and
easily, and more accurately, by those familiar with spherical
trigonometry and the use of logarithms ; but the immense

* U^ht for Nrw Timet, a Book for CatholU Girls. By Margaret Fletcher. With a pre-
face by Rev, W. D. Strappini, S.J. London: Art and Book Company; New York: Ben-
tiger Brothers.

\NautttAl Distances and Hoiu to Compute Tkem. By the Right Rev. Jolm J. Hogan.
Kansas, Via. : Columbia Publishing Company,

262

Views and reviews.

ov.

majority of those familiar with arithmetic are not at home in
these subjects. And it is for them that the book is written.

The tabh

>f U

rhich

les or latituaes, longitudes, and distances, whict
form the bulk of the work, are very convenient for any one,
as welt as interesting.

As the rule applies to finding distances between any two
points on the earth's surface, we think that the title should not
seem to restrict it to nautical ones.

15 — This series of the Jones Readers • embraces five volumes,
and is intended to cover the reading work of the eight grades of
the elementary school. The reputation of the author, President
L. H. Jones, of the Michigan State Normal College, is a recom-
mendation for their excellence. The series was compiled with
the idea that the student after mastering them would readily
understand and interpret any other readings of equal grade.
The books are quite attractive in binding and illustration, and
cover an unusual amount of reading matter. The selections are
taken from the most modern authors of repute, and with but
few exceptions are calculated to give the beginner a good intro-
duction to English literature.

A peculiar feature of the Readers, and a happy one, is the
endeavor throughout to inculcate moral duties and moral ideas,
manliness, heroism, kindness, patriotism. This, of course, is not
done in a Catholic way, and will be of little or no avail unless
there be religious instruction to give a foundation and a war-
rant to this moral training. The plan of the Readers arises
from a realization of the truth that a system of public instruc-
tion without morality is incomplete indeed. As a literary
compilation the Readers are excellent; as the agencies of sound
moral training they will fail of their purpose, not through any
fault of the author but from the very necessities of the case,
except where there has been previous or simultaneous definite
religious instruction.

THE ENCYCLOP.F.DIA BRITANXICA.f
The twenty-eighth volume of the Britannica is an appro-
priate sample of the extent and the comprehensiveness of this

• Tkt Jonei Rtadtn. By L. H. Jones. Boston ,-ind New York : Ginn & Co.

t Encyclefitdia BrUannicu. New Volume* constituting, with the Volumes of tb« NinCh
Edition, the Tenth Fidiiion of that Work. Vol. iv., forming Vol. xxviii. of the Complete
Work. XcwVork: The Encyclopiedia Britannica Company.

1903]

Views and Reviews.

263

work. Many of the subjects treated are large indeed, but ail
may be said to be covered with care and thoroughness.

However, we cannot give such a measure of praise to the
opening essay on " The Growth of Toleration/' by Sir Leslie
Stephen. It is an ultra development of Mill on Liberty, and
wc would disagree with many of his causes as to why tolera-
tion exists, and also with some of his principles ; moreover
the essay is touched here and there with a vein of sarcasm
from which the writings of Sir Leslie Stephen are seldom free.
The volume contains many subjects in the scientific line:
electricity, theoretical and practical, with its subdivisions; this
study alone, brought completely up to date, covers over one
hundred and twenty-five pages; and evolution, which is given
many columns, though again we take exception to the state-
ment that " the doctrine of evolution is now accepted as
a fundamental principle " — particularly when it embraces, as
the writer evidently meant, all the teachings of Huxley.
Beyond these the volume gives us an extensive history of
England from the time of Victoria's accession to 1901, of
its law, its history, its church ; a general history of conti-
nental Europe, including its geography and best known statis-
tics; a history of France, with much space given to the
Dreyfus affair ; and a history of Germany. Of Emerson the
volume quotes the rather self-damning words as regards a
reputation for serious and logical thinking: " I wish to say what
I feel or think to-day, with the proviso that to-morrow, per-
haps, I shall contradict it all."

Of Froude it says, he '* was not a historical scholar, and
his work is often marred by prejudicial and incorrect state-
ments. He wrote with a purpose. The keynote of his History
is contained in his assertion that the Reformation was ' the
root and source of the expansive force which has spread the
Anglo-Saxon race over the globe.' " Under Faribault we ex-
pected some history of the famous school question, but no
account of it is given. An interesting history is given of the
Employers' Liability and the Workmen's Compensation acts of
England, which furnish good thought for a moral treatise.

The illustrations of the volume are numerous, and the high
standard of the work is maintained throughout.

254

Views and Reviews.

[Nov.,

Aad as to criticisms and censures passed by our author on
matters which he has not even attempted to inform himself
upon, we need only mention his declarations that at the begin-
ning of the sixteenth century the Bible was almost an unknown
book; that the fourth Lateran Council in 1215 introduced the
dogmas of Baptism, the Holy Eucharist and Penance; and the
preposterous statement that the church considers the laity to
possess only natural morality, while those who take the three
vows have supernatural morality. No one who loves exact
scholarship can think highly ot a book like this, however one
respects the good intentions of its author. We trust that when
Mr. Osborn writes his next volume it will be after some years
of deep and patient study, and that he will refuse to put it
into print so long as there is a vague idea in it, or a feeble
argument, or a misrepresentation of the other side of the
question.

7. — Not many will remaiji unmoved as they read the
biography • of the Reverend Robert Radclyffe Dolling, clergy-
man of the Church of England and social worker of interna-
tional renown. His story is the story of a man deeply
impressed with the sense of religion's worth in daily life and
strongly moved to bring every one of his fellow-beings under
the beneficent influence of the grace of Christ. To his mind
healthy human living and personal love for our Saviour were
the two supreme gifts of God to this world, and each moment
of his existence, every action and every thought of his, seem
to have been aimed at the wider diffusion of these among
men. The intellectual problems of religion weighed very
lightly upon him and he felt but little interest in doctrine or
discipline that did not bear upon the practical issues of con-
duct. This was his failing — that he did not seek to know how
Christian truth could be logically defended. His extraordinary
love for men was the chain that held him fast to creed and
ritual ; and his keen instinct for practical affairs the motive for
working so uniformly along Catholic lines.

Father Dolling's personality was truly an exceptional one ;
for he possessed a magnetism that, to judge by results, was
literally irresistible. A Harrow boy and a Cambridge under-
graduate, he failed to make his mark as a student at either

. -> * Tht Uft of Father Dolling. By Charles E. Osborne. London: Edwin Arnold.

'903]

V/EIVS AND REVIEIVS.

255

of these institutions ; but once engaged in active work — even
iin the work of an Irish land agent — he gained and held the
(tffectioas of those he met to an extent that must be considered
as roost phenomenal. Before his ordination, as a helper at the
postmen's League, and later as incumbent of a mission in a
'Piirtstnjuth slum, and still again as vicar of St. Saviour's, a
station in the lowest quarter of the East End of London, he
proved beyond question that he was one who loved his fel-
low-men to an extent unusual even among the best type of
Christian. Aided by his two devoted sisters, he succeeded by
dint of prodigious effort, added to real genius, in saving count-
less numbers of boys and girls, of men and women, from physi-
cal, moral, and religious ruin

But the story is too long and too great to be outlined
here. Read the biography so sincerely written by his friend
and fellow worker, Father Osborne. Note the letter from his
I fast friend, Rev. George Tyrrell, S.J., and the earnest tribute
ifrom Cardinal-Archbishop Logue. Weigh the whole wonder-
ful narrative well, and then marvel that the Church of Eng-
land should harass and hamper, instead of helping him, and
that the Church Catholic should have remained hidden from
one so ardently and honestly desirous to adopt as his own
every great pawer making for human betterment. His manly
and deeply religious disposition, his laborious days, his mag-
nificent though humanly unrewarded successes, his unwearying
self-consecration, his pathetic and premature death — these must
impress, and edify, and impel to higher living every reader
that can lay claim to a human heart. As the book is closed
one longs for the day when such men as this, wherever found,
shall strive more triumphantly in the perfecting of humanity
through being held together in the bond of unity which Christ
would have to encompass all who labor in hts name. Such a
consummition will be furthered, perhaps, by the present biogra-
phy, and the more so because of the sympathetic, outspoken,
unassuming, and generally agreeable tone of the writer who
presents it to the public.

8. — Any book on Biblical subjects is sufficiently recom-
mended if its title-page bears the name of Pere Lagrange. •
The distinguished Dominican who presides over the school of

* Li hftthodt Histori.fut iurtout .r fropoi dt V AncitH Teitamtnt. P.nr le P. Marie-Joseph
L»grangir. O.P. Pahs: Librairie Vktor Lecoflre.
VOL. LXXVIII.— 17

266

Library Table.

[Nov.,

apportion the responsibility for that supreme disaster.
An anonymous writer severely criticises a recent article
in this journal from M. Delaporte, exposing the probable
plans oi the Italian general staff in case of a war against
France by Italy and Germany. M. Bouradain discusses
the probable future of Belgian Congo, with reference to
its bearing on the adjoining French possession. M. X.
Des Genets presents an interesting collection of French
weather predictions and proverbs. M. E. Marin gives a
bold sketch, based upon the correspondence and private
diary of Mgr. Hacquard, vicar-apostolic of the Soudan
and the Sahara, of the work done by the White Fathers
in French Africa. Apropos of the recently published
Life of Gen. De Lamoriciere the Count de Mun recalls
some souvenirs and adds a few reflections.

Revue du Lille (Aug.): The various phases, religious and moral,
in Paul. Bourget's conversion are analyzed by M. C.
Lecigne. M. Th. Delmont contributes a critical literary
biography of Andre Chenier, in which he disagrees
strongly with M. Faguet's high estimate of that poet.
M. J. Des Broussq contributes a short eulogium of the
Fioretti of St. Francis. There is a short paper by M.
C. L. on Madame de Stael, the purport of which is to
show that a lofty idealism was the dominant note in her
character.

Science CathoUque (Sept.): M» Gombault completes his defence
of the old method of apologetics and definitively con-
demns the views of M. Blonde! as perniciously Kantian.
Taking up Renan's Lettres du Seminaire, Souvenirs
d'En/ance et de Jettnesse, Dr. Biguet would show the
true reasons of Renan's defection from the Faith. M.
I'Abbe Blondel writes an open letter to M. I'Abb^
Houtin, defending the apostolicity of some of the French
churches, which was attacked in Abbe Houttn's book.

Etudes (5 Aug.): Writing on "The State of the Clergy in
Modern Society " Henri Berchois insists upon the right
and evident duty of the clergy of France to take an
intelligent interest, if not an active part, in the political
affairs of the Republic. While deploring the lamentable
results of the policy of abstention pursued in the past,
the writer thinks that a firmer insistence upon their

I
I
I

1903

Library Table.

267

rights as citizens, as well as a more intelligent fulfilment
of the duties of citizenship on the part of clergy and
laity, would do much to lessen, if not avert, the evils
that afflict the church of France to-day. The beginning
of an article by L. de Grandmaison in review of M.
Harnack's recent work, in which the writer gives a
comprehensive summary of the work under consideration
as a preparation for future comment and criticism.
Imocralie Chretienne (Sept.): This number contains an inter-
esting account of the part taken by Pope Pius X. in
the Social Congress at Padua in 1896. The writer has
gone to the official record of the congress and has
brought forth the communications between Leo XIIL
and Cardinal Sarto, who was then honorary president.
The cardinal took a deep interest in the work of the
convention, and in his address explicitly stated that he
was in sympathy with all that the social congress had
done and was endeavoring to do. Another article that
deserves special mention is the report of the fifth annual
meeting of the federation of Christian workingmen which
was opened May 31, 1903. This article contains two
important addresses, one by the president, M, Lebat
teux, in which he treats of the influence that the fede-
ration has had on public opinion in France ; the other
by Prof, Leon Harmel, who speaks of the future of
Christian Democracy.

liMvtu Thomiste (Sept.-Oct.) : P. Jansen contributes another
article to the Probabilism controversy, presenting from
papal documents and papers of St. Alphonsus reasons
for considering Probabilism unlawful.

^<» Quinsaine (i Oct.): M. Michel Salomon indulges in some
interesting speculations about the revolutions which
scientific discoveries are likely to make in ordinary life.
He quotes M. B;rthelot's discourse to a banquet of
chemists, suggesting the possibility of men substituting
ordinary doses of pills for a diet of meat and bread.

Stimmen aus Maria- Laack (Sept.): Opens with a poem on the
late papal election, to which is affixed the well-known
name of Rev. A. Baumgartner, S.J. Father Pesch, writ-
ing on the much-talked-of reform in regard to construct-
ing dwelling houses so as to secure the best possible

Library table.

[Nov.,

sanitary conditions, mentions some legal measures of a
preventive nature which would tend to remove many
of the difficulties which at present hinder the success of
the movement. A lengthy article on Minister Combes
and the Concordat question is contributed by Father
Gruber, S.j. ■

Civilta Cattolica (5 Sept): As the Studi Religiosi recently
translated from the Church Quarterly Review an article
criticising the religious condition of Italy, the Civilta now
undertakes a refutation of the statements, as is "the
right and duty of Catholic publicists." (The article is a
pretty specimen of apologetic ; it shows how the criti-
cisms should be treated with disdain because associated
with errors of doctrine.) A severe criticism is passed
upon two Catholic scholars, Father Semeria and Father
Minocchi, for having paid a visit of respect to Tolstoi,
listened quietly to his attacks upon the Church, and
then inserted in an Italian journal an account of their
visit apt to scandalize readers.

{19 Sept.): Prints a letter inserted by Padre Semeria
in the Osscrvatore Romano, explaining that his visit to M
Tolstoi had been made merely for the sake of secular '
information, and that his report of the visit was hardly
calculated to give scandal — while P. Minocchi would
have to answer for himself on his return to Italy.

Rassegna Nazionale (16 Sept.): Padre Lulgi Vitali publishes
the preface of his forthcoming book, Patria e Religione,
and tells how, through his twofold devotion to Catho-
licity and to his native land, he was put in a sad position
by the antagonism of these two. Unable to believe
that the good of the Church demanded the restoration
of the Temporal Power — "two popes have been named
' Great ' in twenty centurieSf Leo and Gregory, and both
of them lacked Temporal Power" — he has awaited the
choice of the Conclave with anxiety. He recalled the
saying of Mgr, Kraus : "Catholicity will resume its
ascendency on the day when it ceases to be political
and becomes religious ** ; and with joy he saw that the
Conclave " abandoned the political Pope and chose the
religious Pope." An impassioned apostrophe to Pius X.
discloses the vision of a pontiff without temporal power

1903-

Library Table,

269

but reigning over a united world. E. S. Kingswan gives
a summary of American estimates of Pius X.
Sludi Reli^iosi (July-Oct): U. Fracassini, treating exhaus-
tively of the meaning of the Gospel phrase " King-
dom of God^" warns us against two faults of method in
such studies. The first fault is to deny or to regard
as insignifi^cant the development of doctrine which is
represented in the New Testament itself. The second is
to exaggerate this development by maintaining that
views expressed, for example, by St. Paul were unknown
to the first disciples, or not substantially preached by
our Lord. To the latter Loisy is unduly inclined,
and into the former Loisy's critic, P. Lagrange, has
fallen. As to " Kingdom of God " or " Kingdom of
Heaven " the interpretations practically reduce them-
selves to three: i. It has a present, ethical meaning,
/. e., the regeneration of the individual soul. So says
Harnack. 2. It signifies the Church. Thus thinks Pal-
mieri. 3. It is eschatological, and has reference to a state
of blessedness far in the future. This is the opinion of
Loisy. M. Fracassini thinks it clear that in the general
meaning intended by Christ, the phrase is eschatological.
The practical result of this conclusion is that the
abstract Christianity of Ritschl and Harnack is not Gos-
pel-Christianity. G. Bonaccarsi maintains in the course
of a profound analysis of Harnack's " Essence of Chris-
tianity " that the teaching of our Lord can never be
reduced to the thin elements proposed by the Berlin
professor ; but that it essentially includes dogma, —
dogma as to the personal nature and divine mission of
Christ, the expiatory value of his death, the Three Divine
Persons, the forgiveness of sin, the necessity of baptism,
the indefectibility of the Church, etc. P. Semeria
declares that God permitted the grave blunder of Gali-
leo's condemnation in order to teach all future members
of the Index and the Inquisition that their decisions are
fallible, and that they ought to be very careful about
their condemnations.

The first Encyclical of our Holy Father

The BnoyoUoal of pj^g x. has just been made public. The

Supreme Pontiff tells of the hesitancy with

which he accepted his holy office and recalls the glory of his

immediate predecessor.

The Encyclical re-echoes the thought of one of Leo's last
letters, that on " Jesus Christ, the Redeemer." Pius X. deplores
the evils of modern society in severe and drastic tones: "We
find all respect for the Eternal God extinguished among the
majority of men, and no regard paid in the manifestations of
public and private life to the Supreme Will; nay, every
effort and every artifice are used to destroy utterly the
memory and the knowledge of God." This perversity, Pius
continues, may be taken, perhaps, as a foretaste of those evils
prophesied for the last days of the world.

But nevertheless the conditions are not beyond cure, and
the programme of Pius' reign is to restore human society to
Christ. Such also was the memorable call of Leo XIIL in his
encyclical at the opening of the century.

The saving truth of the world to-day, continues the Pontiff,
is the truth of Jesus Christ, the God- man, as preserved and
given to us with assurance and certainty by that Church alone
which he instituted upon earth. That truth is the keynote of
individual morality, of social order, and of natural justice.

The restoration of the world to Christ — such is the whole
burden of Pius X.'s message. The agents of that glorious
work are, first, the priests of the Church. They must be
clothed with Christ Though all are included in the exhortation
" to advance towards the perfect man in the measure of
the age of the fulness of Christ, it is addressed before all
others to those who exercise the sacerdotal ministry." Hence
all other tasks must yield to the training of the clergy unto
holiness.

Higher studies for priests are to be esteemed as worthy
of praise, but the missionary spirit should be the foremost
spirit of the ministry, for priests, " while cultivating ecclesiastical
and literary erudition, should dedicate themselves more closely
to the welfare of souls through the exercise of those ministries

•903]

COMMENT ON CURRENT TOPICS.

271

proper to a priest zealous of the Divine glory. ' It is a great
grief and a continual sorrow to our heart ' to find Jeremias's
lamentation applicable to our times: 'The little ones asked for
bread, and there was none to break it to them.' "

Tiie Holy Father states that the principal way to restore
the empire of God over souls is religious instruction. " It is
not true that the progress of knowledge extinguishes the faith ;
rather is it ignorance, and the more ignorance prevails the
greater is the havoc wrought by incredulity,"

But in the apostolate of Christ's word there is no more
efficacious means than charity. Bitterness will effect nothing.
"Charity will extend itself even to those who are hostile and
who persecute us. They perhaps seem to be worse than they
really are. Who will prevent us from hoping that the flame
of Christian charity may dispel the darkness from their minds
and bring to them light and the peace of God ? "

And then the Holy Father adds an exhortation to the laity,
which we believe most opportune, and which we hope Catholic
men and women will take to themselves, and realizing their
vocation be fired with zeal by the words of the Supreme Pon-
tiff to fulfil it: "It is not priests alone, but all the faithful
without exception, who must concern themselves with the inter-
ests of God and souls." The great power of the layman to-day
i* the power of example. Like the priests, they also should
l>e rnissionaries. " The times in which we live demand action,
but action which consists entirely in observing with fidelity and
zeal the divine laws and precepts of the Church, in the frank
and open profession of religion, in the exercise of every kind
of charitable work without regard to self-interest or worldly
advantage. Such luminous examples given by the great army
of the soldiers of Christ will be of much greater avail in moving
and drawing men than words and sublime dissertations."

When in every village the law of the Lord is faithfully
observed, then will come the restoration of all unto Christ and
that independence to the church which is her right.

The Encyclical closes with an appeal to Mary, the Blessed
Mother of God.

In the power of its exhortations, the opportuneness of its
message, the practicability of its advice ; in the love and charity
for all souls and the spirit of personal devotion which it evi-
dences, the Encyclical confirms our belief that Pius X. is a
▼OU LXX7III. — 18

272 COMMENT ON CURRENT TOPICS. [Nov.,

worthy successor to his glorious predecessor, and leads us to

hope that what he himself writes of Leo XIIL may one day

be written of himself, " that, ruling the Church with wisdom, he

showed himself adorned with such sublimity of mind, such lustre

of every virtue, as to attract to himself the admiration even of

adversaries, and to leave his memory stamped in glorious

achievements."

The passion for racial solidarity and racial

The 4.ustro-Httn- predominance which manifested itself so
garian Cnsis.

emphatically in the latter half of the past

century, and which is increasing in intensity, is to be one of
the most important factors in shaping the immediate future
history of the nations.

The acute crisis in the relations of the component parts of
the Austro-Hungarian Empire is an expression of this ten-
dency — an expression which it seems will be very difficult if
not altogether impossible to suppress, and which is calculated
to alter materially the present relations of the European coun-
tries. A definite and continued disagreement between the two
parties, beyond affecting the monarchy itself, has a vital bear-
ing on the Near Eastern Question. For if Hungary were to
rebel it would drive Austria into a defensive alliance with
Prussia, which means a withdrawal from the present Austro-
Russian treaty that now insures some security to the rest of
Europe from the inroads of the Turks.

• The question at issue concerns the constitution of the army,
made up of the men of both countries. In return for the bills
authorizing an increase in the army of 22,000 men, the Hun-
garian nationalists demanded certain concessions, which were
refused. Among them were the use in the army of Hungarian
standards and emblems, instruction in Hungarian, a Hungarian
staff, and the use of Hungarian as the language of command
to Hungarian regiments. These the Magyar press consider as
essential to the maintenance of national dignity. But the
Austrians, headed by Emperor Francis Joseph, steadily refuse
to grant such demands, which they argue, and seemingly quite
logically, would destroy all possibility of order or united action
on the battle-field. The extremists of the Independent Hun-
garian Party against all this, go so far as to demand the in-
stitution of two crowns, one for Austria and another for Hun-
gary, which would mean of course complete separation and
the creation of new treaties among the nations of Europe.

I903.J

Comment on Current Topics.

273

Perhaps the recent words of Emperor William during his visit
to Francis Joseph bore reference to such a crisis, and showed
his friendliness to the Austrian Emperor in order to influence
the Hungarians to modify their demands.

Let us hope that more moderate counsels than those now
discussed will prevail, and that for the peace and security of
Europe the present Austro-Hungarian monarchy will continue.

The work done by the Catholic Church for

Catholic Indian ^j^g welfare, spiritual and temporal, of the
Schools, ^ r '

American Indian is one of the brightest

pages in her history. We read with delight the history of the
late congress of Chippewa Indians and the remarkable resolu-
tions drawn and adopted by them of love for the Holy Father,
of sympathy with persecuted French Catholics, of gratitude to
their national benefactors, and to the Society for the Preserva-
tion of the Faith among their children. The fact of the with-
drawal of government appropriations to the Catholic Indian
schools — appropriations given out on a per capita basis — is well
known to all, and the consequent hardships to Catholic mission-
aries and teachers, the danger of neglect as regards Catholic
Indian children — the danger, in fact, to the whole system of re-
ligious instruction among them — should be equally patent to all.
The work of the Society for the Preservation of the Faith
among Indian Children is now simply a matter of Catholic
charity. The extreme necessities of the case, the efficient work
for God which can be done among these poor souls— that our
nation has so neglected — if the Gospel can but be taught them,
ought to be sufficient to fire the heart of the earnest Christian
and lead him to further the work as best he can.

A 80-oalled
Prophet.

Now and again in the world's history there
have arisen religious fanatics, proclaiming a
special message and mission (rom God, and
styling themselves " Reformers." Some of them have been honest,
some of them have been frauds. An unsettled state of religious
belief among the populace is the field they most assiduously
cultivate. To-day the phenomena of religious restlessness, doubt,
anxiety, are clearly and extensively showing themselves. But
in spite of the loss of faith, man is an obstinately religious
being. We might naturally, therefore, look for the rising of
some prophet — the coming of a reformer, or of many reformers,
one outdoing and rivalling the other. They have corcve bt^oxt

274 Comment on Current Topics. [Nov.,

and it was about time that one should come again. And he
has come to New York with lots of noise in the shape of Dowie
the Restorer with his host of Zion.

We speak upon the matter, not because we think the sub-
ject of it is worthy of the notice, but because, to our surprise,
we have received several inquiries about his work. As regards
Catholics, they cannot for a moment have any doubt as to the
falsity of his apostolate. nor do they require a distinct, infallible
utterance from the Pope to learn that. Neither does any other
normally rational creature.

As to Dowie's belief in himself, well, for an absolute judg-
ment on that point, we leave it to Him who alone can make
it. Almighty God. But for us, who must judge from external
signs and conduct and who arc forced to give an opinion, be-
cause Dowie is a public man and boasts a public mission, we
will say distinctly that he is a base impostor.

He proclaims himself a prophet, yet he gives no proof of
his divine mission. He takes the name of one of God's chosen,
yet in no particular has he ever justified his action or shown any
possession in common with the ascetical Elias. He preaches a
gospel of self-denial, yet indulges unblushingly in luxuries
of the rich ; he claims a spiritual mission, yet is begrimed with
the material things of this world, while Elias had to be fed
by ravens, fasted long and lived in a cave. ^

He employs the coarsest billingsgate and the vilest metaphors,^
He is a tyrant, a supreme autocrat, a successful business man
if you will, but we would have to stultify ourselves most out-
rageously to believe that the man is other than a fraud. He
will pass away shortly and go the way of all impostors.

*
It is a significant characteristic of the press of

The Perversion of ^^j^g country that it emphatically denies [that
the Public Con- , ^ f *^ ., .,. "^ '

science ^"^ State has any responsibility to preserve

and to guard that public conscience which
it is the divine right of the church to establish. Recently a
leading journal contained an editorial apropos of an infamous
divorce case, in which it proudly challenged any minister to
marry the guilty parties and preserve his good name, yet said
that the State might do this, and uttered no word of com-
plaint against such an action.

Now, the case was a most flagrant one ; both parties had
^^Heen judged by the State as guilty of immorality, yet the

1903]

COMMENT ON CURRENT TOPICS.

275

State might turn about with impunity and deliberately legalize
what it had declared by its own lips to be crime.

We write this here not alone to call attention to the wide-
spreading cancer of divorce, but also to note a wider and
deeper principle regarding the welfare of the State.

The State may have in itself but a material power and only a
temporal end, but the sure basis of all these and of their development
must be spiritual — that is, must rest in the conscience of the indi-
vidual members out of which is made the conscience of the nation.

It may be well to recall that, apart from preparing souls
for everlasting life, the Catholic Church ever seeks the welfare
and the prosperity of the citizen as a creature here on earth and
of society, of which he is naturally a member. It is not only on
the grounds of eternal salvation, though they are foremost and
all-embracing, but also in order to teach the citizen his duty,
to establish and preserve social order, to insure a national
conscience, that she insists so strongly, so uncompromisingly
on religious and moral instruction for the young.

They who in their short-sightedness would lead the State
into the delusion that she is without obligation in the matter
and has no ofRce as the supporter and preserver of religious
and moral truth, are but as the blind leading the blind, and
both will fall into the ditch of national chaos and anarchy.

A public conscience is the only security of public law and
order. The government may pass as many laws as it will,
but unless there be back of them the sanction of the people,
they will be entirely ineffectual.

Respect and obedience for law come only from moral train-
ing, and such training without religious instruction is truly
fruitless. It is like building the roof of a house before its
foundations and its walls are constructed.

It would be well for us, as a nation, to awaken more earn-
estly to the truth that we ought to have and to cultivate a
public conscience.

A short while since an English court spoke of one cf our
divorces as "a fraud upon civilized jurisprudence," Now,
where are our conscientious American lawyers and legislators
that they do not seek to make unjustifiable this manifestly well-
deserved rebuke ? Where is the conscience of a people that
will stand for such immorality in the law which represents their
ideals and the ideals of their country?

2/6 THE Columbian Reading UNION. [Nov.,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

KNOWLEDGE of local history is rightly considered an aid to patriotism,
especially when heroic deeds are on record to stimulate ambition. For
this reason it is to be hoped that other writers will follow op the good work
started by Thomas A. Janvier in his new book on The Dutch Founding of
New York (Harper & Brothers). The Knights of Columbus have already
given considerable attention to the study of early New York history, and the
claims that demand recognition for distinguished public service by Catholics,
notably in the case of Governor Dongan. There is much yet to be done in
this field to show that the Catholic immigrants, who came somewhat later than
the Dutch and the English, have adorned many walks in life and contributed
largely to the welfare of the present city of New York.

• • •

As a matter of record it should be remembered that the New York Times
excluded parish schools from the competition for medals in its historical study
of New York City. A request made by the Rev. Thomas J. O'Brien, Super-
intendent of the Brooklyn Catholic Schools, to allow the pupils of parish
schools to enter its history competition met with refusal. That no reasonable
explanation has been given for this refusal may be judged from the following
letters :
71? the Publisher of the New York Times :

My dear Sir : I have just read with interest your proposed New York
City History Competition in to-day's issue of the New York Times. It occurs
to me that by limiting the competition to the public-school pupils, your
praiseworthy endeavor to stimulate civic pride in our great metropolis, espe-
cially among the youth of to-day, fails to consider a large number of the city
children. At least 85,000 are in attendance at the parish schools of New
York and Brooklyn. They are the sons and daughters of citizens, and are
destined to be a part of the future New York City. It seems to me that they
too might profit by the study which your History Competition is calculated to
provoke. By reason of their studies in Amierican history, on the same lines as
in the public schools, they are qualified to compete.

We are second to none in our desire to have American youth excel in the
civic virtues, and our pupils are taught to regard American patriotism as a
religious duty which they owe their beloved country. Speaking for our
Brooklyn parish schools, I should like, if you can see your way to it, that our
schools be allowed to enter this competition under conditions similar to those
set forth in your to-day's issue. Respectfully yours,

Brooklyn, May 19. Thomas J. O'Brien.

To the Publisher of the New York Times :

My dear Sir: I have noticed in your recent -issues several references to

the exclusion of other than public-school pupils from your History contest. I

beg leave to say that '* the reasons why the competition was confined to the

**blic schools " are not at all obvious, even after you have attempted to reveal

" That the public schools are the only schools which could be dealt

1903.] The Columbian Reading Union. 277

with as a system " is not true ; the Catholic public schools, for which I wrote,
are organized into a system, with superintendents, principals, teachers, courses
of study, graded classes, etc., and our organization, quite as well as the public-
school system, could insure a very large additional "number of competitors
with certainty of intelligent and fair sifting of the essays offered."

Of course, if the Timts felt that it could not extend its plan without " the
danger of relative failure," I accept that explanation as adequate, but at the
same time I recall the fact that the Herald, the World, and the Brooklyn
EagU are metropolitan journals that are able without such fears to open their
contests in literary and historical matters to all schools without discrimination.

Respectfully yours,

Brooklyn, May 25, 1903. Thomas J. O'Brien.

• • •

A circular from the Catholic University contains the announcement that,
mtb the approval of his Grace the Archbishop of New York, the Institute
of Pedagogy will be located, for the future, in the College building at
Madison Avenue and Fifty-first Street.

The academic year is divided into two half-years. The first half-year
begins October I and ends January 31. The second half-year begins Febru-
ary 2 and ends June l. Examinations are held at the close of each course of
instruction.

Students who complete, with satisfactory examinations, the courses given
by the Institute, receive certificates which entitle them to the exemptions
granted by the Board of Education in New York City.

Courses are offered in Principles and Methods of Education ; History of
Education; Psychology; Civics and American History ; English.

Two lectures per week, making a total of sixty lectures per year, are given
in each of these subjects.

The courses of the Institute are registered by the Regents of the Univer-
sity of the State of New York. They lead to the degrees of Bachelor of
Pedagogy and Master of Pedagogy.

The tuition fee for each course is $1^, payable in advance.

For circulars, containing description of the courses, ;:nd other details, ad-
dress: Rev. Dr. E. A. Pace, Cathedral Library, 536 Amsterdam Avenue,

New York City.

• • •

An appeal just put forward by the Authors' Society of New York U of
particular interest to all literary workers. The appeal points out that, almost
alone among civilized nations, the United States insists on charging full letter
rates (two cents per ounce) for book and magazine articles transmitted within
the confines of the United States to publishers and editors. The only excep>
tion is that when these MSS. have been put into type they may be sent, if ac-
companied by the proof-sheets, at book rates within the limits of the United
Sutes.

Nor is this the only anomaly in the present postal laws. MSS. may be
sent from the United States to the remotest countries, or from the remotest
countries to the United States, ,at one cent per two ounces. Thus, an author
just across the frontiers, in Canada or Mexico, may send his MSS. to any part
of the United States for one-fourth less than would be charged for purely
domestic transmission.

278 THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Nov.,

The law bears hardly upon American brain-workers, because a MS. is not
often disposed of at its first destination, and the expenses of successive trans-
missions to and fro must all be borne by the writers.

The Authors' Society expects to submit a b'ill to both houses at the next
session of Congress, and it issues a call to all American authors to contribute
of their time, their energy, and their means to the work of the coming

campaign.

• • •

Quite a number of leading representatives were in attendance at Cliff
Haven for the Round Table Conferences of Reading Circles, August 25,
36, at 11:45 A. M., under the direction of Warren E. Mosher.

First Conference. — Value and necessity of organization in Reading Circle
work. How to organize. The question of membership. Systematic courses
vs. desultory reading. Social features. Current topics. How to revive in-
terest in the movement.

Second Conference. — Relation of the Reading Circle to the Summer-
School. How to attract our young people and how to retain them in the Cir-
cle. Alumni Reading Circles. A common line of work. Central direction.
Advantages and necessity. What the Circle can do for Catholic truth.
University extension. Catholic publications. The introduction of sound
literature in public libraries.

A conference of Reading Circle representatives was held on Thursday
morning, August 27, at 11:45, ^^ arrange programme for Reading Circle Day,
and to assist in the extension of the movement. Any who wish to make in-
quiries about the way to begin a Reading Circle should write to Warren £.
Mosher, 39 East Forty-second Street, New York City.

TOPICS TO BE COKSIOERED IN FORMING A READING CIRCLE.

How to organize — ^by general call or picked members.

Prescribed course — how arrived at.

Lessons, most important feature. Supplementary readings and exercises,
secondary, but both thoroughly prepared.

Leaders. Tb«ir duty ; tact in drawing out backward members rather
than monopolizing topics and time.

Programmes. Too much variety worse than not enough. Apt to be
distracting.

Social features.

Mode of conducting a^eetings — formal or informal.

Frequency of meetings. Individual home work the basis.

The attitude of Catholic High School and Academy graduates toward
the Reading Circle.

Constitution and By-Laws, their advantages.

How to plan the Circle work.

• • •

At Ottawa, Canada, the d'Youville Circle resumed its new session's work
on Tuesday evening, the 6th of October. The meeting was large ; some new
members were registered. A brief account was given of the summer visitors
to the convent, — many of theni alumna;, and some the friends who have shown
-* — 'nterest in the association from the beginning.

plan of study for the new session was outlined. It will be as in the

1903.]

THE Columbian reading Union.

279

two preceding sessions — historical and literary. In history the study of the
Renaissance has led up lo ihe Reformation, and this to the revolutions of
the eighteenth century. It now remains to see what the developments, espe-
cially the reactionary ones, of the nineteenth have been. Beginning with
the Conference of the Holy Alliance at Vienna in 1815, very special notes to
be made on the great Religious Renaissance in England.

On every alternate history evening the study will bear on the mediaeval
institutions, by way of comparative study, to see what has been gained and
»hatl05t since we have added the steam and electric motor powers to those of
chivalrous enthusiasm and simple faith.

The Rev. W. J. McGinnis, D.D., of lirooklyn, in his address to the senior
pupils at the convent in the early September days, offered his yearly prize to
the best class paper on this subject, while the Rev. Lucian Johnston, of Balti-
more, offered to the same competitions a prize for the best papers on the lady
0^ the then upper classes, la chatelaine, compared with the ideal woman as
religious and secular education make her to-day. Both prizes are much
valued, and the d'Youvilte Circle will do the same work without competing
tor the rewards.

The literary study will be a continuation of the great nineteenth century
poets who have shown the tendency of a revival or renaissance of faith. The
Preraphaelites to be considered in their relation to the Oxford movement,
but some time at each meeting will be given to the sweet singers now with us,
without any concern as to their tendency.

The Rev. Lucian Johnston's review of a book entitled The Sins of a
Saint, by P. R. Aiiken, mentions several authorities whom Aitken also men-
tions, and does not fear to say, proof-in-hand, on the pages of these volumes
of Lingard, Green, Kemblc, that Mr. Aitken's use of these authorities is
simply " an outrage on all historical deceney."

A new poem by Frank Waters (Ottawa), author of The Water Lily, an
oriental tale, was mentioned. It is a weirdly beautiful story of an artist whose
demonized violin brought desolation and ruin, but whose true love brought
back peace and joy through awful sacrifice and pardon. It has been pro-
nounced of Millonic beauty, as to its construction, by some of the reviews. It
is a mediaeval legend of the Hartz Mountains.

• • •

Some excellent advice from Bishop Hedley is here condensed relating to
the selection of the best reading for Catholics. There are two classes or
descriptions of Catholic reading; one is the directly religious sort, such as
catechism), sermons, spiritual reading, and apologetics. The other is only
indirectly religious, and appeals to the human faculties in general — to the
imagination, the heart, and the sense of the beautiful, as well as to the intclH-
gence. .\Uhough what [ here say applies in a great measure to both classes
of production, yet it is chiefly of the latter I would speak ; that is, of history,
biography, natural science, travel, fiction, and verse. What I would urge is
ibis that we should try not to be content except with the very best ; the best
in matter, and the best in literary fornk and presentment. It appears to me
to be absolutely certain, from experience, that it is only the very best that
ever achieves anything like universal acceptance. Literature that is poor in
taste and feeble in expression somstimes catches the popular ear ; bvii \.Vve.

28o THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION. [Nov.,

reason is, that it also appeals to the baser human propensities. The literature
of the good, the moral, and the religious starts with a human bias against it.
And unless it is excellent, and even exceptional, in form and presentment, it
will never set the human field on fire. It is, therefore, worth our while to
strain every nerve to secure excellence. One production that is recognized as
superlative will do more in the good cause than fifty which are only mediocre.
A really good work wins its way, gradually but surely, and attains the univer-
sality which alone in these days is effective in turning the tide of evil literature.
A first-rate journal or newspaper would have a similar ubiquity ; whilst inferior
publications never get further than our own camp. Is it fanciful, or Utopian,
to insist on this, in our present conditions of means and writers ? I do not
think so. Certainly we cannot call forth a genius to order. Not even the
strongest publishers, with all their resources, can make sure of a great literary
work. But, as in other matters, the recognition of an axiom like this gives us
a good working rule in details. That rule is, in my opinion, that all Catholics
who aspire to guide the production of Catholic literature should cultivate an
enlightened fastidiousness. This does not mean that we should sit down and
wait for the apparition of a genius, and meanwhile publish nothing. Ordinary
needs must always be supplied, and second and third-rate productions are a
great deal better than nothing. But we should never be content with the
second and third-rate, for sucli ware will never attain the universality that I
am harping upon. We should never be content with them ; and we should
cultivate the spirit of restricting what is evidently second and third-rate within
limits, on principle ; reserving ourselves, and looking out for something
really great.

It is not volume or mass, but vitality, that will make head against the
secular press. Even in supplying the wants and demands of our own flock we
may be too indifferent to quality ; yet, as far as that goes, I should be the last
to place any critical restrictions on a good and prudent judgment. But if we
are to take our place in the great arena of the modern world, we must pray
for a genius. Is it impossible that our leaders, our rich men, our scholars,
should enter into some kind of co-operation to facilitate the appearance of
really first-class Catholic literature ? I shall be told that you can have what
is first-class if you are prepared to pay for what is first-class. To this I would
reply that I do not see why it is impossible that we should pay for what is
first-class. By united and organized effort a great deal can be done, even in
the direction of raising money. But money and materia] resources are not by
any means all that is required. Even in our own body, I know many in-
stances of money having been lavished on second and third-rate productions.
What we must have is, first, what I have called an enlightened fastidiousness
among our leaders — our well-off men and women, our devoted and apostolic
men and women, and our active Catholics, lay and clerical. We cannot
expect all our organizers and contributors to be persons of literary judgment.
But we can well expect them to have their attention kept wide-awake on the
matter of literary excellence. We can expect them to shake off the idea that
good literature is a fortuitous accident, that there are no practical means for
making sure of it, and that we must trust to chance and luck. We can expect
them to use their eyes, to see how some literature seizes upon the world's
acceptance, and to inquire the why and the how. We can expect them to

I903J

THE Columbian Reading Union.

281

bring to all their discussions lofty and enlightened views, and always to lean,
in their decisions, to what seems to be belter, and not to what is clearly very
indifferent, when it is a question of literary publication. And above all, we
can expect that a large and increasing number of our influential people, im-
pressed with the importance of good Catholic reading, should interest them-
selves, whether by discussion, co-operation, or readiness to contribute in the
Catholic press ; for it is certain that although the literary value of a com-
munity may not be greater than that of its individual members, yet the agfita-
tion and concussion of atoms invariably produce both light and heat — and a
community which is mentally and physically on the alert will, from time to
time, produce or facilitate something far more excellent than could he expected
from the best intentions of mere organizers, who are too often left to them-
selves and to the consciousness that few sympathize with them so far as to
take a living interest in what they are doing.

Let us consider, for one moment, that fascinating topic, the possibility of
a first-class daily paper, carried on under Catholic auspices. I will suppose
that it is equal in literary power, in news, and in general contents to the
average of other daily papers. We should then have such advantages as the
following: The true statement, morning by morning, of all public information
affecting the Church and Catholic religion; the Catholic version of the con-
stantly recurring scandals, as they are called, and of histories tending to
injure Catholicism ; the prompt contradiction and refutation of lies and slan-
ders; comment of the right sort on the doings of politicians and on current
history and crime ; sound and religious views on matters social, industrial,
and municipal ; and the constant prominence of distinctively Catholic topics.
Besides this we should have general literature and art treated with wisdom
and with due regard to the morality of the Gospel ; and more serious matters,
such as Holy Scripture and the relations between faith and science, would be
handled with reverence and knowledge.

Nov, it is quite certain that we have Catholic writers in abundance at this
moment; they could be formed into a staff, to make this ideal an actuality ;
and therefore to make such a paper widely read ; and therefore, again, to do
something which would go far to neutralize the secular press. I do not know
anything which would so revolutloniie the conditions of modern reading. A
hundred examples of what might have been could be found in the Catholic
subjects handled by the press during the last ten years. But I will take one
from the United States. In the United States there is no Catholic daily, any
more than among ourselves. Ever since the Philippine annexation the affairs
of Catholicism in the Philippines have been a burning public question in the
States. During all this time story after story, we may say lie after lie, abuse,
scandalous tales, misstatements of church laws, garbled versions of fact, reli-
gious bigotry, and racial hatred have poured from the secular press in the
States. The Catholic press has tried to reply, but in no place had it more
than one chance to their six, and generally, before the Catholic weekly could
get out its refutaiion or its rectification, people had forgotten alt but the
general bad impression, and were in process of being impressed with some-
thing fresh. It certainly seems strange that there is no daily paper in the
strong and numerous communities of Catholics in the States. We are accus-
tomed to look to American Catholicism for a lead in everything that demands

2S2

THE Columbian Reading Union. [Nov., 1903.]

pluck aind skill. Even in Canada they are hardly better off. On the other
hand, in the little country of Holland, with its 1,700,000 Catholics, there are
several Catholic dailies. And I need not refer to Ireland — where, indeed.
Catholic papers must needs flourish, and are just as vitally required as in this
country, but for obvious reasons do not greatly influence the English press. M

Meanwhile, whilst we wait for our clergy and laity, our scholars and our™
rich men, to unite their forces, and, like littk Greece, when Greece was for
once united, hurl themselves upon the Asiatic hordes, we can perhaps do not
a little by making good use of what we have. I have spoken mostly of the
supply of good reading; but there is a great deal that could be said about the
demand. I will only say this — that all of us, whether priests or laymen, are
doing an excellent thing if we try, wherever we can, to teach the young to read.
I am not, of course, leferring to what is taught in the elementary school, but
to what has to be t;(ught to those who are grown up and are the material out
of which our Catholic public is being formed. To teach a young man or young
wiMnan to read, you must lose no time with them ; if they get through a year
or two after leaving school without reading they will never read. I do not
mean they will never read the paragraph press, the sporting and betting paper,
the ** acaadal " papers, and perhaps the short and silly story papers. But they
will not read good and salutary reading. You must begin at once, with your
auitable Catholic literature, with your guild, your society, your club, your good
advice. They must be got to feel by degrees that there is a vast region, by no
IU«ana uninteresting, that lies outside daily life and material existence, and
which can be known from books. They must be made to feel that a man or
w%«tnAn who doc» not to some extent travel or live in this ideal, superior,
and tniellectual world, lives only half a life — nay, not half, but a stunted,
itooi, and sordid life. They must be shown that their religion is a vast and
|loriou« universe which they can only come to know really well by reading.
Aud (hcv mutt also be taught by experience that one way to sweeten toil and
W hvlp u n«An to a quiet, kind, and peaceful life is to take frequent plunges
(nio that world of curious and refreshing reality which is made up of the story
(it \\m> p*«t and the fancies of men who can think and dream. Doubtless this
kind »d Itrtining will fall mostly upon the clergy.

Ill nty opinion, to teach the young to read is one of the most essential
pAtU ii( p«i«loral work. And we cannot sufliciently bless the Catholic Truth
HwolVly (or suiiplying them with literature of every kind and degree, so that
l\i> inNllCAn complain that he has nothing to offer his flock. But this is a
liMMfir III winch the laity also, both men and women, can effectively help; and
It tviiiilit ccrtAinly be worth their while to do so. In what is called social work,
piiibably there is not half enough use made of the press. School teachers who
rilain an interest in their growing-up boys and girls should never be satistied
until they have given them a taste for reading. Brothers of St. Vincent dc
I'liul aril] vidtiiig ladies should have little things ready to attract young per-
•nii« •uul to interest the family. And our Sunday-schools might profit by the
ttkaiiipic «if non-CathoHcs and send the children home rejoicing with an illus-
IrAttd magailne or tale. So, by degrees, with the habit of reading would
^Mtue thr demand fur reading, and the Catholic body would stir itself more
,jiii| iiiiiin t«> *u|»|>ly better and better reading. M. C. M.

CATHOLIC WORC

Vol. LXXVIII. DECEMBER. 1903. No. 465.

Uii{E Bethlehem.

BY LOUISE F. MURPHY.

fUARDING their flocks, that hallowed night
of old,
The Shepherds saw Judea like a gem
Flashing her lights o'er humble Bethlehem
Unto those simple watchers of the fold
Came echoes of the feasting : did they hold
Vain longings in their hearts ? Did they condem
But human-like, what God had planned for them
Aspiring to the power, and the gold ?3
But lo I unto their watching eyes was given
The glory of earth's one sweet night of heaven I
So we, repining oft, for things afar,
The worldly things, that vain and empty are,
Forget the little city of our heart
Where lies our heaven, glorious, and apart.

THS MiSSIONARr SOCIBTY OT St. PaUX. THE ApOSTLE IN THE STATB

or New York, 1903. g
VOL. LXXVIII. — 19

284

S//! Henry Irving' s Dante.

[Dec.

SIR HENRY IRVING'S DANTE.

BY J. J. WALSH. M.D., Ph.D.

EW YORK has recently been entertained by an-
other visit from the distinguished English actor,
Sir Henry Irving. Most of his New York season
was taken up with the presentation of "Dante,"
a drama written especially for him by the well-
known French playwright, M. Victorien Sardou, in collabora-
tion with M. E. Moreau, a name unfamiliar as yet to English-
speaking playgoers. There is no doubt that Mr. Irving is
physically an almost ideal impersonation of the great Floren-
tine poet. Probably very few men since Dante's time have
been so well adapted to body forth satisfactorily to the mind's
eye his human personality as he actually moved among his
contemporaries. It is evidently this that has tempted Sir
Henry into an almost unpardonable error at the height of his
great career. For, beyond Mr. Irving's satisfying counterfeit
presentment of the great poet, not only is there nothing to
say in favor of the play, but there is very much to be said
against it. The story, as told upon the stage, is an absolute
satire upon the life of one of the greatest men that ever lived.
That it is so beautifully staged and so artistically presented
only adds to the almost unspeakable wrong that is done to the
name of a man among men, one of the exceptional characters
of the race.

When the play was first produced in England last spring it
evoked in the columns of the London Tablet a deserved pro-
test from Mr. D. Moncrieff O'Connor, who condemned severely
the unwarranted representation of Dante, as forgetful of all his
own high thoughts — poetical, religious, and political — in his
solicitous anxiety for the fate of an unworthy woman and his
illegitimate child. Mr. O'Connor said, with commendable
directness:

" The outrage which M. Sardou has perpetrated in the play
now being performed at Drury Lane on one of the most hal-
lowed names in literary history, the dishonor he has attempted

1903]

S/J? HENRY IRVING' S DANTE.

28s

to attach to that memory, are painfully emphasized by the
genius and splendor with which that outrage has been pre-
sented. That English public opinion should allow, without
emphatic protest, the character of Dante to be traduced by
the calumny of a vulgar intrigue, must deeply wound all capa-
ble of being touched by what is most ennobling and elevating
in man. But that English scholarship, so rich in consecrations
to Dante, so loyal in sympathy, so profound in appreciation,
should have been unmoved by this pitiable insult is as deplora-
ble as it is incomprehensible. It is too ample a tribute to the
genius of Sir Henry Irving,

" Is it to be permitted that what is highest and most com-
manding in letters should be maligned and belittled * to make
a Roman holiday ' ? Is it to be permitted that one on whom
for centuries has been concentrated the study of brilliant
thought is to be falsified and wronged ' to tickle the ears of
the groundlings'?"

The indignity that is thus heaped upon Dante in the play
is all the more to be deplored as Dante's personal character
has always been considered of the loftiest. " Dante," said
Carlyic, " speaks to the noble, to the pure and great, in all
times and ages. He burns as a pure star fixed there in the
firmament, out of which the great and the high of all ages
kindle themselves. He is the possession of all the chosen of
the world for uncounted time." In a previous passage of his
lecture on The Hero as Poet, Carlyle had said: "True souls
in all generations of the world who look on this Dante will
find a brotherhood in him ; the deep sincerity of his thoughts,
his woes, and hopes, will speak always to their sincerity; they
will feel that this Dante, too, was a brother." If there is any-
thing that the play of MM. Sardou and Moreau attempts to
accomplish it is to smirch the essential purity of Dante's
character, and to impugn his sincerity as a man.

It is a question how far a dramatist is bound to respect
the truth of historical details as they are known, and how far
he is constrained to fidelity in the representation of the charac-
ters of historical personages whom he selects to put on the
stage. When the personages selected, however, are of the
importance of Dante, and are so closely bound up with the
life of the age in which they lived as to make any misrepre-
sentation of them a serious falsification of the history of the

286 S/J! HENRY IRVIN&S DANTE. [Dec,

times, then it would seem that the dramatist must forego an
appeal to historical interest and deliberately choose imaginary
characters if he wants to produce certain effects, or else must
not depart so far from the known facts as to make his work a
satire on the theme he has selected without in some way giv-
ing his audience a hint as to the truth in the matter.

It is well known that Mr. Irving, realizing the eminent
suitability of his personal appearance for the satisfactory pre-
sentation of Dante on the stage, has long had in mind the
desire to add this to his roll of characters before the close of
his career. Thete is a stage tradition in London that some
years ago he asked Mr. Tennyson, the late Poet Laureate, to
write for him a drama the principal character of which should
be the great Florentine poet. Tennyson appreciated very fully
the nature of the task thus asked of him, and is said to have
replied, after giving the subject serious thought, that it would
require the genius of another Dante properly to present the
character of the great Italian in dramatic form ; that in Eng-
lish a Shakspere might have attempted it with some hope of
success, but that no lesser dramatist could possibly succeed
even in a minor degree.

Mr. Irving found in the French playwright, M. Sarjdou, a
more complacent employee than the late Laureate. Even
Sardou, however, seems to have realized eventually his inca-
pacity for the difficult task and preferred to share his respon-
sibility with another. Hence the appearance of a second name,
that of M. Moreau, on the playbills as co-author of the present
dramatic version of Dante. We doubt if this name has been
heard outside of France before in relation to dramatic writing.

It seems curious at first that M. Sardou should admit as a
collaborator in so important a work, a comparatively unknown
playwright. It might have been thought that a play with
Dante for its subject represented the opportunity of a lifetime
for M. Sardou, and with the chance to have his work staged
by so distinguished an actor as Sir Henry Irving, would have
proved a source of inspiration sure to result in a really great
dramatic work.

If there is anything that the play of Dante as presented is
not, it is certainly not a great drama. It is not only false to
history and to personal characterization of the individuals
represented, but it is dramatically crude and ineffective; and its

I903]

S/R Henry Irving's Dante.

287

situations savor more of a Drury Lane melodrama than of even
an ordinarily successful modern play.

This is so true that many of the foreign critics, especially
the Germans, have refused to recognize in " Dante " the
experienced stage-craftsmanship of M. Sardou, and have insisted
on attributing the play entirely to his collaborator, the undis-
tinguished M. Moreau. This is undoubtedly the only possible
explanation for the inexpert dramatic farrago which has been
inflicted on the English and American theatre-going public.
Surely M. Sardou would never have permitted the drama as it
is to go before an intelligent French audience, and would never
have consented to the use of his name as one of its authors,
had the critical Judgment of it to come first from his French
compatriots. The play has been very well characterized as
" made »n France, but for export only," and every one knows
in what class goods of this kind must be placed.

There is a little book published in connection with the
Irving engagement, and sold in the theatre, in order to give a
better idea of the play and the characters introduced. Without
doubt it is one of the m'>st naive publications that the literary
public has had a chance to read in a good while. As this book
of the play is official, it is supposed to show what are the grounds
on which the dramatists selected certain features of Dante's
life as furnishing a basis for the stage story that they have
told. Messieurs Sardou and Moreau even provided the writer
of the little volume with an interview in order to explain their
position on many matters. There is no doubt that there was
need for the explanation.

Here is a passage from it : " There is more," said M.
Sardou, " of the soul than of the body of Dante in our drama.
We have personified in him a lover of liberty, a fierce hater of
persecution, of oppression, and of clerical domination. . . .
Our Dante is not the historical Dante ; it is the moral Dante."
We have taken him in his full grandeur as a symbol
of liberty. It was this conception of the hero that we offered
to Henry Irving. . , Politics pass away, accessories fade ;

what mDves us is the dominant idea of the poet, his attitude
of revolt against the injustice of men. In him, through the
mist of the Middle Ages, we see a modern light shining."

It is refreshing to find that even the French playwrights do
not consider their Dante the historical Dante. It is rather

S//i HENRY IRVING' S

)tc..

startling, however, for those who have seen the play, to be
told that it is the m:)ral Dante that is presented; had they
said the imniDral Dante they would have been much nearer
the truth.

Here is another naive passage from the book: "The central
episode of the drama is the love of Dante for Pia de' Tolomei.
We know, by the confession of Dante himself in various parts
of his works, that a year after the death of Beatrice he fell in
love* with a donna gentile (gentle lady), who had shown him
great sympathy at the time of his bereavement. We know,
too, by the poet's confession, and by the admission of all his
biographers, that this second love was not a mere boy's freak,
but a real and ardent love, which later on he was somewhat
ashamed of.

" Who this ' gentle lady ' — a friend of Beatrice who in
Purgatory reproaches Dante for his infidelity — may have been,
it is difficult to state, though some believe she was Gemma
D^nati, who afterwards became Dante's wife."

After thus confessing that the donna gentile of Dante may
very well have been his future wife, it must be considered, we
suppose, as typical of the French dramatists that they should
prefer to assume, contrary to all authority in the matter, that
he referred to another woman, and should then build up their
play on this assumption. No French play, of course, is success-
ful unless there is ** the other woman in the case," and in
recent years the moulds of French dramatic form have so
uniformly been constructed after this model, that it would be
useless to expect a drama cast on any other lines. This may
b: an excuse for th5 French playwrights, though it can scarcely
be considered as quite sufficient justification for Mr." Irving's
presentation of the play thus constructed to the English-
speaking public.

This donna gentile has been a stumbling-block to many
critics, but no authority on the details of Dante's life accepts
the interpretation of the passage, which for dramatic purpose
has b:en assumed to be the true one by MM. Sardou and
Moreau. Scartazzini, whose hand-book to Dante is one of the
most authoritative of modern publications on the great poet
(Davidson's translation, p, 55), says: "The 'gentle lady' with
whom Dante fell in love after the death of Beatrice is a real
cruK to interpreter and biographers, a crux all the more diffi-

1903]

S/j? Henry Irving' s Dante.

289

cult because all the ancient writers observe an absolute silence
with respect to this event in Dante's life, and because the two
accounts given by the poet in ' The New Life,' chapters xxxvi.-
xxxix., and in 'The Love Feast/ L i.-ii. 2, are not quite in
harmony with each other."

After showing that the two accounts are really not dis-
crepant, Scartazzini says : " Even Dante's second love was very
innocent, being confined to looks of piteous love on one side
and on the other to feelings of nascent sweet affection, at first
cultivated, then battled with and finally conquered. All the
more singular must seem the hardships and reproaches which
the poet makes to himself, and his fervent and most bitter
repentance. This only proves how fine and delicate were
Dante's views regarding sexual love."

As a matter of fact, there is very serious doubt whether
Dante really referred to love for a living woman or not, and it
is a question in the mind of many commentators whether his
words must not be taken as referring to the study of philosophy,
which he took up for many months after Beatrice's death as a
source of consolation, and, allowing himself to be carried farther
in his philosophical speculations than he intended or considered
to be good for him, expressed his remorse for his apparent
neglect of his loved one.

Thomas Davidson, who translates Scartazzini's hand-book,
accepts this explanation as the true one, and says that the
critics have all been ingeniously striving to loose a knot which
in reality does not exist. According to Davidson, the reason
why all ancient writers observe absolute silence respecting
Dante's second love is because there never was any such thing.
If words mean anything, then Dante tells us this in the clear-
est possible way. He says: "I declare and affirm that the
lady of whom I became enamoured was the most beautiful and'
virtuous daughter of the Emperor of the universe, to whom
Pythagoras gave the name of Philosophy" ("The Feast," ii.
16), Davidson adds : " How Dante came to look upon philoso-
phy as a piteous lady after reading Boethius on The Consolations
of Philosophy, is clear enough. He himself says : ' I, who was
seeking to console myself, found not only a remedy for my
tears but words of authors, of sciences and of books, and consider-
ing these I judge fairly that philosophy, the lady of these
authors, of these sciences, and of these books, was a supreme being,

290

S/H HENRY iRVm&S DANTE.

[Dec,

and I imagined her made of a gentle lady, and I could not
imagine her in any attitude save a piteous one : wherefore so
eagerly did my sense of truth admire her, that I could hardly
turn it away from her.* "

The principal critics who would connect the donna gentiU
of Dante with a real woman are agreed that the only one who
can be accepted for the part is Gemma Donati, the circum-
stances of whose life fulfil most of the conditions required for
the explanation of Dante's reference. With regard to this
subject Scartazzini explains very fully, yet briefly enough to be
quoted :

" Balbo and others after him have supposed that Gemma
Donati, subsequently the poet's wife, was the same as the
piteous consoler of 'The New Life.' This hypothesis is not
discountenanced by the story in ' The New Life ' ; for, if mar-
rying was no longer, in Dante's eyes, an infidelity to Beatrice,
nothing forbade him to marry the fair consoler, albeit at an
earlier period he had condemned his nascent love for her.
The hypothesis is farther strengthened by the fact that the
houses of the Alighieri and those of the Donati stood back to
back, and that the story in ' The New Life ' compels us to
admit that the house occupied by the fair consoler was in
close proximity to that irnhabited by the poet. At the same
time it is strange to think that Dante should have made his
own wife the symbol of Philosophy, a thing altogether con-
trary to the custom of the time. But, still, it is not impossi- I
ble that in this, as in so much else, Dante departed from the
usage of his age, and raised a literary monument to his own
wife. The fact that he conceals the name of the ' gentle lady,'
while he reveals that of Beatrice, tells rather for than against
the hypothesis."

Mr. MoncriefT O'Connor, in his letter to the Tablet, portions
of which have been already quoted, says : " It were useless to
follow the farrago of absurdities, as to history, with which this
travesty abounds, but we may remark, as evidence of the
execrable taste with which the thing has been done, that, not
content with inflicting Dante with a mistress, M. Sardou must
needs give her the name of an honorable lady, between whom
and Dante no breath of suspicion existed, and who in real life
was dead years before the action of this piece begins." She
is the lady who in the fifth canto of the Purgatorio, under

igo^'

Sin Henry Irving' s Dante.

291

the ^*^^me of La Pia, asks Dante to pray for her when he shall
jetuf*:^ to earth after his long journey.

^^lyond the meagre facts stated in the text, that she was a
vjvdo w who had remarried, there is nothing but conjecture.
tta^^tion says she was murdered by her second husband. The
\tv\ng book of the play says:

*'This gentle vision of a lady, invested with such melan-
choly pathos, in the few lines of Dante, — this gracious, mysteri-
ous figure tempted the imagination of artists in every age ;
painters have wrought pictures of her, novelists have written
romances, and an Italian musician has composed an opera on
the subject. Sardou and Moreau have now made her the
heroine of their drama. But, in the dearth of facts, all have
necessarily used their imaginations in weaving her story."

For the first time in history, however, the French drama-
tists have dared to breathe a word of scandal against this fair
sufferer, who in Purgatory is atoning for minor ofiFences, not
grave sins, of which in her regard there is indeed no hint any-
where else than here.

Perhaps the greatest insult in the play to the genius of
Dante and the spirit of his life and times — if possible, more
unpardonable even than the fact that Beatrice and La Pia
almost jostle one another more than once on the stage —
Beatrice, the Celestial, Pia, the Guilty Love — is the reason
given for Dante's journey through hell.

He is supposed to be told that he will never learn anything
of the illegitimate daughter whom he is seeking unless he
makes the journey to hell. Like Ulysses, then, going through
Hades in quest of information, Dante's trip through the nether
world is undertaken and carried out entirely for this purpose.
Of course it is supremely belittling to the lofty purpose of
the " Divine Comedy," and utterly subversive of the influen-
tial position the poem has held as the sublime, poetic exposi-
tion of moral advancement through the conquering of evil;
but even this ludicrous satire of the facts of the case does not
give the French playwrights pause. It was necessary that
their drama to be effective should contain scenes from the
Inferno. With French adhesion to dramatic rules, these must
be introduced in organic unity with the plot of the play ; hence
if the true purpose of a great literary treasure must be per-

292 Sm Henry irvin&s Dante. [Dec,

verted, it is only another necessary sacrifice to successful melo-
drama ; and who shall say them nay ?

There is another phase of the drama of "Dante," as pre-
sented by Mr. Irving, which we cannot but deprecate, espe-
cially here in America, since there are features of the play-
that will undoubtedly appeal to old-time prejudices against the
Catholic Church, and will appear to many people as a con-
firmation of historic traditions with regard to the Church and
the Prereformation period, that have long since been blotted
from the pages of actual history.

All during the play Dante is made to appear as constantly
in opposition to the church authorities, and any one who
did not know the actual details of his life could not possibly
help but conclude that his life had been mainly devoted to
active recalcitrancy to the teachings and authority of that
body.

Time was when such a misrepresentation appeared justified
because of false traditions with regard to the position occupied
by Dante in the life and thought of his times. In recent
years, however, it has come to be recognized that far from
being a heretic, Dante was a most faithful son W the Catholic
Church, and that his works breathe her spirit and her teach*
ings better than those of any other great writer. A modern
Roman theologian is even bold enough to say that were all
the libraries in the world destroyed and the Holy Scriptures
with them, the whole Catholic system of doctrine and morals
might be reconstructed from the "Divine Comedy." A num-
ber of popes, among them Paul III., Pius IV., Clement XII.,
and Pius VII., have accepted the dedication of editions of the
" Divine Comedy." Nearly half a century ago PiuS IX. sent
a wreath to be placed upon Dante's tomb at Ravenna. The
late Holy Father, Pope Leo XIII., was not only a great
admirer of Dante, but took special pains to proclaim on many
occasions his favoritism towards this greatest of Italian poets.
He occupied a place in the heart of that great pontiflf close
to that of St. Thomas Aquinas, of whose philosophy and
theology Dante's immortal poem has well been called the sub-
lime poetic expression. For those who know how great was
Leo XIII.'s reverence for St. Thomas this will serve as evi-
dence enough of his feeling towards Dante.

In beginning his Second Series of Studies in Dante, Mr.

I903-]

Sir Henry Irving's Dante.

293

Edward Moore, D.D., principal of St. Edmund Hall, Oxford,
and lecturer on Dante at the Taylor Institution, said with
regard to Dante as a religious teacher, especially in relation
to Catholic doctrine :

"The object of this essay is, mainly, twofold. First, to
point out the extraordinary variety of men and minds that
nowadays recognize in Dante a religious or moral teacher, and
to contrast this phenomenon with the equally extraordinary
incapacity to appreciate him prevalent in the last century, and
even later. Secondly (and chiefly), to vindicate his theological
pojjtion as a sincere and orthodox Catholic. This is a sub-
ject on which the most erroneous views have prevailed, owing
to the omission to note the vital distinction between denounc-
I'iig abuses in discipline or practice, and impugning error of
doctrine."

He adds further: "Probably no pre-eminently great writer
has ever been the subject of such utterly diverse judgments as
Dante, and this from the literary and artistic, no less than
from the theological side."

The whole spirit of the play breathes .the old tradition that
made Dante one of the so-called Prereformation reformers.
With regard to this false notion, the late Mr. John M. Mooney,
in writing his preface to the English translation of Ozanam's
Dante and Catholic Philosophy, published by the Cathedral
Library Association, New York, 1897, some seven years ago,
said :

"The Protestant tradition that the most illustrious of
Catholic poets was a foe to the Papacy is still alive, and
though many non-Catholics are led to study the trilogy
because of Dante's glorious imagination ; strange philosophical
and theological science; forcible, compact, unique style; pas-
sionate expression of sentiment and of creed ; there are few
who are not prejudiced in his favor, especially, and one might
say invincibly, because, more or less justly, he attacked eccle-
siastics of the Roman Catholic Church, and, more or less con-
siderately, censured evils that afflicted the church in his day.
Only a Catholic can duly estimate the value of Dante's cen-
sures, which, however violent, impugn in nowise the doctrine
or the divine organization of the church; as only a Catholic
can, with full intelligence and perfect sympathy, comprehend
the philosophical views and theological tenets of the medita-

294

S/R Henry Irving" s Dante.

[Deci

live religious poet, who towers above all others in solitary
grandeur."

Those who may still have any lingering doubts with regard
to the possible heretical tendencies of Dante will do well to
read Father Henry Sebastian Bowden's editorial preface to the
Commentary of the distinguished German critic, Franz Het-
tinger, on Dinte's *' DIvina Commedia," its scope and value, as
tmnslAted for English readers. Father Bowden points out thaS
while Dante's teaching as regards the Empire was radically
uaaound. and that consequently his book, De Monarchia, was
|>l«c«<i on the Index as dangerous, this by no means implies a
CtOMiro of the man himself. Dante's political teaching, if car-
rit<l out to its fullest extent, would have proved subversive of
ihc thou existing political conditions in Italy, and so, for the
*tk« i>l civil order, had to be condemned. m

On the other hand, it is an indication of the tolerance of
lh« Cthurch that, notwithstanding the fact of Dante's very free
6fUl<l«nu)ation of several popes, whose lives by no means justi-
rtod the poet's bitterness and whose sentences are due not to
uo«tic justice but political prejudice, no condemnation of the
'Miivina Commedia" was ever issued. Father Bowden calls
aUontlon to the Index of Prohibited Works published by act of
PAfliament in England with reference to books which, because^
they rertected on the character of the reigning sovereign, or on
iheir conduct with regard to religion, it was made high treason
to possess. This index has been in existence since the Refor-
mition. The Roman Curia might well have acted in the same
WAy in the supposedly intolerant fourteenth century with regard
to Dante's " Divina Commedia" without being liable to any
mire criticism than the English government, but as a matter
of fact the popes always thought too much of Dante's great
poem thus to condemn it. Father Bowden concludes ; " Thc_,
Holy See's treatment of the poet is that of a wise and gener-^
ous parent who will not allow the strong passions in the erring
child to influence her recognition and approval of his truer and
better nature, and thus as the * Divina Commedia,' notwith-
standing serious blots, remains substantially a magnificent expo-
sition of the Catholic Faith, it has been studied and extolled
by theologians and poets."

The highest ecclesiastical authority in England put himself
on record in no unmistakable terms as regards Dante's attitude

I903-]

Sin Hexry IrvinCs Dante.

295

towards the Catholic Church in a letter to Father Bowden
commending him for this translation of Hettinger's Commen-
tary. Catholics who may still be timorous in their judgment
or in the expression of their opinions with regard to the sup-
posed heretical tendencies 01 Dante may well accept the late
Cardinal Manning's official approval as competent authority in
this matter. Few happier tributes have ever been penned to
the genius of Dante, as well as to his essential Catholicity,
than this brief letter of the late Cardinal-Archbishop of West-
minster:

"You have conferred a true benefit upon us by publishing
Dr. Hettinger's work on Dante. It will be not only a signal
help to readers of the ' Divina Commedia,* but it will, I hope,
awaken Catholics to a sense of the not inculpable neglect of
the greatest of poets, who by every title of genius, and by
the intensity of his whole heart and soul, is the master-poet of
the Catholic Faith. Excepting Ozanam's beautiful Dante et la
Philosophie Chretienne — for I can hardly refer to Rosetti's edi-
tion — I know of no Catholic who has in our time made a trans-
lation or a comment on Dante. It has fallen to non-Catholic
hands to honor his name. Perhaps it may be because of cer-
tain burning words against the human and secular scandals in
the medieval world. Bellarmine has long ago cleared away
those aspersions from the Catholic loyalty of Dante.

"There are three books which always seem to me to form

^ triad of Dogma, of Poetry, and of Devotion, — the Summa of

^t' Thomas, the ' Divina Commedia,' and the ' Paradisus

^lirnae.' All three contain the same outline of Faith. St.

Thomas traces it on the intellect, Dante upon the imagination,

*ici the ' Paradisus Animae * upon the heart. The poem unites

^"s book of Dogma and the book of Devotion, and is in itself

oot^i Dogma and Devotion clothed in conceptions of intensity

^^^ of beauty which have never been surpassed or equalled.

"^ uninspired hand has ever written thoughts so high in words

*° burning and so resplendent as the last stanzas of the

^*jvina Commedia.' It was said of St. Thomas, 'Post Sunimam

^"*^»nje nihil restat nisi lumen gloriae,' — After the Sumnia of

Tk . & '

A no mas nothing remains except the light of glory. It may be

sai<i of Dante, Post Dantis paradtsum nihil restat nisi vislo

*-'**» — After the Paradiso of Dante nothing remains except the

vision of God."

^ANTE.

[Dec,

All this is, of course, very far from the picture of Dante
a rebel against the church and a Prereformation reformer,
which Sir Henry Irving's Dante will surely lead those ignorant
bf the truth in the matter to assume as the only true expression
of Dante's position in religious matters. The traditions that
used to support any such false notions have long been discredited,
but, like many other lies of history, they still crop up, ever
requiring new refutation. Perhaps the present exaggeratedly
erroneous version of Dante's politico-religious career and his
relations to the church, with the utter misrepresentation of his
real principles which it involves, may really prove of service to
the cause of trttth. in the midst of the present renewed interest
in Dante, by oiIHog public attention forcibly to the recent
lifefAtttie with regard to this subject, and so bring about a
tfAtttOik ol proper information in these regards.

la tibe meantime we think that the literary and dramatic
WOfId OMiftOt but regret the fact that so great an actor as Sir
Humy Irring should risk a serious blot on his career by
pCMtntillC ^ P^'^X ^° ^^^^ to the truth of history. Sir Henry
eftAttOt plead, as so many other actors might, his lack of respon-
tibililv iu the matter, and it is evident that his desire to be at
(tail the physical ideal of Dante for this generation, has led
\^ iutc what is a serious error of judgment, if not an unpar-
^iMAb)* («uU of taste and an unworthy display of the lack of
ttimmatic instinct.

Blow, mountain winds, your bugles blow,
And wake the forest with your glee ;
Flow, mountain floods, in thunder flow
And roar, and roll triumphantly :
I love your music wild and strong
Better than any puling song I

Blow, breeze of morning, o'er the hills,
And breathe of balsam, fir, and pine :

Rush down into the dales, O rills 1

Through bells of shadow, bands of shine ;
And lift your voices grand and free
In Nature's mighty symphony !

Sing out, sing strong your thunder*song,
And shake the mountains with your mirth ;

Shout out, and let the rocks prolong
The grandest music heard on earth,
The deep, majestic organ-voice
That makes my gloomy soul rejoice !

Lift up your heads, granite hills !

Where Freedom made her dwelling-place.
There, to the music of your rills,

She nursed a bold and hardy race:

Their swaddling clothes the thunder-cloud,

Their lullaby the tempest loud.

Ten thousand years of sun and storm
Have swept o'er ye with scarce a trace

To mark or mar your stately form.
Or seam with scars your rugged face ;
Pillars of time, sublime ye stand,
Stone-records carved by Nature's hand

298 In the white Mountains. [Dec,

Blow, winds of morning, loudly blow,

And tell to me what here befell
Ages and ages long ago,

When earth, upheaved by fires of hell,

Her tons of granite hurled in air

And reared those mighty altars there !

What awful warfare waged on earth
When fire and flood and storm combined

To rive and twist with demon-mirth,
And build those marvels of mankind !
What fearful hurricane of wrath
Scattered those boulders in his path ?

Truly this ground is hallowed ground.

The battle-field of Titans vast :
The wreck of worlds is scattered round,

And ruin o'er the country cast :

Here in this wild and grand purlieu

Earth met a fearful Waterloo.

Blow, mountain winds, your bugles blow !

There's battle music in your blast :
Flow, mountain floods, in thunder flow

Over the rough rock hurrying fast ! .

I love your music loud and strong,

Sonorous as a battle-song !

Better a life among these hills.

These woods of hemlock, spruce, and pine,
Than life among the Southern rills,

Where through the palms the sunbeams shine :

The South is sweet; but give to me

The North with all its energy !

Julian Johnstone.

1903]

Frederic Ozanam.

FREDERIC OZANAM.

BY REV. HENRY A. BRANN. D.D.

6T is just ninety years since Napoleon the Great,
after imprisoning the Pope, was scourged by
divine vengeance in the disastrous retreat from
Moscow, and crushed in the battle of Leipsig in
1813. It was on April 13 of that year that
Frederic Ozanam, the second of fourteen children, was born,
at Milan. He was the son of a voluntary French exile who
had been a soldier, a professor of French, and finally had be-
come a physician. The Ozanam family, although for centuries
settled in France, near Lyons, were of Hebrew origin — of that
wonderful race which has given to the world the greatest
poets, the greatest lawgivers, and the most illustrious charac-
ters in history. It was at Lyons that young Frederic began
his studies. He showed ability, and wrote philosophical essays
and good verses even in his early years. But unfortunately,
like too many young Frenchmen of that time and since, influ-
enced by infidel traditions and by the infidel teachings of many
of the professors in the state schools and colleges, he lost his
faith, so that like the contemporary philosopher, Jouffroy, he
seemed at one time, as he tells us, to doubt " even his own
existence." But at this crisis in his life Providence sent him a
counsellor and friend in the Abbe Noirot, an adept in guiding
young men through the tangled wood of passion and incredul-
ity to the open glades of virtue and religion. Frederic was
the youngest of the able abbe's one hundred and thirty pupils,
but soon shone at the head of them alt ; " an elect soul," as
the venerable priest, who lived long after his favorite pupil's
death, loved to call him.

In France, once the model Catholic nation, a despotic and
immoral dynasty, a selfish and infidel aristocracy, and a clergy
corrupted by secular intrusion into the sanctuary and by
simoniacal practices, had dragged throne and altar into the
mire. False systems in religion and in politics were every-
where rampant. In 1830 particularly the St.-Simonians became
▼ou Lxxvin. — 20

300

Frederic Ozanam.

[Dec,

a very numerous and noisy sect of social reformers. The
policy and the teaching of the founder of this sect were to
build a religion of the future on the ruins of Christianity. His
disciples, Enfantin and Bazard, developed his socialistic theories
and won over to their ideas many talented Frenchmen.

Ozanam, then only seventeen years old, entered the lists
against them, and in 1S31 composed a refutation of their theories
in a treatise which won the admiration and the praise of Laroar-
tine The condition of society at that time in France was
deplorabie, owing to the frequent revolutions which destroyed
public order and filled the country with dreamers and sophists
who, having rejected the safe, logical, and divine teachings of
Christ, were tossed about by every wind of doctrine. Atheism
reigned supreme in schools and colleges. Materialism swayed
the masses, and Utopias in politics and religion were nightly
dreamed and daily preached by the visionaries who undertook
to lead the people. In the law school of Paris, when Ozanam
entered it in 1 83 1, he found only three Christians among his
fellow- students. The rest were rationalists, atheists, or St.-
Simonians.

Ozanam tells us that he was the only one in his boarding-
house who kept the law of abstinence on Friday. But he
soon found a more congenial place of residence in the home of
the celebrated mathematician, Andre Marie Ampere, a good
Catholic, who afterwards became Frederic's father-in-law and
faithful friend. Ampere was one of the few able men of his
day who in France agreed with the saying of the philosopher,
Jouflfroy, who, after years of scepticism, pubficly confessed
before his death " that all the systems put together are not
worth one page of the catechism."

Frederic, surrounded on all sides by enemies of his faith,
bravely defended its doctrinal and its moral principles from
constant attack. But he felt that words were not the most
efficacious weapons to use in defence of truth. Deeds are better.
The St.-Simonians pointed particularly to the condition
of the laboring classes and of the very poor, and taunted the
Catholics with indifference to their wehfare. The Revolution of
1789, the despotism of Napoleon, and the Voltairianism of the
Bourbon restoration had effaced from men's minds the memory
of the beneficent monasteries and of the countless charities of
the church in the ages of faith, when her wealth was shared

1903.]

FREDERIC OZANAM.

301

I
I

with the sick and the needy, " Show us your good works
done for the poor!" cried the new quack doctors of poverty.
Under the stimulus of this taunt the young law student, Oza-
nam, and two friends, Lallier and La Mache, determined to
organize a society under the patronage of St. Vincent de Paul,
to visit and assist the poor. They were aided by Mr. Bailly,
the very worthy proprietor of a small newspaper, ihe Catholic
Tribune, which became their organ, " Most of you," said
Bailly to Ozanam and a group of his young friends, "are
studying to be lawyers, some to be doctors ; go help ihe
poor, each in your special line; let your studies be of use to
ottiers as well as to yourselves ; it is a good and easy way
of com.nencing your apostolate as Christians in the world,"
But they had little experience until they made the acquaint-
ance of good Sister Rosalie, a name held in benediction to
this day even among the infidels of France for her devotion
to the poor. She supplied work enough for these young gen-
tlemen determined to be Christians in act as well as in word-
It was at the very beginning of this apostolate to relieve the
poor that O/anam wrote to a friend the letter in which he
used a phrase that characterized his whole life: "For some
time past — above all, since I have seen some very young men
laid low by death — life has worn a different aspect to me.
Although I gave up the practice of my religion, the idea of
the other world had not sunk deeply enough into my heart,
and I only began now to realize that I had not hitherto been
mindful enough of two companions who are always walking by
our side, even when we do not notice them — God and death."
The motive of Ozanam and his companions in founding the
St. Vincent de Paul Society was derived from Christian faith
and from Christian charity. There was nothing of mere
huraanitarianism or of mere natural philanthropy in their work.
It was prompted by higher considerations and by nobler ideals.
They loved the poor because they loved Jesus Christ.

" Charity," wrote Ozanam, "should never look back but always
forward, for the number of her past benefits is always very small,
while the present and future wants that she has to relieve are
infinite. Look at the philanthropical societies with their meet-
ings, reports, summings-up, bills and accounts ; before they
are a year old they have volumes of minutes. Philanthropy is
a vain woman who likes to deck herself out in her good works

3oa

Frederic Ozanam.

[Dec,

and admire herself in a glass ; whereas charity is a mother
whose eyes rest lovingly on the child at her breast, who has
no thought of self, but forgets her beauty in her love." There
was no flattering of the poor, no stimulating of their natural
envy and of their hostility to the rich, no weakening of the
respect for the rights of property, in the beneficent work of
the St. Vincent de Paul societies which soon began to spread
from Paris all over the world.

Oiaavn was a sound philosopher and a safe theologian as
well as a good Christian, and consequently he was not misled
by socialistic theories in his work. He knew that the real
sohitiott ol tbe problem of poverty and of the questions disputed
DillMSia capital and labor is found only in the gospel of Christ.
la hissttttly of Daate and of Dante's master tn theology, Thomas
AquUMX ^ke founder of the St. Vincent de Paul Society learned
tl^watftcc; the qualities, and the effects of the virtues of justice
asd oC dtari^o From Thomas Aquinas, speaking for all the
■MMt phttoa^>li*rs, theologians, and statesmen of the world, he
liaJtearaad that the right to private property, founded in the
aataral law. sanctioned by the universal custom and law of
aattiMM atwi t»)r the canon law of the church, should be sacred-
ly ttipacttrt : that respect for this right stimulates private
actively ttAil public industry ; preserves public order ; for, this
tigltl btinf intact, each man knows his place and his limita-
l^^m This right promotes public peace by guaranteeing each
M% ia tht possession of what he has lawfully acquired. De-
(«ttvttlii|t this right stands justice with a drawn sword, preserv-
^)|wr prv^ntrty from the thief and the unjust aggressor, whether
H* \lff ths name of the state or his own in the attempt to
U««^H'k|| iknd to plunder. But all rights are limited. The right
\s\ |^rOi»»rty U not absolute. It is limited by God, by death,
tti\d by tho neceuitics of our fellow-men. The only absolute
^twust in the universe is God, for he alone is the Creator.
**Ths tiirtH il the Lord's and the fulness thereof"; and the
I (Msi K*'^^* ^^ every individual of the human species the right
\\.\ llva, Aiut imposes on all men the obligation of helping their
uwl^hbiM \\\ distress or affliction.

I'ht grtAt lnw of charity, as laid down by Christ, is as

^ il («« jutdce, and qualifies all human rights. While owning

u.,,.. ;i>, to uto it for the benefit of others, to let others share
il« t^* ^^^ ^^ ^^* P^^'' ^^^^ ^' ^^^ necessary for ourselves, and

J903.]

Frederic Ozanam.

303

if we wish to be perfect to " go sell all we have and give to
the poor," is the teaching of sane reason and the counsel of
Christ. In him the rich find the Divine Model of disinterested-
ness, generosity, and unselfishness. In His Name, St. Paul tells
Timothy, "Charge the rich of this world not to be high-minded
nor to hope in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who giveth
us abundantly all things to enjoy. To do good, to be rich in
good works, to distribute readily, to communicate" (I. Tim. vi.
17). Christ's love of poverty is the model for rich and for poor;
a love so great that, as Dante says, he preferred poverty to his
mother, for he left her at the foot of the cross, while he carried
poverty up to the cross with him.

The growth of the Conferences of St. Vincent de Paul was
rapid, In 1833 there were only nine of them; in 1845 they
had increased to nine thousand, six of which were in London.
Ozanam intensely realized the importance of their work. The
social question of class distinctions and of poverty for him
was the great question. " It is a social question," he wrote in
1848; "do away with misery^ Christianize the people, and you
will make an end of revolutions." " It is the struggle of those
who have nothing with those who have too much." "If it be
the struggle of those who have nothing with those who have
too much, if it be the violent shock of opulence and poverty
which is miking the ground tremble under our feet, our duty,
as Christians, is to throw ourselves between these irreconcila-
ble enemies, and to induce one side to give, in order to fulfil
the law. and the other to receive as a benefit ; to make one
iide cease to exact and the other cease to refuse; to render
equality as general as it is possible amongst men." He never
<:eased during his life to occupy himself specially with the
'•blinding and organizing of new Conferences of St. Vincent de
Paul.

Still, the foundation of these conferences for the spiritual
*id temporal relief of the poor was only an incident in the
''fc of Ozanam. His chief claim to honor and fame is in his
S''eat literary talent, his numerous historical works, and his
fidelity, from first to last, in an age and circle of infidelity, to
the doctrines and practices of the Catholic Church.

He became a professor in the University of the Sorbonne
in 1840, when he was only twenty-seven years old, and he
bad for contemporaries men like Cousin, Guizot, and Villcmain,

304 FREDERIC OZANAM. [Dec,

who disagreed with him in religion, yet honored him for his
genius and for his virtues. Among Catholics he could always
count on the aid and sympathy of Montalembert, the eloquent
and invincible lay champion of Catholic principles, and on
Lacordaire, the greatest and the m3st influential preacher in
France in the last century. For fifty years no practical Catho-
lic had taught in the Sorbonne ; while the voices of rationalists
and of Voltairians had rung through the balls of the once
famous Catholic university, denouncing the Catholic Church,
and misrepresenting her creed and her action in history and in
philosophy. Cousin had taught pantheism, and Villemain had
calumniated the church with the applause of crowds of listening
students.

But now Ozanam entered the field. The crowd was
against him. The students had been corrupted by infidel
fathers at home, or by infidel teachers in the primary schools.
It required great tact and great courage to stand up against
self-interest and popular prejudice. Yet the young professor
was not found wanting. He was gentle, but he made no com-
promise ; he was calm, but he made no concessions. He knew
the truth, he had studied well his subjects; he had facility,
eloquence, magnetism, genius ; and the infidels were dumb,
while the Catholics applauded, for he spoke with the eloquence
of conviction and of truth. Lacordaire eloquently describes his
influence in these words : " Athens listened as she would have
listened to Gregory or Basil, if, instead of returning to the
solitudes of their native land, they had poured out at the foot
of the Areopagus, where St. Paul was preaching, those treasures
of science and taste which were to illustrate their names."
Ozanam had qualified himself as lecturer in law, in literature,
and in history, by studying all the languages and all the
literatures of modern Europe. He had sought out in Germany,
France, and Italy the original sources and documents ; con-
sequently the information imparted by him was reliable. He
was not like the ordinary writer of modern history, with whom
we are too familiar, who takes his information at second hand
from some prejudiced and biased source. Ozanam's statements
and opinions were not discolored by prejudice or bigotry. He
sifted both sides, wherever the statements were conflicting, and
never drew a conclusion which was not warranted by the
premises. Hence men whose prejudices made them averse to

1903]

FREDERIC OZANAM.

305

his teaching were unable to withhold admiration for his ability,

his honesty, and his impartiality. He loved the church so

much that he hated whatever tended to disgrace or tarnish

her fame. This was shown even in minor matters. For instance,

be had no mercy, as an examiner, on clerical students who

failed in their examinations. Once a seminarist, who had failed

to pass them, called on him for an explanation. The professor

at first mildly pointed out the mistakes of his student, and

then with great severity said to him: "Your very dress, sir,

compels me to be more exacting. When one has the honor to

wear the livery of the priesthood, one should not lightly

expose it to a similar disgrace." He knew that one of the

grea.test enemies of the church is ignorance, and especially

igaorance among the clergy; and he remembered the words of

the prophet: "For the lips of the priest shall keep knowledge,

aad they shall seek the law at his mouth ; for he is the angel

of t he Lord of hosts " (Malachias ii. 7). Schism and heresy can

exijst and flourish among the masses of the people only when

they are ignorant of the truth, and led by ignorant, cowardly,

or xinfaithful guides.

Dven when engaged in the arduous work of a professor,
*°<i in the midst of most serious studies, Oaanam never forgot
ths poor. After his morning lecture at the Sorbonne he often
sp^ nt his evenings in lecturing in the basement of the Church
^^ St, Sulpice to assemblies of laboring men. He took a deep
i°*^^rest in this work, and prepared himself as carefully for it
** €'or the audience of cultured young men who listened to him
»** "^he university. " Let us see what Christianity has done for
tb^ workingman," said he in one of his St. Sulpice lectures.
" ^"ree labor has no greater enemy than slavery ; consequently,
th-^ pigans, who held to slavery, trampled free labor under
loot They spurned it, and stigmatized it with the most
o^cnsive names. Even Cicero, that great and wise man whom
we are so fond of quoting. — Cicero says that there is nothing
\iberal in manual tabor; that trade, if it be small, is to be con-
sidered sordid ; but if vast and opulent, need not be severely
blamed {De Officiis i. i. c. 42)." He then quoted the law of the
Twelve Tables, according to which the debtor, who was not
able to pay, could be sold by the creditor, or could be cut up
into as many pieces as thete were creditors, so that each might
have a piece of him. At a later period in Roman history,

3o6

FRED ERIC OZANAAf.

instead of cutting up the debtor, his creditors compelled hira
t5 ssU his children; and even up to the reign of Constantine
the children of debtors were sold in the public market place.
Often he would quote for his uneducated hearers the beautiful
poem of St Francis of Assisi to my "Lady Poverty." How
beautiful it is!

•• Lord, have Thou pity upon me, and upon my Lady

Poverty- Behold her seated on a dunghill ; she, who is the

queen of virtues, complains because her friends have spurned

her and have become her enemies. Remember, Lord, that

Thou didst come down from the abode of the angels in order

^ taWe her for Thy spouse, and to make her the mother of a

jj^^^^ cnaltitude of sons who should be perfect. It was she

who received Thee in the stable and in the manger, and who,

keeping company with Thee all through life, took care that

Thou h»dst not whereon to lay Thy head. When Thou didst

w^2to tb® ^^^ ^' ^^^ redemption. Poverty attached herself to

Ttl^tt tt^ * faithful squire. She stood by Thy side during the

eoco^^ * ^* ^^^ ^^^ forsake Thee when Thy disciples fled. fl

** When at last Thy mother, who followed Thee to the end,
aov.) look her share of all Thy sorrows ; when even Thy
m xhor covtd fto longer reach to Thee because of the height of I
tj^ cross, my Ltdy Poverty embraced Thee more closely than
*V«r« Stl« would not have Thy cross carefully finished, nor
th« naUs in sufficient number, and pointed, and smooth ; but
l»r*l>at«*l only three, which she made blunt and rough, that
ih»v mijfht better serve the purpose of Thy torture. Whilst
'll^v^u w«tt dying of thirst, she refused Thee a Itttle water, so
ih** rh0U dui»l expire clasped in the embrace of this Thy
su0tai«> OK J who then would not love my Lady Poverty
A^ovf «H things^"

0«4tUiU \\\ hi» beautiful work on the Franciscan Poets
Wf\\\a% \\\\\ siroujjly the love of poverty which characterized
ihal |ifrl»tft (oMower of Christ, St. Francis of Assisi; and
, , \s w«« M^ways fond of offering him as a model to the
i'U««f>a Mud to the rich, for the life and example of
y\y\% \\\\\\%^\\\\\ Century saint, if imitated by Christians, would
lt*V» <^'» W\«rld <>©«• from conflicts between capital and labor.
VUi^HlkHt taw th»»o conflicts in the streets of Paris in 1848.
'VH*f^ i* HO mor« interesting scene in his life than the
v)w«0« v»l Mttu»i»l^tnfur Affre, the Archbishop of Paris, in the

1903.]

Frederic Ozanam.

307

revolutiott of that blood-stained year. The streets of Paris
were deluged with blood. All the evil elements of that turbu-
lent capital had risen in insurrection, had formed barricades,
aod were defying and holding in check the regular army which
defended the government. On Sunday, June 25, Ozanam, with
^wo other friends who were on duty as national guards, thought
it would be a good plan to get the archbishop to come to the
barricades and intervene as a peacemaker between the two
'actions. The brave prelate acceded at once to their request
3nd went with them towards the Faubourg St. Antoine, then
f'lc worst quarter of Paris, where the rebels held absolute
5«^ay. The people saluted the archbishop in the streets, ap-
P'auded him as he passed, and many knelt for his blessing.
^^r the Frenchman, no matter what may be his defects, loves
courage, a virtue never lacking in the sons of Gaul. General
Cavaignac, in command of the regular forces, warned the arch-
bishop that his life would be in danger if he went to the bar-
T'ca-des. The insurgents behind them had already made a
P'"isoner of General Brea, although he carried a flag of truce.
"»^ t to every remonstrance the archbishop answered, " I am
&c>ing," He was cool and determined to the end. He would
*'ic3w no one to accompany him or share the danger, but
''* pleated as he went along, "The good shepherd giveth his life
'°*" his flock." He climbed up the nearest barricade in the
"* "^cc de la Bastile, holding up the branch of a tree to which
^ Ai^hite handkerchief had been attached, as a flag of truce and
^ ^^ign of pardon, when suddenly a shot, from a window over
' ^^ head, struck him and he fell back, exclaiming as he died,
^^*Iay my blood be the last shed 1 " The news of the death
*■ * ^d Ozanam with remorse, for it was he and his friends who
^^^ "^ suggested the archbishop's intervention. But his blood
^*~-*- -inched the fires of the insurrection, which was really a civil
■^^^r, the most dangerous of all wars, as we know by our own
^^ '^d experience.

Ozanam continued his arduous studies and labors in the
S ,

^rbonne until 1852, when a fatal illness, which had been
— stroying his health for some time, compelled him to retire
' Eaux-Bonnes, in the south of France. There he stayed for
*me time, and then travelled through Spain. It was on this
ip that he wrote these beautiful words; "In this land, where
'^^ an has done little, I see only the works of God, and I now

FREDERIC OZAi

[D^

ec,

My, with all the might of my faith, that God is not only the
gr«At Geometer, the great Legislator, He is also the great, the
Supreme Artist. He is the Author of all poetry. He has
poured it over creation in floods, and if He wished the world
to be good, He also meant it to be beautiful."

The evidence of this Christian faith and Christian spirit
runs through all his works; and on this account the pleasant-
filt task of one who undertakes to study his life is the peru-
lal of his writings, as well on account of the learning which
they manifest as of their polished style. An admirer of Dante,
Otanam's Dantt and Catholic Philosophy is a master work on I
the subject. St. Francis and the Franciscan Poets is a gem of
literary beauty. Civilization of the Fifth Century and German
Studies are the works of an erudite, conscientious, and im-
partial historian, who writes in the most elegant and classic
French. The matter as well as the form of his writings is per-
fect ; for he was a painstaking, hard-working scholar, who had
the virtue of application as well as the gift of genius. The
second part of the German Studies is devoted to Civilization
umong the Franks. In this work there is one especially inter-
esting chapter on the labors of the Irish missionaries of the
sixth century. Ozanam loved the land, the race, and the ■
character of those wonderful Western Celts, who may be said
to have reconverted Europe after the barbarian invasion and
the destruction of the Roman Empire. The heart of one whose
blood, lineage, and faith are derived from the same Celtic
source as these apostles derived theirs, cannot read their fas-
cinating story in the beautiful pages of Ozanam without palpi-
tating with love for the noble and Christian Frenchman who
made the faithful record of their labors, their sufferings, and
their glory.

In his luminous book we follow these Irish missionaries
across the Irish Sea to England and to Scotland ; we see
them build schools and religious houses for the education of
the Caledonians and the Saxons. Then we follow them across
the Channel, up the Rhine to South Germany, into France,
into Switzerland, up the Alps, over them to Southern Italy; J
marking their way by institutions of learning at Malmedy,
L'ixeuil, and Stavelo, at St. Gall, and at Bobbio ; braving the
wrath of the vicious and the ignorant, half-savage Teuton and
Frank, and giving patron saints like St. Kilian to Wiirzburg,

FREDERIC OZANAM.

309

St. Virgilius to Salzburg, St. Cataldus to Tarentum, St. Fiacre
and others to France, and St. Gall to the canton named after
faJm in Switzerland. No more interesting episode can be found
in the writings of Ozanam than the story of the missionary
/abors in Gaul of the learned and indomitable Irishman, St.
Coliimbanus, the spiritual father of many monasteries and con-
vents, and the fearlesi missionary in face of corrupt kings and
queens, and of a degraded people.

At last Ozanam, hopelessly sick, settled down in Italy.

Ttiere his interest in the St. Vincent de Paul Society con-

tirtued. He had found on his way to the little town of

Arxtignano, near Leghorn, conferences estabJished at Nice, at

G^noa, at Pisa, at Leghorn, at Florence, and at Porto Ferrajo.

^i^is consoled him in his last days at Antignano, which he

'cf"t in a dying condition, to return to France. He died a

niost edifying death, after receiving all the sacraments of the

<^t*-<jrch, at Marseilles in 1853. at the age of forty, on the 8th

of September, the feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin;

*r^ <d his last words were, " My God, my God, have mercy on

m^!" His whole character as a man and as a Christian is

^'•-own in the opening sentences of his last will and testament,

n*^^fc-tie a few weeks before his death: "In the Name of the

*^'^».ther, of the S>n, and of the Holy Ghost: I commit my

^^^^ vjI to Jesus Christ, my Saviour; with fear because of my

^' *~^s, but confiding in His infinite mercy; I die in the bosom

^^ the Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman Church. I have known

**^ ^ doubts of the present age ; but all my life has convinced

"^^ ^ that there is no rest for the mind and the heart except

•'^^ the faith of that church and under her authority. If I

*^^ "•ach any value to my long studies, it is because they give

'*^'* ^ the right to entreat those I love to remain faithful to a

'^* — - ligion in which I found light and peace."

1903]

In the Footsteps of Wordsworth.

311

of Wordsworth " through the Lakelands of Cumberland and
Westmoreland that you fully realize what a share lake and
river, mountain and mead, fell and force, scaur and scar, and
the gentle whisperings of the lonely daffodils by the shores of
Grastnere Lake had in moulding the spirit of the great High-
Priest of Nature.

The relation between the poet and his time is a peculiar
one. Chaucer was cradled by camp and court. Pope never
loDJced at the heavens; and if he did, he saw no starry dome.
His poetry is full of literary ruffles and periwigs, and the false
philosophy of Bolingbroke. Yet Alexander Pope is, to a great
extent, the product of his times.

William Wordsworth followed Thomson and Cowper, and
led the heart of man back in pilgrimage to the shrine of
Nature, whose altar lamp had burned unheeded during the
reign — the dark night — of the Correct School of Poets.

The philosophy of this great poet's life was "plain living
and high thinking." From Cockermouth, where the poet was
bom on April 7, 1770, to Hawkshead Grammar School, with
an interval at college ; and from Grasmere to Rydal Mount —
this is the world of Wordsworth. He lived among the dales-
men w*hose simplicity, integrity, and strength form the subject
of many of his finest poems.

I shall never forget how reverently I approached the grave
of the poet in the little cemetery of Grasmere on my visit to
the Lake region of England, a few months ago.

It was a glorious morning in June, and a June morning in
England is especially charming. I had arrived at the quaint
Uttle village of Grasmere the evening before, and my first pil-
grimage the following morning, at the early hour of six
o'clock, was, Wordsworth in hand, to the grave of the poet.

Fitting it was, I thought, that I should read a poem at his
grave; but which of his poems should it be ? I opened the
little volume at random, and most appropriately my eye fell
upon *' A Poet's Epitaph." What a coincidence ! Perhaps this
poem embodies more of the spirit and gospel of Wordsworth's
poetry than anything else the poet has written. With the
gentle Rothay murmuring hard by a requiem, and the birds in
the old yew-trees singing matins, and "the two- fold shout" of
the cuckoo that in the poet's school-days made him look "a
thousand ways in bush and tree and sky " faintly heard in the

Wordsworth's Grave in Grasmere Cbmetery.

distance, I read in the still morning, standing by Wordsworth's
gr.ive, while the little village of Grasmerc, with its quaint houses
of blue and brown state stone, was yet asleep, the following
beautiful lines :

" Art thou a statesman in the van

Of public business trained and bred ?
First learn to love one living man ;

Then mayst thou think upon the dead.

" A Lawyer art thou ? — draw not nigh I
Go carry to some fitter place
The keenness of that practised eye.
The hardness of that sallow face.

" Shut close the door ; press down the latch ;
Sleep in thy intellectual crust ;
Nor lose ten tickings of thy watch
Near this unprofitable dust.

t^r THE Footsteps of Wordsworth. 313

" But who Is he, with modest looks,
And clad in homely russet brown ?
He murmurs near the running brooks
A music sweeter than their own.

" fn common things that round us lie
Some random truths he can impart ;
The harvest of a quiet eye

That broods and sleeps on his own heart."

As becoming the poet of simplicity whom Nature lovingly
took to her breast, and whose garment of thought has neither
frills nor fringes, the author of the Prelude and the Ode to
Immortality sleeps in a grave marked by a simple slab, bear-
ing the inscription William Wordsworth, iSjo. On his grave
was a bunch of pansies. Below his name on the same slab is
inscribed Mary Wordsworth, 1859, his wife having survived
him nine years. It is hallowed ground. Near by are the graves
of the Quillinans, related to the Wordsworths by marriage, as well
as those of his sister Dorothy, who it is said helped him much in
his work; Sarah Hutchinson, his wife's sister; and his constant
friend, William Wordsworth; his son who died in 1885, and
the pjet's two children, Thomas and Catherine, who died in
the year 1812.

A little removed from the Wordsworth family plot are two
monuments, one commemorative of Hartley Coleridge, the
unfortunate man of genius who did so little with the gifts he
had received from a bounteous Heaven and whom Wordsworth
befriended, the other a memorial to Arthur Hugh Clough, the
poet and sometime fellow of Oriel College, Oxford, who died
November 13, 1861.

It was interesting to visit the Grasmere village church^ —
St. Oswald's — where Wordsworth and his family attended
service for many years. The last remains of a pew in which
the poet sat was lately purchased at a good price by a New
York publisher. The sexton of the church, Mr. Edward Wil-
son, who was born in Grasmere in 1822 and knew the Words-
worths intimately, informed me that for many years after
Wordsworth had moved from Grasmere to Rydal Mount, he
continued to walk — a distance of five miles — to the Grasmere
church, as there was no church at Rydal Mount.
■ A tablet with a medallion of the poet marks the place

1903]

Jx THE Footsteps of Wordsworth.

I learned from Mr. Wilson, the sexton, many interesting
facts in connection with Wordsworth's life at Grasmere. The
poet came to Grasmere with his sister Dorothy in 1799, and
lived at Dove Cottage till 1808. These were his most fruitful
poetic years. Here he wrote "Hart Leap Weil," "The Idle
Shepherd Boys." "The Brothers," "Michael," "To the
Cuclcoo," " Resolution and Independence," the poems on
"The Daisy," "The Character of the Happy Warrior," "The
Green Linnet." "To the Skylark," the "Ode to Duty," "The
Waggoner," most of "The Prelude," many of his best sonnets,
and his "Ode to Immortality."

As a rule Wordsworth would be " composing all morning,"
while Dorothy was busy at household work. They then
walked out together, or went into their little pinnace on the
lake and " read poems on the water, and let the boat take its
own course," while in the evenings there was plenty of social
life at the Wordsworth home when good neighbors dropped in
to share a frugal meal, to talk, or to play whist.

The poet was a great walker, and one of his favorite walks
was back of the village, up into what is known as " the black
quarter" at Easedale. All the octogenarians of Grasmere can
tell you stories of Wordsworth, and each of the oldest inhabi-
tants feels that he holds his stories in " eniitient domain." One
large-limbed villager, who had been keeping company with a
pot of ale some time and who had often done "chores" for the
poet, ventured to hold himself superior in his knowledge of
the dead singer to the good woman who now has charge of
Dove Cottage. "It is I," said the brawny villager, with an
emphatic wave of his hand, "and not Mrs. Dixon, who should
have charge of Wordsworth's cottage." Wordsworth's charac-
teristics he summed up by saying that " he was fond of study-
ing the flowers — and the ground."

It is related of Wordsworth that, as there was no postman
in Grasmere during his residence there, the poet used to go at
midnight to meet the letter-carrier on his way from the village
of Kendal, a distance of eighteen miles from Grasmere.

It was to Dove Cottage that Wordsworth brought his newly
wedded wife — who was a Mary Hutchinson — in 1802. Dove
Cottage was formerly a little hostelry known as the Dove and
OHve. It was purchased in 1890 from Mr. Lee of Bradford
by the Dove Cottage trustees, who now hold it for the^nation.

VOL. LXXVUI.^21

Hawksmkau Grammar School: Showing Wobuswortu b Dl!>k.

\tsi% Grastnere home Wordsworth has tmmortalized in many
uuotn»i but especially in *' The Waggoner."

The trustees have endeavored to keep it much as it was in the
\\n\9 of Wordsworth's occupancy. De Quincey has left a most
HUphic account of his first visit to the cottage, which was to M
Ua hib own home for so many subsequent years. He wrote:
" A little semi-vestibule between two doors prefaced the
OiUrAHce into what might be considered the principal room of
tho cottage. It was an oblong square, not above eight and a
luilf feet high, sixteen feet long, and twelve broad ; very pret-
Mly WAinscoted from the floor to the ceiling with dark, polished
uhU slightly embellished with carving. One window there was
—A perfect and unpretending cottage window, with little dia-
mond panes embowered at almost every season of the year
with roses ; and in the summer and autumn with a profusion
of JMmine and other fragrant shrubs. From the exuberant
iMturiousneis of the vegetation around it, and from the dark

1903-]

IN THE Footsteps of Wordsworth.

hue of the wainscoting, this window, though tolerably large,
did not furnish a very powerful light to one who entered from
the open air."

Going out of the cottage by the door to the east you look
"upon a small orchard-garden, like so many others in West-
moreland, in which apple-trees, various shrubs and flowering
lants, commingle with numerous flowers that are native to
ic district. Wordsworth has immortalized this orchard in sev-
eral of his poems, especially "The Green Linnet," in which
ic very spirit of the place is enshrined.

The poet's room, which served as study, library, parlor,
ind drawing-room, is directly above the one which > uu enter
)n first going into the cottage. In it the Wordsworth house-
lold and their visitors held high discourse. There are three
lairs in this room of great interest, the cushions of which
src wrought by Dora Wordsworth, Sara Coleridge, a sister of
►or Hartley Coleridge, and Edith Southey, the daughter of
ic poet. They are a memorial of "The Triad."

Adjoining Wordsworth's room is the guest chamber of
rhich so many of the friends of the household made use. It
a tiny room with a bright outlook on the orchard- garden to
the east.

In it have slept John Wordsworth, a nephew of the poet;
Coleridge, Southey, John Wilson, Walter Scott, Sir George and
Lady Beaumont, Thomas Clarkson, Charles Lloyd, Thomas
Wilkinson, and the Coleridge children.

Speaking of the simple and humble life led by Wordsworth
at Dove Cottage, Professor Knight says:

'* A visitor can overleap the intervening years and go back
in imagination to the cottage of Wordsworth's time; and it is
not difficult to realize that rare union of simplicity and rusticity
which gave its unique charm to the life led within this humble
home first by the brother and sister, afterwards by hutband,
wife, children, sister, and guests. Such a combination of
' plain living and high thinking ' has probably never been
experienced before or since amongst the poets of England ; and
it is not too much to say that the publication of Dorothy's
Journal has been a revelation of many things hitherto quite
unknown as to Wordsworth's early life. The chronicle of the
poet chopping wood for household fires in the same small
scullery where Dorothy worked at other times, and of the

3f8

WTSTEPS OF Wordsworth.

[Dec.

hundred trivial miscellaneous items of apparent drudgery, were
all due to the most honorable poverty ; and side by side with
this we have minute disclosures of the progress and completion
of a great poet's work which have scarce a parallel in history."

The sitting-room directly over the dining-room in Dove
Cottage contains different portraits of the poet; amongst these
the one taken on Helvellyn, Nash's pen portrait, and Haydon's,
which the poet himself regarded as his best and which is
reproduced in this paper. B

The library in the cottage contains original editions of allV
of Wordsworth's works published in his lifetime — the gift of
Professor Knight, who has done so much to preserve the
records and work of the Poet of the Lakes.

While discussing the character of Wordsworth with the
kindly old sexton, Mr. Wilson, I inquired how it came about
that the poet Wordsworth changed his politics — went from
Whig to Tory — and Mr. Wilson replied, That is easily explained.
It was because Lord Brougham threatened to reduce his
salary as distributer of stamps for Westmoreland. fl

Sd it would appear that a poet is after all very human, and
sometimes when you touch his pocket, you touch his principles.
Browning's lines are then justly aimed when, in reference to
Wordsworth's political turn over, the author of "Saul" sings:

"Just for a handful of silver he left us."

It would appear that Grasmere has been Tory for generations,
and Mr. R. Rigg, the present member, is the first Liberal who
has been elected for the district for very many years.

Asked as to the difference between the Church of England
in Wordsworth's time and now in Grasmere, Mr. Wilson said it
is much more Ritualistic to-day. Wordsworth certainly must
have -had a Ritualistic moment — nay more, a moment of real
Catholic faith, when he penned his beautiful sonnet on " The
Virgin." It was the poet's reward for being true to art, which
ever has its root and inspiration in Catholic truth.

It is folly to charge Wordsworth with pantheism. The late
Aubrey de Vere, his ami intime, has acquitted him of this
charge, and perhaps no critic has written more sympathetically
and wisely of Wordsworth than De Vere. I find his criticism
far more valuable than his poetry, for however clear and true
and reverent is De Vere's poetic thought, no quicklime enthu-

igoy] IN THE Footsteps of Wordsworth.

3^9

Rydal Village.

siasm can give him a place beyond that of a secdnd-rate poet.
A classification of the poets would assign him this place — no
more.

Wordsworth certainly lived in a literary neighborhood among

th: Li'ces. At Keswick, which is some sixteen or twenty miles

north of Grasmere, lived for many years the poets Shelley and

SDuthey, and at Brantwood, near Coniston, the great art critic

*nd essayist, John Ruskin.

Just as you are issuing out of Ambleside, at the head of

*-^Ke Windermere, you are shown the house in which lived for

"J^ay years Harriet Martineau, and about two miles from

^^Slcside, beyond what is known as Low Wood, stands the

P^'ctty cottage of Dove's Rest, the residence for a brief time of

'"S- Hemans, the poetess. When De Quincey first came to

^ Lake region he lived at Coniston, and moved to Dove

~<^ttage in 1808, when Wordsworth left the latter for Allan

^'^k, which stands in the back part of the village of Grasmere.

.""^tn here the poet went in 1812 to the Rectory, where he

^^<i for two years.

B/ the way, it may be interesting to note that one of the

^'^^nts of Dove Cottage before Wordsworth moved into it was

^*^^ dalesman-shepherd from whom the character ot Luke was

320

IlV THE FOOTSTEPS OF WORDSIVORTM.

[Dec,

drawn in the posm entitled " Michael." Mr. Wilson pointed
out to me the farm which is known to-day as Michael. This
and Tintern Abbey are two of the masterpieces of Wordsworth.
He who cannot find pathos in the line

"And never lifted up a single stone,"

should never look upon a page of Wordsworth.

From 1814 to 1850 Wordsworth lived at Rydal Mount.
The village of Rydal is about a mile and a quarter from
Ambleside. Rydal Mount is a little cottage almost hidden by a
profusion of roses and ivy. At present it is occupied by Fisher
Wordsworth, who adopted the name of Wordsworth and is
mirried to a granddaughter of the poet. Between Ambleside
and Grasmere lives another granddaughter, Mrs. Col Mair,
whom I saw in the Grasmere church and whose profile resem-
bles that of her grandfather very much.

Simple, lovable, strong, noble, the Poet of the Lakes — the
Vicegerent of Nature — lived his eighty years and left to the
world a precious legacy of song. His poems are but the voice
of nature — now of the mountain peak, now of force and fell,
now of his loved celandine and daffodil sweetened, bedewed,
baptized into the divine tenderness of truth. ■

The genius of his life-work can best be interpreted where
his spirit seems yet to abide—amid the lakes and vales, the
fields and fells of Westmoreland.

1903,] Some African/ Languages and Religions. 321"

SOME AFRICAN LANGUAGES AND RELIGIONS.

BY REV. LUKE PLUNKETT. Miss. Ap. Uganda.

IN the course of an article in TiiE Catholic
World, January, 1897, by the eminent Oriental-
ist» Mgr. Charles de Harlez, on "The Necessity
of Studyinff Languages and Their Monuments,"
we read the following passage:
" But there is a fourth branch of the sciences whose bear-
ing, from the religious point of view, is unhappily not suitably
appreciated, nor its action in the world sufficiently recognized.
I refer to the science of languages and their monuments* a
science too much neglected, and yet one whose importance
may not be slighted, since these monuments contain that re-
ligious history of humanity which is to-day chiefly employed
in judging the dogmas and achievements of Christianity."

The learned author is evidently referring not only to studies
in Egyptology, Assyriology, Chinese, Coptic, and Syriac — of
which he is himself so great a master — but also to other less
well-known branches of the same subject, as farther on he says:
"The ancient inhabitants of America, Oceanica, and Africa
are summoned, like those of Europe and Asia, to play parts
that are never unimportant. Theories concerning the origin of
man, the nature of his intelligence, his soul, and the original
unity of the human species, are everywhere receiving light from
philological monuments."

Hence it may not be inopportune to place before your
readers a brief summary of the languages and dialects spoken
in the countries round the north-western, northern, and north-
eastern shores of the Lake Victoria Nyanza, and extending
inland for a radius of say three hundred miles. Besides being
of some interest to the philologist, it may serve as a basis or
guide for future investigation in the same field by those who
have time and opportunity at their disposal.

The region known as the " Uganda Protectorate " has at-
tracted no little attention during the last twenty years. First,
after its "discovery" by Europeans in the reign of King
Mutesa (1862). came a series of cruel persecutions of the

322 So.xfE African Languages and Religions. [Dec

Christians by his successor, King Mwanga ; then civil war broke
out, followed by the hoisting of the British flag; the flight and
capture of King Mwanga and King Kabarega; the despatch from
England of special commissioners sent to investigate and ar- I
range matters ; the Sudanese Mutiny ; and finally the ap-
pointment of the present child- king, Daudi Chua. The con-
struction of the Mombasa-Lake Victoria Railway — an immense
undertaking — attracted hundreds of Europeans and others to I
the soil of British East Africa. American engineers also came
over in the service of the " American Bridge Company," \vho
by their energy ahd skill added a good deal to the success of I
the new railway. It may be allowed me to say, that personally
the present writer feels most grateful to the American bridge-
makers, and to all those Europeans who helped to construct
the railway, because no longer shall we missionaries have to
tramp on foot the dreary eight hundred miles between Mombasa
and Uganda's capital, as we had to do in 1895. Whereas it
occupied us then four months to travel from London to Kampala,
the same journey can now be easily accomplished in less than a
month. And as the Basungn (or white men) have already found
their way to these inland countries in considerable numbers in
the past, it is pretty certain that they will come in much larger
number in the future. They will come, it may be, in the
interest of science, or in the service of our king, or to seek
their fortunes in ivory, rubber, or the gold mines that have
yet to be discovered ; or, God grant, to work for the salvation ■
of souls as foreign missionaries. But in whatever capacity they
niay come, and if they wish to work in contact with the
natives, a knowledge of one or more of the various dialects
spoken in the Uganda Protectorate will undoubtedly be of the
utmost importance for their success.

Every European who lands on the East Coast of Africa,
between say Cape Guardafui and Oelagoa Bay, becomes ac-
quainted, more or less, with the language known as Kiswahili,
the lingua franca of East Central Africa and Zanzibar and
Pemba. In the interior, however, while Kiswahili is most use-
ful for carrying on intercourse with Arab and Swahili traders,
it is but little understood and seldom spoken by the natives,
who have their own tribal dialects. In many cases these
dialects differ from one another almost as much as Gaelic does
from German or English from Italian; hence it is no slight

1903.] Some African Languages and Religions. 323

matter to master even one of them, especially those of the Masai-
Nandi groups with their deep guttural and nasal sounds.

The principal dialects spoken in the Lake region and along
the banks of the Upper Nile may be summed up under the fol-
lowing groups : Bantu, Masai-Turkana, Nandi-Lumbwa, Nilotic,
Madi, and Hamite. The region referred to lies between the fifth
degree north latitude and the first degree south latitude ; the
Laikipia Escarpment on the east (near Kikuyu), and the Congo
free State on the west. The total area thus included is reck-
oned at about [50,000 square miles, with a population of
3»8o3,ooo, according to tke boundaries of 1901.

The mystery of the parentage and the place of origin of the
Bantu group of languages still remains unsolved — probably it
originated, like so many other tongues, at the Tower of Babel.
P About 40,000.000 people speak the Bantu language. It is spoken,
more or less, from the Cameroons on the west to Zanzibar on
the east, and from the borders of Somaliland on the north to
Cape Colony on the south. It is much more closely interre-
lated than is the case in any other grouping of African forms
of speech, or than are the Aryan languages.

The Masai-Turkana group constitutes a very loosely knit

group of languages, each of which perhaps resembles the others

■ sligpfitly niore than it approaches dialects outside this grouping.

The Nandi-Lumbwa group is merely dialectical variations of

ojj^ common speech.

P The Madi and Lendu groups have West African affinities

faii-»tly allied to Bantu.

The Hamitic group is spoken in the Protectorate only by
sol<3iers and traders, but possibly Somaliland may be annexed
^i^i^ day now; at present it is outside the boundary. Space
"<^^s not permit us to tel! in detail of the geographical
positions of the countries where so many different dialects are
spoken.

With regard to the forms of belief prevailing, the people
speaking the above dialects may be divided into four classes:

1. Christians — Roman Catholic and Protestant.

2. Mohammedans — the religion of Islamism having been in-
troduced by Arabs from the coast.

■ 3- Heathens with a vague belief in a God of the sky, but having

little Qc no worship ; also a belief in witchcraft and omens. This is
especially the case with the Masai, Nandi, and people of Kavirondo.

I
I
I

324 Some African Languages and Religions. [Dec,

4. Pagans with a strong belief in numerous spirits — ances-
tral and others — and in witchcraft. ^

These spirits are called " Bachwezi " by the Banyoro people, ■
and " Balubare " by the Baganda and Basoga. In former times
the religion of the Baganda, in so far as they can be said to
have had any religion at all, consisted in the worship of the
Balubare spirits. They believed, however, in the existence of
a supreme Creator whom they called Kalonda (from the verb
Knionda, to create), but said that he had handed over his au-
thority to. the Balubare {Lubar€=im^), of whom there were
several. Some of them represented various phenomena of na-
ture, such as the rainbow, earthquake, thunder; others were
supposed to reside in certain trees, rocks, rivers, and hills ;
others again bore the names of virulent diseases, Kuwait (small-
pox), Kaumpuli (black plague), and the like. Pre-eminent
among the Balubare was that of Mukasa, the Neptune of the Vic-
toria Nyanza, who was supposed to have supreme control over
its waters, and had to be propitiated by offerings before each
voyage. The ntwayo, or soul, of a departed king or great chief
was frequently styled a Lubare^ and was believed to reside in
certain persons, to whom was given the name mandiva, or
medicine men. It is told of King Mutesa, that in order to pre-
vent any of the Mandxva from pretending to have the king's
spirit (or soul) after his death, that in case any of them should
mike puch a claim, he was not to be believed unless he could
speak Arabic — the king himself having known that language to
some extent.

In Basoga each Lubare (spirit) has its own supposed place
of abode and its own Kiilago (that is, Mandwa or medicine
man), whom the people consult on certain occasions, and who
always gets a fee of a hen, sheep, or goat — or, from a chief, a
cow. There are about twenty of these Balubare in the province
of Basoga alone, but their cultus is fast dying out through
the pressure of famine, disease, hut-tax, and the presence of
missionaries. The same Lubare is styled " good '^ or "bad"
according as the favor asked be granted or refused. Besides
*' spirits," the Basoga have a particular liking for the snake; iafl
fact, it is certain that in the past, at any rate, they paid it a
special kind of worship, They even go so far as to address it
as ** miikama wafe"^o\ir master. Even still in some places,
w'l-in they wish to celebrate a certain feast, a big snake or

1903.] Some African Languages and Religions. 325

python is procured, which is carefully guarded in a hut during
the days of the feasting, and kept gorged by the presents of
chickens, sheep, and goats brought to it by its crowd of pagan
devotees. No doubt the Kalago, or medicine man, takes care
to put aside for his own use, and that of his numerous wives,
the greater part of the offerings brought to the hut for the
snake. During the time the feast lasts this snake is called a
Lubare, and although they fear rather than love it, they seem
to acknowledge that it (or rather the spirit within) has power
to do them evil. Women and children are brought to be pre-
sented to the snake, while its protection is besought on their be-
half, and they are told not to injure it. And, as a matter of
fact, a Basoga will seldom kill a snake if he can avoid it. If
the snake kills him, it is taken as a sign that he has done
something to offend the Lubare. In some of their legends the
snake is made to speak.

The generic name for- snake in Luganda is " musota" and
we see this word turning up in the Nandi, Lumbwa, and
Kamasia language, two hundred miles away, as meaning devil.
The word " musambwa " in the Luganda language also means
a kind of large snake, and we find that at least seven different
tribes — some living widely apart from one another — use the
same word to mean their devil or evil spirit. The words SAg-
tani, Masitani, and Seitan are merely variations of the name
Satan. That these untutored tribes, knowing nothing of Genesis,
should, in common with the white and other races, connect the
snake or serpent with the spirit of evil, is certainly interesting;
but that the devil should select the snake as his visible coun-?
terfeit presentment to enslave them, is not so surprising when
we remember the incident in the Garden of Eden.

The Baganda possessed no idols, and apparently nothing
that could be called temples; but numerous little beehive-
shaped huts — and most of the.!! not much bigger — made of
sticks covered with grass, studded the waysides, sacred to some
lubare. These fetich huts are still to be seen in many parts of
Basoga, either singly or in clusters, generally with a large tree
growing close by, under which are placed the earthenware pots
of food and drink placed there to propitiate the spirits. Be-
sides the Mandwa, or medicine- men, who were the supposed
medium of communication between the people and the Balubare,
there was another class of sorcerers whose business it was to
detect criminals, somewhat answering to the augurs among the

326 Some African

ID RELIGIONS, [Dec,

ancient Romans. A third class followed the lucrative calling
of professional rainmakers.

The Baganda historians in describing the traditional inci-
dents in the life of their supposed first king — the famous
Kintu — relate, in all probability with more or less fidelity, the
chief facts connected with the creation and fall of man. They
say that Kintu was the first man, that he was brought forth
{=yeyamusala) by Gulu (=Heaven or the Above), and that when
he came into the world he found no other people there. Gulu
said to his son Kintu : " Go down to the earth, you and your
wife Nambi, and bring forth children." Gulu also commanded
them : " When you are going to the earth take care that
Warumbe (=lit., Death), the brother of your wife, does not go
with you; he is away at present; start early in the morning
before he returns, so that he does not see you going, because
if he shall see you going he will go with you, and as he is
very wicked, he will kill all the children to whom you give _
birth. And if you forget anything do not come back for it."^

Kintu and his wife set out ; but the former returned, in
spite of Gulu's command, for some millet seed. Warumbe seized
the opportunity and returned with him. When children were
born to Kintu he requested one as a servant. He was refused,
and in the spirit of vengeance killed Kintu's offspring one by
one. Gulu, in mercy, finally sent his son, Kaikuzi (^Ht., the
Digger), who removed Warumbe from the earth.

It is remarkable that the Bantu root word for man — «/// —
is found in the name Ki-ntu {wu-n/u^one man ; da-ntu=rmLny
men) ; the prefix Ki- being sometimes used as an augmenta-
tive, meaning greatness. As if Kintu was iAe man, par excel-
lence, of the human race, just as other nations regard Adam.
The word Kintu is also used to mean "a thing," great or ■
small according to its adjective. With regard to the name 1
Nambi, it is strange that we have here the root word for
evil — bi {ntuntu mu-bi=:^SL bad man; bantu- ba-bi^ttdid men;
yaydg^ra bu-bits=.hQ. spoke badly). The prefix Na-, like AV-, is
also vaguely honorific. We find it in some female names, <'.^.,
Na-mas^Ui^ih^ Queen-Mother; A'ii-/i«ydt_the Queen-Sister;
Na-longo^a. mother of twins. Hence the name Nambi might
be freely translated "the mother of evil."

The Banyoro, who may be regarded as first cousins of the m
Baganda, but living more towards the north, relate another
version of the oft-told Uganda legend respecting Kintu, in which

1903.] Some Afrtcan Languages and Religions. 327

lit is probable that Kintu represents in his person, Adam, Moses,
[Cham, and the original founder of the Banyoro dynasty.

Before leaving this interesting subject let us glance for a mo-
ment at the traces of the religion of the Masai and other tribes as
found in their language. The Masai people believe in a vague
power of the sky which they call *' Aiigai." This word means
not only sky but is also used to indicate rain, which comes from
the sky, though there is a special word for the water descend-
ing from the sky ("Attasha"). By far the greater number of
tfac Masai are pastoral, hence rain is their greatest visiSle
blessing from the above ; hence their custom of giving worship
to the visible rain cloud instead of to the visible Deity. The sky
god is evoked when a severe drought threatens ruin to the
pastures. On such an occasion as this the chief of the district
will summon the children of all the surrounding villages. They
come in the evening, just after sunset, and stand in a circle,
each child holding a bunch of grass. Their mothers, who
come with them, also hold grass in their hands. The children
th^n commence a long chant, or prayer, the burden of which
rur»s: ** Angai namonie aiopo ingurutnan engujida" (=0 God,
w^ pray Thee clothe the fields with grass).

Some of the Masai hold that at the time when their race
be^an there were four deities ruling the world. One was black,
ati<i full of kindness towards humanity; another was white, but
held himself more aloof^was, in fact, the God of the Great
Firmament. Then there was a gray god, who was wholly in-
diFTcrent to the welfare of humanity; and a red god, who was
thoroughly bad. The gray and the red gods, however, quarrelled
with each other and were killed. The black god was very
human in his attributes, and, in fact, was nothing but a glorified
maxi, and the ancestor of the Masai. The black god, who
originally lived on the snowy summit of Mount Kenya, also
died after he had founded the reigning family ; and now the
^^sai acknowledge the existence of only one deity of supreme
po\v^|. aj^d vague attributes, the white God of the Firmament.
The Nandi-speaking tribes also believe in the existence of a
^ y god {Parai), who is of much the same vague nature as the

gai " of the Masai. Their belief in the personality of

** deity is, however, more exact and trusting, as is shown by
^ fact that the people of the Elgeyo Escarpment offer up
P*"^yer to God every morning, and they believe that what they
^•^ for in this way will be granted.

3 28 SOME A FRTCAN LANGUAGES AND RELIGIONS, [Dec,

Another branch of the Nandi race, the Kamasia, make the
following tribal prayer to the Deity in times of adversity. The
people meet together, bringing a sheep, some flour, and some
milk and honey. Three holes are then dug in the ground, one
for the oldest man of the tribe, one for the oldest woman, and
one for a child. The food is cooked and mixed together, and
portions are given to the man, woman, and child, who bury it
in the holes allotted to them. The remainder of the sacrifice
is then eaten by the old men of the tribe, and while this is
proceeding the rest of the people pray very solemnly.

Among these people there is a vague belief in ancestral
spirits as well as in a central Deity. It is* thought that by
burying this food in the ground the spirits of departed chiefs,
together with, perhaps, the omnipotent Deity, may eat the
buried food and accept the sacrifice of the tribe. The reason
given by the natives for the selection of the old man and
woman and the little child was, that the tribe intended to
show that all its members, from the oldest to the youngest,
were united in approaching God with a petition.

Such are a few of the simple customs and beliefs of tribes
— whether belonging to the Lost Tribe or not remains to be
seen — who have increased and multiplied in Equatorial Africa ;
who possess no written records; living their lives according to
nature, helped it is true by a faint, glimmering ray of the
Divine Decalogue; fond of singing, dancing, fighting, and in
some places of stealing; whose wants are easily satisfied;
knowing nothing of the outer, older, and more civilized part
of the human family; tribes whose very existence were totally
unknown to Europeans until within modern times.

From the preceding pages it will be understood what a
vast work remains to be done in the task of writing down in
grammatical form these African languages, with the view, in
the first place, of having catechisms and other books printed
suitable for the propagation of the Gospel among these as
yet — with only a few exceptions — entirely heathen tribes.
Surely it is not vain to hope that some of the talented young
men now studying in the many centres of learning throughout
the United States will oflfer themselves for service in the
African Foreign Missions. There is room and work enough
for all, as there are tribes that have hardly ever yet seen a
white man, much less a missionary.

1903.] Some African languages and Religions. 329

The whole of the above dialects are spoken in the two vicari-
ates of the " Upper Nile " and the " Victoria Nyanza " (French),
except, perhaps, a few on the borders. Several books have already
been printed in the Swahili and Luganda languages, which have
helped immensely in the conversion and education of the peo-
ple. Unless we would see him fall lower than he is at pres-
ent, we must hearken to the cry of the poor African — so long
despised, so long in darkness, and hasten to save him before
it be too late. The state of utter degradation and corruption
caused among thousands of the brave Masai and other tribes
along the railway line by the hordes of imported Indian
coolies, since 1895, >s ^^^ heartrending for calm description.

The last quarter of a century has witnessed a marvellous
desire on the part of the Baganda people and some of their
neighbors to embrace the Christian faith.

During the eight years we have been at work here over ten
thousand have been baptized, and at present about fifteen thou-
sand others are in course of instruction for the sacrament of bap-
tisxxi. The Perfs Blancs, who have been at work in the country
siricre 1879, can probably account for five times the above numbers
at least. It may be that before the end of the twentieth century
th^ whole, or at least the greater part, of heathen Africa will
ha-ve come to the feet of the world's Redeemer — who knows?
" .^^'^thiopia pr<zvenict manus ejus Deo*' (Ps. Ixvii.) Many of
th^se tribes have excellent natural qualities; they arc black,
bii^ not to be despised. Even among the rudest of them the
litt;l€ children address their parents as "Papa" (or " Baba "),
"iVIatnma."

It is to the rising generation that we look for our chief
success in the work of conversion, to those who are so far
comparatively free from the bondage of heathen habits, and
whose minds are more susceptible to the teaching of Chris-
tiaaity. The Light of the Gospel of Peace and Mercy — for
nineteen hundred years the blessed possession of other races
"''^fe favored — has at length found its way to these long-
'^*^ children of Cham. May the good prayers of Catholics
***" ^nd near prevail before God to keep away from our future
neop^yjgg {^jg dark demon of Mohammedanism — our greatest
c^^erriy, especially when officially favored — so that they may
y*t enter the One Fold under the care of the One Shepherd,

330

^ORTS OF YOUTH.

[Dec,

gOI^liS OP yoUJPH.

BY THOMAS B. REILLY.

jNCONSTANT heart, so quickly moved,
Ever again for thee
Gold tides, far out in the morning light.
Shall touch the mystery
Of a magic coast, and a merry quest,
Lit-sails dipping t' the far low west,
These — and then the long unrest
With its haunting melody.

Clear as the tones in a winding dusk

From buoy-bells afar.
The past will call in the wan, gray light

Under some evening star —
Over a waste of beaches, where
Pale wrecks whiten i' the wintry air,
With never a sea-bird homing there

From shadowy reef or bar.

E'en when the slow, all-leveling night,

Out of her ancient keep,
Lures the will from its sentry- post

Into the valley of sleep, —
Lo I a light : and the distant scene —
That lies the mist and the moon between —
Clears, and the ports of yout^ are seen

Shining over the deep.

»903-

AN ENGLISH ANCHORESS.

331

AN ENGLISH ANCHORESS.

BY FRANCESCA M. STEELE.

lUINTON is a sleepy little town in the extreme
north-east of Gloucestershire; its name has
several derivations. Atkyns, in his History of
Gloucestershire^ says it is so called from the
manor formerly belonging to a nunnery, ' queen '
in Anglo-Saxon meaning woman ; but from the time of Edward
the Confessor Quinton or Quenintun, as it was then called,
has been in lay hands, so this derivation seems far-fetched.

Noatus, in his Worcestershire Nuggets, says it takes its name
from the game of Quintain, which used to be played in Quinton
Field, one of the three hamlets that make the parish of
Quinton, Upper and Lower Quinton being the other two.
This was a very popular game in the middle ages, and no
doubt the future anchoress, with whom we are here concerned,
frequently witnessed it before she left the world and, as the
wife of Sir John Clopton, knight and soldier, lived at the
manor-house and entertained his guests. The game was one
likely to attract spectators as well as players, and at a quintain
tournament a large party would doubtless meet at the hall.

A strong post was placed in the ground, and on it was
fixed a piece of wood turned by a spindle, at one end of which
a bag of sand was suspended ; the other end was broad enough
to be struck by a spear when the player was in full gallop on
horseback.

This piece of wood was called the quintain, and the pressure
of the spear caused it to whirl round quick enough to catch
the horseman a bang on his back with the sand-bag if his
horse's speed was less than that of the quintain. Sometimes
he was unhorsed, and his discomfiture no doubt added to the
pleasure of the spectators.

It is rather a far-cry from this mediaeval pastime to the

life of a recluse, but it is with the anchoretic life of Dame

Joan Clopton after she left the world on her husband's death,

and was enclosed in a cell in the fine old church of Quinton,

Tou uucyiii. — 22

I
I

33a

Znglish anchoress.

that we are here concerned. Before passing to that we
must relate a quaint legend concerning a former owner of
Quinton Manor in the time of William the Conqueror. This
was one Robert Marmion, who came over with the Conqueror
and was given the Manor of Quinton and Tamworth Castle
for his services. Not content with this he turned some nuns
out of Polesworth Abbey and drove them to Oldbury. This
abbey was dedicated to St. Edyth, a former abbess, and on
her nuns being sent away she appeared one night, with her
crosier in her hand, to Robert Marmion as he was asleep in
Tamworth Castle and told him unless he restored the abbey he
should have an evil death, and enforced her remarks with a
blow from her crosier, after which she vanished.

The next morning Robert Marmion sent for a priest, con-
fessed his sin, and restored the abbey to the nuns, and more-
over gave the advowson of Quinton Church to them. At the
dissolution in Henry VIII. 's time it went to the dean and ■
chapter of Worcester, %

It is an interesting old church, dedicated to St, Swithin, with
late Norman arches and pillars on the south side of the nave,
and traces on the west of the old Norman roof, with a steeped
slope lower by many feet. The pillars and arches of the north
side are poor ; they are twelfth or early thirteenth century
work.

The tomb of Dame Joan Ciopton is in what was formerly
the Lidy-chapet. It is of gray marble, with an inlaid brass
effigy of the dame on the top and a most interesting inscrip-
tion • round it in Latin elegiacs, of which the following is a -
translation: |

"O Christ! grandson of Ann, have mercy on Joan Ciopton,
Who, as a widow, was consecrated to Thee and enclosed here;
Her husband having died as a soldier. For Thy sake, Jesu,
She ma.de great sacrifices, generous to the miserable and to
guests ;

* Inscription on brass of Dame Joan Ciopton :

" Cbriste nepos Anne Ciopton miserere Joh'e, •

Qui lib! sacrata clauditur hie vidua ;
Milise defuncto sponso, pro te Thu fuit ista,
Larga libcris miseris prodiga hospitibus,
Sic ven' abilibus Icmplis, vie fudit egenis,
Mittent ut cells quas sequcretur opes.
Pro tantis meritis, sibi dones regna beaia
Nee preniat uma rogo so beat aula Dei."

1903.] AN English Anchoress. 333

Thus she bestowed her wealth on venerable temples and on

the poor,
Sending her good works to heaven that she might loUow.
For merits so great, give to her blessed realms;
Let not purgatory detain her, but let the palace (court) of

God bless her."

It is interesting to note that from reverence the Holy Name
in line three is not scanned, but omitted. The arms of the
Bssfords, three pears, and Cloptons, an angel with a scroU, an
cao^lc with another scroll, and two beasts with scrolls, adorn the
four corners of the tomb.

Dame Joan Clopton was an heiress and the daughter of

Alexander Besford, or Pearsford, of Besford in Worcestershire.

She mirried Sir William Clopton, knight of Quinton, and had

twro children; a son who was sixteen at the time of his father's

d - i.th, but appears to have died soon after, for the other child^

* daughter, inherited her parents' estates. Sir William, who as

^* learn from the inscription was an officer, died in 1419, and

't was after his death that Dame Clopton became an anchoress

*^ Qjinton, where she was buried in 1430 In the LadychapeL

It is considered probable that Sir William Clopton, who

^a.s both charitable and religious, built this chapel, and that

''^^ cell in which his widow was enclosed adjoined it. There is

^'^ squint in the church, and a careful examination of it leads

^ the concluiion that although no trace remains of a cell with ■

P>ent-roof, one was probably attached to this chapel for the

— ^*'>^ anchoress's accooi nodation, and perhaps the small window _

P ~.^'*^^ the sedilia opened into it, and has been bricked up since. |

"^^ church has been restored less cruelly than many, but all

^ *"*"* ains of Dame CJopton's cell have disappeared ; there still

''*^ ains a small piece of colored glass, with a figure of a

*^^ *~»nan in prayer, in a window behind the organ, which may

^-^ *~e5ent the recluse. Curious to say, it has survived all the

t^*- ^r old glass in the window.
"The brass, which is a very beautiful one and in fine preserva-
*~*^ , represents the recluse in a habit, with a veil and wimple
^-*- a long cloak. She has no girdle, but the cloak is fastened
^^^ *^Vi two cords with tassels at the ends, which reach below
^ waist ; the sleeves of the habit are quite tight, and have
*> arrow band of fur round the wrist ; on one hand is a ring

An English Anchoress.

with a jewel. As this ring is on the right hand, it is evidently
that of her heavenly espousals. J

Anchoresses were allowed more liberty in external matters,
»uch as dress, than nuns. When they were members of a
religious order, naturally they wore the habit of their order.
The ordinary dress of other anchoresses was a black habit and
veili such as Dame Clopton is represented as wearing. Her
brtM ttflSgy is valuable as giving a picture of an anchoress's
habit.

Richard Poore, the author of that beautiful book Ancren
Rix»it^ written for three sisters of high birth who were
unchortsafta At Tarrant- Key nston in Dorsetshire in the thirteenth
century, told them their clothes might be either black or white.
o«ly thty must be plain, w^arm, and well made ; they were to
WMt W4knil CtptS if they had no wimples, and black veils;
Htl^lt^^ btOOCtMS, and ornamented girdles were forbidden them.

Slk •'Clrtd, who wrote a rule for his sister, a Cistercian nun
^f^^ W^ nWo a recluse^ ordered her to wear a black habit,
b^b Auniner and winter, over some other mysterious garments
|l>f\iA»^t by him; her veil was to be of "mean black," not of
"precious cloth." This prescription of a black habit for a
kl^fvian nun, whose habit is of course white, shows it was
HQtl M invariable rule for the recluse to retain her habit if a
l\\9U\h(^r of any religious order.

Wurmth is especially insisted on in these old rules for
f^udutresses ; no doubt very wisely, as many of them had no
Ar^placea in their cells nor means of warming them, so they must
havo suffered from the cold very much in England. The fancy
ujpture drawn by a Protestant writer on recluses of an an-
phiircis sitting comfortably over a fire in an arm chair, with a
pat [Mirring by her side, is singularly unlike the reality.

Tiie cells of anchoresses and the furniture varied very much
according to the dispositions of the inmates. Some anchoresses,
though enclosed in a cell, lived in a house, attended by two
maida ; one window of the anchoress's cell in that case looked
into the church, the other into her parlor in the house, where
visitors came to see her, and through this parlor window her
food was passed; there was a third window to give light and
air.

Others lived in a cell attached to some church, either in
the church or communicating with it ; but the cell always had

^903-]

335

a vin^low into the church which commanded a view of the

aJtar, so that the recluse could see the Blessed Sacrament and

'hear Mass from this window; there was a second window at

which she received visitors, and usually a third for air and

iight.

As to the furniture of the cells, this appears to have been
very simple. Many cells contained a stone seat, within a
recess; some of the women had a chair or a stool to sit
upon ; some slept on the ground, which in many cases was the
bare earth, with a stone for a pillow ; others had straw or
'''"&S, some a mattress, while others had a bed, though of a very
simple description.

Their windows had a grating and shutters, and the parlor
window had a curtain o( black cloth with a white cross on it.
The window was a source of temptation to the anchoress; the
^■uthor of Ancren Riwle specially warns hts anchoresses against
looking out of the window : " It is evil above evil to look out,
*or the young especially." '* Love your windows as little as
possible, and see that they be small, the parlor's smallest and
*iarrowest," he says in another place.

Gossip was another temptation to which anchoresses were
^^bject; .the anchoress's, and for that matter the anchorite's
^^indow also, was often the emporium of village gossip if the
^^cluse was at all lax, and those authors who wrote for recluses,
^Ve those above mentioned, or Walter Hilton, the author of
^He Scale of Perfection, written for a recluse, specially warn
^heir readers against this vice. Anchoresses as a rule took
^hrce vows — chastity, obedience, and, instead of poverty, a vow
^f constancy of abode ; they were bound to remain in their
Cell till they died, unless sickness, compulsion, or obedience to
their superiors obliged them to leave it ; and there are in-
stances of some who have been burnt in their cells rather than
leave them. They were generally buried in their cells. Indeed,
the life of these prisoners of love — " prisoners of Chirst," as
the Germans call them — was a living death. They were walled
up in their cells when enclosed by the bishop ; hence, proba-
bly, the ghastly tales of " walled- up nuns" which have been
circulated by Protestants, ignoring the fact that the immuring
was voluntary on the part of the immured.

The ceremony of enclosure, which is a very beautiful one,
was usually performed by the bishop of the diocese, or else

336

AN English Anchoress,

[Dec,

by some one delegated by him to do it. It has been said
that the sacrament of Extreme Unction was administered ; but
this does not seem possible, since the recluse was not in dan-
ger of death. What probably happened was this : the service
was read without the holy oils being applied, just as the Car-
thusian monk says a "dry Mass" {missa sicca) before he says
Mass to stimulate his devotion.

After the service of Extreme Unction had beeri read the
recluse prostrated him or herself, and the officiating minister
read the burial service, after which he and the acolytes retired;
the entrance of the cell was then walled in, or if a door, was
securely fastened and sealed by the bishop with his seal.

Some anchoresses were rich women. They usually gave
their fortune to the church or the poor, reserving enough for
their own maintenance. Others were poor and dependent on
the alms of the faithful ; others lived in a cell which was per-
petually endowed ; others were dependent on some patron,
perhapi the lord or squire of the parish in which they lived,
who sent them their food daily.

In an old German rule for recluses, the recluse was bidden
lo put his pitcher and platter outside his window every morn-
ing iiftcr tierce and take them in again after none, when the
rdt'Uiie might cat and drink what was in them ; if they were
onipty, he was to say his grace and wait patiently till the next
duy.

The chief occupation of the anchoress was, of course, prayer,
particularly mental prayer. Most of those who became recluses
had left the world to spend their lives in contemplation.
Miuuial labor is enjoined on them also, and church embroidery
Appears to have been one of their occupations ; sometimes they
had the care of the vestments belonging to the church, and
made and mended them; sometimes they made clothes for the
poor; they also made their own clothes; but they were for-
bidden to teach children by St. JEW&d and Richard Poore, who
mays the anchor house was not to be turned into a school nor
the anchoress Into a school-mistress. Many of them said the
Divine Office, and those who could read also employed a good
deal of time in reading spiritual books. They were allowed a
good deal more liberty in prayer and in other things than
nuna, but then, on the other hand, they were confined and
enclosed far more strictly than the most strictly enclosed nun.

*903.]

PR A YER.

337

Indeed, it was the strictest and highest form of asceticism,
and in these days, when pleasure and amusement seem to be
the end and aim and object of most people's lives, it is diffi-
cult to understand how so many holy men and women were
found, not only in England but in all parts of Europe, to
embrace this strange, and to some terrible, life. Faith must
have been stronger in those days than it is now to have
enabled not only strong and talented men, but weak and deli-
cate women, to live day and night walled up alone in a cell
sometimes attached to a lonely church.

A PRAYER.

BY RHODA WALKER EDWARDS.

fORD, give me strength to fight,
Though the losing cause be mine;
With the weaker and the right
Keep me abreast the line ;
And though the world accord
But a failure-mark to me,
Let others rise, O Lord,
Through my fall, to victory.

338 THE MAESTRINO'S CHRISTMAS. [Dec.^

THE FORGETFULNESS OF THE MAESTRINO; OR. THE
MAESTRINO'S CHRISTMAS.

BY MARIE DONEGAN WALSH.

I-IAN LORENZO was a genius. There was no doubt
of it ; the proof (if proof had been needed) being
that he met with the fate popularly supposed to
be accorded to prophets in their own country.
In other words, the lad was regarded by his
fellow-villagers with the contemptuous pity of a primitive com-
munity for anything beyond their narrow round of soil-tilling
interests.

Every one has a nickname in Italy. There are too many
" Pietros," " Giovannis," and " Giuseppes " in every village ; so
to save time one must be distinguished in some way, by a
name denoting an avocation or personal characteristic. There-
fore " II Maestrino " (the little master) was the sarcastic epithet
Gian Lorenzo went by, up there in sunny " Val-di-CoUina,"
that tiny mountain citadel, where the shadow of the Alps falls
across the vine-clad slopes. For could he not play the organ
better than the " curato " (who had taught him the little he
knew) or draw music even out of an old cracked fiddle; not
only that, but also compose " canzoni " and hymns ? Neverthe-
less all these accomplishments brought him no honor and
glory.

It is strange that in Italy — popularly supposed to be the
home of music — there should be such condemnation of a dawn-
ing musical genius. But the Italian mind, " au fond," is keenly
and shrewdly practical. Brought up, not in the sordid slums
of a city, which must inevitably kill the love of all things
beautiful, but amid surroundings inspiring enough to produce
a generation of artists, poets, and musicians, the peasants are
yet confronted with the stern problem of life. To exist one
must toil ; and " quattrini " (money) are not to be had by
music but by the hard labor of the ground. Few echoes of
meteor-like successes, either in art or music, reach these remote
mountain villages, where talent is considered only a drawback.

'903.]

The

^RINO S C/fj

WmA

339

Besides which, village-folk can never realize that one of them-
selves could possibly turn out to be a genius in any other
lioe than that of an agriculturist. No, disapprobation was uni-
versal ; Gian Lorenzo's father complained bitterly of his son's
ineptitude for farm-work. " The saints in heaven know I have
worked hard enough all my life not to be afflicted with a son
who is ' raezzo-matto ' (half-crazy). Figure to yourself, he is
not idle, but he does more harm than good when he works in
the fields, for he scarcely knows corn from 'canne' (canes)
and would plant vines at midsummer, with his head so full of
his everlasting music I "

"But Gian Lorenzo is a good lad, Pippo ; he does n't drink
OT play cards in the caflFc," his wife would plead ; her motherly
heart proud of her handsome boy, though her practical peasant-
mind deplored his unlucky musical tendency, which she, in
common with all the village, considered a downright l^aw in his
intelligence.

**0h, yes! good enough; so was San' Giuseppe good, but
he had to be a carpenter all the same," grumbled exasperated
Sor' Filippo.

"Eh, be! what would you? One must have patience,"
sympathized the neighbors- — with that becoming resignation with
which we regard our friends' misfortunes. " As you say, it is
surely a trial from Heaven that one's boy should take more
kindly to writing black notes on a sheet of paper than to the
proper duties of life." Even the good old " curato " shook his
head dubiously over his former pupil's tendencies, reproaching
himself in his conscientious mind that he had ever taught the
lad any music ; ignoring the fact that talent^ like murder, will
out f

Only one person in the whole of " Val-di-Collina " (that
most practical village with the most romantic name) believed
in Gian Lorenzo utterly and absolutely, and defended him
warmly against every one. Needless to say it was a woman.
A man might defend his friend bravely through sneers of con-
tempt^ but it is the harder part to stand by a man through
ridicule ; and here the mother-instinct, dormant in every true
woman, rises up lion-like to defend the man she loves.

Those who sneered at Gian Lorenzo before Annunziata
Laozi scarcely recognized the usually timid girl, with the soft
dark eyes and gentle voice, in this stately young goddess, who

The Maestrino's Christmas.

[Dec,

confronted them with flashing eyes and blazing cheeks, all
her young beauty enhanced by generous indignation, which
inspired her to a demonstrativeness so foreign to her nature. " II
Maestrino will never make a farmer, but he is not such a fool
as you might think," said the gossips, after an unsuccessful tilt
with Annunziata ; " for he has made the prettiest girl in the
village fall in love with him ! "

" Madonna mia 1 but they make a handsome couple ! " ejacu-
lated a spiteful old crone, as the two passed her door. " A
pity they will end in the poor-house — he with his head in the
clouds, and she proud as the queen herself. Well, well, my
proud beauty, you will probably work for both yourself and
your ne'er-do-well husband when you do get married!"

And indeed they were a handsome couple, who wandered
through the vine- terraces that Sunday morning after Mass at
the village church, truly worthy of a land of classic beauty.
Annunziata was tall and slender as a lily ; her exquisitely
chiselled features and perfect complexion, crowned by regal
coils of dark hair^ which seemed almost too heavy for the
small, shape!y head. No tawdry ornaments or bright colors
marred the girl's beauty. She wore only the Sunday dress of
the Piedmontese peasant, while the lace veil she had worn
over her head at Mass hung lightly aroynd her shoulders,
revealing the beautiful turn of head and throat; her whole
carriage being the perfection of grace which many a high-bred
dame might envy.

Gian Lorenzo was tall but slightly built, and fair, as the
Piedmontese so often are ; his light hair and blue eyes con-
trasting strangely with the tan of an outdoor life. Those gray-
blue eyes of his — the most striking feature in his face — some-
what far apart, and with a curious dreaminess in their expres-
sion, were the only indication of the born musician visible
about this hardy son of the soil ; for the artist hands, sensi-
tive and well-formed, were stretched and hardened by con-
stant toil. Sensitive, like ail true artists, the young man had
withdrawn more and more into himself because of ridicule and
opposition. He never spoke to any one of the art which was his
joy; and only the dark- haired girl by his side knew Gian
Lorenzo's inmost hopes and aspirations. . . . Together they
walked along the " primrose path of dalliance," with youth
.ind love and hope between them; to be envied, perhaps*

1903.]

The Maestrino's Christmas.

341

though they lived in a land of dreams, soon to be dispelled
by stern realities.

"Don't fear, Annunziata mia, but that I will make a name
some day," said the young lover with all the confidence of
youth. "There is always a place for good music in the world;
so Avhy should I not succeed ? Oh, I know it ; I can't explain
it, but I feel it within me — the power to put into notes the
harmonies that ring in my ears; sometimes in the night, some-
times at dawning; even out there at midday in the vineyards,
till I must rise and write them there and then. And some day
the world will hear the message, for the sweet spirit of music
cannot be hidden, even though they should stop their ears and
try to silence me. But they shall nevet crush me. I will be
heard, I luill succeed, if the whole world is against me but
you, sweetheart. Enough if you believe in me, anima mia."

He had spoken low but passionately; and a sudden kind-
ling lighted up the dreamy eyes. His emotion half startled
A^nnunziata, and she looked up at him wonderingly and
admiringly; but all his accustomed gentleness returned, as he
bent towards the girl half wistfully for her answer.

"Nino mio," she whispered, "you know I believe in you!
W^hcn I cease to believe in you, you can cease to love me !
See now, I stake what is more to me than life on my belief
in you."

He was satisfied; and they went on gaily building their
air-castles, as young people will, in architecture whose soar-
''ig pinnacles rivalled the snowy mountain-peaks above them.
"I shall have my opportunity when I go to Milan," he
continued ; " for then I can see the great world and hear its
niusic. There it is not petty like our narrow village (so
thought the lad in his young enthusiasm), and there, surely,
'**rtune will come, and then we shall be so happy, amore mio,
you and I 1 "

" But whtn will you go to Milan, Nino ? " questioned
^"nunziata.

" Next autumn, when I go to serve my time in the army,"

* replied. But the girl shrank back, her hand tightening on

"'s. "No, no, don't speak of it yet," she murmured, tears

* ''^^dy gathering in her beautiful dark eyes. " How can I do

^"^'^hout seeing you for three long years ? And if there should

war, Nino, you might be killed like Sora Nana's son?"

343

The Maestrino's Christmas.

[Dec,

" Non dubitt (don't fear). There will be no war ; la patna.
has learnt a lesson out there in Africa, that Italia cannot spread
her wings till she has served her time at nation-making; till
she has peace at home. No, sweetheart, you will see me back
safe and sound ; not only that, but successful. Think of that,
Annunziata, and it will give you courage! Su, amore mio ?
parting is inevitable, and even if you could, would you keep
me back from the road of success 1 — keep me here in this vil-
lage where they all despise me; no, even worse, think me a
fool and an idiot ? "

He spoke bitterly, even though it was his birthplace ; but
she knew he was right. Young as she was, Annunziata under-
stood him ; and woman-like, hid her own sorrow to smile up
bravely in his face.

" Bella sposina raia, I will come to claim you, Christmas
three years from now, when my service is over ; not for the
wife of the ne'er-do-well you so bravely defended, but a man
who is successful. Ecco ! 'Nunziata, I swear it I Remember,
Christmas three years from now ! If I do not come for you,
it will be because I have forgotten you." (At which joke
they both laughed, real as was their grief.) The lad threw
back his head with a determined gesture which became him
oddly, making his sweetheart feel as if a strange new person- ■
ality had come in gentle Nino's place. I

They were brave words enough, but words that seemed
unlikely of fulfilment when three months later the group of
fresh -faced village lads, Gian Lorenzo among them, left their
mountain home to take the first plunge into the world by
serving in the army. ^^H

A recruit's life is anything but an easy one, full of hard
knocks and corners ; and its rigid discipline could not fail to
be irksome to an artist- nature like the young musician's. But
strange to say, the lad took to it wonderfully; his hard life in
the mountains had inured him to every kind of fatigue, and
the military duties interested him. Away from the brutal
frankness of his relations and village tormentors, and the agri-
cultural work he hated, Gian Lorenzo was another being. His
natural sunniness of disposition reasserted itself, and his quick
willingness and ability won the young soldier the liking of his
officers ; while his good nature made him a favorite among
the men not of the tougher sort. Though naturally quiet, the

1903.] The maestrinO's Christmas. 343

lad was neither coward nor weakling, as he promptly convinced
any bully who presumed on his gentleness ; and thanks to his
own good principles and his absorbing passion for music, he
remained unscathed by many dangers of barrack • life.

In his rare leisure moments Gian Lorenzo could work
unmolested at his music. True, a few laughed at him at first ;
and the inevitable nickname of " II Maestrino " stuck to him ;
but here (unlike Val-di-Collina) his artistic proclivities won
him far more respect than ridicule. It is the hardest thing in
the world to believe in yourself, after having been constantly
and frankly assured from childhood upwards that you are an
utter failure; and the fact that this budding genius survived
the storm and still clung to his music, was a sure proof the
"real stuff" was in him.

Here too, in Milan, Gian Lorenzo gratified his hungry
desire for music. There was always the fine military band of
the cavalry regiment (the only reprimands and punishments
the lad ever earned being for forgetting discipline for an
instant at drill or parade when the sound of the band practis-
ing carried him blissfully away from his immediate surround-
ings) ; then there was the music in the parks ; and, above all,
a few blissful holiday nights at the opera — that beau ideal of
Gian Lorenzo's ambitions, when he could spare enough " soldi "
for three hours of perfect paradise in the uppermost gallery of
La Scala ; for in Italy the military are admitted at half price.

The bandmaster of the regiment, astonished at the coun-
try lad's rare gift of musical composition, helped him in the
study of music till Gian Lorenzo passed out of the sphere
of his abilities ; and then introduced him to an old musician,
who, though living on a few poorly-paid lessons, freely assisted
him in mastering harmony and counterpoint.

In his letters to Annunziata there was always a bright note
of hopefulness; and the opera which was to bring him such
fame and success was spoken of between these two foolish
young people as a thing already beyond doubt, which only
needed time for its realization, for he had begun to work at it
in earnest. Nothing, Gian Lorenzo vowed, would induce him,
on the completion of his time in the army, to return to the
paternal acres till he was in some degree successful. Until
fortune came with the completion of the opera he would rather
engage in the most menial jobs to keep soul and body to-

M4 The Maestrino's Christmas, [Dec,

th4n ^ back to that hated village, to be once more a
— butt tor the sneers of the rustic community. He had written
H^4vet«l small musical compositions which were paid for ; and
^■||M&>l«Qt of being able to turn these out in abundance, did
^Mrt <ear being ever in want,

'* Failenia, amore mio," the young man wrote to his sweet-
hMrt lovingly ; " always that miserable word, ' pazienza.' We

I in Italy use it too much, and any one but an angel like you^
carina, would have wearied of it and of me long ago. Oh t
they thought me stupid in Val-di-Collina ; but I was not blind,
to Mt how many wanted 'la bella mia.* How Michele's sharp
tortgur would soften itself to compliments; and Carlo Manetti's
black eyes fix her with a hungry gaze till I could have killed him
as he stood; or that heavy-fisted farmer PerelH would boast of
hU lauds and riches in hopes of tempting the loveliest 'ragazza'
in all the valley ! Not one of them but what would be glad to
jee me worsted. And yet, poor as I am, and unsuccessful, my
lutiful sweetheart is mine, mine / It is love's triumph,
Annunziata; surely the Madonna has inspired you to know
that ttif heart will ever give you more devotion. Without your
faith in me, your courage for me, fate would have crushed me
long ago; a"d for your sake I must win not failure but
success."

So time went on ; Annunziata always with the woman's harder
I part of waiting, Gtan Lorenzo hoping and working hard at the
cherished opera. He had chosen the theme of a simple story
of the sea — a romance of the fisher-folk; full of human interest
and pathos — and woven his subtle harmonies about it till it
■ took shape definite enough to satisfy its author's intensely
critical sense of harmony. For Gian Lorenzo knew when he
was at his best and worst; a too-abrupt shading off of the
harmonies, an almost imperceptible break in the rhythm, offended
his ear so much that often a whole passage or recitative had
to be ruthlessly sacrificed and rewritten.

Outside his military duties the young soldier lived in a
world of his own. He was wrapped up in his music and paid
little attention to secular events; even when his comrades
gossiped around him, discussing the news of the day. Rumors
were always circulating of impending trouble to be caused by
the Socialists (who have such a strongly tenacious grip of power
*in the metropolis of the north); but as yet they were but

^903.]

The Maestrino's Christmas.

I
I

mutterings, little heeded when the sky is cloudless, and almost
accepted as a matter of course.

So when the long- threatened storm of a Socialist rising
burst over Milan one bright May morning with sharp and
pitiless fury, inflaming that latent demon, the blind rage of a
populace, to deeds of impotent violence, the attitude of people
and military was one of bewildered astonishment! "Wolf I
wolf!" had been called too long, rendering the awakening
proportionately bitter.

The action of the revolters was short and fiery. Before the
peaceful inhabitants had fairly awakened to the sense of immi-
nent danger martial law was proclaimed, and five days of
violence had come and gone, destroying life and property with
equal recklessness. Soon, however, the rising was reduced to
impotence, stamped out by the iron heel of overwhelming
military force ; but in the crushing process many promising
young lives were cut short on either side, seemingly to no
purpose. Some on the one side, smarting under the sense of
rea.1 wrongs, inflamed by demagogues who took care to keep
their own persons out of danger ; on the other young soldiers,
"ttle more than boys, standing like targets to be shot at.
Regiments were called out to patrol the city; but as the brief
'^*gn of terror ended it seemed as if Gian Lorenzo's regiment
**'"<iuld escape. Just at the last moment, however, the summons
^^■tne from headquarters; Company C of the Novara Cavalry
•J^g ordered to night duty at what had been one of the most
***sturbed quarters in the brief hour of fighting.

However, the crisis had passed. Blood had been let ; and

'*'"*th the realization of its futility, the fury of sudden passion

^rnt itself out as swiftly as it was enkindled. Street encounters

^^'^^re few and far between, and but a few stray shots were

^ ^changed. Only as the spring night changed into day a band

^f insurgents, cleverly feigning drunkenness, made a sudden

*'*4sh on the little company of soldiers, who, worn out with

^hc night of enforced inaction, had somewhat relaxed their

Vigilance. In an instant the quiet street was aroused by the

sharp interchange of shots resounding through the stillness.

The trained discipline of the soldiers made it the affair of a

few moments to end the fierce onslaught ; and in the cold gray

dawn there was silence again, only two or three still figures

lying on the stones to testify that there had been a struggle.

346 THE MAESTRINO'S CHRISTMAS, [Dec,

Without any of the outward honor and glory of a battle-
field, not even in the heat of an engagement, Giah Lorenzo
passed through his baptism of fire, shot down in the darkness
by the chance pistol-shot of some desperate ruffian. Poor young
Maestrino ! . . . He was unsuccessful to the end ; in spite
of all his high ideals, and the future in which he had stored all
his hopes and aspirations. Yet, notwithstanding the unfinished
opera, the ruined career, and the young girl far away in the
mountains, whose heart would be breaking with this morning's
fatal work, there was a hopeful look on the lad's face that it
had never worn in the old days at VaUdi-Collina, as they
carried him to the military hospital, in hopes that the faint
flicker of lite might be revived.

But the surgeons shook their heads silently. It was not
the flesh-wound, dangerous as it was, which had wrought the
harm, but the blow on the head as he had fallen from bis
horse on the stone pavement. "The heads of these mountain
contadini are hard enough in all conscience," said the head
surgeon, " but not sufficiently so to stand such a concussion.
The fact that this lad is still living shows that he has con-
siderable powers of resistance. He will very likely not arouse
from the state of lethargy; and better he should not do so,
* povero diavolo ' " (shrugging his shoulders significantly), " for
that blow on the head will probably leave him a hopeless idiot ! "
And the busy doctor passed on to another case.

But life and death alike were matters of little moment to
Gian Lorenzo, as he lay there heavily in a death-like stupor;
hovering for nights and days on the dim borderland till youth
and strength triumphed, and life reasserted itself in the shape
of raging fever. Even more pitiful than stupor was this wild
delirium of waking. Pain-racked and burning with the fire
which was slowly sapping his vitality, the lad tossed restlessly
to and fro, muttering incoherent sentences, and hoarsely hum-
ming scraps of music, till the overtaxed body yielded to a brief
interval of quiet, only to be succeeded by a fresh access of
wandering.

These disjointed outpourings were never violent or painful
to listen to, poor boy ! for there were no dark chapters in that
short life to be revealed. Only the perpetual monotonous bur-
den was " the opera " — always the opera — its plot, its setting,
its success or failure. Sometimes he was composing it, some-

19«>3.]

The Maestrino's Christmas,

347

t\itv«s repeating whole recitatives from it, sometimes — and these

N^efe the most pitiful — it had been produced and failed utterly,

wVven the poor disordered brain would give way to blank despair.

If those who loved him had been near it would have torn their

hearts; even the hospital doctors and attendants, hardened to

all kinds of pain and misery, stopped to watch Gian Lorenzo

curiously, wondering if this was permanent madness, or only a

phase of delirious fancy. Not a word did he ever speak of

his old life or of Annunziata. But as he grew weaker a change

came, and he begged ceaselessly and continuously for the opera

to be brought to him that he might finish it.

One day a celebrated brain specialist was visiting the hos>
pital', and insisted on seeing this strange case. As usual, the
poor weak voice was reiterating its petition ; appealing to
every passer-by: "Why will they not let me have my opera?
There is only so tittle to finish ; only the final aria and chorus,
and it is done. And it must be finished by Christmas I
Christmas ! I can't remember why ; I only know it must be
done by then. Signor mio (addressing the doctor), you look
kind ; have compassion on me and tell them to bring me my
opera ! Don't let them hide it from me any longer. It is not
theirs ; it is mine, for I wrote every note of it. It is no use
to them, for they cannot finish it, while , . . The melodies
are here (passing his hand restlessly over his throbbing fore-
head), piercing and clamoring to be let out; and if I do not
write them they will kill me, and I will die without finishing
it." And the weak voice sank into a wail of despair, which
touched the physician's heart.

The great brain specialist, whose opinion was sought so far
and wide, might have been carved for a figure of strength as
he stood there by Gian Lorenzo's bedside in a concentration
of thought, his keen gaze fixed intently on the boy's face.
He was a small man considerably under the medium height,
but so full of innate dignity that people instinctively looked
up to him and obeyed him, • His closely-cropped iron-gray
hair and fierce gray moustache, combined with a square-cut
chin, gave a somewhat grim and severe expression to his face
in repose. But the big moustache covered the kindest mouth
in the world; and when he turned his great dark eyes, like
search-lights, full and suddenly upon one, the effect was mag-
netic. There flashed lightning-like glances, brightly intelligent

vol, LXXVIIJ.— 23

348

The Maesthtno's Christmas.

[Dec,

and comprehensive, from eyes too large for the small face;
and looking into their luminous depths, one recognized it was
a face to trust.

Hard and opinionated, some of Dr. Carocci's colleagues called
him — they knew him least; pitiless indeed he was to self-com-
placent mediocrity, but his patients told another story. Chil-
dren and animals made instinctively for him, and many a poor
wrecked brain owed its restoration to health to his untiring skill*

So long and silently did he stand by the bedside that the
hospital doctor, weary of wailing, took courage to speak; say-
ing lightly; "Curious business, isn't it, professor, that this
contadino's madness should take the form of believing he has
composed an opera ? They must allow the soldiers to hear
too much music here in Milan. Well, as you see, there is lit-
tie to be done here. Shall we go ? " ■

Ignoring the question, the specialist turned on the doctor
with the abruptness which was apt to awe his subordinates,
"To what regiment does this man belong? I wish to make
inquiries about him " ; and noting down Gian Lorenzo's name
and regiment he moved away, when once more the poor lad's
pitiful appeal was reiterated : " My opera ! You will make
them bring me my opera?" Not brusquely, as he had
answered the doctor, but gently as one might speak to a sick
child, the great physician laid hts hand soothingly on the boy's
forehead. " Non dubiti, figlio mio ; have a little patience and
thou shalt have thy opera, I promise thee," — *' that is to say,
if it is in existence," he murmured to himself.

WtU aware of the difficulties to be encountered in regions
where " red tape " is common, Dr. Carocci trusted to no
inquiries ; but being a man of prompt action, went directly
from the hospital to the barracks of the Novara Cavalry and
asked for the officer in command. His name was enough to
secure him respect and attention ; and after hearing his errand
the bandmaster, the sergeant, and several soldiers of Gian
Lorenzo's company were sent for; all of whom confirmed the
fact that " II Maestrino " was constantly writing music. " In-
deed," said the honest bandmaster, in a burst of confidence
over his favorite, " quel povero ragazzo (that poor boy) often
wrote me pieces for the band, and they were always well
received. Nothing more natural than that he should have
written an opera, for he could well do it, eh, altrot"

1903.] The Maestrin&s Christmas. 349

A search among the young soldier's poor belongings finally
brought to light a roll of music which, when opened, turned
out to be the cherished opera. " Worthless or not, the poor
lad shall finish it; at any rate, if it does not cure him he will
die more peacefully for having seen it," said the professor, as
he carried it away in triumph to the hospital.

The patient's condition had become more serious than ever
in his absence, and the instant the physician saw him he
realized that no time was to be lost.

"Do you not think it will kill him outright, professor, the
effort of exercising the brain in a state of such prostration ? "
queried a doctor who had been in attendance.

" The result is in God's hands, not ours, sir," returned the
specialist ; " but under Him I mean to fight the case, and
shall certainly use the only means in my power to do so.
Were the brain in a normal condition this course of action
would be fatal; as it is I am assured that, given his strength
holds out, the patient's only chance of life lies in finishing his
opera."

At sight of the precious document Gian Lorenzo's face lit
up, and with a glad cry of joy he tried to reach it — only to
fall back helplessly on the pillows. But one of the physician's
strong arms was instantly around him, supporting him, while
the other hand opened the music and found the unfinished
page. Then, motioning to the attendant, he administered a
powerful stimulant. It was pitiful to watch the effort of the
weak body striving to answer the brain's incentive, as the lad
strove to take the pencil in his nerveless grasp. The usual
positions were reversed : the brain, abnormally active, acting
without an effort; the body helpless to comply with it. As
the pencil dropped from his hand Gian Lorenzo looked up to
the doctor with an almost animal-like look of dumb suffering.
And Dr. Carocci understood. Enclosing the lad's thin hand
completely within his firm and sinewy one, he let it guide him
note by note; pausing every now and then, when the patient's
small stock of strength gave out, to moisten the blue lips with
cordial.

Slowly but accurately pages were filled with the magic
notes, which seemed to flow spontaneously from the poor boy's
brain. Not a word was spoken. It was like a case of thought-
reading, where all power of action is transmitted to another.

The MAESTRfNo's Christmas.

[Dec,

It Wiy previous knowledge or understanding on the
itllwr^l p^ft; Gian Lorenzo's brain conceiving the idea, the
(pi^yitrtin^ hind carrying it out. Finally there came a pause,
«t it llk« sick brain had suddenly refused its work ; and the
^Ktor instantly profited by it to end the mental and physical
IttA^H which he perceived had become critical.

A yT*y shadow was spreading over the face; every drop
Vkf Wood seemed to have left the body, and in another moment
1^ frAtl chain of life might snap. The lad had gradually sunk
kow«r even with the support of the strong arm ; and by this
tiwt) Professor Carocci was half-kneeling by the bedside. He
^•ntly drew the book away, whispering, " Enough for the
pr^aent, figlio mio ; you will finish the rest when you are
batlcr," It was just in time; for, as the words passed his
llp», Gian Lorenzo fell back in his arms, apparently lifeless.
This, then, was the end of the struggle; and Death, not the
Ijrim little doctor, had won the victory. Another would have
given up the case as hopeless ; not so Professor Carocci. I

Every possible means known to science were employed to
revive the feeble spark of life. As the slow minutes passed he
persevered obstinately, lips and jaw set like a vice; never
relaxing his vigilance, but grimly, patiently fighting the fight
with death. At last his efTorts seemed likely to be rewarded ;
the powerful remedies began to take effect, and breathing
became perceptible. A few hours afterwards he was able to
leave Gian Lorenzo sleeping, secure that his patient was out
of the immediate clutches of death ; and giving orders that no
one should talk to him under any circumstances.

As soon as possible the physician returned, for he was
curious to note if with returning strength and consciousness
there would be — as he feared — ^pcrmanent injury to the brain
of his strange young patient. The young man still appeared
intensely weak, but his color was more natural, and there was
every sign of perfect intelligence in the wondering blue eyes
he lifted up to the specialist's face. " Where am I ? " he asked,
bewildered. " Have I been ill ? "

*'You are in the military hospital, where you have been
ill with brain fever exactly five weeks," replied Dr. Carocci
succinctly ; knowing that the quickest way to aid recovery is
to put the mind of the patient at rest. " They brought you
here, together with some other wounded soldiers, from the bar-

1903.]

- r^ '~ *•< »

The Maestrtno's Christmas,

351

ricades, on the night of the May riots. But you are on the
way to mend now ; and will probably be able to return to the
barracks in a few weeks."

"The barracks?" said Gian Lorenzo perplexedly; "was I
j serving my time as a soldier? I don't remember any riots.
Indeed, I don't seem able to remember anything ; though I
have been trying, trying ever since I awoke ! " And the old
troubled, feverish look came over his face.

" Don't try to, on any account," said the physician empha-
tically. ** I can tell you as much as you need know for the
present; when you are stronger you can think. You had been
with the regiment of Novara Cavalry ; and I understand your
term was nearly expired when the Socialist rising occurred'
Your company was on night duty and you happened to be one
of the first victims shot down in an encounter. The wound
itself was not dangerous; but in falling you received a blow
on the head which only by the mercy of God did not kill you
instantly, but resulted in an attack of fever which not one man
in a thousand would have come through. You realize now,
perhaps, why you cannot remember things better. But for the
present you must not talk any more, nor hear talking, ."

Gian Lorenzo was an obedient patient, for in the languor
of convalescence thought proved absolute pain. He was con-
tent to be quiescent in the realization of returning health ; but
now and then, as his vigorous young strength came back, a
sharp pang of apprehension for the future shot across him.

"What are you thinking of as you lie there so quietly?"
questioned Dr. Carocci one day, unexpectedly, when visiting
his patient.

"Music, doctor," replied Gian Lorenzo promptly; "I have
always loved it. All day long I keep stringing together the
harmonies which come into my head, and I would write them
if I could. Then a strange dream comes to me continually " ;
he spoke hesitatingly, flushing slightly. It did not come easily
to the lad to speak of his own thoughts and feelings; but the
doctor's kind eyes, attentively fixed on him, seemed in some
way to encourage and reassure him. It was a curious sympa-
thy that had arisen between the distinguished specialist, usually
so unapproachable, and the humble young soldier. They seemed
to understand each other. Gian Lorenzo, instead of being over-
awed, felt a strange confidence in the stern-faced little physi-

352 The Maestrino's Christmas. [Dec,

cian ; while Dr. Carocci, on his part, felt not only interested
but attracted to the boy, whom he realized was no ordinary
character, — " I seem to have been always writing an opera ; I
can think out all its parts clearly and distinctly up to a cer-
tain point, when suddenly there comes a break and I can go
no further. Physical force seems to prevent me, though the
broken mslodies still hammer on my brain, and the black notes
dance before my eyes till they fairly blind me with pain. But
finally-:— I do not know how — some kind agency intervenes
between me and the obstacle which prevents my work, helping
ms to finish it, though with an infinite effort. For in the
dream the opera is always finished. . . . Then — I wake
with a start, and it is all gone, and I am lying here like a
useless log, without an opera or a brain, without even a
memory ! " And Gian Lorenzo sighed drearily.

For a few moments there was silence ; till the physician,
leaning forward, began to speak, quietly yet impressively, in
his deep, full tones: "It is no dream; it is reality. Listen
and you will understand. From the beginning of your illness
this opera was the incessant subject of your wanderings. Night
and day you dwelt on it, begging every one to bring it to
you ; but no attention was paid, as it was only considered a
curious phase of delirium. When I first saw you I realized
that there might be something more in it than the mere
wanderings of unconsciousness. I made inquiries at the barracks,
and, thanks to an old friend of yours — the bandmaster — dis-
covered the famous opera. It was the only chance — though a
slight one — of saving your life and reason to let you attempt
finishing it; but, still in a state of unconsciousness, you did
so; but the effort very nearly cost you your life. Now it
remains to be seen what fame this dearly-bought masterpiece
is to bring its composer!" He concluded lightly, not wishing
to over-excite his patient. But Gian Lorenzo seem£d scarcely
to have heard the ending; his eyes, dim with emotion, were
fixed on the doctor's face.

"Then it is to you, doctor, that I owe my life; you were
the good angel who came to deliver me, and youts was the
hand that rescued me from that dream of horror which was no
dream. To think that you should have taken all that trouble
— a distinguished professor like you — for a poor peasant who
most of the world would call half-witted, who has even

Taestrino's Christmas.

353

forgotten his own life and identity ! Oh ! I know it makes you
angry, but I must say it, How can I ever thank you ? "

"Per carita!" said Carocci shortly, in his most forbidding
manner, '* I detest thanks, and that is an end of the matter.
I did it merely in the interests of science, — and of music ! For
the rest, ray boy," his rare smile crossing his grave face and
leaving it as stern as before, " I know a little of men by this
time, and there is no necessity of words from you ! By the
way, young man, you seem to have little curiosity about tliis
work of yours, which I imagined you would be wild with
anxiety to resume. How do you know but that, in my
ignorance, I might have consigned it to the waste-paper basket,
or even stolen it to make my own fortune, as I might well
have done ? "

The lad smiled wistfully. " I had n't any more courage
about it, doctor; I know it must be worthless. How could
any one out of their senses compose music ? It will be a con-
fusion as great as my brain was ; and is yet," he said despon*
dently. " It seems to me music has been my curse instead of
ray blessing."

"On the contrary, persons out of their senses are occasionally
capable of writing or composing much more brilliantly than
when in them," observed the professor drily. *• In this case, at
any rate, I must tell you that your opera is anything but worth-
less ! I myself know nothing of music ; but I took it to the
Maestro Bianchi (as you know, our greatest living musician).
The maestro is no flatterer of undiscovered genius, and frank
to bluntncss; but these were his words concerning it: ' Caro
mio, this would be a success if produced, for it is fttusic /
Where did you discover it ? I would like to shake hands with
the man who wrote it; there is an intermezzo in it I would
give some years of my life to have composed! ' Is that enough
to satisfy you of its worth ? When you are better you shall see
the maestro yourself and he may help you with his advice."

Some days after this there were visitors at the hospital for
Gian Lorenzo. In hopes that the sight of them might possibly
recall his old life, and fill up the past which still remained a
blank to the young musician, Dr, Carocci had sent to Val-di-
Collina for his parents.

Immediately on seeing him, the lad's mother rushed upon
him with a torrent of talk, kisses, and lamentations; the father

354

THE Maestrino's Christmas.

[Dec,

meanwhile standing sheepishly by. " Figlio mio, benedetto !
What have they done to thee ? They have half killed thee
between them all, these miserable soldiers and doctors. But
ecco, la mamma and il babbo (father) have come to see thee !
Madonna mia santa! how thin he is — he that was always so
handsome, and such a good lad too, if he did think of naught
but that blessed music I Nino, tell me, thou hast not forgot-
ten la mamma ? What is it ? Thou lookest at me like a
stranger! Say thou hast not forgotten thy own mother!" she
pleaded piteously ; for though he suffered her caresses pas-
sively, there was no sign of recognition, and the lad made no
effort to return them. " Signer Dottore, is it possible ? how
could this thing have happened to him ? My Nino is not
mad ; his mind is sensible, and yet he has forgotten his father
and mother ; forgotten even that poor child Annunziata, who
is breaking her heart for him." ,

"No, I cannot remember, try as I will." And Gian Loren-
zo looked, troubled and perplexedly, from one to the other.
"It is no use deceiving thee; I have forgotten everything,
everything, up to the time of my illness, and I cannot remem-
ber even to have seen thee before/' he said at last desper-
ately.

" Figlio mio ! wilt thou tell me thou hast forgotten her too —
Annunziata^ that thou lovedst so much ? " Her voice rose
shrilly with emotion and excitement as she continued to pour
out a voluble torrent of laments and reproaches.

"Annunziata? Who is Annunziata ?" asked the lad weari-
ly, utterly exhausted with the strain of their presence and the
useless eflFort of remembrance; an access of fever showing itself
in his flushed face and heightened temperature.

" Did 1 not tell thee the lad was always ' mezzo-matto,' "
whispered his father audibly and roughly. " Come, mother, it
is no use; you must leave him to the dottori, who can look
after him."

But the poor woman made no reply. She had broken into
a fit of hopeless and subdued weeping. Dr. Carocci, irritated
at the failure of his plan and fearing more harm had been
done than good, hurried them relentlessly away,

"You must not grieve yourself so much, my good woman,"
he said, when they were outside. "Time may mend your
son's mind, and his memory will come back sooner or later.

1903.] The Maestrino's Christmas. 355

In the meantime it is useless to worry him; he must be let
alone 1 "

" Va bene I it is easy talking, but he always was mezzo-
matto (half crazy) and he always will be; and how is one to
do with such a burden ? " grumbled the father.

" Diavolo 1 man ; he is no more mezzo-matto than you
and 1 1 " blazed out the professor, with a gleam of sudden
anger in his search- light eyes which would have disconcerted
a more courageous person than Sor' Filippo. "Do not fear,
your son is not likely to be a burden on your shoulders. He
has written an opera, I tell you, that will bring him fame and
fortune. In a few weeks Milan will be ringing with it; and
then perhaps, when you hear men talking with respect of the
famous young composer, you may not be quite so ashamed of
the mezzo>matto." The physician spoke with fine irony; but
the rustic mind took it literally.

"Did you say he would make money with that rubbishy
music ? " questioned old Filippo, incredulously ; shrewdly con-
sidering if after all his unsuccessful son might have his mar-
ket value.

" If he does so, and were I in his place, you would get lit-
tle good of it in return for your hardness — you hard-fisted old
miser," said Dr. Carocci, frowning and turning on his heel
contemptuously, leaving the astonished rustic to gaze after
him in open-mouthed wonder.

"I was a fool to make such a preposterous blunder,"
reflected the physician irritably as he returned to his patient,
whom he found in a state of feverish anxiety and depression.
Unconsciously to himself, this bit of " Val-di-CoUina" frank-
ness had had its usual effect of depressing Gian Lorenzo deep-
ly. " Just as I expected ! " he said grimly. " You have been
working yourself into a fever again with this business of try-
ing to remember and worrying about the future. Now take
my advice as a friend, and live in the present. Your case is
an unusual but not an unknown one ; and all you have gone
through is quite sufficient to account for it. I do not say for
certain^ mind; but in my opinion there is every probability
that in some unexpected, sudden emotion of any sort your
memory may return. Meanwhile your future is settled for
you. Maestro Bianchi wishes you to stay with him till the
opera is revised; then with his influence you can arrange for

356

The Maestrino's Christmas.

[Dec..;

its production as soon as possible. After that ... let us
hope we shall all be bowing before you, Val-di-Collina first
of all " (for the keen-sighted physician had realized from this
glimpse of his parents what the village attitude must have
been to Gian Lorenzo, and its effect upon his sensitive
nature).

" You have been too good to me, doctor ; too good, though
I must not say it ! " said the lad gratefully. "In one thing, at
least, I have been successful, when my illness has brought me
a friend like you ! "

Meanwhile his parents returned home ; and with the obstinate
stupidity of ignorance openly lamented their son as hopelessly
mad. His father, apparently unable to formulate any other
idea, doggedly repeated his assertion : Gian Lorenzo was always
mezzo-matto; now he is worse, and between ourselves (darkly)
I think that gran signore of a doctor, who is superbo (proud)
as the devil himself, has cast his great black evil eye upon the
'ad ! How arrabiati (irritable) these gran signori are ! Santa
Pazienza ! that is a man to be afraid of ; he made eyes enough
to eat me because I had the courage to say the truth about
my own son ! "

Meanwhile poor Annunziata was passing through a fiery
ordeal of suffering, for Gian Lorenzo's mother made her the
recipient of her confidence, sparing the girl nothing, with the
unconscious pitilessness of the poor. "Well, well, it is useless,
ragazza mia," she concluded ; " you might just as well marry
Michele there, who wants you ; for my poor boy has forgotten
you completely ! Eh, what would you, when he does not know
his own mother? Figure to yourself what he said when I told
hitn Annunziata was breaking her heart for him. * Who is
Annunziata f '' But the poor girl heard no more. The tortur-
ing strain had been too great; and she fell in a dead faint at
the woTian's feet; but soon recovered and went home silently;
for, like her sweetheart, she was quiet and reserved.

Day after day she performed her round of duties mechani-
cally ; not idly weeping, but hiding her grief and mortification
proudly from careless eyes. Not a word of her trouble ever
escaped Annunziata, though her lips were set to patient endur-
ance and the soft color had faded from her beautiful young
face. Those unconsciously cruel words, "Who is Annunziata ? "
rang ceaselessly through her brain, like the requiem of hope ,

X9«3]

THE Maestrino's Christmas.

357

and sometimes during the sleepless nights she had to stop her
e3.rs to shut them out !

The young girl spent her hours of leisure at the shrine of
Our Lady of Dolors; for there only the poor child found
temporary peace. "Madonna mia ! make him successful; send
Kim his desire, even if he has forgotten me; make him happy,
even if I must bear the grief!" was her ceaseless prayer.
" Thou who hast felt the Seven Swords of Sorrow, make my
one poor sword less terrible to bear ! Pray for him, Maria
Sanlissima; pray that this may not be sent us because he for-
got to say, ' Se Dio vuole' (If God wills it), when he promised
us such success before he went away. He was so young and
confident. Madonna mia! he did not stop to think; but he
was so good always! "

For in her simplicity the girl could find no fault in her
lover to account for this heavy visitation, except that in his
youthful confidence God had been considered too little in the
shaping of his plans.

It was nearly Christmas, and Gian Lorenzo, now well and
strong again, had been working hard in putting the opera into
shape, and, with the influence of Maestro Bianchi, it was to be
produced on the inauguration of the opera season (December
23). As the doctor had predicted, the walls of Milan were
placarded with it: " Fior' di Mare — Opera Nuovissima" (Flower
of the Sea — New Opera), by the Maestro Gian Lorenzo. The
talk in music circles, and, in fact, all over the city, was ex-
clusively of the new opera, by the unknown composer, which
pfomised an unqualified success. After the last rehearsals had
^*'<en place its composer felt a little less apprehensive for the
result. He was anything but optimistic, poor lad ; but so
accustomed to failure and disappointment that success seemed
* thing unattainable. However, every one assured him there
w*s no chance of failure ; artists and musicians alike congratu-
lated him ; and at the end of the last rehearsal came a " Bravo ! "
"Ofn the Maestro Bianchi that sent the blood rushing to Gian
Lorenzo's face, for it seemed worth all the rest.

The eventful night came at last. The grand old theatre,
"■'Wch has seen so many triumphs and failures, was crowded
^fi every part with perhaps the most critical audience in the
world. Every one seemed more bustling and excited than the
young miestro, the principal person concerned, at least to out-

3S8 . THE MAESTRINO'S CHRISTMAS. [Dec,

ward seeming; and even Dr. Carocci, who had stopped to
exchange a few words with him at the wings, wondered at his
apparent sang froid.

" You will stay to hear j^our opera, doctor I " he said ; " I
shall like to feel you are here ; it will give me heart and
courage, even if it is a failure ! Besides, it is j^ou, by right,
who should bow to the public when they applaud the ' finale ' >
for it is yours, not mine 1 "

Carocci turned to regard him critically, as one would
examine some curious specimen.. " Finalmente (finally) it seems
they have managed to put a little conceit into your head.
Well, better late than never ; but how do you know the public
are going to applaud at all ? " he inquired severely.

" I don't know, doctor," laughed Gian Lorenzo ; " that is
why the courage is slowly oozing out of . my finger-tips. I
never knew I was such a coward before ! Well, ' Che sara
sara!' (What will be, will be). In a few bad half-hours it will
be over ; and, after all, it is the fortune of war ! " And he
threw back his head bravely with the gesture which had so
delighted poor Annunziata in the old days. There was some-
thing of the stuff heroes are made of about this gentle young
musician, which, combined with his modesty and personal
charm, made him irresistible. At least so thought Dr. Carocci,
a soft expression lighting up his grave face as he looked at
his favorite.

Just then the call-bell rang, and of the two the great phy-
sician seemed the most perturbed. Always laconic, he was
most so when moved. He could only take Gian Lorenzo's
hands in his hearty grasp, holding them as he said : " Cour-
age, figlio mio, and good fortune ! You have come through
worse than this before ! "

"Thank you, doctor, for the wish; and let us hope your
good fortune will counteract my bad luck ! " And he left the
lad smiling bravely, though he noted his hands were cold as
ice.

When the young conductor appeared before the public he
was well received ; his youthful, almost boyish appearance
made a favorable impression — in a word, he was " simpatico "
(sympathetic), and that goes far with an Italian audience.
But when the overture ended, and a few numbers of the opera
had been encored, the applause was universal. The simple,

I903-] THE MAESTRINO'S CHRISTMAS. 359

human interest of the story, wedded to such perfect harmonies,
seemed to go straight to the hearts of the audience, long
accustomed to artificial compositions straining only after effect.
As Bianchi had said, it was real music ; and this keenly-criti-
cal gathering instantly realized the fact. At the end of the
second act came the tragic consummation of the plot — the
death of the heroine, who, on seeing what she believes to be
the boat of her dead lover return empty and rudderless frt)m
the sea-fishing, casts herself over the cliffs in an access of
despair. After a soprano solo full of pathos the fisher- maiden
takes the fatal leap, and the stage remains almost in absolute
darkness, the outline of the cliffs and the stretch of troubled
waters scarcely visible against the night sky. Then comes the
"intermezzo," swelling, surging, crashing upwards, in a burst
of splendid orchestration — the myriad voices of the storm beat-
ing on the coast. Bold indeed were the thunder- harmonies,
expressive of the wild forces of nature mounting now into
fresh outbursts of fury. Again and again they break ; one
pathetically human motif soaring above and dominating their
fierce conflict. Then, gradually, with the perfection of the
scene-painter's art, the darkness fades into gray morning, and,
with recuxring intervals of tempest and calm, the storm is
spent. Wailing and throbbing come the soft cadences of the
violins as the wind-gusts lose their force. The opalescent dawn
spreads over the sky, and when day breaks in sunlit splendor
the harmonies lose their note of sadness, and one can hear
the waves dancing and rippling, lapping the feet of the dead
girl as she lies cast up on the beach.

A pin might have been heard to drop as the music died
almost imperceptibly into silence, but immediately afterwards
a roar of applause resounded over the house from pit to gal-
lery; not merely hand-clapping, but real enthusiasm, long and
continuous, till there was no mistaking the temper of the
audience. Gian Lorenzo was undoubtedly a success ! From his
box Dr. Carocci had been watching him intently. Though he
had never dreamt of such an ovation for the young musician,
he had dreaded all along the effect of this moment on the
highly-strung organization, already overwrought with excite-
ment. If the flood-gates of memory were unlocked at such a
time of emotion, the rush of thought and feeling would be
overwhelming, and he trembled for its physical effect.

36o The Maestrino's Christmas. [Dec,

All the physician's fears became redoubled as he observed
Gian Lorenzo's strange quietude. The young man seemed
unmoved by the frenzy of applause surging about him, and
the orchestra looked at their conductor curiously. Suddenly
he aroused himself as if with a powerful effort of will, put his
hand to his head for a second, then rose slowly to his feet
and faced the audience, steadying himself against the music-
stand as he bowed bravely and repeatedly in response to
the fresh outbursts of applause. Immediately afterwards he
disappeared, and the first look at his face as the doctor joined
Gian Lorenzo at the door convinced Carocci instantly that
his surmises had been correct. He was feverishly excited.

" Doctor, you were right I It has come back ; and I
remember everything, everything t And I must go back to
Annunziata as soon as possible 1"

Seeing that the lad was utterly exhausted mentally and
physically. Dr. Carocci took him by the arm, and leading him
into a little private room, made him hastily swallow a glass of
brandy.

" I am not ill, doctor ; I will be right immediately ; but
this has made me feel somehow like a stranger to myself;
and everything seems upset. After the first nervousness I felt
no more emotion of any kind. But when they kept on
applauding the intermezzo, a strange feeling of dizziness came
over me; something in my head seemed to snap, and then
. . . memory came back to me in a lightning-flash which
fairly took away my breath ; my boyhood in Val-di-CoUina,
the barrack-life here in Milan, and — my own dear love I Pro*
fessor, I could kill myself when I think of it, though I know
it was all unconscious. To think that I should have remem-
bered my music and yet forgotten her — forgotten my Annun-
ziata who waited for me so patiently ! For I promised her to
come for her this Christmas, rich and successful; instead of
that I am selfishly busy with my own affairs, leaving her
either to break her heart for me or utterly forget me (which
is nothing more than I deserve). Oh, do you not see why I
must go to her at once, this very night?"

Just then the door opened to admit Maestro Bianchi, who
advanced towards Gian Lorenzo with outstretched hands: "My
congratulations, figlio mio; there is no need to assure you that
your name is made ! I am an old man now, I shall not live

I903-] The Maestrin&s Christmas. 361

much longer; but to-night has renewed the recollections of
my youth, and I am glad to think I will leave our heritage of
music in hands like yours! Well, success is sweet — I know
how sweet — when one is young; and you deserve good for-
tune. But you are ill, lad ; this has been too much for you " ;
he stopped short, with an inquiring look at the maestrino's face.

" His memory has come back I " said Carocci, " that is all."
When the second call-bell for the last short act of the opera
rang imperatively, Gian Lorenzo started up ; but the physi-
cian laid a detaining hand on his arm ; and addressing the
elder composer said sharply: "Maestro, he cannot go on with
this to-night! I will not answer for the consequences if he
faces the strain of the public again ! "

" But I am perfectly able, and. I cannot disappoint the
public on the first night. I must finish it, doctor."

"Not if I can prevent it," said the little iron-gray man
quietly; but there was a tone of absolute inflexibility in his
voice which convinced both his hearers of the finality of his
decision.

Suddenly the veteran maestro jumped up, smiling. " Per
I'amor di Dio ! why did I not think of it before ? Here,
quickly, give me the score, lad, and I will conduct myself ! If
the public are angry, I can tell them you are ill."

" If they are angry ! " said Gian Lorenzo, gratefully, fol-
lowing him to the door; but he had already disappeared, and
in a moment they heard the burst of applause which greeted
his appearance. The short act was soon over; at its conclu-
sion another prolonged roar of enthusiasm broke out, and the
maestro reappeared triumphant.

"They were content," he said simply; for with the unfail-
ing modesty of which the successes of a lifetime had never
robbed him, the veteran musician seldom appeared to realize
that he was a popular idol, and accepted the invariable
enthusiasm of his receptions always gratefully. He would take
no thanks for what he had done for Gian Lorenzo.

" I explained to ' questa buona pubblica ' (the good public)
that you were indisposed ; and they sent you their ' saluti,'
as perhaps you may have heard," he stated gravely, but with
a twinkle in his eye. " Now I will leave you, for you need
rest; and to-morrow you can conduct again, if that tyrant of
a doctor will permit," nodding towards Carocci.

362 THE MAESTRINd'S CHRISTMAS. [Dec,

Directly he had departed Gian Lorenzo said earnestly to
the physician : " I must go to Val-di-Collina to-night, doctor,
or I cannot be back for to-morrow's performance."

" Do as you like about that," returned the specialist ; " the
few hours quiet of a journey would probably do you good.
Only let me say one thing before you commit yourself. No,
I am not talking of your health." He spoke gravely and
impressively. " Remember your position is made now, and you
are a very different person to the lad who left Val-di-ColIina.
You will be rich. and prosperous. As the famous young com-
poser all Italy will be at your feet in a few weeks ; then this
peasant sweetheart of yours may no longer satisfy you! I
repeat, think well of it before you marry her in a hurry and
then grow tired or ashamed of her! "

"Professor," said Gian Lorenzo, springing to his feet and
towering over the little doctor like a young giantj his eyes
flashing with that peculiar steel-gray fire which only blue eyes
can show, "there are some things which no man on earth
shall say to me, not even you ! Forgive me," he added more
gently, " I know I owe everything to you ; but you do not
know my Annunziata, or you would not speak like this.
Ashamed of her, indeed! Was she ashamed of me when
every one's hand was against me; when they sneered at me as
an idiot? But for her faith and courage for me, I think I
would have made an end of myself up there in Val-di-Collina
long ago. It is my turn to repay her now; and is a little
money or success to make me superior to her — to my beautiful
sweetheart, whom no man, no matter how much he loved her,
could ever be worthy of? No, doctor, a whole lifetime of
devotion is not enough to repay Annunziata for what she has
been to me."

" Forgive me^ Gian Lorenzo," said Carocci, struggling with
a troublesome cough in his throat, and putting out his hand,
which the young man wrung heartily. " You are a better man
than even I thought, which is saying a good deal, and your
sweetheart is a lucky girl. Go to her, then, and God bless
you!"

Two hours afterwards the young composer was speeding
through the darkness in the St. Gothard express, dreaming
dreams of the coming meeting. He arrived at Val-di-ColHna
in the sharp frostiness of early morning when the Angelas

1903.] The Maestrino's Christmas. 363

belU were just ringing from the campanile; and remembering
Annunziata's ways of old, he went down the mountain path-
way leading to the village church. For Gian Lorenzo was
anxious that his first meeting with his sweetheart should not
take place under the eyes of the village he so cordially
abhorred.

He waited there patiently at the turning, his heavy travel-
ling coat turned up at the collar to protect him from the bit-
ter cold. Presently, as he had hoped, a solitary figure came
down the pathway ; and his heart seemed to jump into his
throat, for it was Annunziata. But had she forgotten him ;
mirried, even ? — the thought had tortured him all along,
making the flying express too slow. The sweet face was beau-
tiful as ever ; but its perfect outlines were a trifle sharper, and
it was paler than before, with deep shadows under the long-
lashed lids. Though her carriage was graceful and stately,
there was a languor and gravity about the girl's movements
which seemed unnatural in one so young.

As Annunziata drew near, the unwonted sight of a stranger
in her path made her lift her eyes almost involuntarily; and
the deep sadness in them, the shadow on the dear face he
loved, sent Gian Lorenzo's prudence and fear of startling her
to the winds. He rushed forward impetuously and folded her
closely in his protecting arms. " Sposina mia (my little bride),
I have come for thee at last. Sweetheart, thou art not afraid
of tat. See. it is only Nino ! Look up, dear love, and say
thou hast forgiven me for all this cruel waiting."

But Annunziata was speechless. Great joy like great grief
is numbing at first; and though her head rested contentedly
on her lover's shoulder, she could only whisper, " Nino mio !
at last, at last ! "

So once more Gian Lorenzo and Annunziata walked through
the bare vineyards together ; unheeding the bitter wintry cold.
Their happiness was all-sufiicient ; and it required a powerful
effort, on the young man's part, to bring himself back to the
world of realities; to face the village again, and to endure
their curious comments.

But no time was to be lost, if he was to return to Milan
that night; and here Gian Lorenzo's military training and
habit of quick decisiveness stood him in good stead. In a
very short time he had told his story to his father and mother ;

▼OL. LXXVIII.— 24

3*54

The Maestrino's Christmas.

[Dec,

making the latter promise to return with him at once to Milan,
to hear the opera, bringing Annunziata with her. "You will
not need to be away long, mother — only a few days to see
the sights and buy what you want; and as soon as possible
after Christmas Annunziata and I will be married — as soon as
she is ready, at least ; for I am ready now " ; with a glance
towards his sweetheart which made a lovely rose-color flush
her pale cheeks. fl

As the news of this wonderful home-coming spread the whole
of Val-di-Collina dropped in one by one, to stare, wonder, and
ask questions. Gian Lorenzo endured it all with patience ; H
answering all their queries good naturedly, though his old aversion
to the village so absolutely overwhelmed him with loathing that
he could have fled from the place. Not one of the village
worthies who now crowded around him had ever given a kind
word to the lad in the old days ; and though his nature was a
singularly sweet one, he could not quite forget. Furthermore
he had never been like them, never felt the least sympathy with
them; and now a gulf seemed to stretch between them which he
found it impossible to cross. Strange to say, it was not his
m;ntal superiority, not even his apparent possession of money,
that impressed them most; but the good travelling clothes
which he wore with such unconscious ease ! In a word, he was
a gran signore, and they fully realized the fact. Even the lad's
mother seemed to share the feeling, as she confided to
Annunziata when they were together, packing some modest
belongings, in the girl's home. ^

" Look you, Annunziata, my boy has changed greatly," S
she said ; " he is not proud, but he has an air that somehow
makes me feel half afraid of him, for all he is so quiet I What
if he should be ashamed of us there in Milan» among all his _
fine friends? " |

** Afraid of him — of Nino?" — the girl laughed a soft ring-
ing laugh of perfect content. "To me he is not changed in
the least except that he is older and stronger and handsomer
in every way." And she fell into a day-dream over folding
her soft, creamy dress, till, springing up lightly, she exclaimed :
" Non dubiti (don't fear), Mamma Lucia, Nino is a ' gran' signore,'
as you say ; so much so that he will never be ashamed of us."
But with this enigmatic saying his mother was not enlightened.

So the three travelled back to Milan, reaching there just in

1903]

THE Maestrino^s Christmas,

365

time for Gian Lorenzo to take them to a hotel for some food
and rest, then proceed straight to the theatre. It was even
more densely crowded than on the previous night, and imme-
diately the young composer appeared he was received with a
prolonged burst of enthusiasm.

To Annunziata, looking on from the quiet corner of her
bDx, it seemed as if her cup of happiness was full to over-
floiviog. But when the opening melodies filled the great
listening opera house» and she watched that splendid orchestra
swayed like one man by the boyish figure wielding the baion,
she almost trembled at her own happiness. The whole scene
was like fairyland to the simple village maiden — the scenery,
and the pathetic story set to its wonderful music. But she lost
sight of all this in the glory of the thought that it was Gian
Lorenzo's ; that the world had at last placed him on the pedestal
he had always occupied in her faithful, girlish heart. At the
end of the first act the applause was deafening ; but as it co»-
tinued, and the Maestrino turned to acknowledge it, a sudden
deadening chill shot through Annunziata's heart like an arrow,
'^'Hing her rapture as she looked at him with a strange sense
^' Unreality. This morning, in Val-di- Colli na, it had ail been
5^ different; altogether like a happy dream, when she was not
*jle to recognize the change in his position. He had seemed
^^ little altered ; just the same loving, simple lad of the old
^^ys. But now, amid all this brilliant gathering and away from
^'^c infectious charm of his presence, a thousand doubts and
'Cars assailed the girl, weighing her down with deepest depres-
sion. Perhaps Mamma Lucia was right, and Nino was too
"^^ch of a " gran" signore " for them after all ! Her boyish
'^ver had completely vanished ; and in his place stood this
^*'^. dignified young " Maestro," in the faultless evening clothes
*''*'ch set off his fair coloring so well, bowing continuously
gravely, and cotnpoiedly to the enthusiastic crowds as if
*-cii3torasd to appreciation all his life,

Hisides his own innate refinement, the lad had been fortu-
"^'c in the example of the two men who were his beau ideal
°' **ianliness, Dx. Carocci and the Maestro Bianchi ; and for-
tua^tely for himself the young musician had (like Bianchi) one
°» thiose rare natures which cannot be spoilt by flattery. He
hve^ too sincerely in his music, while his modesty never let
"^"^ lose sight of the fact that the applause was for //, not for

j66 The Maestrin&s Christmas. [Dec,

himself. Consequently this ovation affected him personally but
little ; and only because it meant needed success. As yet
Annunziata had not realized this; so her heart sank lower and
lower.

Suddenly Gian Lorenzo threw his head back with the old
familiar gesture, and looked straight into the girl's eyes, when
his boyish smile broke out over his face for a second. The
effect was like magic! The distinguished stranger had disap-
peared again ; and it was once more Gian Lorenzo ! As she
smiled back his sweetheart felt strangely comforted.. She recog_
nized what was indeed the truth — this quiet gravity of bear,
ing was for the rest of the world ; the smile was for her alone !

Dr. Carocci, who was in his box of the. night before*
experienced a curious distaste, which half annoyed and half
amused him, towards looking in the direction of Annunziata
and Gian Lorenzo's mother. His fastidious mind absolutely
dreaded the sight of the village beauty who had so captivated
his favorite. However, with a bold plunge of decision he fol-
lowed the glance of Gian Lorenzo's eye. First curiously, then
with awakening interest, his keen gaze rested long and atten-
tively on Aijnunziata's face. This was not the ordinary coun-
try girl he had pictured, with only the passing beauty of
youth to recommend her; who would never be able to rise
to her lover's circumstances, but only perhaps drag him down
to her level 1 No, a thousand times no ! This stately maiden
with the exquisitely chiselled profile, the pencilled eyebrows,
and the softly rounded contour of face and throat, was beau-
tiful as a picture in her simple gown of creamy white. The
turn of her perfect neck and the proud carriage of her head
were worthy of any patrician lady; but best of all — in the
far-sighted doctor's eyies — seemed the modest sweetness and
refinement of the gentle face. He turned away satisfied. " I
might have known the lad would have good taste."

Later, at the conclusion of the famous " intermezzo," when
the applause was at its height, Carocci glanced up again, curi-
ous to note its effect upon Annunziata. He had expected to
see her moved ; to watch the dark eyes kindling with pleasure
and triumph ; but instead the girl had withdrawn herself as
far as possible into the shadow. The beautiful downcast face,
more lovely than ever, was pale with emotion ; and tears
dropped slowly from under the long lashes. Gian Lorenzo

1903.]

THE MAESTRlNO*S CHRISTMAS.

367

had won his highest tribute ; and Dr. Carocci hastily averted
his gaze, feeling as if he had' unwittingly intruded on some-
thing not intended for his eyes.

Finally the opera was over — an undoubted success from
beginning to end. As soon as he could escape from the for-
midable array of well-meaning congratulations, the hero of the
hour made his way to Annunziata's box ; a radiant young
embodiment of triumph, his arms full of white blossoms with
which he filled his sweetheart's hands. "All for thee, carina,
the flowers and the success." But quickly noting the half-
dried tears on her face, they made him for a second tenderly
anxious. Bending over her in the shadow of her quiet corner,
he whispered softly : " Sweetheart, this is my Christmas pres-
ent! Thank God and the doctor, I have kept my promise
after all ! Look, dear one, our waiting is over. The gate of
success is lying open, and, Se Dio vuole (If God wills it),
we shall enter it together I " Lifting her wonderful eyes, still
wet with tears but radiant with happy love-light, the young
girl only answered simply, " Se Dio vuole 1 Nino, Si ! "

368 A NARRA TIVE OF THE MISSIONS ON THE CONGO. [De^

A NARRATIVE OF THE MISSIONS ON THE CONGO.

BY A, B. TUGMAN.

(concluded.)

'FTER many trips, both on duty and for the benefit
of my health, that took me in all directions, even
so far as to Mossamedes, one of the Portuguese
possessions on the South-west Coast, I was able
to gain some idea of the general system that
had been adopted to raise the negro from his natural condition,
and make him useful not alone to himself but to those whose
aim it was to make the country habitable, and not simply one
of commercial value, to the. nations of the world.

My duties also, which were entirely voluntary in connec-
tion with the attendance upon the sick, to minister to them
and carry out the instructions laid down by the physician,
afforded me an intimate knowledge of the extent of the suffer-
ings that were experienced by all, both natives and otherwise.

Throughout my experience with the African, bolh in Africa^
and in South America, and viewing the efforts that are besng^V
made by the various sects of the Protestant church, and com-
paring these with the efforts that the Catholic Church is
making, we can but arrive at one conclusion j which is, that
one is actuated in great measure by a mercenary motive, whilst
the other is the outcome of a pure love of God. To arrive at
this conclusion we need but take facts to prove the statement.

Commencing with the individual, let us compare those of
the Protestant faith with the Catholic missionary.

From those whom I have met among my Protestant ac-
quaintance but few there were who could have merited so
much as respect, from an intellectual stand-point, and whilst I
cannot deny that there were some who enjoyed a liberal edu-
cation, these were but few and far between.

But in this light my views are open to question, for I
would not desire to set myself down as an authority for
human intellectuality. Let me, therefore, draw your attention

'903j A Narrative of the Missions on the Congo. 369

to what most impressed me, and what has enabled me to draw
my own conclusions.

Look at the disposition and iacentive of these opposing
sects and compare their efforts.

The Protestant is engaged to enter the missionary band for
a given stipend. He enters upon his work, therefore, for a

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The Boys on 1'akapk.

mercenary consideration ; and in order to justify this, allrib-
utes to his Catholic neighbor a motive that is unbecoming.
The Protestant missionary, as I found him, was comfortably
housed in what might be a fac-simile of the English country
parsonage, to build which it was necessary to fall back
upon the native, whose knowledge was gained at the hands
of the Catholic missionaries, priests and brothers. Here he
lives surrounded by all the comforts that he can lay his
hand upon, in order, as it was told to me, that he might
impress the native with a due regard for the white man's
superiority. Here he carries on his mission; and upon what
lines? As I found, by paying the chiefs, in order that they
might send their children and their people to the school to

370 .-/ XAKHA riVE OF THE MISSIONS ON THE CONGO. [Dec,

learn the nuture of ihis superiority, and incidentally the art of
roatling and writing, both of which form the basis of all their
Iab(»ra, in order that they may enable them to study the Bible
and fling hymns. This forms the ideal of his labors ; though
It proves a most expensive method, for so 5oon as the induce-
trienta are withheld, the pupils fall off and the missionary feels
he is not doing his duty. I was told at one of the missions
that it was impossible to get the natives to attend without
some inducement being offered, and moreover in my time it
was not altogether uncommon for rum to be dispensed as in-
ducement by the missionary, who found this article to work
wonders with the native, as I can heartily testify to.

On the other hand, look at the Catholic missionary as he
enters upon his work ; what is his condition ? He carries with
him perhaps a change, but from the size of his baggage it will
not bs a very extensive change at that.

Where the Protestant has means provided for building a
comfortable home, the latter will have to depend upon his own
ingenuity. There is no need to impress the native with his
outward magnificence, for he has vowed himself to perpetual
poverty. He has entered upon his mission as one who is capa-
ble to teach the religion of Christ, his only recognized Master,
and has to look at the result of his labor, which shall be
judged by Him, and not by the charitably disposed public
Thus, being a teacher, he enters upon his task ; he proceeds
to teach by impressing the native with the sanctity, power,
value, and importance of labor. He stamps it with the highest
and most holy seal by himself engaging in it, and by force of
example draws to his side those who are disposed to partici-
pate in its fruits. He is not above the native, though he may
be more fortunate; he humbles himself in accordance with the
solemn vow he has taken, and in this way infuses into the life
of his people the same influence that Christ his Master was
wont to teach and practise. Like the Master, he becomes en-
deared to the disciple, over whom he is not long in gaining
complete control ; not out of fear or from any sense of supe-
riority and exalted dignity, but as the natural result of that
most powerful of all human influences, hve ; love, that pure-
est of all virtues; and this he plants in the hearts of his people
by example not by briber}', not by theory but by practice.
Yes, and this secret was the very one that I heard the most

1903.] A Narrative of the missions on the Congo. 371

tf:

Young Tailor Apprbnticbs.

vilified ; the practice of this very virtue we were taught most
to loath and despise, being toJd that it was only an outward
display in order to gain influence, and then to ruin and deceive.

To emphasize what I have advanced as the standard of duty
in the Catholic missionary in Africa you need but look at the
accompanying illustrations, for you will be able to associate the
religious with the practical side of his woik, with the evidence
that you have around you in this and every other country in
the great universe.

Thus, so far as the training goes, what results can we present
On both sides i* The Protestant cannot and does not wield the
Same influence as the Catholic. When possible the Protestant
m'ssionary has his family, his wife, to share his attention, and
besides this he has nothing but theory to back up any and every
precept that he may advance. He fails in implanting the true
principle of love, and therefore he can never hope to gain other
than a mercenary end for his labors. If he is to put down supersti-
tion, polygamy, or any other evil that runs rampant, he will have
to resort to those means that he established at the outset, or, unless
he comes within the influence of the Protestant government, he

372 A Narrative OF THE MISSIONS ON THE Congo. [Dec,

I will have to appeal to them for aid in compelling the native to
attend the mission. fl

The Catholic priest, on the contrary, was like a father; his™
influence over young as well as old presented the most forcible
example. On one occasion I had an opportunity to call upoi^^
the Fathers of the Holy Ghost for artisan labor, for which there
was a considerable demand with us. We had no carpenters .
and no blacksmiths, and none but the Kru-Boys, who possessed*
a very limited idea of such work. Thus we were forced to
apply to our much-maligned enemies in religion, This short
visit did much to open my eyes regarding Catholic doctrines
and the value of their presence in such a coilntry as Africa. ■

The station — a comfortable, well-planned building — was the
result of their own efforts, and did not entail any unnecessary
expenditure of funds other than what was absolutely needed
for raw material. Here were all classes to be found, trained
and disciplined natives who had been initiated in all those oc-
cupations that were most conducive to the welfare of the coun-
f try, and would be the most highly appreciated by those that
were to follow. M

The fathers, as I have said, exercised complete control over
their converts, and displayed that knowledge of the native
character that not even our distinguished chief appeared to
possess. For though Stanley could influence his men, yet he
could not make of them any kind of useful beings, either to
himself or to others.

At this station I was able to secure the help needed, and
could not but feel ashamed that we should have had to re-
sort to the Catholic mission for aid when we were always so ^
ready and eager to decry them upon every possible oppor-M
tunity. Moreover, having in mind the flourishing reports of
the great results accomplished by Protestant missionary societies,
one was ready to ask what it all meant, and look around for
the secret of the enormous expenditure of funds that they
continually need to carry on their work, This solution was
not beyond sight, nor did it need any great amount of calcu- ^
lating to figure where all the money went. |

The cost of living was great when it was taken into con-
sideration that they had to depend upon food which was
imported from Europe and the United States. They had to
compensate the native for attending school, and their other

1903.J A Narrat/v'e of the Missions ox the Congo. 373

??^»

V©;

I
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The Cathedral of Zanzibar.

expenses were considerable. To think that they should have to
train the native to work, or themselves set an example in this
line, would certainly have shocked the contributors themselves.
They were not engaged to teach anything but the Bible, and
the contributors are willing at any cost to bear the expense.
The Catholic priest, on the other hand, has but a poor fund to
draw upon, and at all stages of his career meets with hardship.
He is ever looking to his Master for aid, and at all stages
is impelled to project his future work, ever broadening its scope,
though his means are alas ! too limited. But he knows that
the Master whom he so devotedly serves will provide, and he
continues to meet the hardships, and by degrees accomplishes,
in many instances in a crude manner, the purpose he has in
mind, awaiting the future and the will of God to open the
hearts of those who possess the means to further the noble
efforts that are made for His greater glory and honor.

The millions of dollars that are annually contributed for the
furtherance and support of Protestant missions, judging from
my experience not alone in Africa but several other Catholic
countries, should make every Catholic rr^lize the crying need

$74 ^ N'A/tRA TIVE OF THE MISSIONS ON THE CONGO. [Dec.

that exists for funds to carry on the work that so many of our
piitron saints initiated, and whom we are so ready to appeal
to nt all limes when we stand in need of temporal benefits.
If wc are led to recognize the power and influence that these
holy men wield at the hands of Jesus, we should in like turn
he ready to respond to the plea that is raised by their fol-
luwera whose whole life and efforts are spent in accomplishing
wh»t is for our benefit, and above all, the greater glory and
honor of God through His Son, our Saviour and Redeemer.

The following is an excerpt just received from the head of
one of the Protestant trading firms in England, whose stations
are within the district of the Fathers of the Holy Ghost, and
will go far to show how highly even Protestants think of the
noble work that is being carried on by these true servants of
the cross :

" I am much interested in the exertions put forth by your
mission to develop industry and education. I am therefore
glad to know that you are creating bricklayers, stone-cutters,
carpenters, agriculturists, and I hope engineers and blacksmiths.
You are doing a fine work for Africa. . The government

ought to be doing the work you are doing in these matters;
but as they have not undertaken it, nor arc likely to do so, I
hope they are giving you such financial assistance as you de-
serve, . The government of West Africa, unfortunately,
thinks more of spending the revenue on worthless and unneces-
sary objects than in the cause of education. Appar-
ently in Africa it is the business of the government to tax the
people, and do as little for them as possible in return.
Accept the amount of . . . as a token of my interest in
your work. . . ."

If Catholics will but follow the example of this fair-minded
Protestant gentleman, it will be a great help to the furtherance
of the plans that for so many years have been frustrated owing
to the lack of funds.

She ^inds.

BY KATHLEEN MOiNICA NICHOLSON.

|HAT are the songs the mad winds sing?
What is the message their wild wings bring ?
Moaning among the branches bare,
Whistling under the eaves at night,
Speeding over the hill- tops white,
Theirs to interpret the songs who dare:
Be it a prophecy, be it a knell

They leave behind as they swiftly go,
That the heart may hear and the soul may know,
But the lips may have no speech to tell.

We are the Past that to music burned

The hopes that died in the swift flown years.
The future gained that dissolved in tears,

The loved and lost that the heart hath yearned.

The breath of a flower, a dream, a pain,

To sentient being returned again.

We are the life that must end with years.
The hopes that perish, the loves that pass
As the breezes that sweep thro' the blades of grass;
We are the dead that know no biers,
We are the echoes of old years' chime.
We are all that was in the realms of time.

'Mong Karnak's pillars our songs we sang,

And proud kings listened and sad-faced priests;
We whistled low at their ancient feasts, —

'Mong Karnak's ruins our dirges rang;

For the years and ruins and mounds away

Are pist and passing, and on we stay.

37© . THE Winds.

Voices of Pagans with faces prone,

To worship the gods of the early world,
Ere the Man-God came to earth and hurled

The altars to dust and claimed His own;

For us no home in earth or air,

Wanderers ever and everywhere.

Voices of souls of abandoned creeds,
Meanings of deeds of forgotten days ;
Ever the world new means essays

To adapt her ways to new men's needs;

Tho' mountain and earthquake and glacial path

Have changed her face, — and the Man God's wrath.

We are the dreams that were dreamed before
Moses had carved the Tables of Ten ;
We are the thoughts that came to men

Ere the dreamer dreamed of the Western shore.

We are of the Past. When our song is done

The Past and the Future shall be as one.

►ec,

•c^

1903.

The umbers rekindled.

37?

THE EMBERS REKINDLED.

BY G. V. CHRISTMAS.

" The time draws near the birth of Clirist.
The moon is hid : the night is still ;
The Christmas bells from hill to hill
Answer each other in the mist," — /h Mtmoriam,

AMES CLAYTON had "arrived." There could
be no two opinions on the subject. For some
years past he had been clambering up the slip-
pery foothold of Fame's ladder, sometimes
attaining a higher rung, at others sliding back
again to his former position; but now his name was on every
I one's lips and his last book was the topic of the moment; and
that is Fame — as we count it nowadays. He was sitting alone
'n his study this Christmas Eve, waiting for the somewhat
Urci y arrival of his typewriter. A tall, distinguished- looking
•nan , with gray eyes which seemed as though they were better
acquainted with sorrow than with mirth, and a smile which
caiTie rarely but which was well worth waiting for — "a man
witti. a past." Such was the verdict of the women who were
^'^^l *-«ainted with him, as well as those who admired from a
"'Stance — and these were a large number; perhaps — who shall
fathi onj the mysteries of a woman's mind? — on account of his
^*^1— known indifference to the sex. He had not, however,
°^^»~» always indifferent. The flower of romance had bloomed
*°'" kim as well as for his fellows, and for a brief elysian period
"* l~aad tasted the sweets of gratified love. And then had fol-
low^(] disaster, and now, he told himself, the torch of fame
^"** ambition burned with a clearer radiance than any light
wn a ,^-.|.j could be found in a woman's eyes.
I "Xhis reflection was with him this snowy Christmas Eve as

^^ >i^aited to begin his work. It was the eighth anniversary
^Tfce day which had witnessed the wreckage of his hopes, —
day when he had discovered that for him wedded happi-
was a dream and solitary endurance a reality. He rose
'^*^*"*^ his chair and began to pace restlessly up and down the

the

ire£

378

The Embers Rekindled,

ec.

room. Usually, accustomed as he was to the concentration of
his ideas, he was able to control and keep in order any
intruding thoughts which threatened to interfere with his rou-
tine of work; but this morning, somehow, it required a greater
effort, and one after another vivid pictures of the vanished
past rose up before his mental vision.

Presently he looked at his watch, and an impatient excla-
mation escaped him.

" Why does not that girl come ? " he muttered. " Past ten
already, and the weather never keeps her away." And then,
as if in answer to his words, the bell rang and, after a
moment's interval, a tall, slight woman, with a thick gauze veil
concealing her features, entered the room.

James Clayton looked up in surprise.

" Miss Seaton is ill," began the stranger in a low, pleasantly
modulated voice, " and I have been sent instead. You will
find me an experienced typist.'*

The novelist started and bent a scrutinizing glance on the
veiled features. The voice sounded strangely familiar, and his
heart began to beat a little quicker than its wont.

" I regret Miss Seaton's illness," he said gravely, " but I
have no doubt your services will prove efficient. Will you
kindly begin, as it is rather late?"

The typewriter bowed her assent, and began, with some-
what trembling fingers, to remove her thick veil.

" Ethel ! ■'

Sharp and sudden the name fell from the man's lips, and,
for an instant, he and the woman, from whom he had parted
eight years ago, stood gazing at each other in silence.

The woman was the first to regain her self-possession. " You
remember me, then ? " she said calmly.

"Remember you?" he echoed; "is it likely I should for-
get? A man may forget the woman he loves possibly, but he fl
will always remember the one who has ruined his life."

She raised her eyebrows, while a faint, mocking smile
curved the corners of her mouth. ■

" The world does not consider your life ruined, at any
rate," she remarked. " For the last year I seem to have
heard of little else but James Clayton's wonderful success, of
his fertility of ideas, his originality of style, his ever* increasing
fame. Gratified ambition spells happiness to most men, but it

19-05.]

The Embers Rekindled.

i?pears that you are more difficult to please. But you must
nc>t. miss your morning's work. As I am here and your type-
"WTiter is not, shall we begin?"

She seated herself at the machine, a slight, graceful figure in
a close-fitting black dress, and a^vaited his dictation.

"What is the use of continuing this farce?" he exclaimed
angrily. " Wky did you come here to awaken memories which
— which I hoped were dead and buried ? The fire was extin-
guished long ago, and there is nothing so difficult to rekindle
as burnt-out embers. What was your object in coming to
torment me ? "

The color rushed into her pale face at his impetuous words,

"I came," she said slowly, "to tell you that I — that I for-
gave you."

He stared at her with wide-open, incredulous eyes for an
instant, in bewildered silence, and then he broke into a bitter
laugh.

" Well, for barefaced audacity commend me to a woman ! "
he exclaimed. " You — my wife— came here to forgive me,
when it is I who am the injured, insulted party ? Why did
we part?" he demanded peremptorily, crossing the room to
stand in front of her, indignation in every line of his face.
" Answer me that, and then explain, il you can, where your
forgiveness comes in ? "

"We parted," she said, in a low but unfaltering tone,
" because you, being the victim of a delusion, rashly judged
the woman whom at God's altar you had sworn to love and
cherish until death,"

" Rashly judged ? Am I going mad or are you ? " he
murmured with the air of a man weighed down by a gruesome
nightmare. " Did I not with my own ears hear you telling
my friend, the man I trusted like a brother, that he need not
despair, that his fidelity and patience would certainly be
rewarded some day, if he was capable of playing a waiting
game. You added — I can remember it as though it were yes-
terday-^' I will see you alone to-morrow and tell you what I
have arranged. Jim will be at Starborough until late in the
evening.* Was that what you said, or was it not ? "

"It was," she returned calmly, "word for word. You have
indeed a wonderful memory. And then you interrupted us ;
you stormed, and raved, and insulted us both grossly ; but you

VOL. LXXVin.— 25

^8o The embers Rekindled, {Dec,

never asked for any explanations, or whether I had anything
to plead in my defence."

" Defence ? You had none to make," he answered hotly.

" Pardon me, I had. I could have told you that Tom
Dalton was in love with my sister Nellie, who was playing the
coquette with him arid treating him extremely badly, and that
I was acting as intermediary, and doing all I could to bring
the silly child td her' senses. I had promised him solemnly
that I would keep his secret, even from you, till the a£fair was
settled. He was nothing but a boy in spite of his five-and-
twenty years, and he was afraid of your chaff. Of course he
was ready to release me from my w6rd ; indeied, I had great
difficulty, when you left us, in preventing him from rushing
after you and telling you the whole story; but I persuaded
him not, and perhaps — who knows ? — he thought I was glad
to' be released ? Anyhow, he promised ; you had doubted me,
and I would not stoop to explanations — my pride was my
besetting sin — nor would I forgive you; and you were proud
too ; we were well matched in that respect — and so I left
you."

As she spoke James Clayton stood as one transfixed. His
mini was in a whirl of conflicting emotions, and amongst them
the newly born tidings of a great joy began to whisper to
his heart: Ethel was innocent; she had come back to him,
perhaps — she would stay.

" What have you thought of me all these years ? " she
demanded imperiously.

" I did not know what to think," he muttered. " Dalton's
regiment got the route for India three days after our separa-
tion and I have neither seen nor heard from him since. Nellie,
I suppose, refused him after all ? "

" She did, and has regretted it ; but never mind that now.
You have believed that I cared for him then ? "

" God help me, Ethel ! I was half mad with wounded
pride and jealousy, and I feared perhaps — he was an attractive
fellow, you know, and nearer your own age than I — and, fool
that I was, / was too proud to ask you ! "

" It is our pride which has very nearly ruined both our lives,"
she said softly ; " but now — " And she paused abruptly.
** Do you see now that it is my place to forgive, Jim ? "

He groaned and bent his head upon his hands. " Can you

'9<>3-

THE EMBERS REKINDLED.

'S%\

asked. "But why? The
go and lost all traces of

situation is the
your existence.

forgive me?" he

same. I let you

What is prompting you to give me this chance of atonement ?

Is it *' — and he rose and came towards her, the old tender

light which she once knew so well shining in his eyes,— "is it

that the old love stiJl lives within you, that the memory of the

old days has overcome your pride ? "

** It is that, and more" she said, and her lips were parted

in a radiant smile. " When I left you, Jim, I had, as you

know:, very tittle if any religion, and what I had was vague

and unsatisfactory; but lately, within the last six months, I

ha.ve been led to the light, and I believe. I am a Catholic,

Jim, and it is a Catholic's </«/>' to forgive. That is the principal

reason why I came to you as Miss Seaton's substitute this

CHristmas Eve. I took up typing when my aunt, with whom

* liave been living, died; and going to the office to inquire

'*^«" your address, I took this opportunity of seeing you at

orjce. Shall I — stay, Jim, and spend Christmas with you?"

He rushed forward and took her in his arms, and the

^*^Tow of their past vanished at the touch of a present joy.

Presently Ethel Clayton raised her head from her

"»-tst>and's shoulder with a demure little smile. "What about

*"o^e burnt-out embers, Jim?" she inquired. "Do you think

**^^ ^hall be able to rekindle them, after all ? "

We looked down at her fondly, with a laugh in his eyes,
**t^ face appeared ten years younger, and h>s manner was that
** ^fc^ school-boy newly released for his holidays.

*'We will have a try at it anyhow, little woman," he said.
-And outside, that Christmas Eve, the snow-flakes fell faster
'^'^ faster and the reunited lovers looked out together upon a
^^^ i te world.

382 Church in France and the Briand Bill, [Dec,

THE CHURCH IN FRANCE AND THE BRIAND BILL.

BY MANUEL DE MOREIRA, Ph.D.

'RANGE once more is making frantic efforts to
root out of the country that religion which
for centuries has been a legacy from the noble
and great of the past. About a year ago they
succeeded in expelling from their native land
men and women whose praises were sung in every country.
The army, inactive thanks to a prolonged peace, was called to
enforce the new law, and we, in this home of freedom, read in
our daily paper the venturesome deed of France sending one
or two battalions of infantry and cavalry to evict eight or ten
nuns, and a whole regiment, -backed up by cannon, to expel a
few peaceful monks, who had devoted their lives to the doing
of good, and who had succeeded in relieving the country for
miles around of poverty and suffering.

But that was a year ago. Since then they have tried
incessantly to plan a last move, which, while in theory and
under American conditions would mean the removal of heavy
chains, still under French customs means impoverishment and
suffering for the French clergy. The plan of this governmental
campaign, which is to result in the separation of the church
and state, has been championed by M. Aristide Briand, a man
well known for his hatred of religion and of matters ecclesias-
tical. The bill makes French Catholics ask : Is the plan of the
great Napoleon to be shattered? Is the dream of the infidel
to be realized ? Are the French clerics to be deprived of their
lawful support? Free-thinkers, on the other hand, boast that
the day of liberty is about to dawn, and that the rule of the
cassock is to be ignominiously broken.

To understand clearly the present situation we must keep
before our minds the terms of the Concordat, according to
which the relations between church and state are now regu-
lated. It will be remembered that the Concordat is the famous
document drawn up between Napoleon the Great and Pius VII.,
while the pope was still more or less a prisoner at Fontaine-
bleau. Napoleon had come to the conclusion that a country

\^03.] Church in France and the Briand Bill. 383

^^tHout a definite reltgton could not last, and that a merely

i^^Xional church was, under the circumstances, an impossibility.

"■^ resolved, therefore, to make the best of the situation, by

cotripelHng the pope to agree to certain plans which would

g^e the emperor a leading influence in church matters. The

extent of this influence will be best gathered from the following

Articles of the Concordat, which we outline in substance :

Article I. The Roman Catholic and Apostolic Religion shall
be freely practised in France. Its worship shall be public;
subject, however, to those police regulations which the govern-
ment may judge necessary to preserve order and peace.

Art. 11. New boundaries will be made for all dioceses.
These boundaries will be arranged by the government in con-
cert with the Holy See.

Art. HI. The first consul shall name within three months
the candidates for archbishoprics and bishoprics of the new dio-
ceses. His Holiness shall confer canonical institution accord-
ing to previous custom.

Art. IV. The nomination to vacant bishoprics shall also be
made by the first consul, and the canonical institution will be
conferred according to the previous article.

Art. V. The bishops, after receiving canonical institution,
shall take, in presence of the first consul, the oath of allegiance
to the government.

Art. VT. Diocesan priests shall take the same oath, in the
presence of a magistrate approved by the government.

Art. VIL At the end of the divine service the following
prayer shall be recited in all the Catholic churches in France :
Doraine, salvum fac rempublicam ; Domine, salvos fac consules.

Art. VIIL The bishops can name for rectors of parishes
only those persons who are acceptable to the government.

Art. IX. All metropolitan churches, cathedrals needed for
divine worship, shall be put at the disposition of the bishops.

Art. X. The government will sanction any new foundation
made by persons in behalf of the church.

When Napoleon made known the articles of the Concordat,
he published simultaneously with it a Code of Organic Laws,
with, as it was supposed, the view of rendering the acceptance
of the Concordat less objectionable to the " Corps Legislatif,
by which it was ratified April 5, 1802. These laws are in sub-
stance as follows:

384 Church in France and the Briand Bill. [Dec,

No bull, brief, rescript, or mandate; no provision or en^
actment of any kind whatever coming from the Holy See, even
should these refer only to individual and single cases, shall be
received or published or printed or carried into effect without
leave from the' government.

Bishops shall be amenable for misdemeanors to the Council
of State, which, if a case be made out against the arraigned,
shall be competent to pass a vote of censure.

No synod may be held in France without leave of the
government.

On the death of a bishop his see shall be administered by
his metropolitan ; or should he be prevented from so doing, by
the senior bishop of the province.

Vicars-general shall continue to exercise the functions of their
office after the. death of the bishop, and until his successor has
been inducted.

Parish priests shall give the marriage blessing only to those
who can prove that the marriage ceremony has been already
performed before a civil magistrate The parish register shall be
valid evidence as to the reception of the sacrament, but shall
not be received as proof of what is purely a civil matter.

The arrangements thus concluded between France and the
Holy See have been the basis of all negotiations between the
two powers since that time ; and although complete freedom for
the church was not had, still under fair-minded statesmen the
church was not crippled in her work. Now, however, M.
Briand resolves to break utterly with the past, and to institute
a new legislation which, while freeing the civil power of its
obligations, will reduce churchmen to the position of peons^ and
the church to a condition of abject vassali^e. To understand
the matter as it should be understood by those who keep
themselves abreast of great historic changes, we must give the
greater number of the articles of the Briand bill :

Article I. The Republic grants to all citizens freedom of
conscience, and also freedom of religious expression. It grants
the free exercise of worship except under the following
restriction :

Art. II. The Republic will never protect nor subsidize, directly
or indirectly, any form of worship. It will not recognize a minis-
ter of worship. It will not provide gratuitously any house for
the exercise of worship or for the lodgment of any ministers.

1903-3 Church in France

THE Briand Bill. 385

Art. in. The government will suppress the embassy to the
Holy See and the Ministry of Worship.

Art. IV. From the first of January following the acceptance
of this bill, all public expenses for any worship, all salaries,
indemnities, etc., granted to the department of worship will be
suppressed.

Art, V. From the same date the government will withdraw
the free use of any religious building, previously put at the
disposition of the minister of worship by the state, the depart-
ments, or the communes.

^rt. VI. Within six months of the acceptance of the present
oi'l, 3,11 properties, either movable or immovable, belonging to
3ly >vorship, proceeding exclusively from gifts or donations of
the faithful, will be divided between the civil societies founded
for tHe exercise and maintenance of worship. Any realty which
''as t>een a gift from the state will revert to it.

■^rt. VII. A pension will be granted to any official of any
church, from an archbishop to a professor of theology in a
sernitiary, who, being over forty-five years old, has received

twenty years a salary from the state.

-^ rt. VIII. This pension will be in proportion to the
'"'Oilier of years of service, and will be no less than $120 nor
"^^re than $240.

•^Irt. IX. The buildings actually used for the exercise of
*^''ship, or as residence to its ministers, will remain property
°' the state.

-^rt. X. In one year from the promulgation of this bill, any
^*lciing that has been erected since the Concordat with the
P'**^Ceeds of collections or private donations can be reclaimed.

■^rt. XL Buildings used for worship, and which are state
"***^F>erty, must remain in the ownership of the state.

^-^rt. XII, The state wiH be obliged, for a period of ten
^ ^'"s, to rent these buildings for the exercise of worship. The
'^t.al cannot exceed ten per cent, of the income of said con-
^*"^ Ration.

\ ^-tri. Xfll. Meetings for the celebration of worship will be

*^er the same laws as any public meeting,

•^rt. XIV. No political meeting can be held in buildings
^ci for worship.

'Art. XV. A fine from $10 to $100, or imprisonment from
t^cn days to three months, will be the penalty of those com-

386 Church in. France and the Briand Bill. [Dec,

pelling others to attend, or to contribute to the support of any
worship, or obliging any one to close his store or factory on
any religious feast.

Art. XVI. Any minister of worship who, in the exercise of
his functions, will in reading pastoral instructions or in his
sermons attack a member of the government, or any public
official, will be punished with a fine from $ioo to $600, or
imprisonment from a month to a year.

Art. XVII. Processions, or any exterior manifestation of
worship, can only take place with permission of the mayor.

Art. XIX, It is forbidden to bless pr consecrate by a
religious ceremony a cemetery, or a portion of it containing
more than one tomb.

Art. XX. Ornaments and funereal inscriptions are to be sub-
mitted beforehand to the municipal authority.

Art. XXI. It is forbidden to assign any special place in a
cemetery for a suici(fe or a non-baptized person.

Art. XXII. No cross or any religious emblem can be erected,
or stay erected, in a public place, except in the building
reserved for the exercise of worship. Those which exist can
be taken off by the public authority, except in those cases
where it has an historical character. A fine from $20 to $400
will be inflicted on any one who builds one, or re-establishes
one previously destroyed by order of the authorities.

While pretending to give the church the common right, M.
Aristide Briand, deputy of the Loire, draws up against the
association of worship rules which do not allow the clergy of
the different religions to live with dignity and to fulfil with
freedom their high and great mission.

The injustice of this law is obvious. An ordinary associa-
tion can increase its property indefinitely without being under
the control of the state; the society which will supervise the
celebration of worship is not allowed the same privilege.

It seems that the new bill has for its object to prevent in
the future the church from possessing property which will help
it to defray the necessary expenses. It confiscates property
belonging to the ecclesiastical authorities. It is true that one
article grants to the church properties which have been built
with money received from the liberality of the faithful, but
another article decides that realty proceeding from gifts of the
state shall return to the state.

1903] Church in France and the Briand bill. 387

The Briand bill forbids any cross or religious emblem, and
gives authority to public officials to remove all crosses or
statues now in existence. These acts of revolutionary vandal-
ism will only be prevented if the monument has an historical
interest.

After having proclattned the free exercise of worship, M.
Briand breaks at once the application of this principle in plac-
ing in the same class prayer-meetings and political gatherings.
In doing so he forces those who meet together for pious pur-
poses to give notijfication thereof (according to the law of June
30, 1881) to the authorities before each meeting, and of going
through other formalities not at all in keeping with the cele-
bration of religious duties.

It seems to me that the separation of the church and state
under such conditions would be, according to the perfect
expression of Guizot, "but a coarse experiment which will
lower and weaken both under the pretext of freeing one from
the other." We naturally ask ourselves what would be the
result to France if the church were to be separated from the
state ?

If the French government were a liberal, unmeddlesome
po^ver, like our own, then the separation would be something
that every one would desire. On the part of the church, there
woiald be the enjoyment of that salutary liberty under which
she can exercise her influence to the greatest advantage. The
government would no longer have anything to say in the nomi-
nation of bishops, and the church would be able to present to
^"^ state a solid phalanx of independent prelates flanked by
hatt^Uons of vigorous clerics. It is true that the church would
hav^ to forfeit the present means of subsistence, and the clergy
*^*>i-«]d have to depend on the people for the ordinary neces-
saries of life. As the people have not been trained to sup-
P*^*"^ the priests, it would be doubtful if they could be relied
"P^^xi to do so in a satisfactory manner — at least in the begin-
**"^^". But matters would right themselves in time, and inde-
perndence would strengthen not only the spiritual activity of
'"^ church but also her financial condition.

Few books have been published

THE OFFICE OF OUR LADY, in many years past as valuable

By Father Taunton. or as timely as Father Taunton's

study on The Little Office of Our
Lady.* Some biographies have been published of late that do
but little credit to Catholic hagiography, and prayer books issued
which endeavor to put in the background the great fundamen-
tal truths of our religion. Such works are a positive injustice
to the soul that is seeking instruction, and that should be led
with the utmost care by one thoroughly acquainted with
Catholic theology and possessing an intimate knowledge of its
proper proportions.

The present volume may be put into the hands of the
youngest novice, and he will gain from it one of the most
valuable assets of the spiritual life— the meaning and the power
of prayer. The author states in his introduction : " I have
written this treatise especially for those who by their vows are
called upon to share in the public prayer of the church.
But I have borne in mind the wants of that ever-increasing
number of the laity who prefer to find their devotion in the
church's prayers, where all is staid and sober and short, rather
than in utterances of private individuals, which are often the
reverse. In days gone by the Little Office in English was the
favorite devotion of our Catholic forefathers. Happy for Eng-
land when our prayers once more take such forms, and we
build our spiritual life on the simple, direct spirit of Holy
Mother Church instead of on those so-called devotions which
the late saintly Cardinal Manning was wont to count as some
of the greatest evils of the church to-day."

Every Catholic must join at least once a week in the
highest of liturgical prayers— the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass;B
and we know of no treatise in English which excels that in
the first part of this volume, on the nature of liturgical prayer.
We cannot describe • its excellences here, but we can and do
urge every Catholic to read and study it.

Added to it is a history of the formation and growth of

• The LittU OJjke of Our Lady. A Treatise Theoretical, Practical, and ExegeUcal. By
Eihctred L. Taaaton, Priest of the Archdiocese of Westminster. New York: F. Postet & Co.-

1903]

Views and Revieivs.

389

the Little Office, and its development as we have it to-day.
The Practical Part treats of the proper recitation of the office,
of attention and distraction ; the Exegetical Part contains a
full and complete commentary on the psalms, hymns, responses
of all the hours. A ceremonial and the latest decrees of the
Sacred Congregation of Rites are added as an appendix.

The book is a veritable treasure of suggestive thought and
practical advice, and abounds in scriptural wisdom. Priests
will find it most useful for their personal improvement and in
preaching the Divine Word, Religious should welcome its
publication, and Sodalities bless the author for his exception-
ally good and laborious work.

The volume is rather large, well printed, but not excep-
tionally well bound, and we cannot but wish that its cost was
'ms, for at its present price it will remain unknown to the
great majority of Catholics, except perhaps when it is occa-
sionally borrowed from a library, and even that privilege gives
but the time to read the book ; whereas this volume was " not
intended to be read through once, and then laid aside," but is
« "hand-book for reading and studying, now one part and
then another."

It would be well, at least, to reprint the first chapter of the
first part, and that could be brought within the reach of all.
We wish that the present volume would go far and wide
on its mission of instruction and consolation, and spread among
the hearts of men a true and loving devotion to our Blessed
Lady, the patroness of our land !

Father Drury ts a veteran mis-

WHAT THE CHURCH sionary to non-Catholics in the

TEACHES. By Father Drury. State of Kentucky, and out of

his rich experience he gives us
tli's little book.* Bishop Spalding in his introduction to it
says: " We know of no other book in which the doctrines of
^^t Catholic Church are so satisfactorily, and at the same
^nie so briefly, set forth." It is a well-written manual of the
f*'th of Catholics, inspired by the kindly spirit of one who has
^P'nt many years among inquirers after the religion of Christ.
"^he book is not controversial, or rather is the best sort of
controversy, an attractive exposition of the truth. No subject

* Wkat iM€ Chunk Teachts. An Answer to Earnest Inquirer*. By Edwin Drury, Priest
'*'1'« Diocese of Louisville. New York, Cincinnati, Chicago: Denziger Brothers-

390 VIEWS AND REVIEWS, [Dec,

of vital interest is omitted, and, besides, the chief devotional
practices of Catholics are clearly explained. We ask a wide
circulation for it, trusting that this edition in paper covers
will place it within the reach of pastors and missionaries.

There has been some discussion
THE MERC7 MANUAL, as to which one exercises the

most potent influence on the
affairs of a people — the one who makes their laws or the one
who writes their songs. Both these parties may be set aside,
in our judgment, for the one who puts into the most attractive
way the prayerful aspirations of a people. There is no higher
duty than prayer, and if the sweetness and charm of a devout
soul are exercised in the making of a good prayer book, the
attractiveness of prayer is made all the more alluring. The
pity about most prayer books is, that they are made amidst
the vulgarities of the shop and not amidst the sanctities of the
cloister, and their prayers savor of little unction. Mercedes,
who is favorably known for her many devotional poems, has
compiled a manual* of devotion for the Sisters of Mercy of
the Pittsburg diocese, but it deserves a wider circulation. It is
beautifully printed in the Convent printing shop, and it is
most elegantly bound ; but apart from the mechanical side, the
compilation is done with exquisite taste. The prayers at a
Communion Mass are full of unction. The wonderful "Jesus
Psalter," which can now be found only in the old prayer
books, is included in this manual, and next to the rubrical
prayers of the church there is no prayer that breathes such a
spirit of profound devotion. While this prayer book is admira-
bly adapted to the devotional needs of the religious within the
convent walls, it will serve .as well the larger prayerful public
in the world.

Like its companion volume on as-

M7SXICAL THEOLOGY. cetical theology, this present work

By Rev. A. Devine. of Father Devine's on mystical

theology t is solid, prodig^iously
solid. Immense citations from Benedict XIV., Scaramelli, St.

* Tkt Mercy MoHuai. Containing the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary and for the
Dead, and Prayers used daily by the Sisters of Mercy. Compiled by Mercedes from approved
sources for the special use of the Sisters of Mercy of the Pittsburg Diocese. Beatty, Pa. :
St. Xavier Convent Print.

\A Matutal «f MysHutt Tktelogy. By the Rev. Arthur Devine, C.P. New York:
Benxiger Brothers.

1903]

V/Etvs AND Reviews.

391

John of the Cross, and many others display the author's exten-
sive reading, and abundantly confirm the orthodoxy of his
statements, and perhaps thereby compensate for the absence of
all suggestion of imagination or literary finish. It is, after all,
intended as a manual for study, and whosoever investigates
matters of this nature wants secure doctrinal teaching and cares
little, as a rule» for anything else. For one thing we give
Father Devine our thanks. He has omitted certain demonologi-
cil lore found in Scbram and other mystical authors, which
is a disgrace to Catholic spiritual literature. He has had the
decency to exclude the moonshine about dtBtnongs succiibi and
danioties incubi, and has thus insured that pure-minded people
can read his book without indignation. Notwithstanding this
he treats fully of the more occult regions of his mystical province,
and entertains us with devout speculations on divine locution,
corporeal visions, imaginative visions, intellectual visions ; on
prophecy, revelations, and the gift of miracles. This part of
the treatise will be highly interesting to many. The most out-
of-the-way information is found there in abundance ; for instance,
that the angels know our inmost imagination, but cannot
penetrate to the state of our consciences, or the secrets of our
niinds ; that supernatural locutions are " always excited by
God in the phantasy by the composition or combination of the
species that make them perceptible," and that " Dom Mar^chaux
holds for certain that in case of any visible communication
taking place by the special permission of God between the
souls in Purgatory and the living, angels are always the inter-
mediaries." More practically interesting is the quotation from
Benedict XIV. declaring that many saints imagine, in all good
'*'th, that God has revealed something to them which actually
**s no higher source than their own fancy; and the author's
^'•'a opinion that a literal interpretation of the nine-Friday
promise attributed to Margaret Mary Alacoque is contradictory
^^ Catholic faith.

Father Stapleton's little volume* of
moral essays embodies an excellent
idea. We have hand-books of
doctrinal explanation in great
l>er, but very few good manuals of popular moral theology.

MORAL BRIEFS.
-By Rev. J. Stapleton.

By the Rev. Jolin H. Stapleton. Hartford, Conn. : The Catholic

392

Views and Reviews,

fbec,

Yet these latter are needed, there can be no doubt, and the
author of these expositions, accordingly, has been wise and
timely in seeking to supply the want. The book consists of
short, clear chapters which cover the entire field of the
Decalogue. The explanations are full enough to answer all
ordinary purposes, and the language is so simple as to be
readily comprehended by the untheological reader. We are
sure that the work will have a wide sphere of usefulness. fl

We trust that we shall not be considered unduly critical if,
in a spirit of kindliness, we indicate one or two features which
we cannot approve. We regret that the author has sometimes
permitted himself to drop into undignified English. A sentence
like " A short time previous to his death, Ingersoll sprang
one of his jokes on the gullible public," must make the judicious
grieve. And is it true that : " Hell-roaring Jake, our country-
man in the East, ordered all killed under ten?" ^

Father Stapleton in one chapter says that this is a
Christian country ; yet towards the close of the book he speaks
of the United States as a "miscalled Christian country." We
trust that his true sentiments are expressed in the former
phrase. We are a Christian country ; and in our judgment,
there is in our republic as robust and generous a Christian
public opinion as in any other nation in the world. AnothclM
thing that we deplore is the bitterness of tone in the chapters
on Catholic schools. It will do no good to speak of Catholics
who do not send their children to the parochial schools as
"the Independent Order of Catholic Kranks." Neither is it
exact or just to say that agnosticism and infidelity are the
"product of the godless public school." Agnosticism and
infidelity have a far wider and deeper origin ; and such intem-
perate statements only weaken, and grievously weaken, the
Catholic position on education. Moreover the theology under-
lying the duty of attending parochial schools is far from satis-
factorily stated. Finally, in the chapter on " Occultism," this
sentence occurs, which requires a good deal of explanation and
modification before it is theologically correct : " He who
subjects himself to such influence (as hypnotism) commits an
immoral act by giving up his will, his free agency, into the
hands of another, . . . This is an evil in itseif." To every
one acquainted with the theology of the subject, it is clear that
to yield one's self to hypnotism is not intrinsice malum, and

«903.]

Views and Reviews.

393

for solid reasons is justifiable. Notwithstanding these criticisms
ure repeat our testimony to the generally useful and helpful

taracter of this interesting book.
The question, how, when, where,
TEE APOSTLES' CREED, and from whom the Apostles'
By Dr. MacDonaW. Creed originated, is one of the

nicest problems in church history.
It calls for rare critical insight, wide erudition, and dispassion^
ate fairness. It is not a matter of dogma at all, and a Catho-
lic may take any position in the dispute which seems to him
best established. The weight of modern scholarship is decid-
edly against Apostolic authorship for this Creed. Caspari, Kat-
tenbusch, McGifFert, Harnack, Zahn, and the Catholic Semeria,
Certainly one of the most learned scholars in the church to-day,
all reject the traditional position. Dr. MacDonald • stands
firm for the old idea, and maintains that the Twelve drew up

I the Creed before they dispersed to begin evangelizing the
world. We welcome Dr. Mac Donald's contribution to the dis-
cussion with some warmth. Not many books — alas ! that it
should be so — come to us from Catholic pens in the more
f learned departments of literature. In fact, there is something
m almost alarming in the abstention of English-speaking Catholics
"Oni the intellectual activities of our age. It is a sign full of
L menace. We trust that this present volu.iie, which deals with
B a Scholarly subject, will be followed by Catholic productions
•rotn many other pens which will deal with scholarly subjects
L too.

H Dr. MacDonald has a good grasp upon Early Christian

H literature, and doubtless his book presents the traditional side
<5f the controversy about as well as the nature of the case
permits. The questions which naturally occur to a thinking
man who would satisfy his mind that the Apostles wrote the
■ Creed, are about these: i. Why is there such a silence as to
the Symbol in the earliest Christian writings, — in St. Justin, St.
Ignatius, and the Didachc, for example ? 2, Why does the
Creed differ in form when we do find it in later authors ? One
would think that so momentous a thing as an Apostolic docu-
ment, and a document moreover which summarized the faith

''Tkt Symbol of tk* Apostles. By Alexander MacDonald, D.D. New York : Christian
PfW Association.

Views and Reviews.

of Christ, would be sacrosanct as to its very words, and that
it would be as sacrilegious to change its expressions as to cor-

trupt the Scriptures themselves? ^

These questions, to our thinking, are answered by Dr.^
MacDonald altogether unsatisfactorily. He answers the first
by saying that the Creed appears late in Christian literature —
late, that is, supposing that it is Apostolic — because of the
Disciplina Arcani, the Discipline of the Secret, as that early
practice was called which forbade Christians to disclose their
faith and worship to unbelievers. In fact, we may say that the
whole value of Dr. MacDonald's book depends upon the estab-
lishment of his contention that the Disciplina was extremely
prevalent and extremely rigid in the very earliest Christian
Church, and that the Symbol came under the Disciplina. Now,
to prove this supposed extent of the Disciplina is something
which requires far more attention than Dr. MacDonald givesS
it. As scholarship grows in knowledge of early Christianity,™
it is less inclined to concede the wide field to the Disciplina
which it formerly was presumed to have occupied. Mgr.
BatifTol, rector of the Catholic University of Toulouse, in his
recent essay on the subject is quite at one with this new^
position. f

K And certainly against such a Disciplina as Dr. MacDonald
supposes, the difficulties from St. Justin are enormous. Why,
if the Christian religion was so vigilantly guarded, does this
great Father of the second century, in his first apology, diS'^f
close in the freest and fullest manner to a pagan public the
sacredest secrets of his faith ? And why does Origen declare
that the teachings of Christianity are better known in the
world than the doctrines of the philosophers ? At least these
are difficulties which impartial scholarship should have led our
author to consider. We regret that he passes them over, for
they threaten the very life of his thesis. The silence of Justin,
Irenseus, and the Didache remains as inexplicable and trouble-
some as before Dr. MacDonald wrote. He tries indeed to
maintain that both Justin and Iren^Eus refer to the Creed, but
we must respectfully declare that his citations are too vague
and weak to support that assertion. Equally inconclusive are
his references from Augustine, Peter Chrysologus, etc., to prove^
that the Symbol was included in the Disciplina. ^

In fact, his argument that the early silence as to the Creed

1903.]

HEWS ANDREVIEIVS,

395

is due to a rigid and intentional secrecy is dangerously like a
"boomerang," if we may use a word which Dr. MacDonald
applies to an argument of his opponents. For the Creed does
appear in Tertullian and Irenaeus, Why did not the Disciplina
keep their lips silent too ? Dr. MacDonald's answer is as fol-
lows: Both Tertullian and Irenseus give a threefold form of
the Creed; and they thus varied its language, our author says,
in order to mislead the unbeliever, and thus practically main
tain the Disciplina. We submit that this explanation, given
Avith no word of proof, can be accepted by no critical mind,
a.ncl does nothing to stay that deadly "boomerang" in its
flight.

This touches upon the second question, viz. : Why should
a Creed of Apostolic authorship vary ? Dr. MacDonald by no
means satisfies us on this point, as we just intimated. For
the variation is not merely a matter of words, but of articles
too ; and everything about these variations points to diversity
of usage and doctrinal preoccupations which are an almost
insuperable obstacle to Apostolic origin.

In two minor matters we feel obliged to pass a word of
criticism upon this book. The effort made by the author to
ba.se the Disciplina upon New Testament texts leads him into
some very venturesome exegesis. To say that our Lord referred
to a discipline of the secret when he spoke the parable of the
wc> man who hid a Jittle leaven in three measures of meal, is to
go very far indeed in search of proofs. And finally we
wouM respectfully suggest that Dr. MacDonald's language
at>out modern historical scholars and scholarship would be
"np roved by judicious blue-pencitling. To say of Harnack
that he is unfitted to discuss this purely historical question
because he lacks the gift of faith; that he "lacks the knowl-
*"&e, or at any rate the realization, of the fact that the Sym-
"^* Was not first given in writing " ; that he " reminds one of
*"^ blind man in the Gospel"; and to exclaim: "But what
"^^s Harnack take IreniEus for ? Does he take him for a
^*- ? '* — to say these things hardly measures up to the dignity
req^jjj.gj jj^ ^^ academic discussion.

W"e have certainly not wished to be severe in dealing with

*^ book. We have simply set down what candor compels us

^^ Acknowledge as insufficiencies, so far as we can judge in

*"^ Ttiatter. But once more we give testimony to Dr. Mac-

lald's scholarship, and vigorous intellectual activity. He has
opened up a subject new to English Catholic literature, and has

I dealt with it creditably. He is aware that his thesis is one on
which differences of view are inevitable, and he will conse-
fjuently not take ill our animadversions upon his side of the
controversy.

A pamphlet dealing with the ques-
WAS ST. PETER MARRIED ? tion whether the word "mother-

»By Rev. J. F. Sheahan. in-law," as used in the Gospels
in reference to St. Peter, really
tneani mother-in-law, implying that the Apostle was actually
marrtad, or whether it may not indicate some other relation-
ship, ought to be a dignified essay in Greek philology. There
ought to be no pictures in such a book, no flippant phrases,
no inelegant English. Yet here is a pamphlet • upon this
linguistic problem which is strewn with illustrations so incon-
ceivably ridiculous that we have not yet quite made up our
.mind whether the whole thing is not meant as a hoax. There

■ is a picture of what looks like a porte-cochere which is inscribed
*' Peter's house"; a viking galley is designated "Peter's
boat " \ a sad-faced old lady, somewhat suggestive of Whistler's
portrait of his mother, is marked " Peter's Penthera " ; a sage-
brush effect has under it the words "This is a plant"; and
two cuts of children are interpreted to us as " Papa's boy "
and " Papa's girl." This is an essay on the meaning of a

P Greek noun I Verily the curiosities of literature must make
room for a distinguished accession to their fantastic company.
The essay and picture- commentary itself ends thus: "It does
not matter to us what her relationship was, and as God has

■ not been pleased to gratify our curiosity, all that we can do in
this world is to be patient, and wait until we meet Peter iuH
the next world and ask him." ^

M. J. Fonssagrives has given us a

pamphlet f which is a summary of

the dark events now befalling the

church in France. It is an account^

written by an indignant Catholic of some of the sacrilegiou^J

disturbances caused by the execution of M. Combes' iniquitous

law. For example, at Aubervillicrs a Jesuit, Pere Coube, was

• Wv St, l^Htr U«trTuit By Rcr. Joseph F, Shwhan. New York: Cathwind Uk
Auodation.

A DEFENCE OF RELIGIOUS
LIBERTY. By J. Fonssa-
grives.

\ l^ JM/nu0 4« tt tM*^ iSa Cmtlt. Par J. Foassacrives. Paris : P. T^^.

'903.]

Views and Reviews.

397

■ to preach. Hardly had he entered the pulpit when the com-
I missary of police ordered him to stop. Others of the " Apaches,"
as this pamphlet styles the radical adherents of Combes, straight-
way set up a furious din, and some of them made threaten-
ingly for the brave and tranquil priest. Just in time to pre-
vent personal violence and perhaps bloodshed, the cure' besought
P, Coub^ to give up all hope of preaching to such a mob, and
to leave in peace. This appeal was heeded, and amid hootings
P. Coube descended from the pulpit. A few other instances
nice this are narrated, and at the end is an account of a meet-
ing of Catholic young men where vigorous and fearless speeches
in behalf of the church's liberty were made by eminent citi-
zens, M. Francois Copp^e among the number. This is the one
hopeful chapter in this melancholy compilation. There is
coiiTage among the Catholics of France, but it is confined, as
It "^w/ould appear, to a vastly outnumbered minority. There are
&l^^ras of approaching day, but it is still hideous night. The
Pa-mphlct is dedicated " aux vaillants defensfiirs dc la liberie dtt
"*^^e, aux divers groupes de jeunes gens libcraux, royalistes et
^f^^dsemites, i la Jeunesse Catholique de Paris." We wonder if
su^^'fc language will hasten better days for Catholicity in repub-

►J'C"^».n France.
Father Carson is one of those
B REUNION ESSAYS. converts from Anglicanism whose

By Rev. W. R. Carson, stories are recorded in Roads to
Rome, The book • before us repre-
sc*^ts an attempt on his part to further the reconciliation of his
fo*~rner co-religionists with the church that now possesses his
alV ^glance. In pursuit of this purpose he discusses in most
sy^Tipathetic fashion certain points upon which souls progressing
toward Catholicism are likely to strike and stick fast. In sub-
stance the ten essays are so many detailed presentations and
defences of the following theses:

That though there have been many apparent transformations
in Catholicity, none of them are realty more than genuine
tievelopments.

That the dogma of Papal Infallibility, as defined by the
Vatican Council, is most moderate and reasonable, and far
removed from the exaggerations of certain Ultramontanes,

' Jftuni^m Esiays . With an Appendix on the non-Infallible Dogm.-itii: Force of the Bull
Apostolicae Curse of Pope Leo XIIl. in Condemnation of the Holy Orders of the Church of
Ensianil. By Rev. W, ft. Carson. New York : Longmans, Green & Co.

398

VIEWS AND Reviews.

ec.

That the social aspect of Confession, as expressed anciently
in public confession, retains a place in the private tribunal
to-day.

That when God spoke in Scripture, and again when he
assumed a human form, and again as he dwells in the visi>M
blc church, he did — and at present does — in some mysterious
way adapt himself (by Kenosis) to the limited capacity and
imperfect noderstanding of mankind.

That Catholics lend countenance to a grievous error when
tiiej seem to rej^ard the Blessed Virgin as more capable of
VBfilerstUMlxai^ or sympathizing with their needs than God the
Creator, or God locarnate.

That great w^ht must be laid upon the arguments (for
Tkctsa and C«tlM»Kctsn3) drawn from the moral constitution,
die aataral postalttcs, and the needs of the human soul.

T^at AagikMS ought and are apt to regard the Invocation
of Santtsas a lawful and acceptable custom, when it is delivered
|(0C die &tal tendency (discoverable during the mediaeval
tiflies aad even in some parts of the church to-day) to place
the Saiats on a I«vel with God as bestowers of temporal gifts
yt«l (oattiini of spiritual graces, to be invoked exclusively and

abMhittly.

Tbat th« Catholic theory of saint-worship (whatever indi-
vidual ahu«* roay occur in practice) never regards the saint as
aa ohi«t *>^ re^'^rencc or love except as related to God.

Thi« »tt«»ittary will show that, at least, Father Carson deals
wtth Uvii>4{ questions, and though a professional theologian
^v ' '\ consider these essays as a theological work, they

^v^,^ uch to stimulate thought on some of the most

i^m^vrttttit tMUe» that engage the attention of the Christian
Wii^rKk at |*i««cnt. The absence of an "imprimatur" for the
|iOv>k l» ^l'*** prtHumably, either to the fact that much of
\\% v^M^UWin h»» already appeared in the Weekly Register and
iht A'kv/^otiUilHW AVmVw. or elie to some other unassigned

TIm* «\Uhor It of a very independent type of mind — which

U A livn^vl ihtng; and of an over-ready openness of speech — ^

whivh U »U»t aUv>j:cthcr a good, though certainly it is a refresh-

' !tkU, "^" ^^^^^'^ ^''' make for progress, and this is enough

i » »»\i<lf a muUilude of sins. Y«t we feel inclined to

tvM**^ ^'*» *l»*fi>c« of »uch a caution, discrimination, and tem-

1903.] Views and Reviews: 359

perateness of view as would have disarmed criticism of its only
dang-erous weapon, a good excuse. " How differently Newman
woald have written some of these paragraphs!" is our thought
as wc read ; and " If he had only been a little more guarded
in expression and dispassionate in tone!" is the suggestion
disturbing us as we realize that good modern ammunition and
precious British lives are apt to be spent in vain if kopjes be
stormed too recklessly.

In the essay on Development one fancies that a trace of
Loisy's thinking shows through " here and there ; if so, he is
'he one unacknowledged source. The rest are in evidence —
^ewman, Ryder, Tyrrell, Semeria, Wilfrid Ward. May Father
^^rson fare no worse than the luckiest of them !

Here is a little book • which may

SICK-CALLS. serve priests as a companion to

By Rev. A. M. Mulligan, their Ritual. Father Mulligan's

papers in the Ecclesiastical Review

^n the elements of medicine necessary for a priest on sick calls

Have been noted everywhere, and were the cause of no little

discussion. They are here gathered together, and, it must be

Confessed, they make a valuable volume. Of course, priests in

the course of their ministry, and the veterans in the service,

may resent Father Mulligan's information on diseases and

symptoms, and cautions, and signs of death ; but none the less,

the great majority of priests, young and old, will recognize

in these papers an extremely helpful and very handy pocket

manual of practical medicine.

Below t we name a number of
DEVOTIONAL WORKS. volumes belonging to the Methuen

Library of Devotion and published
in this country by the Church Missions House. The books
enumerated are too widely known to require any comment or

* SUk-Calls ; or, Chapters of Pastoral Medicine. By the Rev. Alfred Manning Mulligan.
New York : Benziger Brothers.

t The Christian Year. By John Keble. Walter Lock, D.D.. Warden of Keble College.—
Lyra Intiocentium. By John Keble. Walter Lock, D.D. — The Temple. By George Herbert.
E.G. S. Gibson. D.D., Vicar of Leeds.— ^4 Book of Devotions. J. W. Stanbridge, B.D.— .^
Seri«us Call to a Devout and Holy Life. By William Law. C. Bigg, D.D. — A Guide to
Eternity. By Cardinal Bona. J. W. Stanbridge, B.D.— TAir Inner Way. Being Thirty-six
Sermons for Festivals by John Tauler. A. W. Hutton, M.A. — On the Love of God. By St.
Francis de Sales. W. J. Knox Little, M.A. — The Song of Songs. Being selections from St.
Beinard. B. Blaxland, M.A. New York: Edwin S. Gorham.

400

V/EIVS AND REVIEWS.

[Dec,

recommendation ; all that our readers will care to learn is the
nature of the present editing and the publishing. Of both we
can speak highly. The editors are men of learning and posi-
tion ; their duty has been performed with conscientious care;
and the press-work suitably reinforces the scholarly labor spent
on each volume. Including, as it does, masterpieces of devo-
tional literature composed by Saints of the Catholic Church,
together with spiritual treatises regarded as classical by Chris-
tians of other communions, the collection offers the reader a
good opportunity to decide upon the breadth and fairness of
the editors. We are glad to be able to say that the books
which have come under our notice show a sincere and a suc-
cessful effort to avoid offending or misleading any of the dif-
ferent classes of readers apt to turn to them for help. Unlike
Miss Winkworth, Mr, Hutton judges it inadvisable to mutilate
the text of Tauler in behalf of Protestant readers, and Canon
Knox Little considers it better " to reproduce St. Francis' own
thoughts as he gives them," rather than to tone down expres- ■
sions or views that accord ill with "the colder and calmer habits
of English Catholics." A comparison of Mr. Blaxland's selec-
tions from St. Bernard with the Eales text, from which they
are reproduced, gives no indication that the principle governing
his choice was anything else than his conception of the spiritual
requirements of prospective readers. And in general we may
say that, as the announcement declares, the editors both in
prefaces and in notes set down " nothing distasteful to any
reader," although they do adopt "a definite church stand-point."
With regard to the translation of St. Francis' "Treatise on
the Love of God," due largely, it would seem, to Miss Ethel
Little, we cannot avoid remarking that while following Dom
Mackey's version with noticeable exactness, the new translators
occasionally and, it seems rather unfortunately, depart from it. I
For instance — in a sentence otherwise literally reproduced —
Dom Mackey's words stood "The soul sedulously deprives her-
self of all other pleasures that she may give herself more entirely
to taking pleasure in God." A clumsy sentence, perhaps, but
certainly no more so than the attempted improvement, " the
soul carefully separates herself from all other pleasures that she
may exercise herself more entirely to taking pleasure in God"
(p. 147). So, in the sentence beginning tine 13, page 159, the
alterations seem again unfortunate, e. £., the changing of "the

)3.]

Views and Revieivs.

nightingale which," into " the nightingale who." Possibly such
faults are due to hasty revision ; that there was some such
haste is clear from the note on page 52, where in animadvert-
ing on St. Francis' view of celibacy the editor spells *' celebacy."
But these are small defects, and the series, as a whole, is a
real boon. One wishes the paper a little heavier, perhaps,
especially in the volumes of verse, and no doubt one might
suggest other possible improvements, but when we reflect that
these little editions are really both reliable and handsome, and
that they cost only seventy-five cents in cloth, criticism is
hushed, and we render to editor and publisher the thanks they
deserve.

The Third Order of St. Dominic,*
THIRD ORDER MANUAL, which Father Faber of the Ora-
tory so aptly called " the order of
multitudinous childlike saints," is divided into three great
branches. First, those living in convents, and known as Con-
ventual Tertiaries; second, those who belong to congregations,
and meet at stated times, and these are known as Chapter
Tertiaries ; and third, those who privately observe the rule,
and these are called Private Tertiaries. It is for this third
class of the Tertiaries of St. Dominic that this manual is com-
piled. Fully twenty years ago the Very Rev. Charles H.
McKenna, O.P., prepared a Guide for the Dominican Tertiaries.
It was very full and complete, but was addressed more espe-
cially to the Chapter Tertiaries, Hence this new manual
was prepared to meet the wants of many thousands of good
souls living in the world, and who have not the advantage of
near and intimate association with the greater branches of the
Order. We have no doubt that this volume will be of great
assistance to the many who have religious aspirations, who
hold in their heart most sincere longings for a life of perfec-
tion, and yet in manifold ways are not able to withdraw from
the busy cares of this world, It is for such souls that St.
Dominic founded the Third Order; and it is for the best use
of their privileges and the wisest use of their Rule that this
volume has been prepared. It is substantially bound and well
printed, and is in all respects well adapted for the profitable
use of the Private Tertiary of St. Dominic.

•Th* Dominica* Ttrtiartet' Afanuai. Compiled by Rev. Raymond J. VolU. O.P. Som-
et%et, O.: Office of the Rosary Magazine.

V/Eivs AND Reviews,

[Dec,

IDEALS IN PRACTICE,
fiy Countess Zamoyska.

The author of this work,* a Polish
countess, devoted the best portion
of her life to the work of upbuild-
ing a system of practical training
of Polish girls which would meet the actual demands of life.
At Zakopane her school, accommodating 130 girls, gives post-
graduate courses in household management. The volume before
us is written by one, therefore, who has had wide experience ■
in the practical application of theories to life. The work is
divided into three parts, preceded by a preface by Miss Mal-
lock, and an introduction on Work in General. Manual, men- ■
tal, and spiritual work are then discussed in a way that is
rarely excelled in good judgment and directness. While there
is much sentiment throughout, the common sense, devotion,
practical reflections that abound, show us that the author has
the rare gift of reducing ideals to practice without losing the
sense of the ideal in so doing. The training of young girls _
for life is still an unsolved problem. The establishing of a |
standard of values for them which will enable them to place
religion, theatre, learning, novels, cooking, and candy in their
proper relations, is a work of supreme importance. We must
admit that, however good our systems and schools are, the
actual solution of the problem is yet to come. The volume
before us is intended to do something toward this end. The
chapter on manua! work seems at times to descend to the
commonplace ; as, for instance, when the ordering, repairing,
and cleaning of kitchen utensils is discussed. Yet when one
recalls the great number of young women who have not yet
had a first lesson in these things, the bravery and practical
sense of the author in not being afraid to discuss the common-
place becomes at once apparent. In view of the practical
character of the little work, one may feel disappointed in not
finding in it more about how to do, and less about what to do.
The work was written for Polish conditions ; it appeals to
those who know them. But one may say in honesty that the
volume is marked by rare common sense, a deep Catholic
spirit, and genuine love of the interests of the young. If read
with sympathy and reflection, it can be of great use to the
young and to those who teach them.

*Idtals M Practice. By Countess Zamoyska. Translated from the French by Lady Dom-
rlUe. New York : Benziger Brothers,

too 3.]

ViEivs AND Reviews.

403

To readers familiar with philosoph-

MORAL PHILOSOPHY. ical literature not much need be

By Re7. A. Castelein. said of a volume of ethics • which

bears upon its title-page the name

of Father Castelein. This present worlc of his practised pen

merits more than ordinary interest. It is concerned not only

Awith the fundamental principles of moral science, but very

extensively with many social questions of grave and pressing

import. Socialism is given a large share of attention ; as are

the questions of just salary, of capital and labor, of war and

arbitration, of church and state, all which Father Castelein treats

in the light of traditional scholasticism, but with a broad-minded

appreciation of modern times and present needs. For those

who do not care for the full discussions comprised in the editio

wt/or of this work, there is an abridgment which contains the

substance of the author's thought and erudition.

GENERAL GORDON'S
REMINISCENCES.

General Gordon's Reminiscences of
the Civil War\ is the most inter-
esting and thoroughly readable
account of our great war that has
appeared. Of course, as the title indicates, it does not pretend
to be a complete history of the conflict, and is chiefly con-
cerned with the battles in which the author himself took part,
^ut he was in the war from Bull Run to Appomattox, and
fought with General Lee's army on almost all its well-known
fi^^cis. Fredericksburg is, we may say, the only one he missed ;
*"ci he would have been in this, too, had he not been laid up
°y a wound received at Antietam.

But the book is specially interesting, not only becaufe it
corries from an eye-witness but because he has so eminently
the gift of describing what he has seen. This is notably true
°* his description of military movements. Most, indeed almost
*" soldiers, seem to fail most grievously in this matter. The
"'^•^-professional reader is usually lost hopelessly in a maze of
^^^Wnical terms, and of complicated statements, utterly unintel-
"8* tile without a map, and almost so even with one. But fiom
G^rieral Gordon's account one gathers all that is needed as to

^ liistitutionts Philowphia Montlit et SocialU Qttas in ColUglo Afaximo Lavanuiui Socittatu
Jttmg. Tradebat A. Castelein, S.J. New York : Beniiger Brothers.

t Rtminiiamctt of the Civil War. By General J. D. Gordon, of the Confederate Army.
Nf^ York: Charles Scribncr's Sons.

Views and Reviews.

[Dec,

the strategy of a campaign, and really understands very clearly
the tactics of a battle. Most people have very little idea of
what is meant by " flanking " ; but one who does not realize
its significance after his account of the Wilderness or Cedar
Creek must certainly be dull enough. His own brilliant idea
in the first of these seems to entitle htm to a very high place
among tacticians.

But the peculiar charm of the book is not merely in this.
It is even more in his admirable style, his perfect use of lan-
guage in every way, his fund of anecdote and vein of the
choicest American humor. And perhaps even more than all
this, in his thoroughly courteous and chivalrous appreciation of
the bravery and skill of the enemy, his hearty recognition of
merit wherever it is to be found ; and this without the slight-
est trace of self-assumption or boasting One can see the per-
fect gentleman in every page of his writing. He is always
considerate of the feelings of others, and want of this considera-
tion, discourtesy in short, is the one thing which excites his
indignation. J

• He attributes the failure of operations. on both sides largely
to delay at critical moments, not making immediate use of
opportunities, unwillingness to take chances. Some instances
of this in the war are quite familiar to all, but he points it
out in other cases where it is not so well known; and he
proves his points very well. Specially, he makes it quite
plain that if Early, at Cedar Creek, had not thought he had
glory enough for one day, Sheridan would have found it impos-
sible to rally his army when he arrived on the field after his
famous ride.

The fifth of the new volumes of
the Encyclopcedia Britannica • opens
with an interesting and suggestive,
essay by Benjamin Kidd, the
author of Principles of Western Civilization, on the Application
of the Doctrine of Evolution to Sociological Theory and Pro- ■
gress. The author dates a new and revolutionary impulse in, V
every field of human thought from the acceptance of the
doctrine of evolution. This theory of evolution is gradually

• Efuytlppttdia Britannka. New Voluitx'.s, constituting, with the Volumes of the Ninth
Edition, the Tenth Edition of that Work. Vol. vi., forming vol. xxx. of the complete Work.
New York: The Encyclopaedia Britannica Co.

ENCYCLOPEDIA
BRITANNICA.

1903.]

Views and Rev/ews.

405

becoming more comprehensive, he writes, and demands necessarily
a widening of the social conception. The law of progress in life
cannot be stated simply in terms of utility and present environ-
ment A higher controlling principle must be sought, and thus
the theory of evolution involves a conception of development as
applied to man's fundamental convictions in religion.

The volume includes histories, political and literary, brought
fully up to date, of Greece, the Hawaiian Islands, Holland,
India, Italy, Hungary, and Japan. All these are written by
representative men, and the last two are of particular interest
at the present time.

The article by the Rev. J. H. Bernard, of Trinity College,
clearly shows what little love or care some writers have for
the truth, or else what a distorted vision they labor under
when they do search for it. This author makes the Church of
Ireland, by which he understands the Protestant Church, one
with the ancient Catholic Church. The account is so grotesquely
untrue that one may afford to treat it humorously. This
Protestant Church, which termed the Mass a sacrilege, and
branded priestly orders as unchristian, has now " the episcopal
succession unbroken, and the continuity of the Church of Ireland
with the ancient Celtic Church is a historical fact." And the
proof? WKy, says the writer, "this Church of Ireland is in
possession of many ancient buildings, such as the cathedrals of
Armagh and Dublin." When Henry VIII. possessed the
monasteries by the title of robbery he must have been, at this
rate, a true religious.

Nevertheless, with becoming fairness, this writer grants
"that the Reformation movement was hindered in Ireland by
natural prejudice, and never succeeded in gaining the allegiance
of the Irish people as a whole." " National prejudice " and
"as a whole" are phrases that do more credit to the author's
cleverness than to his candor.

The article on the Gospels is quite sufficiently iconoclastic
to please the most extreme. A. C. Swinburne contributes a
learned estimate of Victor Hugo, but it is excessive in its
•"epeated superlatives.

The late John Fiske writes the article on General Grant, in
which he states that there is no doubt of the superiority (over
Grant) of the Confederate General (Lee). Ex-Secretary of State
John W Foster writes of President Harrison; John T, Morse,

4o6

Views and Reviei

[Dec.

of O. W. Holmes; General Joseph Wheeler, of the Confederate
General J. E. Johnston, and President Eliot of Harvard, of
Asa Gray. ■

So it will be seen that the volume contains a number of
noted American contributors.

The Century in its November issue published a notewori
article on " The Present Epidemic of Crime," by Dr. James M.
Buckley. The author discusses some of the causes of this
epidemic, and the paper is of interest just now because of the
discussion on religious education. The same number contains a f
sonnet by Prof. Maurice Francis Egan worthy of special
mention. The Century announces for 1904 a series of papers
by Dr. S. Weir Mitchell on the " Youth of Washington/' told
in the form of an autobiography. It will be a unique method
of writing, and ought at least to be entertaining. J

A. C. McClurg and Company, of Chicago, announce the
publication of an exact reprint of the second issue (169S) ol
Father Louis Hennepin's " A New Discovery."

The editing, with introduction, notes, and analytical index,
is done by the noted scholar, Reuben Gold Thwaites, who
achieved wide-spread fame through his work on the " Jesuit
Relations."

The edition of Father Hennepin's work includes two volumes,
with fac-similes of original title-pages, maps, and other illustra-fl
tions. The C.\TII0LIC World will take pleasure in giving
later a more extended notice of this important work. ^

John Lane, of New York, has just published a most artistic
edition of Henry Harland's The Cardinal's Snuff-Box . We
have praised the merits of this novel more than once before,
and we take this opportunity to publish our praise again.
Literary critics of unquestionable judgment agree that the
novel is almost perfect in its artistic workmanship.

The present edition is bound in decorated cover; printed on
particularly heavy paper, and abundantly illustrated by G. C.
Wilrashurst. The book will make a most welcome Christmas
gift.

The Month (Nov.): Rev. Sydney F. Smith writes on "The
Religious Side of Mr. Gladstone's Life." The writer
sketches the character of that distinguished statesman —
in the words of Lord Salisbury, " a great example of a
great religious man" — reviewing briefly his reh'gious
career, his deep and active interest in religious ques-
tions, especially the part played by him in the great
Oxford Movement, and finally his attitude, far from
friendly, towards the Catholic Church, and those who as
a result of that movement abandoned Anglicanism to

enter its fold. An article entitled " A great Social

Work " gives an account of an important Catholic social
movement in Belgium — its origin, purpose, methods, and
general results. The movement, which consists in an
organized system of retreats for workingmen in the large
cities, is interesting as a practical if partial solution of
a grave social and religious problem, that ol reaching
the laboring masses in our large cities and factory
towns, who, cut off from ordinary religious influences,

are fast drifting into irreligion and unbelief. " Merrie

England," by M. F. Quinlan, contains a graphic picture
of modern London, with its striking extremes of wealth,
elegance, and luxury on the one hand, poverty, squalor,
hunger, and crime on the other — " the richest, poorest,
and wickedest city in the world."
*he Tablet (lo Oct): Contains the Latin text and a verbatim

translation of the first Encyclical of Pope Pius X

An interesting series of articles on " The Popes and
English Kings," being a collection of congratulatory let-
ters of English Kings to the Roman Pontiffs, begins in
this number. The Roman Correspondent gives a de-
scription of one of the Holy Father's Sunday afternoon
sermons to the Roman populace. He also records a
rumor current in Rome that the Pope intends to visit
different parts of Italy from time to time, though the
Correspondent says this is probably more of a wish
than an intention on the Holy Father's part.

(l7 Oct.): A correspondent gives an account of the
yearly meeting of the Church Congress, a gathering of

English Protestants, which he describes as •* dismal."

Father Madan contributes another article on the diffi-
culties of some of the passages in the Acts of the

Apostles, under the title " The ' Greeks * at Antioch."

The Romiti Correspondent, writing of the approaching
consistory, characterizes as a fable the report current in

I Rome that three American cardinals are to be created.
(24 Oct.): Dom Anselm Burge, O.S.B., gives an appre-
ciation of " The Apostles," the new oratorio by Dr.
Elgair, recently performed at the Birmingham Musical
Festival, and favorably compared with "The Dream of

Gerontius," The Roman Correspondent records the

OOQStemation in Italian political quarters occasioned by
the indefinite postponeracnt of the Tsar's visit. ^|

(31 Oct.): A leader on "The Position of the Catholic^
Schools" shows this subject to be a matter of lively
interest in England as well as in this country. In ai^|

Particle on "The Communes of Belgium" is shown the
value o( the communal elections held lately in Belgium,
which resulted favorably to Catholics. In a very

» Interesting installment of the " Congratulatory Letters of
lln^Ush Kings to Popes," containing the letters of King
Kdward III., the writer, Mgr. MoyeS, D.D., explains
how it was that foreign cardinals obtained English bene-
fices. Cardinals were intruded into English benefices
not by llie high-handed policy of the popes, but because
I he English Church took this way of paying for a per-
innnent Roman embassy which looked after English
interests at Rome. The question of the Catholic atti-
tude towards the "Temporal Power" receives considera-
ble attention from various correspondents,
Chnrck Quarterly Review^ (Oct.): Contains an tnterestinj
article on "The Golden Legend," enumerating an abun-
dance of the naive fictions that have rendered that
manual of hagiography so unique, so famous, and sc^|
llliirtlrativc of the simplicity of the mediaeval imagina-
tion, A very sympathetic article on Joan of Arc,

lwiiilini4 her genuine sanctity, and apparently expressing
ii devout a desire as any Catholic might, that the pro-

iQOSl

Library table.

409

cess of her beatification may be successfully concluded.
The elaborate and scholarly dissertation on the His-
tory of the Holy Eucharist continues.
Annales de philosophic Chriticnne (Nov.) : P. Denis corrects the
errors of M. Janssens, who in the Revue Nio-Scolastique
attacked M. Brunetiere as the representative of a bad
philosophy, and the associate of men like Blondel, Mar-
tin, Denis, and Laberthonniere. The reviewer of a

third, enlarged edition of Houtin's L* Apostolicite des
Eglises de France says that the hour is at hand when
all books devoted to a demonstration of the apostolic
origin of certain churches in France (their claims were
attacked by M. Houtin) will be the most authentic
monuments of the most infantile credulity. A corre-
spondent objects to the criticisms passed on the "sacristy-
men " and "the passive virtues," and says: "I admire
the naivete of your correspondent who invites us to go
out of the ark. The signs of the times rather suggest

that we had better take refuge in it." A reviewer of

the four books just published by M. Loisy contents
himself with this statement: "The awful lesson in criti-
cism addressed to the Cardinal of Autun, as well as the
deadly comparison between the pages of episcopal prose
at the end of M, Loisy's book, and the answer of the
illustrious exegete, — ^these will prevent, or at least delay,
new polemics and manifestoes."
Y^ Oorresfioudant {\o Oct.): M. fitienne Lamy, in "La Politique
du Dernier Conclave," throws light on the true cause of
Austria's opposition to the election of Cardinal -Ram-
polla to the Papacy, Cardinal Rampolla, though not
elected, is said to possess the virtues and qualities
which are desirable in the head of the church.— —
"L'Attaque du Pole Sud," by M. de I'Apparent, is a
lively description of the preparations for the scientific
expedition destined to carry on geographical research in
this still unknown quarter of the globe. — — " L'Ideal
Americain " confides to us M. Bernard Lacombe's pri-
vate opinions of President Roosevelt's administration ; of
his desire to better the condition of the people and to
advance the American nation along moral rather than
industrial lines ; and of his conviction that a standing

410

Library Table.

[Dec,

army is a necessity if we mean to ward oflf ihe dangers

which might threaten America. " Deux Representants

du Dix-huitiemc Siecle," by Lanzac de Laborie, is a
critical analysis of recent publications regarding President
Henault and the Due de Liancourt.
DefHOCratii Chrclienne (Oct.): Francis Trevelyan, in an essay
on decentralization, gives a good exposition of the
political system of France. He calls attention to the
large number of unnecessary officials in the national
employ, and to the enormous amount of money that the
French people are paying for their government. Decen-
tralication, he maintains, would be a remedy for these
evils, for it would lessen the number of officials, lower
the annual budget, and allow the people to enjoy many

liberties which they now possess only in name. A.

Maselet. refuting Auguste Comte's Humanitarianism, holds
that answers to Comte which rest on definitions of the
church are of little or no value, since Positivists do not
recognize the decisions of the Catholic Church, and those
who acknowledge the church have no need of a refuta-
tion of Comte.
Rgwm di LilU (Sept.): Dr. Lemiere has gathered useful and
interesting information on the problem of old age.
An\on^ other things, he notes an advance in the average
term of human life of forty years over twenty-nine during
the nineteenth century. In the remainder of the series
the Author intends to discuss the result of the scientific
attempts to rid the world of the unwelcome spectre.
iitHtif^ (5 Oct.) : What French Protestantism has to gain or
lone by the abolition of the Concordat is discussed by

I'. Dudon. P. de Joannis gives a, brief but concise

outline of the theory of ions, the tendency of which is,
in his opinion, to revolutionize completely our ideas of

nwttter und its activities. There is an interesting

Aualyiiis of Tainc's political and social ideas by P. Rouse.
(Oct. JO) : The inscription on the monument erected
In inetnory of the Irish Brigade by Mr. Frank Sullivan,
In the cemetery of Fonlenoy, is found fault with by P.
lltiliiv, who reviews, at considerable length, the details of
llu» balllo of Fontenoy, with a view to showing that the
Irith, while they behaved very creditably, were by no

I
I

I
I
I

X903.

JBRARY

4tl

means the preponderant factor in the victory. P.

Tampe shows the far-reaching effects of religious instruc-
tion upon character in the preparatory and the higher
schools. The contradiction existing between the conduct
of the French Free Masons and their professions of
truthfulness and sincerity is strikingly brought out by
P. Abt.

(5 Nov.) : M. I'Abbc Loisy's remarkable book L'^van^
gile et I'jSglise, together with the sequel which he has
just published, Autour d'un petit Livre, is severely criti-
cised by P. Prat. He condemns, without qualification,
the attitude, the spirit, the method, and especially the
conclusions of M. Loisy, who, he says, has been perni-
ciously influenced by Kant, Harnack, and Sabatier to
adopt a method of exegesis which logically leads to
" une sorte de nihilisme th^ologique et de subjectivisme
absolu qui. pousse a ses consequences logiques, ne lais-
serait subsister ni I'Eglise, ni Jesus-Christ, ni la revela-
tion, ni la certitude, ni meme un Dieu personnel."

P. Tampe's study of religious influences in education is
continued. The part played by Clement VIII. in the
affairs of the Genevese, in the years 1 598-1603, is de-
fended by P. de Becdelievre.— — P. Cherot continues the
controversy on the battle of Sedan.
Iai Quiusaine (16 Oct.) : M. Salmon maintains the thesis that
the attempt of positivism to furnish a basis of morality
has failed, and the introduction of its tenets into educa-
tion has been injurious to the morality of the nation.
There is a fine study of St. Augustine, from the literary
and psychological stand-point, by M. Georges Dumesnil.

The biographical account of Madame de Miramion

and her active charity is continued.

([ Nov.): On the occasion of the tenth anniversary of
this review's appearance the distinguished editor, M.
Fonsegrive, in a prefatory address to his readers, after
frankly acknowledging the present deplorable conditions
of the religious struggle in France, dwells upon some
unsatisfactory features of past Catholic policy, and sug-
gests a modification of methods in order to combat the

present crisis. M. E. Vercesi believes that though

Pius X. is pre-eminently uti Pape pieux, in contradistinc-

VOL. LXXVIII. — 27

tlon to $4H Pape politique, he will continue to follow the

main lines of his predecessor's pontificate. M. Mcu-

nicr treats of Genoa, in his study of cemeteries as
reflecting the moral condition of the Italians. ^|

it Giniralt (Oct): The first place is given to an article
by Ch. Woeste, in which the writer presents some
phases of the anti-Catholic movements of history. His

■Ithesis is that hatred for the Catholic Church, wherever
found, whether in the Arians of the fourth century, or
in the advisers of Henry VIIL of England, or in the
French government of to day, has a common source^
and that source is in the contest of evil against good, of
error against truth. He shows that, while the church
hat always been experiencing those trials which Christ
foretold, she has ever had divine assistance, and there is
no reason to doubt that she will survive the difficulties
of the present hour, in accordance with the promise of

her Founder, A paper on Assyriology by A. J,

Dilattre, S J., one of the most interesting in this number,
contains a general history of the science, together with
a discussion of the more important points in its develop.

ment. Alex. Braun writes on the fiftieth general

congress of German Catholics, and after describing the
present condition of the great German societies, such as
the Volksverein, relates many facts of interest in regard
to the two former leaders of the Catholic movement,
Windlhorst and Von Ketteler.

ue dt'S Qiteitions Scientijiques (Oct.): M. Lecointe concludes
his account of the Antarctic expedition sent out by the
Royal Belgian Geographical Society. Accompanying the
report are the names of the explorers and the maps

made by them of the regions which they traversed. In

an article entitled " Individuality in the Organic Kingdom "fl
the writer undertakes to show the consistency of biologi- ^
cal facts with Christian philosophy.

ue du Monde Catholique (15 Oct.): Pere At, continuing his
series of articles entitled " Droit Canon Gallican," in which
he treats the organization of the French clergy from both
a political and an ecclesiastical point of view, gives an
account of the remonstrances of the clergy of France
against the political evils of that country during the

»903]

LIBRARY Table.

413

sixteenth and the seventeenth century. He cites in
particular the protests of many prominent prelates against
the abuses of the Edict of Nantes, and states as his
opinion that the many congratulations sent to Louis
XIV., and the general rejoicing of the people on the
revocation of the edict, prove that the mass of the
nation heartily approved of the measure.

Revue du Monde Invisible (Oct.): An article on the Sermon on
the Mount is written to show that although Christ pro-
nounced the word blessed eight times, there are in

reality only seven beatitudes. ^The questions and

answers of a long interview with Dr. Martin concern-
ing some of the great historical characters of France is
reported by F. Moenecelay. A paper entitled Demon-
ism is devoted to a consideration of the credulity with
which soms lenowned ancient philosophers, generals, and
historians regarded the supposed supernatural power of
the pagan deities; and gives the testimony of these men
to the so-called prodigies of the Greek and Roman gods,
such as the speeches made to the adoring multitudes
by Apollo and the Goddess of Fortune at Rome. The
writer calls attention to the way in which the Gentiles
are reproached with idolatry by the Apostles and early
Christian Fathers, and the protests of the pagans against
being charged with paying worship to lifeless statues
and evil spirits.

Stimmen atts Maria Laach (Oct.) : Father Pfiitf begins in this
issue an account of the Conversion of Christian Bren-
tano, which he bases on information drawn from manu-
scripts as yet unpublished. After a brief mention of
the several members of the Brentano family who have
figured prominently in politics, science, and literature,
the writer sketches the character and early religious
career of Christian, who he believes enjoyed far greater
.intellectual endowments than any of his famous relatives.
The greater part of the article is given to an account
of Dr. Ringseis' intimate friendship with the great con-
vert and the part which he played in leading the tatter
away from his atheistic philosophy and unbelief to the

Catholic Church. Father Wasmann devotes several

pages to a critical examination of the theory of evolu-

tion as applied to the question of man's origin. He
calls attention to some of the grave mistakes made by
many over-ardent supporters of the evolution hypothesis,
the chief of which are: i. The tacit assumption that the
question of man's origin is to be settled by the zoolo-
gists alone ; and 2. The assumption that the descent of

man from the brute is actually proven by zoology.

"As men," writes Father Mclscher, "we live a rational
life; as Christians we lead a supernatural life; but who
leads a perfect life ? " This question he answers by
considering, first, what constitutes " Christian Perfec-
tion/' and, secondly, what is meant by the " State of

Perfection." Father Beissel concludes his series on

Westphalian art in the thirteenth century.

Rassegna Nazionale (i Oct.): G. Morando, writing on Pope
Leo XIII., contrasts the rigor exhibited in the case of
Rosmini with the lenient treatment of Loisy.
(t Nov.): X. gives an interesting description of the
history of Catholic Scripture study during the reign of
Leo XIII., showing the various steps in the great change
of views, and declaring that the initiative given by the
late PontiS to historical studies will find complete recog-
nition only when that method is extended to the study
of the Bible.

Civilth Catiolica (Oct.) : In view of the difficulties raised by
modern investigators, and the liberal concessions made
by certain Catholic schotars as to the authorship of the
Fourth Gospel, the writer reproduces the traditional
proofs of the Johannine authorship, and declares that
this thesis is of irrefragable historical certainty.

5. -

The Work of the
Catholic Univer-
sity.

The hopefulness that was expressed when
the new Rector assumed the reins of office
last spring is attaining some measure of
realization in the spirit of earnest work, as
-^well as of concord, that pervades the staff of professors.

One cannot pass through the University halls without being
impressed with the fact that this choice centre of intellectual
«:ulture and religious devotion is sure to secure the best results,
^jnder the wise direction of the present Rector and his stafT of
^ble assislantSr The internal growth is assured, but what is
-useful besides the internal growth is the demonstration by the
Caculty that the University has a practical bearing on the relig-
ious life of present-day Catholics. The average Catholic is apt
to look on the University with the present investment of
^2,ooo,ocx) as something of a luxury, especially in view of the
fact that struggling primary schools are barely able to cope
-with the difficulties that beset them, to say nothing of the care
of the dependents and defectives with which every diocese is
burdened. If any one so judges, it is because he does not see
the practical side of the University work. To spill the oint-
ment on the head of the Saviour was a waste in the eyes of
one of the Apostles, but it was a manifestation of the spirit of
love, devotion, and penance destined to awaken a similar spirit in
the hearts of many millions in the religious history of the world.
But apart from this view there is a very pronounced
utilitarian side to the University. It can reach out into the
practical religious lives of the Catholic people. It can and it
will bring itself more in touch with the throbbing humanity
that is outside its gates. One sign of an existing desire to do
this is the practical way in which the Sociological faculty is
taking hold of the exhibit of Catholic Social work at the St,
Louis Fair.

The Catholic Church is doing better social work than any
other organization in the country, but Catholics do not realize
it and the philistines do not know of it. To place an exhibit
of this work under the eyes of the vast throngs that will visit
the Louisiana Purchase Exhibition Is a very evident demonstra-
tion of practical usefulness. Again, on the intellectual side,

4i6 Comment on Current Topics. [Dec.»

some evidences of the practical usefulness may be found in
the character of the work that will be done by the gentlemen
who have recently been appointed to the chairs of Moral
Theology, Archaeology, and Church History. These gentlemen,
Drs. Melody, Hassett, and Healy, received their training and
development under the Catholic University ■ system and are
some of the ablest sons of Alma Mater.

Then again word has come that Dr. Shahan's work on The
Beginnings of Christianity, 0r. Grannan's articles on Scripture,
and Dr. Aiken's treatise on Buddhism, are being translated into
French, indicating that the European intellectual world is watch-
ing with interest the work that is being done on this side of
the water. Still another sign of the purpose of the present
Rector to bring th^ University into closer relations with the
Catholic body is the desire expressed by him to have a great
gathering of the Knights of Columbus present on the occasion
of the presentation of the $5o,ocx) that has beeii gathered to
establish the Chair of Secular History.

No man can go to Washington and see that wonderful
grouping of buildings without being a better Catholic and
having a profounder belief in the glorious future there is before
the church in this country.

The meeting of the representatives of Catho-
Oatholio Xduoa- Uc colleges and parish schools held lately
tional Conference. .^^ PhJladelphia ought to be productive of
much good. The main purpose of the conference was to pro-
mote unification in educational work both among the colleges
themselves and between the colleges and the parish schools.

Many representative Catholic educators were present. The
executive committee was instructed to confer with the school
conference on the matter of unification, and St. Louis was
chosen for the meeting- place of the conference next year.
This was a particularly happy choice in view of the Catholic
Sociological Exhibit which is to be held at the St. Louis Fair.

At the school conference it was resolved that the conference,
now representing twenty-five dioceses, should endeavor to
extend its field to every diocese ; that careful study be made
of the best. means for the complete organization of the parish
schools; that all teachers should secure certificates frooi
diocesan boards of normal or regent examinations.

1903]

Comment on Current Topics.

417

There are some who believe in the " Branch
TheEpiaoopalCon- yj^go .. ^j^^ regard to the Episcopal
ference and the .

Catholic Church Church and the Catholic ; who still claim

the former is not Protestant but Catholic;
speak of corporate reunion as if it were a proximate proba-
bility; and, with zeal that is certainly ardent if not wise, sound
these arguments far and wide. These have prided themselves,
time and again, that they were fast bringing their church as a
whole to their way of thinking.

A Pan-American Conference of Episcopal Bishops was held
but lately in Washington. It included the representative
bishops of that church. Bishop Gailor, of Tennessee, addressed
it on the attitude of the Episcopal Church toward Protestant
communions. He maintained that the Episcopal Church was
founded on the Protestant principle, as he termed it, that the
"corporate life of Christianity grows out of and depends on
the life and experience of the individual Christian/' "I do
not believe," he continues, "that America is in any danger of
lapsing into Romanism. . . . When it comes to religion
(italics are the Bishop's), this country, I believe, is unceasing^y
non- Roman." The remainder of Bishop Gailor's speech is
devoted to seeking means whereby the Episcopal Church ra4y
be brought into closer union with other bodies and they with
it, but separated from the Roman Catholic Church; for "Catho-
licity does not mean Romanism, and this Episcopal Church is
not the church of the middle ages, nor the Church of England,
but an American Church."

The Bishop of Porto Rico re-echoed most heartily these
sentiments of his reverend brother in the episcopate, and wei.t
further into detail, and lamented that " our peerless liturgy
should ever in any way suggest the materialistic theory of the
sacrifice of the Mass"; denied the Immaculate Conception and
condemned celibacy and fasting.

After the discussion resolutions were adopted by the con-
ference — that is, by sixty bishops of the Episcopal Church —
and among the resolutions was one which ordered that this
subject of union be presented for consideration to the Protest«v
ant communions, " with the view to arriving at intercommunion
and possibly union of them and us."

We suppose that we may take the utterances of this repre-
sentative conference as official, and that members of the

Comment on Current Topics.

[Dec.

Episcopal communion, particularly because of their very name,
should take them in the same light.

The proceedings of the Episcopal Pan-American Conference
are an emphatic rejection of any " continuity " or " branch " or
" corporate reunion " theory.

France and
Religion.

It is growing more distinctly apparent every
day that the religious warfare in France is
being waged not simply against a particular
phase of the life of the church — the religious orders — but
against religion itself.

The enormous cost of supplanting religious by secular edu-
cation may be protested against by the thrifty peasantry and
bourgeoisie when they realize what it means to their own
pockets, and may cause a decided public outcry against the
government's course ; but we do not believe it will have any
noteworthy effect on contemplated legislation.

That the warfare against religion will continue to be waged
with increased bitterness we have no doubt. The article in
our present issue shows clearly the endeavors and aims of the
anti-clericals ; many of the French papers abound with pas-
sages that unequivocally declare battle against all religious
belief, re-echo with the deepest blasphemy, and lead the
reader's imagination back to the times that preceded the great
Revolution,

But perhaps the most noteworthy proof that the persecutors
strive to root out all religion is in a late speech of M. Con-
stant Dulau, deputy for Saint-Sever, who was entrusted by
the Combes ministry to draw up the report of the appropria-
tions to be given during the coming year to the support of
the church, according to the terms of the Concordat.

M. Dalau, on the occasion of offering this report, defended
the Concordat, and showed that they who were against its
continuance were endeavoring simply to root out of France
all and every religion.

The Concordat, he argued, is one with religion among the
French people. Religion is, in truth, the basis of morality
and conscience, and the blow that would kill religion would
recoil upon the Republic itself. The feeling of the great
majority of the French people, he maintained, is with the
secular clergy at least, and " the mere shadow of persecution

1903. J Comment on Current Topics. 419

of the seculars would immediately range the people on the
side of the persecuted." Again, if civil societies were formed
for the continuation of religion, they would be so many bodies,
independent by law yet inimical and dangerous to the gov>
ernment.

M. Dulau has evidently read history with some insight,
and possesses the faculty of projecting quite accurately into
the future his power of vision. His speech is a remarkable
one. Its arguments are the arguments of a politician; never-
theless they are deep, worthy, and unanswerable.

Of his own self this deputy would scarce have ventured to
deliver such a pronouncement. Undoubtedly he did so under
the encouragement, if not the orders, of M. Combes, which
would prove that the' present ministry thinks it has gone far
enough and is determined to go no further. But the present
ministry has had its majority through the Socialists, and Social-
ists will drive it to more extreme measures in this religious
war, or else cause it to resign.

The October elections throughout Belgium
The Belgian passed off with but little of the disorder
**> **"• and rioting which some had feared would
be extensive. The elections resulted in a decided victory for
the Catholics over their Liberal and Socialistic adversaries.
The Christian Democrats, known as false brethren among the
Catholic population, received but small support.

The importance of these elections for Belgium will be
recognized when one considers that over half the members of
every communal council throughout the country were subject
to re-election.

In the matter of civil administration Belgium is divided
into 2,610 communes, all of them self-governing. The most
important and powerful personages in the practical affairs of
the commune — the education of children, public improvements;
in fact, every matter of municipal concern — are the Burgo-
master and his councilmen. Every commune has the right to
decide what kind of a school it will have — secular or religious —
and whatever it chooses, that school is subsidized by the state.
So the maintenance of Catholic education for the young depends
almost entirely on the character of the members of the com-
munal council.

Comment on Current Topics.

The Liberals, backed by the Free Masons, made every
effort to gain a majority in those councils wherein Catholics had
a majority. They failed signally. Reports tell us that though^
the Catholics lost ground in a few places, they held everjj
council in which they already had a majority, and in many
places made considerable gains. The Catholic press is well
satisfied with the result, The Flemish peasants, as of old,
were most faithful to their Catholic traditions.

The result of the elections cannot but produce good effects
for religion throughout Belgium.

The immorality and the extent of the di-
aplsoopalinnB and ^.g^ce evil continue to arouse at least some
portions of the non-Catholic body. At
the AlUAmcrican Conference of Episcopalian Bishops, held
In Wnshington during the week of October 18-24, Bishop
DoAno Cl^me forward as the leader in the conference to amend
tho urewnt canon of the Episcopal Church, which now recog-
ntlft divorce on statutory grounds. Bishop Doane wished the
forbid divorce altogether and any remarriage of
persons, whether innocent or guilty. He spoke
\\{ the alarming increase of divorces among members of his
awn ctiitiniunion, and declared that under the present law sin
waa coiuniitted for the very purpose of securing a separation
Hiul gaining the privilege of remarrying. It was reported that
Iht: majority of the bishops of the conference were of Bishop
Uoane's opinion, and a resolution was proposed which would
inil themselves on record to that effect. But it met with
Btrong opposition, led by Bishops Potter and Mackey- Smith,
And the matter was allowed to go over to the House of
Bishops at the General Convention in Boston next year.

In the discussion Bishop Doane maintained that during the
first three hundred years of Christian history divorce was
unknown, and Bishop Sweatman, of Montreal, stated that the
Episcopal Church of Canada never permitted remarriage after
divorce. We welcome these evidences of a better understand-
ing of the moral teaching of Christ, and it will be seen that
the only solution of the difficulty offered is the life>long doc-
trine of the Catholic Church.

'^■fj^'M<:

1903.] The Columbian reading Union. 421

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

THE Most Rev. Dr. Healy, Archbishop of Tuam, presided at the recent
Catholic Truth Conference in Dublin. The address of most general
interest wis that delivered by the Very Rev. P. A. Sheehan, D.D., of Done-
raile, author of My New Curate, Luke Delmege, etc.

Father Sheehan took for his theme, Limitations and Possibilities of
Catholic Literature, by emphasizing the mutual antipathy that exists between
Catholicity and the modern world, so strong that it is almost impossible for
either the church or the world to understand ekch other. And then he put
the pertinent question : Are Catholics doing all they can to make their posi-
tion intelligible and their happiness communicable to outsiders? The special
circumstances of Catholics in Ireland make stfch intellectual action on their
part the more urgent. Material works, and even organizations of the strictly
religious sort, abound on a'l sides and show every indication of vitality ; nor
in these departments need we fear comparison with any of the churches.
But we have not yet fully recognized the vast importance of literature as s
means of conveying Catholic truth to the world. We have been hoarding up
our treasures without a desire of sharing them. The Lord said : Go forth
and teich t We are content to say, Come and learn \ But, the learned lee*
turer proceeded to state, he was far from wishing to incriminate the whole
Catholic community in a wholesale charge of indolence and culpable negli'
gence. On the contrary, he would take the opportunity of congratulating
the society, under whose auspices he was addressing his audience, both on
the noble work done by the committee and officials of the society, and also
oa their great and unprecedented success. Moreover, it was worth while to
point out certain limitations and restraints with which those writers are ham-
pered whose duty it is to defend God's truth, as compared with those who can
appeal to two great elements of popularity — passion and untruths I These
restrictions are at once our apology and our pride — they do not only embar-
rass, but they also shield, the Catholic writer.

Father Sheehan has no toleration for those who cry out : We want a
Bums I We want a Tolstoi or an Ibsen I Even as poets, he would not com-
pare for a moment Robert Burns with our own Moore and Mangan ; and nO'
man or maid need blush for the melodies of the former, whilst Mangan was so
scrupulously pure that he made the greatest sacrifice a poet can make by
watering down in his translations the rather burning words of German or Irish
poets. No I the cry of every Catholic heart must ever be : Perish art and
science and literature rather than issue one word that could originate an
unholy thought, or bring to the cheek of the innocent an unholy flame ! But
this is a drawback, a limitation within which we are strictly bound, whilst the
world wantons with vice and secures popularity.

Hence a Catholic philosopher, sitting at his desk, has to draw his lines
with the utmost circumspection ; a Catholic historian has to find the truth
amidst factious misrepresentations; a Catholic poet must guard himself

422 The Columbian Reading Union. [Dec,

against too daring flights of imagination ; and a Catholic mystic must be
ever fearful lest he should touch those bounds beyond nhich it is at least
temerarious to pass. Is all this regrettable ? Certainly not ! It is quite right
and proper. The church is not sent to teach art, or history, or poetry. It is
sent to teach and safeguard truth. It is the vicarious representative of Him
who said, You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free ; who
departed from earth to send in His place the Spirit of Truth, who would teach
all truth, and abide with His Church for ever.

We never hear of Catholic Science Societies. But we do hear of Catholic
Truth Societies, as if the very name Catholic were inseparably associated with
truth. Having developed this part of his theme and illustrated it by historical
instances, sacred and profane, the lecturer proceeded to ask whether within
the limitations indicated there is a field for Catholic literature. Has it any
possibilities ? And he answered, Yes, and a wide field, and many and varied
possibilities I Dealing first with the presentment of Catholic philosophy in a
literary form (and emphasizing in this connection the importance of style, if
philosophy is ever to pass the threshold of the class-room), he proceeded to
touch on the Drama, the Novel, and, above all, the field ot Biography. This
is, he maintained, a vast, untilled field, with vast possibilities. We know little
of our greatest men, and we want to know all about them. When you come
to that time of life when you grow tired of fiction you naturally turn to fact.
And the facts which have the greatest attraction for you are the facts in the
lives of your fellow-men.

It has been said that there is an interesting picture to be made out of
every human life, the lowest as well as the highest. We all like dearly to see
the inside of the mansion where dwells the human soul. The same instinct
that drives people to an auction drives them to a biography. It may not be a
lofty instinct ; bat just now we are considering how to capture human nature ;
and human nature wants to pry into every secret recess of character and
mind. But just here comes in the supplementary question. Granted all
these possibilities, good writers, wholesome reading, poetry, fiction, philoso-
phy, biography, what about the possibility of finding a Catholic reading
public ? Must we fall back on the ancient platitude, that supply will create
demand ; or may we rather hope that in an universal intellectual awakening
Ireland shall not be backward, but in her eagerness for light, more light,
create the light-bringers, the literary workers of this generation? There
could be no doubt of the fact that the spirit of intellectualism was abroad, and
there was hardly any more cheering sign for the future of Ireland. There is
but one remedy for all the evils we have to combat, and that is the enlighten*
ment of the people and the creation of a certain indeptendence or individualism
by which each soul shall walk its own way, undeterred by the fickle and
foolish opinions of men. The most interesting and stimulating paper was
very fittingly concluded by a question as to the choice of a literary career,
which was answered most characteristically, " You cannot suppress the Divine
oracle. Go forward and utter what is in you."

• • •

A Russian writer, M. Novicoff, has recently published a book which has
given great satisfaction in France. He calls his volume Tkt Expansicn

1903]

THE Columbian reading Union.

423

tf French Nationality. In it he shows that the French people, their trade,
their influence, language, and literature are thriving more than ever in spite
of what has been said to the contrary. The Muscovite author does not enter
far on political ground, but it is manifest that he does not believe in the
pernaanency of the Combes cabinet, which has tried to destroy the French
nation and to put France on the road to become, as somebody said, "a little
Deamark of a place," and without any importance. M. Novicoff points out
that England, Germany, and the United States are suffering as much from
decline in the birth-rate as France, but that France has the power above all
others of attracting to her and of assimilating people from other countries, who
ia time become more French than the French themselves. He also says that
Canada, Tunis, Algeria, and, in time, Morocco, will keep up French influ-
ence and provide inhabitants for France in the days to come. M. Novicoff
has likewise a good deal to say in favor of the superiority of French intellect,
and he believes that the clear, flowing and graceful French language will hold
its own over all the others, as it has been doing for centuries.

Books are the best presents for Christmas, and it is better to buy than to
* borrow the standard works of literature. To encourage the purchase of books
for home libraries the Manager ol the Columbian Reading Union has just
arranged with Messrs. Longmans, Green & Co. for a special discount to our
patrons, who are invited to call and inspect the following books at No. 91
Fifth Avenue, New York City:

The Christ, the Son of God. (2 vols.) Fouard and

Griffith, •••••.••

Saint Peter and the First Years of Christianity. Fouard

and Griffith

Saint Paul and His Missions. Fouard and Griffith,
Devotion to the Blessed Virgin. Bossuet,
Stories on the Rosary. Louisa Emily Dobr^e. (Part I. ),
Stories on the Rosary. " " " (PartH.),

A Child's History of Ireland. Dr. P. W. Joyce, .
When We were Boys. William O'Brien, M.P.,
Sacred Scenes and Mysteries. Rev. J. F. X.

O'Conor, S.J.,

The Worid's Unrest and its Remedy. Jas. Field

Spalding,

Nova et Vetera. Rev. George Tyrrell, S.J.,
Hard Sayings. " " " " . .

One Poor Scruple. Mrs. Wilfrid Ward,
Idea of a University. Cardinal Newman,
Verses on Various Occasions. Ditto, ....
Loss and Gain, the Story of a Convert. Ditto,
Callisto, A Tale of the Third Century. Ditto, .
The Dream of Gerontius. (Cloth.) Ditto,
«* " «« «« (Full leather.) Ditto,

RtUttl Net
Price. Price.

2.00
2.00
1. 00
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1.50
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$4.00 $3.00 $0.25

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424 The Columbian reading Union. [Dec,

The Dream of Gerontius. School Edition. Ditto,

(Edited by Maurice Francis Egan, LL.D.)
Present Position of Catholics in England. Ditto, . $1.25 .94 .10
Historical Sketches. (3 vols.) Ditto, . . . 1.25 .94 .10
Meditationjs and Devotions of the late Cardinal New-
man, . 1.25 .94 .10

Minual of English Literature. Thomas Arnold, . 2.00 1.50 .15

Spiritual Letters to Men. Fenclon, .... 1. 00 .75 ' .05

Spiritual Letters to Women, " . . . . i.oo .75 .05
Journal of a Few Months' Residence in Portugal. Mrs.

QuJlHnan {Dora Wordsworth) 2,00 1.50 .12

The foltowing highly approved works may also be obtained on application
to Longmans, Green & Co., and a special discount will be allowed for
patrons of the Columbian Reading Union ;
History of St. Vincent de Paul, Founder of the Congregation of the Mission

(Viacjnti.ins) and of the Sisters of Charity. By Monseigneur Bougard,

Bishop of Laval. Translated from 2d French Edition by Rev. Joseph

Urady, CM. 3 vols. $6.00.
History of St. Catherine of Siena and her Companions. With a translation

of her Treatise on Consummate Perfection. By Augusta Theodosia

Drane. 2vols..8vo, $5.00.
Memoir of Mother Francis Raphael, O.S.D. With some of her Spiritual

Notes and Letters. Edited by Rev. Bertrand Wilberforce, O.P. 8vo.

$2.50
The Life and Works of Dante Alighicri. Being an Introduction to the Study

of the Divina Comtttedia. By Rev. J. F. Hogan, D.D. 8vo. $4.00.
The Monks of the West. From St. Benedict to St. Bernard. By the Count

De Montalembert. With an introduction on Monastic Constitutional

History, by the Rev. F. A. Gasquet, D.D. 6 vols., 8vo. $15.00.
The English Black Monks of St. Benedict. A Sketch of their History from

the Coming of St. Augustine to the Present Day. By Rev. Ethclred L.

Taunton. 2 vols. $7.50.
The Life and Times of Cardinal Wiseman. By Wilfrid Ward. 2 vols., 8vo,

$6.00
A History of England for Catholic Schools. By E. Wyatt-Davics. With 14

Maps. Crown 8 vo. $1.10.

This book is designed to meet the need for a text-book which, while
giving a narrative of political events, should, at the same time, emphasize
matters of special interest to Catholics. The book, however, is a political
and not an ecclesiastical history.

Luke Delmege: A Novel. By Rev. P. A. Sheehan, author of My New Curate.
Crown 8vo. $1.50.

This is an exceedingly powerful and absorbing book. It is a novel, but it
is more than that. It is a great sermon, a great lesson, almost a great
drama. There is in it an occasional touch of humor which is very welcome
and which is truly Irish in its nature. Altogether we consider Luke Delmege
the m ist notable religious novel that has been written within a year. — T^t
Sun, Baltimore, Md.

I903]

The Columbian Reading Union.

425

Roads to Rome, Being Personal Records of Som? of the More Recent Con-
verts to the Catholic Faith. With an Introduction by Lis Eminence
Cardinal Vaughan, Archbishop of Westminster. Compiled and Edited
by the author of Ten Years in Anglican Orders. 8vo. Cloth. $2.50,

This is a most interesting^ collection of the stories of the conversions of
som2 sixty-five men and women, all of whom found the way to Rome from
Protestantism The story of each is succinctly told, and a comparison of bow
the light of faith broke upon them, to one in this fashion, to another in
another, is of surpissing interest. Nor is it without its instruction It should
have the effect of making Catholics appreciate more and more the worth of
their heritage, and to those groping in doubt or vacillating from want of cour-
age, it will bring the needed light and courage. — Rosary Maga2ine.

The Catholic Church from Within. With a Preface by his Eminence Car-
dinal Vaughan, Archbishop of Westminster. Crown 8vo. $2.30 net.

The little volume has a special interest of its own, a special value, for
any who care to inquire what ordinary Catholics of the world, well educated in
their religion, and familiar with the ways of what is called Society, have lo
say on the inner life of Catholics. — From Cardinal Vaughan^s Preface,

Works bv M, E. Francis (Mrs. Francis Blundell).

Flandtr's Widow: A Novel. Crown 8vo. $1.50.

Pastorals of Dorset. With 8 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. $1.50,

Yeoman Fleetwood. Crown 8vo. $1.50.

The Manor Farm : A Novel. $1.50.
The Sermon on the Mount. By Jacques Denigne Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux.

Translated, with a short Introduction, by F. M. Capes, from the Medi-
tations on the Gospels. Crown 8vo. $0.80.
The Path to Rome. By Hilaire Belloc. With 80 Illustrations from Drawings

by the Author. Crown 8vo. 464 pages, gilt top. $2.00 net.

The author herein describes a walk of 600 miles taken last summer from
the town in Lorraine where he was once in garrison to Rome, illustrating in
some eighty sketches the scenes through which he passed.

The books here mentioned are by Catholic authors, selected from the
general catalogue of Longmans, Green & Co. By sending ten cents in post-
age to the Manager of the Columbian Reading Union, 415 West Fifty-ninth
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warded by return mail. A pamphlet containing information of special interest
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:t>i

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD.

Vol. LXXVIII. JANUARY, 1904.

No. 466.

THE UNCONVERTED WORLD.

BY REV. JOSEPH McSORLEY, C.S.P.

IFFER as we may in our estimates of the Catho-
lic Church, one and all must agree that the
work she calls her own, the task she claims to
have been set her by Christ, is still unaccom-
plished ; twenty centuries have been lived
through, and as yet mankind has not been brought together
into the one fold under the one shepherd. Nor can a con-
dition so puzzling to the Catholic be explained by alleging
that outside the pale are to be found only such as sin against
the light. Scholar and saint alike affirm that many a man
dies as he has lived, honest but unbelieving. Indeed, there
are daily instances of persons above the average in intelligence
and beyond reproach in morals who remain utterly unmoved
by able presentations of Catholic doctrine ; and we, who be-
hold the church's appeal falling thus ineflfectual, are unable to
attach blame either to those who listen or to those who preach.
In the minds of some observers this fact begets a serious
difficulty. They feel driven to choose between the alternatives
of a very ugly dilemma. To them the church's failure to win
over all honest souls seems to imply either that Catholicism
holds no sufficient credentials of its divine origin, or else that
man has been left by God without the practical ability of arriv-
ing at religious truth. In either event conscience grows uneasy
at the suggestion that God's doing is inconsistent with his
planning — since one may not take refuge in the principle
of indifferentism and suppose that souls outside the church are

Th* Missiohaky Society or St, Paul the AfOSTLB is thk ,Statb

or New Yoxk, 1903.
yOL. LXXVIII.— 28

j'e<Ju.'a.\V*j ^ell provided with all the spiritual helps which God
J permits Xatholics to enjoy.

For more than one reason this difficulty deserves attention.
First, although dim and unreal to many a Catholic, it be-
comes to others a source of acute annoyance, wearing the
look of a mere gratuitous trial of faith and calling for the
surrender of that most sustaining of all religious beliefs, the
conviction that to them who love God all things work together
for good. Again, not a few outside the fold would find progress
far easier, perhaps, if the painful burden of this new doubt
could be lifted from backs already too heavily laden.

True, the puzzle cannot be completely disentangled; for its
deeper roots run back into that ultimate mystery, the problem
of evil; and, as we shall never know exactly why a race incapa-
ble of sin could not have brought glory to God, equally as
well as, say rather far more economically, than, the actual
creation, so neither shall we ever discover the true reason why
God's Kingdom, the church, is not co- extensive with his King-
dom, the world. Yet, although convinced beforehand that we
shall have to leave our riddle half unsolved, we may look to wrest
from the study of it at least something to make the situation
less uncomfortable.

Seeking for the motives which may prompt an honest mind
to hold out against the church's claims, we find that most of
the really redoubtable objections can be reduced to one or
other variation of the charge : " The Catholic Church is not as
holy as the Church of God should be." This plea, it is clear,
assumes the existence of some lofty standard of moral excel-
lence, to which the Church of God must conform ; and the
assumption is indisputably sound, since the dictate of a neces-
sary instinct calls for recognition by a sort of divine right.
With unerring confidence men declare that any such institution
as the Catholic Church professes to be, should stand forth the
noblest object in creation, a being holy with the holiness of
God, an organism endowed with the characteristics proper to
the mystical body of Christ, a bride without spot or wrinkle
or any such thing. When these demands are made concrete,
we find they amount to this ; that men expect a divinely framed
society to be far more heaven-like in appearance than critical
inquirers or sensitive believers will assert the Catholic Church
to be, here and now in the world of reality.

I904.]

The unconverted World.

429

In asserting that Catholicism, if of God, should in certain
respects be other than it is, men are right. So it should. As
divine, it should elect for itself vessels of irreproachable holi-
ness; its pontiffs should be an uninterrupted line of saints, its
bishops models of perfection, its priesthood spotless ; the Catho-
lic laity should be burnished mirrors of God's sanctity ; recrimina-
tion, self-seeking, division should be unknown ; never should a
sacrament or a devotion be aught else than the clasping of God
by a human soul ; simony, sacrilege, nepotism, canonical trial
should be terms uncoined. Since in the Creator's mind the
church must possess the characteristics enumerated, and since
that very idea itself begets the obligation of conformity to it,
any departure from this ideal in actual history implies the
existence of that which should not be, of that which by its
very presence justifies the charge that something is wrong and
some one at fault.

The human mind, then, rightly postulates an obligation that
the church be more like the realization of an idea of God, and
more convincingly divine than Catholicism is. About the validity
of such an assumption we make no question. The staunchest
apologist must concede a diflFerence between the ideal and the
actual, a deficiency in what is, as compared with what ought to
be. The one point for discussion is this : does the existing dis-
crepancy imply an essential, and therefore irreconcilable, difTer-
encc between historical Catholicism and the divine ideal as made
known through the God-given instincts of the soul ?

In the light of pure a priori speculation, we might perhaps
be tempted to answer in the affirmative. But after carefully
analyzing the instincts involved and recalling how frequently
and how significantly other anticipations have been corrected
by experience, we shall be more likely to conclude that the
historical shortcomings of Catholicism, so far from being incon-
sistent with a claim to divine origin, present an exact analogy
to conditions generally prevalent in the world. Everywhere
we find reality marred in the making; everywhere creatures fall
short of their innate possibilities; everywhere the absence of
such symmetry and integrity as must necessarily have been
included in a divine plan seems to belie the heavenly parentage
of things. Wherever God's design has been entrusted to man
for fulfilment, wherever human co-operation has been required
as an element in the establishment of harmony, there is per-

*30

The Unconverted World.

[Jan.,

fection wanting. Surely all this is a disappointment to heaven-
born anticipation, quite as truly as the discovery that the
church appears to live a human rather than a divine life. J
Deep instincts have bidden us presume that every being which ■
issues fromi the bosom of God will be sublimely good and
beautiful and true. In the inanimate creation, as in the living,
aj>d again in the spiritual order, we look for this, — our expec-
tancy resting upon a principle axiomatic in theistic philosophy.
Yet what is more painfully evident than that the universe is
not all good, not all beautiful, not all orderly? And from this
what other inference can be drawn than that the visible world,
though absolutely dependent on God, has been interfered with
and partly spoiled by the action of wills not controlled by the
divine will; that it has been defaced by creatures endowed with
the amazing prerogative of opposing and, to some extent,
balking the divine intention and foiling the divine plan. fl

We find God -given potencies checked and stunted, and the
currents of life turned into channels of destruction and death.
For order we see substituted a chaotic flux of things out of
w^tch, in the progress of history, harmony must be again
evolved tediously and laboriously, if at all; and it may be,
imperfectly, even at the last. The most childlike trust in the
excellence of ill's final goal cannot blind us to this. Is there
any lack of evidence to prove an evil influence at work in the
world ? Can this universe be identically what God planned it,
the exact realization of a perfect ideal? Ate divine wisdom
and goodness adequately manifested by the correspondence ■
obtaining between what does and what should exist ? The
thought is inconceivable. Who can accept it as part of the
creative purpose that the instincts of the human heart should
beget such sins as are written all over the pages of history ? d
Wiio can believe that God's will is responsible for the horrors
which leave their awful record in city slum and Turk-ravaged
village, in the torture-room, the leper-island, and the Oriental
harem ? As surely as the Almighty Being who rules creation
is wise and good, so surely does the world about us fail to
reproduce his archetypal ideas^ to fulfil his will.

" I found Him in the shining of the stars,
1 marked Him in the flowering of His fields;
But in His ways with men I find Him not,"

I904-

43*

Since this is obvious and easy of belief when secular affairs
are in question, it prepares us for a similar experience when
attention is turned to the religious condition of mankind. We
shall be in nowise astonished, then, if we find that the Church
of God has suffered from the action of the imperfect mind and
the fickle will of man ; that the human element in Catholicism is
not so convincingly of God as a divine thing must ever be; that
the mystical body of Christ shines less brightly when materiaf
vestments have wrapped it round. In other words, we are
ready to view, with more or less ■equanimity, the spectacle of a
church divinely founded, and yet somewhat obscured in those
prerogatives which normally accompany and witness to in-
stitutions that are of God.

As originating with the All-Wise and All-Holy; the church
must possess a beauty and goodness altogether transcending
human powers of comprehension. The representative and dele-
gate of the Deity, the Bride of the Lamb, the Mystical Body
of Christ, she springs into being, pure of blemish or defect,
radiant with beauty, holy with an evident holiness that bespeaks
divinity. Within her she possesses the capacity of a growth
that will be merely the progressive unfolding of limitless love-
liness and sanctity. No attribute and no circumstance attend-
ing her advent can impress the 'mind as inconsistent with
divinity. Every sound intelligence that grasps her native
characteristics must perceive that these evidence a divine source
of the life within her.

Thus it was^ — because, supposing the church divine, thus it
must have been — at the beginning. But then commenced her
human history ; and for nineteen centuries now, she has been
submitting to such torment and humiliation as demon like men
have chosen to inflict upon her — even as her Founder had
previously laid himself at the mercy of Roman and of Jew.
Needless to say, during certain epochs in this history, faith
itself has been staggered at the extent and depth and persist-
ence of unholiness in the body of the church ; at the venality,
the cruelty, the filthiness, and the hypocrisy of those who, if
Catholicism was divine, were holding the keys of the kingdom
of heaven as dispensers of God's graces to the souls of men.

This infidelity on the part of the human element has pro-
foundly affected the self-evidence of the church's claims. Her
growth has been very different from an uninterrupted advance

432 THE Unconverted World. [Jan.,

along lines of providential designing. She too has had her
Betrayal and her Passion; and the outcome of her agony, like
that of her Master's, includes an external dcBJement and dis-
iij^uretnent such as keen-eyed faith alone can disregard. And
as for the powers that rule the world, they have welcomed her
much as they welcomed her Master. Her face was set against
.them, and to bring her low they did .their worst. She has
:been in the thick of a lasting, and almost hopeless struggle
with the mightiest forces in the kingdom of evil, with the lust
iof the flesh and the craze of power and the accursed greed
,of gold.

Little wonder that her look is altered when foes have been
so stubborn, when children have so often fallen away. Little
iwonder that as she emerges into view from out the shadows of
the ages, nothing is plainer on her brow than the marks of
conflict, nothing more evident than that no church could come
from the hand of God in such a guise. She is stained with
.the blood treason has spilled, and around her, cloud-like, is
the smoke of battle — a battle that should never have been, a
ibattle provoked by man's evil will, a battle waged with relent-
less hatred and no little power. And so we find the truth of
Catholicism now obscured, the loveliness of Catholicism defaced,
(the holiness of Catholicism soiled by the doings of vicious
«hemies and unworthy children.

As truly as her Lord, has she shed her very life-blood
for men ; as truly as He, has she been humiliated and left at
times without beauty or comeliness. The splendid evidence of
heavenly birth which might so easily have been detected as
she stepped across the threshold of history, now at the end of
twenty centuries of struggle is replaced by a dimmer testimony,
intelligible to none save the few who realize that to bear thus
long the brunt of shock from world and flesh and devil, means
to be strong with the strength of God ; the few who under-
stand that nothing merely human could have defied or escaped
the forces arrayed against the church. But to these penetrat-
ing minds the analogy of history suggests the probability of
just such a condition as that which troubles and disturbs the
■confidence of those less wise — the condition, namely, of a
church facing a world which, with great show of logical right,
demands that further credentials be forthcoVning ere allegiance
be rendered. In a word, the inconsistency between what God's

1904]

The Unconverted World.

All

Church should be and what the Catholic Church is, ceases to
appear like a new or surprising problem, and becomes to the
careful student merely another aspect of the ancient riddle that
has baffled men since first they began to think :

" Ah, me ! for why is all around us here
As if some lesser god had made the world,
But had not force to shape it as he would ? "

The answer — if answer there be at all — ^declares that in
truth " a lesser god " has by sin and selfishness tried to remake
the world, and now is startled at the ruin he has wrought, —
almost convinced^ let us hope, that Nature is greater than man,
and that man had best give up the attempt to create, a new
heaven and a new earth.

Supposing now, that, as declared above, the church's testi-
mony to her own claim has lost some of its cogency in conse-
quence of her members having failed in duty, is there not
something to be adduced also with regard to the weakened
capacity of minds which examine that testimony ? Undoubtedly 1
The human element in the church— fallible, passible, change-
able as it is— must, indeed, bear the responsibility of having
obscured the evidences of Catholicism ; yet the blame is shared
by others too. We may recall that objects grow dim not only
when twilight comes, but also whenever one's visual faculty is
impaired. Similarly a failure to recognize the church's claims
may be traceable to some sort of astigmatism as well as to the
existence of ecclesiastical imperfections.

Long ago the principle was established that isolated reason-
ing leads no man to the truths necessary for the wise conduct
of life; or rather, that it is altogether impossible for a human
being to employ isolated reasoning and to proceed by strictly
logical processes in the formation of opinions. To the con-
struction of a man's philosophy — and no man lacks one — his
whole nature contributes. Inherited tendencies, acquired habits,
instinct and emotions, whether developed or repressed, each in its
measure takes part, as the will also does, in the laborious search
for knowledge. Noble and upright conduct ranks among the
chiefest elements of success in such a quest ; and the man of
symmetrical character, pure affections, and lofty purpose is far
better adapted than a reasoning machine would be to attaii

434 THE UNCONVERTED WORLD. [Jan.,

notions fairly representative of objective realities. The most hope-
less and helpless of all errors is that which proposes to reject what-
ever transcends the containing capacity of a demonstrative syllo-
gism. This holds as true in religion as in other fields. Qui
facit veritatem venit ad Incem — which is as if to say : " Men's
chances of properly estimating the claims of God's revelation
will be in some sort proportioned to their virtue."

What, then» shall be expected of a race which, though
originally sound, has culpably lost its integrity ? Ought we to
wonder if in the pursuit of truth it is halting and unsuccess-
ful,— >more unsuccessful than one cares to suppose God could
have designed it to be ? By no means. That sin is possible
at all may be mysterious enough to engage minds in an eter-
nity of speculation; but that men who have violated natural
law are mentally in a wretched plight, that sinners stumble and
err in doctrine, this will scarcely present a new difficulty. It
would reflect no discredit on an inventor, and cause no aston-
ishment, if his delicate machine proved to be unworkable when
choked with sand or rusted. No more is God's wisdom ques-
tionable because, ever since sin undertook the ruling of the
universe, discord has disputed the sovereignty of order and
law.

For sin introduced a foreign element bound to disturb equi-
librium. The constitution of things was shattered, the perfect
balance lost, and the human soul henceforward corresponded to
objective realities in a less adequate way than that which of neces-
sity had obtained so long as man was the unspoiled creature of
God. The sad mistake which rendered the spirit unholy, left it
blinded as well; and both these injuries, by an inevitable
fatality, spread infinitely far, to lay hold of every being related
to the primal transgressors and involved in the original curse.
As sin had tainted humanity at its very source, its infection
extended to each new member of the race ; it injected poison
into blood and brain and nerve ; it distorted the emotional
nature; it unhinged the will; it dulled perception and dead-
ened conscience ; and in each of these ways it struck hard at
man's power to estimate the value of evidence and to attain to
truth.

Moreover, in virtue of the solidarity which makes it im-
possible that a man should live — or die — unto bimseli alone,
our search for truth is affected not only by the original race-

1904.]

The unconverted World.

435

sin inherited by us, but also by individual sins of ancestors,
of neighbors, and of the vast millions under whose influence,
sX whatever distance of time or space, each one of us must
/all. Again, our native ability is further lessened by our own
past persona] sins, little and great, and by the resultant weak-
ness they have superadded to infirmities of inheritance or con-
tagion. Indubitably true, all this, if the Catholic faith be true.
Why the human will is free, and why all men are sprung of a
single stock and born blood kindred, are matters not to be
speculated upon now. What laws avail for the communion ot
^oods and how God interferes in behalf of a creature inextricably
tangled in the meshes of wickedness, are questions which lie apart
irom our present subject. The point here dwelt upon is this:
that if men are less capable, than seems proper, of perceiving
truth, such a state of things is on the whole not inconsistent
^th the teachings of Catholic faith, and cannot be said to imply
■an unjust equipment o( man by God. By some stern necessity,
•virtue renders the soul more capable of arriving at truth, and
contrariwise makes it incapable. Small reason for amazement,
then, that a race and a generation as sinful as — with all its
^virtues — our own is seen to be, should stray and stumble in
its progress; small wonder if many a one born with a right
to freedom and truth dies a bondsman of error.

The preceding considerations seem to possess a value over

<and above their possible efficacy in relieving the pain of an

awakened doubt. They tend, namely, to throw us back on the

"world of action for a means of lessening the difficulty still

further. What has been said reminds us most emphatically

that in determining the practical success or failure of a religious

propaganda, conduct acquires an importance far greater than

the mere logic of the situation demands. In the measure that

observers are known to be affected by the moral bearing of an

apostIe» in that same measure must behavior rise in significance

as a test of the apostolic vocation. If conduct weighs heavier

than eloquence or learning In the unbelievers' balance then

nobility of life rather than precision of speech is the greater

qualification of the propagandist.

The moral worth of Catholicism, its power to better lives,
the embodiment of sublime ideals in the persons of its repre-
sentatives, — these are the facts that will preach best to the

436 THE UNCONVERTED WORLD. [Jan.,

unconverted world, and they are facts, too, over which we can
best exercise control. Nothing is more absolutely within our
own power of determination than our goodness or badness of
life, and it behooves us to realize that this same goodness
tells terribly with the critical minds outside the church.
Each of us, willingly or unwillingly, is always gathering or
scattering, standing with Christ or against him, a missionary
of the gospel or a promoter of the kingdom of evil. The less
sin thrives among us and the rarer selfishness appears, the
farther and the more triumphantly will fare the banner of our
faith. Hence, in a very potent way, the missionary vocation
of the laity can realize itself, not alone by explaining doctrine,
distributing literature, encouraging attendance at service, and
incessantly praying for conversions; but with equal truth, by
resisting temptation, by striving for holiness, by spuming the
solicitations of evil. Each earnest effort to progress spiritually,
is less like a blow struck in private quarrel, than like an
impulse which ripples out in ever-widening circles, to spread
knowledge and love of God as far as the very boundaries of
human kind.

This is true of the mass and- outline of our conduct ; it is
true of the fine shadings, too. Not merely the observance
ot the graver precepts, but also the cultivation of sublime
ideals and the wide-spread ambition of heroic virtue, enter as
integral elements into the constitution of the Christian character.
As Catholics we are of necessity missionaries, and as mis-
sionaries we are bound to aspire to moral nobleness, just as
our leaders in turn are bound and irrevocably consecrated to
the pursuit of perfection by the acceptance of a vocation which
implies that holy longings have wrapped them round as with
a sacred flame from heaven. What further condemnation is
needed of that degenerate philosophy which, under cover of
the laborare est orare axiom, would make the priesthood's one
concern to be ceaseless activity? — as if external labors alone
could suffice for the culture of the spirit, and as if men would
not surely regard as spurious a religious system whose advo-
cates lack the halo ever crowning true messengers of God.

Therefore, such as have been personally ordained to preach
Catholic truth must take careful account of the instincts which
prejudice men in favor of teachings that iare lived as well as
preached. lUogically perhaps, but at any rate efficaciously,

1904]

The Unconverted World.

437

holiness of life attracts the earnest seekers after sound doctrine.
Conduct rather than rhetoric, then, will be examined at the^
final court of inquiry ; and only on condition that one has
edified even those who knew him best, can he be rewarded as
a faithful apostle. So a priest's trust has never been ade-
quately discharged while any possible measuie of perfection
remains unattempted.

And, as with the priest, so with the people — in whom
Catholic doctrine must always glow with its proper accompani-
ments of beauty and holiness. What more reasonable ? Surely
■the man or the society favored with a divine revelation should
be proportionately superior to others less favored. In honesty,
frankness, prudence, bravery, independence, industry, tender-
ness, generosity, breadth, tolerance, refinement, learning — ^in
these and in all other good qualities, the children of the faith,
compared with others, may fairly enough be required to prove
themselves more perfect, to seem better images of that type
upon which the Creator modelled man, like which he intended
and commanded, and has helped him to be.

Finally, another inference ! It would seem evident from
what has been said that the work of converting souls must in-
clude the attempt to exert over them other influences besides
those which tend to draw directly toward the church.

The unbelieving have not only to be introduced to Catholic
doctrine; they must be given new power to see it. Since
virtuous living is a condition of keen vision, the apostle must de-
vote no little attention to the moral improvement of those outside
the fold. It well becomes a missionary, therefore, to diffuse
among the people at large those spiritual agencies which the
church has used so successfully in the perfecting of her own
children ever since her work began. Catholic asceticism includes
more than one principle which may very properly and very
effectively be recommended to men for whom as yet there is
shining no brighter light than the ethical ideal, or for whom
as yet Catholicism is simply one of many legitimate forms of
Christianity. Those great means of spiritual development which
have been sanctioned by the church's authority and immortal-
ized in the practice of her saints, will prove, many of them,
to be far from repugnant and anything but useless in the
educating of souls without the law. Meditation and mortifica-
tion are instances in point.

438

THE Unconverted World.

[Jan.,

Be it noted at the same time that whatever is good in the
.native tendencies and whatever is elevating in the religious
practices of non-Catholics, these too may help immensely in
the work of preparing minds for the truths of faith. Nor are
forces of even the merely human sort beneath the notice of
the missionary, whose broad and tolerant sympathy rests upon
the principle that men cannot truly rise at all without rising
nearer God, It is in this sense a really apostolic work to
teach the multitudes high ideals of citizenship, to advocate on
its own merits deep reverence for law and public trust, to in-
culcate sentiments of decency, humanity, temperance, justice —
in a word, to assist the unconverted world to rise higher in
its own order and by its own way. Not alone in the interests
of a prospective proselyte, but for the uplifting of the whole
unlovely and unregenerate mass we have to strive. To the
profligate and the wanton and the tramp we are, indeed, debtors ;
and, if only to render these less brutal and more human, the
lives of our bravest and fairest should be offered up unflinch-
ingly.

Timid Christians may quail as the magnitude of this mis-
sion looms up, and they are asked to believe that on no easier
conditions can the apostolic vocation be fully realized. Yet
hope will hardly abandon such as have pondered the end and
purpose of it all. These can conceive of no task too big to
be attempted. "To be attempted," we say; because "to be
accomplished " is of secondary moment. Not to accomplish,
but to strive and to persevere in striving, are we sent into
the world ; on no soul can be laid a heavier burden. Issues
and outcomes are in the hands of God, to be determined by
other influences besides those which we control ; but as for the
labor, that is our contribution — wholly ours — to give or to
withhold, as we choose. Once we understand what God wants,
those of us who are truly his own will go heartily to our
work, however hopeless of accomplishment it seem. When at
last the day is done — let it have been apparently well- spent or
wasted — then we shall see with a clearness unattainable in the
stress of toiling, that God's dearest wish was one with our
highest happiness, and that somehow neither could have been
realized in any other circumstances than those which it was
our blessed privilege to accept and utilize.

I904 ] " The Vessel of Election,*' 439

"©HE USSSBL OF €liBGTION."
BY M. S. PINS.

]Y soul's Election ! choose Thou me as when,
Upon the fair Damascus way,

Thy lightning call
Fell on the ear of Saul,
And prostrate in the lush spring grass he lay, —
The persecutor dead, never again
To rise
Till blinded eyes
And stricken heart and cleansed lip
Found voice in " I^rd. what wilt Thou have me do?'
A new heart, tongue of fire, and unsealed view
Pass all to Thy celestial ownership,
Never again
To fail Thee, heart or lip or brain,
Thro' stripes and prisons, flame or sea's dark deep,
Thro' hell's unnumbered, envy-poisoned darts :

That prince of noble hearts
Couched on Thine own in many a raptured sleep,
And crucified unto the world with Thee,
The leaping sword shall free
By Roman gates, but, O impassioned lover t
His pen shall bear Thy name the wide world over.

440

A Reminder on the Philippines.

[Jan.,1

A USEFUL REMINDER FROM THE PHILIPPINE.'
COMMISSION.

The following extract taken verbalim from the Report of the Philippine
Commission to the President (vol. iv. page 109) we consider to be still of such
timely importance and interest as to merit republication.

The excerpt deals with a problem of unusual importance in the govern-
ment of any people — ^a problem which has aroused not a little religious
bitterness and which is yet unsolved.

The words and the opinions of the Commission here expressed may lead
some to change their adverse judgments both on certain past events and on
present claims of the Catholic body; and perhaps throw considerable light on
the policy which, as a nation, we ought to pursue towards the Filipinos if we
would do them justice.

The letter of transmittal is dated January 31, 1900, and sets forth that
the commission was appointed in January, 1899. The letter contains the
following passage : " One of the chief sources, however, for the formation of
the commission's opinion has been the daily, personal intercourse freely and
constantly had with (be people of ihc islands."

The ietter is signed: Jacob Gculd Schurman, George Dewey, Charles
Denby, Dean C. Worcester, John R. MacArthur, Secretary. — The Editor.

RELIGIOUS SPIRIT OF THE COUNTRY.

After this superficial account of religious statistics, we can*
not resist the desire to 3et forth, although very briefly, what
is at present and in reality the character or qualities of the
religious spirit reigning in this country, which owes all that it
is, aside from purely natural elements, to the Catholic civiliza-
tion of Spain. Moreover, the point is very pertinent to the
subject.

It is indisputable from the very beginning that the native
masses who have received the direct influence of the Spanish
civilization are wholly Catholic. The infidel natives are still
barbarous or semi-barbarous; and the Moros, besides lacking
the civilization of the Christian Indians, only retain of merely
external Mohammedanism their innate pride and treachery, and
a few formalities known and practised by a very small number
of their race. Those in the Philippines who profess, or are

1904]

A Reminder on the Philipptnes.

441

said to profess, any other positive religion, and especially
Christian distinct from Catholic, are not found except among
the foreign element. Therefore, Catholicism is the religion,
not only of the majority but of all the civilized Filipinos.

It is also certain that the Filipinos are sincere Catholics.
Their religion suits them and is agreeable to theni ; they prac-
tise it voluntarily ; they profess it without objection, openly
and publicly. The most remote suspicion that Catholicism is
not the true religion, and the only one capable of insuring
temporal and eternal felicity, is far from their minds. All
these Indians are in themselves docile to the teachings and
admonitions of their parish priests and spiritual fathers; many
good people readily and frequently partake of the holy sacra-
ments, and that many others do not come, or do not come so
frequently, must be attributed to neglect, to carelessness, or to
real impediments; but never to aversion. The ceremonies and
the solemnity of the worship attract them extraordinarily, as
do also the popular Catholic exhibitions of great feasts and
processions. They show, without any objection, but rather
with much pleasure, the pious objects and insignia of any
pious devotion or association to which they belong, and in
many places the women use the scapular or the rosary around
their necks as a part or complement of their costume. It may
be said that there is not a house or family, no matter how
poor, which does not have an altar or domestic oratory.
Among the Filipino people there may be careless, vicious
Christians, and those scandalous for their bad habits, and even
those ignorant of the essentials of their religion ; but there
are no unbelievers or impious ones, unless there are some, in
number relatively insignificant, who have gone to foreign coun-
tries and become vicious, and have afterwards retucned to the
country ; and even these have taken good care not to show it
until now, because of a certain remnant of shame, unless
among irreligious or sectarian companions. Finally, the three
orders, confraternities, pious associations, and old and new
devotions, have always had in the Philippines a great number of
inscribed, and even faithful and fervent, affiliated members.

The Catholic religion, always holy and sanctifying, works
in its subjects who embrace it according to the natural or
acquired disposition of the same. So that the defects of

442 A REMINDER ON THE PHILIPPINES. [Jan.,

character of the Indians, although they are frequently lessened,
thanks to the religion which they profess, hardly disappear
wholly, and even influence the private life and religious char-
acter of the natives. Therefore, because they are more super-
ficial and more impressed with novelties than other races, they
perhaps might be less constant in their Catholic practices, sen-
timents, and convictions, and they would more readily than
others feel the evil influences of false doctrines and worships
if they should experience them. They are prone to supersti-*
taon, on account of ancient bad habits, on account of the
proximity and -intercourse with those still infidels, and on
account of their puerile imagination and their natural love of
externals.

This we understand to be, in broad lines, the religious
character of the Indians of the Philippines.

Now read what has been said recently on this same subject
by another eye-witness, with whom we agree most entirely.
' Mr. Peyton, Protestant bishop, in a meeting of Protest-
ant bishops of the Episcopal Church, held in. St. Louis last
October, said, speaking of Catholicism in the Philippines:

" I found in all the towns a magnificent church. I attended
Mass several times, and the churches were always full of natives;
even under unfavorable circumstances, on account of the military
occupation. There are almost no seats in these churches, the
services lasting from an hour to an hour and a half. Never in
my life have I observed more evident signs of deep devotion
than those. I witnessed there-<-the men kneeling or prostrated
before the altar, and the women on their knees or seated on.
the floor. Nobody left the church during the services, nor spoke
to any one. There is no sectarian spirit there.- All have been
instructed in the creed, in prayer, in the ten commandments,,
and in the catechism. All have been baptized in infancy. I
do not know that there exists in the world a people as pure,
as moral, and as devout as the Filipino people."

THIS GRANTED, WOULD FREEDOM OF RELIGIONS BE ADVISABLE
IN THE PHILIPPINES?

Therefore religion^-and, consequently, morality — being so
universal in the Philippines, would it be advisable to introduce
liberty of religious worship in this country ? If by freedom of

1904.]

A Reminder on the Philippines.

443

religion is understood religious tolerance in fact, by virtue of
which no one can be compelled to profess Catholicism, or be
persecuted for not being a Catholic, but each individual may
privately profess the religion that suits him best, then this
liberty has always existed in the Philippines; and no Filipino
or foreigner has ever been forced to embrace the Catholic
religion. But if by liberty of religions is understood the grant-
ing to all religions — for example, the worship of Confucius or
Mohammed — and to all the Protestant sects equal rights to
open schools, erect churches, create parishes, have processions
and public ceremonies, with the Catholic Church, we believe
that it would not only not be advisable, but it would be a
lamentable measure for any government which may rule the
destinies of the Filipinos, In fact, if this government should
concede this liberty of religions, it will make itself hateful to
6,500,030 of Filipino Catholics; because, although said govern-
ment may not profess any religion, the Filipino people would
hold it responsible for all the consequences of this measure, and
so it could not be regarded favorably by these 6,500,000 Catho-
lics. They are fully convinced that their religion is the only
true one, the only one by which man can be saved ; and If any
government should try to deprive them of this religion, which
is their most precious jewel and the richest inheritance that
they have received from their superiors, although it may not
b2 more than permitting Protestant or heterodox propagandism
publicly and boldly, then they could not help complaining, and
disturbance of public order might even result from it, with all
the fury and all the disasters which, as is well known, this kind

I of war usually entails.
Two serious diRlculties may oppose the rights of Catholicism
in the Philippines. The first is the Americans who are gov-
erning here, and the second is the Filipinos themselves The
Americans enjoy in America the most complete religious liberty.
Why, then, should they not enjoy the same liberty on moving
■ to the Philippines ? We answer that each citizen should con-
form to the laws of the country where he lives. The Chinese
» enjoyed the most complete liberty to erect temples to Buddha
or to Confucius ; but for three centuries they have not had
such liberty in Manila. On the other hand, no Chinese has
been obliged to become a Catholic; and we may say more, no

▼OL. LXXVllI. — 29

A Reminder on the Philippines.

[Jan.,

Chinese has needed to make a show of his religion in order to
trade, become rich, and return to die in China. The same may
be said of Englishmen and Americans. If, in the Philippines, for
the good order and government of 6,500,000 Catholics, besides
which there are only 1,500,000 inhabitants, idolaters and Moham-
medans, who are still to be civilized, it is necessary not to
permit nor to encourage liberty of religions, the government
which rules the destinies of these islands should legislate in this
direction, for the laws should be adapted to the necessities of
the majority of the citizens. And Americans themselves who
mike their residence here should accommodate themselves to
this law, without any temporal or spiritual injury resulting to
them from it; because, privately, they could profess the reli-
gion which their conscience dictates to them to be the true one.
The English in Malta do this, where the Catholic religion
flourishes ; and, although the island is very small, there are
more than 2,000 Italian Catholic priests there, better satisfied
and content to live under the English government than under
the Italian government.

The other difficulty against the Catholicism of the Filipinos
arises from the Filipino rebels themselves, who in their congress
at Malolos proclaimed liberty of religions and separation of
church and state. Why, then, should not this religious lib-
erty be granted to the Filipinos if they themselves demand it?
We answer that they also ask for independence. Will the
Americans, therefore, give it to them ? The majority of the
Philippine insurgents were addicted to Masonry. They had
agreed a long time ago to work for the expulsion of the friars
and, drunken with the wine of liberty, they asked for all lib-
erties, including religious freedom. These revolutionists, who
have abjured Catholicism, how many are they ? They do not
exceed two dozen. For them the law of religious liberty is
unnecessary, because they do not profess any. The Filipino
people — that is to say, the 6,500,000 Catholics inscribed in the
parochial registers — -these do not ask for nor want religious
liberty, nor the separation of the church and state ; these are
content with their Catholicism, and they do not desire any-
thing more, nor would they suffer their government to over-
throw the Catholic unity.

This we have heard from qualified and accredited defenders

I904-]

A Reminder on the Philippines.

445

of Philippine independence, who even deny that the Malolos
platform was the true expression of the will of that congress;
that, on the contrary, it was far from being the total and
proper representation of the Filipino people. This people have a
horror of heresies and of all religious disturbances. Whoever
should introduce them would commit an offence. Therefore it
is demonstrated that religious liberty in the Philippines is not
only not advisable but adverse to the public peace.

In conclusion, if it be said that as regards the state of
reJigion in the Philippines there are points of public interest
which demand some reform, we shall not deny it ; but the
church has the desire and the means to remedy these supposed
or recognized evils. If by chance she does not remedy them
because she is ignorant of them, then any one interested may
make them known, and the government of the country sooner
than anybody else. On the other hand, this subject has nothing
to do with religious liberty.

CHURCH MUSIC: ITS PRRSENT CONDITION AND ITS

PROSPECTS. I

BY WILLFAM JOSEPH FINN.

S the legitimate place of music in the services of
the Catholic Church understood and appreciated
nowadays ?

The accession to the chair of Peter of a
FontilT who, if report speak truly, will lend his
liWtii«ot'o lo the growing movement for the revival of true
fi>it|»iln«llc«l music, makes the question apropos at the present
||lU«i. Since the election of Pius X. we have heard much of
llU •lynUlcimi patromigc of Don Perosi, the head and front of

1904]

Church music.

447

the new agitation for better church music. The encouragement
given to the gifted maestro of the papal choir has generally
been considered auspicious by those who are ardently longing
for the radical change which seems necessary.

And we, here in America, cannot remain indiflferent to the
new prospect. We have long been complaining that our church
music is in a condition little short of the deplorable. What-
ever may be the cause of the evil, whether it be an initial
misconception or a long-standing forgetfulness of the mind of
the church, the fact is only too patent that nowadays little or
no attention is paid to the original spirit or the one essential
purpose of church music.

The purpose of sacred music ought to be evident from the
very name, and as a matter of historical fact, the precise and
proper relations of music and liturgy were well understood
centuries ago. Its object was considered to be two-fold: first,
to stimulate, and secondly, to express devotion. It was to be
an integral, if not an essential part of the service.

It was the realization of the marvellous power of the chant
that urged St. Ambrose and St. Gregory, thirteen hundred
years ago or more, to such patient efforts in introducing it
into the church ; Ambrose teaching hymns and canticles of
praise to the faithful of Milan, and Gregory, even as pope,
himself instructing the youth of Rome to chant the divine
offices to the sublime melodies which have come down to our
own day associated with his name. For many centuries the
use of the august chant was universal ; it grew and waxed
strong. But in our days we have with consummate fatuity
thrown away the treasure that might have been ours. We
have made ourselves strangers not only to the chant, but even
to the ideal of which it was so eloquent an expression. We
have forgotten the essential and fundamental purpose of eccle-
siastical music, so far that it is the rare exception to hear in
our churches any piece that is a genuine aid to devotion.
Frequently, or rather, ordinarily — it is scarcely an exaggeration
to say it — the music of our churches savors more of the con-
cert-hall than the house of God, and suggests rather the stage
than the sanctuary. The sacred liturgy is not uncommonly
disgraced — in as far as it can be — by a forced association with
florid and meretricious musical compositions.

Circumstances made it necessary to grant a concession to

I
I

Church music. [Jan.,

modera music; but with characteristic assurance, the evil that
was tolerated has come to consider itself the only good,
and we find ourselves in the anomalous position of being
obliged to plead and apologize for the restoration of what never
should have been set aside. The music of the church has been
unjustly outlawed — ^nothing less^ — and in spite of the generous
efforts of its advocates, it finds an extreme difficulty in return-
ing to its own. And the difficulty is in this : that our people
and some of our priests have become so accustomed to the
intrusion of the stranger, that they are no longer able to recog-
nize the child of the house.

And yet it is a mere truism to say, that if we are to have
music in our churches at ail, it should serve the end for which
it was introduced, namely, to stimulate and to sustain devo-
tion. What means could be more impossible to that end than
either the hodge-podge of meaningless stuff that is sung by the
ordinary amateur choir, or the elegant but totally inappropriate
compositions that are elaborated, presumably for our edification,
by trained professionals ? It makes little difference whether
we have Thomas Jones' Mass in X or Haydn's, No. 2, in C, —
they are both equally out of place ; the usual effect is the
same — the annihilation of all religious sentiment.

If church music is to make any pretence at serving its
legitimate purpose, it must be distinctive and distinctively ren-
dered : distinctive; that is, having a tone and style of its own
incapable of being counterfeited by secular music of any
description. We must be able to know a hymn from a ballad,
and a Mass from an opera; distinctively rendered ; that is, it
must be sung by a surpliced choir in the sanctuary.

What we look for and demand is serious, fervent, expres-
sive music; what we get are quasi -operatic selections, and dis-
plays of vocal pyrotechnics. From our hearts we can sympa-
thize with the sentiment of a recent writer in the London Tablet^
who indignantly demands to know why " if they (the people in
the choir gallery) won't help me, they cannot let me alone ? '*
Better to have no music than music that prevents devotion.

The enthusiasts for figured music will declare that the
majority of people enjoy and profit by the music they get.
But let the enthusiast mix with the crowd, and hear the
remarks, — " What an interminable Credo that was ! They must
have sung Amen at least twenty times ! And did you see how

I904.]

Church Music.

449

long they kept the celebrant waiting at the offertory ?" etc., etc.
We have heard them universally and persistently. And the
contagion of discontent, if one has but eyes to see it, is
spreading. The same writer in the London Tablet, quoted
above, declares that in his annoyance and indignation against
frivolous church music he " meets with never-failing sympathy
from a m-iltitude of equally impatient fellow-sufferers."

$ J^

;«tt8i

I
I

Chokus of St. Paul the Aj'osti.e.

The consequence is that people avoid High Mass and Ves-
pers. It would surprise .<5ome pastors to know that in many
cases their earnest efforts to get a large part of the congrega-
tion to High Mass are frustrated by the music, which may
pDssibly appeal to the musical critic, but can only be a source
of great distraction to the ordinary worshipper.

But why argue it out ? The necessity of distinctive music
will not be called into question by any one who has given
thought to the subject. It is evident that if the divine service
is to be an organic whole, liturgy, ritual, sermon, music ought
to be of a piece. The music should be regulated by special,
pertinent, and consistent rules of composition, and be judged
by one simple criterion: that of harmony with or dissonance
from the spirit of worship.

Now, the church has her own proper music which she
officially recommends, and to which she points as the true,
the ideal ecclesiastical music; and that is the Gregorian Chant.
This chant has been professedly chosen because it combines
all the peculiar properties which make music worthy to be
associated with the celebration of the divine mysteries. It is
solemn and grave, in keeping with the dignity of its office:

450

.HURCH

[Jan.,

full of marvellous and majestic beauty ; sorrowful, plaintive,
joyful, exultant, triumphant ; it runs the whole gamut of the
reJigious emotions: sorrow, joy, contrition; it pleads for mercy;
it sobs with sorrow ; it rejoices with joy ; it rises to ecstasy ;
never light or frivolous, never gaudy or extravagant, but always
serving its sacred purpose, to edify and excite piety in the
worshippers.

Based on the musical system of the ancient Greeks, it was
composed, as tradition has it, by St. Gregory the Great, for
use in the church exclusively, and therefore it is unsuitable
for anything else. Music halls do not ring with its strains; this
chant is never heard in places of amusement ; for it is essen-
tially and thoroughly ecclesiastical, and ecclesiastical alone.

However, we cannot claim with the extreme purist that all
music not Gregorian should be excluded from our services. It
is not necessary to be more Catholic than the Catholic Church,
and the church has not said, "Exclude everything not bearing
the stamp of Gregorian " ; she rather lays down certain canons,
so to speak, for the correct use of modern music.

The mind of the church was well expressed in a letter of the
Congregation of Rites to the Italian bishops in 1884:

" Figured vocal music which is allowed by the church is
that only whose grave and pious strains are suited to the
house of the Lord, to the divine praises, and which, by follow-
ing the meaning of the sacred words, helps to excite the people
to devotion." Thus it is obvious that we are not obliged to
exclude all modern music from use at our services. None the
less, it cannot be doubted that the attitude of the church
towards modern music is one of toleration, while her generous
and unhesitating approbation is reserved for what she considers
properly her own^ — ^the Gregorian Chant. Judging from the
conditions that confront us, especially in our own country, one
might well suppose that the facts were reversed; that the
church hid given her official recommendation to modern music
for the churches, and had relegated the Gregorian Chant to
monasteries and seminaries.

It is pleasant, however, to be able to say, that in other
lands conditions are giving some promise of righting them-
selves. In 1868 the eminent Dr. Witt formed the society of
the Cacilien-Vetein, to clear the church of what he called
" unholy, and, for the most part, blasphemous music," and the
efforts of this Bavarian priest, as representing a protest against

I
I

I904.]

Church Music.

451

the prevailing condition of church music, were blessed by Pius
IX. The Rev. Father Haberl, the noted choir-master of Ratis-
bon, has labored consistently and zealously for a wider diffusion
of the true ideals of ecclesiastical music. In France, the Bene-
dictines of Solesmes, who have, indeed, never in their long
career compromised with the genius of ungodly music, have for
some years past been especially occupied with a thorough
historical and scientific study of the chant, with the view of
making its restoration possible.

In the British Isles, too, the place of the chant is becoming
more appreciated. I have already referred to the London
Tablet as a prominent organ of the new agitation. Almost
weekly it contains forceful articles on the subject, indicating
that the importance of good church music is felt throughout
the kingJom. At Westminster Cathedral one may hear, on
any Sunday, the beautiful strains of the Solesmes Chant sung
by a well- trained choir of boys and men. Across the Channel,
in Dublin at the pro- cathedral, a chancel choir has been
organized, which renders the liturgical music with great effect.

With such achievements — or at least beginnings — before our
eyes, why may we not be encouraged to undertake similar
works in this country ?

Clearly, it cannot be urged in opposition to the longed-for
revival, that plain chant is a thing of the past, for as long as
the Mass retains the liturgical construction it has had from
venerable antiquity, so long the chant, which was created and
perfected for no other purpose than to fit the liturgy, must
remain the peculiar and the most worthy companion of the
noble religious service of the church.

But, to come to a further consideration, ecclesiastical music
demands an ecclesiastical choir. Beyond the demand for a
strictly ecclesiastical music, there is a necessity for an appropriate
and unique rendering of the chant ; a necessity based upon
the philosophical fact of the power of association. An opera,
dragged from the stage, chopped into pieces, and sung in
concert form, without setting or special costuming, loses much
of its force. A pari then, the ecclesiastical chant can have
its full effect only if it be rendered in special, appropriate sur-
roundings; and its only true setting, its native place, is the
sanctuary.

It would seem that there can scarcely be two opinions on
this matter. Granted the necessity of a distinctively ecclesiasti-

45*

Church Music.

Ian.,

cal music, the necessary complement is a distinctively ecclesiasti-
cal rendition, and such a rendition, of course, means a boy-
choir placed in the sanctuary.

But here is the crux of the situation. Here begins the
flood of objections, here enters the element of prejudice, here
are exposed the not unnatural pride and pique and selfishness
that militate so strongly against any radical change in the
existing scheme. One cannot advocate a sanctuary boy- choir
without arguing for the abolition of the mixed choir, and it
woLild be no enviable distinction to be the prominent object of
the attack of all the indisriduals whose glory and pride and
profits are involved in the permanence of the existing condition.
And yet we cannot dissemble; we will not minimize the con-
sequences of an advocacy of a general adoption of boy choirs.
It means, to say it plainly, the abolition of at least the
"better-half," so to speak, of the mixed choirs. Compromise
we can see none. Apart from the impossibility of inviting h
women into the sanctuary, we are forced to maintain that the V
feminine voice, even at its glorious best, lacks just the essential
timbre that is demanded in true church music. It is an undeni-
able fact that the boy's voice contains this element and is
immeasurably better adapted for the singing of sacred music.
This is the frank statement of our idea on the subject, and having
discharged our shot, we are glad to retire, for a moment,
under cover of the defence of an undoubtedly eminent authority
— no less a musician than Madame Melba. She had Just sung at I
the Solemn Mass in a certain church, and the clergy were,
naturally enough, spicing the expression of their gratitude with
compliments and with wishes that such a glorious voice as hers
might contribute oftener to the dignity and grandeur of the
divine service. Imagine their surprise and chagrin when the
prima donna gently rebuked them, convicting them of lack of
taste in permitting any female voice to be heard during the
sacred solemnity of the Mass ! She said that the boy's voice
was much purer and sweeter, and altogether more suited for
religious services; that the surpliced choir was more in keeping
with the sacred character of the ceremonies, and that a woman's
voice, trained to perfection though it be, must of necessity
remain to the end unfitted for the peculiar function of inter-
preting the spirit of strictly sacred music.

The point is undeniably well taken ; the timbre of the
voices of a mixed choir does not differ from that of the voices

1904]

Church music.

453

Chorus of the Church of the Assumi-tion, Morristown, N. J.

which we are accustomed to hear at secular amusements, while,
on the other hand, in the tones of a trained boy- choir we have
something distinct ; something which we begin to associate, not
from habit alone but from instinct, with the sanctuary and its
music. A mixed choir is bound to lead our thoughts to the
organ loft, while a chancel choir, by its location, its appeal to
the eye, its tone quality, by its tout ensemble, holds our atten-
tion to the progress of the sacred ritual. Instead of defying
the philosophical principle of the association of ideas, we ought
to cherish it, use it, summon it to serve the lofty purpose of
raising the mind even to the contemplation of the things of
God.

But now we are come into contact with the eternal and
inevitable objections. " Well enough," says the sceptic, " to
talk about the ideal possibilities of the boy's voice, but the
plain, hard fact is that the chest voice of the ordinary boy
can never be so modified and refined as to become fit for
public singing." Now we dare maintain that, in spite of long-
standing suspicions to the contrary, boys, and ordinary boys,
can be trained to sing with superb flexibility and sweetness.
And again, we are glad to take refuge behind the authority of

454

Church Music.

[Jan.,

a few great names — Bartiby, Stainer, Curwen, Whitney, Roney
—who have devoted the energy and attention of years to this
branch of their profession, and declare it to be their experience
that it is possible to train any healthy, every- day boy to sing
in the proper register. The almost universal use of the chancel
choir in the Anglican Church is in itself a great proof of the
possibilities of the boy's voice. Boys can develop voices full
of such sweetness as can be found nowhere else — this is a fact
not generally known among our people; preconceived notions
are against it, and, consequently, many are sceptical and slow
to receive it.

A prominent organist of one of our large cities once said
to the writer that it was impossible to bring a boy's voice
above F on the fifth line. If this were true, the most ordinary
music would extend beyond the boys' range, and the question
of their employment in the church would be closed. But it is
not true ; had that same gentleman gone the next Sunday to
a certain church not far distant from his own, he would have
heard the soprano boys soar to a high A with the utmost ease
and perfect grace. While, when necessity demands, many boys M
can take B flat with facility; indeed, the writer has heard a"
choir, at rehearsal, sing a high C sharp without apparent diffi-
culty. It has been well said by a recognized authority, that
"there is no top to a boy's voice." No; the possibility of
training boys to sing acceptably and with effect presents no
difficulty.

"But did you ever hear a boy-choir flat?" asks our scep-
tical friend. Yes; but a skilful choir-master can so train
the boys that they will never fall from the given key;
while — with regard to the women — the writer has a very
vivid recollection of the futile efforts of a great Catholic musi-
cian of this country to soften the piercing tone- quality of bis
sopranos. And not once or twice, but as often as occasion
brought him to a certain cathedral church, he has heard a
Catholic sanctuary choir sing unaccompanied long psalms, offer-
tories, processional anthems, etc., without departing at all from
the original pitch. Another — a non-Catholic choir with which
he is familiar — sings every Wednesday evening in Lent a long
litany in procession, without the organ, always maintaining
throughout the given pitch. To say that a boy-choir can sing
Bach's music without flatting, is to allege a strong argument i

I904.]

Church Music.

455

I
I

favor of the boys ; and yet this is no extraordinary feat for
mmy an Anglican choir. And we ought not to be ashamed
to take courage from what is done outside. But why defend
something which is in no need of defence? It is a fact that
boys have been and are daily being trained to sing difficult
music with facility and grace. This is enough.

Sometimes pastors urge the difficulty of forming such choirs
as a sufficient reason for not making an attempt. This diffi-
culty, in the majority of cases, is purely imaginary, for the
average city church has a Sunday-school and some sodality
for the men. Here are the means both to organize the choir
and to keep it replenished with fresh voices ; the Sunday-
school will furnish the boys, and the sodality the men. Pas-
tors make a mistake in thinking large choirs necessary. There
are but fe^r churches in America where a choir of thirty boys
and fifteen men would not be ample. In the great Anglican
Cathedral of St. Paul, in London, the choir numbers only
fifty four voices — thirty-six boys and eighteen men ; and yet
the seating capacity is more than six thousand !

But a more serious question is that of the choir-master.
■"Where shall we get," the pastors ask, "an instructor who has
the necessary qualifications ? " This is a matter which lies
almost entirely in the hands of those in authority. When
pastors insist on having the strict ecclesiastical music sung by
<hancel choirs, then musicians will have to qualify themselves.
Jt is true that at present there are not many organists who
are familiar with the chant, but the demand will create the
supply. If Catholic musicians realized that their success and
livelihood depended upon a thorough knowledge of the chant
and the principles of chancel-choir training, they would not
<ielay long considering the matter. Let .our priests once take
a firm stand in favor of the Gregorian, and there will be no
<learlh of competent organists and choir-masters.

Clearly^ the objections which are urged against the chancel
choir are not of a serious character. Prejudice in favor of the
existing scheme naturally blinds many to the advantages of a
choir the introduction of which into our churches means such
a complete change. But that the chancel choir is the ideal
vehicle of ecclesiastical music there can be no doubt. And it
is not an air-drawn ideal; it has been practically tested even
in our own country.

Since 1871 there has been a distinctive choir singing di%-

456 Church music. [Jan.,

tinctive music at the Church of St. Paul the Apostle, New
York City. For thirty-two years this choir has sung with un-
disputed success the Gregorian Chant, both for the Proper and
Ordinary of the Mass. It was organized by Rev. Alfred
Young, C.S.P., with the official approbation of Archbishop
McCloskey. At present the choir consists of fifty- one boys
and twenty- seven men, who are trained to sing the entire
Gregorian service of every Sunday and holyday.

At the Church of the Assumption, Morristown, N. J., th«re
is a very good sanctuary choir. It was formed in 1892 by the
Very Rev. Dean Flynn, and sings the chant very acceptably.
The Proper of the Mass is sung in chant, and the common is
selected from the works of such eminent ecclesiastical composers
as Gounod, Silas, etc.

The archdiocese of Boston possesses some very promising
boy-choirs. The choir at the Cathedral, under the direction of
Mile, de la Motte, has achieved many musical triumphs. The
scope of its work is rather limited, however, for it sings only
the Proper of the Mass and the Responses. The choir is best
known, perhaps, for its magnificent rendering of* the sublime
offices of Holy Week.

The St. James' chancel choir was organized about fourteen
years ago by Rev. William P. McQuaid, with Miss Mary Roche
as instructress ; it is made up usually of twenty- four boys and
eighteen men. It is an auxiliary choir, and sings only the
Proper of the Mass and the Antiphons and alternate verses of
the Psalms at Vespers.

St. Vincent's Church, South Boston, boasts of an excellent
choir. Unlike the choirs of the Cathedral and St. James' Church,
this chorus of boys and men sings to the accompaniment of the
organ. It was organized by Father O'Donnell, in 1880, and its
success is due in great measure to his untiring zeal. The choir
numbers seventy- five voices, and under the direction of the pas-
tor. Rev. George Patterson, and the prefect of music, Rev. John
H. Lyons, it has made remarkable progress.

A large choir of boys and men was organized at the Mis-
sion Church, Roxbury, last fall. The choir-master, Mr. Francis
O'Brien, formerly of the Gesu, Philadelphia, holds daily rehear-
sals, and the choir is fast becoming a model. The purity of
tone of the soprano boys is quite remarkable. The choir can
sing the entire service either in Gregorian or in modern music.

458 Church Music. [Jan.,

Under the auspices of the well-known rector of the church.
Rev. John Frawley, C.SS.R., its success is assured.

For many years there has been a chancel choir at the
Cathedral in Albany, N. Y. It was founded in 1853 by Father
Wadhams, afterwards Bishop of Ogdensburg. The choristers
together with the altar boys form one society, known as the
Cathedral Sanctuary Society. The choir was heard at its best,
perhaps, at the consecration of the cathedral last fall.

At St Patrick's Church, Albany, there is also a promising
choir. Mr. Maher, the organist and director, has been very
successful with his boys and men. As at the cathedral, the
chancel choir sings only a part of the service. It is a pity
that the scope of the work of such choirs is not wider.

In almost every diocese there are some boy-choirs, which
sing parts of the services. In addition to those already men-
tioned we might add the choirs of the Buffalo, Rochester, and
the New York Cathedrals. At Trinity Church, Georgetown, D.
C , a boy-choir has been recently organized, which is to render
the entire service. This choir is trained by Mr. George H.
Wells, who is a great enthusiast for the restoration of the chant.

In drawing this article to a close, the writer wishes to call
the attention of the reader once more to the spiritual end
which church music should achieve, and to point out ^ain that
in order to reach the standard set by the church we must have
distinctive music sung by distinctive choirs. There has been
some enthusiasm for reform shown, but it is insignificant when
compared with the almost universally prevailing indifference.

A word to those who are working for the amelioration of con-
ditions in this country : let your watchword be " vigor." Enthu-
siasm in a right cause is bound to effect some good, and energy
expended in endeavoring to restore to the church of the twen-
tieth century the sublime melodies of the chuich of the middle
ages, will be energy spent in a work most acceptable to God and
sure to merit his blessing. With the young maestro of the papal
choir, let us rejoice that " the cause of sacred music possesses such
an enthusiastic patron as His Holiness." The Abb^ Perosi de-
clares that next year " a far-reaching movement for the study and
execution of plain chant will be inaugurated under the auspices
of Pius X." Truly a happy preparation for the centenary of
Gregory the Great, which is to be celebrated in 1904 I

^04.]

FRA GlOVANNrS STORY.

459

I
I

FRA GIOVANNI'S STORY.

BV THOMAS B. REILLY,

|0U like the portrait, signore ? The face is good
to look upon ; there are few such in these mod-
ern gray days. The artist? One of your coun-
trymen. You smile, but it is true. Six feet of
splendid American manhood ; a heart — cosl — a
poet, a dreamer, a lover of honor. It is the blessed truth.
See ! here is the name — che ! you know him ; you know Haw-
kins ! Pardon such feeling, your excellency. He spoke of
me ; he remembered Giovanni ; now, may Our Lady save him !
It seems years ago since he left us. He married, of course ?
No 1 E perchc ? Ah, she broke her promise ; * too bad, too
bad! But he still paints a picture or two? In business!
making money ! il cielo ! And this is the end of his dreams^
of his art ? Ah ! I see, he would not remember, Cki sa ;
perhaps it is best so.

You are a wonderful people, signore; too practical? Even
so. I have often said to myself, they will tire of it all; some
day they will sit in the shade for rest, and Beauty, touching
them with her wing, shall stir in their hearts another truth.
And they will become a nation of artists. I sometimes laugh
at my thought, your excellency ; but / expect to see the day.
Your own countryman, was he not one who, earlier than the
rest, found need of something beyond the stress of trade and
the excitement of profit ? We see you more clearly abroad
than you see yourselves at home. Gold is not all, your excel-
lency. You must seek something that touches the heart more
nearly. No, no, money is not bad ; it is a power for good.
Has it not brought you to these shores ; opened the treasures
of ages, and your tired eyes ! You have looked on Beauty.
You will not be quiet till you have tried your own hand. And
you will touch great heights. Is not this picture proof of it?
Was not its maker of your own soil !

Ebbette, we were close friends in those years. One day
Hawkins would paint a Madonna — capisci ? A Madonna! — the
height and depth of every feeling. I smiled. What could he

VOt. LXXVllI. — 30

46o

Fra GiovANNrs Story.

[Jan.,

bring to such a work ? W^hat did such a subject mean to
him ? I could see only failure. Ah ! your excellency has
browsed in the field? Then you know why I smiled. Art is
not builded on such narrow wants. I reasoned with him. He
persisted. Was it not to be a masterpiece ? It was not for
me to discourage him ; no — davvcro. So I played upon his
soul with all the subtleness I could use, trying to flood it with
feelings and convictions worthy such a subject. He was im-
p.-itient. He would begin the task at once ; but the model —
was there a face, in all Rome, equal to the inspiration ? And
I remembered a quiet home near the Piazza Navona : a fra-
grant garden; a cortile where pigeons floated downward at
the call of a voice, and where wonderful eyes looked over a
fountain's rim, nor saw the marvellous beauty of a face among
the waters. And I said to myself, Here is something worthy
his brush. And it was so.

For many days I sat in the shadow of the north wall
watching the canvas grow into a thing of living beauty. Now
and then we would call a truce to labor. Yes ; we. Why
not ? for my heart was in every stroke, in every light and
shadow. In such pause we would listen, not to the drowsy
waters but to a living voice — ^her voice, your excellency — that
sometimes creeps upon me in the black night. In those
moments, our friend would sit with closed eyes. It was — how
is it said ? — si^ si, a spell. And when the song was ended,
and bubbling laughter burst from her lips, he seemed to wake
from a dream. I know the reason now. He would shake his
head' — so — and begin to work with a sort of madness. It
seemed to free some pain clutching at his heart.

The last sitting had come. That day he lingered till the
dusk was upon the roofs, and the great stars hung white above
the walls. We were finishing our luncheon, when a voice — her
voice— rose full of ancient sweetness on the quiet air. She
was at a window above us. When the last note had run to
starlight and silence, we stood and called a bravo. A rain of
laughter spilled about us, and a rose sped downward at our
friend's feet, and she was gone. He stooped for the flower,
paused a moment — then giving it to me, said. " Eccola / you
will best wear it ! " And so we passed into the street. On
the piazza I said: "You are satisfied?" "Yes, and no."

1904.]

FJiA Giovanni's Stohy.

461

" Was not her beauty sufficient ? "

"Yes, yes," he said quickly; "such beauty will wear for
/er; goodness is behind, within, and around it. Once I did
not think so. It is one of those truths that come home late
-to the heart ; and the return is sometimes bitter."

We walked on in silence. Si, si, your excellency, it was a
trick of memory; it hung about him — this sadness — till he
sailed for home. He went suddenly, with scarce a word of
parting; and without his "masterpiece." T/iat was his gift to
Maria. From her it passed into the possession of the good
fathers of the chapel. He has made it full of life, eh ? Look
at it from this angle — so — see how the spirit comes and goes.
Too sorrowful 1 Eh, but the eyes, your excellency, the depth !
the light!

Should have a story I your excellency. It has. Maria
slipped into womanhood ; how or when, who shall say ? She
woke one dawn, and it was shining upon her like a holy
presence. And just as suddenly, from a whole citiful, two
men became her suitors — each in his own way ; Carlo and
Giuseppe.

The woman ? You shall hear. Once she said to me : " You
like Carlo, fion e vcro ? " And, laughing, I replied : " I have
made him my friend ; is not that enough ? " " But," she per-
sisted, "is not Giuseppe, also, your friend?" "He has chosen
me as such," I answered. She turned away in silence. It
looked very clear, did it not, your excellency ? She would
have me cast the balance. But I held my peace. You have
known such natures, signore ; and what tortures indecision lays
upon them. I pitied her ; and then my tongue said sharp
things for the sake of her peace ; told her to send one or the
other upon his way ; to be just to herself and them. Afa c/ie /
it was always a sigh, and then another sigh. Is the heart so
very easy to read, your excellency ?

A lottery, you say ; I would not call it that. Marriage
with us is a holy state. God's finger is upon the tie, and His
word upon the troth. In it lie peace, affection, trust . . .
not always? C/ti sa ; there may come moments when . . .
ah ! pardon me, amicone, I did not mean to stir such waters.
You would live it down? That is most difficult, till you pass
the frontiers of human agency. You have come to my coun-
try for rest, for forgetfulness ; take my word, leave your sor-

462

FRA Giovanni's Story.

[Jan..

rows under His will this night ; you will find them blooms of
beauty in the dawn.

J3^, this is our city house. Your excellency will come within
to sit awhile in the cool twilight to hear the story ? Bene,
There is none here except Papino.

Giuseppe pleaded on his knees like a child ; but the woman
would not listen. That was a sour drink, was it not, your
excellency, for one proud as fire, 1 often met him after that,
beyond the gates, brooding his way in silence. No, no, I
think it was Carlo tortured him most. Carlo was making a
iplendid name for himself on the Corso. Rumor had it that
Mitrin favored his suit. I knew better. She had already
refuHcd him, as she had Giuseppe. It seemed a very weak
ilcciiiion, your excellency, did it not ? Behold the result. One
day the two rejected suitors met in the shadows. The feeling
of months rushed from Giuseppe's lips in the single word
" Traditore / " There was a quick descending flash through
the dusk — a groan — hurried footfalls. In a moment a red
pool gathered and spread beneath Carlo's shoulder. Die? Oh!
no ; but his arm was never of much use thereafter. Now, said
I, now the woman may choose in peace. But she sighed on
hearing the tale, and was silent. Strange, was it not ?

" Giovanni," said the mother to me one day, — '* Giovanni
mio, what has come upon her ? I have risen before the stars
were pale, and seen her in tears at the feet of Our Lady's
statue. And she would give me no word but this: 'You
would not understand, inadre mia ; some day it shall all come
clear; but I am happy — oh! yes, very happy.' Tell me,
Giovanni, is it her soul!" And I, your excellency, placing a
hand over my heart, said : " It is all here, little mother, all
here I " She looked at me — so — with fear in her eyes. Then,
coming closer, whispered : " God forbid that, my son ; there
is no death so bitter ! " And she left me, saying again and
again, " // cuore ; il cuore." She, too, your excellency, has
had a romance in her youth, and one tragic hour in her life.

Ebbene ! time slipped by. Giuseppe's flight had passed from
common talk. Carlo was still in the city. Summer was with
us. You know where the church of San Lorenzo stands, and
the holy field beside it where the dead lie mute in their deep
content ? No strife nor bitterness there, your excellency ; noth-
ing but the great stillness of everlasting peace. The feast of

I904-]

Fra Giovanni's Story.

4^3

I
I

All Souls was nearing its end. Here and there, on the houses
of the dead, thin lights twinkled above the sleepers' hearts.
Sitting alone in the shadow, your excellency, I was thinking
of the countless throngs that had passed through the last great
Pain ; and how none had ever turned backward with a hint of
what lay beyond. Are they so happy there, or is it a penalty
on us without the gates? Just then I saw a human form creep-
ing among the graves. At each new mound he paused long
enough to read the inscription. Finally he dropped on his
knees before a heap of earth, and his hands sunk in the fresh
clay. I stepped from the shadows. At sight of me, he
shrieked and grovelled in the dust at my feet. Chi/ Giuseppe;
€ vero. And Death looked out of his eyes. He crouched for
a moment, and scanned me — 'SO — with superstitious fear. Then
he rose and said: "^ voi, Giovanni, Padre Giovanni!" He
shook like a vine in the wind. I touched him on the arm and
said: "Giuseppe! what brings you here?" "Tell me," he
cried, "where is it; where lies Carlo? I have seen him in my
dreams; and the blood was a veil on his face. Tell me;
quick, that I may sign myself with the earth that hides him.
You will not! even you — Giovanni^ — O Dio ! . . . ." He
fell in a faint at my feet. Do with him ? Miserieordia f they
brought him to the public hospital, where death and human
skill disputed the wreckage of his body. But his soul, ah t we
saved that, your excellency. It was Maria's work. She soft-
ened his heart at the end. He died repentant, the crucifix on
his lips, Carlo and the woman in tears beside him. She was
never the same after that, your excellency. Death sometimes
stirs strange things in the heart. Loved him too iate ?
Aspetta, you have not heard the end.

On the feast of Little Christmas, a great day with us, your
excellency, I was coming from the mountains. It was evening
when I reached home. The streets were filled with people.
The sound of their merrymaking followed me into my room.
I was thinking: suppose this joy were suddenly changed to
grief, how many of those singing under my windows would
carry a light heart to the end ? It is a great task so to bear
life that you spill none of its bitterness. An hour later I was
out in the night going toward the Piazza Navona. They were
waiting me with candles. And as I went up the stairs a
woman's voice called softly ; "^ voi, padre ?" And I answered :

464

Fra GtovannVs story.

[Jan.,

\
\

"Yes, it is I." " Pian, piaru),'* said the voice. And I went
softly into the room where the woman lay fluttering on the
borderland of death. Si, Maria. The marsh fever was in her
blood. She did not know us till dawn had whitened the foun-
tain's rim. She looked me full in the eyes a moment. Her
voice startled me with its strength, when she said : " Padre
^0, it is almost ended, non e vera ?" And she smiled ;
smiledj your excellency, in the shadow of death. '* It is true,"
said I, "and you are reconciled." "Si, si — so long that time
has seemed eternity. You will pray for my soul. I am near
to peace, e vero. I am ready for the Journey ? Good !
Listen ; should he come again, you will tell him that I watch
above the white stars on his coming. He never looked over
the rim of my thoughts, never caught sight of blooms that
opened like secret prayers. If my spirit-hands sought his ; if
I sent my soul in long flights after his, was I wrong? Who
can hush back the echoes of a song, the music of a thought
that is song within song ? When he was gone to that far
land, I called a last addioy and my heart was closed for ever. ■
Shall I be forgiven, think you? Giuseppe! see the picture

. . the Madonna . . Carlo; blood on his sleeve ;

. . there, the rose is at his feet . . . will he know . . .
will he . . . ."

She rose on her knees, your excellency, like a flame in the
gloom, and we heard her death-call rise clear against the day-
break — " Pace^ pace, pace!"

And Hawkins ; you say he never married. I sometimes
think he should have made his home among us. Well, we are
none of us great artists with life; some color or line shall be
missed; the quality never as we desire. Si, forbearance, your
excellency ; and after that — charity. You are going ? This
way, anticotie. I will go with you to the gate. See ! this is
our fountain. Eccola ! a million mirrored stars are drifting from
rim to rim, each in its punctual line. Can you fathom His
ways? Ebbene, you are more resigned. Good! Be careful of
the steps — so. The night is beautiful. A rivederci ; addio !

X904.]

I-

MYSTERY IN Revealed Religion.

465

I
I

THE NECESSITY OP MYSTERY IN REVEALED RELIGION.

BY REV. GEORGE M. SEARLE. C.S.P.

)ANY people find great difficulty in accepting the
dogmas of religion, because some of these dog-
mas are mysterious or incomprehensible. This
difficulty, evidently, is found conspicuously in
the teaching of the Church with regard to the
Holy Trinity and the Real Presence of Christ in the Blessed
Sacrament. These doctrines may seem either to contain some-
thing contradictory or impossible, or to be a mere meaningless
form of words. Unitarians claim that the first of them is a
statement of a mathematical absurdity, namely, that the num>
bers three and one are identical ; that if it does not mean
this, it means nothing at ali. And with regard to the second,
it certainly seems to them and to many others that the pres-
ence of the same substance in even two places at the same
time is simply impossible.

But our rationalist objectors go further than this. They
cannot or will not accept anything which seems contrary to
their ideas of wisdom, justice, or goodness. The dogma of
eternal punishment, of everlasting suffering as a consequence
of unrepented sin, or as a retribution for it, is a common
instance. They say that Almighty God must act on the same
principles that a good or wise man would act on ; for really
God does not seem to them to differ much from a good or
wise man except in the ability to attend to more things at the
same time. Now, no good man, no philanthropist, would let
any one suffer for ever, if he could help it; therefore, of
course, it is quite impossible, according to them, that God can
allow such a thing. Here then, and in other matters also, the
objection is not that the dogma taught by the church is abso-
lutely incomprehensible^ but that it does not agree with our
notions of what is right. If we say that hell exists, the state-
ment is as comprehensible to the intellect as the same state-
ment as to Asia or Africa ; the ditliculty simply is that they
think it ought not to exist, if God is good.

466 THE Necessity of Mystery [Jan.,

There seems, then, to be a difference between these diffi-
culties, though both come from a failure to conform the intel-
lect to the dogma. In the cases of the Holy Trinity and the
Real Presence the trouble seems to be in the proposition itself,
which strikes us as being paradoxical or incomprehensible; as
having, indeed, no intelligible meaning. In the others, like
that just treated of, we understand the proposition well enough,
but it appears to be inconsistent, not with itself, but with
others which are taken for granted as true. It is taken for
granted that it would be better that the wicked should be
annihilated than that they should suffer eternally; better still
that God should deprive them of free will and by his omnipo-
tence force them to repentance and amendment. Or it seems
plain that eternal suffering is 'an unjust penalty for acts which
are finite, as far as the agent is concerned.

Bat the difference between the difficulties is seeming rather
than real. For if we seriously endeavor to understand the
matter rightly in the two great dogmas first mentioned, or in
others which may appear to present the same difficulty, we
shall find that there is nothing in them self-contradictory, or
impossible, or unmeaning. If indeed the church taught, in the
matter of the Trinity, that three and one were identical, the
proposition would be senseless, being contrary to the plain
definition of the terms; but she does not so teach.

The actual dogma is that there are three Persons, with an
absolute unity of nature. The difficulty with the objector is,
that he forms an idea of the terms " person " and " nature "
which really confounds the two. His ideas of these matters
are not clear. If you tell him that space exists in three
dimensions, length, breadth, and thickness, he has no diffi-
culty ; for his ideas on these subjects are, or at any rate
seem to him, clear.

The difficulty as to the Real Presence arises from a similar
cause. The objector takes for granted that the presence of a
physical substance anywhere is entirely a matter of geometry.
He regards it as necessarily extended, and having a definite
shape. He may perhaps never have thought of the presence
of the soul in the body, which his own consciousness must
make at any rate extremely probable to him. The same con-
sciousness tells him that his soul is individual or indivisible,
and yet that it exists' in every part of his body. If he does

I904.]

IN Revealed Religion.

467

think of these things, he may, in order to keep up the con-
viction that he knows all about these matters, maintain that
there the difference between spiritual and material substance
makes bilocation possible for one but impossible for the other ;
or he may simply deny the existence of spiritual substance.
But the real fact is that he does not understand the meaning
of the term "substance." In speaking of material substances,
he confounds the attribute or "accident" of extension and
shape with the substance itself.

The difficulty, then, with these matters, is after all the same
as that found in that of eternal retribution and others of a
similar kind. It is true that in some cases the best understand-
ing we can have of the terms of the dogma is not so clear as
it is in others ; but the real trouble in all cases is that we
think that we ought to understand the whole subject clearly,
and do not realize that the apparent contradiction or impossibility
comes from our imperfect understanding of what is contained,
either in the dogma itself or in other matters connected with it.

Yes, this is the trouble; our minds are not content with
obscurity, but insist on understanding all about every subject
presented to them, or at any rate that no subject shall present
insuperable difficulties. Individually, we may acknowledge that
some matters are beyond our own understanding, as no doubt
is the case for most people with regard to the higher mathema-
tics; but we feel sure that some minds understand them clearly,
and that perhaps we ourselves could, if we would be willing to
go through the necessary study.

And yet even here, if we would make that study, we would
find that there are limits which it would appear that no human
mind will ever pass in this world. We see, for instance, that
space of more than three dimensions is what may be called an
algebraical possibility ; we can deduce formulas and conclusions
with regard to it very similar to those which we obtain with
regard to the space with which we are familiar. But when we
try to realize what it would be like, to imagine it, we fail
entirely. We see then that the apparent completeness of our
notion of actual space is a matter of experience; that it comes
from our physical senses, and that if we had been absolutely
deprived from the beginning of every one of those senses, or
even of those of sight and touch, our notion of three-dimen-
sional space would probably be no better than that of the four-

468

The Necessity of Mystery

[Jan.,

dimensional. We cannot be sure that the latter is an actual
impossibility ; but it certainly seems that if we lived in it we
should have to get by experience entirely new sensations to
obtain a knowledge of it like that which we have of the space
with which we are familiar, and that at present such a knowl-
edge is hopeless.

Even in matters of pure intellect, we become conscious of
limitations which seem insuperable. To take again an example
from mathematics, this time from what is quite ordinary, we feel
convinced that a minus quantity is in itself an impossibility ;
and yet we are working all the time with such quantities, and
obtaining perfectly intelligible and absolutely true results. We
even deal with so-called quantities which multiplied by them-
selves will produce a minus quantity, which is still more unin-
telligible; and the results are equally satisfactory. We arc
able, it is true, in this case, to represent both these kinds of
quantities geometrically ; but how can we be sure that there
is not some other way to represent them, of which we have no
idea, and no probability of one ?

It seems, then, nothing but common sense and ordinary
prudence for us to suspect, to say the least, that there are
regions of thought from which in our present state, at any
rate, We are utterly excluded. But even if we are unwilling to
admit this in the sense which has been explained, we must
certainly recognize that there are others in which the reason-
ing becomes too complicated for the human mind to follow.
To take the case, simple compared with many which might be
supposed, of three equal bodies governed in their movements
by their mutual gravitation; no mathematician will pretend
that a thorough discussion of this case is practicable for us;
but no one would deny that some intellect might be profound
enough for it. And every one who believes in God would be
sure that for him it would be a trifle.

For one, then, who believes in God, it would seem very
probable that in the matter of a revelation from him to us,
truths would be communicated which it would be impossible
for us to fully understand. Truths, that is, belonging to the
regions of thought from which we are now absolutely barred.
It is indeed perfectly evident that there must be such truths in
the storehouse of his knowledge ; and reasons for his action
equally beyond our reach. The only question would be, why

I
I

r904.

IN KE VEA LEDRELIGTON.

l~ie should puzzle us by informing us in any way about these
fchings. To take again an instance from the science already
several times referred to> grown people do not puzzle children
'%writh mathematical formulas ; if they themselves are fond of
•them, they wait till the children are old enough for their com-
jDrehension.

Well, it is quite true that we do not do just this thing, for

■there would be no conceivable reason for it, But there are

many things, which children do not understand, but wish to;

■which we understand, but cannot explain to them. They are

continually asking " Why ? " and " How? " and we can give no

explanation that they would understand. Fortunately they do

not press their questions, but pass to something else. But

Viowever much they might insist, or however little we could

explain, we should still have to instruct them in what they

ought to know.

Is it not, then, equally probable, to say the least, that God
should instruct us, his children, in some matters unintelligible
to us ? For it is important that we should know them. For
instance, how important it is to know that our Lord is really
present, not only in his Divinity but in his humanity, on every
one of our altars! The knowledge of this implies something
incomprehensible ; that is, that he should be at the same time
present in this way on all the altars of the world. Or again :
how necessary it is for us to know that we can save our souls
if we will ; and our will is free ; and yet, from the very nature
of God we see that he must know whether we shall actually
save them or not. The two together are incomprehensible to
us. The simple, easily understood doctrine, would be that God
predetermines the salvation or damnation of each one of us,
without regard to our own actions, and that we have no chance
to work out our own salvation. But if we really believed this,
we would not try to save our souls, or to practise virtue.
Here, therefore, an incomprehensible mystery must be revealed
to us, and we must believe it, or fall into despair or indiflfer-
ence.

It is then necessary that there should be mysteries in reli-
gion. Some things we must know in order to save our souls
and attain the destiny for which God has made us, which seem
to our limited reason incomprehensible, or inconsistent with
other things which we do know. And there are many things

470 THE NECESSITY OF MYSTERY [Jan.,

which, though not absolutely necessary, it helps us to know,
without understanding them.

The amount of the matter, then, would naturally be, and
actually is, that God reveals to us what in his infinite wisdom
he knows will be profitable for our salvation. It is, of
course, probable that in some matters he may also intend
simply to give us the merit of faith, which is the ground of all
supernatural virtue, and most pleasing to him. But still we
may say that this cannot be the whole reason for his mysteries ;
that one great reason for his not explaining himself is that he
cannot completely do so. He would say to us : " My dear
children, I would gladly let you understand me, my thoughts,
and my actions, if I could; but no matter how clearly I
might explain, you would not understand; it would be incom-
parably easier for a baby to understand a full-grown man.
You cannot understand why I permit sin when I could prevent
it; that is one matter which you are perpetually wearying
and worrying your poor brains about You can think out some
kind of a reason, but it does not satisfy you. I know, of
course, the full reason ; but it would not seem to you a reason,
no matter how fully I might tell it to you. It would only
add still more mystery. My ways are not as your ways, nor
my thoughts as your thoughts. Your language cannot express
my ideas ; your minds cannot fathom them. I could, of course,
increase your intelligence, so that you would understand these
things better. Some day, if you remain faithful, I shall, in
the light of heaven. Why I do not now, is again another mys-
tery, for which I have my reasons, which you could not under-
stand, even should I give them to you. And even in heaven
you will not know these things as perfectly as I do."

But why is this? Would it not be well for us to
have at some time this knowledge in perfection ; and if so,
why should not God give it to us ? Simply again because
he cannot. This may sound like a denial of his omnipotence,
but it is not, in any proper sense. The difference between the
Creator and the creature is not temporary, but eternal ; not
accidental, but essential. In other words, God cannot do what
is contrary to his own essence and his own perfection. To
make us understand as he does would be to make us equal to
himself. But this cannot be ; God is one, there can be no
other. God, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, is from eternity ;

^<'4.]

IN Revealed Religion.

47 »

Uncreated, and impossible to be created. The Creator cannot
"'^ake a creature who can know him as he knows himself.

Faith in the incomprehensible is, then, in a general way>
_^.n eternal necessity for us. The finite creature must always
lave something beyond its reach ; something for which even
"the light it can receive from God will not be sufficient. But
that will not be a cause for discontent; for in that light it
will recognize most clearly its own necessary limits. The cause
of our discontent here, in this matter, is that we do not so
clearly recognize them. It is very important that we should.

Also it seems quite plain that the existence of the mys-
terious or incomprehensible in what claims to be a revelation,
instead of being an argument against it, should be one in its
favor. If there were nothing in it hard to be understood, it
would seem to come from a source no higher than ourselves.
We see this, and act on it, in matters between man and man.
If we take up a simple text book on science, we say, "This is
very clear, but the very fact that it is so, makes me think that its
author was not so very much more learned than myself. If it
-were hard to understand, I should conclude that its author was
-much above me ; that my difficulties were not felt by him.
1 should say, He is a genius; I have no head to follow his
reasonings." And if this is the case for us in the mysteries
of human wisdom, how much more should it be so in those of
the wisdom of God !

THE STORY OF A FAMOUS EQUESTRIAN STATUE.

'UE statue of Henri IV. on the Pont Neuf is one
of the landmarks of Paris. Every stranger is
taken to see it, as he is taken to see the Louvre,
Notre Dame, and the Tomb of Napoleon.

Its history, or rather their history — -for the
present statue replaces an earlier and more beautiful monument
destroyed in the Revolution — is full of interest. To tell it in
detail would exceed the limit of these pages, but a few gen-
eral facts may be worthy of- attention.

It is sufficient to recal! that the prosperity which prevailed
in France at the time we are dealing with, 1604, was due to
Henri's firm government and sagacious measures. This pros-
perity, following on a period of more than forty years of inter-
nal struggle which, to quote the words of a historian of the
time, "had reduced the people to such a condition that they
no longer possessed anything but their tongues to complain
with," had made Henri the most popular monarch that has
ever ruled over France. Therefore, when a proposition was made

I904 J Story of a Famous Equestrian Statue. 473

to honor the king with a bronze equestrian statue, it met with
universal approbation. This idea was hailed with the greater
enthusiasm, perhaps, because there was no bronze equestrian
statue in France at that period, nor was there any worker in
bronze capable of producing one.

Italy, however, was much more advanced in this art. Veroc-
chio. at the time of his death, in 1488. had nearly completed
the splendid Colleoni in Venice, and there was still living in
Florence Giovanni di Bologna, who was undoubtedly the fore-
most sculptor in bronze of his day. A Fleming by birth, he
had long been attached to the court at Florence, and the
fame he had achieved by the production of his beautiful Foun-
tain of Neptune at BDlogna — vhence he derived his name- — was
augmented by such works as the statue of Mercury, one of the
glories of Florence, the bronze doors of the cathedral at Pisa,
the Fountain of Venus at Petraja, and others too numerous to
mention here.

Giovanni was terminating, at this time, an equestrian statue
of Ferdinand I., Grand Duke of Tuscany, nephew to Henri's
queen, Marie de' Medici ; there was, therelore, every reason
why he should be entrusted with the creation of the monument
to Henri IV.

He devoted his attention to it at once ; and with his
favorite pupil, Pietro Tacca, worked on it till his death in
1608. Tacca then continued it alone; but having much to do
for the Duke of Tuscany, he did not finish the horse until
i6[i, nor the complete monument till two years later.

Meanwhile, Henri had been assassinated in the streets of
Paris, 16 10, and the people were growing impatient to possess
in Paris the statue of " Henri-le-Bon," as they loved to call
him.

Marie de' Medici accordingly wrote to her cousin, Cosmo
II., then ruler of Tuscany, urging him to use the greatest
despatch in sending the statue to France, and recommending
that the utmost care be take of it.

Cosmo placed it in charge of a Cavaliere Pescholini, and of
a certain Antonio Guido, an engineer, and in April, 1613, they
set sail with their precious burden from Leghorn, bound for
Havre. When oflT the coast of Sardinia a great storm was
encountered, the ship wrecked, and the statue lost overboard,

Great was the commotion when the news of the shipwreck

474 Story of a famous equestrian Statue. [Jan.,1

reached Paris ; the people assembled at street corners, and
talked about it as they would have talked about a crushing
defeat. However, at the expense of great labor and time, the
statue was disembowelled from the sands and raised to anothe
vessel', on which it was finally brought in safety to Havre
more than a year after leaving Italy.

In August, 1614, amid great pomp and ceremony, Loui
XIIL inaugurated the monument to his father, and a little later,
in October of the same year, the queen regent addressed
letter to Pietro Tacca, in which she says : " I write to express
to you the pleasure the king, my son, and I have had in con
templating the beautiful bronze statue you have sent us. I
appears to us worthy of him it represents."

Criticism of the statue was, however, not wanting; somC;
held that the pedestal was too small for the horse ; others thai
the monument was badly turned, so that it could not be seen'
to advantage from the Place Dauphine. Sauval, in his Histor
of t/te Antiquiiies of Paris, after describing the martial attitude
of the king, the grace and vigor of the body, the majesty and
sweetness of e.xpression " which rendered the original so lov
able," speaks of the horse in the following terms: "The hors
is not so highly thought of as the figure; in truth, it is a ver
noble and well-conditioned Neapolitan courser; but perhaps
had he possessed rather less flank, belly, and bulkiness, th
legs of the king would not appear so short, and the anim
would have been better proportioned to the size of the princ
he carries."

Such, then, was the original statue. From 1614 to 179
Henri-le-Grand, from the top of the pedestal on the Pont Neu
looked on at the consolidation of the kingdom under Louis XIII
at the splendor of the reign of the Roi-Soleil; at the profligacy
that characterized the times of Louis le Bien-Aime; and at the
annihilation of the monarchy under the weak and unfortunate
Louis XVI.

Then came the Revolution. On August 14, 1792, the
Assemblee Nationale issued a decree of which the following is
an extract:

" The Assemblee Nationale, considering that the sacred
principles of Liberty and Equality do not admit of leaving
longer before the eyes of the French people monuments
erected to pride, to prejudice, and to tyranny ; considering that

W^ I. A STATAT. KC;Vf.i:THK DK HF.NR% r.l.t.KVsi;.-.\ R .HJN t'll. I)l..> lAlU Hi

Akcibnt Statue or Hbhri IV., bv Giovanni di Bologna, from ah old
Enckavinc in the Louvre.

the bronze of these monuments, converted into cannon, will
serve usefully for the defence of the country ; decrees as follows :
All statues, bas-reliefs, inscriptions, and other monuments in
bronze, or in any other material, erected in public squares,
churches, gardens, parks, and their dependencies, former
palaces, not excepting those which were reserved for the use
of the king, shall be removed at the convenience of the district
representative, who is charged with their temporary care."
VOL. LXXVII1. — 31

I
I

476 Story OF A Famous equestrian Status. [Jan.,

This decree is responsible for the destruction of a great
number of splendid bronzes which had adorned Paris, Lyons,
Dijon, Bordeaux, Beauvais, and other cities in France. In
Paris alone three other equestrian statues of great artistic value
were torn down and melted into cannon : that of Louis XIIL
on the Place Royale, now called Place des Vosges; one of
Louis XIV". in the Place Louis-le-Grand, where to-day the
Colonne Vendome is; and another of Louis XV. which occupied
the spot where the Obelisk de Luxor now is in the Place de la
Concorde.

Hardly more than twenty years had elapsed since this decree
was passed when, in April, 1814, the citizens of Paris issued a
proclamation formally renouncing all allegiance to Napoleon,
and expressed the ardent desire that the monarchy should be
re-established in the person of Louis XVIIL

The first Restoration was a fait accompli, and the solemn
entry of the king was fixed to take place on May 3.

An idea, which probably originated with Mgr. Beausset,
Bishop of Alais, rapidly spread throughout all classes in Paris
that nothing could please the king better than to find, on his
return from exile, the statue of his great ancestor in its accus-
Itomed place. The execution of such a project, however, pre- ■
sented almost insurmountable difficulties. A bronze statue of this
importance required years for its accomplishment, whereas only
a few weeks remained before the king's arrival. A bronze
Cetatue was manifestly impossible ; yet a statue of some kind
there must be. To an architect named Bellanger is attributed
the happy suggestion of making a provisional statue in plaster.
His project was at once approved, and a sculptor named
Roguier undertook to set up a plaster reproduction of Giovanni
di Bologna's monument in the time that intervened before the
king's entry.

To procure an engraving of it, and a good likeness of
Henri IV,, enabling him to begin work on the figure, was a
matter of no difficulty ; but to find a suitable horse to mould
was a different affair. The famous four-horse chariot that now
stands on the Brandenburger Thor in Berlin had been brought
to Paris by Napoleon as a trophy of war. It was now lying,
packed, in Paris, ready to be sent back to Berlin. Permission
was obtained from the King of Prussia to unpack and mould
one of the horses.

1904..] Story of a famous equestrian Statue. 47J

M, Roguier, assisted by Houdon, the great statuary of the
period, worked day and night on his hardy plan to such good
effect that on May 3 the scaffolding had been cleared a^A'ay
and the equestrian statue of Henri IV. reappeared, as if by
enchantment, to the astonished eye of the passer by. It was
so faithful a reproduction that niany> who remembered the
original, declared it was an illusion of the past.

The plaster statue was still standing ou the Pont Neuf
when Napoleon, escaped from Elba, was again at the gates o£
Paris, and Louis XVI I [. was once more an exile. It had pre-
viously been Napoleon's intention to erect an obelisk in the
place of the statue, and his minister, Carnot, now reminded
him of this ; but Napoleon was engrossed with matters of far
more import, at this time, than statues and obelisks, and he
wrote on the report " ajourner quant a present"; the plaster
cast, therefore, was allowed to remain undisturbed.

After the battle of Waterloo Louis XV.IIL returned, to
Paris; the Municipal Council had already decided, in 1814, to
replace the plaster statue by one in bronze. A committee was
appointed to take charge of the work, and its first duty was
the selection of an artist who, by reason of his talent, wo.uld
satisfy public interest.

Their choice fell on Lemot, well known for several monu-
mental compositions, amongst which the chariot and figures ol
Victory on the triumphal arch in the Place du Carrousel
The expenses were to be defrayed by a national subscription,
and it is significant of the universal satisfaction felt at the
return of the Bourbons that the subscriptions exceeded the
most sanguine anticipations. Functionaries, judicial bodies,
regiments, artistic and literary societies, private individuals in
all ranks of life, contributed to it in such numbers that the
newspapers were no longer able to publish the lists.

As the Revolution had pulled down the monuments of the
Monarchy, so now in turn did the Restoration treat some ai
the heroes of the Empire. The question of the quantity and
quality of the bronze necessary for the new statue was all
important. After analyzing samples of various monuments
erected under Napoleon, it was found that the statue of General
Desaix — which had been set up in place of the equestrian statue
of Louis XIV., in the Place des Victoires — gave the best results.
Accordingly Desaix was melted down for Henri IV.'s benefit

1904] Story of a famous Equestrian Statue. 479

In 1817 Lemot's monument was finished, and once more
the grand Henri was contemplating his good town of Paris
from his old position on the Pont Neuf, Louis XVIII. desired
that the inauguration should be made with great ceremony, and
the occasion be one of popular festivity and rejoicing.

The day fixed for unveiling the statue was August 25.
The night of the 24th all the theatres of the capital were
thrown open to the public. The city was brilliantly illuminated,
dancing and music in the public gardens and squares went on
till daylight.

The king, princes of the blood, high clergy, ministers,
foreign ambassadors, deputies, law courts, state councillors, and
an army of functionaries of all kinds, attended the formal inau-
guration, the next day, in great state. In the Champs Elysecs
and Place Dauphine substantial refreshments were served to
the public; twelve fountains ran with wine; games and shows
of every description were provided at various points, for the
amusement of the multitude, and a public holiday was observed,
as if a dauphin had been born.

To mark his satisfaction, the king had a medal struck, and
sent one to each subscriber to the monument. The medal
bore on one side the effigies in profile of Henry IV. and Louis
XVIII. J on the reverse, the inscription:

"A nos fideles sujets pour avoir spontanement et de leurs
deniers, retabli le monument de Notre Aieul, Henri IV."

il^

TIE above precept appropriately closes Mr. Mor-
ley's great biography of Gladstone. The three
large volumes are in the main a sustained, con-
vincing demonstration of how nobly the precept
received concrete expression in the career of
the greatest English statesman of the nineteenth and, perhaps,
of any other century. Mr. Morley had a great theme and a

* The Lift of William Ewari Gladitont. By John Mortey. In three volumes. The
kl.icntillan Company.

1904.]

MoRLEY's Life of Gladstone.

481

great opportunity. He has done justice to his subject and to
himself. This biography, by the unanimous consent of critics,
takes its place among the world's classics. A competent judge,
from both the literary and the political stand-point, Sir Wemyss
Reid, declares it to be the fullest, the most complete and most
authoritative record of the Gladstonian era that ever has been
given to us, or that ever will be given. The style is plain,
vigorous, and direct, without picturesque embellishments or
oratorical redundancy, but fragrant throughout with the aroma
of letters. The selection, arrangement, and co-ordination of
materials, the analyses of causes and consequences are carried
out with a skill born of a long apprenticeship in historical
composition and a practical statesman's knowledge of the pub-
lic life in which he himself has been an actor.

Though among the staunchest of Mr. Gladstone's friends
and followers, Mr. Morley, conscious that he was writing for
all time, and from his calm, philosophic cast of mind, has kept
his enthusiasm well in hand. The least friendly eye will fail
to detect the slightest spirit of partisanship in the work.
There is no acrimony displayed towards political opponents.
Even when relating the great apostasy, he contents himself
with an allusion to the son of Zeruiah (Sarua) who lifted his
hand against his king. Considering how closely he was, in the
later years, associated with Gladstone, and how conspicuously
he was honored with Gladstone's confidence, his self-restraint
in the matter of personal allusion is stoic. They would be
severe judges, indeed, who would deny him the single foot-
note, two lines in length, which is the only avoidable in-
stance of this sort throughout the three volumes. It is said
that the picture would have been more perfect if Mr. Morley
had given us a good deal more of the private and intimate
side of the life, more of the man as distinguished from the
statesman, more of Gladstone as he appeared on what he him-
self called "the breezy common of humanity." There are few
letters, except such as are connected with public affairs; not
much record of the " slighter incidents, fugitive moods, and
fleeting thoughts of life"; no anecdotes, none of the exchanges
that pass across the walnuts and the wine. One delightful
chapter of literary table-talk there is that eclipses anything in
Boswell, but it only whets the appetite.

On the other hand, however, it can be urged that three

482 MORLEY'S LIFE OF GLADSTONE. [Jan.,

large volumes, in which there is not a superfluous page, is a
very generous size for a biography ; to have filled in details as
suggested by the above criticism, would have swollen it to
excess. Besides, from his early manhood Gladstone's life was
passed almost entirely in the public eye. No man, Mr. Mor-
ley remarks, had fewer secrets. His leisure time, if we can
correctly speak of leisure time in that life of restless activity,
was generally employed in study and composition which found
its way into print. He was always too busy and too seriously
employed to have much time for social relaxation. The sim-
plicity of his domestic life is not insufficiently portrayed. That
an omission of public family morning prayers was an almost
solitary occurrence in a period of over fifty years of incessant
struggle and labor indicates that the domestic side of these
ordered years may be tersely epitomized. Besides, the public
aspect of that spacious career, sixty years long, through which
ran the currents of almost every contemporary political, social,
religious movement in England, as well as nearly every Conti-
nental crisis, was enough to fill Mr. Morley's large grasp and
to occupy his industrious energy. Some inkling of what that
industry has been may be gathered from his statement that, while
he was preparing his work, between two and three hundred
thousand written documents passed under his notice.

One ordinary difficulty of the biographers of statesmen, that
of determining where the line is to be drawn between biography
and history, Mr. Morley had to face only in an attenuated
form. For it is an index of Gladstone's stature that a history
of his life must be little less than a history of contemporane-
ous England. American readers will probably wish that the
author had not more than once assumed a sufficient general
acquaintance on the reader's part with the march of events in
the intervals between Gladstone's successive ministries to follow
the narrative.

In one important respect Mr. Morley has disappointed
prophecy. It was expected by many that an agnostic could
scarcely do justice to the intensity of Gladstone's religious
nature and its all-pervasive presence in his works. There is,
indeed, a total absence of dissertation on religious topics; and
nobody will regret the omission. Nor is much space devoted
to Gladstone's religious development. In this respect he was
fully formed in early manhood. From the religious convic-

1904.]

Af OR LEY'S LIFE OF GLADSTONE.

483

tions which he held on leaving Oxford he never swerved;
though his sense of practical expediency and a wider outlook
prompted him to modify in some cases his views of actual
problems. The religious element in Gladstone's character is
brought out in all its force. Every student of history and
every lover of democracy will rejoice that the story of the
great leader has been recorded in so worthy a manner. And
most persons will find their sense of fitness satisfied by the
dispensation which awarded the enduring honor of perpetuat-
ing that leader's memory, in a monument cBre peretinius, to the
follower who in the crowning strife of that stormy course stood
faithfully by his side when older friends deserted, and followers,
as deeply pledged, betrayed.

11.

In 1832 Gladstone entered Parliament as a Tory. But his
Toryism was rightly gauged by Cardinal Manning, who said it
was merely a boyish and Etonian admiration of Canning
and an intimacy with Lincoln and the like. He quitted Parlia-
ment in 1894. The intervening period had been years of great
changes in England and in the whole world. In most of
them the name of Gladstone is writ large. He was a member
of eleven governments. He was four times prime minister. He
was a colleague of seventy cabinet ministers ; among the
number, of Wellington and Peel, of Lyndhurst and Palmerston,
of Granville, Bright and Selborne, of the present Duke of
Devonshire, and, alas 1 of Mr. Joseph Chamberlain. He
argued the Irish question with O'Connell, and he buried
Parnell. His total tenure of the first ministership was shorter
than that of Walpole, and less brilliant in the glory of arms
than that of either Pitt. But, unlike Walpole, he owed nothing
to corruption and other base political arts. Neither the circum-
stances of his day nor his view of national welfare and honor
called upon him to urge warlike patriotism to action. In con-
trast with his sometime rival Disraeli, who thought of politics
as a contest for personal power, Gladstone coveted power only
as a necessary instrument of beneficence. And the history of
his use of the means is a story full of noble purpose and
splendid achievement. The English masses, Ireland, Montenegro,
peoples north of the Himalayas, are all his debtors for the
amelioration of their condition. If his policy had been supported,

MujiLEY's Life of Gladstone.

[Jan..

ICnyland would have been spared the disgraces of the Boer
war. His ideal of national honor was a pre-eminence in the
caum of progress. In the heat of strife his opponents often
tftunttd him with a readiness to barter the country's honor for
the interests of trade. But the prestige of England never stood
hi^her^ h«r eondition was never more flourishing, than when he
h < 4 d th* httloL To many minds, who Bnd no satisfaction in the
l^ttMfMCt* it looks as if the Gladstonian era shall prove to have
W«tt the marcht finale of England's glory. But yesterday the
Htot^ of KagUnd might have stood against the world. Now?
Now, Mr Chamberlain is hysterically warning her that her only

p «V9aue of escape from disaster imminent and irrevocable lies in
h«r consenting to pay threepence-halfj>enny for a threepenny
loaf. Doubtless to reason that Gladstone's disappearance from h
|hc «r«n« has contributed to the present state of affairs would V
h« * UlUcy of post hoc ergo propter hoc. Nevertheless the truth
rMkAins that since his death England's prosperity and prestige fl
h«vo been on the wane. ™

The Kource of Gladstone's power lay chiefly in three things :
hit commanding intellect, fidelity to ethical ideals, and a pro-
(««Uiul religious faith which acted as the mainspring of his
tivihltc no less than of his private conduct. To these assets
iuii;ht be added an extraordinary physical constitution, an emi-
Mvntly practical turn of mind, immense capacity for work, and
nil the qualifications of the orator, including a superb voice, h
curtly grace, and persuasive manner. Somebody characterized V
Ulndstone's maiden speech as the commercial shrewdness of
Lancashire with the culture of Oxford. To the " Lancashire
lumjierament " was due the talent for dealing with fiscal and ^
i^ViUtumic questions which first placed him in the foremost rank |
And won for him the reputation of being the ablest chancellor
of the exchequer which England ever had. Notwithstanding
hia practical abilities, he was not of the calm, phlegmatic
Anglo-Sa-\on type, but possessed the perfervidiim ingenium Scott
^for he was of Scotch descent, and inherited from his mother
a pure strain of Gaelic blood. He was impulsive and excitable ;
when he joined a movement, he threw himself into it with all

■ hi> force, and inevitably became the leader. It was part of his ■

simplicity that he was a poor judge of character — as he said,

he never understood men, and least of all politicians. But if

liO did not understand the individual, he had an almost unerring

19Q4

■faculty of gauging the nation's mind, both in the country and
in the House, so that he knew, as few of his predecessors or
oontemporaries knew, when to take occasion by the hand. Yet
he was no demagogue, unless in the sense that Patrick Henry
■and Jefferson were demagogues. Nothing could be more inac-
curate than Huxley's sneer, that he squandered the greatest
intellect in Europe in following majorities and the crowd. He
vras always a leader, not a follower ; in his cabinet he was the
•ruling spirit. He seized^ public opinion at the full to bear hira
■%vith resistless force against some injustice that stood in the
-viray of democracy.

The public opinion which bore him forward, he more than
once created. If any one episode of his life registers the colos-
sal stature of the man, with his hatred of injustice, his daunt-
less courage, his great mental and physical force, it would,
perhaps, be his championship of the oppressed Christians of the
Turkish empire in 1877. The Tory government of the day
held strongly to the traditional anti- Russian policy. Disraeli,
"the prime minister, was cynically incredulous towards the reports
of Turkish outrages. The country was indifferent. Gladstone
v«ras in retirement, felling trees at Hawarden. He was supposed
"to have given up public life. Then came the news of the
appalling Bulgarian outrages, and Achilles again took up his
armor. By a series of pamphlets he awakened and fanned into
.a fierce flame the sense of justice in the people, who gave vent
to their indignation in great meetings throughout the land.
Under very unfavorable circumstances, Gladstone brought for-
Avard in Parliament a resolution declaring that the Turk by his
inisgovernment had forfeited his claim to the insurgent provinces.
He made a speech which is historic. An eye-witness, who is
now prime .minister, has given his impression of the scene:
** There was one of those preliminary parliamentary debates —
or series of debates, which preceded the main business of the
evening. In this Mr. Gladstone had to speak, not once or
twice but several times, and it was not until hour after hour
had passed in this preliminary skirmish, in a House hostile,
impatient, and utterly wearied, that he got up to present his
case with the conviction that he was right, which was his
great strength as a speaker in and out of the House. I shall
never forget the impression that speech left on my mind. As
a mere feat of physical endurance (it lasted two and a half

486 MORLEY'S LIFE OF GLADSTONE. [Jan.,

hours) it was almost unsurpassed ; as a feat of parliamentary
courage, parliamentary skill, parliamentary endurance, and par-
liamentary eloquence, I believe it will always be unequalled."
The temptation to quote the noble peroration, in which Glad-
stone poured out his soul, is almost irresistible, but prudent
apprehension of our editor's severity forbids. Two or three
sentences must suffice: "Sir, there were other days when
England was the hope of freedom. Wherever in the world a
high aspiration was entertained, or a npble blow was struck, it
was to England that the eyes of the oppressed were always
turned — to this favorite, this darling home of so much privilege
and so much happiness .... You talk to me of the estab-
lished tradition and policy in regard to Turkey. I appeal to an
established tradition, older, wider, nobler far — a tradition not which
disregards British interests, but which teaches you to seek the
promotion of these interests in obeying the dictates of honor
and justice. . . . 5,ooo,ocx} of Bulgarians, cowed and beaten
down to the ground, hardly venturing to look upwards even to
their Father in heaven, have extended their hands to you ;
they have sent you their petition, they have prayed for your
help and protectidn. . . . The removal of that load of woe
and shame is a great and noble prize. It is a prize well worth
competing for. It is not yet too late to try and win it."
His diary for this day records that he had had in it about
100 meetings, 200 or 250 letters, besides work on a blue book ;
that he dined after his speech, which ended at 9: 30 p.m., and
that he was again in the House from 10:45 till 12:45. Yet
this was not one of his busiest days. The strength of party
was against him, and the resolution was defeated by a vote
of 354 tor ministers against 223 for Gladstone. But the end
was not yet.

After a short interval Gladstone started on what became
known as the Midlothian campaign. It was a political tour
beginning in Liverpool, embracing some of the great Northern
English towns and Edinburgh, with the adjoining districts.
Everywhere the great leader met with enthusiastic popular
receptions, such as O'Connell received in Ireland. Everywhere
he spoke, sometimes four or five times in one day, to immense
audiences. People trooped from the Western Hebrides to hear
the man who combined the gifts of Ulysses and Demosthenes.
In the Corn Exchange of Edinburgh, before the shrewd traders

1904.

of the city, he exposed the government finance. " For an hour
and a half," writes Mr. Morley, " he held to the figures of
surplus and deficit, of the yield of bushels to the acre, in good
seasons and bad, of the burden per head of new financial sys-
tems and old, with the rigor of an expert accountant. He
enveloped the whole with a playful irony, such as a good-
humored master uses to the work of clumsy apprentices, but
of the paraphernalia of rhetoric there was not a period, nor a
sentence, nor a phrase." At other times this "orator of con-
crete detail, of inductive instances, of energetic and immediate
object " touched with a master's hand the deeper chords of
elemental feeling; "bearing his hearers along through charms
of strenuous periods, calling up by the marvellous transformations
of his mien a strange succession oi images — as if he were now
a keen hunter, now some eager bird of prey, now a charioteer
of fiery steeds kept well in hand, and now and again the pity
or dark wrath of a prophet, with the mighty rushing wind and
the fire running along the ground." No wonder that, as his
biographer says, when the climax of the Midlothian campaign
came, the general election proved that Gladstone's tremendous
projectiles had pounded the ministerial citadel to the ground,
and that he had a nation at his back.

III.

The tap-root of Gladstone's character was his moral earn-
estness, which drew its vitality from his deep religious faith.
His private life was a course of Christian duty, as God gave
Inim to see it, beautifully done. Among the minor circum-
stances which contributed to make his life touch the imagina-
tion of the world, was the tender devotedness he showed to
her of whom he said : " It would not be possible to unfold in
words the gifts which the bounty of Providence has conferred
upon me through her"; who watched so affectionately over
him in his closing years, and who stood, " a solitary and
pathetic figure," at the head of the grave, when amid the
unanimous mourning of the three kingdoms, even of the
world, the last great Englishman was laid to rest in Westmin-
ster Abbey. Unaffected simplicity, kindness, courtesy, loyalty
to friends and colleagues, and all the minor charities rounded
out and adorned the sterner virtues which formed the frame-
work of his character. Sir William Harcourt, who could speak

foRLEY's Life cf)

[Jan.,

with authority on the matter, said: "Of all the chiefs he was
the least exacting, he was the most kind, the most tolerant,
the most placable. How seldom in the House was the voice
of personal anger heard from his lips!" In a letter to his
wife we get a close view of bis mind's perception and his
heart's acceptance of the Christian solution of life's enigma.
Citing from his favorite philosopher, Dante, the line

" In la sua voluntade e nostra pace,"

he expounds the fundamental truth of Christian asceticism*
After observing that these words, so few and simple, have such
a majesty of truth about them that they seemed to be almost
as if spoken by the very mouth of God, he declares that they
should come to us not as an admonition from without, but as
an instinct from within; and that the state which we are to
aim i^t through mortification of desire, and training of will.
Is that in which our will shall be one (the italics are his) wilh^_
the Will of God. There is no reason to believe that h^f
swerved from his own maxim. He practised, in a high degree,
the charity which thinketh no evil. When the odium thiologi'
xHm of the Tractarian movement was at its highest point,
ihouch he was far from sharing Tractarian opinions, and had
severely criticised William George Ward's book — Ideal of a
Cknittan Church — he refused to join in the official censure
patsed upon it, because he held that the censure not merely
condemned the opinions advocated in the book, but also
attributed personal dishonesty to the author; and this, he
«aid, " is a question not fit for adjudication by a human
iribunal." The convictions expressed in the following passage,
written when he was about thirty three, animated his conduct
to the end: "Nothing grows upon me so much with lengthcn-
Injj life as the sense of the difficulties, or rather the impossi-
bilities, with which we are beset whenever we are tempted to^
take \o ourselves the functions of the Eternal Judge (except
in reference to ourselves, where judgment is committed to us),
and to form any accurate idea of relative merit and demerit,
good and evil in actions. The shades of the rainbow arc not
8u nice, and the sands of the sea- shore are not such a multi-
tude, as are all the subtle shifting, blending forms of thought
und of circumstance that go to determine the character of us
and of our acts. Hut there is One that seeth plainly and

1904-]

MoRLEY's Life of Gladstoi^e.

489

judgeth righteously." When we are prompted to censure his
crusade against what was called Vaticanism, and his patronage
of the Italian revolution, it will do no harm to remember, that
if the Divine promise holds good, he has established a claim
to merciful judgment on the mistakes of his intellect. If his
perspective confused Bourbon tyranny in Naples and the
paternal government of the Papal States, it can be pleaded in
extenuation that his regrettable activity in this cause sprang
from the same source as the blessed zeal which overthrew
Protestant ascendency in Ireland and struck the yoke of feu-
dal thraldom from the necks of her Catholic peasantry.

He knew nothing of the convenient distinction between a
man's private and his public moral standards. He carried his
conscience into the statesman's cabinet, and discharged his pub?
lie functions with the same scrupulous fidelity to it as charac-
rerized his private life. More than once he imperilled his future
rather than sacrifice principle. And it is to the credit of those
whom he wrought for that his career illustrates the lines :

" Not once or twice in this rough island's story
The path of duty was the path of glory."

■ His known devotion to high moral ideals and his spotless

integrity, were for much in the creation of the universal respect
he enjoyed even from his political opponents. It is true that
he sometimes made sacrifices of interests that he was expected
to protect, and that he shifted his position more than once on
crucial issues. But Mr, Morley's account shows convincingly
that these fluctuations were but the adaptation of unchanged
principles to varying conditions j and his surrenders — as, for
example, in the Oxford Test Act, and the Bradlaugh affair — were
made because, to use his own words, a politician must some-
times give up things which otherwise will be wrenched from him.
H When fundamentals in morals or religion were in question he
was fixed. One must remember his affectionate reverence for
his Alma Maler to appreciate the stern resolve that spoke in
his words regarding the proposal to modify the University tests
so as to admit rationalists of the Colenso type : " I would
rather see Oxford level with the ground than its religion regu-
lated in the manner which would please Bishop Colenso,"
Consistency in principles, and the necessity of accepting com-

490

rOflLEY'S LIFE OF GLADSTONE.

fjan,,

promises in the business of life, sometimes lead to positions
wbtch. if superficially viewed, seem irreconcilable. Gladstone
was successively the hero and the aversion of nearly every
denomination in the kiogdom. At one time Mass on Catholic
altars and prayers in Baptist meeting-houses were simultaneously
offered up for him. Now he was denounced by Catholics as
the implacable eaemy of the church ; again, he was called a
papist, a Jesoit a di^uise ; and the present writer remembers
wfacn tbe Ulsttr Orangeman revised his shorter profession of
{utk so «& to ooasign Gladstone, along with the Pope, to eter-

The M^mKOe of rationalism and agnosticism never touched
iMimtMt £iith in the dogmatic bases of Christianity. " I
«a^ d ^^«i kaow," he wrote to a friend, and he might have
tn^ ifctfiani it till the day of his death, " one altogether
^Haiiini 10 dogma, which I believe to be the skeleton that
^Mtdil ^Im flesh, the blood, the life, of the blessed thing we
4^ lilt Otf^tiAi^ religion." In his diary is found the entry: "It
ijl ^nmy dMIicult to keep one's temper in dealing with M(atthew)
J^f^m wlien he touches on religious matters. His patronage
4^ % ClMisti*nity fashioned by himself is to me more offensive
Hdgi Hying than rank unbelief." His contributions to the defence
^ IIm Bible and Christianity against Huxley and other
i^lgHMi^^* o^ negation, had, perhaps, like his essays in classical
■UMogical criticism, no great intrinsic value. But it would be
fMjr to underestimate the moral support given to the cause by
1^ tpectacle of the greatest man in English public life doing
Y«lilint battle for ancient truth. His broad and active sympathy
<f(\\\\ all men was no pale humanttarianism but the glowing
Wiinnth of Christian charity. " Remember," he said in one of
hit Mreat speeches against the policy of warlike aggrandizement,
"that the sanctity of life in the hill villages of Afghanistan,
AUVong the winter snows, is as inviolable in the eyes of
Aliutghty God as can be your own. Remember that He who
h«« united you as human beings in the same flesh and blood
hM bcjund you by the law of mutual love; that that mutual
jov* it not limited by the shores of this island, is not limited
\\y the boundaries of Christian civilization ; that it passes over
ttm whole surface of the earth, and embraces the meanest along
tvith the greatest in its unmeasured scope."

1904]

MoRLEY's Life of Gladstone.

491

IV.

The* tone of the reviews of Mr. Morley's work which have
appeared in the leading English Catholic organ shows that the
old dislike of Gladstone dies hard. But English Toryism, of a
certain concentrated type, detested Gladstone ; and when the
Tory happened to be a Catholic, he treated himself to the
luxury of representing the foe of his political opinions as the
foe of religion also. Much is made of the charge that Glad-
stone ceased cordial relations with his old friends Manning and
Hope-Scott, as well as with Newman, after their conversion.
How far this assertion is true the reader of this work and of
Mr. Furcell's Life of Manning must judge for himself; he will
observe, too, that the relations between the two cardinals
themselves were, for a long period, the reverse of cordial.
Whether in Gladstone's gradual estrangement from Manning
there was any deliberation or not, certainly their paths seldom
crossed for many years. During the controversy that arose
out of the Vatican Council both Manning and Newman entered
the lists against him ; Manning wrote with that fierce indig-
nation which did not always discriminate between persons and
opinions. Newman, as usual, was calm, courteous, and concilia-
tory. His pamphlet came out just when Gladstone was retiring
from the leadership of the Liberal party, and, it was then sup-
posed, from public life.

Newman wrote to him, thanking him for a letter that was
" forbearing and generous." Then he continues : " It has
been a grief to me to write against one whose career I have
followed from first to last with so much {I may say) loyal
admiration. ..." What a fate it is that now, when so
memorable a career has reached its formal termination, I
should be the man, on the very day on which it closed, to
present to you, amid the many expressions of public sympa-
thy which it elicits, a controversial pamphlet as my oflering."
And he concludes: *' I do not think I ever can be sorry for
what I have done, but I never can cease to be sorry for the
necessity of doing it." Gladstone's last recorded words con-
cerning Newman are: "He was a wonderful man, a holy man,
a very refined man, and {to me) a most kindly man." Their
com non devotion to Irish Home Rule brought Gladstone and
Manning together in their closing years. " I forsook all things
VOL. Lxxvm, — ^32

493

MoRLEY's Life of Gladstone.

[Jan.,

for faith," wrote the cardinal ; • "he has forsaken his whole
political past for Ireland. He is as isolated now as I was
then, and this makes me turn to him." Elsewhere he wrote : f
" Fifty years of public service and unceasing labor for the
country claim what he receives — a public recognition of great
merit. His course has been to me intelligible from the first.
His whole career has been for the people, ever widening out."
These two old Oxford friends, like consort ships, after sailing
forth together, had been widely separated on the high seas of
life by contrary winds and opposing currents. But in mutual
gladness they sighted each other again as the lights of home
rose beckoning through the gloom.

Funereal panegyric, even from opponents, is notoriously
subject to deduction : —

"Sunt lachrymae rerum, mentemque mortalia tangunt " ;• —

nevertheless the world felt that the late Lord Salisbury in-
dulged in no rhetorical exaggeration when he said of Glad-
stone : "He will leave behind him, especially to those who
have followed with deep interest the history of the later years
— I might almost say the later months of his life, — he will
leave behind the memory of a great Christian statesman, . . .
He will be long remembered not so much for the causes in
which he was engaged, but as a great example, to which his-
tory scarcely furnishes a parallel, of a great Christian man."

*Purc«irs Life of MaKmit^g , vol. ii. p. 619. t H-, p. 676.

1904.]

PROFESSOJi HARNACK AND THE GOSPEL.

493

PROFESSOR HARNACK AND THE GOSPEL

BY REVEREND FATHER CUTHBERT, O.S.F.C.

'HREE years ago a sensation was caused in the
Protestant world by the publication of Professor
Harnack's lectures on the meaning of Chris-
tianity. Delivered extempore to a class of
German students, the lectures were taken down
by an enthusiastic disciple as they were spoken and afterwards
corrected by the lecturer and given to the public. They were
immediately translated into English; and both in Germany and
England were eagerly read and discussed.

Whatever one may think of Professor Harnack's conclusions,
the importance of these lectures in the theological world can
hardly be exaggerated. They are the last word of Protestant-
ism, formulated by one of the most learned and respected
leaders of Protestant thought. Boldly and without any hesita-
tion, and with a fervor of conviction which so often carries the
day in religious polemics, the German professor throws down
the gauge on behalf of Protestant Evangelicalism and challenges
the right of Catholicism to be considered a genuine interpre-
tation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. In Catholicism, with its
hierarchy, its sacraments, and its creeds, he sees but a secular
perversion of the Christian message. Christianity, he tells us,
is independent oi all secular organization and dogmatic formula :
it is nothing else than the direct communion of the individual
soul with God.

We have said that these lectures are the last word of
Protestantism. Yet to many Protestants they will come as a
shock. For in the course of his statement, Professor Harnack
arraigns official Protestantism more pitilessly than he does
Catholicism. The Protestant Reformation, in his eyes, did but
half accomplish the task of rescuing the pure word of the
Gospel from the secular corruptions of the church. Even
to- day, he says, the Protestant national churches are but "a
sorry double of Catholicism." • In establishing " counter-

• What is Christianity T xvi. p. 3514. Throughoul ihese papers I quole from the English
imtkUtion by T, B. Saunders,

PitOFESSOR HARNACK AND THE GOSPEL.

dkvrchcs" to oppose the Catholic Church, Protestantism was
M^thful to itself. After freeing the Word of God from the
Hmmuels of ecclesiasticism, it at once fettered the word in new
tnuatnels; and for these emasculated imitations of Catholicism
tkit author hardly conceals his contempt. I

These lectures, then, cannot have been pleasant reading for ■
lh« Anglican, or the orthodox Lutheran, or for any Protestant
who believes in any sort of hierarchical religion. Professor
M^rnAck makes it evident that if any ecclesiastical form can
justify itself by its consistency and achievements, it is Roman
Catholicism ; and that alone. That he rejects the claim of the
Catholic Church, as being opposed to the genius of the Gospel,
only suggests this question: Is there any logical middle course
between Professor Harnack's conception of Christianity and
Komun Catholicism ? ■

Long ago Cardinal Newman had decided that there was not,
and accordingly entered the church; for to him a church was
intpUed in the Gospel. Others faced by the same dilemma
have rejected the idea of a church altogether, because they
could not accept Roman Catholicism. Many a non-Catholic,
reading these lectures of the German theologian, will feel obliged
to ask himself the same question ; and doubtless, not a few will
[decide that there is no middle course ; either they must become
J*rutestants of the Harnackian type or Catholics. For them
iidlierence to any of the established Protestant churches will be
now impossible. ■

To Catholics, too, these lectures are of the utmost impor-
tance, since they crystallize sentiments and opinions which are
widespread outside the church and in definite, set terms
challenge Catholicism. The importance of these lectures is not
tlkat they set forth any new theory of Christianity. Professor
Maniack does but give voice to the thoughts of a vast number
of his fellow- Protestants. But he speaks with the authority of
one who is an acknowledged leader in the Protestant theological
world ; and he has spoken, too, at a moment when people are
anxious for a clear and definite programme of their religious
beliefs. This it is which demands for these lectures the serious
attention of the Catholic apologist. Scattered broadcast wher-
ever there is a Protestant reading public, and eagerly assimi-
lated, these lectures will undoubtedly be a powerful weapon
either on the side of Catholicism or against. To many Catho- i

1904.] Professor Harnack and the Gospel. 495

lies the chief point in the lectures will be Professor Harnack's
frequent misrepresentation of the Catholic position ; others will
see in them nothing but a rehash of familiar objections. But
to one who looks beyond the mere letter, these lectures have
a distinct importance of their own, inasmuch as they are a
sort of programme issued at a psychological moment by a
leading authority in the Protestant world, and embodying the
thoughts and convictions of a large and earnest multitude of
Protestants.

In this paper I propose only to consider Professor Harnack's
general analysis of the Gospel, leaving aside for another
occasion his lectures on Christology and the Church.

Professor Harnack begins by saying that " it is solely in its
historical sense " that he considers the question of the Gospel,
and that he seeks to answer the question as to what Chris-
tianity is only by employing the methods of historical science,
and " the experience of life gained by studying the actual
course of history." He puts aside, he tells us, the view taken
by the apologist and the religious philosopher; he speaks only
in the name oi critical historical science.

As a matter of fact, however, he goes beyond the purely
critical method, and does actually enter into the field of the
apologist on behalf of his own particular view of the Gospel.
He starts from the beginning with a thesis and manipulates
the Gospel to prove his thesis. Whatever in the Gospels may
be taken to favor his assertions, he accepts as the genuine
Gospel; whatever disproves his assertions, he regards as an
element foreign to the Gospel.

Thus, he quotes as the genuine Gospel all such texts as
declare the Fatherhood of God, Divine Providence, and the
immense value of the human soul. But he ignores as spurious
those parts of the Gospel which indicate Christ's intention of
founding a visible kingdom or a church, or which show the
Gospel to be otherwise than as Professor Harnack conceives it.
Thus, in reference to our Lord's birth he says: "Our Evan-
gelists, as we know, do not tell us anything about the history
of Jesus' early development ; they tell us only of his public
activity. Two of the Gospels, it is true, contain an introduc-

496

PJiOFESSOR HARNACK AND THE GOSPEL,

[Jan.,

tory history (the history of Jesus' birth) ; but we may disre-
gard it ; for even if it contained something more trustworthy
than it does actually contain, it would be as good as useless
for our purpose."* But a great deal of the evidence of the
Gospel is similarly disregarded by Professor Harnack, when it
does not suit his purpose.

Professor Harnack is not a Biblical specialist. Profoundly
learned in the history of the church, he is not in any proper
sense a Biblical scholar. But he has a theory about the Gos- ■
pel, and it is this. Not all that Jesus Christ taught belongs to
the message he was destined to bring to man. Living a man
amongst men, he grew up in the traditions of his race, which
he largely accepted and embodied into his teaching.

The true Gospel — "the Gospel in the Gospel"! — -is that
which Jesus Christ did not borrow from the Jewish people, but
which is distinctive of himself. The historian, therefore, will
accept as the true Gospel only what Jesus reveals from his
own knowledge of God and the soul, but not the traditions he
borrows from his contemporaries.

It will be well to keep this rule of Professor Harnack in J
mind. But here we would at once point out how he assumes
as a first principle that the Gospel can include nothing that
has already existed in Judaism ; just as later on, in his lec-
tures on the development of the church, he assumes that the
church may not properly assimilate to the Christian life any-
thing from Paganism. The Messianic doctrine in the Gospels
is, therefore, treated as a mere accretion from Judaism, in no
sense appertaining to the true Gospel. This, in fact, is said to
be contained in these three ideas: the Fatherhood of God,
Divine Providence, and the inBnite value of the human soul4
Apart from these ideas, all else in the Gospels is pure Jewish
tradition. Further, even in setting forth his own proper mes-
sage, Jesus Christ often uses Jewish phraseology and gives a
Jewish coloring to his teaching. Hence the historian "must
not cleave to words, but find out what is essential." § What
Professor Harnack deems essential we know; but who, except-
ing his most unquestioning disciple, will say that he arrived at
his conclusions by the mere historical method ? and that his
subjective prejudices have not oftentimes warped his critical
judgment or supplied premises where historical criticism is

» Lecture II., p. 30. ^ I<«ct. I., p. 14. \\.t9., IV., p. 68. } Lect. I., p. 13.-

I904.]

Professor Harnack and the Gospel.

497

wanting ? In separating the kernel from the husk^ — a favorite
phrase with the lecturer — he too often manifests the enthusiasm
of the apostle rather than the cool temperament of the critic.
And that perhaps is the secret of his influence.

Having set forth his general assumption that only what is
distinctive in our Lord's teaching is the true Gospel, Professor
Harnack goes on to analyze this distinctive teaching and to
separate the kernel from the husk. The whole message of
Jesus Christy he says, may be grouped under three heads, each
of which "is of such a nature as to contain the whole," so
that we get the entire teaching of our Lord under three differ-
ent aspects, according as the Gospel declares :

1. The Kingdom of God and its coming;

2. The Fatherhood of God and the infinite value of the human

soul ;

3. The higher righteousness and the commandment of love.

In each of these ideas the whole Gospel, he tells us, is set
forth in a fashion easily grasped by all ; and yet so rich is it
in meaning as to be ever escaping our reach.

Here it is, however, that Professor Harnack begins to find
himself in difficulties,

Taking the idea of the Kingdom of God and its coming, he
finds in the Gospels two conceptions antagonistic to each other.
On the one hand, it is undeniable that the Evangelists put
into the mouth of Jesus Christ certain declarations regarding
a future visible kingdom, an objective reality existing outside
the soul of the individual. On the other hand, we find our
Lord saying that the kingdom of God is within us. "His
message," to quote Professor Harnack's own words, " embraces
these two poles, with many stages between them that shade
off one into another. At the one pole the coming of the
kingdom seems to be a purely future event, and the kingdom
itself to be the external rule of God ; at the other, it appears
as something inward, something which is already present and
making its entrance at the moment." Which of these two con-
ceptions is the true one?

Professor Harnack has no hesitation in saying that the
latter conception only belongs to Jesus' message. The former
he " took from the traditions of his nation, where it already
occupied a foremost place; he accepted various aspects of it

PROFESSOR HARNACK AND THE GOSPEL.

LJan.,

in which the conception was still a living force, and he added
new ones. Eudemonistic expectations of a mundane and politi-
cal character were all he discarded. "• Therefore, since this
conception of a visible kingdom of God> an objective future
reality, is found in Jewish tradition, it is foreign to the true
Gospel, according to Professor Harnack's rule. No; the king-
dom of God is within you ; that is the only view of the
kingdom he will accept ; that view alone, he holds, belongs
properly to Jesus Christ. He feels, however, the difficulty which
arises from the fact that Jesus could teach both these views of
the kingdom and yet not see the contradiction. The fact that
both these views are set forth in the Gospel does not lead him
to seek an underlying unity of idea in which the apparent
contradictions are found to express but different aspects of the
same truth. He can see but two contradictory statements, one
of which must be discarded if the other is accepted. " It is
difficult," he says, " to reconcile, nay, it is scarcely possible to
bridge over, such an opposition as is involved, on the one
side, in a dramatic picture of God's kingdom existing in the
future, and on the other, in the announcement that 'it is in
the midst of you.'" But he finds comfort in the thought that
centuries hence people will find contradictions in our thoughts
and conceptions of things, of which we are not conscious to-
day. Thus he would explain our Lord's apparent unconscious-
ness of the contradiction in his teaching.

It is in the parables that the professor finds a confirmation
of his own view : " If any one wants to know what the king-
dom of God and the coming of it meant in Jesus' message he
must read and study his parables He will then see what it is I
that is meant. The kingdom of God comes by coming to the
individual, by entering into his soul and laying hold of it.
True, the kingdom of God is the rule of God ; but it is the
rule of the holy God in the hearts of individuals; it is God
himself in his power.

"From this point of view everything that is dramatic in the
external and historical sense has vanished ; and gone, too, are
ail the external hopes for the future. Take whatever parable A
you will, the parable of the sower, of the pearl of great price,
of the treasure buried in the field — the word of God, God
himself, is the kingdom. It is not a question of angels and

•Led. JIJ., p. St.

1904]

PliOFESSOR HARNACK AND ^HE GOSPEL.

499

devils, thrones and principalities, but of God and the soul,
the soul and its God." •

But is it as Professor Harnack says ? Let us look at the
parables of the kingdom for ourselves and see how far his asser-
tion is justified.

Now, the parables for the most part tell us nothing at all
about the nature of the kingdom, but are chiefly concerned
with setting forth the conditions upon which one may hope to
attain to the kingdom. In the parable of the Ten Virgins we
are taught the necessity of keeping one's lamp trimmed and
of watching for the coming of the Bridegroom. Does that
mean the coming of God to the individual soul or his coming
as Ruler of the new world in the eschatological sense.

Evidently it might have either meaning, and we find both
meanings accepted by the saints and doctors of the church.
But the taking of the virgins in groups — there are Jive wise
and five foolish — -seems to point to some social event. They
are in fact invited, not to individual communion with the
Bridegroom, but to his marriage feast : they are guests invited
to share in a common joy and partake of a family feast. This
conclusion is confirmed by the parable of the Marriage Feast,
where the kingdom is likened to a social gathering, where each
individual, as an invited guest, has a part.

In the parable of the Wheat and the Cockle the kingdom
is described as being here in this life only in the germ or the
making. It tells us how good and bad grow up together for
awhile until the harvest. Now, it is possible to give a merely
subjective interpretation to this parable, and to describe the
wheat and the cockle as the good and bad desires and acts
which exist in the heart of man. Yet the interpretation of
those who see here a picture of the church on earth, wherein
the future objective kingdom of God is being accomplished, is
at least as plausible, if not more so.

The one lesson of this parable, about which there can be
no possible dispute, is that the kingdom — whether objective or
subjective — is of gradual growth, and that man must be patient
in face of the presence of evil amongst the good^ and await the
harvest-time for the right judgment of things.

In the parable of the Leaven we have set forth again the
doctrine of the growth of the Kingdom, by the operation of the

•Led. III., p. 56,

500 PROFESSOR HARNACK AND THE GOSPEL. [Jan.,

Divine Word. Whether it is the objective kingdom is not said,
nor whether it is the subjective. All that we are given to
understand is that the Word of God is a leaven, leavening the
world ; and, as we may conclude from the figure of the parable,
transforming mankind gradually, but surely, after the fashion of
the leaven.

Of the Hidden Treasure and the Pearl of Great Price, all
we are told is that they are worth being bought even at the
sacrifice of all else. Here the lesson is simply that the king-
dom — whatever it is — is worth whatever sacrifice a man may be
called upon to make for its possession.

The parable of the Mustard Seed, however, surely points to
an objective kingdom, which from small beginnings, such as
the sparse gathering of disciples in Galilee, will grow into a
vast kingdom. This parable can hardly be interpreted in a
merely subjective sense without forcing the figure. Yet even so,
the point of the parable is again to enforce on the understand-
ing of the disciples the fact of growth in the formation of the
kingdom.

So far then the parables do not give, as Professor Hamack
so strangely asserts, the doctrine of a subjective kingdom, of
God's rule in the soul of the individual. What they do tell us
is simply that the kingdom is of gradual growth, that it is
worthy of all sacrifice for its attainment, or else they point out
certain conditions necessary for its attainment.

There is one parable upon which, perhaps, some stress might
be laid in support of Professor Harnack's thesis: the parable of
the Sower. This parable describes how the Word of God comes,
to the hearts of men, and how in some it is fruitful and in
others unfruitful. Jt is evidently upon this parable that Profes-
sor Hamack builds his theory that the kingdom is the Word
of God in the soul of the individual. Yet the more evident
interpretation is that the parable describes, not the kingdom
itself but the preaching of the kingdom. The sower is the
preacher, primarily Jesus Christ Himself, who scatters the seed;
that is, who proclaims the coming of the kingdom and the
conditions necessary for entering into it. That is the way the
kingdom is to be promulgated. Some listen to the Word and
accept it, and it takes root in their souls and transforms them
into worthy children of the kingdom, making them worthy of
the kingdom. Others, hojwicver, reject it; some at once and

1904]

PROFESSOR HARNACK AND THE GOSPEL.

501

rithout any pretence ; others at first listening weakly, and
finally withdrawing. Again we have but a description of the
manner in which the kingdom is to be established, and a
warning to those who hear the Word not to harden their hearts
or to receive it carelessly.

This only may be gathered from the parables regarding the
nature of the kingdom, that all may enter therein, whether
they be rich or poor or maimed, so long as they have fulfilled
the necessary moral conditions. The kingdom is open to all ;
it excludes none who have on the wedding garment. But to
understand the doctrine of the kingdom we must go beyond
the parables to the other discourses of our Lord.

Nobody reading the Sermon on the Mount can fail to be
struck by the objective view of the kingdom therein set forth.
The Sermon on the Mount looks forth upon a visible external
world, where are gathered together the poor in spirit, the
meek, the suffering, the clean of heart, the peace-makers, the
merciful, and those who have suffered for justice' sake. They
are gathered together as partakers of a common joy ; they arc
verily the guests at the marriage feast. Here in this present
time they will have to suflfer, but their suffering will be here-
after rewarded with gladness, for they will inherit the kingdom.

In these discourses the world to come is regarded as the
antithesis, yet the counterpart, of the present world. The dis-
ciples are bidden to look away from this world, with its trials
and pains, and to look beyond to another world, where alll
will be joy. It seems almost impossible to read this summary
of our Lord's ethical teaching, without being struck by its
outlook upon the kingdom as something external to the indi-
viduals themselves who share in its blessings; as a visible
society in which the ills of this life are rectified and the good
obtain their reward.

We might indeed refer to other passages in the Gospels
where this same objective view of the kingdom is even more
explicitly set forth; as when our Lord promised the Apostles
that they should be judges in the kingdom of His Father ;
or when he speaks of his second coming as Judg« of the
world ; or when he tells the sons of Zebedee that it belongs
to the Father to apportion the places of honor in the king-
dom. Ill al! such instances our Lord was either wilfully mysti-
fying his disciples or He Himself regarded the kingdom as a

fof

Professor Harnack and the Gospel.

[JaiL,

visible external society. And it is surely in the light of these
utterances that the parables are to be interpreted.

As we have seen, Professor Harnack admits that our Lord
did oftentimes speak of the kingdom as external and objective;
but he regards this part of our Lord's teaching as simply a
remnant of Jewish tradition, and not properly a part of the
Gospel. For his own thesis Professor Harnack falls back upon
the parables and the Sermon on the Mount ; yet it is evident
that neither the parables nor the Sermon on the Mount give
any proof whatever that the kingdom of heaven is merely
" God's rule within the individual soul " ; rather do they bear
witness to the fact that the kingdom is external, and its per-
fect fulfilment in the future. Certainly, taken in conjunction
with the eschatological teaching in the Gospel, both the para-
bles and the Sermon on the Mount, instead of being in con-
tradiction, are truly in harmony ; they set forth the ethical
conditions upon which the individual is granted access to the
kingdom. This and this only is the argument revealed in the
parables and the Sermon on the Mount, by the critical his-
torical method to which Professor Harnack appeals so confi-
dently.

But perhaps the best reply to his interpretation of the
Gospel is to put side by side with it the traditional Catholic
interpretation ; and then let the world judge which is the
more reasonable, and in accord with the words of the GospeL
The kingdom of heaven, according to the Fathers of the
church, has a very wide but definite significance. It refers to
man's life on this earth and to his life beyond in eternity ; it
refers to the spark of eternal life which is in every good man
even on this earth, and to the fuller life where man is con-
joined with man in heavenly society ; it refers again to the
budding society of the children of God here below, as well as
to the eternal consummation above.

Properly speaking, the kingdom of heaven in the Gospel
refers to that perfect society wherein God is absolute Lord,
surrounded by his faithful creatures. In this society the indi-
vidual tinds his perfection and his absolute joy. Herein there
can be no wickedness; justice and charity are its law. Such
was the kingdom Jesus Christ came to proclaim and to estab-
lish — a perfect human society with God as its Lord.

In this society human nature was not to be suppressed but

1904.] Professor Harnack and the Gospel. 503

exalted ; not destroyed but perfected. Here human relation-'
ships were to be endurable because purified, and human devel-'
opment would reach its highest pitch. Such was the dream
of the Prophets of the Old Law, expressed in their own alle-
gorical fashion ; such, too, was the idea of Jesus Christ. We
find the reflection of it constantly in his teaching. He does
not descry human relationships. At Cana he blesses by his
presence the marriage-tie; in the parental relationship he finds
the nearest analogy to the relationship properly existing between
God and man; the ordering of human society, even in its
present imperfect state, suggests to him analogies (or the king-
dom of heaven. In every natural development of human
nature he sees a prcfigurement of the future.

Our Lord, theOj evidently regarded the kingdom of heaven
as a human society, pervaded and governed by the presence of
God ; in which man, both individually and socially ^ would find
his highest development and happiness. And it was to be an
organic society, with Himself as sovereign Lord. Evidently
that was the impression he gave his disciples, else they would
not have asked to be accorded places of honor at his right hand
and his left. To be saved, thenj was to be made a member of
this purified and perfected human family or society. The in-
dividual was not to be exalted and crowned in isolated glory.
Blessedness comes from union with God and the company of
the Blessed.

That our Lord in speaking of the kingdom often adopted
the figurative language of the Prophets is explained by the
fact that he was speaking immediately to the Jews, and neces*
sarily spoke in language which would best convey to them the
notion of a kingdom.

But whilst he took the fashion of speech of the Prophets,
he nevertheless directed the minds of his hearers to a more
spiritual conception of the kingdom than that they already
accepted. His kingdom was not to be of this world; yet it
was to be a veritable organic kingdom. And this puzzled the
disciples, who were unable as yet to conceive of a purely
spiritual yet objective kingdom. And they seem to have been^
puzzled, too — much as Professor Harnack is puzzled to-day —
by the fact that our Lord spoke of His kingdom as in the
future, whilst yet he spoke of it as present in their midst.
Afterwards they came to understand, and they bear witness to

S04

>FSSSOJf MARNACK AND THE

[Jan.,

I
I

their uudei»tanding in the Acts of the Apostles and in the
Bpi*tlcs. The kingdom is in the future, and yet in the
pfHiKtnt. It iy the goal towards which humanity, under the
dirtctioa of Jesus Christ, is ever tending. It belongs not to
iKit OArth hut to eternity. Only when man has passed beyond
the limitations of this present life will he enter into the pos-
MBkion of the kingdom and into a full participation in the life
of bcMtified humanity.

As .luch. then, the kingdom is for us a grand hope — the
g<t«l i»f humanity. Nevertheless it may be said to be truly
pr<^)lelU, even now among us. For though it is consum-
lUAtod in eternity, it has its foundations here in time. Man, in fl
so far as he becomes filled with the spirit of God, already ™
enters into the kingdom, yet only in an imperfect sense, since
no man on earth is so free from the limitations and imperfec- ■
tiona of earthly existence as to be able to enjoy a complete or
continuous participation in the eternal. Moreover, until man is
finally perfected in the conditions necessary for entering into
the kingdom, until he is utterly transformed, there is always
the possibility of his falling away. In this present life a man
may be said at the best to stand at the gate of eternity, with
occasional glimpses into the land beyond. Only when he has
passed into the land beyond can he be said to have properly
gained the kingdom ; here he can have but an imperfect fore-
taste.

Life on earth, therefore, is essentially a preparation for the
kingdom to come; yet not merely a preparation, but also the
beginning of the fulfilment. And in this fact, that it is also
the beginning of the fulfilment of the promised kingdom, Chris-
tianity differs from the Jewish Law, which was merely of the
nature of a preparation, and nothing more. In Christianity
man obtains a certain perception and realization of the life of
the children of God, which, imperfect though it must be be-
cause of our earthly conditions, is nevertheless a real partici-
pation in the life to come. The Christian who is truly such is
raised in some measure beyond the merely earthly life by which
he is surrounded ; he sees things in a certain spiritual perspec-
tive ; he understands somewhat the eternal things to which the
merely earthly man is blind, and he is conscious to some
extent of his own eternal destiny. Thus he already stands
within the portals of the kingdom. Or, to use another marmer

1904] "professor Harnack and the Gospel. 505

of speech, the kingdom of God is already among them;
nevertheless, only in an imperfect fashion. The full reality is
accomplished in the future and in eternity.

It begins, however, in time. And how is this beginning
brought about ? Is it brought about simply by the conversion
of the individual, and by the individual's personal communion
with God ? No ; for if so, both the preparation for the king-
dom and the participation in its life already accorded us, will
be of a character contrary to that of the kingdom itself. As
the life of the kingdom is social as well as individual, so must
be the preparation for it, whereby man is fitted to enter into
it, and so too will be the participation in the life of the king-
dom given us even now.

The Gospel is addressed not merely to the individual but
to humanity ; and it works upon the individual not merely
from within, but also from without. It ever regards man as a
member of society ; and whilst placing the highest value upon
man's individuality — a fact unhappily lost sight of by not a
few Christian apologists and devotional writers, especially during
the last few centuries — yet nevertheless never loses sight of his
organic dependence upon the society to which he belongs. If
he sins, his sin is an oflfence not only against God but against
the church ; if he prays, his prayer has a special value when
he speaks in union with his fellow-disciples. The kingdom is
in truth planted in the heart of the individual ; yet it embraces
all individuals; and it embraces them all not in their character
of mere individual units, but in all their relationships with each
other.

There is indeed a sense in which the individual stands alone
with God, and in which " God and the soul, the soul and God"
Is a right religious formula. None know that better than the
mystics of the Catholic Church. Each individual soul stands
in a particular and special relationship with God, shared with
no other individual. That truth is but the logical deduction
from the fact of individuality.

But it is also true that no individual can reach God except
in conjunction with all the children of God ; and this truth is
but a logical deduction from the fact that no individual is so
absolutely isolated from his fellows as not to share with them
the common life which makes all creation one. The perfection
of the individual lies in the equation of these two truths.

S09

PROFESSOR HARNACfC AND THE GOSPEL,

[Jan..

In practice the equation is not always easy to determine,
and is possible only to the "meek and humble of heart."
Yet in so far as one approaches to it, he attains to a per-
fectly human life. No man, therefore, can rightly talk of him-
self and God as though the outside world does not in any
sense enter in ; no man can truly say that he exists alone with
God, as though there were also not a necessary approach to
God through his creatures.

To sum up the Gospel as Professor Harnack sums it up is,
then, a denial of the very nature of man as a social being. A
man is properly himself only when he recognizes his kinship
with his fellow- men. The Gospel would not be as wide as
human nature, nor take in the whole man, did it regard the
individual merely as an individual, and not also as a unit in
the social boily.

But if it regards man in his social quality and as a social
being, and if it is to give man a share in eternal life even here
on earth, we must expect to find even here on earth an organic
society In which this side of man's life will find its satisfaction ;
and which will be, so to speak, the kingdom in germ. This
aociety is the church on earth. In the church we see the
'kingdom in a state of formation, inasmuch as men are being
formed Into citizens worthy ot the eternal kingdom. In this
process of formation we find both the scope and the limitation
o( the ch»irch on earth, and the explanation of much that
oIleiKU the eye of those who seek in the church the consum-
plIiMlrd kingdom, wherein all is perfect as Christ is perfect,
'he church on earth is necessarily a commingling of the
\ih\\a\ and the temporal, of the heavenly and the earthly.
Therein one must expect to find the evil-minded, the hypocrite,
and (lie worUling, hustling against the clean of heart, the poor
lit aitidt anil tlic meek. So it must be until the harvest, when
\\\9 whrat shall be separated from the tares. Meanwhile the
ll^tud liNi beint; gathered together and formed into heavenly
«<llUf*hB i thfy «rc being educated in the virtues — social as well as
iHklHOUul — which belong to the heavenly society, and are brought
lutti lifttl^ar nilationships with their fellow- men and with God.

Hwr^, however, we must remark how the church — and the
Ou«)iii \\\ <l>e church — acts upon the world. Properly, the
^htirvll act* upon society through the individual, since the
fl)i)i(tAl t^l ll\* church (or the sanction of her laws and precepts

1904.]

PROFESSOR HARN^ACK AND THE GOSPEL.

507

is not to force but to conscience, and conscience is the most
individual thing on earth; the last expression of human
individualism. For in conscience the general and abstract
principles of right become one's personal possession. A mode
of action may be good in itself, yet will it have no strictly
moral mandate till I recognize that it is good for me, and that
in not receiving it I fail in goodness. Then only does the
general principle become a personal rule of conduct, determin-
ing my morality or immorality.

To observe a rule of conduct merely because some exter-
nal force compels me, is not to be moral. Morality demands
the assent of the mind to rule or principle as to the law of
righteousness which properly forms my own life. I may indeed
give my assent either upon my own immediate knowledge of
the necessary relationship between an ethical truth and my own
spiritual life — and this, of course, is in itself the better way.
Or I may give my assent upon the authority of one whose knowl-
edge of the law and of myself I can reasonably trust ; and this
is the way men of necessity largely depend upon in building
up their moral lives. In both cases the assent is a true human
assent. The church, then, has so to manifest the principles of
the Christian life that men may see in them the truth and law
of their own lives, or she must win their allegiance to her own
guidance in such way as to make their acceptance of the truth
a moral and spiritual act; in other words, she must act on the
individual conscience, in order to build up the Divine society
of the eternal kingdom. In this sense is the Gospel a mes-
sage to the individual soul; acting on the world at large through
the conscience of the individual ; and in this sense it is true to
say that Christianity is the consecration of individualism in re-
ligion. Only the individualism thus consecrated is the indivi-
dualism proper to human nature — ^the individualism of the free
citizen, not the individualism of the anarchist. For that is what
Professor Harnack's individualism comes to; it is sheer anar-
i chism in religion, with no test of morality save one's own con-
science, and no test of faith save one's own interpretation.
But what if a man has an erroneous conscience, or if his inter-
pretation be false ? Professor Harnack feels the force of the
objection, and replies that the Gospel is so simple that no man
can misunderstand it, if left entirely free,* But he himself

• Lect. XIV.. p. 375.
VOL. IXXVIIl. — 33

Arrives at the simplicity of the Gospel only by eliminating ail
that the Christian world has found difficult and mysterious once
it beg&o to meditate upon the Gospel.

So much, then, for the assertion that the Gospel is merel/
a message to the individual soul, and that the Kingdom of God
is merely God's rule in the soul of each man. As we havol
»een. the Icingdocn means God's rule in the soul of the indivi-ii
dual indeed ; but in the souls of all individuals, and over a!
ittdtviduals in their collective existence as humanity as well
in their merely personal existence. Moreover the kingdom ia
the Gospels does not mean merely God's present rule here on the
earth ; it means properly God's rule in eternity when the forces
o( this world are utterly overcome. It is only in an inchoative
sense that we speak of God's Kingdom in the Church Militant
or ,in the hearts of the faithful on earth. For here and at
present the forces of evil are still with us» and God's King-
dom is not yet finally established.

SOGI^AIPES.

BY ELEANOR C. DONNELLY,

GAINST the darkness of a heathen age.
Like whitest cameo, exquisite, set
Upon a velvet panel, black as jet,
Shines forth the soul of this immortal sage.
He knew not Christ: yet seems his life a page
Of almost Christian truth and selflessness —
Yea, courage, continence. 'Twas his to wage,
'Gainst pagan vice, a war that saints might bless.

His, too, Athenian youth it was to mould

To manhood pure and true. O Socrates 1

Thy zeal were welcome Aer^. The young, the old

Claim, in our day, like selfless ministries;

And all need lesson from thy Daemon odd:

The voice of Conscienck is the voice of Goi

I904.]

Behind the Dunes.

509

BEHIND THE DUNES.

BY NINA DE GARMO SPALDING.

SAW Holland first through the eyes of Walter
Pater. The spirit, conservative, withdrawn, and
filled with the dread of the sea which breathes
from his Sebastian Van Storck, seemed to brood
over the land, making any demonstrations of tem-
perament or architecture seem irreverent, as though one laughed
in the face of death which lay beyond the dykes. The flat
country shares with the sea the fascination of seeming limitless
space, and the waves of field and meadow flow on until they
reach the shore, wheie they break into foam and dash their
spray high into the air in white sand dunes.

Then the details of travel broke my impressions into many
colors, and I began to feel that my mind resembled an anti-
quarian's shop filled with a jumble of weigh-houses, town halls,
orphan asylums, cathedrals, towers and chimes, until I almost
despaired.

We fled from the paths of travel and the dress parade of
the peasants who smile for pennies, and found ourselves one
day at Enkhuizen on the western side of the Zuider Zee. We
studiously avoided those hotels starred by Herr Baedeker,
appreciating, however, to the full his other services to travelling-
kind; so we relinquished our bags to the man with the unknown
name on his cap and followed him along the dykes in delight-
ful speculation.

We were approaching a tower which from a quick reading
of Baedeker we thought must be the Drommedaris. left from
the sixteenth century fortifications. The sea was sparkling off
to the right in the setting sun as though Marguerite had
spilled upon it her casket of immortal jewels. To the left were
perspectives of canals, neat rows of trees, and houses like those
in Spotless Town. Then from the tower a sound of chimes
fell upon our ears tinkling out some old forgotten opera. We
stopped and listened, and the Soldier-Father bared his head

5io BElfIND THE DUNE$. [Jan.,

until the end and it tolled the hour of six. I have never
heard chimes like them, so sweet, so delicate, and with such
grace. Although they called me every hour all the long night
through, I never failed to feel their charm — a charm that was
filled with sadness, I could not tell why.

We were the only people in the hotel, and my room was
the grand front chamber. Great beams ran across the ceiling,
with brackets of seventeenth century knights and bishops. I
turned a key in the side of my wall and pulled. The door
opened, and I found to my joy the traditional bed of the
Dutchman. So the iron bed in the corner was only a twen-
tieth century concession. It felt like one, at any rate^ when I
tried to sleep on it.

That evening we walked around the town looking at the
Weigh-House, the Kerks, the Orphan Asylum, and the beauti-
ful canals. No one had told us how charming a town it was,
and you never appreciate the enthusiasm of a guide book until
you have italicized it with your own experience. We had come
from Edam up to Enkhuizen as the nearest way to get across the
sea to Priesland, and here we were already talking about pitch-
ing our tents for a week. But, we argued, as we sat out on
the pier watching the moon rise over the sea while the Father
smoked his twilight cigar, if this place which had not been
emphasized to us were so fascinating, what might not the
others prove which had ? And so we cheated ourselves into
leaving in the early morning, neither of us thinking of the
good old proverb about a bird in the hand. We were punished
though, for we never again gave our love so unreservedly. And
to me there are no chimes in the world like those of Enkhuizen.
There may be grander chimes, nobler chimes, more perfect
chimes, but none which weave a spell like those beside the
Zuider Zee.

Perhaps in losing our little wonder-town we really have kept
it. Who knows but we might have execrated the chimes
after a night or two. A fog might have come and blotted out
the sun and the rain might have washed our love away.

A half-grown fisher boy had followed us out on the pier,
his large brown eyes fixed always upon me. He moved when
we moved, his full trousers flapping in the night breeze just
springing up. I saw a question in his eyes, so to help him
said, " Do you speak English ? " He blushed and answered

1904.

iEHIND THE DUNES.

I
I

"A little." "Are there many fishing boats here?" I con-
tinued; but he niet verstood, so we lapsed again into silence
broken once more by the chimes.

After awhile he asked if we were English. ** Nay," I said,
" American." Then his face lighted up. " Know you Mr.
Dennison in America?" It was humiliating to confess our
ignorance ; and so ended our little talk with the fisher lad of
the Southern Sea.

The morning was yet of a very tender age when we arose
to take the little steamer for Stavoren, but it had grown to be
a lusty infant before the leisurely little boat slipped away and
Enkhuizen became a memory. There were only two other
passengers, but their heads were well worth studying. I was
so interested in the wonders of their gearing, the close gold
helmet with yards of lace capping it surmounted by an old-
fashioned bonnet of too recent a date to have become pictur-
esque, that I almost forgot the sensation which I had promised
myself of sailing over buried cities upon that, hypocritical,
laughing sea. It was hard to force myself into a " melancholy
mood " with so much sunshine spread about. I tried to imag-
ine the angry waters breaking the bonds which man had cast
upon them: rushing in, overtaking men and women in their
work and children in their play ; devouring whole towns in
their savage hunger. The peace and calm of the day was in
strange contrast to this tragedy of ages long gone by.

We reached Stavoren in an hour and a half and took the
train for Hindeloopen. We got out when the guard called the
name, and stood looking around for the village. There was a
tiny station, and a tall, sleepy boy who came out to get the
mail bags, and nothing but fields on every side — fields, canals,
and distant wind-mills.

" Where is the town of Hindeloopen ? " I asked the boy in
German — and it is a strange thing about my German that they
understand it much better in Holland than they do in Germany.
He turned and pointed to a glistening spot by the sea, speak-
ing in Dutch the while, which I translated liberally to the
Father. " He says that this is only the station and that
Hindeloopen is over there." I could not remember what car-
riage was, so I asked him where we could find a horse. " In
Hindeloopen," he answered solemnly. There was nothing for
it but to walk, so we marched along that sunny road in mili-

512

Behind the Dunes.

[Jan.,

tary style, while children ran out to open occasional gates for
us. There was a high embankment on our right, up which the
Soldier-Father scrambled to observe the country round. He
called to me to come, and then I cried out with delight,
for it was the dyke of the Zuider Zee. We continued along
the smooth crest to the town, not more than a mile and a half
distant. The town crier was just then gojng his rounds, so we
followed the beat of his drum. This was a novel sight to me,
never having been to Nantucket. The roll of his r's would
have been quite as effective as the roll of his drum.

It seems trite to say that it is a quaint little village. Every
one describing Holland uses just that phrase sooner or later,
and yet they are the only words that spring to my pen, for it
certainly was a quaint little town. It is a territorial differ-
ence between country towns in Holland and America. A
Dutch village is just a little city with all of the city institu-
tions, albeit smaller and poorer. The houses have no more
land about them than in one of larger size, while in our coun-
try a village is a bunch of small farms.

Some one had told us that we must ask for Mr. EUsemer;
but we had forgotten what Mr. Ellsemer was. He might be
the burgomeister or he might be the grocer ; but lest we should
miss something of interest we hunted him out and found him
to be the proprietor of the funny little hotel with its rooms
full of Hindeloopen treasures — old Delft whose colors made
my heart stand still with delight, and carved furniture that
would make the reputation of an American drawing-room.
The pride of the genial, white-whiskered patriarch, when he
showed us his collection, was as great as though he had not
been brought up among such things — and his prices as high.
Perhaps his son, who he told us lived in America, was
responsible.

We engaged him to drive us over to Workum, and went
for another walk while they got the carriage ready. When we
returned at the appointed moment — we always do things with
military precision — Mr. Ellsemer sent a boy to bring the horse
around. He returned in a few minutes to say that some one
else, not knowing that he wanted it for anything especial, had
gone off with it. We despaired ! We usually despaired at
least three times a day. But the village blacksmith came to
the rescue with a horse and carnage, both of which he had

1904]

BEHIND THE DUNES.

513

evidently inherited from his great-grandfather — and he himself
v^as an old man.

Workum was a far richer town, with a Kerk in which was
some of the finest wood-carving of North Holland, and an inn
■writh a beautiful little maid, who served us with a delicious
luncheon. I shall probably remember it longest for one rea-
son, the Father for the other. The pride of the custodians of
the cathedrals is delightful, and their sorrow at the vandalism
of their own Protestant ancestors when in their fanatical zeal,
sX the time of the Reformation, they whitewashed the frescoed
'avails and struck oiT the heads of the saints on the bas-reliefs,
as a thing edifying to witness.

We went to Sneek in the afternoon, thinking that we
»night stay there all night; but we found the inevitable kir-
xness camped out in the square and spoiling the facades of the
principal buildings with its tinsel and satin ; so after a long
"^valk we took the train for Bolsward.

I must say something cross about that Dutch institution,
"She kirmess; it haunted us; we could not escape it, and we
groaned in spirit when we saw a distant booth. We met it
^rst in Haarlem and embraced it heartily. We even spent our
precious gulden on the " happy horse," as a French waiter
in our own American Harlem called the merry-go-round. We
saw the Boer War in a cinematograph and applauded Kruger
and Cronje with the Dutchmen, and heard them hiss Kitchener
and Lord Bobs. We split strips of a kind of doughy cake
"with a hatchet, trying in three whacks to win another piece
^rom the booth — a game of chance over which the small boys
go wild. We threw pennies to the street acrobats and smiled
at the clowns. I blush to tell of the extravagances into which
Ave were led by our first experience of a kirmess. It quite
took our minds off from Haarlem, and my memory of the
cathedral is hazy above the booths which clustered at its base.
Alas! we were brought to justice, and kirmess week fol-
lowed us north; we could not get behind it nor before it.
We would arrive in a quiet town at night, and congratulate
ourselves on the peace and rest as we wandered about the
squares and along the canals; but in the morning, behold the
metamorphosis 1 A mushroom growth of ornate booths had
desecrated the ancient splendor of stone and tile. There were
always the same tents, the same cafes, the same automatic

514 Behind the Dunes. [Jan.,

swings, the same "happy horses," and the same excited, con-
fetti-throwing peasants singing the "Washington Post." Is it
any wonder that we fled to Bolsward?

There we found the realization of all of our hopes, the
Mecca of our desires. There was no straight, black line of
railroad running to Bolsward nor through it on our map; nor
could we find a stoom hooten advertised. There was a faint
blue line, however, that told us we would somewhere find a
mongrel affair that ran on tracks and would transport us for a
consideration. These Dutch trolley lines, with their close,
rattling cars and puffing openwork engines, are a cross between
throughbred trains and our own well-meaning street cars.
They are ponderous in manner, yet with a certain absence of
formality which does not inspire respect. The necessity of
just catching them always made us cross, and after an undigni-
fied scramble I quite lost caste with myself. Still we blessed
the tram that took us to Bolsward. A town with no railroad
and no regular boat line surely would be undesecrated by the
rush of travel — and so we found it.

Imagine a village so lost to the sense of our ruling passion
of progress that the hotel, although it tries in gilded letters to
impress the phlegmatic public with the fact that it has a name
all its own, is still called after the old proprietor, dead these
twenty years.

The spirit of quiet and peace and contentment was almost
material, one felt it so strongly. I wanted to dip my fingers
in it, to bathe in it, at least to put some of it in a bottle and
take it home with me. Good feeling and brotherly love reigned
too in that little town. They welcomed us with open hearts
and heads uncovered. Even the small boys nodded their
greetings. It was as though we had just come home after a
long absence. The Father was also impressed with this feeling,
for he said, half to himself, " All these years we have been
exchanging our birthright for a mess of pottage." "Then we
will stay here until we tire of it?" I asked tentatively. The
response came with the precision of a shot, " We '11 stay."

We have made an important discovery in our ramblings —
that cities have as distinct personalities as people. As soon as
we would reach the station we began feeling the influence of
the aura of the town, and by the time we had come to our
hotel we knew whether we would be attracted or repelled.

I904.]

Behind the Dunes.

5'5

Sometimes a great glittering city, dotted with Baedeker stars,
would fill us with unaccountable aversion. So it was with
Rotterdam. We had planned to stay there for a week, but
before night we found ourselves in that dear delightful Hague,
with the bustling self-importance and egotism of Rotterdam but
a memory. This personality has nothing to do with the dress
of the town. It is as much a thing apart as with people. It
is the soul which shines through the windows and vibrates even
from the cobble-stones. We felt immediately on good terms
with the little peasant town of Bolsward and returned the
cordial salutations cheerily.

In the evenings we wandered along the canals shaded by
freat trees, and through the narrow streets with their crooked
little houses, which had astonishing dates upon them telling of
the time of their construction in the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries. The soil of Holland is sandy and the stones have sunk
until the streets are very much out of drawing and a T-square
would be of very little use to an artist in sketching them. Some-
times houses that are quite twenty feet apart at the foundation
have barely five feet of sky between their eaves, and their pro-
found salaams look absurdly polite. We caught charming
glimpses, too, of their home life. In every window, glowing
in the twilight, on a low table stood a tea-stove. They were
made of tiles or green pottery, and the steam arose from the
little kettles alluringly. Every home used them and they seemed
to be the hall-mark of Dutch respectability.

One morning bright and early I set out with my sketching
kit, and the Father carefully hid me under a bridge with a
stretch of canal before me ; its boats and wind-mills arranged
so like the Delft tile scenes that I quite expected them to be
blue. He strolled away when he saw that I was very much
occupied, after inquiring anxiously if I knew the way back to the
hotel. Several children gathered on the bridge above me and
watched my brush absorbedly. The hours fled until something
told me it was luncheon-time.

I met the Father at the table, and he walked back with
nie to my place of vantage under the bridge. Then he started
off on an afternoon tramp to a neighboring village. For a
long time I heard nothing, interest in my work obscuring all
sounds and other sights. Gradually I became aware of a clat-
tering of' clumpen on the boards of the bridge, a sound as of

516 Behind the Dunes. [Jan.,

much- passing to and fro. Then a mighty though muffled
whispering pierced thte outer wrappings of my consciousness,
and I vaguely ^elt myself to be the object. It was not a com-
fortable sensation, and it was a moment before I dared to look
above me. The discovery of fifty heads crowded together
gazing down over the rail, with a hundred eyes that looked
calmly into mine with no change of expression, was certainly
disconcerting. I felt that something must be done, and that it
was my part to do it ; so I nodded and smiled a half-grown smile
destined never to reach its majority, for I felt that sense of
foreordained failure which sometimes comes to us when our
advances are repulsed by a child. There was yet no change in
the hundred serious eyes, so I turned again to my sketch. My
interest had basely deserted me, but who of all those critics
would censure its flight; for what an inadequate daub was
mine in the face of the beautiful reality! Where were the
glowing colors I had just now put on? Where was the effect
I had almost reached ? Gone — lost in the judgment of those
who knew and loved their Holland better than I.

I weakly contemplated flight before I again took up my
brush with a trembling hand, but I had come for a purpose
and — well an American woman's determination came to the
rescue and made me stay. I felt like a lightning artist I had
once seen in a shop on Broadway, who dashed off impossible
landscapes for the edification of a chance audience and inci-
dentally to further the sale of sewing machines. This was
quite my first experience, and consequently painful ; but after
a few brave strokes, with accompanying critical whispers, my
delinquent interest came back and the moments flew by.

The crowd grew momentarily. Those children must have
carried the good news from Aix to Ghent. They came from
all directions and looked down upon me. There were old men
with wide, flapping trousers, and young men in blue jeans ;
old women, young women, and children in caps and ample
aprons, and all wearing wooden shoes. There was a Sabbath
quiet in, the air, and I afterwards learned that it was a fete
day of some kind. I began to feel that I was furnishing
entertainment for the entire population. One old lady, braver
than the rest, scrambled down the bank beside me and talked
volubly, with many gestures that directed my attention to a
cottage across the canal before which stood an old man peace-

I904.]

BEHIND THE DUNES.

517

fully smoking his pipe. I smiled and nodded my appreciation ;
of whatj I did not know, but she did. She cHmbed up the
bank again and I watched her hasten away across the bridge
until she took up her station in the little yard beside him.
She nodded her bright old head at me, as though to say, ** Now
you may commence." Then I understood. They were posing
for a picture. There was no way to tell them that I did not
wish to paint them, and so they stood stiffly and patiently for
two hours — a pathetic picture certainly — while I went on with
my work.

Several small boys, emboldened by her example, came down
beside me. They crowded close in their eflForts to see, which
office they seemed to think would be better performed by their
noses than by their eyes. However, I had a friend on the
bridge in the person of a wrinkled old man, who leaned far
over the rail and poked the too familiar lads away with a long
fish-pole, aided by a hail-storm of sharp- cornered Dutch words
that sounded as though they would sting. It was quite the
most effective work that I have ever seen a Dutch fish- pole
accomplish. Everywhere in Holland we found patient fisher-
men along the banks of the canals sitting hour after hour hold-
ing their poles before them; but never by any chance have we
seen a fish, nor any evidence of the catching of one. There
must be a tradition pertaining to a grandfather, removed by many
greats, who once caught a fish, for they have been striving
ever since to land its mate or possible descendants.

The ever-increasing crowd was quiet and respectful, and I
gradually regained my trust in human nature — a trust which is
much easier to keep undisturbed when people speak one's own
language or one which may be acquired.

At last, my sketch being brought as far as lay in my power,
I gathered up my paints and rose to go. It needed another
influx of courage to walk through the crowd, past the bridge,
and down the street beside the canal. I felt a sense of incom-
pleteness. It was as though I had played my part upon a
stage and had come down ignominiously among the audience.
I wanted to make my bow and let the curtain fall. I sympa-
thized with myself as I have always sympathized with the
soloist in a choir who sits down after a song and faces a silent
congregation. There was no applause, nothing but deadly
silence, friendly or hostile as one's imagination chose to make

5i8

Behind the Dunes.

[Jan.,

it. I walked along on my way home, and cast a glance of
farewell back at my friends who had quietly stood for so many
hours and watched me.

The crowd had turned. They were facing me. They were
moving towards me. There was no denying it ; they were
following me. I hastened on. They hastened too, and three
hundred wooden shoes hastening in conjunction with rough
cobble-stones was an alarming sound. It was like a whole
cavalcade of mounted police — if indeed police travel after one M
poor, little, frightened waif in cavalcades. I walked slowly. ■
They too walked slowly. I stopped and looked into the canal.
They stopped and looked into the canal, crowding and pushing
one another to see what I saw. I walked on a few steps and
on they came again. It grew unbearable. I could stand this
mysterious following no longer, so I turned and faced them. I
was thoroughly angry by this time and my tongue would not
be stilled, although I knew that speech was useless. I
asked them to go to their homes and let me go to mine in
peace : " I am not a part of the circus nor yet of the kirmess,"
I cried. Then I saw the Father on the bridge viewing the
scene with astonishment and amusement. I walked through
the mob, as I had now come to consider it, and hurried to his
side while my erstwhile friends made up their minds to tum^
again and follow me.

"Hold the bridge!" I panted; and then I ded up the other
side of the canal. But in my flight I turned and saw thefl
Soldier-Father standing his ground firmly, his arms folded with
great dignity, and facing the multitude. I stood still and
laughed. " Bravo, brave Horatius ! " I cried. " Constant still
in mind. Thrice thirty thousand foes before while I flee home
behind." Abashed, the crowd melted away and I reached the
Wiebes in safety.

This was but one of our many Bolsward experiences, and
the others were all unequivocally happy and completely offset
in memory the misfortune of this one.

The name of America proved an Open Sesame to the home
of the wine merchant who was introduced to us through the
medium of window-gazing. While we were making use of this
prerogative of tourists, he came out to answer possible ques-
tions, and before we quite understood what had happened we
found ourselves transported through a maze of Dutch and

I904-]

Behind the dunes.

519

German words into their little parlor and sat drinking their
best wine and smiling at the old man and his little wife. She
was bursting with Dutch curiosity, which he translated in
labored German, and I answered in that equally hard-used
tongue. Their son, they told us, had gone to America several
years before, and was now the manager of some iron works in
Chicago. His picture showed the type of man whom we are
pleased to fancy a thorough American, and his wife's photo-
graph was certainly of an up-to-date American girl. It seemed
hard to reconcile the little pictured family, and all that their
faces and dress implied of ease and social life, with this primi-
tive upbringing ; but from such smail beginnings grow the pow-
erful of our land. Holland furnished the staunch integrity and
its inheritance of thrift, and the United States furnished the
opportunities lacking in the older countries. We left Friesland
with an added respect for our own country, where such meta-
morphoses are constantly being wrought. We gave three
enthusiastic cheers for America when the doors of our com-
partment had safely slammed upon us and we were on our
way to tourist civilization again.

'^^^l

— *

pm Bbnbdigipion.

A MIST of fragrant incense fills the air,
And veils tlie lights upon the altar-tHrone ;
A low hymn rises in a reverent tone
L/ike the tranced echo of an angel's prayer,
And silent glory lingers everywhere.
The trusting eyes of faith look up and own
Their God; — He comes triumphant; not alone,
For angels bend in adoration there I
Our earth-bound souls, exulting, try to trace
The beauty of the Man-God's wondrous Face,
Our lips grow mute, — our hearts alone can tell
The thrills of love, the pleading prayers that swell.
Oh I rapturous moments when to earth is given
This one faint glimpse of God, — this gleam of heaven 1

LOUISE Murphy.

1904]

The idea of habit.

521

THE IDEA OF HABIT.

BY REV. THOMAS VERNER MOORE, C.S.P.

jT is somewhat astonishing — considering the enor-
mous activity in experimental psychology--that
more should not have been done in recent times
to throw light on the important problem of
habit. Many text-books have been written with-
out any more than passing allusions to habit scattered through
chapters which treat of kindred mental states. Carpenter, how-
ever, in his Mental Philosophy has devoted a chapter to habit
in which he has made many valuable remarks concerning the
development of habits, basing his statements on the principles
of organic growth. James, in the first volume of his Principles
of Psychology, has an interesting chapter which is of no little
pedagogical value on account of the principles governing the for-
mation of habits which the author has there brought together.
There have been, indeed, a number of valuable pieces of
experimental work directly bearing on such mental processes as
memory and association, and therefore indirectly on habit ; but
the problem of habit has not been experimentally approached
ex profisso except in a very few pieces of research.

Perhaps the most philosophical treatment of the problem in
modern times is that of Leon Dumont in the first volume
of the Revue Philosophique.*

The purpose of the present article is merely an attempt
to clarify the idea of habit ; or, if you will, to bring out in
bolder relief the idea of habit which is implied in the ordi-
nary and popular use of the word. In modern writing so
much attention is paid to the organic conditions of habit
that the naive implication of common usage is forgotten.
Whether or not this latent idea of habit is justifiable is a prob-
lem which each one will settle for himself in the light of his
own philosophical convictions. We do not attempt here to jus-
tify the idea, but merely to give it clearer definition.

James, Carpenter, and Dumont alt devote a great part of

• 1876, pp. 391-366.

The 'tDE'A t)F Ha^it.

[Jan.,

their treatment of habit to the organic processes which it involves,
and the corollaries which may thence be drawn. And in doing
so they at least seem to imply that material things can really
be the subject of habits as well as the mind. James even goes
so far as to say: "The moment one tries to define what habit
is, one is led to the fundamental properties of matter. The lawg
of Nature are nothing but immutable habits which the different
elementary sorts of matter follow in their actions and reactions
upon each other. In the organic world, however, the habits ,
are more variable than this. . . . The habits of an elemen-
tary particle of matter cannot change (on the principles of the
atomistic philosophy) because the particle is itself an unchange-
able thing; but those of a compound mass of matter can
change because they are in the last instance due to the struc-
ture of the compound, and either outward forces or inward
tensions can, from one hour to another, turn that structure
into something different from what it was. That is, they can do
so if the body is plastic enough to maintain its integrity and be
not disrupted when its structure yields. . , , Plasticity, then,
in the wide sense of the word, means the possession of a struc-
ture weak enough to yield to an influence, but strong enough
not to yield all at once. Each relatively stable phase of equi-
librium in such a structure is marked by what we may call a
new set of habits. Organic matter, especially nervous tissue,
seems endowed with a very extraordinary degree of plasticity of
this sort; so that we may without hesitation lay down as our
first proposition the following, that the plunomena of habit in
living beings are due to plasticity of the organic materials of
which their bodies are composed^ •

These words of Professor James are in harmony with the
somewhat extreme position taken by M. Dumont,t who says
that habit is a universal fact — a fact not only of the organic
world, but of the inorganic world as well. Indeed, both these
writers seem to say that there are habits in mere brute matter, I
as well as in living organisms, in bricks and stones, as well as
in men ; but that they differ in degree — inorganic habits are
simpler and more stable, organic habits are more complex and
variable.

The first question suggested by such a position is this:
Are we justified in applying the term habit to the inexorable

' Prmdftu of Psythakgy, I. pp. 104-5. t L. e., p. 33a.

1904]

The idea of habit.

523

laws which govern the complex movements of • the inorganic
world, and to the variable tendencies of the human mind whose
final course is so exceedingly capricious? .Such a question is
more than a mere war about words, for its answer implies a
very decided stand on important philosophical principles.

When stripped of philosophical language, men often smile
at the idea of inorganic matter being subject to habitual ten-
dencies. Just dare to remark, with a tone of surprise, in the
presence of your sarcastic friend, that the sun is already up,
and he will arouse a smile on the lips of those about by
drawling out: "Yes, that's a habit he has had for some time."
It seems ridiculous to attribute to the sun a habit of rising, — and
why ? Because we naturally suppose that the subject of a
habit has a certain spontaneity of his own ; that while he has
a tendency to do something, still this tendency is not an inex-
orable law, compelling him to act in the way he does. The
I naive tendency of the human mind is to make a distinction
between beings which are subject to habit and things which
are governed by law. If this nai've tendency can be justified
by sound philosophical principles, then it seems reasonable to
restrict the term habit to those beings which possess a sponta-
neity of their own. If, on the contrary, this naive tendency
cannot be justified, it would be in accordance with modern cus-
itom to drop the term habit altogether. At all events, it would
be necessary to call attention to the fact that habit does not
imply spontaneity, which would then be a mere term to cover
our own ignorance of hidden conditions. Men nowadays ridi-
,cule such expressions as the love of loadstone for iron, because
It implies a spontaneity on the part of loadstone which no one
'dreams of attributing to it. And what a storm of opposition
has been raised against the use of the word faculty in psychol-
ogy, simply because it was supposed to imply a mere mental
fiction — an independent entity with a psychological laboratory
of its own ! If the word habit thus implies a spontaneity which
does not exist, then it too should be relegated to the shades
or used with remarks and foot-notes of caution.

But if there is such a thing as spontaneity, and habit implies
the tendency of a being which possesses this quality, then we
should not say, with Professor James, that " the laws of Nature
are nothing but immutable habits which the different elementary
sorts of matter follow in their actions and reactions upon each

VOL. LXXVIII. — 34

534 7 HE Idea of Habit. ] [Jan.,

other." Nor even should we speak of the nervous system as
the subject of habits> unless we attribute to the matter of
which it is composed the high gift of freedom or spontaneity.
Mere complexity of action is not spontaneity, or else the molecules
of the nervous system would certainly be spontaneous. " Like
all other cells of the body," says Liewellys Barker, " the living
neurones take up food materials into their substance, transform
them, and gradually build them up through a series of synthetic
processes into highly complex and extremely labile chemical
compounds, which, in turn, undergo a series of decomposition
reactions which culminate finally in the formation of more or
less simple bodies, which we recognize as the excretory pro-
ducts of neurone metabolism. There is every reason to believe
that in these various modifications of chemical materials by
means of which the potential energy of food is transformed
into the kinetic energy which gives rise to what are called the
' vital * manifestations of the neurones, chemical compounds
come into existence, in' some of the neurones at least, of a
degree of complexity scarcely approached elsewhere on this
planet, and before the nature of which the most advanced
organic chemist stands utterly powerless and despondent." •
But no matter how complex and labile the molecules of the
neurones may be, the intricate processes of their metabolism do I
not differ in kind from the action of an acid upon an alkali to
form a salt. No degree of complexity would ever justify
us in attributing to the neural molecules the wonderful gift of
spontaneity; for spontaneity is an attribute altogether indepen-
dent of the ignorance, the weakness, the despondency of the
organic chemist. It is probably true that the repeated exercise
of a nervous centre means an increase therein of the processes
of metabolism, and that this means growth, and that increased
growth means a demand for more nourishment, and that if
this demand is not supplied by renewed activity of the centre,
its wasting will give rise to those conscious cravings which we
recognize as the habitual tendencies of the mind. But if there
is any such thing as habit, the subject of habit is not the
material substance of the neurones, for it is governed by the
same kind of law as the simplest inorganic compound. m

Furthermore, as the author just quoted says, "It is by no
means impossible that in the nervous system forms of energy

• Tkt Nervous System, New York, 1S99, p, 217,

The Idea of Habit.

525

»rc concerned which do not exist outside the animal body, and
which yet remain to be recognized and studied."* But if these
forms of energy are governed by inexorable law, they can no more
be the subject of habit than can the energy which is dissipated
in the explosion of a keg of powder. Unless there is in man an
energy whose form of manifestation is not determined from
without but from within, then man is governed by the inexor-
able law of necessity and the word habit is but the guise of
his own ignorance, and the sooner it is discarded the better.

The idea that the subject of a habit must not be governed
by blind necessity, but possess the gift of spontaneity, was
brought out by St. Thomas in his Summa Thcologica. In his
treatment of habits in general f he laid it down as an indis-
pensable condition for the subject of a habit that " it should
be capable of being determined in many ways, and to diverse
things. Whence, if anything were ' in potency ' to another,
but so that it was ' in potency * to that alone, there disposition
and habit would have no place ; for such a subject by its very
nature would have the due tendency (habitudinem) td such an
act." A habit, therefore, according to St. Thomas, is a dispo-
sition by which an energy of itself undetermined is given a
special tendency in some one direction. But if the nervous
system of" man is totally governed by inexorable laws, no
matter how complex the series of reactions which the first sen-
sation may arouse, no matter how many transformations of
energy may be entailed, the final result is as certainly and
surely determined, from the very start, as is the contraction of
the muscles of the iris under the influence of light.

St. Thomas has indeed expressly asked the question %
whether or not the body can be the subject of habits. And as
to habits which have reference to activity, or habits properly so
called, he denies that any habit is primarily in the body as in
a subject. "Every bodily operation," he says, *'is either from
the natural disposition of the body or from the soul moving
the body. As far as those operations which arise from nature
are concerned, the body is not disposed through any habit, for
the natural powers are determined to one course of action ; and
it has been said that an habitual disposition is required where
the subject is ' in potency ' to many things. Those operation.**,
however, which proceed from the soul through the body, pri-

• Op. C, p, 849. \ 1. 2, q. xlix. \S iv. { 1. J, ij. ', J i.

526

The Idea of habit.

warief bdoag to the soal; secondarily, however, to the body.

ons, therefore, to such operations are
m. the aooL They can, however, be in the body
the body is disposed and made ready
obey tile operations of the soul." ^|

therdiDre even, according to St. Thomas, speak
of the Ukics rooted ia our nervous system ; but such a method
of speytiaE wooJd be differeot in its implications from that

modem writings. These suppose
itseli is the subject of habits; that
matenal, and a mould for its
habits more or less in the same
the stamp of the government.
die nervous system is the subject
sense, and by a transferred title.
to govern the activity of the ner-
be no habits to form, for all
«f to-day would have been settled long
of forces and atoms in the vapors and
^ ^ adMns varid. We might see tendencies indeed^
as the arm of a balance has to sink
Rvier weight. A determined force has
ikkt it can possibly have ; consequently
at lacaiving a disposition which gives it any
vMck it did not have before. If we wish
^ ^ ^ a dKwctioa it does not already have, we must
la of «Mlilir force which acts in a different directio
^ ^ MtpV CMabMMttion of forces acting at the prope:
1^ ^Mflift a iaialt>nt which acts in the direction we
^^H^ f% iMif at oar component forces are constant, the
^IMI act vary. When the component forces are very
it ought seem, before their final adjust-
^ ^flMWiL t* Oaa ignorant of the conditions, that one
|^M{^ -ut tjltvaltf^iic * tendency to act in a given direction;
kat ^M^ «%iM ^ ^^ Bktrt illusion of his ignorance. And so, if
^» wDi^ ^ % ^Wlrflt of forces, each determined to act in one
MMK V*!^ *^ MMMmI^ of its own, then it may seem to
,WVvv !)b«^^*^^ tiad»ci»a» but that is only because of our
^^^H^m^ ^ ^||% IHytiad component forces, which external con-
t^kiaa M% ndHMliKiC M M to produce more and more constant
4M4 1(1^ is * mere word to excuse our own ignor-

^r"'

treVI

fl904]

THE Idea of Habit.

527

ance. But if, on the contrary, there is in man any force by
nature undetermined with a spontaneity of its own, then it is
not governed by the laws of mechanics, and It may be possible
for such a force to develop a real tendency to act in one way
rather than another — to receive a psychical disposition. And
the result of this disposition of the undetermined force might
be to adjust the myriad determined forces of the organism, so
that they would act in the line of least resistance to the dis-
position of the undetermined force. And thus, in a secondary
sense, these forces could be said to acquire the habit of acting
in some given direction. And as the organism would grow
older and less plastic, it would be harder and harder for the,
undetermined force to mould it in any new direction ; and thus
also the dispositions of such a force would themselves become
more and more fixed and stable.

Such a manner of looking upon habit seems to free us
from the necessity of mystic speculations about the fundamen-
tal and occult properties of matter ; and at the same time, it
makes it just as easy to interpret all the facts which physio-
logical investigation has so far brought to light. In fact, it
seems to let us out of one great diflficulty, " Nothing is easier,"
says James, " than to imagine how, when a current has traversed
a path, it should traverse it more readily still a second time.
But what made it ever traverse it the first time ? [We cannot
say the will, for, though many, perhaps most, human habits
were once voluntary actions, no action, as we shall see in a
later chapter, can be primarily such. While an habitual action
may once have been voluntary, the voluntary action must
before that, at least once, have been impulsive or reflex. It is
this very first occurrence of all that we consider in the text.]*

In answering this question we can only fall back on our
general conception of a nervous system as a mass of matter,
whose parts, constantly kept in states of different tension, are
as constantly tending to equalize their states. The equalization
between any two points occurs through whatever path may at
the moment be most pervious. But, as a given point of the
system may belong, actually or potentially, to many different
paths, and as the play of nutrition is subject to accidental
changes, blocks may from time to time occur and make cur-
rents shoot through unwonted lines. Such an unwonted line

* The words in brackels are given as a foot-note.

538 The Idea of Habit. [Jan.,

would be a new created path, which, if traversed repeatedly,
would become the beginning of a new reflex arc. All this is
vague to the last degree, and amounts to little more than say-
ing that a new path may be formed by the sort of chances
that in nervous material are likely to occur. But vague as it
is it is really the last word of our wisdom in the matter.*

To refer a phenomenon to chance or accidental changes is
merely to own that we do not know how to explain it at all.
And so long as we try to explain habit on a merely neural
basis, it will be impossible for us to clear up the difficulties
which surround the origin of habits. That a volitional expla- '
nation of habit is free from difficulty, no one will make any
pretence to claim. In fact, there are many who agree with M.
Dumont in his attempt to explain will by means of habit,
rather than habit by means of will. " The idea of the end C,"
says M. Dumont, "awakens the idea of the act A; the act A,
if it has sufficient force, becomes the cause of the execution of
the act itself, A ; the act A becomes the point of departure of
a series of intermediate events independent of ourselves, and of
which the realization of C is the final result. All this depends
on habits — habits of association between certain ideas bound
together by constant relations of succession or of co-existence,
and habits of adaptation between the ideas and the acts of which
they are the representation. . . . From this point of view
the will is always a fact of habit; it is never anything but
the exercise of habits previously acquired." f

It is not the purpose of this article to inquire into the
mjrits of either of these two ideas of habit; but it may not
be out of place to remark that whenever there is a question of
the practical principles which underlie the formation of habits,
the assumption seemi to be that the will forms new habits,
rather than that habits are necessary for the exercise of the
will. Professor James tells us that "in the acquisition of a
new habit, or the leaving off of an old one, we must take care
to launch ourselves with as strong and decided an initiative as
possible** ; that you must "never suffer an exception to occur till
the new habit is securely rooted in your life" and that you must
** seise the first possible opportunity to act on every resolution you
make, and on every emotional prompting you may experience in

* Prim if It i «/ Psy<Mogy. vol. i. ch. iv. p. 109.
t /fevut Pkiioiofki^mi, 1S76, i. p. 331.

I904.]

THE Idea of Habit.

529

the direction of the habits you aspire to gain.'' These rules, and
all rules for the formation of habits drawn from practical
experience, will imply that the individual has initiative and
spontaneity of his own, that he is not determined entirely from
without, or by the accidental conditions of his nervous centres,
but in great measure by the activity of his own free will.
When philosophers realize that there are physical forces whose
activity has not yet been studied, that the mental world has
its facts as well as the physical, that we cannot presume that
the determinism of the world that is seen must apply also to
the mind that sees, perhaps then they will come to some
agreement concerning the nature of habit. But in the mean-
time let those who reject the idea of personal spontaneity and free-
dom look upon habit as one of the many fictions of the human
mind. Let them discard the term with its implication of a
philosophy they condemn, and speak rather of the adjustment
of mental forces in relation to their environment, or use some
terminology in accordance with the meaning they wish to
convey.

LITERATURE.

J. R. Angell : Habit and AttenHon, Psychol. Rev., 1898, v., 179-183.
J. H. Bair : Tkt Practice Curve. Dissertation Columbia Univ., 1902.
James Mark Baldwin : Mental Development in the Child and the Race,

Methods and Processes. New York, 1895, ch. vi. $ 9; ch. vii. ^ 5; ch.

viii. 5 4 ; ch. xvi.
Maine de Biran : In^uence de V habitude, sur la faculte de penser. PariSf

184].
Bernardus Boedder, S.J.: Psychologia Rationatis. Friburg, 1894, liber i,,

caput v., art. 2.
H. Jaymyn Brooks: The Elements of Mind. New York, 1902, ch. vlii.

Habits and Reflex Acts, pp. 158-173.
Bryom and Hartcs: Studies on the Telegraphic Language; the Acquisition

of a Hierarchy of Habits. Psychol. Rev., 1899, vi., 345-375.
William B. Carpenter: Principles of Mental Physiology. New York, 1874,

ch. viii. Of Habit, pp. 337-375.
H. Cornelius: Das Gesets der Obung. Viertelsjahrschrift f. wiss Philos.

1895, XX., pp. 45-54-
L^onDumont: De T habitude. Revue Philosophique, 1876, i., pp. 32r-366.
Louis Ferri: La psychologic de Passociation. Paris, 1883, pt. iii., ch. iii.
William James: The Principles of Psychology. Vol. L, ch. iv. Habit,

pp. 104-127.
Albert Lemoine : V habitude e T instinct, (Quoted by Dumont.)

530

The Idea of Habit.

[Jan.

Michael Maher, S.J.: Psychology. London, 1900, pp. jSSff.

C. Lloyd Morgan: Comparative Psychology, London, 1902, ch. xi. Ah-

tomatism and Control, pp. 173-196.
Jos. John Murphy; Habit and Intelligence in their Connection with the

Larvs of Matter and Forte. Lon<lon, 1869, 2 vols. 8vo.
Paul Radestock : Habit and its Importance in Education. Translated by

F. A. Caspari. Boston, 1886.

F. Ravaisson: De P habitude. 8vo, 1838. (Quoted by Dumont.)

Gustav Rumelin: Reden und Aufsatse, Ncue Folgc, 1881. Rcdcn 6
Ueber das Wesen der Gewohnheit, pp. 149-175.

G. F. Stout: Manual of Psychology. Bk. I,, ch. ii., 4 11-12.

James Sully: The Human Mind, Vol. II., London, 1892, pp. 224-233.

Outlines of Psychology. New York, 1885, pp. 616-622.

Si. Thomas Aquinas: Summa Theologica. i. 2. Questiones xlix.-Hv.

R. W. Trine : Unsere Gewdhnkeiten. Neue mctaph. Rundschau, 1900,
iii., 194-198.

Ragnar Vogt : Ober Ablenkbarkeit und Gewohnungsfdhigkeit. Psycholo-
gische Arbeiten herausgcgcbcn von Emil Kraepelin. Leipzig, 1901, pp.
62-201 .

Wilhelm Wundt: Lectures on Human and Animal Psychology. Trans-
lated by Creighton and Titchencr. New York, 1894. Lectures xxvi.-
xxvii., pp. 381-410.

GrundsSge der Physiohgischen Psychologie. sth ed., vol. iii., Leipzig,
1903, ch. xvii., 2, pp. 258-284.

^ ^ IDiews anb IReviews* ^ <^

THE BEGINNIITGS OF
CHRISTIANITY.
By Dr. Shahan.

Dr. Shahan, of the Catholic Uni-
versity, is not mistaken in his opin-
ion that "there are not wanting
reasons of a modern and immediate
nature which make it useful and
consoling to reflect on the earliest history of the church."*
" Useful " indeed, because in these our days, more than ever
before, men are harking back to primitive Christianity as a
solution of the dread question "What is religion?" Granting,
as all men must» that the revelation of God to man made by
Jesus Christ is, not to say the absolute and final, at least the
supremest revelation yet vouchsafed us, the problem remained,
What essentially is this revelation, what is Christianity? And
the answer to that question, it is likewise generally conceded,
can come only from history. Dogmatics is now become mostly
the study of the history of dogma ; biblical theology is con-
cerning itself chiefly with the historical interpretation of the
inspired Text; apologetic is almost nothing more than an
attempt to unfold the "development" idea, a task which pre-
sumes an historical knowledge of the origins of doctrine : for
all these reasons, history, the quondam stepdaughter among the
sacred sciences, has recently become what it has long been
among the profane sciences^ — magistra et domina.

So, as we started to say, any historical light which may be
thrown upon early Christianity cannot but be^to use again
the modest word of the author of the book in hand — " useful."
And "consoling" too, for if there be any comfortable retreat
from a multitude of harassing intellectual religious "problems,"
if there be, after the practice of religion itself, any consolation
to a spirit that is weary with many questions, surely that refuge
for the soul and balm to the heart are to be sought in an excur-
sion away from the vexations of the present, back to the days
when Christianity was young, and fresh, and strong in the

Bn' of her youth.
^e have never met, either by personal contact or through
■
:
:

• Tkt Btginnings of Christianity. By Very Rev. Thoreat J, Shahan, S.T.D.. J.U.L..
Dfcssor of Church History in the Catholic Univeriiiy. Wfc&hington. New York : Benxiger
then.

532 VIEWS AND REVIEWS. [Jan.,

the medium of the written page, any one who can conduct such
an excursion back to Christian antiquity better than Dr. Shahan.
He has many of the gifts proper to a professor of history, but
none more attractive than the power to reproduce, by means of
the historical imagination, the atmosphere of epochs that are
past, the setting of scenes that have been changed.

And this, his chief gift, is most patent in his volume of
essays on The Beginnings of Christianity. Presiding over all
the array of facts, or rather infusing them, vivifying them, is
a delightful spirit of sympathy with the days of which he
writes. The effect of rendering the past near and palpable is
not wrought by any mere elaboration of style, any deliberate
word-painting, but by a habit, long since acquired, of clothing
the bare data of the books and the monuments with " sense "
and an appreciation that are possible only to the ripened
scholar.

We dare not begin to quote extracts from these essays in
proof of the justice of the praise we give them. But if we
know anything of the power of genuine scholarliness, or of the
graces and beauties of literary composition, we are safe in
leaving the justification to the reader of such essays as those
on "St. Paul," or "St. Agnes," or "The Church and the
Empire," or the abundantly learned and sometimes rather start-
ling monograph on " Woman in Pagan Antiquity."

In all, Dr. Shahan has grouped some fourteen or fifteen
essays in this volume, all having to do with the early period
of Church History, and all more or less united by subject-
matter and by spirit of treatment.

We await the day when the professor of Church History in
the Catholic University will give us not a series of essays but
sustained historical narrative of Early Church History.

The second volume of Dr. Bar-

EARLT CHRISTIAN denhewer's great work on early

LITERATURE. Christian literature • possesses the

By Dr. Bardenhewer. eminent qualities for which the

Munich savant has for years been
celebrated. An exhaustive knowledge of his sources, a wide
acquaintance with modern critical history, a notably conserva-

*G*schichte der Altkirchtichen Literatur. Von Otto Bardenhewer. ZwdterBand: vom
Ende des Zweiten Jahrhunderts bis rum Beginn des Vierten Jahrhunderts. Freiburg im
Breisgau : Herdersche Verlagshandlung,

ViEivs AND Reviews.

tive temperament, and uncompromising Catholic convictions are
sure to be conspicuous in every work he publishes. His critics
have charged him with ecclesiastical and theological preoccu-
pations ; and to some extent they are right. It is impossi-
ble for a man so thoroughly penetrated with the conviction
that Patrology is ex radice a Catholic science, and whose
historical imagination is so taken up with the idea of the church
as the unified and permanent body of believers which gives
coherence to Christian history, — it is impossible, we say, for such
a man not at times to build his critical theories upon the
framework of his prepossessions. This is to offend the critics
who profess to be isolated from such attachments, it is true,
but to offend them in such a manner may by no means be
unwarranted or wrong, Very often to write sound history
requires enthusiasm as well as sagacity ; and many a great
institution has been inadequately estimated because the mind
which has studied it has viewed it from the cold distance of
bloodless criticism, and has never beheld it in the vivid prox-
imity of personal interest and beneath the warm sunlight of
sympathy.

In the period covered by this volume — from the end of
the second to the beginning of the fourth century— Dr. Bar-
denhewer has to discuss some of the very greatest names in
the history of the early church. Clement of Alexandria, Ori-
gen, Tertullian, Cyprian, Hippolytus, move through this mighty
epoch, which is so truly magna parens viruni. Each writer is
given a brief biographical notice; and is then studied from the
point of view of Christian literature, history, and dogma.
Every dispute which divides the learned concerning patrologi-
cal criticism is noticed at least, and some are investigated with a
good deal of detail. We regret that Dr. Bardenhewer did not
give a page or two to Dom Chapman's recent articles in the
Revue Binedictiney on the alleged interpolations in St. Cyprian's
De Unitate Ecclesice. Our author refers to the discussion, but
gives us no definite account or estimate of it. We would wish,
too, for a somewhat fuller treatment of St. Cyprian's contro-
versy with Pope Stephen. Likewise some important questions
associated with the names of Origen and Hippolytus are rather
summarily dealt with, in our judgment. For although to enter
thoroughly into such controverted or obscure problems would
lengthen the work considerably, we think that the scheme pro-

534

Vtei^s and reviews.

[Jan.,

jected by Dr. Bardenhewer in this history demands and justi-
fies volumtnousness. But notwithstanding all criticisms, this is
a great achievement, one of the greatest that stands to the
credit of Catholic scholarship in recent years. No thorough
student of early Christianity can do without it, and no library
which pretends to be of benefit to serious students can over-
look it. This volume, like its predecessor, is in Herder's finest
style, which means that it is a joy to the eyes of whoever
loves beautiful books.

Perhaps the obscurest and briefest

MYSTERIES OF IQTHRA. chapter in the history of religions

By T. J. McCormack. js that which concerns Mithraism.*

It is extremely rare to meet, even
anaong scholars, with any conscious advertence to the magni-
tude of the danger that once beset the church, in the exist-
ence of a rival for the allegiance of the religious world. But
the contestants in this gigantic duel were from the Orient, the
scene of their struggle was the Occident, the battle was fought
quietly but fiercely, hand-to-hand, tooth- and-nail, and the
•ttkc was the world. The relics of this warfare are scattered
thick all over the Continent of Europe and of North Africa;
to the vttnquished, religion has left the monuments of its defeat
upon the soil of every land from Scotland to Numidia, and
from Portugal to Cappadocia.

The fact that the details of this mortal duel of giants con-
cern u» so little is only proof of the completeness of the victory
of Christianity, not of the insignificance of the strength of
Mhhraism.

ICverybody knows, that in the beginning of the decline of
iho Empire many weird and fantastic forms of worship glided
V^oatWArd and insinuated themselves into the place of the effete
hlitlatries of Rome, but the knowledge is not so general that
MHion^' these Oriental superstitions there was one that rose
nhcrve the rank of its companions, almost vindicated for itself
thn name of a religion, and so developed its doctrine of sin
himI reileiTiption and expiation, and, whether by independent
luili*ilivc or by conscious imitation, so perfected its resem-
blinoe with the true religion as to deceive a multitude who
ntttfht clue have been of the elect, and to make it seem, to

• Vk* M*tUritt 0/ Mithra. By Fr.inr Cumont. Translated by TJ>omas J. McConnack.
(Ililimil)! I TIte Ojieii dmrl.

I 1904-]

Views and Reviews.

535

eyes unenlightened by the vision of an overruling Providence,
that the fate of the religion of Christ was hanging in the bal-
ance, and that there was every possibility of the domination of
the transplanted and transformed religion of Persia over the
pure doctrine and practice of that emerged from Palestine.

Back of the Franian invader was the prestige of a mighty
conquest. Asia, from the Indus to the Euxine, had been solidly
assured to Mithraism before it stepped upon the soil of Europe.
Then in its triumphal progress, shaking oflF whatever proved an
encumbrance, putting on whatever seemed a help, it swept
mightily in the track of the Roman armies, received nowhere
a more unhesitating welcome than in Rome, and finally
ensconced itself in the chair of Empire, deified and incarnate
in the persons perhaps of Nero, and surely of Aurelian, Dio-
cletian, and Julian the Apostate.

In essence this mighty contestant for the universal see of
religion was idolatrous, but its idolatry was of the highest and
purest as well as the simplest ever conceived: the worship of
nature apotheosized and especially typified in all its powers by
the sun. Beyond this Mithraism was a system of dualism —
another source of strength among the people; its peculiar hero,
rather than its primary god, was Mtthra, the Hercules of the
Orient, who took upon himself the burdens of his votaries,
fought for them the battle against the enemy of mankind, and
vicariously attributed his victories to those who should call his
name.

From Christianity the cult of Mithra borrowed, in all proba-
bility, its many resemblances with the true worship. "The
sectaries of the Persian God, like the Christians, purified them-
selves by baptism ; received, by a species of confirmation, the
power necessary to combat the spirits of evil, and expected
from a Lord's Supper salvation of body and soul. Like the
Christians, they held Sunday sacred and celebrated the birth
of their god on the 25th of December; they both preached a
categorical system of ethics, regarded asceticism as meritorious,
and counted among their principal virtues abstinence and con-
tinence, renunciation and self-control. Their conceptions of the
world and of the destiny of man were similar; they both
placed a flood at the beginning of history, they both assigned
as the source of their traditions a primitive revelation ; they
both, finally, believed in the immortality of the soul, in a last

536 V/EIVS AND REVIEWS. [Jan.,

judgment, and in a resurrection of the dead " (Cumont, p. 190-
191).

We are not surprised, then, that a religion such as this —
a vast synthesis of everything that made for success in its con-
temporary reIigio;is — should dispute half successfully with its
chief rival, Christianity. That it should be worsted and fall
away was, of course, inevitable; but the story of its struggle,
it is not too much to say with the advertisement of the pub>
Ushers, is of "fascinating interest." It is told eloquently by
Dr. Cumont, now famous for his erudition on this subject.
This short volume is the gist of the conclusions of the studies
accounted for in his classic work on Texts and Monuments
relative to the Mysteries of Mithra. No one who reads his-
tory, or who studies religion, can afford to remain in ignorance
of Dr. Cumont's conclusions.

Professor Paul Lobstein's attack*

THE VIRGIN-BIRTH. upon the Virgin-birth of Christ

By Lobstein. is very far indeed from being of

decisive value, even from a purely
critical and non-dogmatic point of view. We can imagine no
scholarly and open-minded reader being moved in the least by
this essay, who has ever read the Kindheitsevangelium of Pro-
fessor Resch, or the essays on the same subject by Canon Gore,
Professor Sanday, P^re Lagrange, and Pere Rose. All through
evangelical and early Christian history belief in the Virgin-
birth is in possession, and it takes more than the conjectures
of textual criticism to offset it. St. Matthew's and St. Luke's
account points indisputably to a tradition as old as the Saviour's
religion itself. And merely on negative grounds, and through
arguments ex silentio, that tradition is not overturned. If
Mark has not the history of the Annunciation and the vir-
ginal Incarnation, it is because his narrative, as is expressly
stated in the beginning, is concerned with the Evangelittm
of the Saviour, his message, his word, not with a detailed his-
tory of his life. Neither does John mention the virgin-birth,
but we think that honest criticism must recognize the doctrine
as interwoven into the very substance of his prologue. In fact,
taking into consideration the fact that St. John had the synop-

• Tht Virgin-Bitth of Christ. By Paul Lobstein. Translated into English by Victor
Lculiette; with an Introduction by Rev. W. D. Morrison. London: Williams & Norgate;
New York : G. P. Putnam's Sons.

I904.]

VIEWS AND REVIEW'S.

537

tic narrative before his eyes, we must declare that the intro-
duction to his gospel would be inexplicable if he disbelieved
Matthew and Luke. The Joannine tradition is very well
expressed in the second-century reading of I~I3, which refers
the wordsj " born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh,
nor of the will of man, but of God," to the I'erdum, the
Word, concerning whom the whole prologue is occupied.

Professor Lobstein places an immense importance upon the
facts that Mary was perplexed at the words of her Son at the
finding in the Temple, and that our Lord's relatives did not
believe in him. This, he says, would be impossible if the
Annunciation had taken place. Not at all. Mary's wonder^
and her pondering in her heart what Jesus had said, far from
indicating that she recognized no divine character in the Child,
imply distinctly that she did. Her attitude conveys more of
the impression of respect and veneration than of plenary paren-
tal authority. And as for our Lord's relatives, it is possible —
it is, we think, even likely, that they then did not know of
the virginal birth of Jesus. It was too sacred a mystery to be
matter for common knowledge. But even if they be presumed
to have been acquainted with it, their disbelief would be np
more difficult to explain than their disbelief in the face of the
miracles wrought by our Lord. Shall we say that the scepti-
cism of these kinsmen of Christ proves that he wrought no
miracles? Not even rationalistic criticism would go so far.
A pari then, their scepticism does not demonstrate that they
knew nothing of a virgin-birth.

The case, then, is this: Two of our gospels have an his-*
torical statement of the miraculous and virginal birth. One of
these gospels is written by St. Luke, that cultivated and acute
observer, who assures us in his prologue that he has critically
examined the sources of his history. St. John and St. Paul
not only say nothing against this tradition, which most cer-
tainly they knew, but they positively imply it in their lan-
guage concerning Christ. Add to this the church's belief from
the beginning, the condemnation of Ebionitism in the first
century, and the analogy of Christian theology which requires
the doctrine, and we have an overwhelming testimony that
belief in the virgin-birth goes back to the very first disciples,
and can never be excluded from a sound, critical, and histori-
cal Christology. Professor Lobstein does not give the weight

538 Views and Reviews. [Jan.,

to the traditional arguments which a perfectly candid study
would require, and he pushes weak arguments for his own
side to an extent which no critical student can approve.

Father Chandlery's book* on Rome

PILGRIM WALKS IN ROME, will be useful as a guide-book for

By Rev. P. J. Chandlery. tourists in the Eternal City, and

interesting to all who must forego
the delights of travel, but would learn something of the marvel-
lous Urbs alma, which is the heart of Catholicity. The book
is very full of topographical detail, rich in history and legend,
and, it need not be said, devoutly Catholic in spirit. Its great
value is enhanced by many splendid illustrations. As the pro-
ceeds of its sale are to be given to the Zambesi mission, we
trust that its readers will number thousands.

The latest work brought out in

PHILIPPE DE COMMYNES. the valuable collection of original

By B. de Mandrot. historical texts published by the

house of Picard is the chronicle
of Philippe de Commynes,f the chamberlain of Louis XI.
Commynes was a statesman who rose to high favor under
Louis, but in 1484, under Charles VIII., was driven from court,
disgraced and Impoverished, and from 1487 to 1490 was
imprisoned as a rebellious subject. Becoming reconciled to
Charles, he accompanied this monarch in his memorable expedi-
tion to Italy, and was sent as royal ambassador to Venice.
From Venice he went to Florence, and there visited Savonarola,
whom he describes in the eighth book of his M^moires as
"demourant en ung convent reffomU, hotnme de saincte vie."
Under Louis XII. Commynes again incurred the royal dis-
pleasure, but was once more rehabilitated, made another
journey to Italy in 1507, and died in 15 11.

The M^moires cover the period between 1464 and 1498.
They are full of interest, have a strong personal note about
them, and give an observant statesman's view of men and
countries in those eventful days.

Commynes has been charged, and justly, with several

»Pi^rim Walks in Rome. A Guide to Its Holy Places. By P. J. Chandlery, S.J. New
York : The Messenger Press.

t Mimoires dt Philippe de Commynes. Nouvelle £dition Publi^e avec une Introduction et
des Notes. Par B. de Mandrot. Paris : Alphonse Picard.

ViEivs AND Reviews.

539

historical inaccuracies; but those imperfections do not very
seriously diminish the general value of his work, which must
ever possess conspicuous merit for the student of historical
sources. M. Mandrot's introduction — biographical and critical —
^is a commendable piece of work.

Pere Lagrange's study of the Book

THE BOOK OF JUDGES, of Judges* is a splendid specimen

By Pare Lagrange. of the modern critical method of

Biblical research. If any of our
readers are looking for a good way of ascertaining the present
status of Scripture study among learned Catholic critics, we
recommend Pere Lagrange's La Mcthode Histotique, and this
present translation of and commentary upon Judges. The for-
mer little treatise will give the principles of criticism, and the
volume under review will show how they are applied. To have
mastered both books is to have acquired a grasp upon present-
■^day thought in the field of religious study that hardiy any
other two Catholic works will give. This at least will result
from reading them, that one will gain a fairly adequate notion
of the illimitable extent of modern Biblical study ; will learn to
reverence the patient scholars who are bearing the burden and
the heat of the day therein; and will long for a more respec-
table participation in it by Catholics who are both true to
faith and devoted to honest scholarship.

With fiudde, Moore, Mgr. Kaulen, and the Jesuit Hummel-
auer, Pere Lagrange holds it certain that Judges cannot be
the work of one author. There is an artificial unity of con-
ception in the various histories that comprise the main body
of the book : they all are constructed on a similar framework
{caJr/), but the evidence for a plurality of documents worked
upon by several editors is overwhelming. In connection with
this, P. Lagrange humorously refers to good Father Vigouroux's
assertion that only "rationalists" deny unity of authorship in
Judges. The learned Dominican is entirely content to be
numbered among such rationalists. The Deuteronomy- redac-
tor (RD) is, P. Lagrange thinks, the main hand in the editing
of Judges; though he admits that the Hexateuchal, Je-
hovistic, and Elohistic writers are plainly discernible also.
Thus we should have four sources for our present book of

*Le Livrtdes Jiigts, Par R. P. Lngranffe, O.P. Paris: V. Lecoffre.
VOL. LXXVIII. — 35

S40

Views and Reviews.

[Jan..

Judges: the Jehovistic, which has for its general tendency to
give the history of the wars of Jehovah; the Elohislic,
which aims at constructing a reh'gicus chronicle of the Jews;
then the editor who combined these two ; and finally the re-
dactor who threw the substance of the book into its present
form. In the convenient abbreviations customary with critical
scholars, these sources are designated J, E, RJ^, and RD.

As to the exact time when the final redaction was made,
it must be obvious to every one that we cannot come to
a perfectly safe conclusion. It was certainly after the time of
Josias, for only then did Deuteronomy begin to have a deci-
sive literary influence ; and, as we have seen, the Deuteronomist
redactor is the chief factor in Judges. Perhaps we shall have
to assign even so late a date as the time of Esdras. But
whenever the work of compiling, adjusting, and editing took
place, the primitive documents are unquestionably of great
antiquity.

The historical value of Judges, as indeed of all the earlier
Old -Testament books, leads into questions too delicate for dis-
cussion in a review like this. Suffice it to say that the rigidly
accurate method of stating facts is not an Oriental and an-
cient, but an Occidental and modern, conception of the func-
tion of history. To understand the principles that underlie
the interpretation of Old-Testament history, one should have
read some such treatises as Loisy's £tudes Bibliques, or the
already mentioned La Methode Historiques. Probably it is pre-
cisely here, in estimating the historical value of many of the
incidents in Judges, that Pere Lagrange will encounter some
adverse criticism. There is an apparent uneasiness and a lack
of downright statement in regard to this matter, which suggest
that our author is not speaking out his entire mind. He is
not to be blamed in the least for this. As just remarked,
one's statements have to be so guarded in dealing with Old-
Testament historicity, one has to explain so fully one's idea of
inspiration in order not to be misunderstood, that when there
js no opportunity for such an extended preliminary apologia,
prudence points out the path of caution in phraseology and
of a rather vague generality in expression.

P. Lagrange declares in his preface that this volume is but
the first of a long series of commentaries that will cover the
entire field of Scripture. We congratulate him on so fine a

1904]

Views and reviews.

541

beginning of that immense labor, and trust that he may be
assisted in it by coadjutors as erudite as himself, and be spared
to see the great project completed.

THE CHRIST STORY.
By E. M. Tappan.

It is a rare non- Catholic devo-
tional book that can please a
Catholic. Our standards are exact,
and we feel in conscience bound
to insist upon them. And yet we despair of making our
demands understood by the non- Catholic. If we insist, for
instance, upon the introduction of doctrine into a life of Christ,
they feel, and we cannot blame them, that we are narrow, and
fonder of dogma than of religion. And though we know their
suspicions are ill-founded, we cannot explain our position^ — it
means going back too far — so we give it up, and bear the un-
just imputation as patiently as we can. And so in the present
case: we must say that this life of Christ,* written for chil-
dren, though it is in very truth a beautiful piece of work, full
of genuine religious sentiment, devout in the extreme; though
it is almost all that is good, yet it cannot satisfy us. Not
that we have not been edified in reading it, for in places it
has brought the tears to our eyes, but it has left a longing
unsatisfied — ^a longing to know what they have done with
our Lord, *' where they have laid Him," what they think of
Him, ** whose Son is He ? " and what are we to make of the
most significant and most mysterious of His deeds, to say the
least — the " Last Supper " ? We cannot be satisfied to have
these things passed over, for they are the heart and marrow
of our devotion, not the skeleton of our faith. If our funda-
mental interpretation of the Divine Master be at fault, then we
are sick at heart and can take no interest in the sweet things
that are said of Him ; if the " Last Supper " be not the Holy
Eucharist, Himself, then the Light has gone out of our lives,
the Light in which we saw all things ; and now we can see
nothing. These were the chapters we wanted to linger over,
and behold there is nothing in them to feed our devotion.
And we close the book with a sigh, and the perpetual wonder
grows until it becomes almost appalling — how can they love
Him without knowing Him, and how can they write so touch-
ingly of Him, and yet misinterpret Him ? And we cannot bear

• Tkt Chrhl Slory, By Eva M;ircli Tappan. Boston ; Iloughtun, Mifflin \ Co.

542 Vi£ws AND Reviews. [Jan.,

that even the children should begin with a mistake, and we
dare not recommend the book to them, though it is brimming
with piety, and full of respect and dignity.

As usual, the current month brings
FAIRY BOOK. us a new book from Mr. Andrew

By A. Lang. Lang.* This time it is not a vol-

ume dealing with primitive forms
of society, nor a historical narrative, but something that will
give great joy to the readers of fairy books. The children
have learned to appreciate Mr. Lang heartily, in the Blue and
the Red and the Green and the Yellow and the Pink and the
Gray and the Violet books. Now they are to have another
treat in the Crimson Fairy Book. To those acquainted with
the preceding volumes of the series, we need say no more I
than that this new volume should find a place beside the
others. To the possible few unacquainted with the Lang Fairy
Book Series, we have this to say : Get at least this new vol-
ume right away. It is beautifully bound, exquisitely illustrated,
and written in language sure to please critics, whether of the
nursery or of the editorial den. Now that holidays are at
hand, parents and friends will have an answer to that puzzling
question: What would the children like? Yes, and Mrs. Lang
and Miss Lang must be thanked for it too ; for it seems that
they do most of the work on the fairy books, credited to the
head of the family.

The Memoirs of a Child i is an

UEMOIRS OF A CHILD, extremely clever little book. It

By A. S. Winston. seeks to recall the mental and

emotional states of childhood as
one after another life's experiences engaged its conscious
attention. How we felt when alone with nature, when playing
with companions, when telling a " story," when receiving punish-
ment, when reciting in school before older children, when J
reading books, and building air-castles; how faint Is our recol-
lection of just how we did feel at such times, and how very
hard to reconstruct anything definite out of the haze of memory I
These little sketches make these long-gone feelings live again.

• Tht Critnton Fairy Book. Edited by Andrew Lang. With eight colored plates and
numerous illustrations by H. J. Ford. New York, London, and Bombay: Longtn.ins. Green
ft Co.

\ Mtmoirs of a CMd, By Annie Steger Winston. New York : Longmans, Green & Co.

1904-]

Views and Reviews.

543

They acutely analyze, naively present, and exquisitely describe
them. The style is charming. There is a mystery and a
mysticism about it which is the very fairy-wand needed to
make our wonder-days return. Poetry and sentiment and
pathos are subtly hidden in every chapter, and no one can lay
the book aside without feeling somewhat of the spell which the
deep regions of childhood always cast upon the pathway of
maturer life.

Several funeral sermons preached
FUNERAL SERMONS. by Father Gallwey have been
By Father Gallwey, gathered into a very neat volume.*

The title-page gives the information
that the book is in its second edi,tion, which fact certainly
testifies eloquently to the poiver of Father Gallwey's name.
For funeral-sermon collections rarely find so many readers ; and
these particular funeral sermons possess, in our judgment, hardly
any interest except for the friends of those departed in whose
memory they were delivered.

SHORT SERMONS.
By Rev. L. P. Gravel.

Father Gravel's preface to these
two volumes f of sermons gives
warning that the work is not
intended " for theologians nor
scholars." Perhaps, therefore, we ought not to point out some
offences against sound theology and common knowledge of
which the reverend author is guilty. But as the books were
sent us for review, we cannot in reading them altogether
divest ourselves of what little theology we know, or of the
prejudice that a work may be eminently fit for plain people
and at the same time correct in statements of positive fact.
Moreover a conscientious reviewer must tell the truth about a
book, and in the present instance truth calls for a modicum of
theology and a few grains of scholarship.

This is a startling addition to sacramental theology; "(The
sign of the cross) gives to the sacraments their perfection."
No less novel is the neighboring assertion : " The priest in the
Consecration of the bread and wine . always makes

use of the sign of the Cross." Not in the Latin rite, learned

* Sahag9fnm the Wreck. By Father Gallwey. S.J. New York: Bcnziger Brothers.

t Oh* HuKdrtd Short Strwions for tht Ptople on the Apoitits' Crttd. By Rev. L. P. Gravel.

Npw Vnrlc : Congress Piihlisliing Company.

544 VIEIVS AND REV/EiVS. [Jan.,

father. Neither is this glorification of the sign of the cross
justified by these words of St, Cyprian which seem to have
deluded our author: *' We glory in the cross of our Saviour;
from it is derived the virtue of the Sacraments." A vastly
different thing from the statement that the sign of the cross
"gives to the Sacraments their perfection." The following
Biblical information seems to contradict Pope Stephen's
decree: Let there be no innovations: "Our reason will easily
recognize that the Holy Books . . . are authentic; because
we can prove it by this, the testimony of the Jews and the
martyrdom of the early Christians who suffered cruel deaths
for their belief, and also because these Books bear in themselves
the names of their authors, the dates at zvhich they were written
— and all these matters defy historical criticisms." The italics
are our own — we trust, not an unjustifiable liberty in the
premises. Father Gravel will pardon us if we suggest that he
holds an extreme opinion on the Apostles' Creed, when he
maintains that "it was only on the permission of Gregory the
Great that it was put into writing." Speaking further of the
Apostles' Creed, our author is correct, we hope, in declaring :
" The faithful recite it daily in their morning and evening
prayers." But surely he is unliturgical when he continues :
" On the Lord's Day, during the august Sacrifice of the New
Law, it is sung." When these sermons reach their next edition,
a fortune we heartily wish them, it would be well to avert the
cavils of any censorious psychologist, by changing the following
passage, which is intended as a proof of the Trinity: "A man
possesses wisdom. By wisdom we understand genius, memory,
intelligence. Do we recognize or acknowledge several wisdoms
in the same man ? If, then, a person possesses three faculties
in the one attribute, wisdom, we cannot consistently hesitate
and deny that three persons can exist in the essence of the
Godhead. . . . Thus genius discovers truths, memory keeps
them, and intelligence understands them." The prejudices of
over-sensitive theologians too had better be benignantly regarded
to the extent of removing the contradiction in these two pas-
sages: "He (Christ) possesses the essential faculties of the
human soul. . . For if a single one of them were missing,

the work of our Redemption would have been incomplete.
I say more, the work of our Redemption would have
been impossible." Yet seven pages further on: "Assuredly,

I904.]

Views and Revieivs.

545

brethren, God could save all men by a single word. . .

From the multitude of other means which He could have
chosen, He selected the Incarnation." Finally we know not
what poor fellow, neither theologian nor scholar, but some plain
" man in the street," may, from an abyss of bewilderment, cry
out for light upon this : " Since it is true that the word of
God took human nature, 1 must say that He possesses the
essential faculties of the human soul, exclusive of the divinity."
But here we must stop. We have penetrated only through
two-thirds of the first volume, but our space is exhausted and,
let us confess it, our soul is tired. We hope that Father
Gravel's work will do a great deal of good.

BRET HARTE.
By. H. W. Boynton.

The purpose of this series,* accord-
ing to the publishers, is to provide
brief but comprehensive sketches,
biographical and critical, of living
writers, and of those who, though dead, may still properly be
regarded as belonging to our time.

It is surely desirable to have a critical and unprejudiced
estimate of living authors, particularly when the fame of many
of thetn is the result merely of exaggerated and inflated adver-
tisements, Yet we must remember that such an estimate can-
not be final, and history will ever take its own good time in
bringing forth its own verdict. To satisfy the ambition of
knowing something with regard to such a verdict and to meet
present-day interest, this series is published.

Much however, with propriety, may be said regarding a
final estimate of the subject of the present volume — Bret Harte.
Although one year has not passed since his death, the best of
Harte's life and work, as the author says, was lived and done
a generation ago. The biography which appeared immediately
after his death Mr. Boynton calls " perfunctory and fulsome."

The present work is divided into studies of Bret Harte's
life, personality, and work.

Francis Bret Harte was born at Albany, N. Y., in the year
1839. He received only four or five years of common-school
nstruction.

After his father's death he journeyed with his mother in

* Conttmfiontry Mti* of Litters Serits. Edited liy William i\spenwall Bradley. Bret Harte.
By Henry W. Boynton. .\cw York : McClurt-, Philips & Co.

546 VIEIVS AND REVIEWS. [Jan.,

1854, by way of the Isthmus, to California. He was of a most
impressionable nature, and could quickly assimilate the elements
and characteristics of the life about him. He became a school-
teacher; then a miner, a tax-collector, an express agent, a
druggist's assistant, and a compositor. It was in the Golden
Era of San Francisco that Bret Harte made his first appear-
ance as a writer, save for some verses, written at the age of
eleven, which appeared in a New York journal. The city of
the Golden Gate then held many men who were to make their
names famous in American literature : " Mark Twain, Charles
Warren Stoddard, Prentice Mulford, and Charles Henry Webb.
These geniuses gave birth to The Califomian and, to quote
Howells' words, also brilliantly co-operated to its early extinc-
tion." It was in this periodical that the famous "Jumping
Frog of Calaveras" of Mark Twain appeared, but most of
Harte's work on the paper was journalistic, save for some verses.

In 1868 Harte was made editor of the Overland Monthly,
through which he won immediate and world-wide fame by
"The Luck of Roaring Camp."

The universal praise with which Harte met on the appear-
ance of this story had at first, says the author, a good effect-
This success was immediately followed by a second, " Plain
Language from Truthful James ; or. The Heathen Chinee."
But the general effect was bad. " The plain truth seems to be
that his head was turned, and he naturally edged toward the
point of the compass from which the applause came loudest."
He left California, and with it, says the volume, he left his
genius and his ambition for perfect, creditable work. " If he
was to write at all, he was to remain for the rest of his life
his own copyist when he did not choose to be the copyist of
others."

The Atlantic Monthly subsidized him at a salary of ten
thousand a year, which turned out a poor bargain for the
Atlantic. Harte was unreliable, and no longer an artist but an
artisan. In 1878 he left his family and his more "pressing
embarrassments " in America to accept a small Prussian con-
sulate ; then he was appointed to Glasgow, from which post
he was removed in 1885. The rest of his life he spent in
England, and during those seventeen years, though he wrote
much, he produced nothing which added materially to his repu-
tation. He died in Surrey, May, 1902.

I904.]

Views and reviews.

547

The other two divisions of the volume are but an amplifi-
Cition and a more detailed defence of opinions already expressed.
The reader has already anticipated Mr. Boynton's opinion of
Bret Harte, that " there was nothing heroic about the man
either for good or ill, and that his domestic experience was
not ideal."

The author has not a very high opinion of Harte's patriot-
ism : "It was of the amiably truculent sort which is expected
of the American abroad," With regard to his work Mr. Boyn-
ton writes: "Bret Harte had an unmistakable touch of his
own. He had no faculty of subtle analysis ; he did have a
crude, strong understanding of the crude, strong frontier life."
It seems to have been his exceptional mission to interpret that
life first and only once — and then fade away into the common-
place. That "one thing," says the author, "he did admirably,
and the world is in no danger of forgetting him."

The biography is thoughtful, honest, and, one might say,
severely critical. But we think this last characteristic is its great-
est excellence, and heartily wish that there was more of such
honest ability evidenced in the present-day world of letters.

The present volume • is a valua-

WAYS OF THE SIX-FOOTED, ble and attractive work in its own

By A. B. Comstock. particular field. Throughout its

pages the study of entomology is
mide doubly interesting by the graces of style, the apt quota-
tions, the artistic illustrations, choice bits of landscape, and
curious, though not repulsive, creatures of the fields and woods.
In our opinion the Ways of the Six -footed is a most delightful
text-book or library book, and we wish it heartily a wide cir-
culation.

LABORATORY MANUAL.
By S. £. Colemaa.

In a day when text-books of all
descriptions are being continually
thrust upon students, only to be
relegated very soon to the second-
hand bookstore, it is indeed a pleasure to receive a volume
like Mr. Coleman's Manual. f Unlike most of the text-books
published to-day, which have absolutely no reason for their

• Wayi oftht Six foottd. By Anna Botsford Comstock. Bo'ston ; Ginn & Co.
\ Physical LabomUfry Manual. By S. E. Coleman. New York, Cincinnati, Chicago:
Aniencan buok Cunipoiiy.

^^^!

ViEivs AND Reviews.

[Jan.,

existence, being merely our old standards masquerading in
modern phraseology, this book contains something original and
good.

In r^ard to the question whether the class-room or the
laboratory is the most important factor in the study of physics,
the author takes a moderate view, a sort of compromise, and
gives us a manual of instruction in which the laboratory work
is carefully co-ordinated with the work of the class-room. He
has arraaged the course into eighty-one exercises, each adapted
to give the stadeat both a theoretical and a practical knowl-
edge of dK snbjcct treated. The text in connection with each
eaeperunoit rn a wa% of: i. A statement of the purpose and
> ab|cct ^'■**"^ of the exercise; 2. References to leading text-
books ta pbysKs; 1. A list of the necessary apparatus; 4. Di-

for the successful performance of the
book is in every sense practical, and clearly
Ik tbft «oiit of a sfciMal teacher.

From the American Book Com-
pany we have received a number
of school-books* which seem well
porposes. Mr. Pearson's Latin Prose
rather more successful than most books
simplicity with thoroughness. Aus
is an excellent selection of short
and for French classes Le Petit Rob-
as interesting a narrative as a class-
books, one on great artists, the
of Philippine history, are full of
a different account could be
KdM^ Bit and death. Finally, Mr. Sanders'
■Mkes for independent thinking by
^ ^be proof of most of the propositions.
in a durable and attractive form,
of the modern printing-house
at ^ba Modem school curriculum.

C. ^nnoo. — Aus dtm detHschtn Dkkterasdd.

id Voc*bul»r>-, by J. H. Dillard.— Z.< Petit

W^t^ Edited, wich Notes and Vocabul.iry. by

A OMCn|ilucal Reader. By Samuel MaoClin-

%^i, V^ OtMw iMHac Home and Katherine Lois Scobcy. —

I
I
I

1904.]

V/Eivs AND Reviews.

549

This first volume* of the new

MERCHANT OF VENICE, edition of Rolfe's Shakespeare has

By W. J. Rolfe. been entirely revised and reset, is

small and convenient in shape, and
is plentifully supplied with attractive illustrations. A concise
account of Shakespeare's metre has been inserted, and minor
changes have been made throughout, the notes having been
abridged or expanded, and in many instances new ones added.
■ While the present edition is substantially new, yet it may be
used together with the old edition in the same class without
serious inconvenience.

An essayist is venturesome indeed
HENRY WARD BEECHER. who, amid the mass of previous
By Lyman Abbott. writings about that famous Ameri-

can, Henry Ward Beecher, would
expect to find an audience with attention fresh enough to
desire anything more upon a subject so many times pressed to
exhaustion. Yet so virile a writer is Lyman Abbott, and so
interesting a subject is Henry Ward Beecher, that the combi-
nation will surely find many who will even quicken their pulses
with eagerness to anticipate the enjoyment his book f has to
present. It would be difficullt to find any living man better
fitted to write about Mr. Beecher than Lyman Abbott. He has
all the qualifications of a good biographer: intimate knowledge
of his subject by personal friendship; an intellect keen enough
to enter largely into the mentality of his make-up, and an
enthusiastic admiration which makes many of the pages burn
with a flame that communicates itself to the reader. Mr.
Beecher used to say that " Ivnthusiasm was that spark in one
man's soul that set another man's soul on fire," and the spirit
of this book well illustrates that definition. Indeed, so promi-
nent is the ability of the author that it occasionally dominates
the subject so powerfully that it becomes like a spectacular
play where the scenery outdazzles the play.

Lyman Abbott is an analyst ; under the inspection of his
mind the reader seems to be present at an operating table,
where the swift movements of the surgeon and the flashing of
the scalpel occupy the spectators' attention almost to Ae exclu-

* Skaktsftan't Menkant of VenUt. Revised Edition. Edited with Notes by William J.
Rolfe. New York, Cincinnati, and Cfiicago: American Book Company.

t Henry Ward Detthtr. By Lyman Abbott. Boston: Houghton, Kfifllin & Co.

S50 VIEIVS AND REVIEWS. [Jan.,

sion of the subject operated on ; or like some enthusiastic lapi-
dary who holds up a gem to a prospective buyer — does it with
such skill and eloquence that the gem becomes of secondary
interest. The method of treating this biography is novel; it
is like a series of lectures on the important epochs of Mr.
Beecher's life. The first part, treating of his boyhood and the
early years of ministry in Indianapolis, are commonplace
enough, but the real business of the book begins with Mr.
Beecher's connection with Plymouth Church in Brooklyn in
October, 1847. From that time until his unfortunate entangle-
ment with a public scandal, which terminated in a trial now
forgotten but once famous, he was perhaps the most conspicu-
ous man in the public eye in all the United States. Certainly
no one man of his day, during those twenty years from 1850
to 1870, spoke so powerfully to so great a number of eager
listeners, on all manner of public matters, as Mr. Beecher. His
gifts as an orator were perhaps more widely known than those
of any public man of the nineteenth century in America.

Mr. Beecher will be chiefly known, no doubt, for his anti-
slavery speeches, which, spoken at a time when the public
mind was inflamed by the war spirit, fell upon willing ears and
roused the country to frenzy. The 150 pages which Lyman
Abbott devotes to this period should be read by every one
who is interested in that historical epoch of our country, for it
would be difficult to find in any book a more brief, compre-
hensive, and thrilling statement of the case of the North against
the South than his. The last period of Mr. Beecher's life was
one of disappointment to many of his most ardent admirers.
His trial, while not proving anything against him, and even
convincing most of his friends of his innocence, lost him for
many years the sympathy of the general public. Later still, he
became so loose in his theological views that many of those
who supported him in the stormy days of the trial were chilled
into apathy by his surrender to the claims of agnostic science.
This led him to repudiate the Fall of Adam, and consequently
the Atonement of the Cross. He called the Bible a religion of
life, not a book of doctrine. He also grew lax on the doctrine
of an eteifnal punishment for the lost, and substituted a theory
of conditional immortality — only to be gained by those fit to
enjoy it ; the unfit were to have no immortality at all. Mr.
Beecher was a man of mighty mind. One of the writers of his

1 904-] Vjews and Reviews. 551

day called him " the most myriad-minded man since Shak-
spere " ; but his greatness had limitations hard to be understood.
Why a man so blind to the fundamental doctrines of the
Christian faith should have chosen the preaching of Chris-
tianity as his profession in life is a mystery. Whether his
greatness had the qualities that will make an enduring fame, it
is too early to determine. Like Luther, he destroyed much
that had been faith ; and like Luther, he left little that can be
called faith ; but rather opinions — mere opinions — that shine
only because they were illuminated by genius.

A most attractive and interesting

WANDERFOLK IN WONDER- holiday book • for children is

LAND. By Edith Guerrin. Wanderfolk in Wonderland, by

Edith Guerrin. It is a volume
brimful of fun for the children and abounding in a wealth of
illustrations of the first order, by Edith Brown. It is excel-
lently printed on very good paper and handsomely bound. We
take great pleasure in recommending the book.

This little pamphlet f contains in
WORLDLY WISDOM. its twelve chapters a series of
By Mentor. practical counsels for young men

concerning character, health, indus-
try, companions, and amusements. There is a tone of good
sense throughout, the chief element in which is a right sympathy
with the young man as he is. Everything in the work is good ;
yet one might wish for fuller teaching on some of the real
difficulties that a young man faces. Choice of profession is to
a great extent determined by circumstances and opportunity;
hence counsel which supposes entire freedom of choice may
not always be helpful. The chapter on self-control is stimu-
lating, but it might well have been extended. On the whole
the little treatise is worthy of commendation. It cannot but
do good.

• Wandtrfolk in Wonderland. By Edith Guerrin. Boston : Small, Maynard & Co.
t Worldly Wisdom for the Catholic Youth. By Mentor. New York : Joseph Wa^er.

«( as^ ait Xibrari? 'CLable. » » »

tike Tabiei (7 Nov.) : The Roman Correspondent reports an
important move in the administration of ecclesiastical affairs
contemplated by Pope Pius X. The congestion in the
Congregation of the Propaganda, which has been increas-
ing for some years back, has now reached such a stage
that some change is inevitable. The Pope, writes the
Correspondent, intends to relieve the congestion by re-
viving the ancient functions of the Primates, who will
thus have jurisdiction over many questions now sent to

Rome for settlement. Letters from " Canon Theologian"

and others of various schools, dealing with the question
of " an open mind on the Temporal Power," show that
there certainly exist both an "open mind" and a great
deal of confused thought on that question.
(14 Nov.) : Contains a summary of the Pope's first allo-
cution, pronounced at the recent Consistory. The ori-
ginal te.xt of the passage referring to the position of
the Holy See and its right to be visibly independent is
given separately. In this passage the Holy Father states
that " it is necessary and of the highest interest to the
Christian Commonwealth that the Sovereign Pontiff
should, in his government of the church, be not only
free, but seen to be free, and under the influence of

no power whatsoever." Correspondence on "An Open

Mind on the Temporal Power" continued. Fr. Coupe,
S.J., holds that temporal power is necessary to the
church's " well-being." Another correspondent asks
whether temporal power is necessarily commensurate

with territorial power. An interesting letter from the

Roman Correspondent, in which he records that the
Vatican is considered government property by many
Italian officials, as is evident from the attitude taken by
the TribunUy the leading government organ. He also
states that a grave condemnation is about to be pro-
nounced upon the works of Abbe Loisy.
(21 Nov.): A leading article on "Pius X. and United
Italy," evoked by the visit of Italy's King and Queen

1904.]

Library Table.

SS3

to England, and by the utterances of the Holy Father
at his first Consistory, discusses the present relations of
the Holy See to the Italian government. — A verbatim
translation of the allocution delivered to the Sacred

College by Pius X. is given. An interesting incident is

recorded of a Catholic layman invited to lecture in a
Unitarian chapel, the subject being his reasons for join-
ing the Church of Rome. Correspondence continued on

the subject of an "Open Mind on the Temporal
Power." Letters this week from " Canon Theologian," "A
Priest," "An Anglo-Italian," E, Mottay, and John Brown.
(28 Nov.) : A leading article discusses the repeal of
the " Loi Falloux " by the French government, which
thus destroys all liberty of teaching for religious in

France. The Roman Correspondent records another

instance of the precariousness of the Holy Father's
position in Rome, in the agitation recently fomented
by the Tribuna over the occupancy of the Borgia
Apartment by the new Secretary of State, Cardinal
Merry del Val. The editor states that correspond-
ence on the question of temporal power may now

cease. Dom Maternus Spitz, O.S.B., contributes a

paper reviewing the missions in Western Sahara and the
Soudan.
Tht Month (Dec): Fr. Tyrrell presents a paper marked by
depth of thought, together with a practical insight into
and an appreciation of the needs and conditions of
modern life, at once enlightening and helpful. The arti-
cle deals with the religious aspect of what might be
called the present-day passion for labor. Far from being
irreconcilably opposed to each other, this modern passion
for work and progress, and the spirit of religion, are
seen, when rightly understood, to be properly, necessar-
ily united ; as they are mutually complementary parts of
one great whole, the one is incomplete without the
other. Only when united do they make for real and
true progress by insuring the full and harmonious de-
velopment of all man's powers and faculties. An article

on '* Freemasonry " contains a clear and forcible state-
ment of the principal reasons why the church forbids her
children to become members of that society.

554 Library Table. [Jan.,

The Critical Review (Nov.) : Begins this issue with an estimate
of Brown's Essence of Christianity, a critique which,
with the exception of one or two unimportant points, is
most favorable, declaring the work to be a most masterly
analysis of the problem involved in the definition of
Christianity. The reviewer is especially pleased with the
last part of the book, which is devoted to an exposition
of the religious ideas and ideals of such men as Kant,
Herder, Lessing, and Hegel. The chapter on Schleier-
macher is, in his opinion, the best account of that

philosopher that has as yet appeared in English.

Rev. John Beveridge, writing on the attitude of Nor-
way's leading theologians towards modern Biblical criti-
cism, maintains that they are liberal and progressive.
The occasion of his writing was the appearance of two
works on Scriptural questions recently published by two
professors of the Norwegian National University, namely,
Old Sanctuaries in Modem Light, by Prof. S. Michelet,
and The Old Testament in the Light of Modern Biblical

Research, by Prof. M. J. Faerden. Rev. John Len-

drum notices a recent work of Prof. Holtzmann which
bears on its title-page the repelling interrogation Was
Jesus Ekstatiker? The reviewer thinks that the book
might be read alongside Prof. James's chapters on

mysticism with some profit. Lilly's Christianity and

Modern Civilization is adversely criticised by Rev. Henry
Hayman, who takes exception especially to Mr. Lilly's
views on the supremacy of Peter, Monasticism, and the
influence for good wielded by mediseval popes in mat-
ters political and ecclesiastical. Of the chapter on Holy
Matrimony Mr. Hayman says : " Those who believe that
woman was created wife, and that, therefore, facilities
for divorce spell the moral ruin of womanhood, will
without hesitation thank the author for his timely and
powerful argument."

Le Correspondant (25 Oct.): In "Les Catholiques de la Tri-
plice " Arnold MuUer shows the signs that point to a
dissolution of this anti-French alliance on account of the
lack of union among Italian, German, and Austrian

Catholics. " L'Emigration italienne," by Humbert de

Pianti, insists on the necessity of primary education for

1904]

Library Table.

551

the masses, lest the crowds of Italian emigrants now
flocking to North and South America should find all
ports closed against them on account of their illiteracy.

The third article in the magazine, " Le Traitc d'Arbi-

trage permanent," is also by Arnold Mullcr. The author
proves with irresistible logic that permanent arbitration
treaties are dangerous, when they are not ineffectual.

" La Science et la Paysage," by A. de Lapparent,

is the most interesting paper in the number. It is writ-
ten in attractive style and deals with the hidden charms,
the natural mysteries and magic, of sites and landscapes.

" David d'Angers et les Tragiques grecs," by Henri

Jouin, is a discriminating and appreciative criticism of

this illustrious French sculptor. A description of the

festivities organized by Lord Curzon in India, to cele-
brate the coronation of King Edward VII., is given

us by Mme. Jules Lebaudy. " Une Correspond-

ance de Mme. de Stael," by L. de Larzac de Laborie,
is a critical analysis of a new book, Lettres incditcs de

Mme. de Siacl a Henri Meister. " La Vie economique

et le Mouvement Social," by A. Bechaux, and " Les
CEuvres et les Hommes," by Louis Joubert, are both
very sad pictures of the demoralization of French man-
ners, literature, and finances.

(lo Nov.): " Le Congr^s des Jardins ouvriers," by G. de
Lamazelle, and " Les £tudes litt^raires de Henri Bor-
deaux," are refreshment to the soul wearied by the pic-
tures of decadence and culpable weakness on the part
of governments presented in the articles: " De Jules
Ferry a Combes," by G. de Lamazelle ; " La Situation
politique en Italic," by Joseph de Grabinsky ; "La Loi
du Service de deux ans," by General Kessler; " De
Sidi-Ferruch a Fachoda," by L. Dufongeray ; and

" L' Empire du Sahara," by an anonymous writer.

" Deux Atlemands dans la Revolution fran<;aises," by
Lanzac de Laborie, is a study of a recent publication, and
shows the influence of the Revolution on German literature.
Quinsaine (i6 Nov.): M. Ernest Tissot gives a short
account of the family of Paul Bourget, and of his first

literary ventures. An estimate of Renan, by M. V.

Ermoni, assigns him little originality, M. Jean

▼OL. LXXVIII. — 36

556 Library Table. [Jan.,

d'£tiau, who has had fifteen years' experience of Alge-
rian life, analyzes the adverse influences which, not-
withstanding the fertility of the land and its convenient
situation, have prevented the French colonist from attain-
ing prosperity. ^The account of Mme. de Miramion and

her charitable works is concluded. ^The gardens of

Versailles are described by M. P^rat^. M. Philippon

tells of the genesis and evolution of the automobile.
( I Dec) : The director of this periodical, author of the well-
known pictures of contemporary French Catholic life,
Lettres d'un Curi de Campagne and Lettres d'un Curi de
Canton, presents the first instalment of a narrative which
is to illustrate the weaknesses of the misthods relied upon
by Catholics for making headway against contemporary

irreligion, and to suggest a better way. M. Gabriel

d'Azambuja from a wealth of experience dilates patheti-
cally on the servant- girl difficulty. Continuing his

study of the difficulties which beset the government in
Algeria, M. Jean d'£ti^u recommends that the com-
munities be held collectively responsible for all serious
offences against life and property. A fourth con-
tribution from M. P^rat^ on the Chateau de Ver-
sailles is devoted to the chapel.

Etudes {21 Nov.) : P. Dudon traces the changeful manner in
which Waldeck and Combes have dealt with the question
of the secularization of the religious whose communities

have been suppressed. As a sequel to his article in

the number of Sept. 20, P. Sortais would show that
in its endeavor to establish a moral union among all
classes of Frenchmen, by usurping the exclusive right to

teach, liberalism is preparing its own fall. The sketch

of the Princess de Condi's life in exile and in the convent

is continued. That inexhaustible subject, St. Alphonsus

Liguori's attitude towards probabilism, affords P. Bruker
matter for "one word more" in answer to Abb^
Turmel's views published in the Revue du Clergi Fr'anfais
of Sept. 21. ^The gentleman charged with the Bul-
letin Philosophique reviews the work done recently by
the members of the Institut G^n^ral Psychologique.

Revue Benedictine (Oct.) : Opens with an article — rather belated,
in view of the multitude that anticipated it — on Leo
XIII. and Pius X. Dom Janssens, the writer, bases his

I904-]

Library Table.

557

analysis of Leo's physionomie upon four characteristic
traits, " urbanity, love of letters, prodigious memory,
and angelic piety," and draws in a line a portrait of
Pius X., as "a man of humble origin, of uneventful career,
modest and friendly, yet grave and dignified in manner."

The more important of the reviews are those on

Bardenhewer's Patrologie and Cabrol's new Dictionnaire
d* Archhlogie et de Liturgie.
Revue du Lille (Oct.) : R. P. Deodat contributes a eulogy of
u the Venerable Duns Scotus, for whom he claims a place
I next in rank to St. Thomas, not only on account of his
I learning and subtlety, but because of his deep humility
and remarkable piety as well.
Revue Apologetique (Oct.) : The principal interpretations of the
first chapter of Genesis are clearly outlined by M.
Laminne. The writer rejects Literalism, Concordism,
and Revelattonism, and holds to the opinion that the
Mosaic account is the adaptation of popular tra-
dition as a means of conveying to the people the
central truths of the unity of God, divine Creation, and
the Sabbatical rest. The national religion of the Chi-
nese is explained in an article by Father Van Belle,
a missionary priest in that country.
Revue Ginerale (Nov.): A recent book by Lucien Percy serves
as an occasion for M. Paul Verhaegen to give a sym-
pathetic description of the Belgian provinces as they
were during the latter half of the eighteenth century.

M. A. De Kisser discusses the latest work of each of

the following writers : MM. de Vaissierc, Lair, Lemoine,

Schiitter, and M. Serignan. M. Kdg. de Ghelin, in

chronicling the social events of the day, points out many
defects in the present revenue law of Belgium. He
describes also a philanthropic scheme that the Tzarina
and the Tzar of Russia are about to put into practice to
satisfy the demands of the laboring class.
Democratie Ckretienne (Nov.): In a number ot letters on Capital
and Labor the relation between the employer and the
employee is well expressed. The remedy proposed for the
existing evils is the establishment of three commissions:
one composed of manufacturers and their representatives,
another of men whose duty will be to attend to the
interests of labor, and finally one to which all disputed

558 Library Table. [Jan.,

qviestions ,wili |be referred, made up of representatives

froni both classes. M. Levis Marnay analyzes and

critiqi^^s favorably Prof. Max Turmann's recent book on

the ^gric.viltural associations in Belgium. M. A. Cas-

trpyieto, professor of economics and politics in the Uni-
versity of Seville, writing on the political situation in
Spain, states that it is not likely that the retirement of
M. Silvela will effect any important change in the
general policy of the cabinet.

Science Catholique (Nov.) : M. L'Abbe J. Fontaine, writing on
the historical character of the Scriptures, attacks the
position of certain Catholic exegists and scholars who,
while seeking to uphold and safeguard the inspiration
and veracity of the sacred writings, declare that the
strictly historical accuracy of certain portions of the
Bible, more especially of the Hexateuch, may be
reasonably doubted without injury to the divine or
sacred character of these writings themselves or to the
divine revelation therein contained. The object of P.
Fontaine is to show that such admission would destroy
altogether the historical value of the Scriptures and their
veracity as a record of fact, and hence in consequence
their authority as a basis of divine revelation. The facts
recorded in the Bible are, the writer thinks, so closely
bound up with the doctrines there contained, that to
doubt in any case the historical accuracy of the former
would destroy the validity of the revealed truths them-
selves. In conclusion the writer deplores the unfortunate
tendency of so many Catholic scholars towards what he
calls rationalistic methods of Biblical interpretation and
advocates a return to that blissful state of undoubting
belief in all things Scriptural enjoyed by our forefathers in
the faith before the doubts and objections arising from the
use of modern critical methods came to disturb their repose.

Stimmen aus Maria Laach (Nov.) : A lengthy article by Fr.
Gruber is devoted to a consideration of Pope Leo's
letter to Cardinal Richard of Paris, on December 23, 1900,
and replies to M. Combes' contention that the late
Pontiff was guilty of unnecessary and unauthorized inter-
ference in the internal affairs of the French Republic

Fr. Pfiilf concludes his series on Brentano's "Way

to the Church," devoting this number to an account of

1904.]

Library Table,

559

Dr. Rinzser's relations with the great convert during the

years i8 15-18 Rev. C. A. Kneller, S.J., treats at

great length the question of St. Cyprian's idea of the
Church, directing his attention principally to the views on
" Unity " entertained by that Father. — Among the more
important book notices is a brief review of De Becker's
D( spoHsalibHS ct mattimonio pmhctiones canoniae by Fr.
Lemkuhl, who commends it as a work eminently practical
and helpful.
Itvista Iniernazionale [^ov.): L. Caissotti di Chiusano describes

hthe movement in Rome to better the dwellings of the
working classes. P. Bianchini discusses the best means
of providing for the religious safety of Italian emi-
grants. F. Ermini protests against the pagan ten-
dencies shown by such works as the Laudi of d'Annunzio.
divilta Cattolica (7 Nov.) : The reason why the Czar unex-
pectedly recalled his promise to visit the King of Italy
in Rome is said to be the spread of socialistic repub-
licanism in Italy. Everything in the Italian government's
recent history, from its protest against Papal representa-
tion at the Hague Conference to the latest ministerial
elections, proves that the country is drifting headlong
into a revolutionary policy. To rebuke this was the
prime motive of the Czar's refusal to visit Rome.
(21 Nov.): An article on the authorship of the fourth
Gospel declares that not only is there no foundation for
the opinion that John the Presbyter is the author, but
that it is even uncertain whether such a man ever
existed ; for the famous passage in Papias is too am-
biguous to deduce therefrom any stable conclusion.
Irenseus' statement must be accepted as decisive; viz.,
that John the Apostle wrote this Gospel in Asia.
(5 Dec): Pius VII. 's severe condemnation of Masonry
is said to have arisen from the Pontiff's conviction that
in the Masonic body were to be found the roots of the
noxious revolutionism which then threatened every throne
in Ivurope. In order to conceal its designs, Masonry
clothed itself in the guise of Protestant Bible societies,
which societies were composed, so reports Severoli to his
ecclesiastical superiors, " di tutti i* Franchi Massoni, e dei
novatori." One of the Pontifical acts most displeasing
to these sectaries was the restoration of the Jesuit Order.

f Comment on Current XCopics. ^

On December 8 Herbert Spencer died at
Herbert SpwiOM'. the age of eighty- three. In his early years
he had been instructed in the doctrines of
Methodism and Quakerism. While still young he refused the
Off«r ^ • college education, became a railway engineer, and,
ttw for the good offices of his uncle, the Rev, Thomas Spen-
Ctr, may be said to have been practically self-taught.

HU first literary work appeared about 1848 in the Econo-
mist, of which paper he was sub-editor, and shortly afterwards he
Ooatributed many papers to the Westminsier Review. In that
review appeared, in i860, "The Social Organism," an essay
in which Spencer sought to apply the doctrine of evolution to
•ociety, and in which is stated the central principle around
which he afterwards constructed his Synthetic Philosophy.

The plan of this Synthetic Philosophy, designed to be a
comprehensive summa of all scientific knowledge, was announced
in the same year, and although suffering much from sickness
And a delicate and nervous constitution, Spencer lived to see
his life-work finished by the publication in 1896 of the third
volume of the Principles of Sociology.

In his Synthetic Philosophy Spencer sought to cover every
field of philosophical thought, and to this herculean task he
applied himself in the face of discouragement and disappoint-
ment with unabated earnestness until its completion. ■

The magnitude of his task, the sublimity of his idea, the
synthesizing of all human knowledge, somewhat after the manner
of St Thomas Aquinas in the Summa, were enough to attract
and to interest thinking men, and the evolutionary enthusiasts
of the middle of the nineteenth century eagerly became the hearers
and afterwards the followers of a system of thought that would
apply their theories to the entire universe and its every form of life.

Spencer, of course, accepted the theory of Darwin, but
claimed that he had always been an evolutionist, though his
first statements on the question are by no means clear, and he
afterwards retracted some of them. In the matter of religion
Spencer, in his First Principles, argued that all knowledge is
relative, and hence that an Infinite Being is unknowable. Be-
hind this phrase, " the unknowable," Spencer seeks refuge in all
the fundamental questions which a philosopher of life must

Comment on Current Topics, 561

encounter. And by it he has proved his utter inability to
solve the problem of the metaphysical, to answer that ultimate
question of the world's existence and man's destiny. The coin-
ing of such a self- contradictory terra as the unknowable by
Mr. Spencer, is but a confession of his failure in the presence
of the one, all- important and ever-present problem for the
philosopher. To the unknowable Spencer assigned the sub-
stance of matter and the substance of mind, and any notion on
our part of God. This is rather to undermine both the reality
of knowledge and of phenomena than to create a positive, syn-
thetic philosophy. And happily we may say that Spencer's
teachings on these fundamental questions have neither weight
nor influence in the scientific world today. Similarly, the
knowledge of human society and its laws, the thoughtful con-
sideration and study which time alone can give, but which are
most necessary for the application of new principles, have thrown
overboard Spencer's notions with regard to evolution and the
social organism. Evolution, if it be true with regard to society,
as Spencer would apply it, must work upon the individual not
directly but indirectly, through society itself. The highest
developed individual, then, will be one who is ihe most suited
to the improvement of society, and evolution will go on per-
fecting itself until the individual becomes an inconsiderable
quantity and society the be-all and the end-all. This is self-
contradictory, of course, and Spencer had to deny his own
theory later by writing that "the corporate life must be sub-
servient to the lives of the parts; instead of the lives of the
parts being subservient to the corporate life."

Again, Spencer refused to consider Christianity, maintaining
that it had no philosophy; whereas, in truth, Christ gave a
new philosophy to man, and even if Spencer could but view
Christianity as a fact, he should have looked as a philosopher
for the principles powerful enough to make it a fact of such
magnitude and such long-continued and potent existence.

In truth, we might say that Spencer wrote philosophy as a
novice writes history — without its philosophy. He grappled
with great theories, but they were too much for him; they
were unknown and perhaps, to use his own word, unknowable
to him, but not for the reasons which he assigned. Spencer was
not a great philosopher. He lived to sec his work completed
as he had planned it, but it is a melancholy fact that before
its end he had repudiated some of his own teachings, and the

562

Comment on Current topics.

[Jan.,

successors of the evolutionary school, which gave him birth,
repudiated all of his principles. At the end he was a writer,
not a teacher. As a system the Synthetic Philosophy is with-
out living power in the world of philosophy to- day, and
Herbert Spencer's work will live principally for its encyclopae-
dic value and for the influence it once exercised on the world
of thought.

The Prize Contest inaugurated by Miss
The Gould j^igig^ Miiigr Qq^i^ f^j. tijg ,3^5^ jjj^gg g 5

Bible Contest. , , , . r , t>

on the origin and history of the Roman

Catholic and Protestant versions of the Bible has attracted great
interest from every quarter. It is an exceptional opportunity
for Catholic scholars to come to the front in support of the
claims of our Holy Church, and to evidence their learning and
erudition as well as their zealous fidelity.

Many complaints have been heard that the contest would
not be conducted with absolute fairness, but we think the sub-
joined letter ought to give assurance on that point. We also
Add the conditions that accompany the offer :

BinLE Teachers Training School, a

Office, 83 East Fifty- fifth Street, New York City, f

December 22, 1903. )
Editor of the Catholic World.

Dear Sir: In reply to your inquiry of December 19,
would say that I am enclosing Supplement to our Bulletin,
which gives full particulars concerning the prize contest. I
desire that this contest shall be conducted in a perfectly fair
manner to all parties concerned. I am hoping that there will
not appear the spirit of partisanship, and shall do all in my
power to keep this out of the contest. It is the facts we are after.

I have a letter from Miss Gould in which is the following
sentence : " Personally I am quite ready if the Roman Cath-
olic Version is proved to be superior to accept it. What I
desire is simply the truth." I have addressed a letter to one
of the most prominent Roman Catholic clergymen and officials
in this country, asking him if he will consent to be a judge in
this contest, and have said to him, among other things, that I
hope one of the results of this contest will be the recognition
by many Protestants of excellences in the Roman Catholic
Versions. Yours very sincerely,

W. W. White.

I
I

1904.]

Comment on Current Topics.

563

CONDITIONS OF THE CONTEST.

I. — This contest is open to all, without respect to creed, color, or country.
Associated study is permissible.

2. — It should be carefully observed that the subject of the paper is a
double topic, viz, :

The Origin and History of; (i) The Version of the Bible authorized by
the Roman Catholic Church. (2) The Version of the Bible known as the
Revised Version, American Standard Edition.

This topic may be treated in two parts or otherwise, as the writer of a
paper may elect. Contestants should keep in mind the two statements made
by Father Earley, viz.: (jj) "The Authentic Version of God's words as
authorized by the Church has come down to us unchanged from the time of
Christ Himself." (/') "The Protestant Version goes back only to the days of
Henry VIII. of England, and was then gotten up for obvious reasons." A
part of the duty oE the writer of a paper will be to ascertain and clearly set
forth what is the Authentic Version authorized by the Roman Catholic Church,
to be read in the homes of the people.

3. — A contestant is at liberty to introduce and explain any verbal or
doctrinal differences in the texts of the Versions in question, provided light
will thereby be thrown on the history of one or the other of the Versions.

4. — Contestants should note that it is desired to secure not merely a
thorough but also a popular statement of the facts for general use. The
judges therefore will have regard, not only to the historical accuracy of the
papers submitted, but will also be much influenced in their decision by the
adaptability of a paper to the average reader. The presentation must be
L accurate and thorough, popular and striking.

5. — Papers mailed or expressed from the home of a contestant as late as
June I, 1904., will be admitted. A letter announcing the forwarding of the
paper should be posted on the day of sending the paper. Papers may be
sent, if ready, before June I.

6. — No paper shall contain more than eighl thousand words, exclusive of
illustrative diagrams, five of which are permissible. Diagrams, if employed,
'must hi simple and clear. Each diagram should aim to set forth distinctly a
I single important fact or series of facts. It should be especially noted that the
Introduction of diagrams is entirely optional ; also that the papers may con-
tain less than eight thousand words.

7. — A Bibliography shall accompany each paper. This will not be re-
igarded as part of the manuscript. It shall contain not merely a list of the
['books and authorities consulted in the preparation of the paper, but also an
feithaustive and accurate setting forth of original sources, according to the most
iftppro/cd methods of modern scientific research, so that every statement made
in the paper shall be based upon evidence back of which no one can go.

8. — Papers shall be type-written. Use business letter size, that is, paper
measuring 8x1 1 )j inches, or thereabouts, and write on one side only. Let
the p iges be plainly numbered, and loosely fastened together at the top left-
hand corner. Papers must be sent flat (not rolled or folded).

9. — Accompanying the paper, attached to the first page, shall be a se.iled
envelope, containing the real naine and address of the writer, together with a
fictitious name. The fictitious name only shall appear on the outside of the
envelope and at the top of the first page of the manuscript. The envelope
will not be opened until after the decision of the judges shall have been made.
Care will be taken that no judge shall know the identity of any writer before
rendering a decision upon all papers.

10. — All papers submitted shall become the property of the Bible
Teachers Training School.

564 Comment on Current Topics. [Jan.,

II. — The prize papers will be published first in the Bulletin of the Bible
Teachers Training School and afterwards in book form.

12. — Contestants shall be subscribers, to the Bulletin of the Bible Teachers
Training School, in which information concerning the contest will appear from
month to month. The price of the Bulletin is one dollar a year.

13. — Only those inquirers who enclose self-addressed stamped envelopes
may be assured of reply.

14. — ^Notice of intention to write a paper should be sent without delay.

15.'*— Address all correspondence to the President of the Bible Teachers
Training School, 83 East 55th Street, New York City.

In the magnificent and world-wide Exposi-
The Catholic Social tion to be opened at St. Louis there should
Exhibit. be no more appealing, no more striking ex-

hibit than that of the Catholic charities and
social work of this country.

The preparation of that exhibit has been entrusted to the
Rev. Dr. Kirby and Dr. Neill, professors of the School of Social
Sciences at the Catholic University, and from our knowledge
of both men we know that as far as their part is concerned,
the exhibit will be all that any Catholic could desire. But
they need the co-operation, the help, of the Catholics through-
out the country — the hierarchy, the priesthood, the laity — and
we trust that the full measure of none of these will be wanting
to them. The work, evidence of which they seek to gather, is
there, emphatic, Mride-spread, crowned with the true note of
charity — self-sacrifice. All that is required are eager, willing
hands to sum it up, to put it together, to exemplify it, and
then our fellow-countrymen will be given a sense of the extent
and the practical value of Catholic charity.

Picture the numbers of homes for the aged and the poor ; the
sick and the crippled ; the incurable and the dying ; the social
outcast; the orphan and the widow; the homes for the needy
toilers ; the benevolent, fraternal, and literary societies ; the edu-
cational institutions, primary, secondary, collegiate, and the very
thought of all is sufficient to fire the soul. The workers them-
selves labor quietly. It is significant of Catholic charity that it
is done in the Lord and receives not its reward from men ; but
we who know the work ought to be willing to show its glory,
that men, seeing it, may glorify in turn the Christ who inspires
it. The exceptional opportunity offers itself; we trust that it
will be taken and turned to true and lasting advantage.

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION

A STUDENT of the discussion on the best standard for a public-school
systena has written to inquire for a volume dealing with the history of
Catholic Parish Schools in the United States. We regret to state that no
such book has as yet appeared. The only information accessible at present
is contained in pamphlets published by Catholic school officials, especially in
Boston, Philadelphia, and New York. It is to be hoped that such a volume
as is here indicated may soon appear, to meet the needs of students wishing
to make an impartial study of the Catholic claims for recognition as deserving
the consideration of all honest thinkers. With men of good-will there is a
way to include the Parish Schools of any denomination under the public
system of tax-supported education, even without the approval of Dr. Harris,
the Commissioner of Educational Statistics for the United States.

In Germany the problem has been solved in a satisfactory way, as shown
by the following statement prepared by a writer for the London Times :

Elementary education is compulsory throughout Germany from six years
up to an indeterminate age, which is in practice usually fourteen. Individual
school liability may cease before that age, at the discretion of the district or
local inspector, if the child has reached the standard deemed sufficient. All
children are required to have this schooling, and if they do not receive it else-
where to the satisfaction of the state they must go to the public elementary
schools. About 95 per cent, of the children of school age are taught in these
schools. That is to say, the great mass of the people receive their elementaty
education there. It is free in some parts of Germany, but not in all. Of the
two states with which we are chiefly concerned, Prussia has free elementary
education; Saxony has not ; there the parents pay a small fee — usually 5s.
or 6s. a year — 'but if they are totally unable to pay it may be remitted. In
both stateSj and, I believe, throughout Germany, they have to provide the
books and other things required.

The functions of the VolkischuU, or people's elementary school, is "the
religious, moral, and patriotic training of the young by education and teach-
ing, and their instruction in the general knowledge and requirements requis-
ite for civil life." This definition gives the key to the whole educational
scheme. Character and conduct are the primary objects, then love of coun-
try, then such general knowledge as will enable the child to take its part in
the ordered life of the community, whether as man orwoman ; and, after that,
the special knowledge. Religion, therefore, comes first, as the indispensable
foundation of morality and conduct, The logical German mind holds that
morality cannot be efficiently taught apart from religion, and, further, that
religious teaching, to be effective, must be dogmatic. For this the law
carefully provides. The schools are denominational and separate for Roman
Catholics and Evangelicals, except where there are not enough children of
one confession to form a separate school ; in that case they are mixed — pari'
tatscke ox simnllanschulen — but the children receive religious instruction from
teachers of their own confession. In 1896 there were in Prussia 6&0 v\c^

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1904.] The Columbian Reading Union. 567

The school buildings are regulated by law with respect to height of
rooms, cubic space, and other matters. Great attention is paid to vtntilation,
warming, and light, and in these respects the newer schools, in towns at
least, are excellent. I have previously noted the value attached to good
lighting in factories ; it is the same in the schools. The Germans appear to
me to have realized more than most people the very simple facts that a bad
light spoils the eyesight by straining accommodation, and that a good one
greatly increases efficiency by diminishing the expenditure of nerve energy on
mere perception and consequently releasing it for other work. So far as one
can make a general statement from a limited field of observation, 1 should say
the school buildings are plain and unpretending, but adequate and ■^tW
adapted to their purpose.

The most important factor, however, is the teaching staff, and this is, I
think, the strongest point in the German system. The teachers are trained
in seminaries, of which there were in Prussia 129 — 120 for men and 9 for
women — in 1901. The course there lasts three years and is carried out in
three classes, but the training really extends over six years, as the seminary is
preceded by three years in preparatory institutes, which are maintained either
by the state or by municipalities. In Saxony the whole six years are passed in
state training colleges. Qualification for appointments is obtained by exam-
ination at the close. In addition to the systematic preparation for the career
thus secured, the efficiency of the teachers is promoted by their recognized
position. They have the duties and rights of civil servants, and as such enjoy
various privileges, including partial exemption from liability to military ser-
vice and from municipal taxes, as well as an assured and sufficient income and
a pension. ' The official position has, further, a moral value in Germany which
it lacks with us. It carries with it a dignity and respect which in an educated
man generate . self-respect and self-confidence, the opposite of self-assertion.
The German elementary school teacher has no need of self-assertion, and
consequently does not teach it — that bane of our elementary schools.
• * •

One thousand dollars were given in fourteen prizes by the publisher of
New Thought for the best definition within ten words of New Thought. The
following were the definitions winning the prizes-rthe first of $500, the second
of $250, etc.:

Being ^nd doing one's best by repeatedly affirming one's ability.

We are what we assert ourselves to be.

Claim that you are what you desire to be.

The cheerful, persistent assertion of the soul's prerogative to rule.

Continuous affirmation of whatever helps us achieve our highest pos-
sibilities.

Attaining the ideal in life through thought concentration and assertion.

Mental imagery, personally controllable, governs bodily health and
individual circumstances.

Holding constantly before one's thoughts the omnipotence of man's mind.

Human development through recognition and assertion of human divinity.

The control of mental force by positive, concentrated, ideal suggestion.

Realization of ideals by becoming them through force of desire.

Benefiting or injuring others and ourselves reciprocally through thought
force.

Fear nothing ; love everything ; believe you can do anything.

The recognition, realization, and manifestation of the God in me.

Commenting on these remarkable definitions a writer in American Medi-
cine makes this statement:

It seems, therefore, that the more one claims, regardless whether he has
it or not ; the more egotism one cultivates ; the more one ignores facts and
lives in indifference to them ; the more one ignores disease and treats himself,
or hires absent treatment by means of vibrations, the more one realizes the
God in me. M. C. M.

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Wcrg *Rcvercn^ tSeor^e ©eebott,

Smftrior Gentrjl oj tht Paulisti.

Born January 30, 1833: Dk'd December 30, 1903.

THE

CATHOLIC WORLD,

Vol. LXXVIII. FEBRUARY, 1904.

No. 467.

THE VERY REVEREND GEORGE DESHON. C.S.P.

BY VERY REVEREND GEORGE M. SEARLE, C.S.P,

'ATHER DESHON was the last survivor of the
original founders of our community, and his life
of nearly fifty years in it has been a very
prominent factor in its history. It is with this
that this sketch will be mainly concerned. His
previous life at the Military Academy at West Point, and his
intimate relations with many distinguished soldiers, especially
with his classmate and roommate, General Grant, are probably
well known to all who will see this ; and also the promptness
and earnestness with which he determined, when once con-
vinced of the truth of the claims of the Catholic Church, to
devote himself to the service of God in it as perfectly as
possible by becoming a priest and a religious, so as to do his
utmost to win or bring back others to the same service.

My own acquaintance with him began at Christmas, 1864,
when I was invited to spend a few days at the Paulist house.
Fathers Tillotson and Young had then been added to the origi-
nal band. All were converts to the faith ; converts, moreover,
who had, simply by the grace of God and their own earnest
correspondence with it, worked their own way into the Church,
with little or no human aid. They were a very remarkable
body of men ; each, it may be said, remarkable in his own
way ; and the roads by which they had come into the Church
had been by no means the same. But in one respect they
were all alike ; that is, in a true vocation to the religious life,
as distinguished from the secular, and a thorough understand-

ThK MiSStONABY SOCIKTY OF ST. PAUL TUB APOSTLK IN THE STATB
OF NXW YOKK, 1903.

VOL. LXXVIII.— 37

570 Vehv Reverend George desmon, C.S.P. [Feb.,

ing of all that is meant by it. The departure of the founders ■
from the congregation to which they had previously belonged
had not been understood by them as any relaxation of the
principles on which it was established. Though in their new
community they took no vows, they were determined to live as J
perfectly according to the vows as if they had them ; and those
who had joined them had no other idea. It was the first
opportunity I had had of observing anything of the kind, and
of course it made a strong impression on me. And though
their exterior work was less noticeable to one seeing them in
this way, as it were, from the inside, it was evident that there
was plenty of it On my departure. Father Hewit accompanied
me, bound for a distant mission, in bitter wintry weather.

But it was not till over three years later, in the spring of
1868, when I came to the novitiate, that I began to know
Father Deshon individually. At that time there were some
twelve novices, preparing for the community and the priest-
hood ; and Father Deshon was the novice-master.

With him, and in his direction of us, the religious or com-
munity life was accentuated. We were, of course, preparing for
the priesthood and the mission or parish work. Perhaps these
great works, especially that of the mission, may have been very
prominent in the minds of most of the students ; it was the
thing most likely to attract attention from outside, and Father
Deshon probably knew this. At any rate, he seemed to take
for granted (and no doubt had reason for doing so) that the
students were animated by zeal for priestly work, and specially
for the work of the missions, which had attracted so much
attention ; so that it did not appear necessary to stimulate
this zeal. Some of the students, of course, did not persevere; ■
but those who did were, like most students, anxious to begin
their work as soon as possible, and were fully aware of its
merit ; and even to some extent, at any rate, prepared for its
difficulties. So he preferred to constantly call their attention to
the one thing needful ; the one thing without which no ability
or zeal will accomplish great or permanent results in the work
of a community, and with which, well grounded in a commun- ■
ity and in its individual members, even the most ordinary
talents will yield abundant fruit. That is to say, it was to the
interior life of love of God and union with him that he con-
stantly directed our thoughts and efforts; detachment from the
world, poverty, obedience, and mutual charity were favorite

1904] VE/iv Reverend George Deshon, C.S.P. 571

I
I

subjects with him for conferences. Indeed his words to us
were very much the same as might have been addressed to
Carthusians or the hermits or coenobites of the desert, who
were certainly his favorite saints. One would not have gathered
from thetn that we were on the verge of an intensely active life,
the greater part of which was necessarily to be occupied with
people and things external to the community. Perhaps he may
have gone too far in this direction ; but if it was a mistake, it
was a mistake, so to speak (to use a frequent expression of
his), on the right side. The actual and unavoidable practice of
the exterior life wilf show to the well-disposed the virtues neces-
sary for it; but the interior life and that of the community as
such may easily be forgotten, or at any rate undervalued, in the
rush and pressure of external affairs.

The regular community exercises of meditation and prayer,
made by us at fixed times in the oratory, were always matters
of special solicitude with him, and to the end of his life he
was as careful to attend them as if he were still on probation
as a novice.

And yet he was emphatically a man of affairs. He had an
excellent understanding of business matters, and a good prac-
tical judgment in managing them. When the interests of the
community were concerned, he never found it hard to come
down from the abstract to the concrete. He had an excellent
head for mathematics, as is sufficiently shown by his high
standing at West Point; and he refreshed his memory of it,
and applied all the scientific knowledge of any kind at his
command, whenever it would be of service for anything con-
nected with the church or house. But he never would indulge
in the study of physical science for its own sake, though he
must have had a natural taste for it-
He took a special interest in the matter of building; and a
great deal had to be done in his time. Our great church in
New York was, it may be said, really his work. He superin-
tended every detail of its construction, and would spend days
upon the walls while they were going up, to make sure that
everything was done carefully and thoroughly. And his
knowledge of engineering, acquired at West Point, was of great
service, particularly in the construction of the roof During
these last years, he was much interested in its decoration ; but
in this matter, feeling sure that the work was in competent
hands, he had less confidence in his own judgment.

lEVEJtEND GEORGE DESHON,

Ttarne is oo doabt that, as a general rule, he had this con-
■fci ch is a good thing for a soldier. As he had a
iMftd, 4ad had studied faithfully at the Academy, he
WmM itt all probability have made his mark in the military
l« aitd attained distinction during the Civil War, if he
kid fillinnd in the army ; and it is believed that such was
tb« OfttaioB of those educated with him at West Point. The
•biUly to dtcidc^ Ukd to adhere to a decision once made, is
ptrhtpn OMC* iMCessary to a military commander than a judi-
«M Mtllkdk which insists on weighing every argument pro and
v^^ t *(^ OMy tMRain for a long time undecided among a mul-
(tlwltt ^ rttmilT Of course this does not apply to merely
•|||^4d' ftktUlKy. which cannot or will not distinguish between
1 giHui ^lan and a bad one ; but it is better to have a good
bIm 1B^ carry it out, than to have several which are better,
wA b# unable to decide on any, or put ofT the decision till it
U tv>o late.

Father Deshon was usually pretty sure that he was right ;
aud when he asked for advice, it was often rather with the
hope o! obtaining a confirmation of his own judgment than
with a readiness to abandon it. He did not readily change his
minil in deference to the opinion of others, unless it was evi-
dent that they had just claims to be better informed on the
lUiitter in .hand. But he had no difficulty in giving interior
assent to the dictates of any such real authority. Above all,
he had a most sincere and thorough interior submission to the
teaching authority of the Church and of the Vicar of Christ,
its Head; indeed he never would or could have become a
Catholic otherwise. It was not sentiment which brought him
into the Church, or an attraction to any special doctrine or
devotion, but a hard-headed logical conviction of her right to
speak and to rule in Christ's Name, That is to say, he was a
true and real convert; those who have not this conviction
deeply ingrained can hardly be considered so.

He was also ready to yield exterior obedience to any law-
ful authority to which only that was due. It is true that in
the community he did not have much need to show this, for
even when he was not in the position of Superior, his judg-
ment in the practical matters with which obedience is generally
concerned, was usually deferred to by those over him; but
whenever this was not the case, he did not hesitate to obey.
He was too good a soldier for that. A few days before his J

1904.] VEJtV REVEREND GEORGE DESHON, C.S.P. 573

death, he had an attack somewhat similar to that which proved
fatal. He recovered promptly from it under the physician's
treatment, but was ordered to remain in bed, though he felt
nearly as well as before. As I found him there, and inquired
how he was, he said : " I have to obey orders ; I learned that
at West Point." He did not believe there was much need to
keep his bed ; but if the doctor would not let him up, he felt
he had to stay there.

He felt the pressure of the community rule in the same
way, regarding the bell for the regular exercises as if it were
the order of a Superior, It was not merely with him that the
rule was the means of perfection ; it was to him as the tap of
the drum had been, and he could not see how any one could
fail to have that idea of it.

The influence of his military education was indeed unmis-
takable through his whole subsequent life. Until the few last
years when the infirmities of old age made themselves felt, it
was easily perceptible even in his walk ; more so indeed than
in regular officers or soldiers generally. His quick, decided
step, and erect carriage caught the eye at once. Probably it
was also principally responsible for a certain brusqueness and
seeming severity of manner which made him at times less
easily approachable than others. But he did not mean to be
unkind, and was not in fact, when this somewhat rough exterior
was penetrated. He endeavored to be charitable to atl, and
had in his heart a sincere and special affection for every one
in the community.

As might be expected from his New- England ancestry, he
was naturally reserved and undemonstrative. He was not so
much inclined to sensible devotion as to a solid devotion to
the will of God. His favorite theme in preaching was the love
of God ; by which he meant not any feeling or emotion, but a
steady determination to do His will, and to suffer all that it
might require. This was his own plan of life, and the one
which he always recommended to others.

Such an example of steady, persevering, and reasonable ser-
vice, having its strength not from impulse, but from unswerv-
ing principle, is perhaps of special value in these easy-going
days. May God, whom he so constantly endeavored to serve,
give him abundantly the consolation which he was willing to
forego here !

fERBERfSPENCER.

;Fcb.,

HERBERT SrENCER.

»Y REVEREND JAMES J. FOX. D.D.

I. — Then and Now.

|HIRTY years ago the people who dubbed them-
selves the party of Advanced Thought — some
of whom did think, most of whom had their
advanced thinking done for them — if asked for
a profession of their philosophical and religious
ImIH itti^jht have expressed their creed with Mohammedan
|MM|>licity in the formula, Great is Evolution, and Herbert Spencer
^ it$ pivpJktts The Synthetic Philosophy was the final, compre-
Ittiiiiive, complete answer to the riddles which had perplexed
«l*n since the days of Job and the Rig Veda, and a great
PAAy years before. It had reduced all genuine knowledge to
^•autiful unity; it had happily co-ordinated the realm of
inoculation and that of practical life. The endless quarrel
|»9tween religion and science was closed at last, never to be
l^vived ; for the Supreme PontiflF of knowledge had divided the
universe of being impartially between them; science receiving
tk her proper domain everything about which anything could
\st known; religion, everything about which nothing could ever I
be known. Not only had Spencer measured and defined the
course the Universe had traversed since it had emerged from
Nothing and Nowhere, but he indicated, with tolerable accuracy,
the direction in which it is proceeding and the goal it is to
roach. Furthermore, the prophecy announced a good time
coming, though we might have to wait for it a little longer,
when we should all " sit at endless feast, enjoying each the
Other's good."

Then, the literature of the day resounded with the Homeric
laughter of the leaders and the camp-followers over the defeated
Joe. The field was strewn with the debris of demolished
systems and antiquated ideas. Creation, a personal God, the
argument from design, the moral Lawgiver, the soul, were
finally «nil completely disposed of. The trumpery paraphernalia
\\\' which the old charlatan. Christian Theology, had so long

1904-]

Herbert Spencer.

575

deluded the Western mind, stood exposed in the serene but
pitiless light of modern science.

In Protestant orthodoxy something like panic prevailed.
Science was not to be gainsaid ; but it was evident that under
the guise of science infidel speculation was entering the vine-
yard. Where was the work of destruction to end ? The Catho-
lic professional apologist and theologian, roundly speaking, met
the crisis with heroic measures. Since, in the confusion that
prevailed, it was difficult to distinguish between true science
and false speculation, only one thing was to be done, — shut the
gates against both and wait for better days. This measure
eflFectually hindered erroneous theories from obtaining a foot-
hold within the citadel, but it was not without its drawbacks.

Herbert Spencer outlived his triumph. The innumerable
appreciations of his work, which have appeared since his death,
while recognizing the wide permanent influence he has exerted,
and his claims to the rank of philosopher, acknowledge, either
expressly or by significant silence, that his system of philosophy,
as a whole, has been, already, relegated to the "gospels of
yesterday." The thought of to-day perceives that there are some
important things in heaven and earth which are not dreamt
of, much less accounted for, in the " Synthetic Philosophy."
Evolution, even if accepted without reservation, is seen to be
but a process, that no more accounts for the primal origin of
things than a railroad time-table constructs the locomotive.
Not alone does it leave untouched the proof which the universe
proclaims of an intelligent Creator, but it sets forth order and
design in the world with far more impressive grandeur than
they received in the argument of Paley and the Bridge water
Treatises.

II. — The Unknowable.

What has brought about this revaluation of Spencer's work ?
The chief cause was the defects in the system itself. These are
of three kinds : in the first place, some of its most fundamental
principles are not only false but are in glaring contradiction
with one another ; secondly, in the development of his theories,
Spencer's logic exhibits fatal flaws, — gratuitous assumptions,
unwarranted inferences, an inveterate trick of turning a may-
hav€'been of one chapter into a must'have-befn in the next, and

576 Herbert Spencer. [Feb.,

an a priori method of treating facts, ignoring all the inconven-
ient ones, and considering only those which squared with or
could be twisted to fit into his preconceived theories. Thirdly,
and especially, his philosophy as a practical scheme for the
guidance of life, is the negation of all moral values. Instead
of justifying the dignity of life, the importance of conduct, the
immeasurable gulf between virtue and vice, its logical con-
clusion is that good and bad are equally the manifestation of
the irresistible energy which determines the conduct of every
individual as inexorably as it does the movements of the stars;
that the saint and the profligate are equally the result of forces
over which they have no control. Assailed on all sides, by
metaphysicians and biologists, by independent free thinkers, and
by theologians of every school, by moralists and physicists, by
Martineau and Ward, by Mivart and Westermarck, by evolu-
tionists and anti-evolutionists, the structural weaknesses, as well
as the innumerable defects of detail, which exist in the system
stand palpably exposed to its discredit.

The initial and most fundamental error of Spencer is his doc»
trine of knowledge, in which he professed to find the reconcilia-
tion of science with religrion. Prefixed to his treatment of
Evolution is his inquiry into the nature and scope of knowl-
edge. He called it a metaphyso-theological doctrine. It may
be called metaphysical, but why it should be called theological,
since it undertakes to prove that there can be no such thing
as theology, is one of the innumerable questions to which a
devout Spencerian cannot easily give a satisfactory answer.

When we know any object, Spencer begins, we know it only
through its limitations; that is, by the way it differs from
other things ; by what it is not, rather than by what it is. If
anything existed without such differences — that is, without
relations and limitations — we could not know it at all. If there
is anything that has no limitations, therefore, it cannot be
known to the human mind. Hence, Spencer proceeds to show,
the Infinite is necessarily unknowable, because unlimited, the
Absolute is unknowable because unrelated. To attempt to form
an idea, therefore, of the Infinite and Absolute — these are the
terms which Spencer substitutes for God — is to attempt the
impossible. We are for ever debarred from forming even a
notion, much less acquiring any knowledge concerning such an
object. The Infinite, therefore, is to be relegated to the do-

1904.]

Herbert Spencer,

S77

main of the Unknowable, into which our reason can never
penetrate. In this same region of the Unknowable every ulti-
mate idea of science is found to escape from us ; an analysis
of our ideas of space, time, motion, carry us into hopeless
contradiction.

The only legitimate field of knowledge, then, is the world
of things which we come in contact with through our senses —
that is, by experience. Of things which lie beyond experience
we can know nothing, and any fancied knowledge of them is
the merest self-delusion. While science thus takes possession
of the whole field of knowledge, the Unknowable Spencer
assigns as the proper object of religion. Our attitude towards
this object is one of silent, unthinking reverence; this attitude
is the true essence of religion; the "soul of truth in things
erroneous," which is found in all religions, but in all hopelessly
perverted by elements added to it through attempts to give it
some intelligent expression.

But Spencer has no sooner declared that the Infinite is
absolutely unknowable than he assures us that we cannot avoid
assuming that we do know it, as First Cause of everything;
and that, furthermore, this consciousness of the First Cause is
the indispensable basis of alt knowledge. After teaching that
this Infinite, Absolute, First Cause is utterly unthinkable, and
that the human mind is, by its very nature, incapable of know-
ing anything about it, Spencer proceeds to declare that he
knows it is a Power, that it is the Power from which all things
proceed, and that it is the Power which produced in him cer-
tain beliefs (those embodied in his Philosophy), and thereby
authorized him to profess and act out these beliefs, and, besides,
imposed on him the obligation of not carelessly allowing to
die the thoughts born in him.

The enemy found but little difficulty in demonstrating the
astonishing self-inconsistency of this self- destructive doctrine,
which Spencer borrowed from Hamilton and Mansel, and twisted
into obvious absurdity by adapting it to a purpose opposite to
that for which they had devised it. " What shall we say of
that which transcends all knowledge ? " is the question Spencer
puts. "Say?" "Why, nothing, of course. What is there to
say except ' I do not know,' " replied Dr. Barry, and in that
reply he summed up the gist of the countless expositions of
Spencer's blunder. The late Professor Fiske, who helped so

578

-^ - -Arf^S ♦»•, -

Herbert spencer.

efficaciously to popularize Spencer's Philosophy in America,
endeavored to palliate the contradiction by an explanation that
would make the term unknowable equivalent to incomprehensible,
and therefore quite legitimate. Notwithstanding some fine
writing, and much indignant denunciation of " theologians of
every school, and penny-a-liners of no school," he failed to
persuade. Spencer had expressed his meaning too clearly and
too persistently to permit his doctrine to be assimilated to that
of St. Thomas. An article in The Catholic World of Feb-
ruary, 1872, from the pen of Dr. Brownson, anticipated many
of the most damaging of the exhaustive criticisms that, in
the course of a decade, pulverized Spencer's theory of the
Unknowable.

The promised reconciliation of religion and science was but
an attempted destruction of the basis of all religions, which
was degraded to a blind sentiment with no reasonable object.
The partition of Spencer awarded alt knowledge to science,
while religion was banished to a barren rock surrounded by a
boundless, unfathomable ocean of ignorance. Somebody, rather
flippantly but appositely, characterized the reconciliation as
another version of the story of a

" Young lady of Riga,
Who went for a ride on a tiger :
They returned from the ride —
With the lady inside,
And a smile on the face of the tiger."

It is interesting to remember, as an instance of the value
to be attached to the judgments of leaders of thought, that,
when the prestige of Spencer was at its highest, the late Henry
Ward Beecher welcomed hira to America as one of religion's
noblest defenders.

III. — Religion

AND Morality in
Philosophy.

THE Synthetic

The Spencerian dictum, " I discern in matter the promise
and potency of all forms of life," is the thesis of which his
entire philosophy of evolution is but one argument long drawn
out. The original nebular matter arranged and rearranged it-
self in successive combinations of constantly increasing com-

1904]

Herbert Spencer.

579

I
I

plcxity, till it has become, successively, mineral, vegetable,
animal, and finally rational consciousness. Between these grades
of being there is no gulf of essential difference, as there was
no diversity of origin. The activity we call thought is but a
more intricate function of the energy which makes the chemi-
cal particles of oxygen and hydrogen combine to form water.
Evolution, to quote the famous definition, is "an integration of
matter and a concomitant dissipation of motion during which
the matter passes from an indefinite, incoherent homogeneity
to a definite, coherent heterogeneity, during which the retained
motion undergoes a parallel transformation," This view is
laboriously wrought out by a magnificent, long-sustained effort
of synthetic thought, marred very frequently by a daring con-
tempt for logic, and an arbitrary treatment of facts, through the
realms of positive science, geology, physics, biology, psychol-
ogy, into sociology and ethics. The appearance of every being
in the Universe, from mollusk to man, of every form of activ-
ity, from the oyster's absorption of its food to the charitable im-
pulse of the philanthropist, the consciousness of moral obligation
and the foundation of rights, are exhibited as but the various
combinations of matter and material motion.

The simplicity of this conception, the apparent grandeur of
the synthesis, its response to the intellectual craving for unity
of knowledge, its appropriation of the established data of geol-
ogy and astronomy, its harmony with the newly announced
Darwinian theory concerning the origin of animal species,
commended it with irresistible claims to "advanced thought."
Spencer was promoted by acclamation to the primacy among
philosophers. But the stars in their courses fought against
Si sera.

The thinking world was sick of both the blank atheism and
the gross materialism of the eighteenth century. When all was
said and done, Spencer's system came forth from the ordeal of
criticism stripped of its specious disguises, as practical atheism
and unadulterated materialism. Between the man who says
" there is no God " and the one who declares " there is no
God that can be thought of," the difference is not worth observ-
ing. The theory which holds that consciousness and thought
are but varieties of material motion cannot be absolved of
materialism merely by attaching it to the metaphysical doctrine
that the essence of matter is unknowable. The course of sci-

586 Herbert^S^ncer. [Feb.

entific investigation soon brought even such a pronounced
evolutionist as Tyndall to admit that consciousness cannot be
identified with material energy. And this admission broke an
important link in Spencer's chain.

Another point where all Spencer's weakness of method —
arbitrary assumptions, one-sided consideration of facts, and
a priori arrangement — was exposed, was his account of the
origin of religions. There, to the negation of religion which
he contended for in his metaphysics, he added the injury of
explaining all religions as a growth from the. savage's belief in
dreams and his fear of ancestral ghosts. The comparative
study of religions, which was beginning to advance rapidly,
demonstrated that, even from the purely Positivistic point of
view, Spencer's theory was a piece of solemn nonsense ; and
evolutionists themselves soon had come to recognize that
religion has its roots in human reason and has played a pre-
dominant part in the promotion of human progress. A theory
which reduces it to a delusion and allows it no object of rea-
sonable significance could not live in the atmosphere which
characterized the closing decades of the century, with its pro-
nounced trend towards a return to Kant and Hegelian ideal-
ism.

It was in the domain of ethics that sober second thought
pronounced Spencer's collapse to be complete and definitive.
He had undertaken to provide not alone a speculative theory
of the Universe, but also a practical philosophy for the regu- ■
lation of life and morals He even declared that the chief end
and crown of his system should be to establish a new and
more excellent basis for morality. He told the world that, from
the writing of his first essay, in 1842, his " ultimate purpose
lying behind all proi^imate purposes had been that of providing
for the principles of right and wrong, and conduct at large, a
scientific basts." So capital did he consider this part of his
work that, in 1879, when failing health threatened that if he
should leave his task to the last it might never be achieved, he
published his Data of Ethics out of due season, before the
second and third volumes of his Principles of Psychology.
When these latter volumes did come out they excited but Irttle
interest compared with that which their predecessors had pro-
voked. Spencer had appealed to morality, and morality had»
already, given judgment against him.

1904.] HERBERT SPENCER.

Committed as he was to the elimination of all Divine sanction,
direct or indirect, from the problem, he approached it under an
insuperable difficulty. This difficulty was only the beginning.
His fundamental principle that all activity, our moral conscious-
ness as much as everything else, is but a kind of transformed
material motion, carried him to a denial of free-will, and, there-
fore, of moral respansibility. As a logical corollary to his
postulate, that the development of life is the end of evolution,
he set up pleasure and pain as the criterion to distinguish
right from wrong in conduct ; what increases the total of
pleasure is right, what increases the total of pain is wrong.
The necessity of finding the origin of morality in biological
function resulted in his reducing our sense of moral obligation
to a combination of the inherited dread which the savage had
for those who punished him and our delusion that such effects
must still follow certain kinds of conduct, This delusion of
moral obligation, Spencer continued, is something destined to
disappear with the progress of the race.

A false speculative philosophy may long maintain its
ground ; for it has only dialectic criticism to dread, and can-
not be tried by the standard of practical life, fiut an ethical
system must submit to the more easy and conclusive test of
comparison with life ; what would be its consequences, if
adopted as a practical regulative system for the individual and
society ? It was easy to see that the adoption of this theory
would be the speedy abolition of all established morality, and
the reduction of society to anarchy. Just as Fiske endeavored
to save the doctrine of the Unknowable by injecting into that
negation of thought some intelligent content, so, too, first, at a
banquet in New York, in 1882, and afterwards, more elabor-
ately, in his Cosmic PkilosiTphy, he tried to impart some sta-
bility and plausibility to the Spencerian ethics by an interpre-
tation of it connecting the moral law with the Inscrutable
Power on which the Universe depends. But those who knew
their Spencer shrugged their shoulders and smiled — for that
was just what Spencer took care to state he did not do.

IV. — The Idea of Development.
Every one who has, even temporarily, exercised a command-
ing influence over contemporary thought, has derived his power
from the fact that he formulated some dominant idea, or em-

S82 HERBERT SPENCER. ^^^^^ [Fcb.^

bodied some characteristic tendency, of his age. It was so
with Spencer. The idea of development, or, if you will, evolu-
tion, was in the air from the opening of the nineteenth cen-
tury, penetrating everywhere its mental atmosphere. At the
end of the previous century La Place had introduced, in
astronomy, the nebular hypothesis. Cuvier's Essay on the Theory
of the Earth put forward the view of geological evolution,
which Lyell advanced to what is now considered a practical
demonstration. The conjectures of Goethe concerning organic
development received more systematic statement from Laraark,
Grove, and others in biology. In philosophical thought the
Hegelian conception of a world-spirit was a manifestation of
the same tendency. Newman, in his Essay on Development,
introduced it into Christian theology. The craving of the cen-
tury was after some new unification of knowledge. It was
Spencer's fortune to undertake that unification. It was his
misfortune, or his fault, to grievously miscalculate the number
and the relative importance of the potential parts that were to
be grasped and co-ordinated into the mighty whole. He fell
into irremediable error at the outset, in his doctrine of the
Unknowable, by rejecting the indispensable element of union.
Then he exaggerated the importance of the physical sciences,
and misstated the essential problems of the moral life. The
result was an unstable, disproportioned, radically defective
structure that was a mere caricature of the ideal, and broke
down under the test of criticism. Yet, faulty as it is, the
Synthetic Philosophy remains a monumental expression of the
idea which, more than anything else, differentiates our age from
all those that have preceded it. The idea of development is the
prime characteristic of the mental activity of the last century.

In his recently published work, Problems and Persons,* Mr.
Wilfrid Ward has a very thoughtful and suggestive article
(" The Time-Spirit of the Nineteenth Century ") on this sub-
ject The old synthesis of thought that existed in the Middle
Ages — and there has been none since — enthroned theology as
the Queen of the Sciences, in a pre-eminence not of dignity
merely but of absolute authority. The first principles of
theology are supplied by Divine Revelation and, therefore, be-
yond dispute. Supplemented by natural knowledge — chiefly

'' ProbUms and Persons. By Wilfrid Ward, New York and London: Longmans, Green
& Co.

I904.]

Herbert Spender.

585

ancient popular views of the universe and its contents, the
metaphysical and scientific opinions of Aristotle, theories
enshrined in the writings of the Fathers — sometimes like the fly
in amber — these revealed premises yielded to the busy intel-
lect of the Scholastics a body of conclusions which were accepted
as regulative criteria of everything put forth as scientific dis-
covery. At that time, writes Mr. Ward, " overwhelming con-
siderations from faith and sight swept out of view the lesser
evidences and smaller facts apparently inconsistent with the
general trend of events. Historical and physical sciences were
tried at the bar of theology." The old method, he observes,
combined the most critical logic with the utmost credulity as
to facts. It was interminable in its questions, docile in accept-
ing an answer, provided the answer was coherent. But, to-day,
science has broken away from theolog^y, a rebellion which was
powerfully promoted by the condemnation of the Copernican
system. Now, continues Mr. Ward, " scientific knowledge is no
longer sought by the many amid the rays of light which sur-
rounded the chair of the mediaeval doctor of the church of
whom the Liturgy proudly sings : ' In medio ecclesise aperuit
OS ejus et implevit eum Dominus spiritu sapientiae.' Science
now rules in her own Ecclesia. And she has expelled certain
visions very dear to our ancestors and closely entwined round
their religion " !

Though the " new framework " of knowledge, to employ a
phrase which Mr. Ward borrows from Mr. Balfour, has received,
at the hands of Mr. Spencer, a form which is condemned by
Christian faith, there is reason to hope that when it is properly
set forth, it will not only not be inconsistent with, but will
require for its perfect form the truths of Revelation. Some of
its essential features have already begun to receive the recogni-
tion from our apologists and theologians. While maintaining
the supremacy of Revelation and dogma, they are willing
to concede that conclusions deduced from these principles,
through the medium of questionable minor premises derived from
fallible human opinion, by fallible human reasoning, may not,
after all, claim the same unquestioning acceptance as is due to
infallible doctrine. There is much prominence given now to
the long overlooked maxim of St. Thomas : " Since the Divine
Scriptures may be expounded in many ways it is not right to
attach one's self so strictly to any one opinion as still to main-

584

HERBERT Spencer.

[Feb.,

tain it after sure reason has proved the statement supposed I
be contained in Scripture false ; lest on this account Scriptu
be derided by unbelievers." The exegete now entertains the
view that the Bible is not a scientific teacher, and that its quasi-
scientific statements may be considered as a condescension to
ways of thinking that have long since passed away. There is,
if we are to believe Mr, Ward, a movement in thought among
Catholics in France, Germany, England, and America, " which
has been for some years urging, as of vital importance, that
the positive sciences should take their full share in the further
development of theology, in so far as theology touches inciden-
tally those facts of which secular science takes cognizance."
This movement may attain momentum sufficient to carry it intoj
other countries.

The idea of development and organic growth which has I
proved so dynamic in the modern study of history, biology,
and sociology, since its introduction into theology by Cardinal
Newman and his disciples has received much attention. In thci
dominion of theology, however, it is to be applied with prudent
reserve, as recent events declare, as it must respect the line of
demarcation which divides the human, changeable, and relative
from the immutable and Divine.

1904] Catholic Ef^ gland tn the Olden

*A,

CATHOLIC ENGLAND IN THE OLDEN TIME.

BY WILLIAM SETON. LL.D.

"... I cannot but consider a great error, both historically and ecclesiastically, the
Assumption tiiat the Middle Ages are the model lime of Christianity," — Essay on the Spintual
Li/t of Afeditrval England, by the Rev. J. B. Dalgaims, Priest of the Oratory, p. i. prefixed to
" The Scale of Perfection." by Walter Hilton,

ENGLAND five centuries ago was a more picturesque
country than it is to-day. Its rivers then flowed
brimful of water uncontaminated by the refuse of
factory or coal mine ; there were miles and
miles of woodland where oak-trees grew, which
when they were little trees had seen the Roman legions go by,
and here and there the sunbeams streaming down through their
branches lit up some old-time Roman road which now was
called the king's highway ; and 'tis as well for the traveller not
to be found in these lonesome regions after dark, for then the
wolves come out of their dens and so do the robbers.

In the part of England called Shropshire, and in the heart
of one of these solitudes, there dwelt Anno Domini 1400 a
hermit named Ethelwald. He was pretty old, past ninety, yet
except for his bald head and snow-white beard you might have
taken him to be much younger. Here let us say that Ethel-
wald, like other hermits, was a privileged character and might
dwell in the forest unmolested. The cave in which he made
his home, and where he said his Psalter daily, was occasionally
visited by villeins and other folk from the manors of Shrop-
shire, who brought him cheese and milk and fruits, and some-
times a new hood when the old one was giving out, while the
skins for his bed were gifts from the free and daring outlaws —
the Robin Hoods, who owned no lord except Jehovah. And in
return for these good things the hermit would mend the shoes
for the poor folk who came to his cave, for he was not a bad
cobbler, and he might say with truth, " from the time when I
first came into this desert place I have never spent a day with-
out doing something with my hands." • Yet it must be said
that all who pretended to lead a hermit's life in those days

"* Mertt Catholiti, by Kenelm Digby, Book X., chap. xx. p. 502,
VOL. LXXVIir. — 38

Catholic Evglasd in the Olden Time. [Feb.,

Peasants laboring to drive a Load Up-hill.

were not true hermits. There were impostors among them,
who left their retreats to go begging by the alehouse. But
Ethelwald had obtained the sanction of his bishop to lead the
life he led, and he observed the rules of poverty, chastity, and
obedience.*

One morning towards the end of October there came to his
rocky abode a youth, who evidently, from his sheepskin garb
and mien, did not belong to the knightly class. No Norman
words were in his speech and his breath was short, for he had
run several miles. His name was Wat Tyler, a grandson of the
arch- rebel who had been struck from his horse and killed by
Walworth, mayor of London, in the great uprising of the serfs
in 1381.

" Pray, what has befallen you ? " inquired Ethelwald, putting
down the shoe he was mending. " You do wear a troubled
look."

"To confess the truth, good father," answered Tyler, who
knew the hermit, *' I was sent by my master, Baron de
Courtenay, to help build a bridge over Wolfs Run, for the old
bridge has been carried away by a freshet, and hard by me
lay a monk's saddle-bags; the monk's mule was browsing half

•J. J. Jusserand : English Wayfaring Life in the Middle Ages, pp. 139-140, Trans-
lated from the French by Lucy T. Smith.

^1904.] Catholic England in the Olden Time. 587

a mile away and the holy man was superintending our work.
And of a sudden, while his eyes were turned in the other
direction, it did come over me to make for the forest with his
saddle-bags."

" Witless wight, the deed may cost you your life," said
Ethelwald. " You will be hunted like a wolf, and you know
that to steal anything worth more than twelve pence is punibhed
by hanging; and surely what you have stolen is worth more
than twelve pence."*

" I do not gainsay what you tell me," answered Tyler.
' But now, to speak out all that 's in my heart. let me own
that I have plighted my troth to a maiden named Mary Gower,
the daughter of a miller, who lives at Oakham, a village not
far from Baron de Courtenay's manor ; and there may be
treasure of some kind in these saddle bags, enough to set me
up in some work that is better than digging and ploughing
for Baron de Courtenay ; aye, why might I not by a cunning
disguise turn to be an herb doctor ? And I might then wed
and give my Mary a snug home."

" You turn into an herb doctor ! " exclaimed the hermit,
laughing outright; he had not laughed so heartily in a twelve-
month. Then his countenance suddenly becomfng grave, and
lifting his forefinger : " Let me tell you, youthful sinner, that
building a bridge as well as repairing a road is considered a
pious and meritorious work before God ; and two centuries ago
a religious order was founded on the Continent {it docs not
exist here) called ' Les freres pontifes' (or Bridge Friars), whose
duty it is to make and repair bridges, and the members of this
order have built, I am told, a fine bridge across the river
Rhone by the town of Avignon. f And did not our bishop a
few weeks ago grant forty days indulgence to all who would
draw from the treasure that God has given them, valuable and
charitable aid toward the building of this very bridgu where
you were put to work ? " J

"Verily, I do now half regret stealing the saddle bags,"
spoke Tyler in a penitent voice. "And if I am chased where
had I best flee to i> "

" Make for St. Alban's Church," answered the hetmit.
" 'Tis only nine or ten miles away; for a church, you know,

• Jusierand, English Wayfaring Lift in tht Middle Agts. p. asS- Mbid., pp. 38-39.

I Ibid,, p. 44.

588 Catholic England in the Olden Time. [Feb.,

is a sacred place and whosoever crosses its threshold is under
God's protection. All you must do is to bang on the church
door and in a moment it will fly open ; then the bell will be
rung, and having confessed to the priest your thefc of the
saddle-bags, you will be safe ; even the king dare not drag
you out of that sanctuary." •

" 'Tis what I'll do, and many thanks for your wise coun-
sel," said Tyler. "But hark! I hear footsteps. Who is
coming ? "

In another moment a short, round-shouldered individual,
with a pack on his back, made his appearance.

"Ah! 'tis my friend the pedlar," said Ethelwald. "And
his coming is always welcome, for he brings news of what is
going on in other parts of the realm." Then, speaking to him-
self, " Aye, pedlars and minstrels who journey hither and
thither along the highways are useful persons, for they do
serve as connecting links between the north and the south, the
cast and the west ; and only for these tramps the poor folk,
who are bound to the soil, would live in ignorance of what is
going on beyond their narrow horizon." f Then, addressing
the pedlar, " Where do you come from now, Richard ? "

" From Colchester, in Essex," replied the other, unfastening
his pack. " I turned aside from the highway to make you a
visit. But I'm bound for the goose market at Amersham ; it
begins next week. I may first, however, go to see the Mystery
Play at Thornly Abbey, near to Evesham ; it will last only
one day."

"A goose market at Amersham," murmured Wat Tyler.
"Like enough my Mary will be there with geese to sell."

" Well, I have mended the shoes you left here three months
ago," continued the hermit. "And here they be. But now
tell how fares the world in far ofT Essex ? "

"Well, I did hear that the 'Poor Priests' of Wycliffe— or
Lollards, as they do be commonly called — by their anti-eccle-

• Jusscrand, English Wayfaring Lije in the Middle Ages, pp. 152-153.

Note. — We may reasonably believe that the right of sanctuary often led to abuses. A
murderer, if he were able to reach a church, was perfectly safe. There he might make terms
trith the king's officers. Then, putting on a penitent's garb and witli a cross in his hand, he
vas let loose on the highway, under oath to go to the nearest port and sail lo other laads. But
" the enraged populace used sometimes to lynch these men as soon as they left the church and
.appeared on the high road, with the cross and garb of the penitent." — George Macaulay
Trevelyan, Engiand in the Age of Wycliffe, pp. 92-93,

Mbid., Introduction, pp. 30-31.

1904.] Catholic England in the Olden Time. 589

siastical talk are gaining not a few followers among the laity,"*
answered the pedlar.

" Bad news," said the hermit, shaking his head.

" And the nobles in Essex and the other counties I passed
through are having grander festivities and tournaments than
ever before. They do seem to have no end of money, while

i' -r

PUOUGHaNG IN THE Ol.DEN TiME,

the poor do be in great want; and only for the monks in the
monasteries, who do care for the hungry ones that flock to
their gates and strive to appease their discontent, there might
mayhap be another uprising like the one I've heard you tell
of, when the whole kingdom was convulsed and the rebels
took London."

"Alas! alas 1 " sighed the hermit, "our licentious court is
making its vices felt far and wide among the nobles and gen-
try; and unless this terrible worldliness, which is sapping the
first principles of Christian life among them, is checked, there
may come ere long — especially with a willing king to lead the
way — a great apostasy from the church." f

"Well, I did hear a heart-moving sermon the Sunday afore
I left Colchester," went on the pedlar, " and at the end of it
the preacher did say: 'All, poor and rich, high and low,
noble and simple, have sprung from a common stock and are
children ol a common father, Adam. God did not create a
golden Adam from whom the nobles are descended, nor a sil-
ver Adam from whom have come the rich, and another, a clay
Adam, from whom are the poor ; but all — nobles, rich, and
poor — have one common father, made out of the dust of the
earth." J Having spoken these words from the sermon, he

• F. A. Gasquet, O.S.B.. Henry VIII. and the En^iih Monoittritt. Vul. i. p. 50.
\ Rev. J. B. Dalgairas, Essay on the Spiritual Lift tf MtditeviU England.
t Words from a sermon preached in 1400, Dom Gasquet, Tht Eve of tht Reformation,
p. 354.

590 Ca tholic England in the Olden Time. [Feb ,

drew on the old shoes which Ethelwald had mended, then
asked if he might not stretch himself on the hermit's deer-
skin couch and get a few winks of sleep, " For in the stable
of the inn where I tarried last night," said the pedlar, "I could
not rest over-soundly, for the donkeys and mules, which took
up the best part of it, did kick and bray till past midnight."

" Humph ! I ween from all I hear that you did not lose
m ich by not having a bed in the house," put in Tyler.

" Aye," returned the pedlar, " the fleas that do dwell in
the mangers are not to me so worrying as the fleas in the
beds, and moreover I did save money by lying among the
cattte. It is true King Edward IIL did promulgate a statute

constrain hostlers to put an end to the ' great and out-
l^ous cost of victuals kept in all the realm by innkeepers
, . ; to the great detriment of the people travelling across
the r^alm.' But. alas! little good has come to pedlars and
puckmen and small land-owners from King Edward the Third's
tUtute. The very poor and the very rich may get lodging at
Ih* tnonasteries ; but the like of me must hobnob with the
lltnkevpor's tlcas." •

With this he stretched himself out on the deer skins; and
lU'W while he anored for a quarter of an hour, Wat Tyler could
not resist the temptation to open the monk's saddle-bags and
»«« what they might contain. But in place of money, the first
thing which rolled out was a little book (in manuscript, for I
printing was not invented till 1440), which he handed to the
hermit. "For I ken no letter," he said; "but you can read
and tell me what it is."

*' Oh, 'tis a copy of Dives et Pauper" \ said Ethelwald, "a
welUknown manual for religious instruction, which every priest
lioth mike use of. It urges the poor folk to attend to the
Ma^s and God's word spoken Crom the pulpit ; and mark yon
welh it does tell folk that the crucifix itself is not to be wor-
shipped These are the very words of Dives et Pauper: 'Thou
ihalt kneel, if thou wilt, before the image, but not to the image.*
Thtt book says, too : ' Since God's word is life and salvation
of m tn's soul, all those that hinder them that have authority
of Gid and by orderi taken to preach and teach, from preach-
ing and teaching G>d's word and God's law, are man-slayers
ghostly.'"

* Juiterantl, Eitgluk Wayfjring Lije in tkt Middle Ages, p. ia6.
t Dom Gatquet, Tht Eve of tkt Reformation, pp. 383-984.

1904.] Catholic England in the Olden Time. 591

\^-

~-^i

Reapers.

" Aye, aye," said Tyler, " what that book says I have
heard the priest in our hamlet tell us more than once. And
at 'the creeping to the cross' on last Good Friday he did say
and repeat that the cross we do creep to we do not worship ;
for the carved image made by the carpenter is not Christ: we
are to kiss and reverence the image for that which it represents."

*' And could you read," pursued the hermit, " you would
find that this little manual impresses on you the wickedness of
theft — a sin which you have this day committed."

" I do indeed repent of what I have done to- day," answered
Tyler, " and my dreams will be bad dreams until I have found
a way to return to the monk his saddle bags."

"Trust me to do that for you," said Ethelwald.

" But breathe not a word that I am to become an herb doctor,"
went on the youth. '* I dare never go back to the manor, but
I '11 take a thousand risks to meet Mary Gower at the goose
market, for I doubt not but she '11 be there."

" And I shall pray that all may go well with you," said
the hermit.

" And I 'm the one who can so disguise you that your own
mother would never know you for her son," spoke the pedlar,
waking up and rubbing his eyes. With this he drew his pack
towards him, and opening it took out a bundle of wigs of
various colors. Presently the hermit gave another hearty laugh
and owned that Tyler was most cunningly disguised, for he
had put on his pate a huge red wig with ringlets streaming
down to his shoulders. " And I Ml teach you how to cry out
the different herbs for worms, and for stone, and for small-pox,"
added the pedlar.

" You and I are friends for life," returned the youth, grasp*
ing his hand. " And may I some day be able to show my
gratitude."

" Do not thank me," said the pedlar ; " for the grandson
of Wat Tyler, the rebel leader, I am willing to do anything."

Let us now change the scene. Oakham, the home of Mary
Gower, the miller's daughter, is an old hamlet dating back to
Saxon times, and there are not many churches prettier than
St. Dunstan's Church. To the poor people who for generations
have lived and died within sound of its church bell, it ha»;
been the brightest spot in the landscape — the very pride of
their hearts. In former centuries the churches were generally
built and embellished by the powerful nobles ; but by the year
1400 this had come to be the work of the people.* It wa»
they who put in the stained windows, and in this church of St.
Dunstan's at Oakham we see below a window in the north
aisle these words : " Ex sumptibus sororum hujus parochiae " g
while under another window is written: " Ex sumptibus uxorum."t
And it is interesting to know that while the bishop could in-
terfere in theory, he wisely allowed the pastor and his flock to
carry on the affairs of the parish, and adults of both sexes had
a voice in this good work, f

In those days the church was indeed the centre and soul of
village life ; ^ and connected with the church of Oakham was a
club-house (sometimes cared for by a woman) where the peo-
ple met to enjoy themselves ; and while the young folk danced
and bowled, the elders sat on the benches, sipping ale and
wishing that they were young again. || Of course, human
nature being what it is, there were scandals and disagreements
in those old-time parishes which to-day would lead to trials in
the law courts; and when this occurred, the pastor and a jury
of four would meet in council and endeavor to put an end to
the trouble.^ From the pulpit too on Sundays the last wills
and testaments of deceased parishioners were made known, and
all who had claims against the dead person were bid to come
forth and make good their claims. And when anybody was
known not to pay his debts, this fact was also proclaimed
from the pulpit.** On the parish bede-roll we likewise find a

• Dom Gftsquet, Tht Evt 0/ the Rtformation, p, 337. t Ibid., note p. 337.

%Ibid., p. 339. $ Ibid., p. 345, II Ibid., pp. 341-347. If Ibid., p. 347.

•• Ibid,, p. 350.

1904.] Catholic England in the Olden time. 593

list of the benefactors of the church ; and for them the prayers
of the congregation are asked; and the very humblest villein
was anxious to appear on the bede-roll, so that his memory
might be kept green and his soul prayed for*

Let us also observe that connected with St. Dunstan's
Church (it was the same in other parishes) was a brotherhood
which was authorized to beg for whatever might be necessary
to keep the building in repair. If the roof or the steeple
needed mending, or if there were not enough candles for the
statues of the different saints^ — St. Ann's light, St. Catherine's
light, St. John's light — the members of the brotherhood would
put on their ' scutchons,' or badges, and sally forth to beg.
And the bede-roll tells us that one parishioner left four cows
to the brotherhood, so as to free the parish for all time from
the cost of procuring the big Easter candle.f The money thus
collected was handed over to the church wardens; and in this
parish of St. Dunstan there were eight separate accounts kept
by the wardens, one of the accounts being for the Peter's
pence, I

At that period, although books were scarce, the people
were not so ignorant as we might imagine. Every priest was
in duty bound to give his flock four times a year an instruc-
tion in the articles of the Creed, the Ten Commandments, the
seven deadly sins, and the seven sacraments ; and he had a
manual in manuscript which contained many homely talks on
these subjects,"^ and one of these talks especially urged fathers
and mothers to look well after their little ones and to teach
them how to pray ; " for the young cock croweth as he doth
hear and learn of the old cock."

Built close up against the south wall of the church at Oak-
ham was a wooden hut twelve feet long, ten feet high, and eight
feet broad. Its sides were plastered with mud, the roof was
thatched, and carved above the little door, which was tightly closed
and never opened, were the words : *' Caritas Christi urget nos,"

Now, in this narrow space lived two sisters, Eleanor and
Beatrice, the daughters of Sir William de Colyford. They were
anchoresses, who had first asked leave of their bishop to lead
this secluded life. Their furniture consisted of two square
stones on which to sit, while a log of wood served as a pillar
for both ; and the two little windows were called squints. One

•Dom Gasquet, p. 341. t/W</„p. 347. t/W(f.,p. 338. ji/jiV., pp. aBo-aSa.

\NGLANi

THE ULDEN TIME, [Feb..

c «fBied oo the God's acre, and through this window was
i tihe food for the two anchoresses ; while the other
^ above which hung a crucifix and which looked into the
^ was called the " sacrament- squint," for it was through
Mfliag— on a long- handled spoon — that the Blessed Sac-
rit WB given to them ; and following the practice of those
y^tpf made fifteen Communions during the year. The

rf^l

■i^w

Feeding the Swine.

m$^n they observed were the same as the hermits' rules,
IMMty. poverty, chastity, and obedience. But unlike hermits,
|b^ anchoresses took a vow never to quit their cell, which was
^0)iRmonly called an anchor hold.*

The habit worn by Beatrice and Eleanor was a plain black
vit«ss with a black veil, their hair was cut short, and their
oaly companion was a cat. And here let us say that ancho-
fMBCS were not bound to perpetual silence, unless they took a
special vow, which these sisters had not done.

But albeit so narrowly confined, time did not hang heavily
on their hands. While the secret of their life was prayer, their
hands were busy making church vestments and clothes for the
poor. But their sewing and their prayers were occasionally
interrupted by some voice at the squint which opened on the
God's acre, saying, " Ghostly sisters in Christ Jesus, I pray ye
listen." It was some troubled soul who had come to seek con-
solation; and while Beatrice and Eleanor did strictly observe
the rule of conduct laid down in the " Ancren Riwle " (a work
composed by an unknown Dominican),t namely, not to become

*Sct llie inierciting work Anchortsses of tht Wtit.hy Francesco M. Steele, introdacnon,
pp. a^.

t The Ancren Rlwle ; translated from semi-Saxon MS. of the thirteenth ceotury by James
Morton, vicar of Holbench, 1853. Camden Society.

I904..

rATMOLIC ENGLAND TN THE OLDEN TIME. 595

I
I

babbling, gossiping anchoresses, they were never backward in
giving good counsel to those who asked for it. But it is only
true to add that their ears sometimes took in more than they
cared to hear ; for it was an age when there were no news-
papers, and this did incline folks to be more communicative by
word of mouth ; talking took the place of reading, and thus
the sisteis were made the unwilling depositaries of all the
gossip of the hamlet of Oakham

One morning toward the end of October, in this year of
our Lord 1400, there came to their anchor-hold a comely
maiden with big blue ^y^s and golden hair which reached to her
waist, "Ghostly sisters," spoke Mary Gower, " I am betrothed
to a villein who has escaped from Baron de Courtenay's manor.
My father does urge me to give my hand to another young
man who is a freeholder and works in our mill; but my heart
is not so inclined, and I do be much tempted to leave my
home and to seek him whom my heart is turned towards. His
name is Wat Tyler. Pray, ghostly sisters, give me wise coun-
sel in this matter."

" Nay, child," answered Eleanor, who had come to the
squint, "go not away from home all by yourself. The forest
and the roads do be infested by robbers and wild beasts. It
has already been told me that this youth, whom you love, when
he was sent to mike a new bridge at Wolf's Run, did wickedly
make off with a monk's saddle-bags — the very monk who was
superintending the work. Now, if your lover is caught by
the sheriff — and the sherifT will hunt him like a wolf — his fate
is the gibbet."

"Alas! alas! what am I to do?" sobbed Mary, drawing her
sleeve across her eyes.

"Well, do not cry," continued Eleanor, "He is not caught
yet. The forest has many places in which to hide. But go
not yourself to seek him. Be patient and pray."

"And at the worst," put in Beatrice, speaking over her
sister's shoulder, " he can make for the nearest church, and
once within its sanctuary he will be safe. There has been
lying here in our own Church of St. Dunstan an outlaw for six
months past, and I do see him daily at Mass when I look
through the other squint."

"And now, my child/' continued Eleanor, "let me tell you
something else about your lover which I did hear last evening;

'twas revealed to me by a trusty wayfarer and only to you

would I repeat it. Wat Tyler is to be at the goose market at

Amersham next week. He will be cunningly disguised, but

you will know him. Now you go there too with a flock of^

geese and bid him flee without delay to the church in that

village."

" Seeking sanctuary there may save his life," said Mary,

" but 'twill not make me his wife." ^

" Well, you know that he can then bargain with the king's

officers to leave the kingdom, and he will thus escape the

gibbet. And you may follow him to a strange country — I will

L procure you the means to do it — and there you and he may wed."

L " Follow him to a strange country — a strange country,"

^^^ ^^^ murmured Mary. Then aloud:

^^^B ^^1^^^ "Ghostly sister," she said, *' your

^^B ^^J^l> wise words have soothed me

^^■' ifiT^yTTjlik somewhat, but I do see dark

r w ^^^^1v #T*Hyj clouds before me ; I must pray,

I must pray not to despair."

Then thrusting her freckled arm

through the squint, she shook

each of the sisters by the hand

and went away. M

And now while Mary Gower

goes home to count her father's

geese and to see how many

she may drive to the goose

market, Wat Tyler and the

pedlar are seated in front of

Woman on Hosseback.-chaucek's ^n alehouse at a point where
Wife of Baths Tale. ,

the highway divides; one branch

running east and another branch running north, and the spot is
known as Job's Retreat. Like other wayside alehouses in 1400,
it is a one-story building with a long, projecting pole hang-
ing half way across the road; and there is a tuft of leaves
at the far end of the pole; this being the sign of an alehouse.*
" I do declare," said the pedlar, as he held up his mug for
more ale, — "I do declare your own mother wouldn't know you
now, rigged out in a long green coat and with an elegant red

wig on your pate."

• Jusserand. En^isA Wayfaring Lift in tkt Middle Agtt, p. ijj.

1904] Catholic England in th^ Olden tlme. 597

"I'm as handsome as a knight," answered Tyler; "where is
my sword ? Hurrah for Job's Retreat ! And is n't this a
cheery spot to sit and watch the world go by ? We 've been
sitting here two hours drinking ale, and still the folks do be
going and going. Pray, where be they all going to ? "

" To the Mystery Play at Evesham, which is twenty miles
away; and the play begins day after to-morrow," answered the
pedlar.

I yitt" Mayhaps my darling Mary Gower may be there," said
Tyler.
j "Well.j'tis not the safest place for you and she to meet.

^/r>:

The Olu-Time Alehouse.

Wait for the goose market at Amersham next week. By that
time I '11 have taught you your lesson pretty thoroughly, and
everybody will vow that you are the greatest herb doctor in
the kingdom."

While they were thus talking and sipping mug after mug of
ale, it was indeed interesting to watch the many people of
diflferent stations in life going past. Some were on foot; some
were in carts, which then were merely rude wooden boxes
borne on two wheels ; and owing to the very rough roads of
that age the wheels were protected by huge nails with extremely
prominent heads, and this made them look not unlike cog-
wheels.* Some of the women on horseback were riding side-
ways ; others were seated astride like men ; f and one and all of
every degree were as merry as merry could be.

But space will not permit us to accompany them to the
Mystery Play at Evesham, the title of which is " The Rise and
Fall of Anti-Christ." It had only recently been translated from
the German, and it is one of the finest specimens of the reli-
gious drama produced in the Middle Ages.f We merely

• Juss«rand, English W'^yfarin^ Lift in the AtiJdli Ages, p. 90. f Ibid,, p, 104,

t Janssen, History o/tht Gtrwunn PeoJ>U at tht Clou of the MidJU Ages, vol. i. p. 270.

598 Catholic England in the Olden Time. ^ [Feb.,

Bear-Baiting at the Cibcus.

observe of all the Mystery Plays, that the actors commenced
by chanting these words : " Let us pray the Holy Spirit to
preserve us in the faith until we leave this vale of tears for
our true home. Kyrie eleison."* And, as Dom Gasquet tells
us in The Eve of the Reformation, pp. 316-317, these religious
plays did vividly impress on the unlettered folk the chief
events not only of the life of our Saviour, but also the events-
related in the Old Testament: the Creation, the story of Noe,
the sacrifice of Isaac, etc., etc.; so that the most ignorant
person might know a good deal of the Bible.

But to come now to the Amersham goose market, 'let us
say that like all markets in those days it was an occasion not
only for buying and selling, but likewise for hearty enjoyment
And as feather beds were universal, the number of geese this
day at Amersham could hardly be counted. And many of
them had come a long distance. But they were not over-tired,
for a goose driven with care might arrive in Shropshire from
the borders of Scotland, and be little the worse for the jour-
ney. The noise which their cackling made was deafening ;
'twas so loud that you could barely hear the church bell ring-
ing for Mass. Then, when Mass was ended, the business and
the fun at Amersham began in earnest; for the time being
every trouble was forgotten and countless happy voices min-
gled with the cackling of the geese.

Here let us observe that if at this period there was a good
deal of hardship and poverty in England, yet there was not

* Janssen, History of the German People at the Close of the Middle Ages, vol i. p. 274.

I904.

\7im

\DEl

599

what we in our day call pauperism. It is true that too many
of the nobles were over-proud and given up to luxury, and
not averse to hanging those beneath them for trifling offences.
Nevertheless, the boundary between class and class was no
longer impassable; the terrible uprising of the poor people in
13S1 was not forgotten. The villein by learning a craft was
now able to get up in the world ; and many villeins were
gradually becoming land owners ; while the artisans were
becoming small contractors. Indeed, for men who were really
willing to work, this age might be called the golden age.*

Despite, therefore, of the poverty which did oppress not a
few of them, and of a good deal of downright brutality on
the part of the nobles, the buyers and sellers and the merry-
makers, who had come together at this goose market, bore
their ills very lightly. Hitched to a post at the church door
stood a mule carrying a monk's mattress and saddle-bags
('twas the same good monk, who had now got his saddle-bags
back), while resting on the church steps was a dusty, footsore
pilgrim on his way to Rome and the Holy Land ; and the
pilgrim was in need of rest, for he had trudged all the way
from Northumberland. But fag-
ged and poor though he was, there
was not a happier being at Amer-
sham, for the dream of his youth
had been to lay eyes on Jerusalem
and Bethlehem and Nazareth, and
thanks to the last will and testa-
ment of a certain rich merchant!
enough money had been left to
defray the cost of a poor person's
journey to Palestine; and he had.-^^^^
been chosen to make the pilgrim-
age.t

Presently the pilgrim got up and, passing through the God's
acre, he entered the broad meadow where the fair was just
beginning. The first person that attracted his attention was a
minstrel, or gleeman, as he was commonly called ; and a min-
strel in the Middle Ages was an important personage. No

• Doin Gosquci, Tkt Eve of the Re/ormatittn , pp. 356-365 : " The town and country guilds
obviated paupensin. They covered the field of Christian charity." Under Henry Vllt.
parliament took possession of all (hr property of the guilds.

^ Hid., p, 4x6.

tnC

An Ancient Filcrim.

6oo Catholic England in the Olden Time. [Feb.,

theatres then existed and the nobles had few better distractions
(when they were not fighting the French or among themselves)
than to listen to the gleeman recite some tale of King Arthur,
or play on the vielle, which was a kind of fiddle,* while the
people — the toiling, freedom-loving people — did love to hear
him tell again the story of Robin Hood, whose heart had been
with the poor, downtrodden Saxon. And let us say that the
king's officers were generally on the lookout on these occa-
sions, lest under the color of song or story the minstrel should
give voice to over-liberal sentiments, and thus encourage the
laborers to demand more privileges than they had already
wrung from the upper class.f

The gleeman whom the pilgrim was watching was playing
on his instrument with might and main, and around him stood
a score of young men and maidens, all eager for a dance;
their heads and arms were swaying to and fro to mark time
with the music. But the dance did not begin, for the best
dancer of them all was not present, and more than one voice
was calling for Mary Gower, the miller's daughter from
Oakham.

Well, yonder she is at the far end of the meadow.

" My child," spoke the monk with whom she is talking, " I
do willingly forgive your lover for running off with my saddle-
bags, which Ethel wald, the hermit, has managed to restore to
me; and I have resolved that if it is in my power to save him,
he shall not be punished for the theft. But Wat Tyler, you
know, is a villein bound to the soil; his name, moreover, is
against him, for he is a grandson of the arch- rebel, Wat Tyler,
and Baron de Courtenay vows that he will pursue him and
hang him, not for what he did to me, but as a lesson to the
other villeins on his manor."

" Well, only for his grandfather's dauntless spirit in the
great uprising twenty years ago, there would not be to-day so
many freeholders in the kingdom," answered Mary Gower.
** Aye, 'tis a name to be proud of, and woe, woe to Baron
de Courtenay if ray Wat Tyler's is — " Here she broke down
and began to cry.

"Stop! Your tears may be his ruin; they may put your
betrothed in danger of his life," said the monk in an under-
tone. " The king's officers, no doubt, have their eyes on you.

'Jusserand, EngJUh Wayfaring Lift in tht Middle Agis, pp. 195-196. \lild., p. ao6.

1904-] Catholic England in the olden Time.

They know that you and Wat Tyler are pledged to wed.
Stop crying, I beg you." This was wise advice, and Mary
obeyed.

Then, striving hard to look cheerful, " Happily the church
is very near," she said; "and he is fleet as a deer, and he
can find sanctuary there."

" Yes, yes, so he can," pursued the monk in an undertone.
*' So keep a smiling face and let us go listen to the herb
doctor over there. He has already a large audience ; he can
cure every ailment. Come."

In a few minutes the monk was deeply interested in what
the herb doctor, or herbalist, as he was commonly called, was
saying. But Mary could not conceal her agitation. Did she
recognize her lover's voice? He was standing on the stump
of a tree, and spread out on the ground below him was a
piece of cloth, on which were displayed very many different
herbs, a certain cure for as many bodily ills.

" My good friends," he was saying, " I will teach you now
a proper cure for small-pox if you will listen. Will you
listen ? Take off your caps. Give ear ; . . . look at this
herb." •

Here let us say that we may reasonably believe that, only
for Mary Gower, Wat Tyler might have lived many a long
year to sell his medicines in different parts of the realm, and
he and she might have dwelt long and happily together as
man and wife. But Mary immediately recognized his voice,
and he too must have betrayed his feelings when his eyes
rested on her. One of the king's officers shrewdly guessed
the cause of her emotion ; and there was more than one officer
on the lookout. Presently the sheriff sprang up behind the
herb doctor, and jerking off his long, red wig, the runaway
villein and thief stood revealed to the crowd. But a pedlar,
who chanced to be close by, in an instant seized the sheriff's
legs with the grip of a bull-dog, and in a moment the confu-
sion and uproar became indescribable. The church was not a
quarter of a mile away. "Run, run for the church!" cried a
hundred voices. " Run, run I " And had there been only one
bailiff at the goose market, all would have ended well for Wat
Tyler ; the sanctuary would have been gained in time. But
too many bailiffs were closing in on him, and

•Jusserand, English Wayfaring Lift in tfu Middle Agts, p. 179.
VrtL. LXXVIII. — 39

1904.] Professor Harnack and the Gospel. 603

PROFESSOR HARNACK AND THE GOSPEL.

BY REVEREND FATHER CUTHBERT. O.S.F.C.

'E pass now to Professor Harnack's second aspect
JPSJFMOeI of the Gospel.

■ HIrI ^^ ^^^ whole message of Jesus Christ can be

L^^^^Ji^w summed up in the announcement of a direct
and unique relationship between God and the
soul, so also, he says, it can be summed up again in the idea
of the Fatherhood of God and the infinite value of the human
soul. And it is in this idea that he discovers the clearest and
most direct significance of our Lord's message. "To our
modern way of thinking and feeling," he tells us, "Christ's
message appears in the clearest and most direct h'ght when
grasped in connection with the idea of God the Father and the
infinite value of the human soul. Here the elements which I
would describe as the restful and rest-giving in Jesus' message,
and which are comprehended in the idea of our being children
of God, find expression." He goes on to say: "The fact that
the whole of Jesus' message may be reduced to these two
heads — God the Father and the human soul so ennobled that it
can and does unite with him — shows that the Gospel is in no-
wise a positive religion like the rest ; that it contains no
statutory or particularistic elements; that it is, therefore,
religion itself. It is superior to all antithesis and tension
between this world and a world to come, between reason and
ecstasy, between work and isolation from the world, between
Judaism and Hellenism. It can dominate them all, and there is
no factor of earthly life to which it is confined or necessarily
tied down." •

Did this passage stand by itself we could unhesitatingly
accept it as the utterance of a Catholic mind. In a sense the
whole Gospel may be said to centre the revelation of the
Fatherhood of God ; and the ultimate expression of the relig-
ious spirit may be summed up in the opening words of the
Lord's Prayer: Our Father who art in heaven.

•Lect. IV.. p. 63.

604 Professor Harnack and the gospel. [Feb.,

When man realizes the truth contained in these words and
accepts them as the measure of his own h"fe, he can go no
further; he has attained to perfect religion. And in the
realization of the Fatherhood of God, the soul comes to under-
stand its own immense value; it finds itself raised above mere
earthly issues and conditions, and all that is merely temporal
falls into a secondary place in its scheme of life. If it seeks
for temporal things, it is only because on this earth certain
temporal things are needful; but it is in the eternal things that
the soul finds its true interest and pleasure. Moreover, the
soul which attains to ihis higher plane of existence is thereby
taken out of the ordinary antitheses and contradictions which
enter into the world's life. In the Gospel there is in truth
neither Greek nor Jew, neither lord nor servant, neither learned
nor ignorant. These terms imply purely temporal obstructions.
But the Gospel deals with the eternal in man; it values a man
us he stands before God, not as he stands before the world.
And the man who truly realizes in himself the message of the
Gospel is thereby raised above the plane of the world's
ordinary existence. The failure to recognize this fact is often
ludicrously manifested in the way some writers treat of the
Uvea of certain saints. Of late years there has been a con-
•IdcrAble cult of St. Francis of Assisi ; and a great deal of mere
•lierijy has been displayed in setting him forth as a great
■ooiiit reformer. In a sense he was ; but not in the sense in
which the term is sometimes applied to him. To listen to some
(i( liJH eulogists one would conclude that St. Francis was a far-
nr.niiig economist with designs on the feudal system ; whereas in
triilh St. Francis was blissfully indifferent to economic and
|((illtlciU systems. Had he been called upon to decide the
iiirrita of the rival claims between feudalism and the new
ihrn<u:racy, he would have certainly asked: "What have I to
i\ii with your systems? Cannot you live in peace in spite of
(f'our nyvtems ? "

The same might be said of our Lord Himself. He rigidly
kept himself apart from merely temporal issues. "Give to
Ctf^Hiir the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that ■
AID (\mV%*' — what does this mean but that our Lord left the
world to look after its own merely temporal concerns, whilst
lie directed man's attention to what is eternal ?

lit the case of St. Francis as well as in the case of our Lord

1904.] Professor Harnack and the Gospel. 605

Himself, momentous changes followed even in the world's
temporal policy and habits of life. The Gospel by transform-
ing the lives of the early Christians, and later on of the
Franciscans, did indirectly affect the world at large and its
policy and institutions. In giving to God the things that are
God's, the Christians necessarily limited the jurisdiction claimed
by Caesar; the early Franciscans, with their passionate
sympathy with the suffering and oppressed, largely contributed
to the final disappearance of corrupt feudalism and to the
establishment of the new democracy. But that only shows how
indissolubly connected all human institutions are with the
eternal principles of right and wrong.

The point I wish to make here is that the Gospel is directly
and essentially concerned with the eternal destiny of man, and
not with anything merely temporal; it aflfects temporal things
only indirectly, inasmuch as there can be no absolute isolation
of the temporal from the eternal. In other words, the Gospel
views life from a higher plane than that on which the ordinary
interests and ambitions of the world have play; it acts on the
world from above. In this sense it is superior to the particu-
laristic elements in the world's life, and to all its antitheses and
tensions. At the same time, whilst of its own nature superior
to the things of this temporal life, religion cannot ignore them.
These temporal things may be essentially evil either in character
or in tendency, and religion then has to denounce them ; or
they may bs within their own sphere quite lawful — adumbrations
in time of eternal realities. In this latter case the things of
this world may be made to subserve eternal truth by way of
symbolism. Thus " marrying and giving in marriage " are de-
clared in the Gospel to belong to the temporal order of things,
yet nevertheless Christ conferred a sacramental dignity on
marriage, making it symbolical of a higher and eternal love.

In like manner the world's philosophies are but of temporal
value in themselves; yet inasmuch as they help men upon
earth to realize intellectually some larger measure of the eternal
truths, are necessarily of value to religion They may but
be the scaffolding of the religious life; yet whilst our religious
life is in the building, the scafTolding has its worth. No
theologian would say that scholastic philosophy, for example,
is part of the Gospel ; but it has appreciably done much to
commend the Gospel to men's intellects. Or again, the tern-

5o6 Professor Harm ACK^mn* the Gospel. [Feb.,

poral policy of the church in dealing with nations may be said
to form no part of the Gospel; yet inasmuch as it educates
the yet undeveloped spiritual nature of man to know and
appreciate the Gospel itself, it has part in our religion on earth.
In this sense even the Gospel is not altogether independent of
particularistic elements, nor can be whilst men are what they
are. It is indeed the charter of spiritual freedom to all who
are capable of exercising their freedom ; but not to those who
yet need the swaddling-clothes of "positive precepts" and
Ihis world's systems. To a St. Francis, living already on the
higher plane of life, and seeing eternal truths with a direct,
though yet imperfect vision, philosophic systems could add
nothing to the real content of his knowledge of God ; but to
more ordinary mortals, groping after the higher ways but not
yet arrived, the philosophy of the schools was a veritable grace,
imparting light and understanding.

Where, it seems to us. Professor Harnack lamentably fails,
U I hat he does not see that the Gospel, though superior in
ItNelf to the merely temporal, is cast into the world as a
l«Hveii, gradually leavening the whole, and that therefore it
inu«t act upon those particularistic elements which make up
llic world's life and in some way ally itself with them ; else it
will never transform the world. Later on, in his lectures on
the development of the church, he admits the necessity of the
*• secularizing process" in order that the world shall itself be
divinized; but at the same time impatiently tosses this fact
•aide as a necessary evil.

In truth, the germ-fallacy of Professor Harnack's theory, is
that he seeks the kingdom of God simply here in the present,
and in the soul of the individual only. He will not admit that
it belongs not so much to the present as to the future, and
that it is found not merely in the soul of the individual but in
the whole life of humanity reconciled to God. And so he
cannot see that religion as we see it here in ordinary life is
necessarily an imperfect thing, aiming at the highest, but as yet
working its way through various stages, some lower, some
higher, of spiritual development. Neither does his theory per-
mit him to recognize the action of the Gospel on secular sys-
tem? and institutions as part of that world-wide conversion at
which Christianity aims. He narrows religion down to mere
Individual consciousness — the consciousness of God as the

I904.

Professor TTarnack and

Father. He will not admit, as we Catholics ciaim, that this
consciousness is but the foundation of an organic human
society, in which by this very consciousness all human energies
and relationships are transformed and exalted. No ; for him
the mere foundation is the entire structure.

Professor Harnack's analysis of the Gospel suffers in every
point from this narrow and exclusive conception. In seeking
simplicity he has lopped off all the branches and left only the
bare trunk, and even that he has cut down to the level of his
own eyes. In centring ail his thoughts upon the idea of the
Fatherhood of God, to the exclusion of all other ideas and
aspects of the evangelical message, he reduces this message to
a mere aphorism. The Gospel is, in truth, not so simple as
Professor Harnack would have us believe. As Cardinal New-
man has remarked,* it is impossible to define Christianity in a
sentence. To do so and to accept the definition as all-com-
prehensive, is nothing else than a negation of all that the defi-
nition does not suggest, and consequently a virtual denial of
Christianity as it really is. So now in describing the Gospel
as the revelation of the Fatherhood of God, the lecturer would
deny the objective character of the heavenly kingdom, and
exclude the idea of Christ's divinity and of the church.

This same method of exclusiveness vitiates further conclu-
sions of his — as, for example, when he tells us that " the all-
important element in religion is the consciousness of being safe
in God." In a sense this is true, if it means the realization by
man of his dependence upon God as upon his heavenly
Father. But it is not true if we are to take it, as it is evi-
dently taken by the lecturer, in the Lutheran sense of justifi-
cation by faith alone, which virtually denies the value of good
works and belittles the necessity of exhibiting one's faith in
one's works.

In like manner we cannot accept simply and without further
explanation the saying: "Religion gives us only a single
experience, but one which presents the world in a new light:
the Eternal appears ; time becomes means to an end ; man is
seen to be on the side of the Eternal," Yes; but when one
comes to reflect on this " single experience," it is found that
the experience implies a very complex tissue of ideas. Brought
under the reflex act of consciousness, it is like a ray of light
' Development 0/ DKtrint. I. i. 3.

6o8

Professor Harnack and the Gospel.

[Feb..

brought under the crystal ; its simplicity dividing into many
elements, some of one color, some of another. In fact, our
most vital experiences are, like life itself, at once very simple
and very complex. To forget the complexity is to misun-
derstand the simplicity, and hence the danger of attempting to
reduce life to the narrowness of a single formula, however
sublime. Many formulae will stilt leave something unappre-
hended.

Still, as we have said, there is a legitimate use of the say-
ing : The whole Gospel is summed up in the idea of the
Fatherhood of God. Yet, is this idea so absolutely distinctive
of the Gospel as Professor Harnack would have us believe ?
Is there no indication of this doctrine in Jewish tradition?
Undoubtedly our Divine Lord revealed this truth with a clear-
ness and definiteness unknown to the Jews; but the idea of
God's Fatherhood is nevertheless revealed in the Prophets.
Where is God's fatherly care more pathetically expressed than
in the book of Isaias ? One might quote the passages: "For
thou art our Father, and (though) Abraham hath not known
us and Israel hath been ignorant of us: thou, O Lord, art our
Father" (Isaias Ixiii. i6); "And now, O Lord, thou art our
Father" (Isaias Ixiv, 8). One might well ask whether our
Lord had not these two passages in mind when he taught his
disciples to pray.

But it is not merely in the presence of the words in the
text that we find an anticipation of our Lord's doctrine ; but
what is of more forcible argument, the entire spirit of the pro-
phetical teaching is in harmony with the doctrine of God's
Fatherhood. The prophetical history of Israel is the parable
of the Prodigal Son worked out in the life of a people. Where
is the paternal accent more clearly heard than in those ever-
recurring words: "Thus saith the Lord that created thee, O
Jacob, and formed thee, O Israel : Fear not, for I have
redeemed thee and called thee by thy name : thou art mine "
{Isaias xliii. l).

True, to the Jew God's Fatherhood is for Israel, not for
the world at large. Israel rather than man is the child of
God. It was our Lord who clearly and for ever declared that
God is the Father of all mankind, and that every human soul
has the right to enter into filial relations with God. Our Lord
broke through Jewish particularism. Yet the idea of God's

1904.]

Professor Harnack and the Gospel.

609

Fatherhood was not altogether new to the disciplts, when they
I heard it from his lips. What was new to them was the doc-
trine that the Gentiles as well as the Jews were children of
God, and to be invited to come back to their Father's house.
Even this was not altogether a new doctrine ; for the prophets
had accustomed the Jews to look for the salvation of all men ;
only it was to be through their conversion to Judaism. All
^nations were to come and enter the Temple. That was the
{first step in the direction of supplanting Jewish particularism,
^and prepared the world for the final enunciation of the evan-
gelical doctrine, in which the Jewish temple had no place.

What, then, becomes of Professor Harnack's rule, that
whatever is found in Jewish tradition is not to be regarded as
the message of Jesus Christ, since this very conception of the
Fatherhood of God, wherein he finds the clearest light of the
Gospel, is so largely a Jewish doctrine ?

But perhaps he would reply that the Gospel message of
the Fatherhood of God ts to be taken in connection with that
(other formula concerning the infinite value of the human soul.
He would say, perhaps, that the distinctive teaching of Jesus
Christ is that God is the Father of every individual human
soul, without reference to any particular creed, whether Jewish
or Catholic or any other. He would say in other words that
the true evangelical doctrine is that every human soul, by the
very fact that it is a human soul, has all the rights and privi-
*leges of a child of God, and therefore is in direct communion
I with God as its Father, and derives spiritual life from this
{direct communion with God, without any mediate channels of
grace, such as the church and the sacraments. This, in fact, I
take to be Professor Harnack's meaning. But where does he
find this doctrine in the Gospels? The Gospels certainly do
not speak of man, by the mere fact of being man, having the
rights and privileges of a child of God and member of the
kingdom. On the contrary they draw a clear distinction
between the children of the world and the children of the king-
dom ; between the believer and the unbeliever. It is true that
in the Gospels all men are regarded as children of God, inas-
much as the heavenly kingdom is thrown open to all without
distinction of race or class, and all may therefore enter into
the kingdom, and thus enter into the rights and privileges of
the children of God. But it is only when they become mem-

6io Professor Harnack and the Gospel. [Feb.,

bers of the kingdom that they properly can be called children
of God in the full sense of the words. The doctrine as set
forth in the Gospels may be put under these four heads :

1. God is the Father of all men, inasmuch as he has des-
tined all men to share in the life of his kingdom, together with
his eternal Son.

2. But some of his creatures have gone astray, and have
forfeited the privileges destined for them, and no longer have
the status of children.

(See the parable of the Prodigal Son.)

3. God nevertheless yearns that the sinner should repent
and avail himself of God's fatherly mercy to be reinstated in
the promise of sonship.

4. That those who follow Christ here on earth shall share
in the kingdom as co-heirs with him.

(See Matthew xx. 20-23.)

Now, the whole point of the Gospel is that the children of
God are the children of the kingdom ; that sharing in the
kingdom makes us children of God, Professor Harnack pits
the idea of the Fatherhood of God against the idea of an
objective visible kingdom. Yet the evident meaning of the
Gospels is that the Fatherhood of God is consummated in the
establishment of the objective kingdom in which men are raised
to the dignity of children of God, through their relationship
with the Eternal Son, Jesus Christ.

For Professor Harnack, the value of the human soul
is derived from its personal communion with God, "The
man," he says, " who can say ' my Father ' to the Being who
rules heaven and earth is thereby raised above heaven and
earth, and himself has a value which is higher than all the
fabric of this world." • This is one of those truthful and
luminous passages, many of which abound in the lectures,
whose beauty and truth are destroyed by the context. It is
quite true that the Gospel has given an immeasurable value to
the human soul. Nothing Professor Harnack has said on this
point brings out this truth more exquisitely than the Catholic
doctrine that the soul of the least of God's creatures is of
such value in the sight of God, that to save that one soul only,
our Divine Lord would willingly have died. Nevertheless it
is evident in the Gospels that the value of the human soul

•Lecf. IV,. p. 67.

1904-

FESSOX HARNACKAIfb THE GOSPEL.

6II

I
I

is taken in connection with the kingdom, of which that sou) is
a possible member. Nowhere in the Gospel can the individual
soul be said to be considered apart from the visible, objective
kingdom. " He that hateth his life in this world shall keep it
unto life eternal," is a text quoted by Professor Harnack. But
what is here meant by life eternal ? It is the antithesis of
"this world*'; that is, of the kingdom of sense-pleasures and
temporal interests; the objective visible life of worldlings.
Eternal life, on the other hand, is the objective organic life
which the Gospel is to establish. So, too, when our Lord says :
^' What doth it profit a man to gain the whole world and suffer
the loss of his soul," the thought again is of the soul in refer-
ence to the kingdom. To Jose one's soul is to lose one's place
in the eternal kingdom. No man can really lose his soul ; but
he may separate himself from that full human but eternal life
in which the soul finds its proper satisfaction and destiny, as a
member of the kingdom of God, and thus stultify the life of
his soul. In this sense he may be said to Jose his soul, and it
is in this sense that the phrase is used in the Gospel. Apart
from the kingdom, then, the human soul can hardly be said to
have a value; its value is derived from the fact that it is
destined to have a place in the kingdom.

We come now to the third aspect under which Professor
Harnack views the Gospel — as ** the commandment of love."
The whole Gospel, he says, is contained in this precept. Again
we can only reply that this assertion is at once true and false.
It is true if one understands it to mean that love is the root-
principle and supreme law of the Gospel in regard to our
ethical relations with God and man. It is false if by It is
meant that the Gospel is nothing else than an ethical system
founded in love, or if the commandment of love is regarded
as an end in itself

Professor Harnack assumes that the commandment of love
does away with the need of public worship. "Jesus," he says,
"freed the moral element from all alien connections, even from
its alliance with the public religion. Therefore, to say that the
Gospel is a matter of ordinary morality is not to misunder-
stand Him." • In denying a necessary place to public worship
in his scheme of religion, Professor Harnack is, of course, but
logically following out his idea of individual communion with

• Lect. IV,, p. 72.
.1

6i2 Professor Harnack and the Gospel, [Feb.,

God. If the individual stands alone with God, public worship
can have no meaning. Public worship is the expression of that
social homage which men render to God, not merely as indivi-
duals but as members of a divine society ; and as such it is a
necessary element in a religion which regards man as a social
being. Christ therefore, we may take it, could not exclude
public worship from the list of the commandments ; nor is there
any ground in the Gospels to say that he did. Did he not
himself frequently attend the service of the synagogue and the
Temple ? and he went not merely to denounce the unfaithful-
ness of the Jews, but as a devout participator in their worship.
Did he not, too, command respect for the chair of Moses, and
send the lepers to the priests to fulfil the law ? When, to take
the instance quoted by Professor Harnack, our Lord " exhibited
an indignant contempt for those who allow their neighbors, nay,
even their parents, to starve, and on the other hand send gifts
to the Temple," — ^his indignation is aroused not because they
offer gifts to the Temple, but because they made the offering
of these gifts an excuse for neglecting a more urgent duty,
and because too the motive which led them to offer their gifts
was one of pride and ostentation. Just as a Catholic priest
to-day might refuse with indignation a gift of altar-plate offered
by a man who under- paid his servants or neglected his home.
Unhappily, amongst the Jews at the time of our Lord, as in
certain periods of religious degeneracy since, religious observances
had become a matter of external form and had lost their inner,
truly religrious significance. Against this degeneration our Lord
was constantly pouring out the vials of his wrath and contempt.
But far from destroying public worship, his object was to deepen
its spiritual content, to make it the sincere expression of inward
worship. Certainly he abolished, or left it to his apostles to
abolish, particular Jewish ceremonies which had no further
spiritual meaning, and he protested against certain pharisaical
exaggerations of ritual, which also were without spiritual sincerity.
Yet he maintained certain rites, such as the pasch, and endowed
them with a higher symbolism ; and may we not see in the dis-
course on the Light of the world* one of many efforts of our
Lord to manifest the symbolism of Jewish worship ?

It is impossible, then, to see in the Gospels an abrogation
of public worship by the commandment of love. This com-

• John xii., 30-36.

PROFESSOR

\RNACK

mandment was indeed the supreme commandment; and upon
it even the duty of public worship is based. Men are to serve
God out ol love, as children worshipping a loving parent. So
too they are to serve their neighbors, not from desire of per-
sonal benefit, as do the heathen, but from simple love of their
neighbor, after the example Christ has himself given us. Truly
would our Lord have " nothing to do with the purposeful and
self-seeking pursuit of good works." That subtle selfishness
which infects so many apparently good people, actuating even
their "good works" with an intense seeking of their own
personal interest, whether in this world or the next, is abso-
lutely opposed to the mind of our Saviour. "To be anathema
for the brethren " was St. Paul's desire, and the desire of many
a saint, and the phrase does but seek to express by hyperbole
the utter unselfishness of Christian love.

There is one other point in Professor Harnack's analysis of
the Gospel to which we will call attention, because his treat-
ment of it illustrates his frequent misconception of Catholic
teaching. It regards the question of asceticism. "There is a
widespread opinion," says Professor Harnack — " it is domi-
nant in the Catholic churches and many Protestants share it
nowadays — that in the last resort, and in the most important
things which it enjoins, the Gospel is a strictly world-shunning
and ascetic creed. Some people proclairft this piece of intelli-
gence with sympathy and admiration ; nay, they magnify it
into the contention that the whole value and meaning of genu-
ine Christianity, as of Buddhism, lies in its world-denying
character. Others emphasize the world-shunning doctrines of
the Gospel, in order thereby to expose its incompatibility with
modern ethical principles and to prove its uselessness as a
religion. The Catholic churches • have found a curious way
out of the ditficulty, and one which is in reality a product of
despair. They recognize, as I have said, the world- denying
character of the Gospel, and they teach, accordingly, that it is
only in the form of monasticism — that is, in the ' vita religiosa '
— that true Christian life finds its expression. But they admit
a lower kind of Christianity, without asceticism, as 'sufficient.'
We wilt say nothing about this strange concession now ; the
Catholic doctrine is that it is only monks who can follow Christ
fully." t As opposed to this he goes on to set forth his own

•By " Catholic churches" Professor H.irnack means the Roman and th« Greek.
t Lecture V., p. 79.

5X4

PrOFESSOU HAkNACK AND THE GOSPEL.

[Feb..

doctrine that this world is given us " to be made the best of
within the bounds of its own blessings and its own regulations,
and that if Christianity makes any other claim, it thereby
shows that it is unnatural. If Christianity has no goal to set
before this life, if it transfers everything to a Beyond ; if it
declares all earthly blessings to be valueless, and points exclu-
sively to a world -shunning and contemplative life, it is an
offence to all energetic, nay, ultimately, to all true natures;
for such natures are certain that our faculties are given us to
be employed and that the earth is assigned us to be cultivated
and subdued." •

Evidently from these passages Professor Harnack fails to
understand the nature of Catholic asceticism or monasticism.
According to his conception of it, Catholic asceticism is founded
in the belief that the present world with all its Joys and inter-
ests is essentially evil, and therefore to be shunned. He dis-
sociates Catholicism from Manicheism only by the admittance
of a sort of " lower kind of Christianity " sufficient for salva-
tion, but not the perfect Gospel.

Was there ever a more entire misunderstanding ? We must,
however, admit that some of the devotional writings with which
the Catholic world has been inundated during the past three
centuries do lend color to the statement. Too frequently in
these writings is the infection of puritanism evident ; the world
is spoken of as though it were bad in itself, an utterly evil
thing. The most noticeable feature about these writings is the
absence of the human feeling and of joy, as though to be
human and joyous were to be unrighteous. But these writings do
not represent Catholic teaching, but are the outcome of peculiar
circumstances and the morbid character of the times in which
they see the light. Had Professor Harnack observed the his-
tory of the monks sympathetically he might have seen how
untrue his statement of Catholic monasticism is to the fact.
The monk renounces the world not because it is in itself art
evil thing, but because he himself is called to a more intimate
communion with the unseen world than is possible in the
ordinary paths of the world's life. His renouncement is the
result of a special vocation. How utterly opposed Catholics
asceticism is to Buddhism, or any other form of dehumanizing
religion, is surely evident to any one whose eyes are open to

•Lecture V., p. 8o-8r.

I
I

I904.]

Professor Harnack and the Gospel.

615

see, in the history of European civilization; for who did more
to introduce the arts of civilized life among the modern nations
than the Catholic monk? And was it not the medijeval friar —
another representative of Catholic asceticism — who rehabilitated
society in the nineteenth century, founding hospitals, fostering
learning, encouraging marriage, inspiring the arts? If the
Catholic monk leaves the worSd it is only that he might the
more freely and forcibly act on the world. His very renouncc-
■ ment is itself an effective discipline to correct the moral abuses
of society. His vow of poverty rebukes the inordinate love of
personal property so common amongst men ; his vows of
chastity and obedience are a vivid lesson on the possibility and
duty of self-restraint.

The monk's life is, in fact, properly understood when we
take it in its relation to the whole Christian society. Not all
men are called to be monks ; yet all are called to be perfect
Christians, even though they be owners of landed estates or
living in the marriage state. Each man has to follow the
divine vocation, whether it be to the marriage state or to the
cloister ; and he is made perfect in fulfilling the vocation to
which he is called.

Of course to any one who holds by the theory that religion
consists wholly and exclusively in individual communion with
God, the Catholic monastic ideal can never be wholly intelligi-
ble. For the value of the monastic life largely consists in its
communion with the wider life of the whole Catholic body.
The monk fulfils a function in the organized body of the
church: he is not a mere world-shunning ascetic. For though
separated from the ordinary life of the world, he yet continues
to act on the world, and forms part of the world's life in the
church.

And yet there is a sense in which every Catholic— be he
monk or layman — must renounce the world if he would be a
perfect Christian. Professor Harnack, though he has caricatured
Catholic asceticism and wrongly classed it with Buddhism, has
truly perceived a vital difference between the Catholic asceti-
cism and the form of self-denial which he himself admits as
necessary to a Christian life. As we have seen, his whole
conception of religion is present personal communion with God;
he practically denies that fuller realization of religion in
eternity, to which Catholics look forward as the ultimate goal

6i6

Professor Harnack and the Gospel.

[Feb.,

of their existence. This fuller and perfect realization is what
animates the Catholic; and in view of this eternity he values
less the things of time. He does not deny value to temporal
things, but he holds them to be of use only as means to the
eternal. Even in regard to his knowledge of God, he knows
it to be imperfect now, and looks forward to a more perfect
vision in the future. True to the Gospel, the Catholic looks
beyond this present world for the realization of the Gospel
promise. To Professor Harnack this view is heresy. If he
believes in a life beyond the grave, he has such vague and
shadowy notions about it, that he seeks the complete realiza-
tion of religion in present earthly communion with God. And
this, it seems to me, is what these lectures teach, notwithstand-
ing their high religious fervor — that there is no certainty of a
proper human existence beyond this earth ; that life here is
all we need therefore be concerned with, and that religion is
but a subjective consciousness of a Higher Being than our-
selves, whose nature is good and all-merciful, and with whom
whilst \ye live we may have some sort of personal communion,
but of whom we know nothing save that He must have* the
highest moral attributes we find in man. Therefore we attrib-
ute to this Being the attribute of love — the highest attribute of
man. And in doing this we become His children. Such in
brief is the teaching of these lectures: a mere shadowy The-
ism. But what else can man arrive at, once he rejects the
divine authority of the Church ? And that is why I said in
the beginning that these lectures are the last word of Prot-
estantism.

1904

^H'E STORYOFTME "MORTE INJ^OCENTE?

>17

THE STORY OF THB " MORTE INNOCENTE."

BY E. C. VANSITTART.

VERY visitor to "Venice who has come down the
Grand Canal disembarks in the Piazzeta, and
halts at the foot of the column bearing thd
winged lion : tefore you stretch the opalescent
waters of the lagoons, with a faint girdle of
green islands far away; to your left rises the Ducal Palace,
to your right the loggie of Sanso\fifto. Memories of all those
historic stones have witnessed hold you spellbound, while your
eyes feast on the scene which stands alone in its peculiar
style. When the sun has gone down in a flood of purple and
gold, and the twilight falls, look towards the south-west side
of the Church of St. Mark, and just in front of the Madonna
in mosaic you will see two little lights suddenly flash out.
These lamps are lit at sunset every evening, and burn through-
out the night with a steady radiance, like two stars seen from
afar, and only go out when the darkness is lost in the full
light of day. Any Venetian, high or low, will tell you the
reason of their existence — the sad but true story of the " M&rte
Jnnocente^* or the " Btton anima del Fornaretto" as he is vari-
ously termed, in whose memory they burn ; a story of love
and death, an example of the fallible nature of human evi-
dence, and the danger of hasty judgment.

On a brilliantly clear March morning of the year 1507,
though six o'clock had not yet struck, there were already seve-
ral customers in the Osioria of the Cappa d'OrOy situated in
the Campiello dei Pignoli, facing a canal in the Sesti^re of St.
Marco. This tavern was largely frequented by workmen, gon-
doliers, and fishermen inhabiting the neighboring narrow calie,
for, besides opening his doors so early, its host, Bartolo, kept
a large assortment of the home-made wines and spirits so
popular in those days, in which his customers were wont to
indulge before venturing out into the air of the lagoons, keen
VOL. Lxxvni. — 40

'HE UTORY OF THE

WJtTE JNNOCENTE.

[Feb.J

enough at that early hour, when the sun had not sufficiently
warmed the atmosphere. The tavern, too, was a place of
resort where friends met and discussed the news of the day.

On the morning in question the guests present, consisting
of a workman and two gondoliers, were carrying on a friendly
talk with the genial host, when the door opened to admit a
singularly handsome young fellow, carrying a large basket full
of freshly baked loaves; he was greeted with cries o( " Evvtva
Pietro f "

" Good morning, friends," he replied, putting down his
basket. " Bartolo, give me a glass of malvagia before I begin
my rounds; the cold is piercing this morning."

** You 're late, Pietro," observed Giovanni, one of the gon-
doliers.

" I left home at the usual time," was the answer, " but
met a poor old woman carrying such a load of wood that I
thought she would be crushed under it ; so I just took it to
her door, while she watched my basket. To your health,
friends \ " and Pietro emptied his glass.

" How goes business ? " asked Giovanni.

" It could not be better; my father's bread is acknowledged
to be the best in Venice, and we can scarcely get through the
orders. Have you heard the latest dictum : Wine from Friuh",
and bread from Tasca ? But now I must be off, and hurry to
make up for lost time." As he raised his basket the cloth
covering the bread was displaced, and the corner of a beauti-
ful sheath appeared.

"What's that, Pietro?" inquired Vincenzo, the second gon-
dolier; "have you invested in a dagger?"

"I; a dagger I Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Pietro; "do
you suppose I would carry about such a weapon for the
world ? I found this lying on the ground as I came along,
and picked it up. See, it is silver, and richly chased."

"Rather! Worth many a scudo, I should say," agreed
Bartolo, who had approached.

"That's what I guessed," replied Pietro, slipping the sheath
into his breast pocket; "and as no one ever claims such an
article I shall take it to one of the Jews on the Rialto, and
exchange it for a trinket for my Teresa." Nodding to his
friends, he shouldered his basket and left the tavern, bis merry
whistle dying away in the distance.

1904.] The Story of the **Morte Innocente" 619

"What a good fellow he is!" said the workman, looking
after him.

"There is not a better in Venice," affirmed Giovanni;
"old Marco is indeed fortunate to have such a son!"

"And such a daughter-in-law as Pietro is bringing him!"
added Vincenzo,

While these remarks were being exchanged a man, whose
face was covered by a black velvet mask, entered, and sat
down at an empty table. " Cyprus/' was the order, uttered ia
a short voice.

'^ Per Bacco ! he does not waste words," remarked Vincenzo
in an undertone to his companions. " What an hour of the
morning to go about masked ! "

"Perhaps he is returning from a ball," whispered Giovanni;
** he 's a patrician, I'm sure, judging by his dress."

He of the mask moved uneasily : " What are you staring
at me for, you fellows?" he suddenly asked in an angry tone.

*' No offence meant, signore," replied Giovanni. At this
moment the host set down the wine before him.

" What 's the news ? " asked the stranger ; " were there
many guests at the ball at Palazzo Pisani last night?"

"How should I know, filustrissimo f "

" What ! you live two steps from the Palazzo Pisani, and
pretend not to know what goes on ? "

" I am too busy to interest myself in what does not con-
cern me."

" You 're an exceptional host then," was the ironical reply.
" Have you heard, at least, whether a street brawl took place
in this neighborhood last night?"

" Not that I know of," returned Bartolo.

"Why, they say a man was murdered!"

Hearing these words, Giovanni involuntarily exclaimed,
" Perhaps the sheath Pietro found . . ."

"What sheath?" inquired the stranger eagerly.

"A silver sheath picked up by chance."

"And who is this Pietro?"

" An excellent youth, surnaraed the Fornaretto, son of
Marco Tasca, the baker. You must know that . . ."

But the stranger had risen, paid his score, and saying,
" Such matters do not interest me," hastily departed.

" A fude hound ! If I had been in your place, Bartolo, I

620 The Story OF THE **M0RTE Innocente:* [Feb.,

would have set him down," exclaimed Giovanni, shaking his
fist at the back of the retreating stranger. " I have a presenti-
ment that he is one of those birds of ill omen . ."

*' Hold your tongue, Giovanni," replied Bartolo hastily y
•rea^mbsr that sometimes even the Signori of the Council of
Tta go aboat masked, and one cannot be too careful. In
Vtaioe the very walls speak; everywhere ears are listening,
ey«s — HMufc. hands ready to seize their prey. One can
^^) ^IC tt^y <ip^* one's mouth before the Ten know of it ; a lion's
■WMrth is Kftd/ in one corner to hold secret denunciations, a
VMt itt tihe w^ itt another receives anonymous communications.
ll idti mot require much to be dragged before the tribunal;
aay be turned into tears in one moment, and what
to the humblest of us happens also to the nobles — for
the Doge Marino Faliero . . ,"

**Y»>u*re right, but anyhow, thank God, there is justice in
YtH^tl 1 IkO oae is taken up or condemned without good rea-
liMk'* rtVMifked Vincenzo.

'^Rdther harsh justice at times, you must allow," put in the
^K^f^MMA* *nd his friends laughed.

Qdtt more the door opened, and admitted a strong-looking,
\|^(tt)t«Mt« elderly man, with a jovial countenance and hearty
V^Mt *'Good day to the company," was his greeting as he
%H^v«ii hit hand,

*' Weilcome, Marco \ " the unanimous response.

•• A glass of muscat, good Bartolo," ordered the newcomer.

**Your son was here a short while ago," observed the host
tl hv executed the order.

** Wa« he? Poor boy! he is a good lad. He works for
Itnt \* always good-tempered, only a bit hot-headed at times.
I luvo indeed much to be thankful for. To think my parents
^Kiuo into Venice barefoot, carrying a load on their backs,
Hiul now mine is the most flourishing bakery in town, and we
tliiva our own house, and a tidy bit of money laid by. And in
Ihi'oo weeks' time Pietro's marriage will take place, and he will
UfliHj home Teresa, who is as dear to me as if she were my
ftWH (laughter. When my time comes to go, I shall be able to
fihtiiB my eyes in peace, and bless my boy with my last breath,
•« I hiivo bleised him every moment of his life up to now";
MImI Mttrco paused breathless, his face glowing as he eulogized
Ui0 wn whom he- loved so devotedly.

1904] The Story of the *'Morte Innocente." 621

I
I

*' You 're worthy one of the other ; an exemplary father and
a model son," replied Giovanni in a tone of sincere conviction.

"Quick; a glass of water for heaven's sake!" cried a young
woman, rushing into the room with a distracted countenance.

"What's the matter, Maria?" inquired the host.

" Oh, if you only knew ! " she exclaimed, taking the glass
with a trembling hand. " I have just seen the dead body of a
patrician lying on the Traghetto di San Samuele ; the dagger is
still in his breast. Holy Virgin 1 his face seemed to cry out to
heaven for vengeance as he lay there " ; and Maria sank trem-
bling into a chair, while all pressed round her.

" And who was it ? " they asked.

" None other than Messer Lulgi Guoro, secretary to the
Illustrissimo Lorenzo Loredano." On hearing this name Marco
Tasca turned pale and started. " God have mercy upon his
soul, and grant him peace," he murmured, crossing himself, for
the murdered man was well known to have led an evil life.

" A good riddance too ! " exclaimed Vincenzo.

" For God's sake, do not speak so loud ! " urged Bartolo.

" Oh, let me be! " returned Vincenzo. '* Messer Luigi, though
a patrician, was none the less a scoundrel, and I should not
hesitate to say so even in the presence of the Council of Ten."

At this moment the door was thrown open by a boy of
fourteen, whose hands, face, and clothes were white with flour,
and who ran up to Marco crying: "For the love of God,
paderone, come home at once; the sbirri are looking for your
son Pietro."

" For my son Pietro!" exclaimed the old man, turning as
pale as death, and starting to his feet.

" Yes, I do not know how I managed to get here, for there
arc two men posted at the door, while the others are searching
the house."

" Impossible \ There is some mistake ! My son, who is the
soul of honor, to be supposed capable of committing any evil
action ! You all know it is impossible " ; and Marco, a prey
to deadly fear, hurried out and ran towards his shop, followed
by the boy.

Marco Tasca had not exaggerated the praises of his son
Pietro, who was indeed a model of youths, an indefatigable
worker, honest to a fault, steady, and respected by all who

62a THE Story of the "Morte innocente.*' [Feb.,

knew him. He was engaged to be married to Teresa, the
valued maid of Elena Loredano, wife of the Senator Lorenzo
Loredano, who was one of the members of the dreaded Council
of Ten. Teresa was an orphan, the daughter of old retainers
of the family in which she sewed. She was now nineteen, and
one of the most beautiful girls in Venice ; of that rare and
delicate type of beauty peculiar to the Venetian daughters of
the people, with the red-gold hair Titian loved to paint, and
the clear white skin and soft dark eyes which form such a strik-
ing contrast, and which turned the heads of many a Venetian
gallant of the day. Of a sweet, gentle disposition, she was as
good as she was beautiful, and between her and Pietro existed
a deep, true love. Her mistress, who held her in high esteem,
approved of her choice, and had undertaken to provide her
with a handsome dowry.

When, on festas, the young pair and old Marco glided in
a gondola across the still canals out into the open waters of
the lagoons, no happier hearts beat under God's sky; in the
translucent atmosphere of a southern spring they moved across
the quiet waters, where the great barges with their tawny
orange, red, or yellow sails crept slowly by like gigantic butter-
flies with outspread wings, the fresh salt breeze from the sea
fanning them like a caress, till the domes and campanili of
Venice stood out against the sunset sky resembling the outlines
of a dream-city, and they came back under the gleaming star-
light hand-in-hand, wrapped in such unalloyed happiness as is
rarely vouchsafed here below.

On the morning in question, however, Pietro, having finished
his rounds, lingered awhile at the Palazzo Loredano with Teresa,
a cloud darkening his handsome face. " Has Messer Luigi
dared to offer you any more presents ? " he asked.

" He wanted to give me a wedding gift, but I refused even
that," replied Teresa.

"The hound! If you knew what that man is! But there
are things not fit for your ears to hear. If I thought you
listened to his flattering words and honeyed phrases, I should
not hesitate to kill him"; and Pietro clenched his hands, and
walked up and down the room.

" Pietro,*' pleaded the girl, laying her hand on his arm, and
looking up wistfully at him with her beautiful eyes, " how can
you speak like that ? How can you doubt your poor Teresa,

I
I

1904] The Story of the "Morte Innocente:' 623

whose heart is yours and yours alone " ; and a great burning
tear dropped on his hand.

In a moment his arms were around her as, full of remorse,
he exclaimed: "Forgive me, forgive me, amore mio ; it is only
that I love you so passionately ; and to know you are under
the sime roof as that man maddens me. I know you are mine,
mine only, and I have never doubted you."

'* And in three weeks," said Teresa shyly, " I shall be with
you in our own home, and nothing will part us but death, and
death itself cannot divide us, for love such as ours can never
die."

Messer Luigi Guoro was secretary to Lorenzo Loredano ; a
man about thirty years of age ; handsome in his way, with a
fair beard and blue eyes, but a man of low character and
notorious reputation. He admired the pretty serving maid, and
would have liked to carry on with her, as was the way with
gallants in those days, when "patricians" were allowed much
license. Teresa, however, would have nothing to do with him,
repulsed all his advances, refused his gifts, and avoided every
encounter with him ; in spite of which, Pietro was poss&ssed
by fierce jealousy towards Messer Luigi, and the only cloud
which marred Teresa's perfect happiness was this hatred which
Pietro openly expressed against one whom he regarded as a
vulture ready to devour his dove. The flame was fanned by
the secretary's haughty and contemptuous manner towards
Pietro whenever he crossed his path ; the fiery young baker
had to put a great restraint upon himself not to express his
feelings towards his adversary. But after Teresa's words this
morning he bitterly reproached himself for ever bringing a
shadow over that beloved face; and as he held her close, he
murmured : " Never again, no, never again will I distress you
by even naming him, Teresa. Sometimes I am frightened by
our happiness, and it oppresses me"; then, with a lingering
embrace, they parted.

Pietro had only left the palace a few moments when he was
seized by the hands of the law, and carried off to prison. His
arrest was due to an anonymous letter which one of the Coun-
cil of Ten had received half an hour previously, and which ran
thus :

** Early this morning Messer Luigi Guoro was murdered by
a man of the people. In his breast was left the dagger, and

624 T/fE STORY OF THE *'MORTE iNNOCENTEr [Feb.,

as he had not been robbed of a pin, it seems as though the
hand of the assassin was driven by vengeance. The strongest
suspidoos rest upon Pietro Tasca, surnamed the Fornaretio."

To describe the horror and despair of all concerned is
b*y o ^d wofds.

**flAtio Tasca? Impossible! He woald not hurt a fly,"
db» vwtfict of his friends; but alas! evidence was strongly
Mv; al90 several nobles and patricians had recently
murdered by plebeians in Venice, in consequence of which
tllft Coitocil of Ten were even less inclined than usual towards
loolMCjr in cases where all appearances were against the pris-
oner, la vain did all who knew him testify to the rectitude of
the Fomaretto, to his blameless life, his spotless past ; facts
remained: he had often incautiously and openly expressed his
jealousy of the murdered man, the sheath of the poignard in
Messer Luigi's heart had been found upon him. The very evi-
dence of his friends when cross-examined was against him ; had
he not come into the Osteria of the Cappa d'Oro with the
sheath in his possession, while the murdered man's body lay in
a ctltU close by transfixed by the dagger ? had his friends not
commented that he was later than usual that morning in start-
ing on his rounds ? had he not often openly avowed his hatred
of Messer Luigi ? Teresa herself could not deny his jealousy
of the dead man, though she affirmed with bitter tears that he
was incapable of lifting a hand against his worst enemy.

He had nothing to bring forward in his defence but the
simple fact of his innocence, and that he had picked up the
sheath which accidentally lay in his path. There seemed no
doubt that in a moment of anger, carried away by jealousy, he
had drawn the dagger and stabbed Luigi Guoro. The Council
of Ten were short and prompt in their decisions: in this case
they had no hesitation ; even Lorenzo Loredano could but sadly
acquiesce in the apparently overwhelming evidence, and Pietro
was condemned to death within three days of his arrest.

At first his despair was terrible; not that he feared death,
but, strong in the sense of his innocence, fuU of health, youth,
and strength, with everything that made life sweet within his
grasp, he felt as though such a fate were harder than he could
bear ; every nerve and fibre, every pulse and heart-beat cried
Qut and protested against the injustice. But, like so many of
(he children of the South, he was deeply religious at heart,

1904] The Story of the "Morte Innocente." 625

with a simple, childlike faith, and he soon ceased to kick
against the pricks and resigned himself to the Divine Will
The sight of his poor father's despair, of Teresa's speechless
anguish, made him forget himself in trying to comfort them.

It is useless to linger over the grief and agony compressed
into those days ; mercifully they were not prolonged. Pietro
walked bravely to the scaffold on the last morning, and met
his doom without faltering, commending his soul to God. His
last ^words were : " God is my Judge ; I die innocent of the
charge brought against me, but in that I felt hatred in my
heart against Messer Luigi I sinned, and for this I repent,"

Marco Tasca almost lost his reason, and did not long sur-
vive his son, literally dying of a broken heart'j lovingly tended
by Teresa to the last. She soon after fell into a decline, and
passed away in the house of Loredano, surrounded by care and
affection. Thus were . three lives sacrificed to the fallacy of
human judgment; but before this happened Marco and Teresa
had the sad satisfaction of knowing that Pietro's name had
been cleared of the crime unjustly laid to his charge; for„
shortly after he had suffered the death penalty, a member of
the Council of Ten received a visit from the rector of the
parish of St. Eufemia in Verona, who came to announce that
he had a day or two before received the death-bed confession
of the real murderer of Luigi Guoro, who was none other than
the masked noble who had entered the tavern of the Cappa
d'Oro on the fateful morning. He had killed Guoro in revenge
for personal slights, and when he casually heard that the
Fornaretto had picked up the sheath, had added to his iniquity
by writing the anonymous letter, denouncing him to the Coun-
cil, thinking, since fate had thus played into his hands, to
evade any suspicion which might fall upon himself; but after
Pietro's death, he had fled to Verona, tortured by remorse,
and had soon after, by a strange coincidence, fallen a victim to
an assassin's knife, On his deathbed he made the only repara-
tion left to him, by freely confessing his guilt.

The Council of Ten instantly met, and determined to ren-
der public justice to the innocence of Pietro Tasca, by com-
manding that thenceforth no death sentence should be pro-
nounced without a reminder being first made by the prisoner
to the judge of the fate of the poor Fornaretto, They further
ordered that two lamps should be placed on the outside of the

626 THE STORY OF THE "MORTE INNOCENTE," [Feb.,

Church of St. Mark and lit every night in his memory. In
an old register of the Republic of Venice, the following docu-
ment still exists :

"Monday, March 20, 1507.
" Pietro Tasca, baker, having been found by the law, while
he went to deliver his bread, not far from a murdered man,
with the sheath of a bloody knife, which corresponded exactly
to the knife left in the wound, was taken to prison as guilty
of murder, and witnesses not having been found to prove the
contrary, he was condemned by the Guarantia to be hung as
guilty of the said crime. But not much time had passed
before he was recognized as having been innocent, and hence
arose the saying: Recordeve del pover Forner."

And so it was, for from the time of his death till the fall
of the republic in May, I'JQT, every prisoner condemned to
death, turning to the president of the tribunal, recommended
himself to mercy with the words : " Eccellenza, la si ricordi
del povero Forner (Excellency, remember the poor baker)."

The two lights put up to commemorate this incident still
burn every night in their niches against the ChuTch of St.
Mark, as every visitor to Venice may see for himself.

1904.] *' Parsifal" AND A great Literary Century. 627

PARSIFAL" AND A GREAT LITERARY CENTURY.

BY JAMES J. WALSH, M.D., Ph.D.

lARSIFAL" is the watchword of the hour, and
every one is interested in the intimate details of
Wagner's great musical creation and its rendition.
Of the great poet Wolfram von Eschenbach, how-
ever, who first put the Graal Legend in a worthy
setting in the great master- song, entirely too little has been
heard. It is wonderful to think that an unlettered man, who
could neither read nor write, should have composed, at the be-
ginning of the thirteenth century, a poem so full of human
sympathy, so thrilling with human aspirations, and so complete
an expression of the highest human ideals, that seven centuries
after his work was accomplished men still find in it the pre-
eminent satisfaction of all that they ask of great poetry.

Very few people realize, however, that the great Meister-
singer Wolfram, far from being a solitary poetic personality in
the midst of a period arid in literary growth, was only one of
a series of supreme poets — makers or creators in the true sense
of the Greek original — whose work has had more influence on
mankind, with the exception, of course, of the great Greek poets,
than those of any other literary period in history. The poem
of the Cid in Spain ; the Arthur Legends in Britain ; the
legendary epic poetry of North France, and the Trouveres of
Picardy ; the Master songs of South Germany, with the Minne-
singers of the time; the Troubadours of South France, and
finally Dinte, who, it wilt be remembered, was thirty- five before
the thirteenth century closed, have an interest not only as the
beginnings, but what may very properly be called the sublime
origins of our modern literature.

It will not be '^o surprising to realize this, if we only recall
what this period represents in art accomplishment and sesthetic
endeavor in other lines. The great Gothic cathedrals are the
most glorious and enduring monuments of the art genius of an
epoch that have ever been raised. Every minutest detail of
their construction and decoration was completed with a loving

628 '* Parsifal" AND A great Literary Century. [Feb

attention, and with a sublime devotion and faith that were only
equalled by the wonderful success that greeted the efforts o£ fl
the artists of the time in finding adequate expression for their
artistic ideals in every department of art. The stained glass,
the statuary, the wood and iron work, the lines of interior and ■

exterior decoration, their beautiful illuminated mass and office
books, their vestments with the finest needlework that was ever
made, their wonderful bells^ and, finally, the Gregorian Chant,
which was brought to its perfection for them, and the part-
music, invented so as to fill them with harmony, are all exam-
ples of human artistic eflort reaching as near perfection as pos-
sible in its striving after the externalization of its ideas. It
would be impossible to conceive that men who in every other
mode of aesthetics reached so high a plane of excellence should
fail to have made a literature worthy of their generations. There
has never been any presumption that they were without interest
in literature, in the widest sense of the word at least, since it
is to this same century that we owe the rise of the great uni-
versities of Europe.

Until recent years, however, there has been almost univer-
sal neglect of the precious literary treasures that come to us
from this period. The veil is lifting, however, and critical
authorities all over the world are pointing out the value of the
sublime poetry of the time. Naive it is of course, and crude
in its expression at times, since it comes at a period when
the great modern languages are not as yet fully developed, but
are only in course of formation from the older Latin or Teutonic
tongues. Now that popular notice has been directed particu-
larly to Wolfram von Eschenbach, the author of " Percival " or
"Parsifal," it seems worth while to call attention to the work
of some of his contemporaries, and his immediate predecessors
and successors in that wanderfiil literary era of the thirteenth
century.

Wolfram von Eschenbach was, as Scherer says in his History of
German Literature, the greatest German poet of the Middle Ages,
and was also recognized as such. " No lay mouth ever spake
better," said a poet of the time, who gazed with wonder on the
rising star of Wolfram von Eschenbach's genius, and succeeding
centuries concurred in his judgment. It is an interesting, and
not at all depreciative, commentary on the critical capacity of

1904] "Parsifal"' and a great Literary Century. 629

his age that he was considered only inferior to the Bible and
to the great religious teachers.

The poet is a great contradiction of certain modern notions
as to the necessity for book-learning in properly educating,
that is, in drawing out the intellectual faculties. He seems to
have been almost entirely without even the elements of literary
culture. According to tradition, he could neither read nor write.
He had many things read to him, and occasionally he seems to
have had recourse to the labor-saving device of the modern
writer, dictation. He was, however, a man of an immense power
of memory, and, like the popular poets of the ages before
culture was common, could easily carry many thousands of
verses in his memory. Scherer remarks, in his History of Ger-
man Literature, that his very illiterateness gave him an incom-
parable force and independence, for reading always lays certain
shackles on the imagination.

The most distinguished of Wolfram's German contemporaries
was Hartmann von Aue. He seems to have been both valiant
knight and charming poet. One of the old chronicles says of hira
that he was a knight so learned that he could read in books what-
ever he found written there. It is from Hartmann's " Der Arme
Heinrich " (Poor Henry) that Longfellow has taken the beautiful
story of love and sacrifice which he has embodied in his " Golden
Legend," No more sympathetically human story of human
faults, of trials that lead to higher things, and of the final
triumph of what is best in man's nature under the influence of
a kindly feminine spirit, has ever been written.

It is to Hartmann that we owe one of the most beautiful
and most complete expressions of woman's place as the true
helpmeet of man in everything that he does, even the distant
fighting, in which apparently she has no part:

" Glory be unto her whose word

Sends her dear lord to bitter fight;
Although he conquer by his sword,
She to the praise has equal right;
He with his sword in battle, she at home with prayer,
Both win the victory, and both the glory share."

To another, perhaps to others, of the Meistersingers — for like
Homer, the single authorship has been denied — we owe the

630 '* Parsifal" AND A great Literary Century. [Feb.,

Nibelungen Lied, which Professor Lachmann, the distinguished
German critic, has traced to its origin. According to him,
scarcely a stanza of that poem as we have it now is older than
1 190, and the latest additions to it were made some time before
the end of the first quarter of the thirteenth century. This
wonderful poem, which contains in itself some of the most
powerful poetic elements, and though cast in a form that smacks
of the crudity of its age, lives on without the influence of the
more developed literary qualities it might be supposed to need
for immortality. Its power, in spite of the lack of nicety of
expression, is the best index of the wonderful genius of the
generation to which we owe it. It was, however, only another
sign of the necessity for expression that came over the poets
of that generation, the inevitableness of great thoughts; and as
we have seen, all over Germany similar forces were at work
finding symbols for like irrepressible feelings out of the neces-
sity of the time spirit's influence that was breathing so irresis-
tibly where it would.

Just after the Meistersingers came the Minnesingers in
Germany. This lyrical poetry marks an epoch in rhythm and
versification, as well as in the expression of beautiful thoughts
by beautiful sounds. Such names as that of Walther von der
Vogelweide, of Heinrich von Veldeke and Ekkehard, are no
longer so unknown as they used to be. Walther's famous
definition of Minne, or love, is as enduring as the pretty verses
in which it was written:

" The bliss of two hearts, if both share equally,
Then Minne is there;
One heart alone cannot hold her."

It is to Walther, too, that we owe the significant expression:
" Woman is woman's fairest name, and far above that of lady.
Many a lady is far from being a woman, but a woman is always
womanly."

In Britain the Arthur Legends reached an acme of sublime
poetic expression in the Lancelot story, invented just at the
end of the twelfth and beginning of the thirteenth centuries. It
is not certain to whom we owe the conception of Lancelot as
a hero. His probable creator was Walter Map, or Mapes, who
wrote the story originally in Latin. How great this invention
was may be gathered from the words of the distinguished

I
I

1904.] *'PARSJtFAL" AND A GREAT LITERARY CENTURY. 63 1

modern critic, Mr. George Saintsbury, who, in his volume on
B the literature of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries^ one of
' the volumes of the series " Periods of European Literature,"

says : " Perhaps the great artistic stroke in the whole Legend^

and one of the greatest in all literature, is the concoction of a

hero who should be not only

^ 'Like Paris handsome, and like Hector brave,*

but more heroic than Paris and more interesting than Hector,
—not only a ' greatest knight,' but at once the lover of his
queen and the champion who should himself all but achieve, and
in the person of his son actually achieve, the sacred adventure
of the Holy Graal. If, as there seems no valid reason to dis-
believe, the hitting upon this idea, and the invention or adop-
tion of Lancelot to carry it out, be the work of Walter Mapes,
then Walter Mapes is one of the great novelists of the world,
and one of the greatest of them. If it was some unknown
person (it could hardly be Chrestien de Troyes, for in Chrestien's
form the Graal interest belongs to Percevale, not to Lancelot
or Galahad), then the same compliment must be paid to that
person unknown. Meanwhile the conception and execution of
Lancelot, to whomsoever they may be due, are things most
happy. Entirely free from the faultlessness which is the curse
of the classical hero; his unequalled valor not seldom rewarded
only by reverses ; his merits redeemed from mawkishness by his
one great fault, yet including all virtues that are themselves
most amiable, and deformed by no vice that is actually loath-
some ; the soul of goodness in him always warring with his
human frailty, — Sir Lancelot fully deserves the noble funeral
eulogy pronounced over his grave, and felt by all the elect to
be, in both senses, one of the first of all extant pieces of per-
fect English prose."

The poets of France at the end of the twelfth and the
beginning of the thirteenth centuries were scarcely less great
than their German and English contemporaries, though by a
curious fate, which they owe to the neglect of their fellow-
countrymen, they have been until recent years much less
known. It seems easy to trace the national characteristics of
France and Germany in the poetry of the two races even at
that time. Troubadour and trouv^re poetry is more trivial in
its subject matter; is less broad in its appeal to human sym^attxY^

632 ''PARSIFAL" AND jf^^AT L/TERARY Century. [Feb.,

less representative of the high aspirations of the human heart ;
but expressed with more attention to detail, with more graceful
elegance, with more studied solicitude for effect, and conse-
quently with more of the elements that make for passing
popularity. The lyric poetry of troubadour and trouvere, how-
ever, is at least as great as that which has been accepted by
any generation since as representative of its lyric spirit, and,
at the end of seven centuries, it still has a more than antiquar- I
ian interest and appeals to the world-soul with probably greater
power than the lyric poetry of any other epoch, with the
possible exception of the sympathetic lighter verse of the
Elizabethan times in English and the Renaissance period in
French.

The great epic writer in France, Chrestien of Troyes, who
first sang the romance of Erec and his wandering with the
faithful Enid, well deserves a place beside his great German
contemporaries, the Metstersingers and the Minnesingers.
There seems to be evidence that this romance of Erec was
the first work done by Chrestien, which of itself is the best
possible testimony of his greatness as a poetic genius. Indeed,
so much did his work influence his generation, that for many
of the critics he is supposed to be the originator of many
other of the Arthurian legends, and even of phases of the
story of the Holy Grail, as these were developed by his Ger-
man contemporaries. There is a metrical tale of Lancelot
called the " Chevalier de la Charette," and a metrical version ■
of the Graat story bearing the title " Percival le Gallois,"
which, if not entirely original, contains elements to be found in
no other versions, and of themselves sufficient to stamp their
inventor as one of the genial productive minds of all times. fl

Of the Troubadours perhaps more is known than of any other
poets of this thirteenth century. Kings did not disdain to be
poets in this new mode — La Gaya Ciencia — and Richard Coeur ■
de Lion is almost as famous as a poet as crusader, king, and
warrior. The names of such men as Peyrols, of Pierre Car- _
dinale, of Bertrand of Born, of Bernard de Ventadour are well |
remembered, and attest the greatness of the new school of
poetry. In lyric grace and beauty, and in the simple power
of rhythmic poetic expression, few poets of any time have
excelled these Troubadours of the ending twelfth and begin-
ning thirteenth century.

1904.] " Parsifal*' AND A great Literary Century. 633

Peyrols'

" So full of pleasure is my pain,
To me my sorrow is so dear,
That not the universe to gain,

Would I exchange a single tear " ;

or some of Bernard de Ventadour's love lyrics, or Bertrand de
Bern's:

" She cannot be mine ! Her star is too bright.
It beams too gloriously ;
She is radiant with majesty, beauty, and light.
And I unmarked must die ! "—

though both of the latter became monks towards the end of
their lives, are examples of lyric poetry of the highest order.
To this century in France we owe the most popular satire
that has ever been written, the famous romance of " Reynard
the Fox." Of course the antiquity of the Reynard story goes
in certain ways far beyond the thirteenth century. It seems

I likely that the original language of the epic in the form in
which we know it is the French of a Walloon or Picard dia-
lect, and that it was written somewhere between the Seine and
the Rhine. The popularity that this poem has maintained in

L every language since, and our own precious Brer Rabbit stories,

■ with all due honor to our poet who has popularized them once
more, and the fact that so great a genius as Goethe has taken
advantage of them for his own purpose, shows how close to
the heart of nature went this old poet, of the early thirteenth
century in France, for the materials for his satire of human
beings in the display of their qualities in animals.

Another great poem ol the century, also from France, that,

■ at least to the literary minds of many generations, has been a
source of pleasure and inspiration, as well as another means

■ of understanding the later Middle Ages, is "The Romance of
the Rose." Of the first four thousand Jines of this, particu-
larly, as they were written by William of Lorris, there is no
doubt that it is one of the most striking poems of all time.

■ Of its author, one of the most judicious and conservative
critics of our time does not hesitate to say, that " though

_ William of Lorris may receive but contemptuous treatment
I from persons who demand ' messages,' ' meamn^s,* a.w^ so ^c»\'Ctv»

B FOL. UCXVUl.—4t

'6ZA^ARS!FAL" AND A GREAT LITERARY CENTURY. [Feb.

others will find message and meaning enough in his allegorical
presentation of the perennial quest, of ' the way of a man with
a maid,' and more than enough beauty in the pictures with
which he has adorned it. He is indeed the first great word-
painter of the Middle Ages, and for long — almost to the close
of them — most poets simply copied him, whiie even the great-
est used him as a starting-point and source of hints Also,
besides pictures he has music — music not very brilliant or
varied, but admirably matching his painting ; soft, dreamy, not
so much monotonous as uniform with a soothing uniformity.
Few poets deserve better than William of Lorris the famous
hyperbole which Greek furnished in turn to Latin and to Eng-
lish. He is indeed ' softer than sleep,' and, as soft sleep is,
laden with gracious and various visions."

How thoroughly human in their sympathies were the French
writers of this period even in literature that is not of the
supreme importance of the great folk stories, can be best
judged from the romance of " Aucassin et Nicolette." Few
writers of romance have ever "seized the virgin jets of feeling
in young and innocent hearts," or marked the tone and flow
of familiar intercourse, with the success of this earliest of
modern fiction writers. There is a surprisingly simple yet
deliciously delicate art and a truth to nature, with a charm of
manner that will make the book a favorite for all coming
generations, now that its discovery has made it once more a
precious possession. It is the only one of these romances that
has been preserved for us, but we can readily understand that
there must have been many others constructed after this model.
A single manuscript copy of it remained to preserve it for us,
and it is possible, but not probable, that it was the greatest
of these romantic song stories; but it is much more likely that
the youth of the generations of the thirteenth century found
many such at hand to while away the hours in lonely castle
and fortress in long wintry seclusions.

No European country escaped the vivifying inspiration of
the time spirit. Just before the thirteenth century began, the
national genius of Spain brought forth a genius capable of
worthily expressing the chivalric ideals of the time, the famous
" Poema del Cid " — The Poem of the Cid. In a metre that is
rough and irregular, with many signs of the literary crudeness
of the time in which it originated, with childish, almost

1904.] "Parsifal" AND A great Literary Century. 635

trivial, repetitions at times to mar its interest and its efTec-
tiveness, "The Cid " still remains, by the wonderful humanly,
sympathetic quality of its characters, one of the great poems
of all time. It is a curious reflection on the more refined,
artistic methods of later literatures, that with all their literary
excellences, they have failed to produce such adequately human
expressions of what is closest to the heart of man as have these
old, simple, apparently inelegant poems. It is this which gives
to them, as to Homer, immortality of interest and enduring
life.

Even distant Iceland did not miss the influence of the
spirit that breathed all over civilized Europe. Many of the
fam >us Sagas were written during the thirteenth century.
Saxo Grammaticus wrote his famous history of Denmark at this
time, from which so many historical folk stories have been
gleaned. Saxo seems to have died about the end of the first
decade of the thirteenth century. Shakspere's scholars will
recall that it is to him that our great English poet owes the
story he dramatized as "Hamlet." In his "Saga Time" Mr.
John Fulford Vicary • records the fact that Snorri Sturlasson^
the writer of the " Younger Edda," flourished during the
earlier part of the thirteenth century; while the " Sturlunga
Saga," written by Sturla Thorgasson, received its literary form
towards the end of the century. The skalds, or poets, of that
time were marvellous men, who did and wrote amidst stirring
events of a lifetime of struggle and hardship. They were not
only able to accomplish much, but to record it with a striking
imagery and pathos that have made their literary work of inter-
est to far distant generations. It must not be forgotten that
when in the last generation William Morris, with his zeal for
bringing the English-speaking people back to nature, wished to
find subjects for his own poetry, he went to these Sagas of
the Northland. There is no doubt about the closeness to nature
which these northern skalds ever secured. As the study of
comparative literature becomes more common, there is ever a
better realization of how much the untutored generations, even
of distant lands, succeeded in finding proper artistic expression
for the inmost feelings of their generation.

To this same thirteenth century, in several countries, we
owe some of the greatest of the old Latin hymns. Among

• London: Kegan Paul, Trench & Co,, 1887.

"FARSlFAt* AND A GREAT LITERARY CENTURY. [Feb.,

tikem. especially, the " Dies Irae." the " Stabat Mater Dolorosa,"
and Bernard of Morlaix's great hymn, most familiar to
Engiish readers under the name of " Jerusalem the Golden,"
kave been the subject of admiring study on the part of the
hyma-mikers of all ages. It is very generally recognized now
by the bist literary critics of all periods of European literature
that no greater poems have ever been written than some of
these Latin hymns. The " Dies Irae," for instance, has been
the favorite poem of such very different literary characters,
most of them great poets themselves, as Goethe, Sir Walter
S-Ott, Samuel Johnson, Dryden, Byron, Friedrich Schlegel,
Dean Milman, Archbishop Trench, and Jeremiah Taylor.
Goethe introduces it, it will be remembered, into " Faust,"
Scott into the " Lay of the Last Minstrel," Mozart and Haydn
both set themselves the loving labor of giving it adequate
musical accompaniment. It is the sublimest of all uninspired
hymns.

Generally, when the Latin hymns are spoken of as poetry,
there is heard the remark: "Oh! rhymed, mediaeval Latin."
As if their poetic form were utterly in disaccord with the
spirit of the language. As a matter of fact these old Latin
hymn writers of the thirteenth century did two very wonderful
things. One was, that for the first time in its history they
made the Latin language an original vehicle for the expression
of pontic thought according to its own genius. Second, they
brought rhyme to such perfection that the developing modern
languages, which during this century for the first time began to
be used in literary fashion, took up this mode of expression in
a perfection that followed the sublimely beautiful models so
often resounding in their ears in the church services of the
time.

It may seem surprising to speak of these hymns as the
first original use of the Latin language in poetry. It must not
be forgotten, however, that the classical Latin poets were con-
fessed imitators of the Greek, and adopted Greek metres with-
out always succeeding in adapting them to the genius of the
Latin language. There are wtxy few scholars, versed in both
Greek and Latin, who do not feel that even in the greatest of
the classical Latin poetry they are listening to an echo of the
older Greek poets which, of course, when it resounds from
such geniuses as Virgil, or Ovid, or Horace (how much one

1904.] "Parsifal" AND A great Literary Century. 637

hesitates even to seem to impugn Horace's originality !) has a
distinct and even distinguished value of its own and some notes
of essential nationality, but lacks true native power.

Professor March, of Lafayette College, in his edition of the
Latin hymns, has stated this position very weU : "These hymns
were the first original poetry of the people in the Latin
language, unless perhaps those critics may be right who think
they find in Livy a prose rendering of earlier ballads. The
so-called classic poetry was an echo of Greek both in substance
and form, the matters and metres were both imitated, and the
poems were composed for the lovers of Grecian art in the
Roman court. It did not spring from the people, and it never
moved the people. But the Christian hymns were proper folk
poetry, the ' Bible of the People ' — their Homeric poems. Their
making was not so much speech as action. Legends described
some of the best of them as the inspired acts of Christian
heroes. They were in substance festive prayers, the simplest
rhythmic offering of thanks and praise to the Giver of light
and of rest, both natural and spiritual, at morning and even-
ing, and at other seasons suited to the remembrance and
rhythmical rehearsal of the truths of the Bible."

The other great accomplishment of the Latin hymns was
their training of the ear of the people for the appreciation of
rhyme and rhythm in poetry, and awakening the feeling for
similar appropriate poetic expression in the vulgar tongue.
During the century the modern languages, especially the Latin
tongues, were taking shape. Dante at the end of the thir-
teenth century represents the first great poet who wrote in
a Latin tongue of the common people. During the church
ceremonies the people heard over and over again, in the sing-
ing of these beautiful hymns, the sublimest vocal harmony. All
of the people attended church, and owing to the number of
church festivals observed they were lequired to be at services
at least a hundred times a year. We owe to the influence on
the mind^ of the people who were then developing our modern
languages in this frequent hearing of the Latin hymns, what-
e>rer possibilities for their harmonious poetic expression those
languages contain.

How great the influence of these hymns must have been in
this respect can be appreciated very well from the expressions
recently used with regard to one of them, at least, V>^ '^t\V;^■^%

638 "Parsifal" AND A great Literary Century. [Feb.,

the greatest living critic of European literature. In his recent
volume on twelfth and thirteenth century literature, The Flourish-
ing of Romance, Professor Satntsbury, of the University of Edin-
burgh, says with regard to one of these hymns :

" And from this time comes the greatest of all hymns, and one
of the greatest of all poems, the ' Dies Irx.' There have been
attempts — more than one of them — to make out that the ' Dies
Irae ' is no such wonderful thing after all : attempts which are,
perhaps, the extreme examples of that cheap and despicable
paradox which thinks to escape the charge of blind docility by
the affectation of heterodox independence. The judgment of
the greatest (and not always of the most pious) men of letters
of modern times may confirm those who are uncomfortable with-
out authority in a different opinion. Fortunately, there is not
likely ever to be lack of those who, authority or no authority,
in youth and in age, after much reading or without much, in
all time of their tribulation and in all time of their wealth, will
hold these wonderful triplets, be they Thomas of Celano's or
another's, as nearly or quite the most perfect wedding of sound
to sense that they know.

" It would be possible, indeed, to illustrate a complete dis-
sertation on the methods of expression in serious poetry from
the fifty-one lines of the ' Dies Irx.' Rhyme, alliteration,
cadence, and adjustment of vowel and consonant values — ^all
these ^things receive perfect expression in it, or, at least, in
the first thirteen stanzas, for the last four are a little inferior.
It is quite astonishing to reflect upon the careful art or the
felicitous accident of such a line as

"'Tuba mirum spargens sonum,'

with the thud of the trochee falling in each instance in a dif-
ferent vowel, and still more on the continuous sequence of
five stanzas, from " Judex ergo" to " non sit cassus," in which not
a word could be displaced or replaced by another without loss.
The climax of verbal harmony, corresponding to and express-
ing religious passion and religious awe, is reached in the last —

" ' Quxrens me sedisti lassus,
Redemisti crucem passus:
Tantus labor non sit cassus ! '

where the sudden change from the dominant e sounds (except

1904.] "Parsifal'' and a great Literary Century. 639

in the rhyme foot) of the first two lines to the a's of the last
is simply miraculous, and miraculously assisted by what may
be called the internal sub-rhyme of sedisti and redemisti. This
latter effect can rarely ]be attempted without a jingle ; there is
no jingle here, only an ineffable melody.

" After the ' Dies Irae,' no poet could say that any effect of
poetry was, as far as sound goes, unattainable, though few
could have hoped to equal it, and perhaps no one except
Dante and Shakspere has fully done so."

At the end of the thirteenth century came Dante, the
greatest of all the literary geniuses of the time, perhaps even
of all time. John Ruskin, in his Stones of Venice, says of him •

' " I think that the central man of all the world is represented
in perfect balance, the imaginative, moral, and intellectual

' faculties all at their highest, in Dante," According to the first
line of his " Divine Comedy " —

I "When our life's cares with me had half way sped" —

he was just thirty-five when the thirteenth century closed.
Whatever of influence his environment had on his education,

I his intellectual development, as far as the intellectual develop-
ment of a genius depends on his contemporaries, the refinement

\ of his taste, were all due to the thirteenth century. At the

! beginning of the twentieth century we are beginning to appre-
ciate him better than ever before. There are only two other
I names that we now mention in the same breath with his,
' Homer and Shakspere.

He is not nearly so distant nor unsympathetic to our
generation as it has sometimes been the custom to think.
Carlyle never said anything truer than the sentence in which
he insists upon this : " True souls in all generations of the
world who look on this Dante will find a brotherhood in him;
the deep sincerity of his thoughts, his woes, and hopes will
speak likewise to their sincerity \ they will feel that this Dante,
too, was a brother,"

People have sometimes spoken of Dante as a solitary phe-
\ nomenon coming in the midst of the Middle Ages as a being
j quite apart from and far above the times in which he lived.
Victor Hugo said that genius was a "a promontory jutting out
into the infinite," and Dante is often supposed to be a pre-
cipitous promontory whose peak is hidden in the clo\3,d«>, %x

640 "Parsifal" AND A great Literary Century. [Feb.,

least from his contemporaries. Nothing could well be more
false than this, and I think that my readers can at least now
be well aware of this falsity. There is not a single decade of
the thirteenth century that is not represented by some poet
whose works have been worthy to live for nearly seven cen-
turies. Of how many other centuries can anything like this be
said ? Dante is only the topmost summit of literary and artis-
tic expression in the wonderful hundred years of human endea-
vor, unequalled for its accomplishment in the expression of
grreat human thoughts by worthy symbols. He is only the
most exquisite product of the most original environment that
the world has ever known, that has left undying traces on the
civilization of every country of Europe.

Longfellow, in the introduction to his translations of a part
of the " Divine Comedy," has compared Dante's great poem to
a Gothic cathedral, and the comparison is eminently fitting and
shows how well our great American poet, whose " Golden
Legend " is itself an unsurpassed tribute to these tinies, en-
tered the very heart of the environment of which Dante is the
supreme literary exponent. Dante was only doing in literature
what the men who designed and built those magnificent archi-
tectural monuments to the faith, and the love of the beautiful
and the artistic genius of a great generation. To think of him
as standing alone or far above his contemporaries is utterly to
ignore all that was accomplished for art and literature in
Europe in this century.

How much Dante has been thought of by subsequent
generations can be best judged from .the number of books
published with regard to him. The catalogue of the Dante
library at Cornell is itself a large work, and more has been
written about him than any other man that ever lived, except
Him who was more than man. James Russell Lowell, in his
wonderful essay on Dante, which many have considered the
most illuminating estimate of him ever written, says : " The
man behind the verse is far greater than the verse itself, and
the impulse he gives to what is deepest and most sacred in us,
though we cannot always explain it, is none the less real and
lasting. Some men always remain outside their work, others
make their individuality felt in every part of it — their very
life vibrates in every verse, and we do not wonder that it has
made them 'lean for years.' The virtue that has gone out of

1904] ** Parsifal'* AND A great Literary Century. 641

I
I

them abides in what they do." And so it was with Dante,
who above all men who have ever lived found supremely suita-
ble expression for the feelings within him, at a time when there
are those who would have us believe men had scarcely risen
at all to the heights of human expression.

Perhaps the highest tribute that can be paid to all the art
and literature in this century is its supreme originality. Classic
ideas and ideals could scarcely help to affect to some degree
the mediaeval mind ; but this was but very slightly the case,
and the triumphant transformation of these traces of the old
into supremely original work is strikingly indicative of the
independent genius of the time. As Taylor, in The Classical
Heritage of the Middle Ages^ says : • ** Between the twelfth and
fourteenth centuries mediaeval art culminates in styles organic
in their growth and novel and original. This art being no
copy, has mastered and transformed the suggestions from the
past which it has used. Its growth and greatness spring rather
from faculties and capacities, tastes, conceptions, and ideals,
evolved and matured in the course of mediaeval progress and
development, from which the general educational and evolu-
tionary influence of the antique was never absent."

It is a matter for never ending felicitation that at last these
ages are coming to their deserved meed of appreciation. We
shall get away from the conventionality that has wrapped us
round, binding minds as well as hands, just to the extent that
we come into admiration and emulation of our wonderful Chris-
tian forefathers.

'The Columbia University Press, 1901.

642

THE Young Hero of the Sioux.

[Feb,

THE YOUNG HERO OF THE SIOUX,

BY MARY CATHERINE CROWLEY.
Author «f ' A Datighter of New France."

?OR a week the bill-boards had been aflame with
red and yellow posters announcing that, on the
twenty-eighth of July, "Pawnee Bill's great and,
since the retirement of Mr. Cody, the only
genuine Wild West Show, would appear at
Detroit in two performances solely."

On the evening before that day of days the old circus-
grounds were but a field of stubble and bare spots amid the
well-kept lawns of the neighborhood and the luxuriant foliage
of the broad avenues.

The boys played base-ball there and sailed boats in the
little pond made by the rains, but even the most enthusiastic
among them would not have called it a place of beauty.
Then, all at once — Presto, what a change I Silently during the
night came an army of workers. In the light of the early
morning the fallow field blossomed with white tents and Indian
tepees of mats and skins, and from the top of each floated a
red or blue or gold-colored pennon.

Hefore Jong every idle man and lad in the vicinity found an
excuse for loitering about the roped-off space that surrounded
Uio nomads' village. The champing of unseen horses and, now
and again, the shrill neigh of some sociable broncho, were
•ounda that made them impatient for what was to follow.

The appearance at the entrance to one and another of
the tents of the dark figure of a redskin chief, solemn, and
loeniin^ly oblivious of the presence of the hangers-on, or a
copper* h lied boy, lithe and agile as a roebuck, still further
piqued the curiosity and interest of the rapidly-increasing throngs.

A» nine o'clock, the hour of the street parade, approached
they were vouchsafed glimpses of the wonderful ponies from
Ihc plains, and of their clever Sioux riders.

At last, at the sound of a gong, the bewildering mass of
moving color fell into line and the cavalcade started.

What a picture it was I— the long procession of cowboys in

1904.]

The Young Hero of the Sioux.

643

costume with their flat sombreros, their high boots and spurs;
Indian warriors clad in deerskins, their faces painted in ver-
milion and ochre, their heads crowned with feathers that ex-
tended in a bristling streamer down upon their shoulders, like
the quills of a porcupine upon a gigantic scale ; the splendid
horses with arching necks and prancing pace, their glossy manes
decorated with ribbons. How spirited they were, and how
they cavorted 1 their riders sitting firm as graven images the
while, and guiding them with the lightest of reins.

Of all the braves who rode that day no one bore himself
more proudly or sat his broncho with greater ease or freedom
than the child Jose, son of Blue Horse, the full-blooded Sioux,
and his wife, Yellow Bird.

"See the little fellow! See the little fellow! He rides as
well as the big chief," cried the gamins in the streets as he passed.

Jos^ did not understand what they said, for he knew only
the language of his people, and spoke that but haltingly. He
had had many things to do in his short life of four years
without giving over-much time to learning to talk.

But there was no mistaking the meaning of the cheers of
the '• paleface boys " and men ; the admiring glances and the
waving of white handkerchiefs by the kind looking, gaily-dressed
women among the crowds that bordered the route of the
parade, pressing so close to the curbstone of the walks that
the police had to order and press the people back with threat-
ening club, lest they be trampled under the feet of the horses.

"The little fellow! The little fellow!"

Jose knew all eyes were upon him. And so he rode his best,
holding himself straight as an arrow like the chief his father;
looking down like a little king upon the populace and the
sights of the white man's city. For the saddle was his throne;
he was born to it ; born to ride in freedom over the prairie on
Swift Hoofs, his beautiful pony ; born to be the sachem of his
'tribe, his mother told him.

Therefore, he must show himself to be like a great warrior,
and neither look to the right nor left, nor smile at the white
boys who laughed and shouted to attract his attention.

But, more than all, he must ride well so that his father
might be proud of him ; and his mother, catching him to her
heart when the parade was over, might tell him he had done
bravely.

544 THE Young Hero of the Sioux. [Feb.,

What did it matter that his hands and head were hot, that
when last he rode it had been in a pelting shower?

" Mahingan;" he said to his cousin the young Sioux who
rode just behind him, " Jos^ has a stinging arrow in his breast;
so it must be when a warrior is shot in battle."

" The papoose is sick ; he should have stayed behind in the
tepee," said Mahingan anxiously.

"It was my father's will that I should ride; a warrior must
endure such things/' answered little Jose proudly. "Jose
will think of the Fire and Ghost dances and the tortures that
make a man strong to suflFer. Go soft, Swift Hoofs; go
soft."

How long the way was! A mist came before the eyes of
the papoose ; he felt queer, as if, in spite of himself, he was
going to fall from the saddle. But he clung on. Swift Hoofs
seemed to understand and was very gentle. Jose thought of
the plains now and hardly saw the people in the streets.

When he left the reservation the Black Robe had laid a
gentle hand upon his head and bade him obey his father and
mother, and thus he would gain the blessing of the " Breath
Master." Well, was not that what he was doing?

But ah, at last, at last, the parade was over; the cavalcade
rode tn again to the circus- grounds ; the canvas walls of one
of the white tents hid Swift Hoofs and the wonderful little
Sioux rider from view.

Then it was that little Josd broke into a shout of triumph
more startling than would have been the war-whoop of an
enemy. His eyes shone like the stars above the prairie, a
deeper red glowed beneath his dark skin, and when Mahingan
lifted him from his pony he struggled to be free like some
wild little creature of the hunting-grounds.

His mother hastened to catch him to her heart, indeed, but
it was with a sharp exclamation of sorrow.

The youngest Sioux warrior was raving with the fever of
pneumonia, and would never ride again.

By the next morning it was over. The Breath Master had
blessed little Jose with the blessing that would last for ever.

Nevertheless, the Indian mother wailed and tore her hair.
For, stoical as her race might be, a mother's grief must have
its way.

" Ehu, Ehu ! " she cried. " Never was there a better

1 904- J

The Young Hero of the Sioux.

645

papoose ! He was like a little squirrel ; he was like a robin,
bravest of the birds ! "

*' He would have been a brave chief," said Blue Horse.
Ah, if little Jose could have heard him!

Mahtngan said nothing; he could find no words to tell of
his love for the papoose who had daily ridden before him in
the parade.

"I am sorry, but the troop must go on," said Pawnee Bill,
alias William Markham, manager of the show.

*' Blue Horse will stay behind," replied the big Sioux, gruffly.

But it could not be; Blue Horse had given his word to
ride in the next town. The word of a chief was not to be
broken ; he and Yellow Bird must go, as he had promised.
Mahingan would stay.

So it happened that when the tents of the Wild West
Show were folded and packed ; when, in the early morning,
the train of cowboys and Indians rode silently away ere the
city was awake, there still remained on the circus-grounds a
solitary tepee stripped of its gay festoons of colored cloth, its
fluttering pennons; with no adornment save the rude figures
of bird and beast drawn upon its sides, the figures of the tribe
totem. A closed tepee, into whose seclusion the boys and
other idlers who lingered about the grounds dared not pene-
trate. Inside, upon a bed of branches torn from the neighbor-
ing trees and covered with an Indian blanket, lay little Josd,
more beautiful than was ever a statue of bronze.

He wore the war costume of a warrior, and on his feet
were moccasins richly embroidered with beads and porcupine
quills.

Beside him, and almost as motionless, sat Mahingan, with
bowed head and face concealed in the folds of his blanket,
which he wore with pathetic dignity.

So the hours passed. At last, when it was afternoon, a
white man raised the curtain that hung before the tepee, and
entering, stood speechless before the Indian's sorrow.

Mahingan glanced half defiantly at the intruder. Then he
rose without speaking, crossed the further side of the tepee
and plucked several feathers from his head-dress that hung
upon the wall.

Returning, he placed the quills in the moccasins of the
papoose. It must needs be that little Jos^ should rest among

646 THE YOUNG HERO OF THE SlOUX. [Feb.,

the children of the palefaces, at least his spirit must be pro-
-vided with pinions on which to fly away to the plains, the
haunts of his own people, or it might be to wing its way to
the home of the Great Spirit.

But though Mahingan clung to the traditions of his tribe,
he was a Christian. In place of the wampum necklace of his
fathers he wore a chaplet that had been given him by the
Black Robe at the reservation.

Silently he took it from his neck and wound it around the
chubby hands that but the day before yesterday had so cleverly
guided the reins of Swift Hoofs.

Still the white man lingered.

" Give me awhile longer," said the Indian, and forthwith
thrust him from the tepee.

The white man was patient. As he waited from the tent
arose the sound of music. Mahingan was singing a magnifi-
cent dirge for his little friend and comrade. Its soulful beauty,
its over- powering sadness, were familiar to the listener.

To his astonishment, he recognized the music; it was
Chopin's Funeral March, rendered as in a civilized community
it had certainly never been rendered before.

No doubt the Sioux had learned the air from having heard
it played by the military band of the agency from which he
came, the Rosebud Agency, in far South Dakota.

The wild, solemn song died away, and Mahingan began to
pray in his own language.

At length the prayer also ceased, and Mahingan came out
of the tepee.

" Here is money," he said to the white man, as he emptied
his pouch of all the silver and the golden e^le it contained;
*' lay the papoose to sleep as becomes the son of a chief. I
will come again, and if all is not well done, you shall answer
for it. Remember ! Plant a cross where he rests, as the Black
Robe has taught us."

Such is the story of little Jos^ the fearless papoose. This
is the reason why, all during the rest of the long, bright sum-
,mer, Swift Hoofs, the handsomest of the ponies, was led in the
street parade without a rider. For not a Sioux of the Wild
West Show would permit either an Indian or a white boy to
ride the pony of little Jos^.

1904.]

Christine de Pisan.

CHRISTINE DE PISAN: HER LIFE AND WRITING:).

BY FREDERICK P. HENRY, A.M.. M.D.

l | Wi^*^V J^HRISTINE DE PISAN was the daughter of
Thomas, variously styled De Pezzano, De Pizzano.
De Pezano, De Boulogne, and De Pisan, Shortly
after her birth in 1364 Thomas was obliged to
visit Bologna, where his property was situated, in
order to transact certain affairs of business; and while there he
was invited by two kings, viz., those of France and Hungary, to
take up his residence at their courts. The great personal merit

tof Charles the Wise, the magnificence of the court of France,
the University of Paris, were enough to determine his choice.
The intention of Thomas was to return to Italy after pass-
ing a year in F" ranee ; but at the end of this period, the king
was unwilling to part with his astrologer. He insisted upon
his bringing his family to France and becoming a permanent
resident of that country.
B During the next eleven years very little is recorded of

' Christine. We know that she was brought up at the court,
" en fille de qualite/' and that she early gave evidence of a
studious disposition, which her father did his best to cultivate,
the astrologer being far ahead of his time in his advocacy of
the higher education of women. Among her studies was Latin,
P in which, judging from her subsequent researches, she must
have been thoroughly grounded.

She was wooed by numerous young men of distinction, *' de
robe et d'epee " ; but her choice, or rather, that of her father,
fell upon a young man of Picardy, Etienne du Castel, who was
endowed with the advantages of lineage, probity, and knowledge,*
but was deficient in more worldly possessions. He married
Christine when she was but fifteen years old (1379), and the
union was a most happy one.

The young couple took up their abode with the astrologer,

» whose establishment was already an extensive one. The enor-
mous pensions he received from the king were consumed by
his magnificent mode of living and his liberality to the ^oot.

" Qui avail de Ib naissonce, de la probilt et du s/^&noVx."

^48 CHRISTINE DE PiSAN. [Feb.,

Charles V. died in 1380 at the age of forty- four, after reigning
sixteen years. Thomas of Pisa fell into disfavor with, or, rather,
was neglected by, the new rigime. A portion of his emolu-
ments was withdrawn and the remainder was poorly paid. Old
age, chronic disease, and perhaps also grief and disappointment,
brought him to the grave a few years after the death of the
king, his benefactor. " Thus," says Boivin, " ended the life of
this philosopher, the most celebrated and, apparently, the most
skilful of the fourteenth century."

Christine, who was devoted to her father's memory and
most emphatic in his praise, tells us that he died in the Catho-
lic faith.

On the death of Thomas, £tienne du Castel became the
head of the family, but in 1389 Christine became a widow at
the age of twenty- five, with three young children and a large
establishment to maintain. She was left utterly destitute.
The first years of her widowhood were embittered by lawsuits
which she was obliged to bring against delinquent debtors or
to sustain against fraudulent creditors, but in the fourteenth
century there was as little justice for the poor in purse as
there was of so-called honor for the poor in spirit.^ She prints
a striking picture of these sorrowful years during which she
haunted the palace from morning till evening, waylaying the
judges, pursuing the advocates, flattering the "huissiers," and
almost dying of cold in the huge l&w courts. She was also a
prey to the impertinence of so-called gallantry, and many am
insult she ignored which, if resented, would have injured her
cause, which was that of her little children. In her destitution
she restrained her pride and concealed her sufferings.

At last she resolved to retire to her study and seek con-
solation in the books which she had inherited from her father
and her husband. The method of her study was systematic.
As the child begins with the alphabet, so, she tells us, she
began with the most ancient histories, viz., those of the Hebrews,
the Assyrians, and the origins of government; thence descending
to the Romans, the French and Bretons, and later to works
of science. In addition, incredible as it may seem, she read
the works of Homer, Plato, Aristotle, Galen, Avicenna, Chry-
sostom, Democritus, Virgil, Horace, Ovid, Tibullus, Catullus,
Juvenal, Boetius, Apuleius, Vegetius, Frontinus, Trojus Pom-
peius, Lucan, Cicero, Valerius Maximus, Suetonius, Seneca,
Hyeronimus, Augustinus. Whether she read these in the

1904.]

CHUrSTlNE DE PfSAN.

649

original or not, is little to the purpose^ for she was in search
of facts rather than graces of style.

It is next to impossible that such a mass of reading, neces-
sarily devoured with haste, could have been thoroughly digested,
and yet Christine, in her quotations and references, is remarka-
bly accurate. A glaring mistake is to be found in the twenty-
fourth chapter of her history of Charles V., where she con-
founds Scipio, the conqueror of Hannibal, with Pompey, the
conqueror of Mithridates.

In 1399, when thirty-five years of age, she began to write
systematically. Six years later (1405) she published one of her
best known and most interesting works, La Vision de Christine ;
one of the most interesting, because from it and from Le Livrg
de Mutacion de Fortune has been obtained most of the materials
of her biography. For example, in the Vision she tells us that
from 1399, when, as above stated, she began to write, until 1405,
the date of the publication of the Vision, she had written fifteen
volumes, not counting many small ditties.

Her fame did not remain confined to France, but, through
the medium of the Earl of Salisbury, extended to England.
This nobleman, who was not only a lover of poetry but a poet
as well,* is said to have visited Paris several times on business
for Richard II , and especially in connection with the negotiations
for the hand of Isabella, the daughter of Charles VI., and to
have sought out Christine, whose poems had attracted his notice
and excited his admiration. The relations between the Earl of
Salisbury and Christine of Pisa, while free from the breath of
scandal, must have been intimate, for she permitted him to take
back with him to England her son, Jean du Castel, " assez abille
et bien chantant enfant," then aged thirteen, the earl promising
to educate him with his own son, who was of like age, and to
provide for his future career. Christine expressly states that
her son accompanied Salisbury to England at the time of Rich-
ard's marriage with his child-queen Isabellaj, which took place
at the church of St. Nicholas of Calais on All-Saints day
(October 31), I396.t

•" Gracieux chevalier," says Christine, " ct luy-mesme gracieux dkJeur."
♦ Dr. Friedrich Koch, in his excellent memoir (LthtH umi Werke dtr Christine dt Pitam) ,
state* that this event took place in 1397. and that, therefore, Jean du Castel, who was thirteen
years old when lalien to England, was born in 1384. Turner, Lingard, Hume, Keiglillcy, and
Agnes Strickland all agree, however, in assigning the date of this royal marriage to the
year 1396.

VOL. LXXVMI. — 42

6so Christine de pisan. [Feb.,

Christine did not long enjoy the friendship and favor of the
Earl of Salisbury. Salisbury was executed early in 1400.

Jean du Ca&tel was about seventeen years old at the time
of his patron's death. It is recorded by Christhie herself that,
after Salisbury's death, Henry IV. took charge of her son and
treated him with great kindness. The royal favor enjoyed by
Jean du Castel was due, not to any personal merit of his own
but to his mother's reputation,^ which, as above stated, had
extended to England through the medium of the Earl of Sal-
isbury. In fact, it is a question whether at this period Chris-
tine's reputation was not greater in England than in France.
That this was the case may be inferred from the fact that she
found it more difficult to place her son in France than in Eng-
land. Among the effects of the Earl of Salisbury were several
collections df Christine's poems, which came into Henry's pos-
session and interested him to such an extent that he urgently
invited their author to come to his court. By her own con-
fession she practised considerable dissimulation with regard to
this invitation, in order that she might regain possession of her
son, who was still in England and whom Henry might have
held as hostage until her arrival at his court.

After much temporizing and the expenditure of some of
her choicest possessions, her books, in gifts, or rather in bribes,*
Christine obtained permission for her son to come to France,
the understanding evidently being that Jean du Castel was to
return to England with his mother. No sooner had Christine
regained possession of her son than she flatly refused the King
of England's invitation.

Christine first attempted to place him in the service of the
Duke of Orleans, her application taking the form of a poem,
which is included in the list of her ballads.

The ballad, which was written in 1400 or 1401, was a failure
so far as the object of its author was concerned. Jean du
Castel was not employed by the Duke of Orleans, but soon
afterward was taken into the service of his brother, Philip^
Duke of Burgundy, with whom he remained until the death of
the latter on April 27, 1404. This only remaining son of
Christine is said by Martin Franc, in his Champion des Dames
(1440), to have become a distinguished poet. He has been
confounded with another Jean Castel or Du Castel, a chroni-*

*". . . de mes livres me cousta que con^^ ot mon dit fils de me venir querir " . . .

cler ol Louis XL The latter may have been a grandson of
Christine.

The history of Thomas of Pisa, so far as concerns his invi-
tations to foreign courts, was repeated about this time (1400 or
1401) in that of his daughter.

Christine's refusal of this invitation was certainly wise, for
the Duke of Milan died suddenly of the plague at Melegnano
in 1402. Turbulent times immediately followed his death.

'Vhrfstinede^J'tsan,

[Feb.,

**Q$Ul *Galeazzo's duchy was a masterpiece of mechanical con-
iriv«Ace, the creation of a scheming intellect and lawless will.
WImii the mind which had planned it was withdrawn, it fell
H piec«9, and the very hands which had been used to build it
Mp*d to scatter its fragments."*

tt can well be imagined that, while the invitations of Henry
W. *nd the Duke of Milan were under consideration, Chris-
\\Vk%*% ability for work was seriously impaired. Be this as it
ttt^y, the period of her greatest literary activity immediately
(oUowod her decision to spend the rest of her days in France.
Htr most important works in prose and verse appeared in
rtpid iiuccession between the years 1403 and 1406. Le Livre
JU Chtmin de long estude was completed on March 20, 1403,
and dedicated to the Duke de Berry. It is an allegorical poem
of more than 6,000 stanzas, and is essentially a panegyric up-
on the wisdom of the lunatic, Charles VL Its chief interest
to<day is found in the lines which contain references to Chris-
line's happy marriage, the death of her husband, and other
autobiographical facts.

On November 14 of the same year (1403) Le Livre de la
Mutacion de Fortune was finished, and on January i, 1404, it
was presented as a new year's gift to Philip, Duke of Bur-
gundy. This extraordinary allegory, the chief design of which
seems to have been to disclose Christine's historical and classical
learning, closes with a reference to events and persons of
contemporary interest, among which are the misfortunes of the
late King John, and the malady of his grandson, Charles VI. ,^
the reigning monarch.

It was the perusal of this work that induced Philippe le
Hardi, Duke of Burgundy, to entrust Christine with the most
honorable commission of writing the life of his brother, the
late King of France, Charles V.

Christine lost no time in beginning her history of Charles
v., a work which, both from the nature of its subject and the
original manner in which it is composed, deservedly ranks as a
French classic. It is published in the fifth volume of the
•'Collection Univcrsclle des Memoires particuliers relatifs a
I'histoirc de France," under its original title : Le Livre des Fails
#/ Bonnes Afofurs du sage Roy, Cftarles V. It is the first of
Christine's prose compositions, and probably the best known of
'John .^ddingion S/monds. Article " ItAly," in Eiuyciofmdia Britsmmit*.

I904-]

CHRfSTlNE DE PiSAN.

653

all her works. It is divided into three parts, of which the
first was completed in less than four months from the time of
its inception.

Christine's history of Charles V, is rather a eulogium than
a history. She can scarcely be said to have fulfilled the duty
of the historian as defined by Cicero in his famous epigrammatic
sentence: " Ne quid falsi dicere audeat, ne quid veri non
audeat," Nevertheless her work is of the greatest value and
interest to students of the reign of Charles the Wise. As he
was a goDd king and his reign a great one, Christine, in prais-
ing both, does not depart to any great extent from the path of
truth. She possessed a great advantage over most biographers

kings in that she was well acquainted with Charles and his
court. According to the criticism of to day, the work is marred
by long digressions which display, as they were doubtless intended
to do, her acquaintance with classical writers such as Aristotle,
Vegetius, and many others. Yet as De Julleville remarks, no
one his better described the attractive grace of the Duke of
Orleans, brother of Charles VL, or depicted more clearly the
appearance and manners of his father^ Charles V.

This history of Charles V. was the first of a series of prose
compositions of which La Vision d^ Christine, written in 1405,
was the second. This remarkable work is in the form of an
allegory, the characters being personified abstractions, such as
Chaos, Fortune, Opinion, Fraud, and Philosophy. France is
prominent among them under the name of Libera. Apart from
the autobiographical fragments, which are to us of the greatest
importance, there are two passages which seem to the writer
worthy of special mention. The first is that in which Christine
traces the origin of the French nation through Pharamond to
Priam, King of Troy. This genealogical descent was generally
accepted in Christine's day and continued so to be until the
early part of the eighteenth century, when it was completely
refuted by Freret. What penalty Christine would have under-
gone for supporting a difiFerent opinion it is impossible to con-
jecture, but it would probably have been severe; for Freret, in
what we regard as a much more enlightened age, was immured
in the Bastile for about four months for destroying this historical
delusion.*

• Friiret also maintained that the word " franc," instead of meaning free, is really a cor-
ruption, through different Germanic dialects, of the Latin ftrvxt

The second passage above referred to is that in which
Christine predicts her posthumous fame. " Opinion " tells her
that she (Christine) was born at an unpropitious time; i.e., at
a time when the sciences were like things out of season; but
that at a later period, " ceulx qui Tentendront en diront bien
et Je temps avenir plus en sera parle que a ton vivant." The
date of this posthumous fame was vastly more distant than
Christine supposed, for it is only now, after the lapse of five
hundred years, that fuil recognition is being accorded to her
remarkable merit.

The next two works of Christine were written between
1405 and 1407, and are complementary to each other. They
are Le Livre des Fails d'Armes et de Chevalerie and Le Livre
du Corps de PoUicie. The first of these is probably the most
extraordinary book ever written by a woman. It is a treatise,
10 to speak, upon the jurisprudence of war and the manner of
conducting it. The work is a complete manual for the officer
and soldier, and is chiefly derived from the writings of
Vcgctiiis and Frontinus, The writer enters into the minutest
detiiis concerning the provisioning and defence of a garrison,
the overcoming of obstacles to the march of an army, and lays
great stress upon the importance of maps of the country which
it is traversing. In the fourth and last part of the work
truces, safe-conducts, and letters of marque are discussed, and
the question is raised whether a safe-conduct given by a
Christian prince to a Saracen should be respected by other
Christian princes. To this Christine replies " no," and " be-
cause the Saracens are enemies of all Christians." This
opinion is in complete accord with the prevalent views of the
period, but in condemning letters of marque she was many
centuries ahead of her time.

The literary style of this work is inferior to Christine's
other prose compositions. As she herself confesses, its sub-
ject was distasteful to her. Nevertheless, it was a most timely
publication, for the French were demoralized by dissensions
and civil strife, and their army was in urgent need of the
discipline she inculcates. Had her precepts been put into
immediate practice, it is possible that France might have been
spared the disgraceful and disastrous defeat of Agincourt.

Le Livre du Corps de PoUicie, which was written immedi-
ately after the last-mentioned work, is a treatise on morals

1904]

Christine de Pis an.

«^S

addressed to the three great classes into which the French
nation was then divided, namely, the princes, the nobles, and
the people at large. In this treatise Christine has, through
her precepts, inferentially described the internal life, the life of
the mind and soul, of the people of her day. It may, there-
fore, be regarded, as far as it goes, as the antithesis, or, rather,
the complement, of the work of Froiasart, who concerned him-
selt almost exclusively with the external world, its fetes, tour-
nanents, and battles. Froissart is objective, Christine sub-
jective.

The two most striking features of this treatise are, first, a
scathing denunciation of the disorders of the secular clergy ;
and, secondly, the suggestion that taxation should not be limited
to those least able to endure it. This last suggestion was truly
revolutionary, and must have been highly displeasing to the
governing classes.

One cannot estimate too highly the courage which inspired
Christine to strike such a blow at the very root of the feudal
system. It was ineffective, it is true, and could only havs
recoiled upon herself, for the people whom she befriended were
blind and deaf, so far as her writings were concerned.

There is a sequence in the works of Christine, the clew to
which is to be found in the fact that she had ever in mind
the uplifting of her sex and its vindication from the aspersions
which, during the reign and through the example of Isabel de
Biviere, were only too well merited. This statement as to the
design of her work applies particularly to her poems, although
it attains its highest development in the two prose composi-
tions: La Cite des Dames and Le Livre des Trois Vtrtus, or,
as it is also called, Le Tresot de la Cite des Dames. Just as
Le Livre des Fails d'Armes et de Chevalerie and Lc Livre du
Corps de Pollicie were inspired by and complementary to the
history of Charles V., so were La Cite des Dames and Le Livre
dts Trois Vertus inspired by and complementary to the poems
called l'£piire au Dieu d' Amour (1399) and Le Dit dc la Rose
(1402).

La Cite des Dames and Le Livre des Trois Vertus are addressed
particularly to women, and both, In accordance with the taste
of the age, are allegorical. The first is, for the most part, a
compilation of the heroic deeds of women recorded in fable
an i history, whether these deeds relate to bravery, virtue,

656 Christine de pis an. [Feb.,

patience, or self-abnegation. The heroines of antiquity are too
well known at the present day to excite the interest which
they doubtless aroused in the earliest readers of the work. It
is in Christine's contemporaries that we are most interested, and,
fortunately, she refers to many of them. She does not limit
her praises to the princesses of the court and to other women
of rank, but takes account of the heroism and talent of the
lowly. For example, she extols the talent of a skilful female
artist named Anastaise, who could illustrate a book better than
any living man and to whom we are doubtless indebted
for some of the superb manuscripts of Christine's composi-
tions.

The Tresor de la Citi des Dames is a treatise upon the
duties of women in all stations of life. The work abounds Id
valuable information concerning the domestic life and the morality
of the time, and contains numerous details which are scarcely to
be found elsewhere, and are conspicuously absent from the
chronicles of Froissart. The morality of the book is pure, its
counsels wise and practical. The ideal which Christine sets
before women is not an impossible, or even a discouraging one.
It is to maintain, outside of the household, the spirit of peace,
sweetness, and indulgence, and, within it, good order, harmony,
dignity of manner, and wise economy. Christine, herself a
student, advises women to study, but with the object of develop-
ing their intelligence and elevating their sentiments ; not with
the ambitious and absurd idea of dethroning man and reigning
in his place.

Just after the two last- mentioned works were completed
Christine, in the name of her sex, made a passionate assault
upon Le Roman de la Rose of Jean de Meun, which was also
attacked at the same time by the celebrated Gerson,* chancellor
of Notre Dame, because of its abuse of the clergy.

The civil war, which continued without intermission after
the assassination of the Duke of Orleans (1407}, seems to have
suppressed Christine's literary enthusiasm. Nevertheless, in the
midst of this uproar Christine endeavored to make herself
heard. She wrote a lamentation upon the evils of the civil war
(14 10) and Le Livre de la Paix^ a pathetic pleading for peace
(141 2-1 3). Then France became engulfed in a sea of troubles,
and, after the publication of a poem entitled I'Oraison Notre
* Whom MicheleC calls the greatest man of the fifteenth century.

1904.]

Christine de pis an.

657

Dame (1414),* which is virtually a farewell to the world,
Christine was no more heard until after the lapse of fifteen
years. The invasion of the English, the defeat of Agincourt
(October 25, 141 5), the occupation of Paris by the English and
Burgundians, and the massacre or flight of all her friends and
protectors, were enough misfortunes to discourage a much greater
genius than she possessed. She fled from Paris and took refuge
in a convent — probably that of Poissy, which her daughter had
entered many years before, and the year of Christine's admission
was 14 1 S. This is established beyond a doubt by one of those
autobiographical references which are so frequent in her works,
whether in prose or verse. The one now alluded to occurs in a
poem dated July 31, 1429. It is a song of triumph over the suc-
cesses of the immortal Maid who, about two months before, had
compelled the English to abandon the siege of Orleans. The
news of the reviving fortunes of the French and their miraculous
deliverance reached Christine in her cloister and inspired her
last poem.

Whatever may be the exact date of our poet's death, it is
certain that she attained a good old age, for if she died in
1429, the earliest possible date of her death, she was sixty-five
years old; for she was born in 1364.

At no period since her death has her name been quite for-
gotten. For many centuries, however, it was known only to
the learned few, and even with them this knowledge was by
no means precise. Her writings being, for the most part,
unprinted, were soon forgotten. It was reserved for the end
of the nineteenth century to reproduce her poetical works,
which, in the opinion of Dc Julleville, are inferior to her prose
compositions.

That she was highly esteemed by contemporary opinion is
proved, not by that lowest of all standards, the monetary value
of her compositions, f but by her invitations to foreign courts
and the admiration of such a competent judge as the Earl of
Salisbury. In addition we have the testimony of Eustache
Deschamps, a contemporary poet and the satirist of his time,
who addressed laudatory lines to Christine.

* I have followed Robineau and Koch in assigning this poem to the year 1414. Paul

Meyer, in the introduction to the third volume of the (Euvrts Po^tigues de Chrutint dt Pisam,

contends that It was written at a much earlier period, viz., in 140a or 1403.

L t In the catalogue of the library of the Due dc Berry, compiled in 1416. the history of

I Charles is appraised ui " 60 soh parisis"! Vide Bibliotk/^me Protypografhiqut, Paris, 1830.

658

Christine de Pisan,

[Feb.,

About a century after her death the celebrated poet, Clement
Marot ([495-1544.), in a rondeau addressed to Madame Jehanne
Gaillard, " femme de bon sfavoir," thus speaks of Christine :

" D'avoir le prix en science et doctrine
Bien merita de Pisan la Christine
Durant ses jouri. Mais ta plume doree
D'elle seroit 4 present ador^e." •

The last and most important proof of the contemporary
estimate of Christine is the fact that one of her works, Le Livre
des Faits d'Armes et de Ckevalerie, was translated into English
and printed by Caxton, at the command of Henry VII.

The latter-day critics of the works of Christine de Pisan
are practically in accord with regard to her standing among the
writers of her time. Roblneau assigns her a place, as poet,
between Charles d'Orleans and Eustache Deschamps, and side
by side with Froissart. He draws a striking analogy between
her poems and those of the great French chronicler. In both
there is the same tendency to allegory, but Christine, while
displaying less of art in the form of her poems, is more simple
in style than Froissart, more tender and elevated en her senti-
ments. As historians these two writers are rather to be con-
trasted than compared. Froissart is an inimitable narrator of
facts, whether obtained directly or at second-hand, while with
Christine facts are subordinate to the morals to be drawn from
them. She is first and foremost a moralist, the first of her
own, and one of the most remarkable of any age. She was a
writer with a purpose — that of reproving, exhorting, and elevat-
ing the people, high and low. If Froissart had any moral
purpose in his writings, he sedulously kept it subordinate to the
entertainment of his readers, whom he leaves to draw their own
conclusions from the facts he narrates. This is perhaps one of
the reasons of his continued popularity and, conversely, explains
the neglect of the more pedagogical writer. Another reason
for the latter fact may be found in the more complicated style
of Christine's prose compositions. Simpler in her poetry, she
is much more complex than Froissart in her prose. Her more
studied works abound in learned and involved phrases which

•This statement may be found in the Voyage d'Allcmagne of Dom MabiUon, tlie celebrated
scholar ("diplomatisie") of the sevcnieenih century. — See ColUflion UnivtntUt dci M^mcira
fariUulien relalifs .; i' Hisloire dt Fntitct, tome v., p. 97.

are apparently imitations of the Ciceronian style of eloquence.
It has been wrongly supposed, says De Julleville, and still is
by some, that this latinistic mode of expression which Rabelais
ridicules, while not wholly free from it himself, was not intro-
duced until the Renaissance — /. c, during the second half of the
fifteenth century. It is forgotten by these critics that there
was a first renaissance which began in France during the reign
of Charles V., when the first translators of the classics, among
whom were Bersuire and Oresme, had already made current in
the vocabulary of literary men a great number of learned neolo-
gisms. From that time every one conversant with Latin was
anxious to display his learning by the employment, in his ver-
nacular, of the words and phrases alluded to above.* Christine is
somewhat dominated by this pedantry. As already stated, she
■ is at her best in her most spontaneous compositions, such as
the ballads in which she deplores her unhappy fate and bewails
her misfortunes.

*Nist. dt la Langut tt dt ia LUUraturt Franfaisi, totne ii., pp. 357- jM.

66o Christine de Pis an. [Feb.,

The portraits of Christine are contained in the illuminated
manuscripts which were doubtless compiled under her direction.
They confirm the description she gives of herself when, thanking
her Creator for his benefits, she mentions that of endowing her
with a body free from all deformity, a pleasant appearance and
a good complexion,* and they do much more. They exhibit a
charming young woman of graceful figure, and with a beautiful
and thoughtful countenance. There can be no doubt that
these representations of Christine are genuine portraits. Of
the two illustrating this memoir, one (Plate i) is taken from the
MS. of the Cent Ballades,\ the other (Plate 2) from Dresses
and Decorations of the Middle Ages, by Henry Shaw, F.S.A.

" The accompanying plate," says Shaw, " is taken from MS.
Harl. No. 6431, a splendid volume, written in the earlier years
of the fifteenth century, filled with illuminations, and contain-
ing a large collection of the writings in prose and verse of
Christine de Pisan. The illumination represented in our plate
is a remarkably interesting representation of the interior of a
room in a royal palace of the fifteenth century; the ceiling
supported by elegant rafters of wood, the couch (of which we.
have few specimens at this early period), the carpet thrown
over the floor, and several other articles, are worthy of notice.
But the picture is valuable in another point of view: it con-
tains portraits of two celebrated women, Christine de Pisan
the poetess, and Isabella of Bavaria, the Queen of France, to
whom Christine is presenting this identical volume."

Four of Christine's books were printed in the fifteenth cen-
tury, and are, therefore, classified as Incunabula; viz., (i) Les
cent histoires de Troyes, ou I'epistre d'Othia^ diesse de prudence^
envoyie h Vesprit cfuvalereux Hector. This book, although,
without name or date, is included by Hain in his list of In-
cunabula. (2) Le trisor de la citi des dames , . . selon
dame Christine . . . imprimi h Paris le VIII Jour ePAoust
mil quatre cens quattre vingtz et XVII pour Antoine Verard.
(3) The Morale Proverbes. Caxton, 1478. (4) The Fayt of
Armes and Chyvalrye. In fine : "Thus endeth this book which
Christian of Pise made and drew out of the book named
Vegecius de re Militari and out of the Arbre of Battles, with

* " Celuy d'avoir le corps sans nuUe diflonnit^ et assez plaisant et non maladis ; mais bien
complexionntf."

t Indirectly through VHistoire dt la Langve et dt la Littiratmn Franfoite, tome ii.

I904-]

Christine de Pisan.

66 1

many other thirigs set in to the same, requisite to war and bat-
tles, which book, being in French, was delivered to me,
William Caxton, by the most Christian king, and undoubted
prince, my natural and sovereign lord, King Henry the VII,
King of England and of France, in bis palace of Westminster
the XXIII day of January, the III year of his reign; and

» desired and willed me to translate the said book, and reduce it
in to our English and natural tongue, and to put it in imprint,
etc. etc. Whyche translacyon was fynysshed the VIII day of
Juyll the said year (/. e., 1489) and emprynted the XIII day
of Juyll the next following, and ful fynysshed."

It is interesting to note the factitious value which time has
imparted to the early editions of Christine's works, as well as
the fluctuations in that value. At the Didot sale a copy of
Les cent Histoires cU Troye, Paris, 1522, 4", "in a beautiful
binding by Hague," brought 1,400 francs. At the T^chener
sale, in 1865, a copy bound in calf sold for 700 frcs. In a
sale which took place in 1836, under the name of Van Bcr-
ghem, an ordinary copy bound in calf brought 1,150 frcs; but,
I at a period very unpropitious for possessors of books, in J 849,
■ another copy, bound in morocco, did not bring more than
sixty-four francs at the Turner sale."*

* BiiliomoHia at Ike fresemt day in Franct and Emgiamd, etc. New York: J. W. Bouton,
18S0,

" If 00 one asks, I know.
If suked to explain, 1 do not know."— 5/. Augustint,

fH ! infinite variety of life's conjugations. Espe-
cially as with most of us that life is a some-
what irregular verb. The unity; consistency, and
presiding sense of an ever abiding Now is the
rare acquisition of some choice souls. And even
then, so easily affected by deflections in intensity; by our vary-
ing moods and our time colored tenses.

Dreaming, we would set our chronology by the standard of
eternity. Streaming upon us between chinks of thought, we
had almost deemed to have caught some of its beams or some-
thing of its glow; when the most prosaic happening at our
feet disturbs us and again discloses our temporal connection
with the time-turned sphere on which we whirl along amid its
dust and weather changes.

II.
Man is a parenthesis which is not closed in this life. Again,
our statements arc incomplete parentheses. We are never able
to make our utterance final ; to get through without qualifica-
tions, if we would be fully understood. Still more ; as our
own thought develops into statement, we ourselves discover
new modifications, clauses, meanings, aspects, tints, and fore-
shadowings — new lights afar, across the great ocean of truth
on which we have just embarked.

Just embarked ! Yes, although we may have seemingly pro-
ceeded somewhat upon the journey. For the further we reach
away, the more we realize the illimitable stretches beyond.
And only then, only when loosed from the anchorages of the
shore, rocked upon the deeps and girdled by receding horizons,
we begin to learn that we have but started. We feel back with
many a misgiving for the nearer land behind ; and the pride

I904]

Thoughts on Philosophy.

^(il

of our undertaking palsies and turns pale, until there dawns
upon us a little of the mighty meaning that at best we are
only "some beginning of God's creature,"

III.

He scarce has thought to any purpose who has not thought
beyond words ; who has not thought long enough, deep enough,
fruitfully enough, to encounter sometimes, somewhere, glimmer-
ings of truth and reality untranslatable into mere vocables.

Who is it has not experienced the delights, the ecstasy, the
startling apparition to his mind, of some truth, realized as
never before ; seen as between two lightning flashes — leaving
tis with an experience which any attempt to repeat mocks by
its futility.

But we did feel, we did know, we saw, something true and
real, though beyond our power to express again even to our-
selves.

How strikingly great in his reticence is St. Paul when he
speaks of a '^ third heaven." Any less than he would have
used a higher multiplier in the very ecstasy of the thing. For
we have all at some time been transported to a third heaven — •
or the pity of it. True beyond question of our afTections and
emotions — crises in our loves and sorrows — it is also true, if in
a less conscious way, of our intellectuations and our attempted
appropriations of truth in any department of inquiry and
knowledge.

IV.

Profound indeed are the psychological facts underlying mys-
terious phrases in which the mystics seek to hint, or attempt
to explain, the situs of these soul-abiUties; the where or how
of this higher cognizance — this light in darkness ; this espousal
of mind and truth ; this " union " of realities — to which the
scholastic definition of truth might well apply : " adequatio
intellectus et rei," a real equation between the mind and its
object.

Is there an apex of the mind ; an innermost centre or
foundation of the soul; a more spiritual part of our spirit,
where we can possibly know and adore in spirit and in truth ?
Or is it a temporary unshrouding from our intellect of the
categories of time and space ?

Thoughts on Philosophy.

[Feb..

" I Am " — wonderful name of God \ With all its senses
outreaching any relations to a before or an after, and implying
the plenitude of being.

Strongly as it strikes us when we encounter it in its sub-
lime simplicity and majesty in the Scriptures, and at once
recognize it as divine ; familiar, on the other hand, as we are
with its small, restricted meaning in relation to ourselves — the
thought of its application to ourselves in the broader sense of
unchanging permanence, the image arising before our eyes of
its everlasting sameness, the possibility of such a state for us,
almost blanches us with dismay. We feel somewhat as we
would before a hideous idol in a Hindu temple^ — an immutable
grimace of stone or metal, alongside of which an Egyptian
mummy that had once been a man were a thing of life and a
creature of delight.

Is this for us eternity and Heaven? Forbid the fates!

No change; no something new; no something else; no
variety ? No ; that is not the Heaven for the little " I ams "
that we are. Time is such an essential category of our mind,
that where the tenses are banished we are banished too. We
cannot understand variety without succession any mote than we
can imagine life without change.

VI.

It will not do in a freak of fancy to picture change keep-
ing on — for our benefit — ^as it were outside of us. It is not
alone the " Umpora mutantur" but the ^* nos mutamur in Hits"
that we crave. It is our own varying experience of them; the
glowing and the dimming; the wishing and the getting; the
ebb and the flow; the irradiance and the rest; the new and
the more — and perhaps above all, the sense of motion ; their
coming to us and our going to them, and our travelling along
together — an eternal fieri (becoming), instead of an eternal
esse (being).

For life to us, beyond all. means motion and becoming;
perennial immobility to us means death.

Transcendent equations in our mind between Time, Motion,

and Life.

VII.

Yes, the equation seems transcendental ; and it must have
for its basts, not some artificial, make-believe arrangement, but

I904-] Thoughts on philosophy. 665

some deeper and truer reality. There are no fictions, there are
no lying devices in God's creation, save those of man's own
making. And to achieve them the logical phenomenalist is also
obliged to abolish God.
■ The equivalences which we discern between time and mo-

tion, in our senses of the latter, may help us, though imper-
fect, to reconcile the seeming antinomies which confront us
when juxtaposing the idea of eternity to our experiences of life.

VIII.

It is no fiction, no artifice of the mind that there is such a
thing as time — though that phrase be also true, a time cometh
when time shall be no more ; and though there be even now
an encircling reality which surpasses all time. It is no fiction
and no artifice that time has relations to motion as we know
it in its human accompaniment of succession ; for time is suc-
cession. And again that motion to us is life. Though it be
also true that there are senses of motion, an immutability of
being, yet an exercise of life, which transcend our common no-
tions of motion and of time.

But when we dimly almost deem to put our finger on those
senses, they escape our grasp and leave us floundering as be-
fore in our categorical imperatives of time and space.

Oh ! wonderful things of the human intellect. Should they
not prepare us to receive and accept the wonderful things of
God?

IX.

But to return. If to exercise the powers of intellect and
will means motion, then there is motion in eternity and eternal
life. For there is no life in the absence of the essential acts
of life. Life implies act. God knows and wills; or He were
not God. Let the pantheist arrange things otherwise, if he can.
And so the Scholastics call God, Actus purus — all act and
thereby life absolute; essentially, wholly and purely life with-
out a flaw; without anything that ceases or decreases to be
life in its fullest, and most perfect intensity and totality. And
again: Mot us primus — ^the originator and first cause of all mo-
tion and life.

But what transcendental senses of that word motion ! For
to us who are not pure act, all act, there is a modification in
ourselves accompanying our action ; a loss as it were as we

VOL. LXXVIII. — 43

656

Thoughts on philosophy.

[Feb.

give out force, as we part with energy. To us motion means
our own passing and going and undergoing, in the very exer-
cise of life, from one act to another, from one object to another,
with a real change and effect suffered by us, as patient as well
as actor in the result.

Something like the flush and the paling of our emotions ;
and again, much in the way that wc pass and move in space,
bound by space ourselves and affected by the things we en-
counter in it and which we reach only by fractions and in
terms of space, since we are not infinite and omnipresent, any
more than we are Act and Life in the absolute without any
element of passivity.

So it would seem we cannot become and be wholly as
though there were no space, nor wholly as though there were
no motion, in something of our senses, or some real analogy
to them; since we must remain for ever finite, limited and
mixed with imperfection in our possession and exercise of life.
And so likewise it would seem that we are in a measure justt^
fied in our difficulty to discard absolutely from our conception
of the future life something for us analogous to what we here
know as the relation of time.

But wc have also dimly perceived that in the perfection of
being — as in God — there can be transcendental senses in life
and motion which do not imply the necessity of subjective
passing from one thing to another in either terms of space or
time. Like the light which might be imagined immovable and
permanent, and yet lighting up objects moving up and down
through it. And again, while conceiving the light so remaining
immovable, we can imagine the presentation of many objects to
it to be simultaneous. That is, so far as the light itself is con- ■
cerned, that there was no succession, no Bare or flicker, no
reaching out or receding, but that it embraced all these objects
in and by one simultaneous effulgence.

XI.

Oh ! that wondrous particle^ — simiil ! Yet essential to the
very first principle of thought^ — ^the principle of contradiction.
What a flood of light we experience in our reflections when
wc first encounter and peer into it ! We conceive it, indeed, of
God with His o nnipresencc, omniscience and His infinity of Being.

Ojr breaking-off place is to dream of it in relation to our-

1904]

Thoughts on Philosophy.

667

selves. And yet> if in a finite, limited way, we can imagine
it in relation to some nunnher* of objects together — any quan-
tity of the things of thought— as we do unconsciously in re-
gard to a certain number and extension of objects, — in our
complex concepts which we call one thought, one truth, one
object, as we also do with some moments of solar time which
we call MOW— if we do so at all, no matter how small or
limited the number, the extension, the size or the period, of
objects, truths and realities, have we not so far discarded, or
perhaps better, transcendentalized, our notion of space and time ?
Now, in that higher and fuller life towards which we arc
casting these distant glances, when Being and no longer Be-
coming shall be the reward of our fluctuating efforts here —
that spiritualized existence, in which the Almighty further
holds out to us some participation in His divinity — is it then
so meaningless a concept, so bare of allurement, so difficult of
acceptance, to hold out before our eyes the illuminating torch
of Eternity ?

HE A VEN.

Heaven is Home. While outside the gate we feel the
sense of oihctness. On the other side of home, whoever be
the friends or associates, whatever the tasks or occupations,
even on the easiest lines of life and its pleasantest places — it is
others we meet, and others we must deal with.

Cross the threshold and close the door, and the sense is
that of oneness — we arc at home. One flesh, one heart, one
spirit ; I had dared say, trite as the truth has vulgarized it —
one soul.

"Thy God shall be my God." Could Prophet dare say
more ? Is not an identity of each one's God greater and
bolder a figure, in its way, than an identity of soul ?

II.

Perhaps the most undefinable and amazing tendency of the
human mind is this tendency to unity. Its concepts, its science,
its effort and its aspiration, are governed by an uncontrollable
gravitation to unity. Its transcendentals in the highest realms
of speculations — the Science of Being, Ontology — read, and in
that order :

C/nitm, verum, hmum — one, true, aid g*od.

668 THOUGHTS ON PHILOSOPHY. [Feb.

If we leave out Love, it is be<;ause in its perfect and tran-
scendent sense that is a divine word which embraces them all,
and is only fully spelt in Heaven. 'It is the unifying force;
and in possession, the achieved and actualized synthesis.

III.

Not that we wish to lose our sense of self. As stated, it
is the feeling of otherness that we would eliminate or appro-
priate. Love is possessive in its objectivity. And that objec-
tivity, however, saves it from being selfish.

There is the miracle which Omnipotence alone could accom-
plish.' To effect the union and yet preserve the individuality.
To be our origin and end, and still to maintain us in our dis-
tinct ' personality. To draw us to itself by its own desire; and
when known and seen, by ours; and yet to preserve our
being, our nature £tnd ourself in'the bliss of the vision and of
the union. Love does not destroy the loved one.

IV.

Pantheism and atheism, both, deny and attempt to destroy
this supernatural and enthralling fact. Both, in order to
achieve their purpose of denying God, the personal God, the
infinitely perfect God, — which they know we are not and can-
not be — both prefer in the end to annihilate us. Both close
the door of Heaven, the Heaven which God made, under pre-
tence of making a heaven of their own here. And so they
turn the universe for each of us individually into a final grave-
yard of our beliefs, our hopes, our loves, and of ourselves.

Not so the Christian soul, the Christian heart, the Christian
mind. It seeks and it follows the law of self-preservation —
which is the law of Being — while hearkening to the heavenly
law of supernatural love and unity.

It believes in Heaven as it believes in Home. There will
be unity with distinction, love without selfishness, otherness
disarmed of antagonism ; oneness preserved in survival and dis-
tinctness of personality. And all the better, nobler, and more
loving beliefs, hopes and efforts of personal Life, its conscious-
ness, energies, and final enjoyment, conserved, realized, and
made at Home,

THE MODERN AGE.
By Myers.

HIS MISTAKES.
By Father Randall.

We were, for a moment, extreme-
ly perplexed over this pair of
books.* We picked up Professor
Myers* Modern Age, read it rather
fully, and found it, all in all, about
as just and as tolerant a manual
of history as vve have ever seen: Then we turned to Father
Randalls work, and found the savagest, and perhaps the most
virulent, piece of criticism it has ever been our unhappiness to
be obliged to read. Then we put the two books side by side,
and compared, word for word, a few score of the passages in
the one which seemed to purport to be quoted from the other,
and in scarcely one instance was there any coincidence. Then
suddenly we recalled that the present volume of Myers is a
second edition and a revision, and that Father Randall's criti-
cism must apply, if at all, to an almost completely different
first edition. If Father Randall's quotations are from the
earlier edition, then Professor Myers has forestalled the criti-
cism by an entire renovation and correction of his original
text. Yet — ^and here is another part of the puzzle — the pro-
fessor could not, apparently, have profited by the priest's
criticism, for the criticism was published later than the history.
None the less, one would imagine that Mr. Myers had gone
over his own work with Father Randall's book in hand, and
had completely expunged, or corrected, almost every one of
the passages declared objectionable. And consequently, he has
made the publication of the criticism quite superfluous ; yet it
appears on the market a month later than the work it criti-
cises. There is need, then, of caution in reading Father Ran-
dall, and of honesty in dealing with Professor Myers.

Unfortunately, we have not at hand a copy of the first
(1885) edition of this Modern Age of Professor Myers, and so
we cannot pass judgment on that ; but for this present edition
we can say that it is as fair and as just, and to all intents and

• Tht Modern Age. By PliUip Van Ness Myers. Boston : Glnn ft Co. Mistakes and

Misitaltnutttt of Myers; or. Notes on Myers' Mediaeval and Modem History. By Rev.
William E. Randall, Columbia, Mo.

670 Views and reviews, [Feb.,

purposes about as accurate, as any popular manual can be,
and that it is immeasurably superior in these qualities to many
similar works that have come from the pens of Catholics.

Mr. Myers, for example, has apparently put the writing —
or the revision — of his page on " indulgences " in the hands of
a Catholic scholar, for he has secured an accuracy of statement
in this much-mooted matter such as we have never before
seen in a popular non- Catholic work. Further than this, in
treating of facts, the interpretation of which has been always
bitterly disputed between Catholics and Protestants, he has
stopped now and again, in the course of his narrative, to
explain them much in the way that a Catholic historian might
do. For instance, he exculpates Queen Mary of England from
the charge of cruelty far more generously than Lingard cares
to do ; he says indeed, plainly, that " it was not her fault, but
the fault of her age, that these things (the persecution and
execution of Protestants) were done," and explains, truly, that
" punishment of heresy was then regarded, by almost all Catho-
lics and Protestants alike, as a duty." Again, he deals unspar-
ingly with Luther, " a man of violent passions and of many
faults " ; and speaks of the " bitter dissensions " among the re-
formers. He does not fail to speak honestly of the genuine
Reformation, the growth of a " new spiritual and moral life,"
under the influence of the " zealous labors " and " the happy
contagion of the holy life " of St. Charles Borromeo, and when
he comes to the almost indefensible persecutions of the Inqui-
sition, with a laudable equity, he offsets the damaging effect of
the facts concerning Catholic persecutors by a reminder of the
equally cruel and bitter persecutions waged against Catholics
by Calvinists, Anglicans, and Protestants generally.

Again, no Catholic writer could more unreservedly condemn
Henry YHL, or Elizabeth, or Oliver Cromwell, or more hon-
estly represent the majority of the facts that have begotten
controversy. And in general, not to multiply instances, it
would be quite possible to gather from Professor Myers' Mod"
em Age a book, perhaps as large as Father Randall's second
part, of paragraphs that would fit well in any Catholic book
of historical apology.

Now, we say all this, not by way of justifying Professor
Myers in all his writings, but merely to set at ease the fears
or doubts of those Catholics who might imagine, reading Father

VIEIVS AND REVIEliS.

671

Randall, that the present edition of Myers* Modern Age — we
speak now of no other — is a work of unmitigated villany.
The fact is, the book is substantially honest, the author has
evidently put it upon his conscience to aim at being fair. If
this be a change in his attitude and in his work, then he is to
be commended for his revision ; if Father Randall be in any
way responsible for the change, then honor to Father Randall,
in so far as honor is due him ; but — again speaking in the
interests of truth — it is unfortunate that the reverend critic
has been himself so thoroughly unfair, so caustic, so undigni-
fied, so consistently bitter. We have said that the part of his
book dealing with the volume of Professor Myers now under
review is superfluous. And even were it not superfluous, even
were the Modern Age stocked full with the possible "mistakes
and misstatements" of its first edition, yet we could have no
admiration, rather only shame, for such a forgetfulness of the
judicial temper requisite in a work of criticism, and of the
long-suffering patience and charity, and the intellectual dignity,
that befit the writings of any Catholic priest.

In our judgment Sir George

THE AMERICAN REVOLU- Trevelyan's history of th« Ameri-

TION, can Revolution • is a work that

By Trevelyan. ^jn ^t^p ^^^^ 4^^ f^ont rank of

English historical compositions.
We are aware that to say this is to give a judgment that ought
not to be lightly uttered. For in that front rank there arc
mighty men — Gibbon, Lingard, Macaulay, Grote, Freeman,
Stubbs, Hodgktn, and our own Bancroft and Prescott. But
even in the face of so much distinction we give it as our
best opinion that Sir George Trevelyan's name is not unworthy
of that high company, and that in merit he is not far behind
the greatest of them. None of them has had a nobler theme
than his. For, at the rate at which the United States is influ-
encing present history, and promising to share in the achieve-
ments of the future, it will probably be the judgment of
posterity that not even the decline and fall of old Rome have
been of so far-reaching importance for mankind as the birth
of young America. The former event resulted predominantly

'Tht Amtrican Resolution. P-irt II., a vols. By the Right Hon. Sir George 0(to Tr^
vetyan, Bart. New York : Longman!>, Green & Co,

y/Eivs AND Reviews. [Feb.,

od^ tn a ne«r distribution of power, a change in social supre-
■acy. a sabstitution of Christian feudalism for pagan Caesarism ;
«Ule^ OQ the other hand, the rise of the Western republic has
primarily and chiefly modified the ideas of men, opened new
rafioiks of political and social speculation, and set loose long-
coa&aed popalar aspirations which, once liberated, have cut the
chwaaeis into which the civilized history of the past century
wmi A half has run. It is, then, not merely the successful
revolt ol thirteen colonies which the historian of the American
Revolution mast deal with, but in addition the early history of
that ■K>v<em«Qt towards democracy in government and inde-
MA^MM ia individual character which, if not born contempor-
tmiKiiTly with our country, was at least warmed back to life
IMA X^gor in the patriotic ardor of our fight for independence;
% MQVMMfit which has grown with our growth, flourished with
9^ MMMrity. taken our flag as its dearest symbol, and seems
ttfOVicttiltift^^y destined for the conquest of the world. I

XhU particular aspect of our origin as a nation has not yet
h#M COUiiidered by Sir George Trevelyan, inasmuch as the
Ihf^ volumes which he has thus far published take us only up
K> tK« year 1777. But from abundant indications we feel com-
|il(>(« assurance that he will nowise fall short of his sublime
ihomc. For he seems to possess am historical imagination
luminous enough, and a synthetic intelligence comprehensive
eiutugh, for such a philosophic treatment as we have implied his
• MUject demands. He is not a slave to detailed research as
Krveniaii was, nor so perilously in love with the picturesque as
MilCAulay, though he has an historical sense as keen for fact
AS the one, and an English style scarcely less brilliant than the
iilhcr. What makes us most hopeful of the final success of his
work l> a frequent suggestion of Gibbon which consists in the
iierfect ease with which he handles vast material, and in a
Mrtairt philosophic temper which elevates him above details and
1(1 vei him a wise and extensive view of measures and of men.
Il U \no early in the progress of his work to say to how great
H {inrfoctinn he will bring these supreme qualities of the writer
iti hUtory ; but, as has been remarked, there are signs full of
promlie that he will give us an imperishable production.

An cxccplionably valuable part of these two volumes is
ili4l whicli narrates the contemporary history of England.
IVouf to abundance is presented that the war against the

I904.]

Views and Reviews.

673

colonies was unpopular at home, Burke and Fox in Parliament
spoke in tones of thunder against the oppression of America;
their disapproval spread to the street ; newspapers the most
influential held up the tyrannical ministry to hatred and scorn ;
theatres rang with cheers at the representation of one or other
of the American heroes who had caught the fancy of a race
which had always thought kindly of a vatiant foe ; what is still
more remarkable, several of England's bravest officers, men who
had proved their courage and capacity on many a continental
battle-field, gave up their commissions rather than draw the
sword against their kinsmen across the sea. And to England's
everlasting credit be it said, these officers were not only not
distrusted or proscribed, but were respected for following con-
science, and were in several instances entrusted with high and
responsible duties. It is good to know this. It softens the
asperities inherited from that time to reflect that the English
people were in great numbers friendly to us, and that it was
a stubborn king and a haughty minister who were our foes
rather than the nation as a whole. The employment of Hessian
mercenaries against us aroused almost as much horror in English-
men as in Americans, And finally when it was seen that the
colonials were fighting bravely and proving to all the world
how magnificently deserving of independence they were, more
than one Englishman hoped devoutly for our success. For it
came to be seen that English as well as American liberties were
radically involved in the issue. It was perceived that the con-
quest of America meant the aggrandizement of a tyranny which
might exploit its caprices at home as well as abroad ; whereas
the success of the American cause would be as crushing a blow
to reckless absolutism as Magna Charta itself. If even in their
bitterest war the two peoples were thus to so great an extent
drawn together, how readily they could act in unison to-day
for the spread of that liberty of which they are the highest
representatives I

These two volumes record the blackest period of the struggle
for independence. An army depleted by desertions and ex-
hausted by starvation; officers too often intriguing or discon-
tented; a Congress without money and almost without credit;
an enemy in superb military condition and insolent with over-
confidence ; all these conspired to fling over the closing days of
1776 as deep a depression as the cause of liberty has ever

V/EIVS AND REVIEIVS.

[Feb.,

known. But thrown into splendid proportions against such a
background stands the lordliest figure that ever led men to
freedom. Washington is never so grand as in adversity.
Never appears his magnanimity so sublime, his consecration to
patriotism so divine as when he leads a starving and dis-
heartened host, faces a distracted country, endures the calum-
nies of persistent enemies within his ranks, and amidst it all
speaks no word of censure and volunteers no self-defence.
Quietly but eloquently Sir George Trevelyan tells us this,
evidently himself captivated with the moral and military great-
ness of the purest hero of history ; and for this alone, familiar
though the story is, these volumes will be welcomed by
Americans. We congratulate the author of this work. To few
men is given the fame which we think he will achieve from it.
In the interests of that merited reward and in the interests of
historical science we trust that he will be spared until the
great task is finished.

ORGANIZED LABOR.
By John Mitchell.

This volume • had the happy for-
tune to appear just when its theme
and its author were attracting uni-
versal attention in the United
States. The anthracite strike had taught men that every home
and every factory in the country are vitally interested in the
labor question, and Mr. Mitchell's splendid qualities as leader,
shown during the strike, had won for him unqualified admira-
tion and the greatest sympathy. He undertook just at this
time the work of instructing the public on the aims and prin-
ciples of Organized Labor. Mr. Mitchell saw an opportunity,
but he, unfortunately, misunderstood it. His work is disap-
pointing in a certain way. Chapters two to ten are devoted
to the history of unionism in England and the United States.
Any one else might have done this work as well, and the tem-
per of the public did not particularly desire discussion of his-
torical aspects of organized labor at the time. Chapters ten to
fourteen, on organization, constitution, and working of unions,
might have been compiled easily from the volume on Labor
Organizations issued by the Industrial Commission. The phases
of organized labor on which accurate information was wanted,
features on which public judgment of unions will ultimately

■ OrganixeJ Lator. By John Mitchell, A.M. Philadelphia: Book and Bible House.

VIEWS AND Reviews.

rest, did not receive the thorough or strong treatment that
would have made Mr, Mttchell's work most helpful. Such mat-
ters are, for example, restriction of output, the apprentice
question, lowered efficiency, relations to non-unionists and to
law, incorporation of unions, moral influence of unions, actual
policies quietly encouraged or tolerated. As regards such
questions, knowledge of facts is much desired, rather than that
of principles. The wholesale charges made by a hostile press,
occasionally by courts and by employers, against the unions
are rapidly shaping public opinion. The interests of organized
labor can be protected best by making known the facts in the
case. No other course will win the confidence of the public.
These chapters in Mr. MttchelTs book, while honest, are not
strong or exhaustive. They leave the problem where it was.
The book as a whole is honest ; it is full of useful informa-
tion ; but judged by the unusual equipment of the author and
the receptive attitude in which the public mind held itself, it
seems to have failed to accomplish the great good that one
might have expected.

The unions have a difficult task. They stand for principles
which are far in advance of our legal Constitution ; they con-
tend by methods which are peculiarly liable to abuse, for rights
which the public is slow to admit and employers, as a rule,
will not allow. Hence the temptations which beset unions are
many and strong. Conscience, good will, loyalty, industry, are
first-class union assets as well as are reserve funds or great
numbers. The public is sceptical about unions; they are not

I usually credited with these nobler assets. The study of union-
ism now most needed is one showing policy, methods, actual

I aims, spirit, manner of reconciling their seemingly inconsistent
principles; in a word, the facts and temper of their life.
Only a strong man, who is in and of the movement, can do
this well. The work that Mr. Mitchell did is in itself well
done, but it is not what he could have best done^ nor is it
what is most needed in the interest of organized labor.

Thf Literary Guillotine* is a de-

T^ LITERARY GUILLO- cidedly clever book. And what

TINE, is better still, its cleverness serves

an educational purpose which is

of the most urgent necessity for this day and generatiun. To

• The Lii$r»ry GHUlotine. By ? New Vork : John Lane.

676 V/EH'S AND REVIEWS, [Feb.,

recall modern readers to the classics ; to shame them by point-
ing out the depth of the pit into which ' popular literature has
fallen, and in its fall dragged down legions who might have
climbed the heights,: is to do an almost • religious service to
mankind. Literary futilities have, it is true, existed volumin-
ously since the fall of man ; but for our own melancholy days
has it been reserved to see the purveyors and creators thereof
bred by mournful hundreds, and their readers multiplied into
armies two and three hundred thousand strong. These are
symptoms of an evolution that has turned right- about- face, and
is in full retreat to degeneracy. Very dignified drum majors
moreover, and very distinguished tooters upon wind instruments,
are in lead of the procession. For from no less sacrosanct an
oracle than a professor's chair in an unctuous university has it
been declared unto us that Shakspere has his living peers, and
that Thackeray is mediocre. What we need is some firm hand
and clear mind to preside austerely over the hive of readers
till the buzzing myriads learn the alphabet of good taste, and
how to compute the distance which in the universe of sound
reason separates Ehen Holden or To Have and to Hold from
the most careless production of Hawthorne or the least meri-
torious work of Scott.

Now, in such a schoolmaster-function, this little book wields
the ferule right smartly and with discrimination. We venture
to say that for every cipher added to the number of its read-
ers, there will be a corresponding cancelling in the ominous
array of empty zeros which gauge the success of our literary
" sensations." The scheme of the book is simple, but delight-
fully suggestive. A court is conceived whose officers are Mark
Twain, Oliver Herford, Charles B. Loomis, and the mysterious
author himself. The prisoners at the bar are Bangs, Davis,
James, Caine, Corelli ; the Johnston-Batcheller-Tarkington school
of novelists ; the Austin- Wilcox-ScoUard-Sherman sect of poets ;
and the distinguished members of the society for Peddling
Platitudes to Old Ladies, and for the General EfTeminization of
American Letters. Aforesaid distinguished members are Ed-
ward Bok, Rev. N. O. Hillis, W. D. Howells, and several others.
Finally, the punishment in the power of the Court to inflict is
literary decapitation by the guillotine of good sense and out-
raged patience. In the course of the trials many a g^od thing
is said. Thus, Dr. Hillis defines genius as " an infinite capacity

I904.I

Views and Reviews,

677

for faking brains." One of the counsel refers to the author of
To Have and to Hold as "bloody Mary." Mark Twain asks
Herford : " What is the difference between the Reveries of a
Batcheller and the smallpox ? " Says Herford : " I suppose
they 're both taken from other people." Quoth Twain : " That 's
a similarity, not a difference. The correct answer is that the
smallpox you can get only once, while the Reveries come by
the Darrelful," John B. Tabb is represented as sitting next to
Alfred Austin during the trial of certain poets: '"Sir Alfred,'
said the Father of Quatrains and Sextets, drawing out a small
red book and extending it toward Tennyson's Successor as
though it had been a 9nuff-box, ' will you try a Tabblet ? '" So
the merry satire runs on, albeit, let us confess, the pace is
labored now and then, and some of the jokes in consequence
are badly out of breath. But as a whole it is a fine piece of
work, educative, as we said, as well as humorous, and fortunate
are they that read it.

A fruit of Andrew Lang's excur-

THE VALET'S TRAGEDY, sions into out-of-the-way histori-

By Andrew Lang. cal reading is a volume of essays •

which are interesting because curi-
ous, and valuable because erudite. The opening paper is on
the "Man with the Iron Mask"; and our genial author, with
a most persuasive species of assurance, declares to us that this
venerable enigma is not a mysterious matter at all, but a thing
perfectly easy to certify one's self about, if one possess a modi-
cum of information. That iron mask — or, since it was not
iron at all — that black velvet one rather, concealed the face of
one Martin, a valet to a Huguenot conspirator, Roun de Mar-
silly. Marsilly appears to have been engaged in a plot to form
a Protestant league against France. In pursuance of this
design he departed from England for Switzerland in [669,
leaving in London his confidential servant Martin. Within five
months Marsilly was apprehended and put to death in Paris,
and Martin was arrested by the French secret police, and was
imprisoned at Pignerol, where, as the suspected possessor of
highly important treasonable designs, he was guarded with
incomparable vigilance. True, Mr. Lang calls this solution —

" Tht VaUt'} Trajitdy, and Other Sthdits, By Andrew Lang. New York : Longmans,
Green & Co.
t

678

Views and reviews.

[Feb.

vrfaich by the way is not original with him — an hypothesis ;
bat orer his treatment of it he throws so much of the tone
and style of certainty, that ob\'iou5ly he intends us to hold no
other solution probable. And indeed for his view of the ques>
tion there is a striking amount of proof. But there is a huge
mystery as well. For if the masked prisoner were a mere
valet thought to be privy to dangerous secrets, why in the
world was he not summarily dealt with ? What conceivable
reason could there be for this preternatural anxiety in hiding
the face of a mesial from the eyes of men ? A mystery, this,
our author confesses; and to us it seems a mystery great
enough to drag back the whole case into its primitive and
immemorial obscurity.

Among the other essays are: "The False Jeanne d'Arc";
"The Mystery of Amy Robsart"; "The Voices of Jeanne
d'Arc"; **The Truth about Fisher's Ghost": and "The
S)Mkespeare«Bacon Imbroglio." The Baconian hypothesis Mr.
Lkb^ despises.. To that sturdy Baconian, Judg^e Webb, how-
ever, he gives tribute^ for ability and acuteness. The paper on
the mysterious heavenly voices by which the holy Maid of
Orleans professed to be guided, concludes with these words:
" We are not encouraged to suppose that saints or angels
made themselves audible and visible. But by the mechanism
of such appearances to the senses, that which was divine in
the Maid — in all of us if we follow St. Paul — that in which we
live and move and have our being, made itself intelligible to
her ordinary consciousness, her workaday self, and led her to
the fulfilment of a task which seemed impossible to men."

The many urgent duties which

SKETCHES FOR SERMONS, the priest is called upon to per-

By Father Wakeham. form have perhaps prevented or

led some priests to neglect, in a
measure, that most important duty of preaching well and
thoughtfully the word of God. Manifold calls and obligations
rush in upon one, and he finds himself forced to deliver the
Sunday sermon with but little preparation, feeling all the while
how much more effectively he could preach if he had spent
more time in the labor of construction. If he had the freedom,
he assures himself, he would do better justice to the word of
God and his peopl*.

1 904]

Views and Reviews.

679

Well, for the comfort and the encouragement and the bene-
fit of priests who are burdened with labors and compelled to
preach time and again, Father Wakeham has published a vol-
ume,* which we recommend most highly, "The audiences
that surround the Catholic pulpit need to be told plainly of
their duties to God, their possible failures, and the means of
their perseverance," And the audiences need to be told these
things in an attractive, energetic, zealous, thoughtful way, and
it is but the repetition of a truism to say that unless this is
done preaching will become a mere perfunctory performance
on the part of the priest, who will be glad when it is over,
and a monotonous half-hour to a congregation which has lis-
tened to the same lifeless talk many times before. No one, it
is true, can write our sermons for us, but in many ways we
may be aided considerably ; and the present volume is the
most efficacious and sympathetic kind of aid. The author has
an abundant knowledge of the commentaries of A Lapide and
Maldonatus, and of the writings of Kenrick, Manning, Fouard,
and Gaume. In a most practical manner he has brought the
riches of these treasuries within the arm's reach of every priest.
He sketches a sermon for every Sunday and . holyday of the
year — its introduction, argumentation, conclusion, and exhorta-
tion. Father Wakeham has expressed in all this, of course,
his own personal appreciation, his own assimilation of the word
of God ; but his thoughts and arguments are put forth in such
a general and comprehensive way, so suggestively, and with
such references, that any priest who will thoughtfully use the
intelligence that God has given him, even for the shortest
time, oughc to be able to develop a most acceptable sermon
from the material here offered.

We might suggest further that the book be used somewhat
after the manner of a volume of meditations, for the points
suggested might well be taken during the first days of the
week, thought over, and the result will be a more acceptable
sermon for the Sunday.

With high terms of praise we recommend this present vol-
ume, and we trust that it will bear abundant fruit in helping
priests in their most important ministry of the spoken word.

• Sietehts for SermoHt. Chiefly on the Gospels for (he Sundays and Holydays of the Year,
By Rev, R. K. Wakehnm, S.S. New York: Joseph F. Wagner.

68o Views and Reviews. [Feb.,

The authojr of this volume* aims
SUNDAY-SCHOOL TEACH- to. compile into a brief space the
ING. By Rev. W. Smith, best thought available on the scope

and aim of Teaching, The Teacher,
Character and Training, The Child, Mental Growth. In a
word, it is pedagogy brought to the service of Sunday-school
work. Each chapter is preceded by a brief bibliography, and
is followed by suggestive questions. The paragraphs are
numbered throughout.

The author has accomplished his work well. When we
recall, then, that great progress has been made in pedagogy,
and that great progress is demanded in the teaching of religion
and morality to children, we realize that the volume is timely
and the merit of the author great.

Sunday -^school teachers who are in earnest will find in this
volume the greatest assistance for their work. The author
writes for the Protestant Sunday-school generally, but the pre-
dominant pedagogical character of his book makes it serviceable
even beyond those circles. • ,

Five essays written originally for

QUESTIONS OF SCRIPTURE, divers periodicals by Dr. Grannan,

By Dr. Grannan. of the University, who has been

appointed to Leo XIII.'s Biblical
commission, have been translated into French,t and form a
notable addition to recent Catholic Biblical literature. The
titles of the papers are : A Programme of Biblical Studies ;
Higher Criticism and the Bible; The Two-fold Authorship of
Scripture ; The Human Element in Scripture ; The Divine Ele-
ment in Scripture. These subjects, it will be readily seen, lead
to some of the most difficult and delicate problems in Biblical
science. If we knew the precise boundaries of inspiration, if
we could say with certainty how far the human author of an
inspired book remains subject to the limitations of any other
author of the same time and of equal acquired knowledge, we
should have a direct road to many a long-desired solution
which now we can but deviously approach. Dr. Grannan
throws no inconsiderable light upon this and kindred difficul-

* Sunday-sckoet Ttaching. By Rev. W. W. Smith, M.A., M.D. Milwaukee: Young
Churchman Company.

f QHesHcHS d £criturt Sainti. Par Dr. C. P. Grannan. Traduit de I'Anglais par I'Abbtf
L. Collin. Paris : P. Lethielleux.

1904]

Views and Reviews.

681

ties. Of course in the present transition stage of Scripture
study we cannot look for conclusions of absolute finality. For
a long time to come doubtless we must be content with the
partial contributions of individual scholars.

The secure and comprehensive synthesis is not for our day
or generation. Our present author is safe, cautious, conserva-
tive, and at the same time thoroughly conversant with critical
tendencies and moderately sympathetic with critical methods.
He establishes principles which are illuminating, and establishes
them always persuasively, directly, and clearly. There are, to
be sure, many applications of those principles which we should
like to ask about — for example, how far inspiration implies his-
toricity — which Dr. Grannan does not consider in detail ; but
for all that he has given us every student of the Bible will be
grateful.

The curious custom of the pla-

VIRGINES SUBINTRO- tonic association of the sexes
DUCXjS. By Dr. Achelis. which existed in primitive Chris-
tianity is made the subject of a
highly interesting essay • by that trained scholar, Hans Achelis.
How this "spiritual marriage" originated; what modifications
it underwent; what the Fathers thought of it; and what abuses
it created, are the topics critically investigated in this brochure;
and they form a chapter of the Early Church's history which
every thorough student of Christian origins will be eager to
read. Beyond all praise are Dr. Achelis' fine critical spirit,
profound erudition, and captivating manner of presentation.

LEX ORANDI.
By Father Tyrrell.

Father Tyrrell's latest volume f is
a most important one, and not
improbably is of even greater
weight and significance .than any
of its predecessors, though indeed it may awaken much less
interest and be far less agreeably praised. It is a book lor
the slow-reading and deep-thinking class alone; and may be
named " of the day " only in a rough sense, for it is really an
effort to peer into the future, to anticipate and provide for
those approaching difficulties to which as yet the mass of our

• yirginti Suiim/rvJitetce. Ein Dcilrajj mm VIJ. Kapitcl dcs 1. Korintliierbricfs. Von
H. Acbelis. Leipzig: J, C. Elinrichs'sche Buchhaiidluug. 1902.

i L*x Orandi; or. Prayer and Cretd. By George 'lyrrcli, S.J, London, New York, and
Bombay : Longmans, Green & Co.
VOL. LXXVIIL— 44

68a V/EIVS AND REVIEWS. [Feb.,

people has scarcely awakened. But many a student has both
felt and groaned under the impact of the problems that our
author considers ; and by this class of readers his volume will
surely be appreciated enthusiastically as the one effective
attempt at understanding and dispelling certain awful suspi-
cions that have begun to harass minds trained to criticism who,
while urged to believe, are yet left wholly helpless in the task
of reconciling revelation and reason.

A common defect of apologetical writings has been that they
presuppose assent and they ignore difficulties. It is Father
Tyrrell's double merit that he assumes only the barest possible
framework of philosophical principles, and that he shows
acquaintance with and sympathy for every imaginable kind of
objection. Nor does he anywhere triumphantly claim to have
swept the ground perfectly clear of doubts ; he contents him-
self, with providing a point of view which enables minds to
adjust the essentials of Christian faith with ^whatever discoveries
history and philosophy have presented up to date, or are
likely to present in the future. He recognizes that in the tre-
mendous onrush of secular knowledge, characteristic of our
day, no one can hope to arrange a detailed harmonizing of
science and theology ; and so he merely points out principles
which make it possible for believers to breathe a little more
easily while awaiting the final answer to particular puzzles.

" More problems are offered for solution now in three
decades than were formerly offered in three centuries, with the
result that now a burden of difficulty is laid on the shoulders
of a single generation that had then been divided over a whole
series. As a consequence, the energy of the professed defen-
ders and exponents of belief is more and more absorbed by
controversial interests; and for the layman in theology, amid
the clang of hammer and anvil, the grinding of blunted blades,
the furbishing of ancient armor, the riveting of loosened links,
all possibility of ' peace in believing ' seems to be well-nigh
departed. And yet this growing sense of insecurity is rooted
in that confusion of mind which it has been the object of
these pages to combat — the confusion between the intellectual
and the religious values of the Christian creed ; between the
embodiment and the spirit embodied ; between the outward
sign and the inward power and significance. We forget that
the issue is not directly between faith and knowledge, but

I904.]

VIEWS AND Reviews.

683

between theology, which is one part of the field of knowledge,
and the rest of the s§me field. Faith were imperilled if
theology were an exact, necessary, and adequate intellectual
expression or embodiment of faith, and if, as such, it came
into demonstrable conflict with the indubitable data of history
or science or philosophy."

The passage quoted gives a hint of the line along which
our author proceeds. What he insists upon most strongly
throughout, is that the religious value of things measures their
real worth to believers. And so — reckoning always of course
with continuous, universal, and invariable, rather than with
isolated and individual, experience — he shows us how to test
the beliefs of the Catholic Church by the criterion of efficacy
in promoting religious development, by their success in further-
ing love and holiness in the soul. Meanwhile, he finds time to
emphasize, as no one in English has ever emphasized before,
the infinite transcendence of divine things and the measureless
inadequacy of the thoughts and words and symbols wherewith
we try to represent them.

Vigorously original and faith-provoking is this book, pro-
viding at the same time food for the studious mind and con-
solation for the pious heart. Nor is it the author's least glory
that while others are busied with showing why the old methods
of demonstration must still be able to convince men, he has
quietly prepared this efficient argument, modelled on new lines
and cleverly adapted to win over a multitude of minds hitherto
unfavorably impressed by the average Catholic's attitude to-
ward existing conditions. Here and there the volume shows
a disdain of patiently elaborated language, and in consequence
sufiTers from obscurity to some extent, but of course this is far
more than compensated by an amazing depth and newness of
thought. Indeed, we can imagine no more effective answer
than these pages make to the common, hasty charges that
Catholic philosophy is decadent and that Jesuit writers are not
pioneers.

The new contribution • to Catho-

INNER LIFE OF THE SOUL, lie spiritual literature lying before

By S. L. Emery, yg witnesses to two things: that

its author has found in the bosom
of the Catholic Church that peace, light, and inspiration valued

' Inntr Lif* of tht Soul: Sh«fi Spiritual Mtssagt} for the £cclesiastiatl Year. By S. L.
Emery, New York, London, and Bombay: Longmans, Green Ht Co,

684 VlEffTS AND REVIEWS, [Feb.,

above all other things by earnest soulis; and again, that the
graces which have comb through the church to this particular
convert have been cherished and treasured up and made pro-
ductive of good to a multitude of others. And at all this we
rejoice; the church is fostering her children, and the children
are loyally furthering her work.

But our readers want to know about the book. Well, it is a
series of brief chapters for the Sundays and Feasts of the
Liturgical Year. Its pages represent the fruit of wide, judi-
cious, and reflective reading in the approved spiritual writers,
and of reverent meditation on the teachings of Catholic faith.
The style is simple and dignified. The whole tone of the book
is admirably calculated to arouse one's sympathy and so to
dispose the mind to attentive and receptive consideration of
the many beautiful lessons its pages impart. We fancy that a
multitude of people will find in this book precisely what they
want — a series of quiet, fervent, sane, sincere, suggestive,
encouraging, and refreshing little conferences on the spiritual
topics suggested by the passing seasons of the year.

The literature of St. Anthony has

CONFERENCES. received a creditable addition in

By Rev. J. PRICE. Father Price's conferences* on the

life and lessons of the Paduan
thaumaturgus. The book is better written than the vast major-
ity of devotional treatises of the past few years — years which will
long be known, we fancy, as a period of unspeakable decadence in
spiritual literature. Father Price is of a careful and moderate
spirit in the matter of miracle, and makes but a comparatively
mild demand upon our credulity. For this let him know that
he has our thanks. Three instances are all he gives in his
chapter on Anthony's marvels: the stories of the audience of
applauding fishes, of the worshipping mule, and of the restora-
tion of the young man who was dead.

The clients of St. Anthony, for whom the conferences are
published, could not be satisfied with less, and all who feel no
especial attraction to the cultus will also be content that there
are no more. A series of devotional exerci.^es is given at the
end of the book which will still further recommend it to those
who are likely to read it.

* ConfertHces on St. Anthony of Padua. By Rev. J. Price. Pittsburg : F. M. Kiraer.

I904]

Views and Reviews.

685

SERMONS.
By Dr. Bagshawe.

There must be merit in a sermon-
book of which a reprint is called
for twenty years after the original
publication. So kindly a lot has
befallen Canon Bagshawe's sermons,* and to the venerable
author a good measure of congratulation appears consequently
to be due. He certainly merits all the praise that belongs to
sturdy simplicity of style, homely directness of application, and
total abstinence from elaborate composition. These qualities
assuredly are good, and even if not supported by deep thought,
profound insight, or original treatment, they go far toward
justifying one's appearance in print. It is too bad that the
reverend author tries to put altogether too many topics into a
single sermon. To draw out one idea in a discourse is far
better than to heap up several. What makes for effectiveness
in a preacher is not the number of things which, by a rather
violent process of mental assocration, he can manage to accu-
mulate upon and about his subject, but rather the manifold
presentation of that subject itself in its central idea, in its
deepest significance.

By no rules of rhetoric or principles of psychology, there-
fore, can we excuse our author when he opens a sermon
entitled " Christ our Lord " with a discussion of original sin,
continues it with an exposition of the Rosary, and ends it
with an extensive meditation on the Visitation. Neither can
we lightly pass over a remarkable effort on the marriage- (east
at Cana, wherein the following topics are formally discussed :
r, the sanctification of festivities; 2, the dignity of marriage;
3. the duties of parents ; 4, the intercession of the Blessed
Virgin; 5, the qualities of prayer; 6, the different kinds of
miracles wrought by Christ ; 7, devotion to the Holy Euchar-
ist ; and 8, veneration of the Holy Name. And hardly any-
thing else than startling is this paragraph in a sermon on the
Blessed Trinity: "The Feast of the Blessed Trinity gives me
a good starting-point for a discussion of the articles of the
Creed. In the catechism you will find that most of the Chris-
tian doctrine is delivered in the shape of instructions on the
twelve articles of the Apostles' Creed; it is therefore very
desirable to go over this ground and discuss in detail the great

* Catholic Sermons. A Series on Faith and Morals. By Very Rev. J. B. Bagshawe, D.D,
St Louis: B. Herder.

686 Views and Reviews. [Feb.,

doctrines pf which the catechism speaks." Then follows imme-
diately a brief' account of the symbol of the Apostles, of
Nicsea, and of Pius V. This in a sermpn on the Trinity !

We trust we shall not be over-critical if we ^oint out an ex-
pression or two that needs correction. A sermon on the hidden
life tells us that "circumcision was the mark of a sinner." On
the contrary, it was a covenant of election and of predilection.
And as to its being " the rite by which sin was to be remitted,"
there is not onhy not a shred of Scriptural evidence for such a
statement, but the Bible overwhelmingly refutes it. In speak-
ing of Papal infallibility the author declares that while the
doctrine has been defined only in our own day, still " it is not
as if a moment's practical doubt on the question had ever
existed in the church." We should like very much to know
how Canon Bagshawe would account for the Old-Catholic
movement.

These criticisms notwithstanding, the sermons of Canon
Bagshawe are solid and useful, and if they adorn neither the
literature of exegesis nor the province of English style, they
will help many a hard-working pastor in discharging creditably
his ministry of the word.

An active- minded country pastor
SERMONS AND AD- who takes an interest in the civic
DRESSES. as well as the moral well-being of

By Rev. I. Meistei. his people is called upon to par-

ticipate in meetings and events
that are strikingly divergent in character, and it is often
necessary to contribute a more than ordinary share of the
intellectual entertainment on these occasions. The addresses of
such a pastor are on topics that range from die village meeting
for the improvement of the sidewalks, or the necessity of
adequate fire protection, up to the funeral panegyric of some
distinguished citizen and the unveiling of a monument to the
dead hero of the people. The important point of it all is, that
a country pastor should be willing to participate largely in these
events. A priest who confines his ministrations to the sanctuary
and never enters into the festivities and celebrations of the
people, will soon find himself out of touch with his flock and
his influence over them reduced to a minimun.

Father Meister, of Mamaroneck, during the years of a long
and meritorious pastorate, has laughed with the people of all

1904]

Views and Reviews.

687

creeds in their joys and has sympathized with them in their
sorrows, and for this reason he is respected and honored by all
classes. Many of the addresses that he has been called upon
to give are included in the present volume.* They are very
well done. The thought is simple and the expression is sym-
pathetic, and in the more important addresses the speech rises
to the higher standards of eloquence. The tributes to Father
Dowling of Portchester, Father McLoughlin of New Rochelle,
and Father Bariy of Rye, are both graceful and fitting.

Dogmatic instructions adapted for

DOGMATIC INSTRUCTIONS, popular use and following the plan

By Dr, Wirth. of the Baltimore Catechism are

fairly certain to be of great help
to teachers of Christian doctrine. These teachers as a rule
have not enjoyed a wide theological reading, and feel the need,
consequently, of filling out the bare question and answer of the
catechism by consulting some simple dogmatic manual. Such a
manual,! for part of the catechism, Dr. Wirth has just given
us, and it is a commendable piece of work. It is concerned
only with Grace and the Infused Virtaes — a rather limited
field, we are inclined to think, for a book with its purpose.
Perhaps if the expositions here given had been abbreviated, a
process that could be employed here and there without serious
injury to the general treatment, and if the space thus saved
had been devoted to other topics of Christian instruction, the
volume would be more useful. However, what is treated of is
creditably presented, and will prove helpful to all who have to
explain and to apply practically the truths of religion.

LOne of the companions of St.
A PRECURSOR OF ST. Philip Neri before the foundation
PHILIP. of the Oratory was Buonsignore

By Lady Kerr. Cacciaguerra. This man had been

converted from a life of unbridled
licentiousness and sin, and after a period of fierce self- conquest
and appalling austerity, was ordained priest, and joined the

• Ckeasional Sermons and Addresses. By the Rev. Isidore Mcisier, Rector of the Church of
the Most Holy Trinity, Mamaroneck, N. Y. Maniaroneck, N. V.: J. H. McArdle.

\ Divine Grace. A Series of Instruclions arranged according to Iho Baltimore Catechism.
An Aid to Teachers and Preachers. Edited by Rev. Edmund J. Winh, Ph.D.. D.D. New
York : Bentiger Brotliers.

688, V/EIVS AND REVIEWS. [Feb.,

community of chaplains at San Girolamo. His life deserves to
be written, and Lady Amabel Kerr has put us in her debt by
this biography.* Buonsignore's zeal for apostolic works marks
him as a true precursor of St. Philip, and a model of sacer-
dotal activity for all time. His chief endeavor was to encour-
age devotion to the Real Presence and to promote the practice
of frequent Communion. His labors were speedily crowned
with success, and, to use his own words, " sinners were trans-
formed to angels " by the Holy Eucharist. But like most men
whose zeal has been greater than their regard for respectable
routine, he was suspected, he was persecuted, he was ridiculed,
and finally was denounced as a man of no theological attain-
ments, an innovator, and a heretic. He was not officially con-
demned, however, and his work, while obstructed, was not de-
stroyed. His last years were spent in the heroic endurance of
dreadful physical torture, and his end was the end of a saint
St. Philip called him a man of wonderful sanctity; a verdict
which every reader of this interesting volume will cordially
approve.

In the poems of Miss Eliza Boyle

POEMS. O'Reilly t there is one outstand-

By B. B. O'Reilly. ing quality which would have

brought joy to the heart of her
gifted ijrthor. In all these verses there is not a feeble theme,
not an- at^TRcial sentiment. They are strong and they are true.
There i& enough suggestion of deep thought in them, also, to
give warrant that the profounder subjects of poetic expres-
sion will be not unsuccessfully attempted in our author's more
mature compositions. Her present task must be to work in-
cessantly for perfection in metre and for absolute purity of
diction. It will be a long labor; it will mean the ruthless
destruction of much that has cost great pains ; but it will end
with a reward which we venture to predict will be above the
ordinary recognition of even genuine poetic talent. Certainly
Miss O'Reilly possesses the fundamental requisite to success,
an exalted view of the function of poetry. And that is a great
deal in these times when our verse as well as our fiction is
diseased with unreality, unvirility, and sham ; and when the
sacred office of votes is usurped by verse- makers incompetent

" A Precursor of St. Philip. By Lady Amabel Kerr. St. Louis: B. Herder.

t My Candlts, and Other Poems. By Eliza Boyle O'Reilly. Boston : Lee & Shepard.

1904.] VIEWS AND Reviews. 689

to discern the least gliinpse of the eternal sanctities, or to feel
any diviner agitations of the spirit than sickly doubts or
degenerate sentimentality.

A novel * from the pen of su^h a
THE HEART OF ROME, writer as Marion Crawford could
By Marion Crawford. not fail to be entertaining and in-
structive. This latest production
of the eminent novelist is a story of the " lost water " which
flows mysteriously under certain parts of the city of Rome.
Malipieri, a famous archsologist, is making excavations in the
cellars of the palazzo of the ruined family of the Conti, and
discovers a priceless treasure hidden therein ; this he determines
to secure to the young Donna Sabina Conti, for whom he has
formed a great attachment. He invites her to the palazzo to
inspect his excavations and discovery, and in accepting his
invitation she, though innocently, compromises her reputation.
Malipieri cannot marry her, because in youth he had generously
given his name to another whom a dear friend had betrayed;
As usual, however, difficulties are finally overcome, and the
story closes with the happy marriage of Malipieri and Donna
Sabina.

The characters of the story are peculiarly unsatisfactory ;
there is hardly a striking one in the book, certainly none com-
parable to the noble Giovanni and Corona D'Astradente of his
Saraciuisea, Moreover, we are surprised to find a too graphic
description of a very suggestive situation coming from the pen
of Mr. Crawford. The book suffers greatly in comparison with
some of his other productions.

This book is apparently intended

INSECT FOLK. for young children, although the

By M. W; Morley. proper divisions of the subject, in

their technical names such as
Odonata, Ephemerida, Plecoptera, Thysanura, on the page before
the first lesson, astonish the eye.f

We think it does not dignify science to bring it down to
the level of immature minds. Children who can grasp Ento-
mology at all do not like to think they are learning a "baby-

"Thi Heart of Rome. By Marion Crawford. New York: The 'Macmillan Com pan
t The Inttet Folk. By Margaret Warren Morley. Boston : Ginn & Co.

690

Views and Reviews.

[Feb.,

book," and the short senteaces, childish language, and efforts
at humor in these pages give that impression.

The best language, and clearest explanations, are not too
good in books of instruction for the young. Those who have
experience in the education of children know that it is better
for the language of a book to be a little ahead than a little
behind the mind of a pupil. There is much useful and
interesting matter in T/ie Insect Folk; and the author proves
she is quite at home with her subject. If she would leave out
the interjections, and "made-up" speeches of "MoUie" and
"May" and "Master Ned," and impart her excellent informa-
tion in pithy paragraphs, the book would increase in dignity
and value.

THE SHIP OF STATE.

ofHces of our government.

The Ship of State • is a compen-
dium of interesting and timely
articles, dealing with the various
The papers are written by able
men, some of whom have held the offices of which they treat,
and others who write and judge equally well of the dignity
and responsibility of these positions. The first paper is " The
Presidency," by Theodore Roosevelt, and was written long
before he was called to be the head of the nation. Twelve
papers make up the volume, and all are enriched with excellent
illustrations. The book has a decidedly instructive value, and
is the best lesson on civics that could be put into such a
small compass.

This charming diary of travel.f

MEMORIES OF A RSD- with its refined finish and illustra-

LETTER SUMMER. tions, is one of the pleasantest

By Eleanor Childs Meehau. companions we have had for some

time. Its descriptions are graphic,
its historical allusions correct, its information true, and we judge
it both an admirable addition to the supplementary reading of
classes, and an ornament to the library table. Mrs. Meehan
has conferred a favor on the young by publishing this admira-
ble account of her travels abroad, and we cordially recommend
it to all our readers, for old as well as young will be inter-
ested in its pages.

• Tkt Skifi of Stale. By Those at the Helm. Boston : Ginn & Co.
^ MemorUs oj a /fed- Letter Summrr. By Eleanor Chilcis Meehan. Cincinnati
Clark Company.

I
I

1904.]

VlEiVS AND REV/EIVS.

691

Now that the question of land

IRISH AGRICULTURAL ownership in Ireland is settled by

SOCIETY REPORT. the recent act of Parliament, it is

necessary that farmers be en-
I couraged to develop tKe resources of their holdings to' the
utmost extent. By improving the methods of production, and

I by obtaining better markets for their produce, the new peasant
proprietors will soon enjoy increased prosperity. The competi-
tion from other countries will force the adoption of co-opera-
tive principles. To provide the assistance needed in this direc-
tion is the special scope of the Irish Agricultural Society,*
which has a branch already established in New York City
represented by the Hon. John D. Crimmins and many other

I devoted friends of Ireland.
One of the most effective workers in this industrial move-
ment is the Rev. Thomas A. Finlay, S.J., of University College,
Dublin, who came to the United States a short time ago as a
member of the Mosely Commission, to study various phases of
educational progress in relation to commercial advancement.
In one of his lectures in New York on the subject. Father
Finiay related how Sir Horace Plunkett went about endeavor-
ing to persuade Irishmen, independently of their political pro-
clivities and of creed, to combine together for industrial self-
improvement. The great wave of emigration had weli-nigh
drained Ireland of all that was best and most representative
in her manhood and womanhood, and while good men here
and there endeavored to stem that awful drain, nothing was
really accomplished, as the cause which lay at the source of

_ the difficulty had never been met.

I When men could not earn a decent living at home it was

not to be expected that patriotism would deter them from going
abroad. Sir Horace Plunkett seemed to realize this, but he
endeavered to convince the farmers to whom he had access that

(in combination lay a new source of power. He met at first
with the usual apathy and inertia whidh such a reform is sure
to encounter, for Irishmen, in spite of the bad name they enjoy
in certain quarters, are the most conservative of conservative
men.

But the movement spread, and the figures show that,
whereas but a decade of years ago some five-and-thirty

• Rtpsrtoftkt Iriih AgrkitUtiral SocUly, Dublin : Scaly, Dryers & Walker.

V/£fVS AND REVJEIVS,

[Feb.,

ms '4mre hardy eaoajrh and resourceful enough to attempt
acw 3iediads» aow there are some 35,000 farmers through-
fioiiaMi «iu» are joined together in what is practically one
Is gjBHMBt agricultural leagues ever known in modern indus-

PMtaar FioUy pointed out very pathetically the contempt
■gpoaktoa which Sir Horace Plunlcett met with in his early
ta tesch Irishmen to help themselves. He was a
IC» and so was looked upon with distrust ; he was a
ift politics, and so was hated by those he endeavored
hi was a landlord, and so was counted a natural
by the men whom he wished to make independent in
k <kl99. Fortunately the Catholic clergy of Ireland joined
iri^ ta the movement, and the success was beyond all
Up to the present the funds requisite for an under-
liJliit^ 4S vast as this have been practically supplied by Sir
MtMM MlBWalf and a few other philanthropic gentlemen, but
^M^i^ l(» ibe enormous proportions the movement had assumed
tlnni were aecessarily great expenses incurred, and more money
Via iieeded to carry it into districts which still held aloof. It
Vift fMthU purpose that the Irish Industrial League of America
\IMii IbkiiBed.

Professor Royce's new volume'
tllTllNKSOK PSYCHOLOGY, is the expansion of a sketch writ-
^ ^Toleaaor Royce. ten years ago, for the purpose of

outlining the elementary principles
AmU ^Oitcal applications of Psychology. In its present form
^^« w<Mrll a)>{>ear9 in the Teachers' Professional Library, a series
MuJv»» lh» oditorship of President Nicholas Murray Butler. This
^t\»( ui to understand that the book is intended primarily to
\HSw\ ihv needs of the studious teachers referied to in the
VW^vvta) Kdiior's Introduction. Beyond this, however, the
Itsi^KvM hi»i» hud another end in view, namely, the interesting of
^^s hul^'Hl payi hologiitts in certain original views and suggestions
\^\\f [\\\ I ho ftrtt time made public.

'\\\K> )Mi>a<«ivt rr viewer labors under the embarrassment of his

V r •mi \\\«\ the really valuable part of the book is precisely

^ . i h ha« no right to be in this volume at all. Although

ut, HI anuuuuced above, to introduce teachers to those find-

Au KlMn«nt»ry Treatise, with some Practical Applications. By
, I . N*w York: The Moanillan Company.

1904.]

Views and Reviews.

693

ings of psychology which may assist them in the practical
duties of instruction, the work before us seems to include
much material calculated to confuse those readers to whom it
is professedly addressed. On the other hand, however, this
element, apparently so foreign to the proper purpose of the
book, is of such a nature and influence that it may, on the
whole, be productive of larger good than what would have
replaced it had the writer followed orthodox lines with scrupu-
lous exactitude. At the same time we must concede that the
general gain is apt to be the Teachers' Library's loss, and that
critics may with justice re-echo Professor Muirhead's reproach,
made in the October issue of Mind. What teachers themselves
need most just now, perhaps, is such a book as the present
one would have been, had the usual classifications been retained
and the construction of a psychological theory reconcilable
with the author's views on the individual will been eliminated.
In furtherance of the same end, similar treatment might well
have been extended to the discussion of the single, double, or
triple dimension of feelings. As the volume stands one cannot
but feel that these complications hinder rather than help its
practical utility — a defect all the more provoking because, in so
far as the text follows its proper purpose, it is luminous, con-
vincing, and full of "actuality."

Elsewhere let us hope the author will return to a further
development of this attractive though intrusive psychological
theory of Initiative. What he has here advanced is, of itself,
calculated to make these pages valuable. While true to his
pledge to keep clear of all discussions concerned with the
philosophy of mind, he has not failed — who expected that the
author of The World and the Individual should fail ? — to illumi-
nate, from the discoveries of psychology, the opinion that " the
associationist point of view must have its limitations." He
does this by an original interpretation of " Initiative " in the
light of the biological phenomena grouped by Loeb under the
general name of " tropism," i.e., a certain general and elemen-
tal tendency to respond to stimuli, in a characteristic way,
independent of and persistent through the various special
activities. What is erected on this substructure is, indeed, as
the author remarks, far enough from the views of Professor
Loeb, but at the same time it should, we think, do something
to recommend philosophy to minds trained in biological methods.

Vtei^s and Reviews.

[Feb..

We are constantly being reminded,
THE STUDY OF HISTORY, nowadays, that old methods of
By Collias. historical study have passed away,

and we are given to understand
that the " new method " is, as it were, a revelation and a
revolution. But just what is meant by the new method, and
just why it is superior to the old, it would be difficult for many,
And among them some who glibly use the phrases, to explain.
For the clearing away of all haziness of ideas on the matter,
we rcc(nnmcnd this invaluable little manual on The Study of
jUittiiastUal History. *

Besides serving the purpose of an introduction to the ways
and means of present historical study, it may well be a guide
for the constant use of those who are beginning or continuing
• study of the history of Christianity. For the work is, in
effect, an " Introduction " to the study of ecclesiastical history,
anil ;in " introduction,*' as every one knows, is, in the technical
sense of the word, not so much a literal introduction, as it is
a reference book, to be kept constantly at one's elbow, long
after one has mastered the beginnings of a science. We say
that such works are " indispensable," but it is wonderful how
long we allow ourselves to go along without them ; wonderful
too how much energy we waste simply because we have them not.

The present work is small and quasi-popular, but thor-
oughly able. The author immediately recommends himself to
the reader by taking and maintaining a firm stand on the mat-
ter of the breadth and dignity of the subject of ecclesiastical
history. He refuses to allow that the science — he declares and
proves it to be a science, not a mere branch of literature —
may be narrowed into a small, isolated, departmental kind of
study, but claims for it a scope as wide as Christianity, for ■
the history of the church, he quotes from Bishop Westcott, "
" is, in a sense, all history from the day of Pentecost." Sacred
history is the view of the world and of all things in the world ■
by the Light of the Incarnation, for no event since that most
important of all historical events can fail to have relations
with it, and with the gigantic system of belief and action which
was begun with the coming of Christ.

Evidently, one who takes this broad stand is in no danger

*Th4 .ItmJv of Kc.-UiUttkal History. By WiUJam Edward ColUns, B.D. New York:
Lonfmanik, Grrm & Cc«, 1903.

TD REVIEWS.

>95

of going back to the old idea which so cramped the noble
science as to make it a synonym for the story of " the succes-
sions of bishops and the records of councils, disputes about
doctrines and conflicts with heretics,"

But if Church History be so widely conceived, will not one
be frightened away by its very magnitude ? Undoubtedly, if
one imagines that the study must be got at with "hammer and
tongs " and beaten into subjection by main strength. But we
don't study so nowadays ; we don't sit down in front of a huge
and repellent "General Church History," and try to "eat the
book." No, but we take the other method : we begin not with
what is genera] and work down to what is particular, denying our-
selves, during all the long process of dragging through with the
enormous task, the consolation and the pleasure of reading the
really fascinating particular histories; we begin with a biography,
a monograph, a classic on some individual subject, master it, and
then, going out on excursions into the unbounded fields, bring
back something that we can fit to what we have gained. We
get a subject into our consciousness, then read around it, and
draw all things to it; and this process, instead of being a burden
and a bore, will fill one's " whole intellectual life with a new
meaning " and " will be a source of unceasing interest and
enrichment."

The details of the process, the help in its pursuance, the
choice of books, the best ways towards an actual dominion over
an historical subject or a period, all this is learnedly given by
Professor Collins, Finally, he has collated an admirable bibli-
ography. Without attempting to make it exhaustive — an impos-
sibility—he has scarcely omitted any of the best works neces-
sary. History in general, and perhaps particularly church his-
tory, differs from literature in this, that its classics are modern
rather than ancient; its golden age is now, or will soon be; the
masterpieces of its achievements are being wrought in the
present, and marvellous works they are, for so highly are they
perfected, and so incorporated and inspirited with method, that
a thorough mastery of only one of them may easily produce a
well-rounded understanding of the status of the science of his-
tory, and a grasp of true historical method. After that the
study will be a delight. What these masterpieces are, and how
to use them, is not the least of the lessons to be learned from
this excellent manual.

696

VIEWS AND Reviews.

[Feb.

ENCYCLOPEDIA BRI-
TANNICA.

The sixth volume of the Encyclo-
pedia Britannica • opens with an
essay on Modern Conditions of
Literary Production by Augustine
Birell, K.C., in which the author takes quite an optimistic view
of the elevated tastes of the general reading public. Professor
Case, of Oxford, writes on Logic and Metaphysics ; on the
latter very extensively. Two particularly interesting articles at
present are those on Korea and Louisiana. The legal and the
medical subjects receive detailed attention. Principal Fairbairn
writes on Martineau. The Rev. A. W. Hutton writes in a
sympathetic and appreciative manner of Cardinal Manning, and
under the word missions are some interesting though not very
complete details of the activity of the Catholic Church.

Frederick Greenwood opens the seventh volume with an essay
on the Influence of Commerce on International Conflict, which
covers many centuries of human history and is remarkable for its
wealth and adornment of rhetoric. Speaking of the change of
our policy marked by the Spanish-American War, the author
writes : " And so, with a right-about face, the American peo-
ple turn from their entirely successful experiment in industrial
monasticism, hasten to build fleets of warships and launch forth
upon the ancient ways of national emulation." The Rev.
A. W. Hutton contributes the article on Newman, and Arthur
Waugh writes on Walter Pater, and also on Patmore, whose
work he rates very highly indeed. John Fiske writes of the
historian Parkman ; Dean Worcester treats of the geography
of the Philippines, and John Foreman of their history.

The illustrations throughout the volumes continue in the
same high standard.

This brochure t celebrates the memory of the last survivor
of Pere Lacordaire's original disciples in restoring the Domini-
can Order in France. P. Danzas was a holy religious, a
zealous priest, and a cultivated author. His life has little of
conspicuous achievement, but it was filled with hard work for
God and beneficence for men.

* Tka Butythftadia Britammka. New volumes constituting, with the volumes of the Ninth
Edition, the Tenth Edition of th«t work. Vols. \n. and vii., forming vols. xxx. ud xxxi. o( the
Couplets Work. New York: The Encyclopaedia Bricinnica Company.

t t/m Ai»i»t. Le P. Antotun Danzas. Fr6re-Prfeheur. Par le P. Ingold. Paris: P,
T4<iul.

I
I

The Month (Jan.) : Contains an article by Fr. Tyrrell on a
grave religious problem, that of the possibility of a
reconciliation between Theology and Science, or more
precisely, between Catholic theology and the purely
scientific, natural, or, as it is called, liberal theology of
those outside the church. After insisting upon the per-
manent and necessarily unchangeable character of Catho-
lic theology, in so far as it is based upon a divine deposit
of revealed truth, always and essentially the same amidst
the changes brought about by centuries of development,
the writer points out the essential diversity that must
ever exist between such a position and that of the liberal
theology, which, ignoring supernatural revelation, traces
the development of religion in all its manifestations^ as
purely natural phenomena subject to the laws of physio-
logical and historical evolution. While no reconcilia-
tion which implies the fusion of ideas so contradictory
^eerns possible or desirable, the writer thinks that a
more intelligent understanding by each of the position,
spirit, and methods of its opponent would go far towards
establishing a "modus vivendi " based upon mutual re-
spect and toleration. Writing on the " Antiquity of

the Angelus " Fr. Thurston gives reasons for assigning
the origin of that devotion to the first half of the thir-
teenth century. An interesting sketch of the Venera-
ble Julie Billiart and the order of Notre Dame is made
by F. Beton.
Tablet (5 Dec.) : The Roman Correspondent records an
amusing blunder of the Italian Liberals who erected a
statue to a Sicilian priest of the eighteenth century,
under the impression that he had been the precursor of
" New Italy." After the statue had been duly erected
it was discovered that the priest in question had been
a zealous clerical of reactionary principles.
(12 Dec): The Roman Correspondent writes that there
is no foundation for the current rumor with regard to
the abolition of the "non expedit."^ The Bishop of

VOL. LXXVUI. — 45

698 Library Table. [Feb.,

Liverpool in his Pastoral Letter warns Catholics against
maintaining " an open mind " on the question oi Tem-
poral Power.

(19 Dec): A leading article on the Japanese Diet gives
an interesting insight into the workings of constitutional

government in the Far East. Rev. V. McNabb, O.P.,

contributes a comparative sketch of Newman and Spen^
cer, in which he points out some of the marks of agrree-
ment and contrast in the two men. The Roman Cor-
respondent writes that practical measures are being- taken
by the Holy Father to promote the efficiency of the
Roman Congregations.

(26 Dec): The enthronement of the Archbishop of
Westminster being about to occur on the 29th inst.» an
interesting account of the ceremony, together with an
historical sketch of those who have been enthroned, is

given. An article on the Catholic University of "Fri-

• bourg gives the total number of students for the past
semester as 550, and describes the organization and aims

of the institution. ^The Roman Correspondent gives a

list of names composing the committee for the celebra-
tion of the thirteenth centenary of the death of St.
Gregory the Great. He also characterizes as a canard
the report, circulated recently in the Liberal press of
Italy, of enormous treasures found in the Vatican.
(2 Jan.) : The two pronouncements of Pope Pius X.,
one on Popular Catholic Action, the other on Sacred

Music, are given in full. A leading article discusses

the Holy Father's attitude on the Social Question.

Rev. W. Barry, D.D., writes of the modem missionary

priest, and contrasts present with preceding types.

The Roman Correspondent announces the condemnation
of five publications of the Ahh6 Loisy and two of Albert
Houtin.
International Journal oj Ethics (Jan.) : In an article on the
" True Democratic Ideal," Prof. W. Jethro Brown empha-
sizes the point that democracy does not consist entirely
in liberty or equality; these are only negative charac-
teristics; the positive elements are a deep appreciation

of humanity and a broad conception of social justice.

Dr. Thomas C. Hall contributes a thoughtful paper on

I904.]

Library Table.

699

relativity in ethics. He observes, that there is in the
human soul a longing for an infallible moral teacher,
and that this desire often leads men to the danger of
resting irnplicitly on a guide and of neglecting to study
moral problems ; and thus, he concludes, the only hope
of the future is in a careful insistence on the relativity
of ethical knowledge as well as on the finality of moral
obligation.— In an article on " Crime in England '
Samuel J. Barrows, of the International Prison Commis-
sion, presents figures which show that the number of
commitments to the English prisons has increased at an

alarming rate during the last few years. Mr. W. A.

Watt discusses the " Meditations " of Marcus Aurelius,
and indicates the points of difference between the Stoic
and Christian notions of individualism.

Le Correspondant (lO Dec): M. Marcet fitienne in '* Trois ans
d'exil a St. Sebastien," while telling an interesting and
pathetic story of his exile in Spain, insinuates that it is
to the lack of union among the different well-wishers of

I France that we must attribute the present bad govern-
ment of that unhappy land. " Les GLuvres de preser-

vation et de rehabilitation," by Paul Delay, and " Les
CEuvres de Mer," by Marquis de Frayssein, arc revela-
tions, at once surprising and encouraging, of the work
done for the help and reformation of convicts and for
the toilers of the sea, owing to the generous initiative of

eminent and devoted men. " L'expansion japonaise."

by Francis Mury ; " Les Peres Blancs dans les posses-
sions Africaines," by E. Marin ; and " Les Suppressions
de traitements ecclesiastiqucs," by George Noblemaire,
touch on political questions of the highest interest in the
Far East, of the European attempts to Christianize the
blacks, and of the pecuniary difficulties besetting the

separation of church and state in France. " Napoleon

IL," by Lanzac de Laborie, analyzes, from a political
point of view, the recently published work of M.

Frederic Masson, Napoleon et son fils. " Mgr. Dupan-

loup et Gabriel Mons," by H. Lacombe, gives interesting
comment on extracts from the great prelate's letters to a
young man tormented by doubt. In the same article, " La
Vie de Monseigneur Dupanloup," a study of a work soon

700 Library Table. [Feb.,

to appear, renders sincere and merited homage to the
memory of the great Bishop of Orleans.
Science Catholique (Dec.) : Abb^ Fontaine contributes a severe
criticism of the position of Abb^ Loisy as set forth in
his two well-known works Ul^vangiU et r£glise and its
sequel, Autour (Tun petit Livre. The writer condemns
outright the attitude, method, and main conclusicMAS of
the distinguished scholar in question, and accuses him of
rationalistic tendencies, and of not being theologically
competent to deal with questions of such grave theolc^cai

importance. M. le Cte. Domet'De Vorges continues his

interesting considerations on Kant's Critique of Pure Reason.

\ Annates de Philosophic Chrhienne (Dec): Dr. Koch proposes a
new theory about the mode of Christ's presence in the
Eucharist, and says Christ is present per moduni substantia
moralis and not localiter. The definition of Trent that
Christ is present vere^ realiter et substantialiter is declared

to be perfectly in accord with this theory. A seminary

professor writes that the sciences of Paleontology, Geology,
Primitive History, and Criticism have so revised our
notion of the Bible that to retain all the views of

former times would be absurd. ^Writing on the

Didachif P. Turmel says it dates from 95 A. D. ; that its
teaching is clear as to Baptism, the Eucharistic Sacrifice,
and Penance, but that it is silent as to Redemption, and
displays but an imperfect idea of Christ's Divinity and
the Episcopacy.
Le Pretre (31 Dec): A Roman correspondent quotes from an
official letter of Cardinal Merry del Val announcing that
Loisy's works were condemned by the Inquisition on
Dec 16 and that by a decree dated Dec. 4 and pub-
lished Dec. 23 the Index condemned two books by
Houtin: La Question Biblique and Mes Difficultis avec
Mon £veque, and five books by Loisy: Religion cT Israel^
L' Svangile et i^glise, jStudes ^vangiliques^ Autour d*un
petit Livre, Le Quatri^me £vangile:
La Quinzaine (16 Dec): E. Vercesi, writing upon the recent
congress of Italian Catholics at Bologna, - says that the
reactionary element, led by Count Paganuzzi, were utterly

t defeated, and that it was decisively shown that the

moderately liberal tendencies maintained by Count

I904.]

Library Table.

Grasoli not only express the sentiments of intelligent
Italian Catholics, but are also approved by Pius X. —
M. Fonsegrive ventures a word of conciliation and peace
apropos of the affaire Loisy. He says that the persecu-
tion of the great scholar has gone to a shameful extreme.
M. I'Abbe Klein has been furiously attacked because he
was seen taking a walk with M. Loisy, and against the
savant himself there have been scattered abroad cowardly
insinuations and contemptible suspicions. And as for
his books, if they have troubled some who ought not to
have read them, it must not be forgotten that they have
comforted others, and opened new fields of Catholic
principles and of the possibilities of Catholic faith.
£tu(Us {20 Dec): Dr. Surbled, from the point of view of a
layman, proposes certain measures for the evangelization
of the Catholic men of France. There is no question
that in the cities the men are now almost entirely lost
to the church. Vigorous measures must at once be
taken before the evil is past curing. He proposes more
active work by the clergy for the instruction of the
young men. Let there be a Mass on Sunday for them
expressly, at which a direct, common- sense instruction
and exhortation will be given. Then clubs, societies, cir-
cles of one kind or another should be formed. Work-
ingraen's church-unions should be established. In one
word, priests must go out of the sacristy and adopt
energetic modern methods for keeping hold of men In
the world. In concluding, Dr. Surbled refers to that
lamentable ecclesiastical prejudice, existing still among
some churchmen of France, against the participation of
laymen in parochial work. In the face of present defec-
tions it is monstrous that such a feeling can dare to
express itself.

(5 Jan.): P. Jouon surmises that the criterion of inspired
writings which presided over the formation of the New
Testament canon was not, as Franzelin thinks, a divine
revelation given to an Apostie and testifying to the
inspired character of a book ; but rather that the early
church accepted as infallibly true Ihe principle that
whenever an .Vpostle wrote in his apostolic capacity
that writing was inspired. Whether the Apostle himself

702 Library Table. [Feb.,

set down his mind on paper or taught through the
medium of another, as St. Peter speaks through Mark
and St. Paul by the pen of Luke, it makes not a whit
of difference. The early church asked only one question
as to a book appealing for canonical recognition, viz. :
Is it immediately or mediately the work of an Apostle ?
In case of an affirmative answer the church supposes —
and the supposition rests on infallible certainty — that
the book is inspired.

La Dhnocratie Chrctiejtne (Dec.) : " The Lessons of a Strike "
is the title of a paper which gives a vivid description of
the political and religious conditions in the northern
region of France. The writer shows that during the
recent strike polrtical influence has been used to prevent
men from attending to their religious duties, and he
offers many suggestions which, if put into practice,

might be of great value to the workingmen. The

Abbe Bataille in an article on organization holds that
systematic professional union is the only solution for the

labor problem in France. Those interested in social

questions will find in Dom Huberto's letter many items
of interest in regard to social progress in Holland.

La Revue Generate (Dec.) : Capitaine Commandant Beaujean
discusses the influence of a standing army on the civil
life of a country, and shows that the social responsibility
of an army officer is much graver than it is usually

understood to be. In an article on Count Verspeyen,

J. Lintelo, S.J., gives us an interesting appreciation of
the great Belgian orator^ Dr. Moeller states the atti-
tude of the medical profession in regard to the efforts
which have been made to prevent the spread of tubercu-
losis and advocates the establishment of state hospitals
for that purpose.

Revue de Lille (Nov.): Reports a discourse delivered at the
opening of the Catholic University of Lille by the rec-
tor, Mgr. Baunard. In the course of the address the
speaker dwells at considerable length on the state of
religion in France as compared with its present condi-
tion in America. ^R. P. Deodat continues his eulogy

on Duns Scotus, treating in this number of the Critical
Method of the "Subtle Doctor."

1904]

Library Table.

703

La Revue Apologetique (Nov.) : The Priesthood is the subject of

I a learned conference by Fr. Caruel, S.J., the second of
a series of conferences upon the Catholic faith. It is a
lucid setting forth of the functions and dignity of the
priest in his fulfilment o^ the three ideas contained in
the words "I am the Way, the Truth, the Life." A

critical study of the references to the Angel Gabriel in
the Sacred Writings is made by the Abbe Raty. A

timely and scholarly article upon the national religion of
the Chinese is begun in this issue. To students of social
as well as religious questions it should be invaluable.

Stimmen aus Maria Laach (Jan.): Father Gietmann, S,J., con-
tributes an article on the life and writings of J. Balde, a
Jesuit poet of the seventeenth century. The article is
prefaced by some remarks on the interest which the
Society of Jesus has ever manifested in the study and

promotion of literature. The question of a reform in

the penal legislation 01 Germany is discussed by Fr,
Cathrein. The writer briefly criticises some of the pro-
posed modes of reform and shows that many of them
are objectionable, being based on false ethical and pyscho-

logical views. In an article entitled " Das neue Evan-

gelium des Abbe Loisy " there is given a brief sketch of
the abbe's career as a scholar, to which is added a
summary of the views of some more conservative scholars
concerning his positions, and an account of the action
taken by certain French ecclesiastical authorities against

his works. Among the book notices appears a very

lengthy review of the German translation oi Fr. Sheehan's
novel Luke Delmege. The notice is by Fr. Spillman, S.J.,
who praises the work very highly and bespeaks for it a
wide circulation among German readers.

Rasdn y Fe (Jan.) : P. Minteguiaga points out the provisions

Lof the Spanish civil law to prevent publications attacking
faith or morality, and petitions that the law be no
longer ignored but enforced. P. Murillo protests
against the vacillating, uncertain, and inconsistent way in
which the Pentateuch is handled by modern Biblical
critics. P. Valderrabano presents the first part of an
in
di

interesting study of diapadesis — that is, the phenomenon
due to the ameboid movement of white blood corpuscles

704

Library Table.

[Feb.

through the walls of blood-vessels, etc. P. Ferreres

draws attention to the astonishing length of time that
life remains in persons apparently dead, and he gives
practical advice as to the necessity of seeking to restore
life, and to administer baptism in all cases where decom-
position (the one certain sign of death) has not appeared.

Civilta Cattolica {19 Dec): Gives selections from P. Palmieri's
new volume Se e come i Sinnotici ci danno Gesu Crista per
Dio, directed against the three following theses attributed
to the Abbe Loisy: The Synoptic Gospels do not present
Christ as God ; The Fourth Gospel, since it does pre-
sent him as God, cannot be the work of an Apostle ;
The Fourth Gospel is, therefore, neither historical nor
an historical source.

(2 Jan.); Undertakes a study of "Catholic and Rational-
istic Notions about the Origin of the Testament," and
rebukes the Studi Reiigiosi for having greeted Harnack
with the title "famous writer" instead of "unbeliever."

Rassegna Nasionale (i Dec.); F, Nobili-Vitelleschi takes occa-
sion of the storm raised by Delitzsch's Babel u. Bibel to
point out that the significant point is not the fact that
the Old Testament borrowed largely from Chaldean
traditions, but rather that the current affirmations of
this fact are elements in a powerful movement against
the whole system of supernatural religion. That move-
ment is allied with attacks on authority, the family, and
property rights ; and its success would mean decadence
and the ending of our civilization. Reason and science,
in their own interest, had better recognize religion's rea-
son of being; but, on the other hand, religion had
better modify its practical side in deference to existing
conditions.

(16 Dec.) : R. Mariano comments on Harnack's new
book, The Propagation of Ckristianiiy in the First Three
Centuries, as an immense magic lantern displaying scenes
of all sorts, favorable and unfavorable to Christianity.

AN EXHIBIT OF CATHOLIC CHARITIES.

THE work of preparing for the St. Louis Exposition, to be
opened in April, 1904, an exhibit of the Catholic
charities in the United States has been undertaken by the
School of the Social Sciences in the Catholic University. The
plan has met such cordial encouragement from Archbishops,
Bishops, the Catholic press, and Catholic laymen who are active
in charity work, that the timeliness of the exhibit is manifest,
and the successful outcome of the work is practically assured.

For years the study of the efficiency of methods of charity
and correction has been steadily winning ground in universities
throughout Europe and America. The attention which the
charity exhibit at the Paris Exposition attracted demonstrated
the wisdom of it. Thus the Directors of the Louisiana Purchase
Exposition have good warrant for giving special prominence to
a general exhibit of charitable work in the United States.

The emphasis and prominence thus given to the work of
charity and correction make it imperative that the works of
the Catholic Church be represented.

The exhibit will be arranged in a way to show the organ-
ization, activity, resources, expenditures, the numbers assisted or
relieved, methods of assistance in hospitals, asylums, homes^
social settlements, and through associations. These totals wil>
be presented literally and graphically; that is, ihey will be
accompanied by maps, charts, and tables which will show con-
cretely and strongly the absolute and the relative features of
the work,

Those who are in charge of the work are very anxious to
make it exhaustive. It is desired that every club, guild, or
society of any kind in the United States organized by Catho-
lics for purposes of charity and every mutual association for
relief or protection be represented in the totals of this exhibit.
Request is made, therefore, that the secretary or other officer of
such clubs kindly send to the School of Social Sciences at the
University their name and address, so that information may
be asked from them concerning their activity.

Any such favor as that here requested will be gratefully
appreciated, although the consciousness of the nobility of the
work itself will surely stimulate all who may read this notice
to give assistance. Communications may be addressed to the
School of the Social Sciences, Catholic University, Washing-
ton, D. C.

7o6 THE COLUMBFAN READING UNION. [Feb.,

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

VERY few philanthropists devoted mainly to altruism ever think of gathering
statistics concerning the quality and quantity of the books in paper
covers said on trains and at railway news-stands. The standard of taste of
the man in the street might be determined more accurately by such a test
Most likely the publishers would decline to give their figures showing large
sales for low-grade books. It would be interesting, however, for some one
having leisure to note down the tides of such books at the railroad stations ia
large cities, and then to make a comparative study of the books provided for
the average reader at the smaller towns. It is stated that Professor Wood
berry, of Colum'sia University, some years ago made an interesting study of
books which sell by the hundred thousand among working girls and shop
boys, though the literary journals knew them not, and ordinarily intelligent
people had never heard of them. It was the morals inculcated by these
writers which the critic mentioned especially pondered. He found them often
queer, distorted, unconventional, but on the whole surprisingly in line with
what the world considers proper and wholesome. The same thing has been
observed of the plays in the People's Theatre, and places of the kind. The
morals are not refined, but are obviously sound. So are those of the news
papers which circulate almost exclusively among artisans and servants, hack-
men and motormen, seamstresses and others.

While the quality of the news which they print by preference, and with
every horror of typography and illustration, is atrocious and demoralizing in
the extrems, their directly inculcated morals, their editorial deliverances, are
generally beyond reproach. Their favorite themes arc the cardinal virtues,
or incardinated vices, and upon these they descant with a gusto of platitude
all their own. In the blackest of black-faced type they will maintain that
mothers ought to be good to their children, and will denounce drunkenness,
wife-beating, forgery, and murder with a vehemence as terrific as it is
amazing. And it is precisely this brazen-throated shouting of the obvious
which leads some men of active social sympathies to nod their heads sagely
and say, " Well, after all, admitting all you say about their horrible sensa-
tionalism and vulgarity, it is a good thing that the masses have such editorials

given them to read." ■

• • • V

The urgent need of Catholic journalism is well stated by the editot of the
Boston Pilot, which deserves extensive patronage on account of its high
standard of excellence. We suggest the discussion of this matter in all
Catholic Reading Circles on the lines indicated by the following quotation
from the Pilot:

It is quite true that the daily paper in America is devoting much space
to religious news, and particularly to news of the Catholic Church; also that
it has made much progress in giving Catholic news correctly, by its employ-
ment of Catholics who have facilities for getting it and the training to set it
forth properly. Catholics would be dull and unappreciative, indeed, who
would not recognize the splendid work of the daily press — for example, at
the death of Pope Leo XII [. and the succession of Pope Pius X.

1904]

THE Columbian Reading Union.

707

But in the matter of relifious news-giving the daily paper cannot
be expected to consider exclusively^ any religious denomination, how-
ever large and powerful, nor to discriminate in the matter of news, except in
favor of the most sensational and sale-making.

It spreads its nets everywhere, and promptly disseminates all that they
catch, whether of good report or scandal, of fact or invention, of strong
probability or crazy fancy.

Then, religious freakishness of every kind, however distasteful to Chris-
tians — whether of recondite Parsccs and high-caste Brahmins, or ignorant
and vulgar speculators in human credulity — must be duly exploited ; for the
followers of each and all read the papers.

So that even in the matter of news record, while the weekly religious
journal does not enter the lists with the daily press in news-getting, it has its
higher mission selecting and classifying and putting in suitable environments
what is of more than a day's interest, as well as of correcting erroneous
statements and false rumors.

What is needed among the Catholics is a judicious extinction of worse
than superfluous publications, and a concentration of eSort on those which
stand for something. There are in the United States 131 Catholic publica-
tions appearing weekly, to say nothing of a few dailies among the Germans
and Poles, some monthly magazines, and a number of college journals and
organs of guilds and associations.

This is certainly excessive for a population of twelve or thirteen million
Catholics. Moreover, many of these publications cannot represent more than
a starvlihood to their owners, and can give no adequate idea of Catholic
interests to their readers. They could be trusted to die of inanition if the
Catholic journais which stand for something were properly maintained.
The best resolution that can be formed is to pay at once an advance subscrip-
tion, not forgetting past debts, to your favorite Catholic paper or magazine.

State your convictions in cash.

% * *

Already, and within one year, two flourishing organizations have been
founded from the Catholic Newspaper Guild — henceforth to be called the
Catholic Reading Guild of Great Britain. The Irish Guild has for its presi-
dent the Cardinal Primate, and was founded by Mrs. Moore, of Mooresfort,
Tipperary; it is being introduced into most of the dioceses of Ireland, and is
worked by ladies only. Each member (men and women) must, in addition
to the subscription, contribute one book a year, with which Catholic libraries
will be started in hospitals, workhouses, etc. A diocesan committee of ladies
is formed in the principal town of the diocese, with sub-committees or indi-
viduals in smaller towns who act as collectors. Moreover, the presidents of
each diocesan council are to form a general committee, which will meet twice
a year. The books are distributed by the diocesan authorities, and the peri-
odicals by the local members to their local charities — in pursuance of the
golden rule of never destroying Catholic papers or magazines when read.
This Guild was publicly and formally inaugurated at the recent Dublin Con-
ference of the Irish Catholic Truth Society.

The South African Guild belongs to the Port Elizabeth vicariate only,
though before long probably similar guilds will be founded in the adjacent
vicariates. Its president is the Right Rev. Bishop MacSherry, who, indeed,

7o8 The Columbian' Reading Union. [Feb.,

secured its foundation, and the good work has been organized by Mr. Thomas
Stack, of Uitenhage.

We are pleased to learn that since the arrival of Bishop O'Connell at
Portland he has established many excellent societies for men, such as the
Catholic Union, the Ozanam Club, a gymnasium for the boys.

Quite recently he organized a Reading Circle for the Catholic ladies. At
its inception Miss Katherine E. Conway, associate editor of The Pilot, was
present and delivered a very interesting address to the ladies, explaining
the advantages of such a circle and the mode of conducting the work.

Already there is a good membership. The Rev. C, W. Collins, the
bishop's private secretary, will be the director. At their meeting on Decem-
ber z Mrs. E. J. McDonough was chosen secretary-treasurer, and Mrs.
William K. Looney and Miss Josephine O'Connor essayists for the following
meeting.

The society is organized for the purpose of studying church history, and
the Cultivating of literary tastes among the Catholic ladies of the city.

Reports showing good work and continued activity have reached the
Manager of the Columbian Reading Union from the Keeker Reading Circle,
Everett, Mass.; the John Boyle O'Reilly Circle, Boston; the Notre Dame
Reading Circle, Boston; the D'YouvJlIe Circle, Ottawa, Canada. The latter
has been doing very effective work in the discussion of recent works by Cath-
olic authors. At a recent meeting Mary Sarsfietd Gilmore's Joyce Josselyn,
Sinnefy was pronounced a strong book, making a timely plea for the beautiful
sanctities of home, an appeal to all womankind to keep up the standard of
dignity and duty, and therefore of happiness, by adhering closely to the un-
altered and unalterable declaration as to whom God hath joined.

Another work commented upon was The Knights of the Crass, by Henryk
Sienkiewicz. As literature of chivalry this book seems the strongest of modern
efforts to depict that fearfully interesting transition time between the close of
the Middle Ages and the opening of the new times, when knighthood was still
gloriously in flower in Eastern Europe, and the religious military orders at their
worst.

I
I
I

Margaret F. Sullivan, wife of Alexander Sullivan, of Chicago, died . I her
home in that city on December 28, after a week's illness. The announcement
has brought sorrow to many hearts on both sides of the Atlantic, for Mrs,
Sullivan's fame was great in the higher lines of journalism and of literature,
and as her heart matched her marvellous intoUect, her admirers were also her
devoted friends.

In journalism she was ranked, not with distinguished women of the press,
but with the ablest of men, as Charles A. Dana, of the Sun, for which paper ^
she did some of her best work. She was one of the writers on the supplement- H
ary volumes of the Encvclopedia Bn'tannica, and an occasional contributor to ^
the Narth A merit an Revie7o^ the American Catholic Quarterly y and the Cath-
olic World. At the time of her death she was on the editorial staff of the
Chicago Chronicle, and was also assistant editor of the Catholic Re\<iew oj
Pedagogy. She is the author of a notable book, Ireland of To-day, written in
the early 8o's, after an extended study on the spot of the Irish land question,
the Home Rule movement, and related topics; and she collaborated with
Mary Elizabeth Blake (Mrs. John G. Blake), of Boston, in the authorship of
Mexico: Politicaly Picturesque, Progressive, after a tour which these ladies
made together.

Mrs. Sutlivan made frequent professional trips to Europe besides the one
which resulted in Ireland of To-day, Her description in the New York Sun of
the opening of Gladstone's Parliament in r886 was highly praised by leading
journalists. She represented the Associated Press at the Paris Exposition of
1899, and attended the trial of Charles Stewart Parnell in the Times- forgeries
case in London, giving the best description of its proceedings and the persons
involved.

1904. J

The Columbian Reading Union.

709

She did gieat work on maay notable political, literary, and religious
occasions in her own country. During the World's Fair, and for some years
before and after, she was an editorial and special article writer on the Chicago
Herald.

Her range of intellect, her unusual education and experience, and her
splendid heakh^never in the least impaired until about six years ago — made
a rare combinition. Familiar with Greek and Latin and all tine modern
languages, strong in literature, music, art, politics, scientific subjects — noth-
ing came amiss to her.

Her thoughts crystallized quickly; her style was most individual; her
journalistic conscience most acute.

Withal, she was a womanly woman, both in aspect and feeling, intense
in her love, loyalty, and self-sacrifice.

Mrs. Sullivan was an earnest Catholic, with many friends among our
eminent churchmen. She was deeply interested in the Catholic intellectual
advance and all other good works of the city of her home. Many valuable
suggestions from her pen have been discussed in this department of the

Columbian Reading Union.

• • «

Nugent Robinson, a *el!-known Catholic writer, died of pneumonia after
a few days' illness at the residence of his sister, Mrs. Travers, in New York
City, on December 26. Born in Dublin June 1, 1838, Mr. Robinson was
associated in his youth with many men who afterwards became famous in the
literary world.

Coming to the United States in 1876, he was engaged for several years in
editorial work on the publications of the late Frank Leslie. Later he went
with P. F. Collier and started Collier's Weekly. Mr. Robinson retired from
this character of work several years ago. He was the author of several valu-
able works of reference and of a number of novels and short stories. Many of
the latter appeared in the pages of the Catholic World, the Ave Marian and
other Catholic periodicals. His last published work, Kriitoffiky, a story of
Russian life, appeared in the Ave Maria during the present year.

Mr. Robinson was a devout Catholic and a close friend of the late Car-
dinal McCloskey. He is survived by three sons, one of whom, Father Paschal,
is professor in the Franciscan Monastery at Washington, D. C. Father
Paschal administered Extreme Unction and the Holy Viaticum to his father,
and was also at the Mass celebrated before the funeral, which took place in
the family plot at St. Peter's Cemetery on Staten Island.

When Mr. Robinson came to this country nearly thirty years ago, and
began to write for American Catholic publications, he introduced a new ele-
ment into the distinctly Catholic literature of that day. He had lived in many
lands, and was evidently familiar with many languages and literatures ; and
his stories had all the dash and adventure of Lever's with as hearty merri-
ment and as brilliant style, but modified by the delicate restraint of ihe true
Catholic spirit. Catholic literature in those days was in general too obviously
bent on edification, and most CaihoHc writers failed to see that they could
better serve even their primal purpose of doing good by a more fearless hold-
ing of the mirror up to nature. Mr. Robinson set a new pace in his stories of
life in Ireland, and on the Continent. Within twenty-five years a great
advance has been made in Catholic literature, both in fidelity to nature and
in artistic merit; how great only they can realize who remember the heavy
controversial tales and the painful translations from the French that consti-
tuted the bulk of the Sunday-school literature of a former generation.
Nugent Robinson deserves our grati'ude as one of the helpers in the transition

to better things.

• • •

A question lately sent to the Manager of the Columbian Reading Union
is as follows: Do you know of any book treating upon the duty and influence
of the laity in church matters? Suggestions arc invited to answer this im-
portant question. How many books are available on this matter? M. C. M,

NEW BOOKS.

BsNziGER Brothers, New York:

WArre Believers May Doubt. By Rev. Vincent McNabb, O.P. Pp. 114. ChanuteriitUs
frvtn the Writinei of Father Faber. Arranged bv Rev. J. Fiup.alrick, O.M. Pp. 6a6.
Bishop and hu Flock. By Right Rev. John Cutlibert Hedley, O.S.B. Pp.414. Sh»rt
Readwgt on the Devotion to the Holy Ghost. Compiled by Father M.. O.F.M. Pp. 6|.
Elements 0/ Jtelifficus Life. By William Humphrey, S.J. Pp. 438.

Young Chi;rchman Comi-amy, Milwaukee, Wis.:

Tvienty-four Sermons from St. Ignatius' Pulpit. By the Rev. Arthur Ritchie. Pp. 398.
Price $1.00. The Reunion of Oriental and Anglican Ckurckts. By the Right Rev,
Charles Chapman Grafton, D.D. Pp. 39.

Messengbr. New York:

The Real St. Francis of Assist.
cents.

By Father Paschal Robinson, O.F.M. Pp. 93. Price 23

By Rjp-

GlNN & Co., Boston, Mass.:

Louisiana Purchase and the Exploration, Early History, and BuUdbtg of the West.

ley Hitchcock. Pp. 349. Price $1.35.

Government Printing OFficE, Washin^on, D. C. :

Report of the Commissioner of Education for the year lyot. Vol. I. United States Depart-
ment of Agriculture, Division of Foreign Markets. Bulletin No.jj. By Frank H. Hitch-
cock. Report cf the Secretary of Agriculture. Monthly Bulletin of the Intemmtidtnal Bu-
reau of the American Republic, December, /go 7. United States Department of Agriculture,
Bureau of Statistics : li'ages of Farm Labor u$ the United Slates. Bulletin of the Bureau
of Labor. No. 50. January, rgaf,

American Book Companv. New York, Cincinnati, Chicngo:

A Greek Primer. By Clarence W. Glcason, A.M. (Harvard). Pp. 349.

LiDRAiRiE Bi.OUD ET CiR, Paris:

Le Cerveau. Par Ic Docteur E. Balms.

Pp. 63.

P. Lkthiblleux. Paris:

QiustioHS d'^criture Sainte. Par Charles P. Grannao. Traduil de I'Anflais par I'AbMi
L. Collin.

LiBXAiRiE Victor I.ecoffre, Paris:

Les Psaumes. Traduits de 1' Hebrew par M.

D. D'Eyragues. Pp. 402.

E. Noi'RRY, Paris:

La Riforme Intellectuelle du Cltrg/ et La Lihtrti d' Enseignement.
L'AmMcanisme. A. Houtin.

Par P. Saintyvc

F£i.ix AJ.CON. Paris:

Aristote. Par Clodius I^at.

Pp. 396.

Rev. John ¥. Noi.i.. New Haven. Ind. :

A'lW Words from Your Pastor. By Rev. John F. Noll.

B. Heboer, St. Louis:

Catholic Sermons. Bv Very Rev. John B. Bagshawe. Pp. 814. a vols. Price $3.35 net.
The Tragedy of Chris. By Ros* Mulholland. Pp. 335. Price $1.50 net. Wanted— a
Situation, and Other Stories. By Isabel Nixon Whiteley. Pp. 191. Price 60 cents.
Studies in Saintship. Translated from the French of Ernest Hello, With Introduction
by Virginia M. Crawford. Pp. a 16. Price 90 cents net.

John J. McVev, Philadelphia:

The Titfo Kenricks. By John J. OShea.
John Ryan, Archbishop of Philadelphia,

With an Introduction by Most Rev. Patrick
Pp. 495. Price %a,s».

Allcembine Verlags-Gesellschaft, M. B. H. MOnchen:

Geschickte der Katholis<hen Kirfhe. Von Professor I. P. Kirsch und Professor V. Lukscb.
Nos. I and a. Price per number i mark.

Union News League, Boston :

Socialism .• the Nation of Fatherless Children.
Moore Avery, Pp. 374. Price 50 cents.

By David Goldstein. Edited by Martha

RbvJames a. Burns. C.S.C.
The Training of the Teacher.

Pliiladelphia :

By Rev. James A. Bums, C.S.C

J. B. LvoN Company, Albany, N. Y. :

State of New York, Department of Labor Bulletin.

Pp. 38
Published Quarterly,

BY MOST REVEREND JOHN J. KEANE. D.D.

We preach Christ crucified ; unto the Jews indeed a stunibling'-block, and unto the gen-
''tiles foolishness ; but unto ihctn Thai arc called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of
God and the wisdom of God." — /. Cor. i tj, 24.

'HESE sublime words give us in one sentence the
whole meaning of that phenomenal man whom
we call St. Paul, — the meaning of his character,
of his conversion, ol his work as an Apostle, of
his influence in the life of mankind.
Power and wisdom are the two agencies that move the
world. In Almighty God they are inseparable and identical.
Therefore, says the Holy Scripture : " Wisdom reacheth from
end to end mightily, and ordereth all things sweetly." In
God, Power and Wisdom are united in Love ; and their work
is all for the world's good.

Man, too, has his share of power and of wisdom for the
accomplishment of his life-work. Thought and will are the two
forces by which he shapes his own life, acts upon his fellow-
men, and bends to his service all the energies of nature, But
his thought is not always wisdom, and therefore his will is not
always right. Nay, his thought and his will may wander far
from wisdom and rectitude; then the result must be evil both
for himself and for those he influences. Then blessed is he if
some saving power will bring back his thoughts to wisdom, his
will to rectitude, and his life to beneficence.

•A Sermon delivered ai Solemn Mass in the presence of his Excellency the Apostolic
Delegate, in the Church of St. Paul the Apostle, New York City, on January 24, 1904.

The Missionaky Socikty or St. Paul thk Apostlk in thx Statb

or New York, 1903.
VOL. LXXVIII.— 46

712 The Mission of St. Paul. [Mar.^

, But know you not, exclaims St. Paul, that Christ is the
wisdom of God and the power of God ? Know you not that
it is by the coming of Christ Crucified into your erring and
sinful lives that the thinking of your minds will be brought
into conformity with God's wisdom, and the striving of your
wills into conformity with God's power ?

How did Saul of Tarsus come to understand this ? How did
St. Paul impress this on the mind and the heart of the world I

From the sketch which he gives us of his own life, we see
that even in his youth Saul of Tarsus was a man of no com-
mon mould. From his childhood he developed into one of
those choice souls who are not content with the commonplace
interests and gratifications of life. Instinctively he craved for
wisdom and power, both for the perfecting of his own being,,
and that his life might count for good among his fellow-men.
Instinctively, too, he looked to God for the wisdom and the
power that he craved. For his reason showed him that any-
thing lower than that, different from that, must necessarily be
imperfect, unsatisfactory, delusive.

Tarsus, his birthplace, was a Grecian city of Asia Minor.
In its schools, in its assemblies, in the disputations of its pub-
lic places, he had ample opportunity to become acquainted
with the sophistical philosophies of the day, with their influ^
ence on Greek thought and Greek habits of life. He found
not in these the wisdom that he sought. Whatever glimmer-
ings of light were in them were not to be compared with the
light of wisdom which shone in God's Revelation to Israel.
Therefore did he waste no time on the obscure, the fragmen-
tary, the uncertain, but gave all his time and all his heart to
the fulness and the certainty found in the Word of God.

Gamaliel was then the most famous teacher in Jerusalem,
and Saul rested not until he was enrolled among his disciples.
At that great master's feet he studied the utterances of Divine
Wisdom given through Moses and David and Solomon and all
the sages of Israel. From Isaias and all the Prophets he
learned of the coming Messias, the Expected of the nations,
the Desired of the everlasting hills, for whom Israel had been
praying and sighing these many centuries; the Emmanuel, God
with us ; the Wonderful, the Counsellor, the Mighty God, the
Father of the world to come, the Prince of Peace ; who was

1904.]

The mission of St. Paul.

713

soon to come to fulfil all the desires of Israel and to make of
her enemies the footstool of her feet.

As the light of that wisdom grew clearer in his mind, there
sprang up in his heart a burning desire to be not merely a
disciple but a soldier of that all- conquering Messias. His zeal
became like that of the stern Elias, and he longed for a fiery
sword, like that of the great Prophet, to smite the enemies of
the Lord, He craved not only for the wisdom of the Lord
but also for the power of the Lord, to overcome all gainsayers.

Thus did he spend his years until the ripeness of manhood;
and then he was enrolled and commissioned as a Scribe, a
Pharisee, and a Master of the Law.

Meantime, Jesus of Nazareth had come and gone. Small
heed did the eager- minded and fiery- hearted young studtnt of
the law of Moses pay to the humble apparition of the Naza-
rene. But now that he was gone, his disciples were proclaimirg
that he was the Messias, the Saviour of Israel and of the
world. To Saul this declaration was a blasphemy against the
Law of the Prophets, against all the wisdom of God. In the
wrath of Elias he rushed forward to denounce this usurpation;
to quench the lie, if necessary, in the bJood of its votaries.

Thinking that the massacre of Stephen had sufficiently in-
flamed the zeal of the Israelites and dampened the courage of
the Christians in Jerusalem, he rushes toward Damascus with
a picked troop, to head off the pernicious error and hinder it
from gaining a foothold among the gentiles. And lo ! at mid-
day, a light beyond the brightness of the sun flashes on him
from heaven ; he and all that are with him are stricken to the
ground; and they hear a voice saying to him; "Saul, Saul,
why persecutest thou me ? It is hard for thee to kick against
the goad." "Who art thou, Lord?" exclaims Sau!. "I am
Jesus of Nazareth whom thou persecutest. Rut rise up and
stand on thy feet ; for to this end have I appeared to thee,
that I may make thee a minister and a witness of those things
which thou hast seen, and of those things concerning which I
shall yet appear to thee, delivering thee from the people, and
from the nations unto which I now send thee, to open their
eyes, that they may be converted from darkness to light, and
from the power of Satan to God ; that they may receive for-
giveness of sins and a lot among the saints, by the faith that
is in me" (Acts xxvi.)

Trembling and astonished, he exclaims : " Lord, what wilt
thou have me to do?" " Go into the city/* answers the LordflH
"and there it shall be told thee what thou must do." He rises
and finds that he is blind. They lead him by the hands into
the city. Three days and three nights he remains blind, neither
eating nor drinking, prostrate in spirit at the feet of the Lord,
dying to the pride and the self-sufficiency that have hitherto
inflated and swayed him, sinking deeper and deeper into those
depths of humility in which alone true nobleness of soul v^M
developed, in which alone a man becomes fit to be the instru-
ment of the wisdom and the power of God.

At last, Ananias comes and baptizes him, scales fall from
his eyes, and his soul is illumined by the radiance of Jesus,
the Light of the World. ^m

Instantly he makes atonement to both the Christians an^H
the Jews of Damascus, by proclaiming his conversion and
declaring to them all that Jesus is the Son of God, the Messias
of Israel, the Saviour of the world.

But he knows full well that as yet he has no fitness to be
a preacher of the Gospel. He remembers, too, the promise of
the Lord, that he would appear to him again and instruct him
in all that he must know and all that he must do. As soon
-as possible, therefore, he retires to a secluded spot in Arabia,
not far from the confines of Palestine, and there he remains
hidden for three years, at the feet of a greater Master than
Gamaliel. There he learns how Christ is the fulfilment of the
Law and the Prophets, destroying nothing but accomplishing
all things. Day by day his love for Israel twines itself more
and more closely around Jesus his Messias. More and more
clearly does he see and understand how the Wisdom of God is
summed up in the Word made flesh. And his proud soul
trembles, as it did that day on the road to Damascus, while he
contemplates the humiliations of the Son of God, and beholds all
his cherished notions of a haughty conquering Messias sink out
of sight in those blessed depths ; and thus he comes gradually
to appreciate that the abasement and the crucifixion of the
Saviour of the world are the very power of God that shall
break in pieces the pride and the sensuality and all the way-
wardness of the sons of men. ^H

Thus does he learn his mighty lesson that Christ Crucifieo™
IS the wisdom of God and the power of God. And now he is

1 904. J The Mission of St. Paul. 715

ready to begin the work to which his Divine Master has called
him.

But the work of Divine Wisdom is always a work of order
and sweetness. Therefore Paul's apostolate was to blend
harmoniously with the Apostolic ministry already established by
our Lord. By direction of a special reveJation, then, he comes
to Jerusalem to commune with Peter. During fifteen days
each pours out his whole mind and heart to the other.
Together they adore the providence of the Lord, who has
clearly marked the limits of their respective ministries. The
mission of Peter is especially to the children of Israel j the
missiion of Paul is especially to the gentiles. Peter has univer-
sal jurisdiction, as the holder of the Keys of the Kingdom of
Christ; Paul has a universal commission, as the Apostle of the
Gentiles, to bring the scattered children of God in all the earth
into the salvation of that one fold. Thus they are to work
together.

Already Peter, guided by the hand of the Lord, had gone
beyond the limits of Palestine, and established the Church
among the gentiles in Antioch, the capital of Syria. Com-
pelled to return to Jerusalem, he had sent Barnabas to Antioch
to direct the faithful in his stead. The soul of Barnabas hun-
gered for the salvation of the vast multitudes of gentiles among
whom the poor little flock of Jewish converts was hidden. He
learned that his old friend Saul — for they had been companions
in youth — had returned from his solitude in Arabia, and, after
having communed with Peter, had gone to hide himself again
in his birthplace, Tarsus. Thither Barnabas speeds with all
haste, and telis him of the work awaiting him in Antioch. God's
will is plain, and he hurries to his task. With all the intensity
of his nature, and with all the fervor of his love for God and
for souls, he toils by day and by night for a whole y^ar
among the gentiles of that great city, convincing them that
Christ Crucified is the wisdom of God and the power of God.
Multitudes yield to his zeal ; the Church becomes numerous
and flourishing; and here for the first time the disciples of the
Lord receive the name of Christians.

Then farther and farther to the north and to the west he
evangelizes the cities of Asia Minor. Everywhere he finds
vast populations totally given up to the errors and the corrup-

7l6 THE MISSION OF ST. PAUL. [Mar.,

tions of heathenism, with just enough of Greek culture to
make them despise the little Jew who comes to tell them of a
crucified God. But ere long they discover that his insignifi-
cant body is the casket of a giant soul. The torrent of burning
speech that flows from his lips is eloquent, " not with the per-
suasive words of human wisdom, but with the showing of the
Spirit of God and his power." The power of Christ Crucified
everywhere gains the victory. The Galatians, the Colossians,
the Ephesians, and numbers of other populations rally to the
standard of the Crucified, and give to Paul the consolation of
their grateful, devoted love, as well as the solicitude of their
guidance in the often thorny paths of Christian duty.

But during all the years that he is thus engaged one
thought, one craving, pursues him unceasingly. He longs to
carry the Gospel to Athens and to Rome. Athens, the city of
Minerva, the fountain of philosophy, is the centre of the world's
wisdom ; Rome, the city of Jupiter, the incomparable metropolis
of arms and of laws, is the centre of the world's power.
Therefore does he wish to bring to them the wisdom of God
and the power of God, that the one might teach the world
wisely, and the other might rule the world rightly. And the
Lord had made known to him that one day he should do those
two things. But he must bide the Lord's time, and grow more
and more fit to be the Lord's instrument for the great
work.

At last the time arrives. He is at Troas, on the borders
of the i£gean Sea, separating Asia Minor from Greece. In a
vision of the night a Macedonian appears to him beseeching
him and saying, " Cross over into Macedonia, and help us."
It is the voice of the Lord calling him to Greece; and eagerly
he obeys. Not yet in Athens ; but in Philippi and Thessalonica
and Berea, the three great centres of Macedonia, the outposts
of the citadel of wisdom, he proclaims the glad tidings of the
Gospel. In each place honest souls are ready to respond, and
these form the infant Church of Greece. But in each place he
is resisted by men filled with the blind zeal that once animated
himself. These stir up seditions, induce the civil authorities to
arrest him, and thus have him banished from town after town.
They drive him out of Berea, the last scene of his labors in
Macedonia. His heart is heavy as he bids farewell to his
n ophytes, commending them to the care of the Lord. But

heart is filled wit
sail for Athens.

He enters Athens all alone. He had left Luke and Timo-
thy and Silas in Macedonia, to carry on and solidify the work
so well begun there. Solitary and alone he stands at last amid
the artistic splendors of the teacher of the world. Long he
had sighed and prayed for this moment; and now that it has
come, it overwhelms him with trembling dread. Timidly he
enters the Agora, the central public square, which was like the
great pulsating heart of Athenian life. He feels himself lost
amid such a throng. They pass and repass him — smiling
Sophists, sneering Cynics, languid Epicureans, dark- browed
Stoics, the dignified disciples of Plato, the keen- eyed followers
of Aristotle — they pass him and repass him in the avenues of
the Agora, pausing every now and then to wonder who that
little stranger could be, with so superhuman an intelligence in
his face and so unearthly a light in his eyes. Silently he
passes from one to another of the groups who here and there
are gathered to talk and to discuss. Everywhere he hears only
levity, only the eloquence of speakers who seek nothing but
applause, only the merry laugh of a people desiring nothing
but to be amused. And yet there, to the right, is the statue
of Minerva, shining down upon them from the splendors of the
Acropolis ; and there, to the left, is the mount of the Areo-
pagus, where sits the assembly that is ready to pass sentence
on all the problems of mankind !

The heart of Paul grows sick as, day after day, he listens
in these assemblies to all that remains of the vaunted philoso-
phy of Greece. And still more sick does it grow as, day after
day, he studies the religion of Greece, and gazes on its mani-
festations in statuary and architecture and stately ceremony.
He sees that they have deified all Nature, and especially all
humanity. From Minerva, the deification of the human intelli-
gence, he follows the line of gods and goddesses, deifying
every hurftan faculty and every human instinct. And lest any-
thing in nature might escape them, here and there they have
altars " to the unknown god."

This thought Paul seizes upon as his starting point in
approaching such an auditory, Here and there he has rather
timidly taken part in their discussions, hoping to find an
entrance for the word of life. But now he tells them boldl-vj

7l8 THE MISSION OF ST. PAUL. [Mar.,

that the unknown God whom they worship he has come from
Judea to make known to them. At once their attention is
seized. The sibyls and the pythonesses had more than once
declared that from the East, yea from Judea, a ruler of the
world was shortly to appear. Might this stranger tell them
something of the coming conqueror, who might, perhaps, be
their " unknown God " ? They lead him to the Areopagus,
that he may tell this wonderful thing before the most vener-
able assembly in the world.

In words such as that assembly had never listened to, Paul
tells them of the true God, the Infinite Being, the Creator;
not deified nature, but the Author of nature and all its won-
ders. He tells them of the deification of humanity, not such
as they had weakly imagined it, but in the sublime mystery
of the Incarnation. He tells how all the treasures of the wis-
dom dnd the power of God are in Christ, the Light of the
world, the Redeemer of the world from its iniquities, who, hav-
ing died to deliver us from death, had risen again to lead us
to newness of life, and would one day be the Judge of all the
good deeds and all the evil deeds of mankind.

But his speech has grown too serious for that crowd of
sophists. It is too much like the moralizing of Socrates, which
their forefathers had resented and for which they had put the
old philosopher to death. They cannot condemn Paul to drink
hemlock, but they drown his words with their murmurs.
" Away with him," say some. " We '11 hear you another time,"
say others. And so the crowd disperses, and Paul goes back
sad to his poor lodgings.

Has, then, his long- wished- for visit to Athens been in
vain ? Not so. The Lord reminds him that " unless the seed,
falling into the ground, dieth, it remaineth itself alone; but if
it fall into the ground and die, it bringeth forth much fruit."
Next day he is comforted by a visit from Dionysius the
Areopagite, who consecrates his genius to Christ Crucified.
And then Damaris, and others with these, become disciples of
the Lord. And then his Divine Master opens to him the por-
tals of the future, and from the seed which he has here planted
he sees growing up the vast tree of Christian wisdom which is
to overshadow the world with its beauteous foliage. He sees
first the philosophy of Plato, and then the philosophy of Aris-
totle, with a Divine soul breathed into it, more than realizing

1904.]

THE MISSION OF ST. PAUL.

719

the dream of Socrates, genius consecrated to the service of
Eternal Wisdom, philosophy the handmaid of Divine Revela-
tion for the enlightening of the world.

Leaving Athens, he does not quit Greece. He repairs to
Corinth, the commercial metropolis of the country. There he
finds less intellectuality and more grossness of heathen corrup-
tion, but also less pride and flippancy, more sincerity and
seriousness of character. The response is so encouraging that
he lingers there for two years, and establishes one of the most
flourishing churches in all Christendom.

During those two years many a time did his heart turn
back longingly toward Athens, wondering how it was faring
with the poor little seed of heavenly wisdom which he there
had planted. This the Lord kept hidden from him, a secret
of God's providence for the world's future. But still more
frequently did the longings of his heart turn westward towards
Rome. The Divine Master has told him that he will yet go
there, will give testimony to Christ Crucified in that capital of
the world's power. But he must await the Lord's time.
Meanwhile he revisits all his missions in Palestine, Syria, Asia
Minor, and Macedonia, and so gets back to Corinth once more.

And now more than ever is his mind drawn toward Rome.
Peter has preceded him there, and has established there the
world-centre of the Apostolic Ministry. But the needs of the
universal Church have called Peter to Jerusalem and have
detained him in the churches of the East. Meantime dissen-
sions have arisen among the Christians in Rome which threaten
the existence of the faith among them. The converts from
Judaism and the converts from gentilism are quarrelling as to
their respective standing in the Church, and even as to the
essentials of Christian duty. The dispute is similar to others in
the East, which Paul has been chiefly instrumental in bringing to
a peaceful solution. Therefore is he here impelled to be once more
peace-maker and teacher. Hence his Epistle to the Romans.

He shows them how foolish is their contention, since Jews
and gentiles are equally children of the first Adam and inheri-
tors of his sin, and equally children of Christ the second
Adam, and inheritors of his grace. Yet does his' love for
Israel pour itself forth in a magnificent tribute to the race
which has given to the world Moses and David and Solomon
and the Machabees, the race of the Patriarchs and the Prophets,

720 The mission of St. Paul. [Mar,

of Christ and His Mother, of Joseph and the Apostles, the
race of the covenant and the promises of God, which are with-
out repentance. They are the root and stem of the tree of
salvation; we gentiles are but the wild olive branch which the
mercy of God has grafted into that root, and we must beware
of ever despising that primitive race, into whose place and
vocation we have been called, but which is still Christ's own
race and will one day come and restore to him its allegiance.

Then he goes on to show how Christian faith and love have
taken the place of the observances of the Old Law, which sim-
ply prepared for the Religion of Grace. Thus he lays broad
and clear the foundations of Christian theology for ever.

Finally he calls their attention to the civil power which has
its centre in Rome. He reminds them of the great truth,
which he is longing to proclaim in Rome itself, that all power
is from God, that the law of God must rule its exercise, and
that obedience must be given to it as to the authority of God.
Then he asks them to pray that the day may soon come when
he will have the happiness of seeing them and speaking to
them the word of life.

It came three years from that date. But he enters the
Eternal City a prisoner in chains. Revisiting his beloved mis-
sions in Palestine, he has been seized by the Jews, who drag
him before the civil authorities in Jerusalem and demand that
he be put to death as his Master had been. Paul alleges his
rights as a citizen of a Roman municipality, which Tarsus was,
and appeals to the court of the emperor. To Rome then he
was sent as Caesar's prisoner.

If he trembled on entering Athens, still more does he-
tremble on entering the Eternal City, where he knows that the
crowning work of his ministry is to be accomplished. As he
saw Minerva, the goddess of wisdom, smiling down on Athens
from the hill of the Acropolis, so he now sees Jupiter, the
god of power, looking sternly down on Rome from the height
of the Capitol. Under the grasp of that power the entire
world lies prostrate. The striving of the nations for indepen-
dence has yielded to the might of the Roman eagles. From
the Atlantic Ocean to distant India, from Britain to the heart
of Africa, Rome's dominion is without resistance. As at the
birth of Christ, the temple of Janus is still closed and the Pax
Romana reigns throughout the world.

1904]

The mission of St. Paul.

721

And shall he presume to offer teaching to such a power ?
Shall he, a poor despised prisoner in chains, dare to utter
words of authority in this queen city of the universe ? Yes,
" for the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness
of God is stronger than men." He knows that, through heathen
error and heathen corruption, the feet of this mighty world-
statue, which Daniel had seen in his vision, though moulded of
strong iron, are yet mingled with crumbling clay. He knows
that not the power of justice, but the power of pride and greed
and violence now sways the mighty empire; and he* knows
that these are disintegrating forces which must ere long work
its ruin. He knows that the day cannot be far distant when
that little stone which Daniel saw in his vision, the stone of
Divine justice and love, rushing down from the heights of Cal-
vary, would strike the gorgeous colossus, scatter it like pow-
der, and then grow and fill the earth. He knows that he
comes to prepare Rome for that future, to plant in her very
heart that living seed of the power of God, whose growth shall
make her the Capital not of Caesardom but of Christendom.

Providence gives him time for his work. Nero is so im-
mersed in his pleasures that he is in no hurry to attend to
the business of his tribunal. Two whole years Paul waits
for his trial; and during that time, although fastened by a
chain to a Pretorian guard, he is free to come and go as he
will. Everywhere he is welcomed as the messenger of the
Lord. Peter is still absent in the East, and all bow unques-
tioningly to the Apostolic authority of Paul. From the little
Christian community the fame of his unearthly eloquence
spreads among all the serious-minded of the city, and converts
to Christ are numbered even among Caesar's household. They
who have foreseen the impending ruin of the empire, and could
see nothing but anarchy beyond, now recognize that Christ
Crucified is the wisdom of God and the power of God, and
that in him lies the hope of the world's future.

At last he is judged by Nero and set free, for the tyrant
has not yet become a persecutor of the Church. He knows
that this is a last opportunity granted him to revisit the
scenes of his missionary labors and give his farewell advice and
blessing to his children in God. Me crowns this sweet, sad
pilgrimage by a visit to Jerusalem, the City of God, which he
has always loved and honored as his mother. For the last time

722

The Mission of St. Paul.

[Mar.,

he kneels in the Temple, which he is well aware is soon to
disappear from the earth ; and on Calvary, whence the power
and the wisdom and the love of Christ Crucified are pouring
forth to possess the world; and on Mount Olivet, whence the
dear Master had ascended to prepare a place for his faithful
disciples.

Then he finds Peter, and tells him that Nero has begun
the persecutions, has decreed death to all Christians, and that
they must go together to put courage into the flock of the
Lord and show them how to die for Christ, Together they
hasten back to Rome. Together they give heart to the terri-
fied Christians, making them invincible against all the tortures
that fiendish ingenuity could devise. Together they are thrown
into prison, where they still carry on their apostolic work.
And together, on the 29th of June, in the year 66, they lay
down their lives for Him who died for us all. And, says Ter-
tullian, "the blood of the Martyrs is the seed of the Church."

Thus God has planted in the heart of Rome the seed of the
power of Christ Crucified, as he had planted in Athens the
seed of his wisdom. Through the cold, hard winter of the
following centuries His providence keeps it safe beneath the
snows; and when the folly of human pride and power and
sophistry has done its worst and has failed, then that seed of
Divine wisdom and power shoots up its blessed growth, to cover
the earth with its beauty and save the nations with its healing.
And till the end of time men shall bless the wondrous Apostle
who was God's chief instrument in this mighty work.

And has not our own day special reason to study that
marvellous man and ponder well the lesson of his life ? We
are in a crucial moment of the world's existence. Like a
mighty pendulum, the thought of mankind has ever been swing-
ing, in successive epochs, from one extreme to another, from
idealism to materialism and back again, from faith to unbelief
and back again. At present we seem to be midway in the
swing, in an epoch that mistrusts all extremes, even all positive
assertions; an epoch that says, "I don't know," and that is
prone to say, " I don't care." Intellectuality, as shown in the
literature of the day, has grown into the spirit which Paul
found in Athens; a spirit of flippancy in viewing all great
problems; a spirit of humanism, which whether it show itself

The Mission of St. Paul.

723

in the seriousness of the Stoic or in the sensuousness of the
Epicurean, is at bottom a deification of nature, and espe-
cially of humanity. And power, as shown in the social
strivings of the day, has grown into a spirit like unto that
which Paul found in Rome ; a spirit which tends to regard
not right but might, not justice and love but pride and anger
and greed, not the law of God but the law of expediency, as
the arbiter of all human disputes. It is the spirit of the world's
politics to-day, the spirit of the world's commercialism, the
spirit of the industrial strife in which lie hid possibilities of
social revolution which we shrink from contemplating.

And shall not the Athens and the Rome of to-day learn
wisdom from the past ? Do they not see that it is unscientific,
contrary to all that they teach concerning progress and evolu-
tion, to go back to the intellectual and moral conditions which
the clear light of reason, and the hard facts of experience, and
the overruling providence of God exploded and cast forth
nineteen centuries ago? That spirit then was a mighty influ-
ence for the corruption of civilization and the disintegration of
human society ; we may rest assured that its tendency is pre-
cisely the same to-day. The shipwrecked world was then
saved by the wisdom and the power of Christ Crucified; if
the lesson of history avails aught, the salvation of civilization
and of society need now be sought nowhere else. To every
mind that is groping for the anchor of truth, and to every
heart that is hungering for right living, St. Paul is not only an
assertion or an argument, but a demonstration, that in Christ
Crucified, and in him alone, is the wisdom of God to be found
for the enlightening of the human mind, and the power of God
for the directing of human life. St. Paul does not, like other
masters, simply expound the teaching of a school ; he tells us,
with the irresistibleness of personal certainty, what he has seen
and heard and knows. To all the vaporings of a Strauss, a
Renan, or a Harnack concerning the person and nature of
Christ, he thunders out his answer: "I know whom I have
believed ; and I am certain that He is able to make good the
trust which I have reposed in Him." And to the anxious
minds that seek for a philosophy of the universe, he exclaims
in inspiring and uplifting tones : " All things are yours ; and
you are Christ's; and Christ is God's." These are the links of
the mighty chain which binds the universe to the heart of God :

724 The Mission of St. Paul. [Mar.,

the chain which we call Religion. And among all whom we
must bless for our knowledge of it, there is no one to whom
we are so deeply indebted as to St. Paul.

And well may we, on this occasion, give thanks to God for
having raised up in our midst, for the good of our generation
and of generations to come, a providential exponent of the
character and the teaching and ihe influence of St. Paul in the
person oC Father Hecker. By the instincts of his nature, he
spent his youth seeking for wisdom in many forms of religious
and philosophic thought, and for power to benefit the human
race in various systems of political and social refoim. At
length, by a grace akin to that granted St. Paul, it was given
him to see that all the treasures of God's wisdom and power
*re given us through Christ Crucified, and that the old Church
of Christ is his appointed channel for their dispensation to
mankind. Like St. Paul, he vowed that he " would consecrate
his life to tearing the bandage from the eyes of his fellow-
countrymen," as I once heard him express it. To join in the
great work, he attracted others with souls kindred to his own.
Most fittingly did he give to the body thus formed the name
of The Congregation of St. Paul the Apostle, and teach them
that their work was to be, like that of St. Paul, a perpetual
mission to the gentiles.

He, and the band of heroes who first joined him, have all
gone to hear " Well done ! " from St. Paul and from our Lord.
The first chapter in the history of any great work is sure to
be a record of difficulties encountered and overcome, especially
if it is a work for Christ Crucified. St. Paul had his share,
and a large one ; the PauHsts have had theirs, and they- will
have more in the future if they are true to their Divine Mas- fl
ter. Even good men will sometimes misunderstand and mis-
represent them, as has already happened ; but the fruitfulness
of their labors for Christ will be redoubted by their drinking of
Mis cup.

As the years go by, may the spirit of St. Paul and of
Father Hecker be more and more perfected in them I And as
the generations come and go, may they, with unfaltering hdeU fl
ity and with ever-increasing efficacy, teach our country and the
world that sublimest and most needful of all lessons, that Christ
Crucified is the power of God and the wisdom of God I

r904.J

The Early Bards of Ireland.

725

THE EARLY BARDS OF IRELAND.

BY ROBERT M. SILLARD.

•EW signs of the times are more grateful to the
lovers of Ireland than the general interest that
is being taken in the ancient music and songs of
that "land of song." From the earliest ages
historians tell us that the inhabitants of Ireland
were the most musical in the world. Its music is not only as
old as any ancient music that has come down to us, but it is
infinitely abundant. The origin of the poetry and music of
Ireland, like its ancient architectural remains, can be traced to
an oriental source. It is to the period of the Scotic or Mile-
sian dynasty that historians assign the institution of the bardic
order.

Tradition has it that Amergin, the younger brother of Heber
and Heremon, sons of Milesius, King of the Iberian Spaniards
(a people of Eastern origin), accompanied the leaders of these
early invaders of Ireland, about five hundred years before the
Christian era, in the capacity of poet and harper. To Amergin
was assigned the post of Arch-Druid and Ard-filea, or high-
priest and chief bard of the realm. Though the originals of
this bard's poems have been preserved^* they have never been
given an English dress. Their subject is chiefly a description
of the island as he saw it, sailing along the shores.

The time occupied in the education of the musicians and
bards in the Druidtc colleges was twelve years. Their native
tongue, extremely supple and melodious, formed the basis of a
lengthy special training. Their memory and ear were cultivated
in a phenomenal way. The musician had to know at least
three hundred and fifty airs before he was allowed to perform
in public, and had to be thoroughly acquainted with the end-
less resources of the Gaelic tongue. The period of probation
completed, the bards were admitted to all the honors of their
order. They wore the rich scarlet robes of kings, and took
first places amongst the princes. They received for their re-

• In '• The Bouk uf Lcinsler.' in Trinity College Library.

7^6

THE Early Bards of Ireland.

[Mar?

wards not merely cups and beakers of massive gold, but vast
estates also. It is said that the whole barony of Carbery, in
Cork, was once given to a singer as a fit reward for his skill
as a harpist. The harp, as is well known, is mentioned in all
old Irish documents. Its music is compared to the warbling of
song birds, and to the zephyrs blowing sweetly over stately
trees, in the song of Amergin.

At some unrecorded period a division took place in the
bardic office and duties. The order was divided into four
classes: the Fileas, or chief bards; the Brehons, whose duties
were legislative ; the Seanachies, whose functions were anti-
quarian and historical ; and the Orfadighs, or instrumental per-
formers.

The Fileas were the chief poets, and were in constant
attendance on the king, or chief. They accompanied the king
to the field of battle, surrounded by the instrumental musicians,
for the purpose of describing their feats in arms; and the
warrior king's highest hope was that, in returning triumphant,
his name might be immortalized amongst his fellow-men, and
enthroned in the fame of the bardic verse. In times of peace
they composed birthday odes, or chanted tales to the sound of
the harp.

The Brehons assisted in framing and promulgating the laws,
yvhich, at certain times, seated upon a commanding eminence,*
they recited aloud in brief, sententious rhymes which were
transmitted at first orally, and afterwards in writing by each
generation of bards to their successors. Up to the first century
of the Christian era the bards had the exclusive right of
expounding the laws and pronouncing judgments.

The reign of Ollamh Fodhla (b. c. 350), the twentieth of
the Milesian monarchs, formed an important era in the bardic
annals of the " Land of Song." This monarch was an illustri-
ous patron of letters and the arts. The most notable act of his
reign was the institution of the famous Fes, or National Con-
vention at Tara in Meath, the residence of the Ard-ri (the
"over-king"), or supreme monarch. This national assembly of
nobles and learned men met on the first of November every
three years for the threefold purpose of enacting laws» of veri-
fying the chronicles of the land, and of transcribing them into
the Psalter of Tara.

* This custom still cjdsts in the Isle of Man.

1904.] The Early Bards of Ireland. 727

The monarch's palace at Tara was famous for its music;
indeed, its name means the hall of music. Its glories have been
immortalized by Moore in his "Irish Melodies."

As we approach the dawn of the Christian era we find
several bards, some of whose .remains have been handed down
to us in grave historical treatises, many centuries old. This
period of Ireland's history has been rendered illustrious not
less in her annals than in song as the bright period

" When her kings, with banner of green unfurled.
Led the Red-Branch Knights to danger,
Ere the emerald gem of the western world
Was set in the crown of a stranger."

During the reign of Conary I., in the first century A. D.,
these Red-Branch Knights of Ulster became famous. Their
greatest commander was Cuculainn, the mightiest of all the
Irish heroes of antiquity, arid the finest of the romantic stories
in the " Book of Leinster," and other old Irish manuscripts,
have as their subject those Red- Branch Knights. One very
interesting poem is written on this hero of Cualnia by some
anonymous bard. From the language and idiom, it has been
pronounced by Gaelic scholars one of the oldest heroic poems
in the language. It is founded on a tale of unfortunate love
and female revenge ; and judging by the excellent poetical
translation of it by Miss Charlotte Brooke in her Reliques of
Irish Poetry (1789), the original must have been one of those
masterpieces which, by a few delicate strokes of nature and
sentiment, show us the soul of a hero oppressed with a weight
of woe, and stung to madness by the most poignant grief.

The reign of Cormac MacArt, the most illustrious of all
the pagan kings of Ireland, forms another brilliant period in
the annals. Among many important acts of his reign was the
founding of three colleges at Tara: one for the teaching of
law ; one for history and literature ; and the third for military
science. He also established a standing body of militia for the
defence of the throne, very like the Red -Branch Knights of an
earlier period. They were called the " Fena of Erin " • —
Fianna Eireann. Their most celebrated leader was King Cor-

* In peace these warriors numbered 9,000, in war ao.ooo In winter they lived in small
parties with the inhabitants of the country, while in summer they maintained themselves by
bunting, etc.

VOL. LXXVIII. — \^

728 The Early Bards of Ireland. [Mar.,

mac's son-in-law, Finn MacCool. The names of this hero and
his &ons, Oisin and Fergus, are intimately connected with Irish
song.

When Finn was on the point of being married to his first
wife, Grainne, she eloped with his friend Diarmuid. The wan-
derings of the lovers and Finn's pursuit formed a most fruitful
theme for the Fena romances. Diarmuid eventually met his
death from the thrust of a wild boar. Finn's arrival on the
scene before his rival's death is the subject of one of Sir
Samuel Ferguson's beautiful Lays of the Western Gael.

It appears that Finn was outshone by his son, Oisin, in
many accomplishments, especially poetry and music. One of
Oisin's poems, to be found in the "Book of Leinster," is
valuable as a record of the great battle of Gahhra (now called
Skreen, near Tara), which was fought A. D. 284. A perfect
and very accurate copy of this poem was published by the
Ossianic Society in the year 1854. Another poem by this
hero and bard (Oisin), preserved in the "Book of Leinster," is
of much greater extent than the first. Oisin himself fought at
Gahhra, where the Fenii power was entirely broken. He is
fabled after the battle to have been spirited away to Tir-na-Og
(the land of perpetual youth), and not to have appeared again
on earth until the days of St. Patrick. One of the Fenian lays
(published with a translation by the Ossianic Society in 1857) —
" The Lamentation of Oisin after the Fenians " — gives an ac-
count of his interview with the saint, his longings for the great
pagan past, his grief at the loss of his heroic Fenian com-
panions, and his contempt for Christianity and its professors.

To Oisin's brother^ Fergus, called " Fionbell," or the sweet-
voiced, fell the duty of chief bard to the Fenii. He is credited
with extraordinary power over the militia, who very often
were disturbed by the heart-burnings of the rival septs of their
respective leaders. There is a notable example of his persua-
sive eloquence exerted in evoking the halcyon of peace. On
one occasion, when a chief was at fault, and the contention for
precedence had assumed a serious aspect, and threatened such
consequences that the bards had to use their utmost authority
to soothe the chafed spirits of the chiefs, and pour oil upon
the troubled waters. To effect this, they shook the chain of
silence (a practical figure of rhetoric) and flung themstlves
among the ranks, extolling the sweets of peace, and the

1904.] The Early Bards of Ireland. 729

achievements of the combatants' ancestors. Immediately the
contending parties laid down their arms, listened with atten-
tion to the harmonious lays of their bards, and in the end
rewarded them with precious gifts. Fergus composed an ode
on this occasion, from which the following passage is taken :

" Hear, O Finn ! thy people's voice !
Trembling on our hills, we plead —
Oh, let our fears to peace incline thy choice.
Divide the spoil, and give the hero's meed !
For bright and various is his wide renown.
And war and science weave his glorious crown ! " •

Another interesting ode by Fergus, which survives through
Miss Brooke's translation of it, is a good specimen of the war
songs of these far-off days. It is addressed by the bard to
Osgur, the son of Oisin, on the occasion of the battle of
Gahhra. Osgur commanded and achieved incredible but fruit-
less feats of heroism with his little band of Fenian militia
against Cairbre, the supreme monarch of Ireland, who had
determined to crush out this celebrated legion, of which he had
long been jealous.

" Rise, might of Erin ! rise !
O Osgur of the generous soul !
, Now on the foe's astonish'd eyes
Let thy proud ensigns wave dismay !
Now let the thunder of thy battle roll,
And bear the palm of strength and victory away !

" Son of the sire whose stroke is fate.
Be thou in might supreme ;
Let conquest on thy aim await
In each conflicting hour ;
Slight let the force of adverse numbers seem,
Till o'er their prostrate ranks thy shouting squadrons pour \

" Oh, hear the voice of lofty song !
Obey the bard ! —
Stop — stop McGarai ! check his pride,
And rush resistless on each regal foe !

* Ode to Gaul, the son of Morni. Translation by Miss Brooke.

73Q THE EARLY BAUDS OF IRELAND. [Mar.,

Thin their proud ranks, and give the smoking tide

Of hostile blood to flow!
Mark where MacCormac pours along!

Rush on — retard
His haughty progress! Let thy might
Rise, in the dreadful fight,
O'er thy prime foe supreme.
And let the stream
Of valor flow,
Until the brandish'd sword
Shall humble ev'ry haughty foe,
And justice be restored.
Thine be the battle — thine the sway !
On, on to Cairbre hew thy conquering way.
And let thy deathful arm dash safety from his side !
As the proud wave, on whose broad back
The storm its burden heaves.
Drives on the scattered wreck,

Its ruin leaves ;
So let thy sweeping progress roll.
Fierce, resistless, rapid, strong;
Pour, -like the billow of the flood, o'erwhelming along!"

The last of the pagan bards was Torna. He was chief doc-
tor and arch -bard at the close of the fourth and the beginning
of the fifth century. He fostered Niall of the Nine Hostages —
one of the most accomplished and ambitious warriors of all the
Irish monarchs. Eugene O'Curry gives an interesting account
of such of Torna's poems as have come down to our day,
amongst the most valuable being one enumerating the great
men interred at Ratheroghan, County of Roscommon.

The introduction, in the early part of the fifth century, of
the light of Christianity to Ireland, far from proving prejudi-
cial to the pagan bards, only served to give a more exalted
direction to their powers; for the music of the bards had a
very powerful and controlling influence on the character and
impulses of the people, and the bards themselves were pre-
pared and attuned by the refining strains of their own sweet
music for the reception of the truth; they listened eagerly to
the inspired eloquence of the Apostle Patrick at Tara, were
the first to abandon Druidism, and spent the rest of their days

I904-]

THE Early bards of Ireland.

731

diffusing the more elevating faith. In fact, music was a pow-
erful agent in the conversion of the people, for as music
flowed into their ears, truth was distilled into their hearts. An
old Irish phrase, " Bocht an Eaglais bhios gan cheol " (the
church that has no music is poor indeed), aptly describes the
high esteem the use of music in divine service had already
attained. The old bards and the " files," or poets, became the
friends of St. Patrick, and put the Brehon laws into a metrical
form for him — " put a thread of poetry " round them — and
were wont to accompany him and his disciples on their apos-
tolic journeys, and literally sang their way into the hearts of
the Gael.

Two of the most celebrated bards of the next century —
the sixth — were Dalian Forgaill and Senchan. The composi-
tions of Dalian are continually referred to by Eugene O'Curry
in his work on the Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish ;
the best known is his elegy on the death of St. Columcille.
He died about A. D. 600, and was succeeded as chief poet of
Ireland by his pupil Senchan. He was a native of Connaught.
Of his poems his " Lament " over the dead body of Dalian is
the best known. How the spirit of the renowned chief, Fergus
McRoigh, is fabled to have revealed to Senchan's only son,
Murgen, the whole of the celebrated tale of the Tain Bo
Chuailgue (Cattle Spoil of Cuailgue) is beautifully told in Sir
Samuel F'erguson's "Tain Quest," one of the Lays of the
Western Gael.

From the natural fondness of the Irish for music, and the
great honors and privileges that were extended to (he bards,
their numbers swelled to such an extent that about this period
they comprised nearly a third of the male population. No one
had^ any control over them, and from being idolized by every
one, from the king to the peasant, they came at length to be
regarded as a crying national evil. Besides burdensome to
the state, because of their numbers, they had rendered them-
selves so odious to the nobility, whom they did not scruple to
lampoon, that they were three times requested by Aedh, son
of Ainmire, High King of all Ireland, to quit the country ; but
the province of Ulster defended them against the vengeance of
the other Irish. At length a convention was called at Drum-
ceat in Donegal, about the year 610, at which the momentous
question of their banishment was discussed, and only for the

732 The Early bards of Ireland. [Mar.,

timely arrival of Columcille from Scotland this would have
been decided upon. On the saint's proposition it was agreed
that the numbers of the bards should be reduced, so that every
high king should have his ard-ollamh, every provincial king
his own ollamh, and each great noble his own poet. The bards
were allowed a piece of land free, and were to be protected
from harm or damage to their person or goods. The con-
vention also passed a law as to the reward which the poets
were to receive for their poems, and were forbidden to ask or
take a greater.

Columcille was born with a love for the music of ancient
Erin, and greatly revered the old poets and musicians who sang
of the brave deeds of their kings and heroes. Previous to his
ordination and mission to the Hebrides, he studied poetry at
one of the bardic colleges in Clonard. Besides his well-known
Latin poems, eleven Irish poems have been preserved. The
best known of these are his " Lament for his Native Land,"
and his " Farewell to Aran," translated by Aubrey de Vere.

The reign of the illustrious Brian Boru served for a time
to check the devastation caused by the Danes and Norsemen
to the numerous institutions of learning scattered over the
island. Neither poet nor musician, said the historian Dr.
Keating, could follow his profession. The schools were broken
up, the bards slain, and for upwards of two hundred years the
people were so continually engaged in war and conflict that they
had little time or thought to give to music and poetry. But
when the invaders were routed the gentle sciences of life in
Ireland began to grow and blossom again. The schools, poets,
bards, learners and teachers, were multiplied again as of old.
Bereft of its illustrious monarch, Brian Boru, the kingdom con-
tinned for some years a prey to the spirit of internal discord.
Learning, which had greatly declined since the eighth century,
when the Danes made their first piratical incursions, had almost
disappeared, and with it, in a great measure, the spirit of song.

Though the poetical art languished, its twin sister, music,
was cultivated. Few writers have said harder things about the
ancient Irish and their manners and customs than Gerald De
Barry (" Giraldus Cambrensis "), who lived at the close of the
Norman invasion. Yet he praises in the highest terms the
musical gifts of the Irish. "This people," he writes, "deserves
to be praised for their successful cultivation of instrumental

I904 ]

THE EARLY Bards of Irelaad.

733

music, in whicti their skill is, beyond comparison, superior to
that of any nation we have seen. For their modulation is not
drawling and morose, like the instrumental music in Britain, but
the strains, while they are lively and rapid, are also sweet and
delightful. It is astonishing how the proportionate time of their
music is preserved, notwithstanding such impetuous rapidity of
the fingers."

Indeed, the music of Ireland was precisely one of the many
charms that acted so potently on the Norman English who
came into contact with the people. John of Salisbury, writing
in the twelfth century, says of the Irish : " The attention of
these people to musical instruments I find worthy of commenda-
tion." So too we find the Italian historian, Polydore Virgil, at
the end of the sixteenth century, loud in his praise of the skill,
the elegance, the accuracy, and rapidity of execution oi the
instrumental performers in Ireland. Well he might, for did not
Lord Bacon say also that " no harpe hath the sound so melt-
ing and prolonged as the Irish harpe."

The harp is peculiarly adapted to express the language of
song. No one who has heard it well played could be callous
to its charms. Notwithstanding the assertions of some Scottish
and English writers, the harp is indigenous to Ireland; purely
and simply, it has been the national musical instrument from
the dawn of Irish history. Some writers have asserted that
the Irish harp was a crude instrument of small compass and
incapable of any but commonplace effects. This is, as we
know, wholly disproved by many old harps in preservation,
Among the most historic is the harp of Brian Boru, which is
noted for its elegance of symmetry and artistic beauty. The
several old harps in preservation prove further that the Irish
makers of harps had a good knowledge of acoustics, for the
best authority, Dr. George Petrie, tells us that from 1622, when
the magnificent Dallway harp, which has fifty- two strings, was
constructed, back to the Anglo-Norman invasion in 1169, the
Irish bards were in possession of harps of sufficient power and
compass to produce those instrumental effects so highly eulo-
gized by Giraldus Cambrensis and other historians.

Strange to say, the power of Irish music was the cause of
its decay ; for during the reign of the Henrys and Elizabeth
the bardic spirit was largely extinguished in Ireland. We know
that Queen Elizabeth passed stringent laws against the bards.

734

The Early Bards of Ireland.

[Mar.,

In the year 1541 a law was made by a parliament assembled
in Limerick that " any person who shall make verses to any
one after God on earth except the king/* should have his
goods confiscated. A bard in those days would sometimes
receive about ;^300 for a poem from the nobles in the coun-
try. Almost every prince, noble, or great family had a special
bard employed to write poems in their praise. With the inde-
pendence of the northern chieftains in the middle of the seven-
teenth century were lost the castles and lordly homes where
the minstrels flourished. The occupation of the bards was
gone, and with it almost the sources of the world's loveliest
melodies all but died out. The soldiers of Cromwell and the
thrifty settlers sent over by the London trading companies
were not concerned with such things as poetry and music.

A famous Ulster poet named O'Guire, chief bard to the
O'Nials of Clanboy, about the year 1620, sang the following
lament on the downfall of the bards :

" Fall'n the land of learned men,
The bardic band is fallen ;
None now learn a song to sing,
For long our fern is fading.
Scant the schools made hearts to stir
In Ulster's land and Leinster,
Southward 'tis so, nine in ten,
From fine and foe have fallen,
Connacht, crafty forge of song,
Is also hurled headlong ;
Doom and gloom have hushed the heart,
For us no room, no rampart."

But the musical genius of the Irish could not be wholly
suppressed. "The charms of song," says Moore, "were
ennobled with the glories of martyrdom, and the laws against
the minstrels were as successful beyond doubt in making my
countrymen musicians as the penal laws have been in keeping
them Catholic."

In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries there were several
bards of note. Donough Mor O'Daly, lord abbot of Boyle
(**the Ovid of Ireland"); O'Cassidy, a learned historical poet;
O'Dun, bard to the Prince of Leinster; Conway, chief bard to

I904-]

The Early Bards of Ireland.

735

the O'Donnells of Tyrone; and Carol O'Daly (brother to the
poet abbot), the author of the beautiful song " Eileen Aroon,"
which contains more music in fewer notes than almost any
other lyric in existence. Handel is stated to have declared
that he would rather be the author of that simple air than of
all his grand oratorios.

During the fifteenth century few bards of any nole illumined
the annals of our country. The bards, as we have said, were a
proscribed race now, and the chiefs whose deeds it had once
been their pride to sing were fallen from their high estate, like
mighty oaks prostrated upon their hills by the strife of the
elements; the halls that had resounded to their song were
silent and deserted. But the spirit of Irish minstrelsy only
slumbered. The bards struck their harps in solitude, and in
plaintive strains mourned over the desolation of their loved
land, until the stirring events of the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries made those sons of song once more break forth into
extemporaneous rhapsody on the glories of their land, and call
on their countrymen to

"Burst the foreign yoke as their sires did of yore,
Or die like their sires, and endure it no more."

Among the principal bards of this period may be men-
tioned Teige MacDary, bard of the O'Briens of Thomond ;
O'Hussey, last hereditary bard of the Maguires of Fermanagh
(who, when a mere lad, celebrated in verse the escape of
Hugh Roe O'Donnell from Dublin Castle); Malmurry Ward,
one of the bards of the O'Neils and O'Donnells ; Owen Roe
Ward, who left us the beautiful ode on the death of the earls
of Tyrone and Tyrconnell (which has been so beautifully
turned into English verse by Clarence Mangan) ; Maurice
O'Dugan, the author and composer of "The Coolin"; and
Thomas O'Connellan, who united to the most unrivalled skill
on the harp high excellence as a poet. Many of his melodies
were introduced into Scotland, and have continued, under dif-
ferent titles, among the most popular airs of what has been
termed Scottish music. Of these may be mentioned "The
Battle of Killiecrankie " and the "Farewell to Lochaber" — the
original titles of which were " Planxty Davis " and the " Breach
of Aughrim."

Nearly all the poetical productions of this period were, of

736 THE Early Bards of Ireland. [Mar.

course, tinged with the political spirit of the limes. The two
principal Jacobite bards were John O'NeachtJin, of Meath, and
John Claragh MacDonnell, of Charleville. The numerous songs
termed Jacobite were originally party songs, deeply tinged with
prejudices. They were chiefiy written in a sort of allegorical
style ; and though the allusions were obvious to every one at
the time, they would require much explaining nowadays.
Some of these Jacobite songs are still remembered and sung in
Ireland, songs both of Irish and Scottish origin. The Irish
songs are more pathetic in words and melody, the Scotch the
more stirring and bold. The Irish bards used to clothe the
aspirations of the people for freedom in a figurative dress.
Erin, the goddess of the bards' worship, is often represented as
a beautiful maiden, who has fallen within the grasp of the
oppressor, — all the wealth of his language is expended in
praise of her charms, her constancy, her sufferings, and her
ancient glory. Her metaphorical names were many : " Roisin
Dhu," " Grainne U-aille," " Drimin Dhu," etc. ; in this dis-
guise the bards gave voice to their patriotic passion as if to an
earthly mistress. B

But all these bards must yield first place to Turlogh
O'CaroIan, the last of the famous minstrels — bards and harpers
— whose genius fired the souls of the Irish people in the past
centuries. This well-known harper was born in Nobber (County ■
Meath) in 1670, of humble parents. His education was con-
fined almost exclusively to the Irish language. The family of
the O'Conors of Belanagare interested themselves in directing H
and promoting the mental improvement of the youthful bard.
While still a youth he lost his sight during an attack of the
smallpox, which for ever deprived htm of the aid of books.
His harp then became his constant companion and solace ; and
in his twentieth year he commenced as a professional minstrel
by visiting the houses of the nobility and gentry throughout
the country. His great taste and feeling in music insured him
a hearty welcome in palace and cabin, where he was always
treated as a guest, as he maintained the dignity of his profes-
sion, and was above receiving any pecuniary remuneration. He
composed many beautiful airs, had a wonderful memory, and
extraordinary powers of improvisation. He was at once a
poet, a musician, a composer, and sung his own verses to his
harp. Goldsmith, in one of his charming essays, tells us that

I904-]

The Early Bards of Ireland.

being once at the house of an Irish nobleman, where there was

a musician present who was eminent in the profession, Carolan
immediately challenged him to a trial of skill. To carry the
jest forwardj the host persuaded the musician (Geminiani, a
famous Italian violinist) to accept the challenge, and he accord-
ingly played over on his fiddle the fifth " concerto " of Vivaldi.
Carolan, immediately taking up his harp, played over the whole
piece after him, without missing a note, though he had never
heard it before, which produced some surprise; but their aston-
ishment increased when he assured them he could make a
"concerto" in the same taste himself, which he instantly com-
posed.

Carolan's compositions are stated to have numbered in all
about two thousand. His muse delighted to expatiate on the
theme of female loveliness. The exigencies of space will only
allow me to give the names of a few of his beautiful lyrics of
this description ; so I must refer the reader to the Irarflalions
of them by Sir Samuel Ferguson, Miss Brooke, and to Hardi-
man's Jrisk Minstrelsy for " Bridget Cruise," " Mild Mabel
Kelly," "O'More's Fair Daughter, or the Hawk of Bailyshan-
non," his " Monody on the Death of his Wife," and " Grace
Nugent."

In 1733 Carolan was bereft of his wife, and five years later
he passed away at the age of sixty- eight. Feeling that his hours
were numbered, the blind bard called for his harp, and, in the
excitement of what he felt to be a final effort, produced his
" Farewell to Music," to which he gave an expression so cap-
tivating and touching as to dissolve all present in tears.

Much of his beautiful music is scattered to the four winds
of heaven. At intervals since 1 721 about two hundred of his
pieces have appeared. Bunting roughly estimates the entire
number at two thousand. Will the remainder of those priceless
gems ever be brought to light? Have we lost the key to these
ennobling strains? Will a day come when the Irish people will
cultivate once more their ancient music, as the Welsh are doing
at their Eistedfodds. and the Scots by their devotion to the
incomparable music of their Highlands ? All three have in com*
mon the spirit of the music that was sung before the Knights
of the Round Table, that roused the courage of Roderick Dhu
and Wallace, and fired with immortal bravery many an Irish
soldier on a thousand fields of battle.

738 THE Evolution of Potiphar. [Mar.,

THE EVOLUTION OF POTIPHAR.

BY GEORGINA PELL CURTIS.

SONSIEUR LE CLERE stood at the door of his
hotel in a Western mining town, bowing and
smiling as he watched Miss Mary Pendleton step
into the automobile awaiting her, and which was
to take her to Mass at the Catholic church some
five miles distant. Monsieur had placed his best at the young
lady's service ; the best of a town that had sprung up almost
in a day ; and that now possessed two hotels, automobiles,
electric cars, and all modern conveniences.

What chance had brought Miss Mary Pendleton, of Virginia,
to this far-off Western city that had only lately emerged from
being a frontier town ? Passing through the country twenty
years ago, some impulse of wisdom had induced her father to
buy up a large tract of land which for many years after his
purchase had been of no value, until some later discoveries
of mine operators proved that the Pendleton land covered
valuable subterranean riches. By that time Mr. Pendleton, who
had become a chronic invalid, could not leave home, and he
had no son to represent him. Here was an opportunity for the
display of characteristic American independence. Mary Pendle-
ton, on hearing of^the need, rose to the occasion.
" I will go," she said, " and attend to everything."
So, accompanied only by a maid, she had journeyed some
three thousand miles to the far-off mining city. What in a
European girl would have seemed outre, came simply and
naturally from the young American, who lost nothing of either
her dignity or maidenliness by the undertaking.

Reaching R the early part of the week, she had been

busily engaged ever since in seeing the men who were to work
the mines. The task before her looked formidable, and the
young girl began to fear it would necessitate her staying on the
scene for several weeks. Even with constant telegraphic com-
munication with her father, it seemed impossible that matters
would resolve themselves into regular working order inside of

1904.] The Evolution' OF POTiPHAR. 739

two months. The hotel, however, was comfortable, and the
consciousness of being of use to her father made Mary look at
the matter philosophically.

Monsieur had explained to Miss Pendleton, when she asked
for a carriage to drive to Mass, that the automobile was much
better. She could reach the church much more quickly, and
the chaffeur, an experienced man, had been a great deal on the
roads in France, and could be trusted.

It was a spring day of cloudless beauty when they started,
and soon the town, with its overhanging pall of gray smoke,
was left behind, and they were out on the smooth, hard road
that led to the mission three miles beyond. A quarter of a
mile further and the auto came to a sudden halt ; there was a
sound of muttered words above, and just as Miss Pendleton was
endeavoring to find out what was the matter, the man who
steers began to make a rapid descent, and in another moment
appeared in view.

" Beg pardon, mum," said the chaffeur, whose French had
a decidedly foreign idiom, " but Oim thinkin' the baste won't go
no further."

"I suppose I can walk," said Miss Pendleton, "but I shall
be late for Mass."

" Sorry indade, mum," was the answer, " but all the power
in the wurrld won't move the craythur till she's afther bein'
fixed."

Miss Pendleton decided to lose no more time in conversa-
tion, and alighted.

" I will send some one back as soon as I reach the mis-
sion," she said, — " some one who can go on to the city and
get a man to come to your assistance " ; saying which she
turned and commenced walking briskly up the road. SaVe for
the certainty of being late for the service the young girl would
have enjoyed the walk in the clear spring air. The sky,
uncontaminated by the smoke of the city, was blue and cloud-
less, the birds were singing, and everywhere trees and bushes
were bursting into bloom, making a scene of ideal loveli-
ness.

She was not destined to finish her walk, however; the
sound of carriage wheels coming rapidly from behind was
presently audible, and just as she drew to one side of the
road to get out of the way a light wagon passed by, and the

740 THE EVOLUTION OF POTIPHAR. [Mar.,

sole occupant, catching sight of Miss Pendleton, suddenly reined
in his horse. She glanced up, and recognized the young mine
operator with whom she had held her chief conference the past
week.

" You are in difficulties, Miss Pendleton," he said, as he
sprang lightly from his wagon and advanced, hat in hand. " I
have just passed a disabled auto, but I did not know it was
yours till I overtook you."

Mary, her fair face turned toward the speaker, the while
she still held up her dainty skirts, proceeded to explain mat-
ters to Mr. Barnes, who lost no time in proffering his services.

" I had started for a drive in the country," he said, " but
I shall be only too happy to take you to church, and then
drive you home. It will be a real pleasure. Miss Pendleton,
so don't hesitate to accept."

" I had not expected to have my difficulty so easily solved,"
answered Mary, adding a cordial thank you as he assisted her
into the wagon, and then sprang lightly after her.

" Did you notice what my chaffeur was doing as you passed
him ? " she queried.

" Sitting on a fence and smoking a pipe like a philosopher,"
he answered ; and she laughed.

" Monsieur Le Clere introduced him as a French chaffeur/'
she said ; " but that part of him which claims kinship with
Mr. Dooley seems to have some of the Dooley philosophy; a
Frenchman would have been storming all over the road at the
delay."

Mr. Barnes made some gay rejoinder, and conversation
flowed easily until, a mile further on, they came in sight of the
church, a long, low building of stone and brick, with a rec-
tory, convent, and orphanage near by.

Mr. Barnes had been telling Miss Pendleton of the heroic
work done by the priests and nuns of the Indian Mission.
" Father Giovanni, the head priest, is a splendid fellow/' he
said. "He is half Italian and half Indian, but born in this
country and educated entirely at the mission. He has shown
exceptional character and ability in every way. Besides, of
course, talking English, he speaks Italian, and the Indian
dialect common to the Indians of this region, so he can reach
all classes. It is wonderful the work he does."

They were at the church door by this time, where they

I904.1

The Evolution of Potiphar.

74*

found some men who promised to go back to the assistance
of the chaff eur. The half- defined question in Mary's mind as
to whether her companion intended accompanying her to Mass
was answered as he helped her to alight from the wagon.

" If you will wait one moment," he said, " I will take my
horse to the sheds, and join you again."

As he drove off she noticed, as she had done when she
first met him, the appearance of mingled intelligence, keenness,
and refinement that characterized him. Gifted with good
health and good looks, Mr. Barnes had long ago concluded
that the one drawback to his happiness was his name. For
what earthly reason had his paternal grandmother, who had
lived and died among the rugged Vermont hills, named him
Potiphar?

" It will help hira in his career in life," the old lady, who
was a great character, had said. " Name him John or Charles,
and he will never rise above the level; but Potiphar will do
great things."

Great things Potiphar had done in his youth. He had
smashed his grandmother's old china, a priceless heirloom. At
five years he had been discovered walking around the leads of
the house some fifty feet from the ground; and at eight years
he had been nearly drowned in trying to rescue a pet dog.
Having outgrown his childhood, he began to turn the energy
of his early years into other channels. At twenty-one, taking
his small capital, he had come West, and had prospered. Ver-
mont honesty combined with Western enterprise speedily made
him known and respected among his business confreres. As to
his religion, at the time of his meeting with Mary it may be
said to have been more a matter of temperament and heredity
than of choice and conviction. He had grown up with the
teaching of the Protestant catechism, and the services of the
white-walled Congregational Church ground into his every
fibre ; but like many of his kind a shaking-ofi of his environ-
ment had resulted in a corresponding cessation of church-
going. Sunday was not actually profaned ; but the West did
not hold the exact counterpart of the old-fashioned New Eng-
land meeting-house, so a late bath and shave, a drive, and the
perusal of the papers was his usual Sunday routine.

Not much given to moralizing, the young man nevertheless
mused on his way back to the church at the faithfulness of the

742

The evolution of Potiphar.

[Mar.,

average Catholic, no matter how far from home, in attending
Mass; and then his mind wandered to the grandmother only
lately dead, and her controlling influence over all her family.

"What would she say if she could see me now?" he thought,
remembering the old lady's horror of Popery, and her denun-
ciation of the Catholic Church in her native town, that was
chiefly attended by French immigrants from Canada.

Entering a Catholic church for the first time in his life, he
was struck by the simplicity of the service. They were near
enough to the altar for him to understand and follow the
words of the priest, a clear, mellow voice being one of Father
Giovanni's chief attractions. The priest took his text from
Romans: "For I reckon that the sufTerings of this time are
nol worthy to be compared with the giory to come."

His words were simple, direct, forcible; rising at times al-
most to eloquence. While paying strict attention to the ser-
noOt Potiphar found himself at times wondering if some inheri-
tance of native, rude but eloquent flow of language had not
descended to the young priest from his Indian ancestors. So
tone brave, he thought, might have held forth in a council of
war. Something of all this he expressed to Mary as they were
driving home.

"It is * strange evolution," she said; "two hundred years
igO 1 tribe of savages, and now one of their descendants a
pHtat of the church."

** Wonderful," he answered. " And with all his education Father
Giovanni understands these Indians and how to deal with them."
They had reached the hotel by this time, where Potiphar
bnUe hli young companion a courteous farewell; but this was
the beginning of an intimacy that extended through many
Wt*k«t subsequent events keeping Mary near the mines for a
|ier(ud of nearly six months.

On« October morning, four months later, Potiphar sat in
hii oWce near the mine entrance in deep thought. Outside
the air was chill and raw. inside a bright fire glowed in an
vui»u Kranklin stove, offering a cheery contrast to the gloomy
sliUs overhead, A tap at the door aroused him from his medi-
Ut(ont, aiul he arose as the door opened to admit Miss Pen-
<ll«>luM, who entered hastily, her manner showing evident per-

\
I

I904.]

THE EVOLUTION OF POTIPHAR.

743

*'Is it true, what I hear," she said, "that the men in the
mines, with one consent, have gone on strike ?"

** Unfortunately, yes," he answered, " they all went ouf last
night : and no amount of arguing or talking will move them.
They want eight hours a day and almost double pay, though
as it is they have fewer hours and better pay than any other
miners in the world. 1 was just trying to solve the problem,
and think what step to take, when you entered."

"It is most distressing," she said, real concern in her voice,
" and everything was going so well. Now the work may come
to a standstill indefinitely,"

"No," he replied; "I shall give the men a week to return
to work on the old terms. At the end of that time, if they
will not begin to mine again, I shall send to Butte, or else-
where, for fresh relays of men." There was determination in
Potiphar's voice, quiet resolution in his manner. Whatever the
outcome of the strike, the young manager was not going to
be easily defeated.

"The same thing has been tried before," said Mary, "but
with little success; riot and bloodshed are always sure to follow."

"We may have some disturbance," answered the young
manager guardedly, " but the men will have to give in, in the
end. Meanwhile the mayor has assured me we shall have all
the protection we need, and the governor has telegraphed to
the same effect."

Knowing well the nature of a stubborn strike, Mary was
not easily deceived; but she recognized the desire on the part
of her father's manager to spare her unnecessary worry ; so she
presently arose, saying: "I suppose there is nothing we can
do for the next day or two; but you will let me know if any
change occurs."

" Most assuredly," he answered, as he held the door open
for her to pass out. He stood for a moment, watching her
graceful figure as she passed up the street, then returned to his
desk and commenced writing rapidly. At twelve he locked the
office and went home to dinner, where he was waited on later
in the day by a delegation from the strikers. Finding the
young manager still immovable, they withdrew after an hour's
excited talk ; evidently the boss would not yield.

Potiphar returned to his office, and in the evening had a
long interview with some of the chief men of the town. One

VOL. LXXVIII, — 48

744

The Evolution of Potiphar.

[Mai

and all agreed with him that to hold out against the demands
of the men, and eventually engage new hands if need be, was
the' only course. The governor, who was present, promised
State aid in protecting the men who took the place of the strikers.

It was on a dark night, one week later, that several masked
figures stood at the entrance to the mine preparing to descend.
Foiled in their attempts to compel the manager to grant them
higher wages, the men had seen others take their place and
receive such strict police protection that it was impossible to
do them any injury. Therefore they had agreed on the
desperate plan of firing the mine and so wrecking it that it
would be some time at least before work could be resumed.

The men worked swiftly and silently until they had all
entered the car and lowered themselves to the bottom of the
shaft, when they proceeded some distance touard the interior of
the mine, guided by the light of a shaded lantern. It soon
became apparent what their plan u'as, namely, to place a
quantity of dynamite where it would cause the worst possible
wreck; and then light a fuse, and escape to the car that had
brought them to the bottom of the shaft, ascending in it before
the lighted fuse had time to reach the dynamite. When all
was ready one dark figure held the lantern aloft while anoihtr
applied a match to the fuse. A second later and the men were
fiying through the mine toward the shaft. According to their
calculation it would take twenty minutes for the fu«e to burn
and reach the explosive, giving them ample time to reach the
open air and disperse. One thing the men had not reckoned
on : the chance of any one save themselves being abroad near
the mines that night.

Swiftly they ran through the darkened chambers out of
which the shining ore had already been removed, until the fore-
most one reached the bottom of the shaft, and even as he did
so those behind heard a shout, followed by groans and curses.
A second later they, too, reached the spot to see the dark
figure of their companion dancing wildly around ; and then
the reason for his frenzy reached their own bewildered con-
sciousness — the car was gone !

How and why ? Even as they asked each other, tearing
ofif their masks and gazing upward with pale, distorted faces,
came the thought — the dynamite, the fuse ! There was no time

1904.] • THE EVOLUTION OF POTIPHAR. 745

to go back and put out the slowly burning cotton, no means
of getting away. They were caught in their own net; death,
hideous and awful, awaited them.

The leader continued to curse. He it was who had been
the moving spirit of the strike, who had urged the others not
to give in. They were not bad men as a whole — the partici-
pants of such a social revolt seldom are — but led away by
some of the stronger spirits, incited by having their real or
imaginary wrongs dwelt upon; the majority of such men wou!d
live in peace and contentment under the right leadership.

" Boys," said a fair-haired young fellow, known as " Harry,"
" it 's no use for us to curse and swear ; in ten minutes more
the dynamite will explode, and meanwhile I reckon we better
make our peace with God."

" Ay," said one or two voices eagerly ; and then gruffly,
and half as if ashamed, one of them said : " You pray for us,
Harry."

Black Dan, the leader, started up off the ground, where he
had thrown himself, with something that sounded like a mingled
curse and groan; then with a cry that some of those present
never forgot, he rushed back into the mine, right in the direc-
tion of the burning- fuse. It was very near the dynamite now.

It was Potiphar who had drawn the car to the surface of
the shaft, while the men were attending to placing the dyna-
mite. Unable to rest that night, and suspecting trouble, from
a vague rumor that filled the air, he had made his way to the
mines. Meeting on his way Father Giovanni, the two men,
who had become tolerably well acquainted, started out of the
city together. Why the car was at the bottom of the shaft
they could not imagine, yet neither of them thought of any
men being below in the mines at that time of night. Hence
they had worked together at the windlass until the car appeared
in sight, when they fastened it, and commenced walking away.

" It seems quiet," said Father Giovanni. " I doubt if any
of the men are abroad to-night. I have been to-day to see
several of them who belong to my parish, to try and Induce
them to go back to work."

" I think they would all go soon enough," answered the
young manager, " were it not for Black Dan, the leader. He
has immense power over them, and they follow him to a. xxv^w."

746 The Evolution of potiphar. ' [Mar.,

" Dan's old mother is heart-broken over the whole busi-
ness/' said the priest. " I have tried in vain to talk to him ;
some higher power alone can break the will of the man."

"The outlook is gloomy enough," said Potiphar. He was
fess hopeful, though not one whit less resolute than a week
ago. "We must conquer in the end, however, even if the
mine blows up 1 "

He had hardly spoken when there came the sound of a
terrific explosion underfoot; the ground seemed to vibrate as
in an earthquake, and the hitherto silent mines became alive
with a thousand terrible possibilities.

It took only an instant for the two men to understand;
each broke into a swift run, while from every quarter others,
women as well as men, began flying toward the same point.
It seemed an eternity, yet it was in reality only five or six
minutes, when they reached the mouth of the shaft. A hun-
dred excited men and women, who had evidently not been to
bed, and whose number was constantly increasing, crowded
around the car, drawing back for a moment as the priest and
the young manager drew near and were recognized.

Potiphar sprang toward the car and stepped in.

"I am going down," he said; "are there any who will go
with roe ? "

" I will," answered Father Giovanni ; " and I," chimed in
several voices.

"Thank you, my men," answered Potiphar; "we can't all
go"; and then he picked out four stalwart men, when a voice
irried: "Hold, you will need me"; and the men cheered as
they recognized Dr. Dale, a rising young surgeon from the
town. Swiftly the car descended, carrying the seven men who
had taken their lives in their hands. There would be work
for them, and they knew it ; but little thought they of their
own danger.

The terrible explosion had been heard all over the city.
Distracted with anxiety when she learned the cause, Mary
Pendleton had dressed hastily and, accompanied by her maid,
had been driven to the scene of the disaster. She arrived just
as the dead and wounded miners were being brought up. The
living were placed in ambulances and driven rapidly to the
«ity hospital. Then there was a short pause, and the car

1904-]

The Evolution of potiphar.

747

began to ascend again, bringing the intrepid seven who had
gone to the stricken men's relief. Now the car has reached
the top, the surgeon springs out, covered with grime and
coal-dust, and with a cry Mary sprang forward as she saw
them lift out a silent, inanimate lorm, which she recognized as
Potiphar.

" Stand aside/' said the surgeon to the crowd that was
closing in on them, and then he and Father Giovanni bore
the young man to a waiting stretcher and lifted him in the
ambulance.

" Yes, she could go to the hospital," the surgeon said, in
answer to her entreaty ; and then she learned that all the
miners but one had been found in the first chamber near the
bottom of the shaft ; some dead, others dangerously injured ;
the concussion having been so terrible that it had loosened
enormous masses of rock, even at that distance from the
dynamite.

The priest and surgeon had knelt down, doing all in their
power for both soul and body, until one of the men said :

" Dan, he 's further in the mine."

Without an instant's hesitation the young manager had
started in search of him, undeterred by the knowledge that the
mine was on fire, and that there was danger from coal damp.

Fortunately he had not far to go ; picking his way through
rock and debris, he had stumbled upon Dan's dead body;
alone and unaided he had lifted the man, who had been shock-
ingly mutilated, and carried him until he had himself stumbled
and fallen, striking his head on some projecting rock. Here he
had lain insensible until Father Giovanni, becoming alarmtd,
had sent two of his volunteers in search of him. There was a
bad cut on the head. Dr. Dale said, but he hoped Mr. Barnes
was not dangerously hurt; everything possible would be done
at the hospital.

Two months later and a man and a woman are driving
along the same road toward the mission, over which they had
travelled at the beginning of their acquaintance.

It is a clear, sunshiny day in December, and as they drove
they talked earnestly. We will let them tell the tale in their
I own way :
I "To think you are now my wife!" said Potiphar.

74«

THE Evolution of Potiphar.

[Mar.

"And to think you are a Catholic!" said Mary; "that is
the most wonderful part of it. You have never told me how
it came about," she added. " When you requested to be bap-
tized, Dr. Dale said you must have your own way, and that
no one must ask you any questions. Even after you were
up and about, he advised me not to agitate you in any way ;
so I have waited."

"It was Father Giovanni/' said Potiphar. "When we
reached the mine there were those poor fellows, some dead,
others in such mortal agony ; and he knelt down by them
and soothed and talked to them, and got them all to make
a confession; and then like a flash I remembered the words
of his sermon, where he said that the suffering of this present
time was not worthy to compare with the glory that should
be revealed. What had seemed far off and vague then, be-
came intensely real and dramatic in the face of those poor
fellows' terrible suffering. And then when one of them, a young
fellow named Harry, died before we could get him out of
the mine, I was so impressed by the beautiful office for a soul
departing which Father Giovanni -read. It seemed to me that
here alone was the true religion to lead men, even the black-
est, through the paths of pity and pardon, to God; then %hcn
I lay in the hospital," he continued, " the priest visited me,
and as I grew stronger we talked together. There is nothing
in the world," he concluded, " that can so soon convert a
man to the Catholic Church as to get in touch with it, and
come in daily contact with its inner working."

"And I," said Mary shyly. — "how did I -come to marry
you so far from home ? Well, at first the surgeons thought
your chances for recovery were slight; and when you came
to, after being unconscious for two days, and asked me to
marry you then and there, why we decided it was better to
let you have your own way to quiet you; so I telegraphed
my father, and he consented. I knew I loved you," she
added, raising her beautiful eyes to his, " when I heard you
were in the mine in such peril."

" And so you married me without any wedding bells or
bridesmaids," he said, " and in spite of my name being
Potiphar "; and then he laughed. "There is not much idealism
about a fellow with such a name," he concluded.

"I.ove," said Mary, " makes the ideal."

'HE discovery of a portrait of Dante, among the
Elect, in Orcagna's great fresco of Paradise^
opens up a new chapter in Dantesque iconog-
raphy. This discovery of Signor Alessandro
Chiappelli, in the Strozzi Chapel of the Church
of Santa Maria Novella, at Florence, has revived the arguments
adduced, some few years ago, by M. Jacques Mesnil/ regard-
ing another figure whose uplifted face appears, to him, to
represent Dante among the group of the redeemed, on the
right hand of our Lord in the Last Judgment, of Orcagna, in

* Ztiittkrift fiir hiUtHdt KMnst , September. I900.

7SO

The Portraits of Dante.

[Mar.,

that same Strozzi Chapel, of the Dominican church which
Michael Angelo styled his " mystic spouse."

If the identity of either of these two figures can be demon-
strated beyond serious question, a special value attaches to
such a discovery, from the fact that, while in the chapel of
the palace of the Podesta of Florence (the Bargello) we have
the Gioltesque portrait of Dante, yet young and full of the
idMft of the "Vita Nuova," in the Strozzi Chapel we behold
the Dante whose vision of Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise has
giv«ll to the Orcagna brothers their inspiration and to future
migrations a heritage of immortal verse.

When we recall the fact that Orcagna, more than any other
follower of Giotto, perpetuated in his woik the Giottesque tra-
dilioa of portraying, in his great wall pictures, portraiture of
portonages of his own time and of preceding generations, it is
itrange that no sustained and comprehensive effort has ever
been made to identify these figures of Orcagna's, the wonder-
ful beauty of whose faces, "profile afier profile laid together,"
aret as Symonds justly says, " like lilies in a garden border."

The value of Giottesque contributions to contemporary por
traiture, in the frescoes on the chape! wails of the palace of
ihe podesta, has been sadly impaired by material injury of past
alio*, indifference and neglect. Here, we know, Giotto, or his
(luplU (probably the master himself), depicted many familiar
facet of contemporaries of Dante's Florentine life, but the great
groups left us by the Orcagnas present a more advantageous
(ieWI of observation from their more perfect preservation and
their greacer relative completeness, in spite of unskilful
'* restoration."

Painters of the Giottesque school were imbued with the
•ame thoughts, religious and political preoccupations, as the
writert of an age that begot the art and literature of succeed-
ing centuries. In the domain of art it was the immortal mis-
llon of Giotto, and his followers in Florence, as of Duccio and
hU iuccessors in Siena, to spread out before the eyes of mul-
titudes, more or less unlettered, the whole body of Christian
4numa, or of special truths, in great scenic paintings, on
I hapol walls or altar reredos, and in marked departure from
the tttiltcd conventionalifm of Byzantine traditions.

All that knowledge of God, which is eternal life, was soon
tQ i)» yatheredt almost throughout Italy, not alone from

I904.]

The Portraits of Dante.

751

I
I

priestly words of instruction and admonition, but also through
the new art of that day, which conveyed, to all, vivid por-
trayals of the history of man's redemption, of his purpose here
and his destiny hereafter. The art of the later middle ages
may rightly be regarded as a powerful instrument of God to
teach men their origin and end. The artist reached the popu-
lace, 'as the writer did not, in an age when books were scarce,
and, in fact, so little did scholars think or care for the masses,
that Dante hesitated a long while before deciding to write his
vision in Italian, Latin being considered the most fitting
medium of expression for cultivated men of the time.

The "Divine Comedy" is all the more remarkable as first
embodying in vernacuJar literature the themes that absorbed
the minds of thinking men in the last decades of the mediaeval
period. As an outcome of fierce rivalries, private feuds, fac-
tional and bloody struggles, men's minds were ever conscious
of the awful certainty of death and of the life beyond the
grave. What was to be the end of strife and contention, of
ruthless ambition and unscrupulous endeavor? Death and the
judgment, hell and heaven, were stern realities, ever staring
men in the face. The great day of account seemed " nigher
still and still more nigh," and if many did not show forth that
fact by mending their ways, it was largely because they had
become callous and blunted by constant familiarity with an
untimely fate, so likely for every one. Art, more than litera-
ture, reflected the great preoccupations of the time, but to
these dominant ideas we owe the vision of Dante and the
frescoes of Nardo and Andrea Orcagna, in which we now seem
to find a new chapter in Dantesque iconography.

Whoever ascends the antique stone steps, leading from the
transept of the Church of Santa Maria Novella into the Strozzi
Chapel, finds himself, as Signer Chtappelli justly observes,
" wrapt in the atmosphere of the full fourteenth century." In
the azure and starry dome, St. Thomas Aquinas, the Angel of
the Schools, personifies the cardinal virtues. The decoration,
or adornment, of this Strozzi Chapel was dedicated to St.
Thomas Aquinas by the donor, Tommaso di Rossello Strozzi,
who bore his name. Signor Alessandro Chiappelli has indi-
cated • the early and long association of the name and works
of Dante with this glorification of St. Thomas, the hero and

• // Marxecco, of Florence, for December 98, Z90S.

752 THE PORTRAITS OF DANTE. [Mar..

founder of scholasticism, and he instances, in that connection,
the inscription placed near the tomb of Alessandro degli
Strozzi (deceased in 1384), which inscription reads:

D. THOMAE ECCLESIAE DOCTORI ANGELICO

SACELLUM HOC EXIMIA TABLLA ARAE SUPPOSITA

ABSIOE ET PARIETIBUS PICTIS AB ANDREA

CIONIS, FIL. COGNOMKNTO ORCAGNA

QiM niVINUM DANTIS INVEN'TL'M IN HIS EXI'RESSIT

IXSIGNE AC VENERANDUM

STROZIA <";ENS QUAE ROSSOMUGERI FIL.

fATRlClL'M FLOR. PROPAGATOREM HABET

IXEfNTE SAECULO XIV DEDICAVIT.

Ik ll low reasonably certain that Dante was among the
M«^ftHr ^npiU admitted to the great Dominican school of Santa
)t4lK« XowUa. and it is quite natural to suppose the Domini-
^mH. \IMUlcl like to preserve the efBgy, or some species of por-
Higtt^C% oi their famous pupil in such form as would not be
VMl ^ harmony with purely religious and ecclesiastical sur-
C^MMkcKlkKt. In the article in // Marsocco, from which I have
ijlltldy quoted, Chiappelli demonstrates, I think, with sufficient
■tM<M« the directing influence of a man of letters and theologian
iXk gliding and counselling the Orcagnas in the grouping of
\\\v*^ frescoes in ihe Strozxi Chapel, where the disposition of
\lu' colostial hierarchy betrays a profound knowledge of hagi-
oKinphy.

Thi* adviser could certainly have been no other than the
|ir(or of the Dominican convent attached to this Church of
SrtMtrt Maria Novella, Fra Jacopo Passa.vanti, whose active share
ill ilM interior decoration has been too fully shown by Mr.
VVixmI Hrown, in his recent work,* to need further mention
hrre. Now, this Fra Fassavanti had studied in Paris at the
•Mint: school as Dante's probable master, Fra Remigio Girolami,
|i) wlium, as Chiappelli observes, the memory of the studies and
ihfKjIoificrtl disputations sustained by the Florentine poet, in the
linminican school not so many years before, must still have
Imcn very vivid.

In this Strozzi Chapel every student of art and poetry can
(i.llow, in Nardo Orcagna's fresco of Hell, the topography of
|J4(ile'» Inferno, as the poet's lurid imagery has mapped out

• T/t* Jiamtmkan Church ofSanUt Maria Novella, Edinburgh, 1902.

PoxTRAtT OF Dante, AccoRUiNC lo Mesnil, in the "Last Judgment" of Orcacna.

its divisions and its eternal pains and penalties. Vasari testi-
fies to the profound study given by Andrea Orcagna to the
" Divine Comedy," which his brother has sought to convey to
the eye in its more dreadful images of those without hope.
The glorification of Dante's verses, in the Florence that exited
him, but which he loved, in life and in death ; the posthumous
honor then accorded him in other places ; the knowledge of
his rhymes shown by the Orcagna brothers, added to their
adherence to the Giottesque tradition of contemporary portrai-
ture, all point to these great wall pictures, in the Stro2zi
Chapel, as the place of all others in which to seek the face
and figure of the poet of alt time.

The Giottesque frescoes in the chapel of the Florentine
palace of the podesta, although attributed by some to pupils of

754 Tfi^ Portraits of Dante. [Mar.,

Giotto, were probably executed by the master himself, in the
later years of his life. Dante is there to be seen in the sadly
damaged fresco of Paradise, discovered in 1S40, and subse-
quently restored, when the whitewash, by which it was over-
laden, was removed. The famous mask, commonly called, in
former times, the death mask of Dante, has occasioned much
discussion. Signer Ricci has attacked its authenticity. Mon-
sieur Mcsnil declares it to be generally admitted, to-day, that
it was made in the fifteenth century. On the other hand,
Signor Chiappelli evidently believes in its genuineness, and his
faith is shared by Mr. Toynbee.* The face carved in wood,
and now preserved in the Gallery of the Uffizi, at Florence,
and the famous bronze bust of Dante^ in the Museo Nazionale,
at Naples, are both said to have been founded upon the noted
mask. The Neapolitan bust is of uncertain date, though vari-
ously attributed to the fifteenth or sixteenth century.

The portrait of Dante in the Codex Palatinus is believed,
by some writers, to date from the fourteenth century, and, by
others, it is thought to be of the fifteenth. Herr Kraus has
recently afi^rmed the genuineness of the Dante portrait in the ■
Codex Riccardiano, of which I shall presently speak more at
length. The portrait of Dante, made for the Villa Pandolfini
by Andrea del Castagno, was executed about one hundred
years after the poet's death. The picture of Domenico di
Michelino is of a. D. 1465. The Dante of the Signorelli fres-
coes, at Orvieto, is of the year 1500. Raphael's portraits of
Dante in the Vatican are well known to every visitor to Rome.
Excluding from my statement the portrait by Giotto of Dante,
pictured as still young, these other, varied, types of Dantesque
portraiture do not present entire uniformity of face and figure,
yet there are certain charactetistics common to all of them — fl
or nearly all — that have gradually led to an artistic tradition of
an accepted type. This conventional physiognomy, long trans-
mitted without study of Boccaccio's description (gathered frrra
Dante's relatives and contemporaries), has been carried by
modern artists to a degree of gauntness and weird emaciation
but little removed from caricature.

While artists have thus portrayed the poet as a decrepit,
though fierce, spectre of death and the judgment, realistic
illustrators of the Inferno have much more intimately asso-

* Tojrnbee'i Lift »f D*mtt, Ix>iuIon, 1900.

1904] The Portraits OF Dante. 755

r -ciated him in the popular imagination with lurid pictures of the
tortures of the damned than with any poetical conception of
the Joys of Paradise. Not only are these traditional features
and tall, gaunt figure very unlike the real Dante, but this
impression of a mind ever haunted by the worm that dieth not

I and the fire that is not quenched strangely distorts the habitual
thoughts and aspirations of a singer who relied upon his third
" Cantico " (of Paradise) to establish his claim to a poet's
laurels and even, by it, also to the crown of final and everlast-
ing beatitude.

Dante's words of self-accusation, and the reproaches addressed
to him by Beatrice, are variously interpreted as betraying a
temporary religious indifference, through absorption in philo-
sophical studies, or to worse derelictions. In any case, his
temporary wanderings, from whatever standard of high aspira-
tion, or holy living, were either unknown to, or forgiven by
his contemporaries. There is no historic evidence to sustain
the fantastic and libellous conceit of the unhealthy French play
which many admirers of Sir Henry Irving have viewed, with
regret, on the English or American stage. For twenty years
Dante was an exile from Florence, where his wife and six
■children remained, his wife's family belonging to the political
faction which had exiled the poet, and there is no reason to
suppose that any other than political or financial reasons
■enforced this separation or prolonged it.

A sonnet attributed (perhaps erroneously) to Pietro de
Faytinelli, but written just after Dante's death, reads :

" Oh gentle spirit, oh true Dante
Veritably in the flesh beholding »

That glory, whither hath now gone forth
Thy holy soul, this day departed
From the misery of this wandering throng ;
To thee whom, mindful of thy faith and thy great virtue,
I firmly hold to be at foot of true Omnipotence,
Do I commend myself, etc."

■ An unknown poet of the same period, abridging the descrip-

" tion of the Dantesque features, given by Boccaccio, terminates
a sonnet with the following lines ;

756

THE PORTRAITS OF DANTE.

[Mar.

' And of virtue he had so much

That the body, at death, merited the crown poetical.
And the soul went onward to the better life."

Boccaccio closed his " Prosopopea di Dante " with th<
words : " Ravenna has the body, and the Almighty Father the
soul." Indeed, before there was any general or widespread
knowledge of Dante's Paradiso, or third part of the "Divine
Comedy," the Venetian Giovanni Quirini declared, in a sonntt,
thttt " from the beautiful flowers of Paradise, Dante, in the
uther life already gathered the merited fruit."

Certainly these tributes, spontaneously given to Dante, after
hia death, by eminent contemporaries, represent the general
jtid^jment of the man (quite as much as of the poet) formed
l»y cultivated men of his time, uninfluenced by factional feel-
ing of any kind. They reflect the universal impression of his
character and the distinctive characteristics of his mind and
temperament. Detached from the things of this world and
weaned from the allurements of passion and of pleasure, by
profound meditation on their ultimate end and outcome, in
Purgatory and in Hell, Dante bent his whole soul and all his
mental energies to the portrayal of that heavenly beatitude to
which he hoped to attain. An honorable ambition led him to
seek, by that portrayal, the poet's laurel wreath, only as a
stepping-stone, however, to an eternal crown in Heaven.

Deep students of Dante as both the Orcagnas undoubtedly
were, they would naturally place the author of the Paradiso in the
Paradise of the just made perfect, but, following the Giottesque
tradition, in human companionship, allowing the admission of
their own living contemporaries. Strange that the two walls of
the Strozzi Chapel, presenting scenic representations of the Judg-
ment and of Paradise, should so long have remained a neglected
field of observation for anything of the kind. In an article of
1857, to which Professor Pasquale Papa has recently called
attention, Mr. Barlow announced his discovery of an " other
portrait of Dante *' which he described as " painted by Orcagna
in the Paradise of the Strozzi Chapel, in the upper part of the
wall to the left of the window." This announcement of Barlow's
was made about seven years after the restoration of the redis-
covered Giottesque portrait in the chapel of the Florentine
palace of the podesta, painted as Giotto first knew Dante, in

I
I

I904.]

The Portraits of Dante.

757

the days of his early enthusiasms, but, even in that guise,
placed in Paradise. Later in the nineteenth century, Ingo
Kraus and M. Jules Levallois have noticed the same face and
figure in the Strozzi Chapel, but the allusions of some, or all of
them, would seem to show a confusion of the Last Judgment,
in which their Dante appears, with the Heaven of the just.
Herr Volkmann vaguely alludes* to a discovery of "Dante
among the Blessed," executed by Orcagna, but his lack of pre-
cision has led to uncertainty as to whether he meant the
alleged Dante in the Last Judgment, or the Paradise of
Orcagna.

In I goo M, Jacques Mesnil, in an article already named,
and, more recently, in another contribution f to the literature
of the subject, has clearly traced the points of resemblance, in
this figure in Orcagna s Last Judgment, to the face and features
of Dante as perpetuated by artistic tradition. The characteris-
tics common to nearly all of these successive reproductions are
summarized by M. Mesnil as follows :

" The features are vigorously marked, the bony framework
visible, the jaws strong, the countenance elongated, the fore-
head high, the chin well drawn and energetic, the upper lip a
little effaced, the lower lip stronger and slightly protruding ;
but the nose above all is typical, and it has not been cleariy
characterized by saying that it is aquiline : it is large and it
presents a swelling well defined above the middle" (or bridge);
"from there, even to the extremity, its line is straight, or pre-
sents a light concavity ; finally, the point descends notably,
lower than the insertion of the nostrils. This nose is quite
peculiar" (or individual).

The figure signalled by M. Mesnil, presumably the same as
that noticed by Barlow and others I have named, is in the group
of the elect, in the Last Judgment, of the Orcagnas, or of Nardo
Orcagna, if executed by him alone, as some think. This figure
stands in the highest row of those depicted without the nimbus,
or halo of sanctity. The face, certainly, has many of those
features that have become traditional and typical of Dantesque
portraiture, and it does show considerable resemblance to the
Neapolitan bust of the poet, as seen in profile. In the figure
he has indicated in the fresco of the Last Judgment, M. Mesnil
thinks to explain the absence of that most prominent character-

• U^tagrafitt Daiittiia. \ Siiictltania i' Artt^ February, I903; pub, FlorcHcr.

758 The Portraits of Dante. [Mar.,

istic of the face of Dante, the projection of the lower lip (here
lacking)^ by the plea that ill-advised and clumsily executed
restorations have overladen the original work and altered the
primitive contour, particularly in the lower part of the figure.

The figure appears clothed in a robe common to magistrates
of that time and of a roseate, or reddish color; the head wears
the hood appropriate to the garment, and the face is uplifted
towards Christ, the Eternal Judge above, to the right of the
observcTj in the heights of Heaven, In meeting objections to
the position, of this alleged Dante, before our Lord as Judge,
M. Mesnil maintains that Dante's attitude is one of adoration,
not of supplication ; that he stands among those whose salvation
is already announced, and that immediately above him is a row
of saints. Certainly, the face bears the impress of ecstatic
adoration, while the joined hands are pleadingly upraised as in
a gesture of prayerful petition. The face and figure are rather
more aged than would be expected in a representation of Dante,
notably more so than the Dante believed to have been identified
by Signor Chiappelli, in the Paradise, of this chapel, which I
shall presently describe.

Allowing the Dante of the Last Judgment to be allegori-
cally shown still afar off and yearning for the beatific vision,
this condition is not out of harmony with the poetic concep-
tion of Antonio Pucci, a contemporary of Orcagna, who, in a
chapter of his Centihqttio, in honor of Dante, supposes the poet,
as in the natural order of things, to be in Purgatory and
prays our Saviour to draw him out, and he beseeches the
Blessed Virgin and the saints to intercede to that end, since
Dante, he declared, was worthy of Heaven. M. Mesnil, how-
ever, considers that Dante, in this scene of the final Judgment,
already stands among the just made perfect, and he asserts
that Dante is " in the midst of an assembly quite as imposing
as that represented upon the neighboring fresco"; that "there
are found kings, high dignitaries of the church, monks, a
Roman emperor (assuredly Trajan or Constantine), Immediately
above Dante is a rank of saints. He is placed in evidence the
utmost that is possible, his profile stands out vividly from a
sombre background ; the hands joined, the gaze lost in con-
templation of the divinity in an act of adoration and not at all
of supplication; he appears clad in bright vesture, detaching
himself from the other figures." M. Mesnil conceives the de*

Portrait op Dastb. dv Giotto, in the National Mlseum at Florence.

VOL. Lxxvni.— 49

76o

THE PORTRAITS OF DANTE.

[Mar.,

sign of the painter to have been to represent, on this side,
"the defenders of the true faith in opposition with infidels and
heretics, represented on the other side of the window."

Signer Alessandro Chiappelli has proceeded upon the pre-
sumption (to me well grounded), that it is more natural to
seek for portraiture of Dante in the fresco representing the
subject of his third " Cantico," or part of the " Divine Comedy,"
the Paradise upon which the poet had relied for recognition
and reward, both here and hereafter, Giotto had set an ex-
ample and established a certain precedent in the chapel of the
Florentine palace of the podesta, where appears that portrait
of Dante to which I have already alluded, the oldest in exis-
tence, antedating, by at least ten years (perhaps more), the
mural frescoes of the Orcagnas, in this Strozzi Chapel. Chiap-
pelli and Professor Pasquale Papa • both discern a certain de»
pendence of the Paradise of Orcagna upon that of Giotto and
that the Orcagna brothers both had in mind the work of the
great master who preceded them. I share the belief of Signer
Chiappelli t that artistic precedent establishes a point in favor *
of his presumption of place, and that the tender faith of the
time that the dead poet had, from the scarcely finished pages
of his Paradise, already attained the beatific vision in the
Ileavcn.s described by him, leads us naturally to seek the sem-
blance of his physical presence in the Paradise made real by
Dante's vivid imagery. With their minds' and imaginations en-
kindled with enthusiasm for the works of the Florentine poet,
so recently dead in exile, the Orcagnas, when "embellishing
with their brushes the chapel dedicated to the glory of St.
Thomas Aquinas, in the greatest Dominican church of Florence,
and peopling the walls with likenesses of famous churchmen,
swordsmen, of citizens of renown, perhaps even of artificers,
and certainly of many devout women, would not neglect to
depict in Paradise the figure of Dante, who had learned the
doctrines of St. Thomas in the school of Santa Maria Novella,
and, later, had invested them with the immortal form of poetry."

LThis is, indeed, all the more likely from the fact that the
description of Paradise given by Dante did not lend itself easily
to artistic interpretation and, since it was not possible to the
art or artists of that day and generation to give pictorial ex-
pression to the poet's thought, what more natural than to com-
memorate him by portraiture ? His ideas and poetical con-
*GiariiaU Daitttseo, XII., X903. t// RUratto di Danit, in Nucva Antologio, April, 1903, Rome.

I904.]

THE Portraits of Dante,

761

ceptions were closely followed, where it was within the meas-
ure of the possible, as we see in Nardo Orcagna's Hell, in the
Strozzi Chapel.

In seeking to identify an alleged portrait of Dante, it would
seem preferable to compare it with such descriptions and data
as have come down to us from contemporaries of the poet, or
from the generation immediately succeeding him, rather than
to apply the test of artistic tradition, leading, after Raphael,
to conceptions largely fanciful, not infrequently degenerating
almost to the grotesque. The first biographer of Dante was
Giovanni Boccaccio. Born eight years before the death of
Dante, Boccaccio (whose genius has not been denied by those
who dislike the manner of its exercise) conceived for his illus-
trious predecessor a passionate, reverent admiration, that found
expression in various ways. With his own hand Boccaccio
transcribed the whole of the " Divine Comedy," in a manu-
script edition which he presented to Petrarch. A chair of in-
terpretation of Dante's immortal work was created through
Boccaccio's influence, and his lectures, in this course, delivered
in the Church of San Stefano, at Florence, give to that church,
by association with this lectureship, its chief interest to travel-
lers of to- day. The Comento Sopra Dante, a voluminous work
of Boccaccio, displaying a large amount of miscellaneous learn-
ing, was (according to J. A. Symonds), the fruit of this activ-
ity. It is divided into fifty-nine lectures and is carried down
to the Inferno, xvii. 17. Boccaccio's personal influence cer-
tainly was an immense factor in creating and spreading enthu-
siasm for Dante's work among men of his generation. His
life of Dante is attributed to a comparatively early period of
his life. Mr. Symonds thinks • it may have been written in
'350, when the Florentines sent Boccaccio to Ravenna with a
present of ten golden florins for the poet's daughter. Boccaccio
expressly stated, in a preface to his life of Dante, that it was
intended as a slight amends to his memory, in compensation
for his exile and for the absence of any monument to him in
the city that had cast him out, that turbulent Florence which
has so often stoned the prophets and persecuted them that were
sent unto her ! To give his book more widespread circulation,
Boccaccio wrote his life of Dante in Italian, instead of Latin.

Although Boccaccio's written description of Dante's face
and figure did not appear until after the mural frescoes in

• G. Boccaccio, by J, A. .Symonds. London : J. C. Nimmo.

762

The Portraits of Dante.

[Mar.,

the Strozzi Chapel had been finished, the facts later set
forth in writing were doubtless conveyed, verbally, to the
OrcagTia brothers, with perhaps greater variety of detail.
However Boccaccio may be regarded as a biographer, and
whatever he may have lacked (by his nature and tcmpcra-
aient) for a proper comprehension of a poet so wholly dif-
ferent from himself, or in qualifications for criticism of lit-
erary or historic value, it is undeniable that he everywhere
Dather«<). with most conscientious care, authentic information
ftboilt Dante from original sources: from Piero del Giardino
ifOUH last remembrances of Dante's friends in Ravenna, from the
pci«t's owo daughter Beatrice, and from his nephew, Andrea
fiMwi. at Florence, noted, as he was, for a striking resemblance
10 D«nte> his uncle, and " from other persons worthy of faith,"
^ Uoccaccio carefully adds, in the Commentary to which I
tMive alluded.

Xo Boccaccio, therefore, we should, I think, recur for a
Vlftndard of comparison much more certain than artistic tra-
ditions, in which course of procedure we shall follow the views
of Signer Chiappelli> rather than the lines of argument in
which Monsieur Mesnil and Professor Papa seem to place so
n»uch reliance. Dantesque portraiture, traditional from the fif-
teenth century, appears to have been no longer founded upon
testimony handed down from contemporaries, or relatives and
friends of Dante. Though partially derived from the life by
Boccaccio, yet even with his data at hand, a type of portrait-
ure has been constructed, or evolved, evermore degenerating,
80 altering as finally to lose (as Chiappelli justly observes)
some of the characteristic features of Boccaccio's description,
and adding new ones which that description does not contain.

Of Dante's personal presence Boccaccio wrote: "The face
was long, and the nose aquiline, and the eyes rather large than
small, the jaws large, and the lower lip protruded beyond the
upper lip ; both the complexion was dark and the hair and
beard thick, black, and wavy, and ever in the countenance "
(was he) "melancholy and thoughtful." Boccaccio says, more-
over, that Dante was of medium stature and that he was
"somewhat bent," having a stoop or curvature of the shoul-
ders. This last peculiarity of his figure is attested not only in
his life of Dante, but also in his Commentary on the poet's
work, and it is given on authority of the poet's nephew,
Andrea. Poggi.

I
I

I904-]

The Portraits of Dante,

763

To Dante's somewhat bent form, or stooping gait, Boccaccio
found an allusion in the Inferno (" he walked stooping a lit-
tle"), and KrauSj. in our day, so interprets three lines of the
nineteenth canto of the Purgatory, commencing with the forti-
eth, which Mr. Thomas Okey, in a recent edition/ has ren-
dered into English, as follows: "Following him, I was bearing
my brow like one that hath it burdened with thought, who
makes of himself half an arch of a bridge."

Having in mind these characteristics of the personality of
Dante, Signer Chiappelli claims to have found them realized in
a figure in the fresco of Paradise, in this Strozzi Chapel,
.executed by Andrea Orcagna, or by both the Orcagna brothers.
A comparison of this figure with the description of Boccaccio,
will show that this supposed Dante of Orcagna's Paradise cor-
responds much more faithfully with Boccaccio's delineation than
with, or to, artistic tradition. So stereotyped, I may say
stilted, has this artistic tradition become, that a fair study of
the question is impossible without disassociating our minds
from visual memories of the work of modern artists; in fact,
from all Dantesque portraiture, in painting and sculpture, since
Raphael. Turning back to the earliest types, so great is the
similarity of this figure, in Orcagna's Paradise, with the Dante
of Giotto, that many artists to whom Signor Chiappelli has
merely shown photographs of the Orcagna representation have
recognized it, by its substantial resemblance to the Giottesque
portrait.

Although the work of Giotto recalls the poet as he was in
his earlier career, probably before his proscription and exile,
and the figure signalled by Chiappelli bears the unmistakable
impress of more advanced years, of a man saddened by the
bitterness of unmerited banishment, with its consequent poverty
and distress, yet both truly present the same sweet and pensive
expression, the framework of the lower jaw and fashion of the
chin are similar, and the firm incision of the mouth is animated
by a sweetly contemplative smile. The strong furrows which
encircle the mouth and mark the cheek, indicating maturity,
not crabbed old age, differentiate this face of Orcagna's from
the cavernous type repeated so often in the Dante of later, or
latest, artistic tradition.

The earlier, truer type of Dantesque portraiture is also
exemplified by the miniature of the Riccatdvauo Coi^Y., ^\\\05\.
•Publisheff by J. M. Dent & Co., LotvAotv.

764

The Portraits of Dante.

[Mar.,

does show quite a close affinity to the quietly energetic face
in the Paradise of Orcagna, with its aquiline nose, projecting
lower lip, massive jaw, and in the contour of the chin. Both
Hcrr Kraus and Signor Chiappelli insist upon the value of this
miniature of the Riccardiano Codex ; the latter allows, for its
technical execution, that it is the inexpert work of a fifteenth
century miniaturist and overestimated by the Milanese. In the
matter of resemblance, however, the points of difference between
the figure of Orcagna and the Riccardiano Dante are no more
marked than dissimilarities between the latter and the Giot-
tesque portrait, in the palace of the podesta, at Florence, while
the likeness of the Orcagna and Riccardiano faces remains
evident. >s Chiappelli claims, in the expression, of the eye,
Vtgttc «nd contemplative, as of a poet, but with frank and
OMO (limce, in the highly arched eyebrow, the curve of which
it tiTOQgty marked in both ; in two furrows, or lines, one origi-
u^tin^ from the angle of the mouth, the other descending from
thv AU^Ie of the nostril ; above all, in the dark, almost brown-
)«th »kin, noted by Boccaccio, not found in other portraits (not
twn that of Giotto), but evident alike in the Riccardiano
ntinittture and in the Paradise of Orcagna.

Some have objected to this supposed Dante, of the Paradise,
thiit the head is small and that it has not a high forehead.
t!liirtppelli replies {and I think fairly), that the dimensions of
the head do not differ from those of other figures adjacent.
While Boccaccio nowhere speaks of a high forehead, which is,
AB regards Dante, quite a modern assumption (presumably as
indicating high intellect and intelligence), this head, by Orcagna,
really has a high forehead. A glance will show that the fore-
head is far from depressed, and the hood which covers the
head, almost to the root of the nose, nearer still to the highly
arched eyebrows, extends, or elongates, the forehead in a very
nt»t4l>le measure. The only element of uncertainty in the
deicription of Boccaccio is his allusion to Dante's beard. No
representation of Dante has ever pictured him with a beard,
SKcept, perhaps, that recently pointed out in a Carrarese Codex
in Vienna, which is said, after a fashion, to indicate a hirsute
iippeiidage. It seems quite possible that Dante may have worn
M beard, for a brief period, perhaps of ill-health, afterwards
pitrunjf with it.

It uuiy be well to note that some photographs of this figure
i)iiiiQnWfi Paradise show a certain inaccuracy in the repro-

I
I

I904.1

The Portraits of Dante.

765

Mask or Dantk.

duction of the nose, where one photographer has sought to
remedy a slight effacement, or scratch in the fresco, whereby
the downward curve of the nose originally terminating, in the
fresco, in a slightly inward bend at the point, is not faithfully
reproduced. In the same negative, the mouth, also, is not as
accurately given as in other work. Some have thought they
could discern a book, held at the breast of this Dantesque
figure, in Orcagna's Paradise. The imperfect condition of the
fresco makes it impossible to determine this point with accuracy.
In the hooded figure, to the right of Dante, many have
thought they recognized Petrarch, and this other familiar figure
presents notable points of resemblance to well-known represen-
tations of the other great poet of the fourteenth century. Petrarch
was honored with the poet's crown,. solemnly conferred in A. D.
1 34 1, and, in 1350, he, for the first time, visited Florence, on
his way to the Jubilee, proclaimed, for that year, in Rome.
While in Florence he was the guest of Boccaccio. The date

766

The Portraits of Dante.

[Mar.,

execution of these mural frescoes of the Orcagnas, in the
Strozzi Chapel, is not definitely known, but they were not com-
menced later than 1350, perhaps prior to that date, by several
years. There may be a symbolic significance (such as Chiappelli
suggests), in this grouping together of Dante, the singer of the
Papal Jubilee of 1300 and Petrarch, a pilgrim to the Jubilee of
1350, both meeting in the celestial Jubilee of the life eternal.
Fra Jacopo Passavanti prior of the Dominican convent of Santa
Maria Novella, iaspirer and adviser in the decoration of this
charch, made himself a pilgrimage to Rome for the Jubilee of

1350-

In the absence of documentary proof, certainty of identifi-

oatioa is hampered by the element of ideality, that entered

ittlQ alt portraits prior to the fifteenth century. The immaturity

of Mt» Um casting of facial expression into harmony with sur-

rownduiga where portraiture was placed (in Heaven or Hell, for

ImUAC^ nsahed, often, in what painters of to-day style " an

IfllMI^ conception of a physiognomy," rather than in any real

{Ml4 Ktt«tthe resemblances. These frescoes of the Orcagna

^Mllktrt tutTered two attempts at so-called restoration, the first

te ^k% middle of the sixteenth century, the second in the

^Mt^lWkilkg of the eighteenth. In this clumsy renovation the

IMMmI co(ltours of many of the figures were altered, or

V^t'^'iUftKlt and it is possible that some of the colors may have

^ffH ^>han(;e(l in repainting. When the idea of Signor Nad,

Hltltatvr of public instruction in the Zanardeili cabinet, shall

K%Vf ki«eii carried out, and the evidences of imperfect resiora-

\\\s\\ i«n\oved, we shall more clearly and accurately see and

M|k|in>i'iNtc the original work.

M run while, these frescoes of the Strozzi Chapel will well

If uny iho labor of conscientious students of historic portraiture,

(IC uf h.mletique iconography. Further research may demon-

tUato llml both Monsieur Mesnil and those who think with

hlnii •Hill Sijjnor Chiappelli, may be justified in their separate

fiNlMiti (Hf the jiresence of Dante Alighicri in the Orcagna

|tHMi>i* «)f the La&t Judgment and also in that of Paradise. In

lh(t nn» yreat wall picture, the poet of the "Divine Comedy"

MMt' liMVO Jiittt received his place among the redeemed and,

III \\\%\ dihor. have fully entered into that vision of God which

Iti iliii iitvriia) beatitude of the life beyond the grave.

1904.] "Abyssus Abyssum Invocat.'* 767

"fiBYSSUS J^BYSSliM INYOGAIP."

A PASSION PRAYER.
BY S. M. WILFRID, O.S.D.

UT of the depths, my God, I cry to Thee

From an abyss of helpless misery !

From depths no heart may fathom save Thine own ;

No eye may scan save Thine, my God, alone.
Thou knowest — Thou hast seen, how I have turned
From Thy sweet Cross! how madly I have yearned
To quench the thirst, which naught of earth can slake,
With joys Thou couldst not bless ! Now — now I take
All that hath wronged Thy Love and in the dust
I cast it 'neath Thy Feet. All Pure, All Just,
Yet ever merciful, Thou wilt not spurn
Me from Thy Face! Thy Voice hath bid me turn
To Thee in quenchless* hope ;^boldly I cast
The bitter harvest of an evil past
Into the deep, the Infinite Abyss
Of Thine Unfathomed Heart. It was for this
That, like the tempest-riven rock, Thy Side
Was pierced, to shelter me! There, then, I hide
The heart I cannot keep for Thee from stain, —
The soul, my feeble hands would guard in vain !

768

A Peep at Spain.

[Mar.,

A PEEP AT SPAIN.

BY E. McAULlFFE

^N ocean voyage in mid-winter ! What indefinable
terrors fill the timorous mind at the bare idea!
However, if we want to enjoy to the full the
change from the cold North to the sunny lands
where summer lingers, we must brave the un-
known dangers of winter seas.

On leaving New York, early in December, so intense was
the cold that all the water intended for the steam- heating
apparatus and the use of the staterooms was frozen ; this was
New York weather. The next day we experienced a decided
rise in the temperature ; the radiators were all diffusing their
warm influence, and the passengers had to request the captain
to order the heat reduced. Many had the electric fans going
in their staterooms. We who, being old travellers, were not
victims of sea-sickness, sat out every day and al! day. We
did not see a drop of rain during the whole voyage of fourteen
days ; we had many clouds, but always a mild atmosphere, and
congratulated ourselves on not having yielded to vague fears.

The seventh day out we sighted the Azores, and made
some spiritual visits to the altars so near us. We had not
seen a sail in all these days, and I had just remarked to my
companion that we could there realize the expression, "the
waste of waters," as in all that immense space which we had
traversed day and night no voice of prayer or praise ascended
heavenward. She replied that in the "waste" no sin offended
the Almighty; the creatures of the deep fulfilled the end for
which they were created. Alas 1 that it should be so ; it is only
where man is, in the enjoyment of all God's gifts, that sin is.

After passing the Azores the weather continued to grow
milder. Early on the morning of the tenth day we were
called up to see Africa. The sky was all crimson ; the sea
reflected the rosy tints. The sun had not yet risen as, looming
dark against the morning's blushes, we saw the low hills of
Tangiers on our right ; on the left lay Portugal ; on either
hand a continent^ — the grandest spectacle imaginable I

I
I
I

1904.] A PEEP AT Spain.

Ulysses entered "the Strait Pass" from the opposite side,
and describes his experience to Dante :

"As Iberia far.
Far as Morocco either shore I saw,
And the Sardinian and each iste beside
Which round that ocean bathes."

{Inferno, c. xxvi. v. 102.)

As the red hues faded and the Monarch of day arose the
golden light made objects clearer; and as the hours flew by
we gazed untired upon new beauties constantly unfolding them-
selves.

At three o'clock we neared Gibraltar. For hours the
enormous mass had been in sight ; and now, notwithstanding
the many descriptions we had read, we were quite unprepared
for the stupendous proportions of this fortress of Nature.

The steamship company allows the privilege to passengers
of disembarking and remaining over* until the arrival of the
next American steamer (about twelve days), and then resuming
k the journey to Italy without extra charge. A great deal can
be done in twelve days with a well- planned itineraire, so we
decided to avail ourselves of the opportunity.

There is nothing in Gibraltar to tempt one to make a
stay, after seeing the wonderful Rock which, penetrated by
galleries and pierced by loopholes bristling with artillery, is
the most redoubtable fortress in the world. Apart from the
Rock, commonplace describes it all. English soldiers and Eng-
lish bar-rooms in too great profusion ofTend the eye. So we
leave the place without delay ; it is a good starting point
to the exquisite regions beyond.

Although impatient to be in the real Spain, we could not
resist the temptation to go to Tangiers; two hours' smooth
sailing transports you into another world. Everything so dif-
ferent, so un-European; I might say un- African as well, for
one might imagine one's self in the far East! A veritable
land of enchantment, recalling scenes from the Arabian Nights.

The town is built on two hills and crowns the heights
above the lovely bay. The houses are low and flat- roofed,
but the graceful towers of the many mosques counteract the
otherwise monotonous effect. Beside the mosque is always to
be seen the palm-tree. The lower ranges of the Atlas Moun-
tains form a background on which the eye rests with pleasure.

770 A PEEP AT SPAIN. [Mar.,

The streets are very steep, as in all hill towns, but the air is
so pure and invigorating that one never feels tired. The cos-
tumes of the people are most picturesque; in the market-
place you see them in every variety of color — green mantles,
yellow turbans, scarlet sashes, etc.; here and there a group of
white- veiled women sit on the ground selling bread, while
gigantic negroes selling water, which they carry in skins, lend
an additional attraction to the scene.

Here also are the camels, resting after being relieved of
their burdens; huge creatures, looking at you with such a sad
expression in their soft brown eyes. And in the centre of the
crowd the traditional snake-charmer — a mad dervish, who
amuses every one with his tricks and simulated frenzy.

Oran, where Cardinal Ximenes gained such signal victories
for the cross, under Ferdinand and Isabella, is not far from
Tangiers. Laying down his crozier, he girded on the sword and
led an army into the Barbary States, which he brought under
the dominion of Spain, and planted the Faith in those hitherto
dark regions.

On returning to Gibraltar we shaped our course northwards
for Seville and Granada. Travel in Spain is not agreeable ; the
roads are bad, the trains slow ; but the surprises which await
you compensate for all manner of discomforts. No adjective
that I can call to mind is strong enough, even in its superla-
tive degree, to describe Seville, and its splendid gardens on the
banks of the " blue Guadalquivir."

The cathedral of Seville is, beyond all comparison, the most
beautiful in Europe. We thought nothing could exceed Italian
churches, but they took a secondary place now. A modem
traveller says of it: "To describe this cathedral you would
want to have at hand all the extravagant hyperboles of the
writers of all countries." Its immensity is the first thing that
strikes the beholder ; it seems an effort to travel with your
eye to the ceiling. There are five naves, each large enough
for a church. "The main altar, in the midst of the central
nave, seems as though intended for a race of giants ; the
Paschal candle is like the mast of a ship, and the bronze
candlestick that holds it is a museum in itself of sculpture and
chiselling that would take a day to study." The paintings
which adorn the walls are of the highest order, the greatest
works of world-famous artists; thirty-eight immortals have
wrought here for the glory of God ; sixty- seven sculptors of like

1904]

A Peep at Spain.

771

merit have left their work to be the marvel of succeeding
generations.

The body of the holy king Ferdinand reposes in a side
chape] ; laid in a crystal casket, clothed in his royal robes, and
wearing on his head the crown. Lying beside him is the
sword which he bore in his hand on the day he entered Seville
after freeing her from the dominion of the Moor. Imagination
is fairly beggared in searching for words that might do justice
to the rich decorations in this and the other chapels, mostly
mortuary, containing the bodies of illustrious personages — the
caskets of crystal, flaming with rubies and diamonds, the
statues of marble, carvings in wood, priceless paintings and
many untold treasures.

Behind the choir the visitor is shown a slab, with the
inscription: "Beneath this itone lie the bones of Ferdinand
Columbus, son of Christopher Columbus, born at Cordova, died
at Seville July 12, 1536, aged fifty years." When a boy
Ferdinand had been a page to Queen Isabella; later he travelled
to the New World with his father, and afterwards made voyages
to all parts of the world, devoting himself to the collection of
rare books, for which he spared neither trouble nor expense.
On returning to Spain he formed a library, which he bequeathed
to the cathedral of Seville. This library contains an excellent
collection of Bibles, illuminated missals and manuscripts; but
the gem of the collection is an old Latin book, a treatise on
cosmography and astronomy, the margins all covered with notes
written by the hand of Columbus !

The Giralda tower is so well known that description is need-
less here ; from it we pass into the Patio de los Naranjos
{Court of Oranges) close by. This court is surrounded by a
high wall ; in the centre of the vast enclosure rises a fountain
which throws its spray to an immense height, falling again into
a marble basin. On every side are groves of orange-trees, and
the air is filled with the delicious fragrance of their blossoms;
and here come every day the ladies of Seville, to eat ices in
the soft twilight of their shady depths.

We take a hasty glance at the Alcazar, the ancient palace
of the Moorish kings, and its splendid gardens, and then on to
the museum and famous art-gallery of Seville.

Here are to be found some of the finest paintings in exist-
ence; works the sight of which lifts one up above the things
of earth, and fills the soul with heavenly longings.

77» A Peep at Spain. [Mar.,

Who could behold unmoved the St. Anthony of Padua?
Few works of human hands have ever equalled this, Murillo's
great masterpiece. I have been told that a sceptic, on looking
at this picture, touched by the reality of the divinity, felt con-
strained to cry out, "Credo!"

Murillo was one of the most spiritual, the most religious of
paiaters. Sebastian Gomez, commonly called " the Mulatto of
MoriUo/' has some fine pieces here. The story of Gomez is
quite interesting. As a little boy he was hired to wait on the art-
students of Murillo, and soon showed the divine fire of genius.
When all the household was wrapped in slumber it was his
custom to creep noiselessly into the studio, and selecting the
proper brushes and colors, seat himself before an unfinished
p*intingt putting in with unerring judgment the necessary
touches. Each morning there was a pleasant surprise for some
atwleot, in a bit of his work finished to perfection — ^a hand, an
»rm, or the pose of a head which he had toiled at unsuccess-
fully the previous day ; while all the others grumbled and com-
phfcia«d : ** My brushes have been used again," or "My paints
have been used," etc For a long time no one could solve the
iwystery.

But one morning the little fellow, absorbed in his work,
took no heed of the lapse of time, and was still working when
the first group of students entered. Amazed at first, they stole
silently away to call the master. Murillo came in haste ; the
noise of his entrance disturbed the child, who, looking round,
knew that he was discovered !

Filled with undefinable terror, he scrambled down from the
hiyh atool on which he had been seated, and cast himself at
the feet of the painter, exclaiming: "Pardon, pardon; I
fuulil n't help it, master \ "

'I'hn master raised him from the ground, and clasping him
III hb «rins, said : " Henceforth you are my son ; I am proud
of you." f

An<i when Gomez came to be recognized as one of the
l^rnMl jirtititcrs of Spain, he was proud to be called "The
Miihtllo iif Murillo."

" Ay dl me Alhama I " Even a good Christian may feel
|«iOi0 illrrlnga of sympathy for the Moor on seeing Granada
f«tf iha rtfit time. Beautiful beyond a poet's dreaming; with
IM t'*^! clitnate, its trees and fountains; its Alameda — the finest
M^4ftlfil\»(]ti ill ttip world ; so broad that fifty carriages can drive

I9O40 ^ Peep AT Spain. 773

abreast, shaded with splendid trees of foliage so dense that
even at midday no ray of sun can penetrate them ; and there
you may sit at ease during the sultry hours, surrounded with
flowery parterres, listening to the flowing river and the splash
of fountains, mingled with the songs of innumerable nightingales.

At Granada one is tempted to linger, and to cltmb day
after day the hill on which stands the Alhambra; an entire
month would pass before one could feel that he had seen the
principal attractions of that marvellous structure. A great deal
of sentiment has been wasted on the Alhambra ; when all is
said, what is it but a gorgeous monument of pagan luxury
with an unwholesome odor of vice ? Let us turn to the Chris-
tian monuments, the tombs of the mighty dead, and breathe a
purer air, a more spiritual atmosphere,

In the cathedral of Granada are the tombs of Ferdinand
and Isabella^ besides other kings and princes of Spain. Among
the precious objects preserved in the chapel which contains
their honored dust is the casket in which the queen placed
her jewels when she pawned them in order to raise funds for
Columbus. Also the crown and sceptre ot Isabella, the sword
of Ferdinand, a missal, and several ornaments which belonged
to the sovereigns. In the Church of St. Jerome is the tomb
of the great Captain, Gonsalvo de Cordova. The visitor here
is shown a document which is in itself a grander monument
than any the world could show in marble or precious gems.
I succeeded in getting a French translation, which I retrans-
late into English. It is a magnificent testimony of the care
and thought which a Christian soldier bestows on the men of
his command, providing for their souls and bodies.

The document is in the following words:

" Every step of the Great Captain was an assault, and every
assault a victory ; his tomb in the church of the convent of
the Hieronymites of Granada was decorated with two hundred
banners taken by him. His enemies, envious of his success,
especially the treasurers of the kingdom of Naples, in 1506
persuaded the king to ask an accounting from Gonsalvo of the
use which he had made of the large sums which he had
received from Spain for the war in Italy, and the king was
weak enough to consent, and even to assist at the conference.

** Gonsalvo bore this demand with proud contempt, and
determined to give a severe lesson to both treasurers and king,

the manner of treating a conquerer of kingdoms.

774 A PEEP AT Spain. [Mar.,

"He quietly replied that he would have his accounts ready
the next day, and that he would let them see which was debtor
and which creditor — he or the exchequer.

"The exchequer claimed to have advanced him the following
sums: one hundred and thirty thousand ducats in the first
remittance, eighty thousand crowns in the second, three millions
in the third, eleven millions in the fourth, thirteen for the fifth,
and so on — this read in a nasal voice by a stupid secretary.

" The Great Gonsalvo kept his word ; he presented himself at
the second audience, and, opening the voluminous book in which
he had noted down his justification, in a loud and sonorous
voice read the following:

" Two hundred thousand, seven hundred and thirty-six ducats
and nine reals to the monks, to the nuns, and to the poor, that
they might pray to God for the success of the Spanish arms.

"A hundred millions for bullets, mattocks, and pickaxes.

" A hundred thousand ducats for powder and balls.

"Ten thousand ducats for scented gloves to protect the
soldiers from infection from the corpses of the enemy lying on
the field of battle.

" A hundred and seventy thousand ducats for refounding
the bells worn out from continually ringing to announce new
victories.

"Fifty thousand ducats for brandy for the soldiers on the
days of battle.

" A million and a half of ducats for the keep of prisoners
and wounded.

" A million for Te Deums and Masses of thanksgiving to
the Almighty.

"Three hundred millions for prayers for the dead.

"Seven hundred thousand, four hundred and ninety-four
ducats to spies, etc.

** A hundred millions for the patience I showed yesterday
on hearing that the king demanded an accounting from him
who had given him a kingdom."

This document is but a copy; there are two originals, with
the autograph signature of the Great Captain; one of which
is in the possession of the Count d'Altamira of Spain, the other
in the military museum of London.

BY JOSEPH M. SULLIVAN. LL.B.

'aw, as well as religion; and literature, owes a
great debt to the Ireland of early times. We
think of Saint Patrick as a great moral reformer
and holy man, but as a lawgiver and codifier
he is a less familiar figure. The influence of
ancient Irish civilization in establishing respect for legal pro-
cess and obligations is lost sight of in the better known tales
of how Irish scholars kept learning alive in Europe, and how
Irish bards sang in an otherwise unmusical age.

The ecclesiastical history of Ireland, alternating from splen-
dor and triumph to discomfiture and squalid misery, is a sub-
ject well calculated to arrest and rivet the attention of the
thoughtful student. We are certain that Christianity prevailed
in Ireland before St. Patrick's time, because Palladius, who
visited Ireland the year preceding Patrick, found sacred vessels
of the altar in parts of the country where he and his fellow-
missionaries had not penetrated. From that it conclusively
appears that there were Christians in Ireland before the mis-
sion of St. Patrick; but to St. Patrick alone must be awarded
the glory of planting the Gospel of Christ and placing the
Christian religion upon a firm basis.

The mission of Palladius, who was a deacon of the Roman
Church, or, as some say, archdeacon, furnishes the student with
authentic data as to the introduction of Christianity into
Ireland.

Palladius, who was probably a native of Britain, had dis-
tinguished himself by his efTorts to rid Britain from the heresy
of Pelagius; he was chosen by St. Celestine, and consecrated
first bishop of the Irish, as St. Prosper, Bede, and others attest.
In his mission to Ireland he was accompanied by a band of
faithful missionaries, four of whom, Sylvester, Solonius, Augus-
tine, and Benedict, are mentioned in the lives of St Patrick.
His exact place of landing is not known; but antiquarians
VOL. Lxxviii. — so

776 Saint Patrick as a Lawgiver. [Mar.,

place it not far distant from Wexford. He met with great
success in his efforts to spread the Gospel, for it appears he
made converts and established churches, and St. Prosper was
so highly pleased with his mission that he did not hesitate to
say that the country was added to the universal fold. The
success of this noble saint aroused the enmity of the warlike
sovereign; he was forced to fiee, and after many vicissitudes
landed in Britain ; but, worn out by privation and fatigue,
he died at Forden, in the district of Mearn in Scotland, on
December 15, 431. He was on his way to report to the
Sovereign Pontiff the result of his missionary labors, but
Heaven willed otherwise.

The place of St. Patrick's birth has always been a subject
of much controversy among writers of ecclesiastical history.
Some writers claim it for Scotland, others for England, while
a third class favor France as the country of St. Patrick's birth.
The weight of authority, however, seems to regard Brittany, a
small province of France, as the place of our noble saint's
birth. Dr. Ledwich, a prejudiced writer, has striven to show
that St. Patrick was an ideal or mythical person; but the fre-
quent mention of the name of Patrick in the canons attributed
to him furnish an incontrovertible argument, and establish the
identity of our saint beyond all reasonable doubt.

Sectional hatred and religious bigotry are oftentimes behind
these efforts to belittle St. Patrick's work, and to question bis
existence; these self-same critics have never doubted the
existence and the labors of St. Augustine, the Saxon, who
under instructions from Pope Gregory the Great, more than a
century later, carried on a similar work among the ancient
Britons.

The place of our noble saint's birth is after all a matter
of very little importance; it is the life-work and the result of
the missionary labors of St. Patrick which attract the atten-
tion of every Catholic student and lover of his native land.
He accomplished the difficult task of converting the warlike
Irish people to the doctrines of the Christian religion, and he
succeeded in doing this in a peaceful manner without the shed-
ding of a single drop of blood.

The spirit of the Gospel preached on Tara, Armagh, and
Tredagha has taken a firm hold upon the Irish race ; it has be-
come firmly embedded in their souls, and they have remained

1904.]

Saint Patrick as a Lawgiver.

true to its teachings, and have clung to their primitive faith
with such a singular fidelity and steadfastness of purpofc that
human wisdom cannot account for it. The religious doctrines
he founded have outlived all other dynasties known to man,
both ancient and modern. In these days of occult sciences,
of positive doubt and denial, the Irish, as a race, have never
swerved from the teachings of St. Patrick, but have planted ihc
seeds of the Catholic religion in every country in the civilized
and pagan world.

The year of St. Patrick's birth was in all probability A. D. 386,
since, according to his confession, forty- five years lay between
his birth and his consecration as a bis^hop (a. D. 431). His
family was possessed of some wealth, and had been Christians
for generations; his great-grandfather having already been a
presbyter. At the age of sixteen (a. d. 402) he was kidnapped
by plundering Irish, and taken as a slave to the north of Ire-
land. For six years, from 402-408, he was a swineherd. He
left home about the year 424, at the age of thirty- eight, and
followed the ancient route to Rome via Auxerre, along the
valley of the Rhone via Aries, and by the coast of the Pro-
vance and the Lerinian Islands, through northern Italy. He
was in Rome in the year 429, according to Frosper's state-
ment. According to the best authorities he first set foot on
the Irish shore in the year 432, and was received by a people
ready and willing to embrace the doctrines which he preached.
The success of his mission is conceded by all.

The fifth century saw the complete collapse of the organ-
ization of the British Church, which left her in a state of great
distress and trouble, whence, according to Gildas' own state-
ment, she emerged but slowly and with difficulty during the
first half of the sixth century. Meanwhile the Irish Church could
give herself up to her own development in undisputed peace.
The high standard of classical education in the Irish monas-
teries from the sixth to the ninth century, to which numerous
Irish manuscripts of classical authors bear witness, can only be
explained if we assume that Ireland, or at least the south east
of Ireland, had embraced Christianity, and with it ancient civ-
ilization and learning, as early as the end of the fourth
century, was able to develop the alien culture without dis-
turbance from outside. In Ireland alone could the cultiva-
tion of classical learning be propagated and iosVttti ai\. ». \l\vi.t

778 Saint Patrick AS A Lawgiver. [Mar.,

when everywhere else, in Britain, Gaul, and Italy, hordes of
barbarians had well-nigh succeeded in stamping it out.

The threadbare classical erudition of Gildas, and the low
standard of the Welsh Church during the seventh and eighth
centuries, are convincing proofs enough that the foundations
of classical learning in Ireland cannot have been laid by
British churchmen of the sixth century. If they had, how
account for the fact that the erudition of Irish monks at that
time surpassed, on the whole, even that of Italy ? For Greek
was taught in Bangor, and other monasteries, while Gregory
the Great, in all probability, had no knowledge of the lan-
guage. We also possess direct proofs that from the very
beginning of the sixth century Irish clerics went to the south-
west of Britain, as well as to Brittany, implanting and spread-
ing knowledge, not receiving it. They were, so to speakj
the pioneers of those later expeditions into Prankish territory,
from the end of the sixth century onwards. In 884 the
Briton monk, Wrmonoc, wrote a life of St. Paul of Leon, who
lived at the beginning of the sixth century. From the above
remarks the student will perceive that our Irish ancestors had
culture, learning, religion, and laws at a time when all Europe
was deeply engulfed in barbarism and ignorance. Let us now
direct our attention .to a consideration of St. Patrick's labors in
the field of legal study and research.

The Senchus Mor, a Gaelic manuscript containing the larg-
est part of the Brehon Code, was compiled in the first part of
the fifth century, and was therefore in full force and effect
when St. Patrick first set foot on the shores of Erin.

Sent there by the pope in the year A. D. 432, St. Patrick
found that there existed in ancient Ireland a code of laws in
which the property and personal rights of individuals were
minutely regulated. He found also that the rights of women
in lands of their husbands were jealously guarded. The wife
had the right to alienate a portion of her husband's land, and
to cpntrol to some extent her' husband's right of alienation.
Schooled as he was in Roman law, St. Patrick discovered that
the ancient Irish law governing the distribution of estates of
deceased persons left nothing to be desired in the matter of
compilation and amendment. He was surprised to find a com-
plete system of legal ethics, a court, a judge, and enlightened
procedure for the enforcement of its decrees. He found that

1904] Saint Patrick AS A Lawgiver, 779

the courts employed, in the enforcement of their judgments,
writs and processes resembling those of distress, and other
forms commonly used in early English procedure. He found,
also, that the rights of creditors were protected ; as, for in-
stance, sureties were made liable somewhat after the old Eng-
lish institution of frank-pledge.

St. Patrick soon learned that the ancient Irish needed no
instruction in legal ethics, and he immediately directed his
efforts to harmonize these laws with the doctrines of Chris-
tianity. St. Patrick's opinion of the native code we find in his
own words in the introduction to the Senchus Mor. What did
not clash with the word of God, and the consciences of the
believers, was confirmed in the laws of the Brehons, for the
law of nature had been right, except as to the faith and the
harmony of the church and people. With the advent of St.
Patrick and Christianity into Ireland, came the introduction of
canon !aw in all its varied forms. This introduction of canon
law into Ireland, and the establishment of ecclesiastical courts
in every district, and the usurping of pleas belonging to the
crown, caused great confusion and internal disorder. The Iri^h
had such a profound respect for the superior knowledge of
their priest that in all cases, even in matters of life and death,
his word was considered supreme. This conflict between secu-
lar and ecclesiastical tribunals is of very ancient origin. St,
Paul, in preaching Christianity in the early days, cautioned the
faithful against dragging each other before infidel judges. We
find instances where even the termoners, or tenants, of the
ecclesiastical land exercised judicial functions, and decided the
ordinary disputes of the locality.

For example, Valentinian III. decreed that clerics might be
tried before a bishop, with consent of both parties. Under
the Gothic kings it was not allowed for a cleric to appear
before a secular tribunal. Down to the time of the Reforma-
tion, in the sixteenth century, the exclusive right of the church
to dispose of testamentary, matrimonial, and defamatory cases
was undisputed. This state of affairs caused great dissatisfac-
tion and endless controversy. It was well-nigh into the seven-
teenth century before the secular courts established a secure
foothold upon the jurisprudence of Ireland and placed the
judiciary of the country upon a firm basis, A single iltustra-
tion of St. Patrick's work in Ireland will give the reader an

78o Saint Patrick AS A Lawgiver. [Mar.,

adequate idea of his labors in the field of legal study and revi-
sion. St. Patrick requested the men of Erin to come to one
place to hold a conference with him. When they came to the
conference the Gospel of Christ was preached to them all.
And when they saw Laeghaire and his Druids overcome by
the great science and miracles wrought in the presence of the
men of Erin, they bowed down -in obedience to the will of
God and Patrick, in the presence of every chief of Erin. It
was then that Dubhthach (pronounced Dhoovah) was ordered
to exhibit the judgments, and all the poetry (literature) of
Erin, and every law which prevailed amongst the men of Erin,
through the law of nature^ and the law of seers, and in the
judgments of the island of Erin, and in the poets. Now, the
judgments of true nature which the holy spirit had spoken
through the mouths of the Brehons and just poets of the men
of Erin from the first occupation of the island down to the
reception of the faith were all exhibited by Dubhthach to
Patrick.

St. Patrick as a lawgiver met with unqualified success. As
a result of his labors the gloomy light of the Druid began to
flicker, and the beneficent jurisprudence of the Christian began
to make its presence felt among the Irish people. He coun-
selled moderation, and curbed the spirit of a warlike race. He
preached the Divine Law to the pagan from the greatest of
law books, the Holy Scriptures, and the Omnipotent Judge
blessed his efforts. His example was emulated by St Augus-
tine, the Saxon, who more than a century later carried on a
similar work among the ancient Britons.

Christianity can hardly repay the debt it owes to St. Patrick.
His searching and convincing logic dissipated the darkness of
paganism that had overspread the land, and planted the seeds
of Christianity, never to be uprooted.

1904.] PUBLIC Appropriations TO Orphan AsYLUAfs. 781

PUBLIC APPROPRIATIONS TO ORPHAN ASYLUMS.

BY TAYLOR M. WEED, LL.B.

'HE case of James Sargent against The Board of
Education of the City of Rochester, which has
been pending in the courts of this State since
the early part of 1902, having reached the Court
of Appeals, was decided by that tribunal on
January 29 last past against the plaintiff and in favor of the
Board of Education of the city of Rochester and St. Mary's
Asylum for Orphan Boys of that city. The opinion of the
court is written by Mr. Justice O'Brien, and so far as space
will permit is given below.

The action was originally brought by the plaintiflT, James
Sargent, as a taxpayer to restrain the payment of certain pub-
lic moneys raised for the purposes of education, but which, as
by him alleged, were about to be disposed of in violation of
law. He asked that the Board of Education be enjoined from
auditing or paying the salaries of four Sisters of St. Mary's
Asylum employed by it to teach the inmates of the said
asylum.

The court, in the first instance, dismissed the complaint,
and the plaintiflf thereupon appealed to the Appellate Division
of the Supreme Court in the Fourth Department. This court
by a unanimous decision decided against him, affirming the
judgment of the court below. Not satisfied with this determina-
tion, he appealed to the Court of Appeals with the result just
mentioned.

The plaintiff hoped to succeed, by reason of the provisions
of article iv., section 9, of our State Constitution, which reads
as follows :

" Neither the State nor any subdivision thereof shall use its
property or credit or any public money, or authorize or per-
mit either to be used directly or indirectly, in aid or mainte>
nance, other than for examination or inspection, of any school
or institution of learning wholly or in part under the control
or direction of any religious denomination, or in which any
denominational tenet or doctrine is taught."

782 PUBLIC Appropriations TO Orphan ASYLUMS. [Mar.,

' There is, however, another provision of the Constitution to
which the plaintiff failed to refer, but which, in the words of
the court, " must be read with the one just quoted."

This is article viii., section 14, of the Constitution, which
reads as follows :

" Nothing in this Constitution contained shall prevent the
Legislature from making such provision for the education and
support of the blind, the deaf and dumb, and juvenile delin-
quents, as to it may seem proper ; or prevent any county, city,
town, or village from providing for the care, support, mainte-
nance, and secular education of inmates of orphan asylums,
homes for dependent children, or correctional institutions,
whether under public or private control, etc."

It will be well to keep both of these provisions of law in
mind in reading the opinions of the courts.

The opinion, in the first appeal, which was taken from
Special Term to the Appellate Division of the Fourth Depart-
ment, is reported in volume 76 Appellate Division Reports at
page 588.

In his opinion Mr. Justice Williams says : " . . . Substan-
tially, the basis of the plaintiff's right of action is the contention
that the institution in question is a school and not an asylum.
If it is a school or institution of learning, then no money can
be paid to it directly or indirectly, under section 4, article ix.,
of the State Constitution, because it is wholly or in part under
the control of a religious denomination and denominational doc-
trines are taught in it."

Art. iv., sec. 9; art. viii., sec. 14: ". . . The institution
is clearly an asylum and not a school or institution of learning,
within the meaning of the constitutional provisions hereinbefore
referred to. Its main object is to furnish a home, food, cloth-
ing, lodging, and moral training to the boys committed to its
charge. As incidental to the main object, it necessarily fur-
nished the boys with secular and religious education. They,
could not be permitted to grow up in this State in ignorance
and without religious instruction.* The fact that secular educa-
tion has been furnished in the institution does not change its
real character as an asylum, and make it a school or institution
of learning. . . ."

" . . . The propriety, if not necessity, at the present tin;e

• Italics our own.

1904.1 Pi'BLic Appropriations to Orphan Asylums. 783

of providing for the secular education of the children in the
asylums of the city of Rochester in their respective institutions
cannot well be doubted. The children must have the education,
and it can best be afforded them at their own homes in the
institutions. The ordinary school buildings are inadequate, and
the children can be better governed and controlled where they
are than in the general school buildings of the city. They
seem to be well educated by the teachers who have charge of
them, and to pass their examinations quite as creditably as do
the children attending in the general school buildings of the
city."

" . . . The city has to pay the asylums nothing for rent
and only a proper compensation for teachers. There being no
constitutional objection, there certainly can be no other objec-
tion on the part of the taxpayers to this method of providing
for the secular instruction of the children in the asylums in
question. There can be no doubt as to the qualifications as
teachers of the sisters whom the Board of Education had a
right to employ, and the garb worn by them can do no harm
fc to the children whom they instruct. The children are Catho-
lies by parentage. The garb worn is that of Catholic sisters.
It can in no way atfect the children injuriously while they are
receiving the secular instruction." . "The asylum is the

home of these children, the only home they have." •

In the opinion of Mr. Justice O'Brien, of the Court of
Appeals^ we find the same principles of the law reiterated and
emphasized, supplemented, however, by a careful examination
and learned discussion of the local statutes affecting the question
I before the court. After having carefully stated the facts of the
case and given an erudite discussion of the law, wherein the
learned justice cites all the statutes bearing on the case, he
sums up in the following words:

" But it is contended in behalf of the plaintiff that public moneys
ought not to have been used for the education of children in
an orphan asylum maintained by any church or religious organ-
ization. The plaintiff is evidently willing that the children

■ should be educated, but in some other place than the asylum.

■ " l?argent v. Board of li^ducalion et al. 76 .App. Div., 588. Opinio?) by Williams, J

■ (unanimous), Nov. Term, 190a.

784 PUBLIC APPROPRIATIONS TO ORPHAN ASYLUMS. [Mar.,

It is said that children ought to be removed from the influence
of religious teaching in the asylum, and especially the influence
of female teachers who belong to some religious order and
wear the garb of that order. It is quite clear, I think, that
such objections do not rest upon any reasonable foundation.
In the first place it is perfectly obvious that these children
could not receive instruction in any other place. They were
under the exclusive control of the managers of the asylum.
They were in a certain sense deprived of their liberty. Some
of them may have been sent to the asylum after conviction for
crime, and in such cases they may, when of a certain age, be
committed to such an institution by magistrates, courts and
judges (Corbett v. St. Vincent's Industrial School, 177 N. Y.,
16). The children that were placed in the asylum otherwise —
that is, by parents and g^uardians — were under the same dis-
cipline and control, and it is plain that they could not be dis-
charged from such control or the discipline of the institution.
In some sense it would be about the same as discharging boys
from the county jail in order to permit them to attend the
common schools. Of course such an idea is entirely inadmis-
sible, but it is plain that the statute last above quoted contem-
plated that the teaching of these orphan boys should be in the
asylum where they were detained. The language is that the
asylum 'shall participate in the distribution of the school
moneys in the same manner and to the same extent in propor-
tion to the number of children educated therein as the common
schools in their respective cities or districts.' The statute
clearly recognizes the fact that the instruction was to be had
or given therein, that is, in the asylum where the boys were
detained. When we look into the debates on this subject in
the constitutional convention when the provisions of the Con-
stitution already quoted were the subject of debate, it is cleariy
apparent that the members of that body understood that instruc-
tion in the case of orphan children detained in an asylum was
neither practicable nor possible elsewhere than in the institution
itself. The four teachers in question were licensed by the public
authorities to teach. To license them as qualified teachers and
employ them and receive the benefit of their services, and then
refuse ' to pay them upon the objection of some taxpayer, would
be a species of injustice unworthy of a great State.

" The objection is made that the several statutes referred to,

1904.] Public Appropriations to Orphan Asylums. 785

and under which the moneys were raised and paid over to the
Board of Education for the purpose of defraying the expense
of secular education in orphan asylums, are mandatory and
thus in violation of the constitution. When the statutes are
all read together it will be seen that they are not an arbitrary
mandate of the Legislature, but the depository o( large discre-
tionary powers, and even if they were, the only consequence
would be that they could be disregarded by the local authori-
ties. The statutes are good as an authority, even though they
would be held to be void as a command. They are certainly
broad and comprehensive enough to confer authority upon the
city government and the board of education to raise and
expend the money for the purposes indicated, and to do all
the things of which the plaintiff complains in this case. There
was no error in the disposition of the case below, and, there-
fore, the judgment must be affirmed, with costs.

" Parker, Ch.J.; Gray, Bartlett, Haight, Martin and CuUcn, JJ.,
concur,

"Judgment affirmed."*

This decision is of great moment and consequence to us
Catholics. Not merely because the Catholic institution immedi-
ately affected by it succeeded in its contention, nor because
by it similar institutions are guaranteed the support which they
are now receiving, nor because a bigotry only too patent from
the arguments advanced by the plaintiff in the case referred
to, has, at least in this particular instance, been thwarted in its
designs and cflfectively rebuked, but because it makes evident
that the justice of the cause for which Catholics have long
been laboring (the support by the State of schools in which
Catholics as Catholics may be educated), has at least to some
extent not only been recognized by the courts of this State,
but recognized also by those who framed our State Consti-
tution. ,

In article viii., section 14, they recognized the injustice of
throwing the burden of supporting and educating those classes
of people who are deemed to be the wards of the State upon
private institutions without compensating them therefore.

The right of Catholic children and children of other reli-
gious belief to be committed to the care and custody of insti-

• Cfr. Nrui York Law Jturttal, Feb. 8, 1904.

786 Public Appropriations to Orphan asylums. [Mar.»

tutions of their own faith is recognized in other provisions of
law and the practice of so doing is now securely established in
this State.

The State, however, has drawn an arbitrary line, on one
side of which are found all the kinds of institutions maintained
by people of different religious belief, other than for educational
purposes, and on the other side those maintained by the dif-
ferent denominations solely for educational purposes; the for-
mer receiving assistance from the State, the latter none.

In other words, we have private institutions (asylums, homes,
correctional institutions, etc.) receiving assistance from the State
in the education of their inmates, and yet we find the State
refusing its aid to institutions designed exclusively for educa-
tional purposes, although the institutions in question are willing
to submit to State supervision.

We submit there is no reason for this arbitrary distinction.
If the State finds itself justified in assisting orphans and way-
ward children in being educated under the influence of a par-
ticular religion, why should it object to giving its aid to insti-
tutions designed for the education of its children at large under
the influence of their own particular religious belief.

We submit further that the distinction is unjust and has no
real foundation in law ; that it prevents the education of many
children in schools where they can not only acquire secular
education of equal merit with that obtained in the schools
maintained by the State, but in addition thereto can imbibe
principles of religious belief that will tend to develop in them,
among other things, that strong, rooted respect for authority
the absence of which is so notorious in our country to-day and
yet which alone can be the safeguard of our Republic.

1904] Wilfrid Ward's "Problems and Persons," 787

WILFRID WARD'S "PROBLEMS AND PERSONS."*

BY SAMUEL A. RICHARDSON. A.M.

IR. WILFRID WARD, like his father. WilHam
George Ward, is one of those Catholics who
practically demonstrate the absurdity of ignoring
the powers of the lay apostolate. Here and
there and everywhere quite a host of readers
must feel, as the present writer does, that a long deferred ser-
vice to the CathoHc public has been rendered in the issuing of
the series of essays collected in the present volume. For many
of us, to remember having read such papers as those on New-
man and Renan, Balfour's Foundations of Belief, The Rigidity
of Rome, Unchanging Dogma and Changeful Man, has long
been the same as to wish that these scattered chapters might
be put together and brought within easy reach of ourselves
and our friends.

Outside of the biographical sketches — very interesting they
are — the book deals with what might be described as a group
of connected philosophico-theological questions. It is in these
" Problems" that most of Mr. Ward's readers will no doubt be
interested ;. and to this part of the work our description will
be confined.

Accepting the evolutionary view of society and of human
knowledge as a new framework in which all our conceptions
must now be set, the author undertakes to discuss the confu-
sion into which this new conception has thrown the traditional
theology. His view-point is that of a man sympathetic with the
new learning, and at the same time profoundly loyal to the
old faith ; and in looking for a principle of conciliation, he hits
upon the universality of the law of development as a key to
the solution of present difficulties and as an eventual antidote
for doubt.

"The old idea of fixity, which did not look beyond the
tangible formuhv with their supposed unchangeable analysis, is
parted with. But another principle of persistency is disclosed

* PrviUmi'itnd Persons. By Wilfrid Ward. London, New York, and Bombay: Long-
mans, Green & Co.

788 WILFRID WARD'S " PROBLKSTT AiUL PERSONS." [Mar.,

in theology, as the lesson of religious history is mor^ and
more realized — the persistency of certain central religious ideas,
reappearing in more and more purified form under the influence
alike of an exacter knowledge of the world of fact, and of the
criticisms of the intellect and moral sense; and the persistency
of the law of development. According to this view the story
of Christian theology is seen to exhibit, in some degree, the
more general law which underlies the development of mono-
theism from the polytheistic mythologies, and the purifying
process whereby the Deity came to be conceived less and less
as a tribal God, with quasi* human purposes, more and more as
the embodiment of sanctity and the just Ruler of mankind."

It is in the endeavor to vindicate the Catholicity of this
conception that Mr. Ward discusses the Rigidity of Rome,
and points out that in so far as prevailing theology " may have
been seriously hostile to intellectual growth and assimilative
activity," the trouble is to be traced to the abnormal state of
Christendom during the last four centuries. He goes on to
explain that the normal application of the assimilative princi-
ple in the past augurs at least an equally generous application
in the future — a line of thought "which does not impair the
sacredness of the definitions' which have been called for by
successive emergencies, or of the truths which these definitions
were needed to protect. But it does present a view which
makes the acceptance of the definitions possible without the
acceptance of certain implications which may have been in the
minds of those who framed them — implications based on con-
ditions of culture and a conception of the universe which are
not our own." This shows "that we may accept old proposi-
tions as sacred and true, but with a new explication in those
incidental features in which they bear traces of an older civil-
ization."

What the author means is made unmistakably clear when
he tells us that his essays "may be regarded as a contribution
to that movement of thought among Catholics in France, Ger-
many, and America, as well as in our own land, which has
been for some years urging, as of vital importance, that the
positive sciences should take their full share in the further
development of theology, in so far as theology touches inciden-
tally those facts of which secular science takes cognizance. To
blend theology with these sciences is a no more unpromising

1904] Wilfrid Ward's "Problems and Persons." 789

I i9<

I task now than it once seemed to adapt to the philosophy of

I Aristotle— the bete noir of the early Fathers — the sacred science

of which the Fathers themselves were the most authoritative

I exponents."
Mr. Ward's hope of reconciling the unchangeable faith with
novel intellectual views is rested on the express conviction that
the more conservative theologians have not seen the full signi-
ficance of their own principles. Extensive and thorough assimi-
lation of the serious and mature achievements of the human
mind, of labors wrought by specialists in history, psychology,
and Biblical exegesis, is proposed as the chief intellectual remedy
for the spreading epidemic of doubt. The various essays aim
I at pointing out " defects of method which cramp the capabili-
ties of theological principle," and at drawing attention to "the
essential largeness of the capacities of Catholicism viewed histori-
cally." In a word, then, the volume before us is a suggested
via media whereby we may at one and the same time believe in
the Christian revelation — using it as a salutary check on scientific
extravagances — and in the methods of modern science and
criticism — ^using them as a salutary check on the excursions of
theologians beyond their province.

Such in brief is Mr. Ward's suggestion of a method of
adjustment for current difficulties. As may be seen at a glance,
it is but an application of that principle of doctrinal develop-
ment which has risen to so important a place in the years that
have elapsed since the publication of Newman's famous essay.
As the contribution of a highly educated mind, intimately
familiar with science and scientists, as well as with theology
and theologians, the pages before us deserve careful considera-
tion. At once they take their respectable place among the serious
publications of contemporary theological literature ; and, beyond
a doubt, the very fact that the author has written as he has
will be of help to many. Mr, Ward himself, with his tempered,
patient mind, would probably be among the first to add, that
his essay is intended and is necessitated to be something merely
provisional. How firm this via media will really prove, can
be determined best when it is tested by the heavy tread of dis-
senting critics.

One such critic has already presented himself in the person
of Father Tyrrell, who on several occasions — including a letter
to the Tablet and an article in the Month — has declared the

790

DENIAL.

[Mar.,

suggested via media to be an impossible theory. Oddly enough,
the reason for its rejection is this: that to admit scientific con-
clusions as a check on the conservatism of Catholic theology
will be fatal to the very existence of that theology ; while, on
the other hand, theology's claim of special supernatural charis-
mata for the authority which superintends doctrinal development
is utterly foreign to the presuppositions used by critical science
in working out the religious philosophy of humanity. The
solution of the dilemma presented by the opposition between
science and theology cannot, therefore, in Father Tyrrell's
judgment, be found in the principle of development of ideas,
for the reason that said principle is all dominating in liberal or
<:ritical theology, and limited by authority in the case of Catho-
lic theology. Nor could Newman himself have been unaware
of the difficulties and objections left unanswered by the theory
he propounded. These must be held in mind by all writers ^
who, like Mr. Ward, follow in the footsteps of Newman. Father
Tyrrell raises the question " whether in principle Mr. Ward (or
Newman in the Essay of 1845) ^^.s really departed from the
position of those whom he considers as ultra-conservative; fl
whether de jure he is really in the middle at all, and not still
at the extreme right"

DENIAL.

BY RHODA WALKER EDWARDS.

I ATHEIST :

Arrogant in the impotence of your conceit,
Tell me — before you banish God from all His Universe-
Tell me the measure of a man.
What is it that becomes incarnate at his birth?
And what the dissolution, known as death?

Read first yourself —
And when the riddle of your own existence you have solved,

Then fathom God.

1904.] ENGLISH BIBLE BEFORE THE REFORMATION. 791

THE ENGLISH BIBLE BEFORE THE REFORMATION.

BY THE REVEREND GEORGE JOSEPH REID.

jT is a common assumption among Protestants that
the religious revolution of the sixteenth century
first opened to the people the pages of Holy
Writ, hitherto shut up in the Latin Vulgate — a
sealed book to all but the clergy and the learned
few. The translation of the Bible into the vernacular, authorized
by the Catholic Church, has been regarded as a late and reluc-
tant concession to a popular demand inaugurated by the Prot-
estant Reformation. It is well worth while to inquire how far
these ideas square with historical facts, but the question will
be discussed by the present writer only in so far as it con-
cerns the Bible in English.

English as a national language dates from the fourteenth
century; it was not until 1363 that Parliament was opened with
an English address. But already there had been Anglo-Saxon
and Norman-French translations of the Gospels, Psalms, and
other parts of Holy Writ, and there exists at least one Anglo-
Norman manuscript containing an almost complete version,
made in England before 136 1. It is one of the treasures of
the National Library, Paris, and is marked No. i.

There is every reason to believe that the doing of the
whole Bible into English, in the fourteenth century, was
primarily the natural response to a demand following upon the
nationalization of the English language. If Wyclif and his
followers — as we do not concede — really were the first to render
the whole Scriptures into the vulgar tongue, they would merely
have seized the opportune moment, and achieved something
which would inevitably have been presently done by scholars
of orthodox faith. Nor is this a mere hypothesis; the analogy
of other countries gives the assertion substantial support. A
century before Wyclif, the University of Paris, aided by St.
Louis' royal patronage, had accomplished the first complete
version into French.* It is, moreover, certain that more than

I vo:

*As Krnyon recognizes in Our Bible and the Ancitnt Maniiicripd, p. 198.
VOL. LXXVIlh — 51

792 English Bible before the Reform ation, [Mar.,

one German translation of the entire Scriptures existed, not only
before Luther but even before the invention of printing.*

Bearing in mind that these translations were made under
Catholic auspices, we may well ask ; Must those forerunners of
English Protestantism, Wyclif and his disciples, be awarded
the exclusive credit for the pre- Reformation English Bible? Is
it certain that their version was not preceded, or at least
accompanied, by others which were the work of men of ortho-
dox belief, and which enjoyed at least the tacit approval of
ecclesiastical authority ? There are grave reasons to doubt the
claim ff^r the Lollards. Of the hundred and seventy manuscripts
surviving, alleged to be copies of the Wyclifite Bible, only two
are related by contemporaneous notes to Wyclil's followers. It
would take a careful and toilsome comparison of the text of
the others to prove that all the rest are copies of the older
and later editions of Wyclif's Bible, represented respectively by
the Hereford and Purvey manuscripts. The problem grows in
interest when we find that several of the existing " Wyclifiie "
manuscript Bibles were in olden times in the possession and
use of personages who have never been suspected of Lollard-
ism. One was owned by that devout and enthusiastic Catholic,
Henry VI. Another of excellent workmanship and illumirattd
with the royal arms found place in the library of Henry VII.
A third belonged to the Duke of Gloucester, the firm friend of
Archbishop Arundel, Wyclif's constant antagonist. Other copies
are known to have been the property of heresy- hunting bishops
and pious nuns. Old documents and chronicles reveal the fact
that shortly after John Wyclif's death, and during the fiihctrih
century, bequests of the Gospels in English to Catholic churches,
priests, and convents were no uncommon occurrences.!

So cogent is this evidence that some present-day Protest-
ant scholars have been fain to admit that while the English
Church persecuted Wyclif and his opinions, they spared his
Bible and tolerated its circulation, as no polemical bias appears
in the translation. Thus Dr. Kenyon remarks:

"It is only in rhetorical passages that the picture has bem
drawn of the hunted Wyclifite writing bis copy of the English

* See Walther's Dtulsckt Bibtluthtrsttsungen dts Sfitttialiers , Brunswick, 1889-92.

t Sec Tht Old £H,i'/ijk Dibit, Ijy ihe leamed English Benedictine, Father Gasquct ; London.
Niinnio, 1897, pp. 138^. To this work Ihe writer is largely indebted for the maleriaJs of this
article.

I
I

1904.] English Bible before the Reformation, "j^^i

Bible in his obscure cottage in constant fear of surprise and
arrest" {Bible and Ancient MSB., p. 206).

Apparently the Rev. Dr, Fox, secretary of the American
Bible Society, was indulging in one of these rhetorical flights
(inducing forgetfulness of the date of the discovery of printing)
when he wrote recently, in the New York Observer (December
10, 1903):

" The Protestants — that is, the Lollards — of his (Wyclifs)
day had his translation a century before Henry VIII. It could
not be printed, and was not until long after his death, by
reason of the same intolerant spirit which modern apologists for
Rome exhibit, even while they deny that it ever existed. He
succeeded, however, in giving his translation a considerable cir-
culation in manuscript, and we need not rehearse how his body
was dug up and burned and his ashes cast into the Swift, a
neighboring brook,"

It is refreshing to hear from such fair minded writers as
Mr. Kenyon and Mr. F. D. Matthew, • a student of Wyclifite
literature, the admission that the church in Wyclifs age and
after did not suppress the Scriptures in the vernacular, carrying
its toleration even to the limits of allowing the diffusion of the
Bible of the heresiarch and his disciples. But if we concede
the latter anomaly we must go further. Mere toleration will
not explain the possession of English copies of the Sacred
Scriptures by good Catholics after 1408. For in this year the
provincial council of Oxford had dealt with LoUardism, and
among other decrees enacted the following:

" We therefore command and ordain that henceforth no one
translate any text of Holy Scripture into English or any other
language in a book, booklet, or tract, and that no one read any
book, booklet, or tract of this kind lately made in the time of
the said John Wyclif or since, or that hereafter may be made
either in part or wholly, either publicly or privately, under
pain of excommunication, until such translation shall have been
approved and allowed by the diocesan of the place, or (if need
be) by the Provincial Council. He who shall act otherwise let
him be punished as an abettor of heresy and error." f

Those Catholics, then, who thereafter had the English

• Eng. Hist, Rei-itw, January, 1895.
f WiJkins'Co/>r*//a Magna BritlaHut, iii. p, 317,

794 English Bible before the Reformation. [Mar.,

Scriptures— such as William Revetour, a priest of York whcm
we find bequeathing Such a copy in 1446 — must be supposed to
have had a version which was formally approved by the bishop
of the diocese.

We therefore are confronted by a dilemma. Either, against
ftU analogies, the Lollard Bibles were tolerated by the rulers
of the Knglish Church before the Synod of Oxford, and in
some cases positively sanctioned after it, or there existed a
version or versions of Catholic origin, made before, or con-
temporaneously with Wyclif, since we find copies in the pos-
ROttion of the orthodox during and shortly after Wyclii's
career. I prefer to believe the latter. It is a violent stretch
ol the probabilities to suppose that Lollard versions of the
»8crlptiircji were sanctioned, or even tolerated, by vigilant pastors
of tho ICnglish Church in an age when Lollardism was vigor-
uuttly attacked, and when the civil powers lent a strong hand
to iti suppression. The spirit of the ecclesiastical rulers in
this regartl may be seen in a letter of Archbishop Arundel of
Canterbury to Pope John XXIH. in I4i2> containing a long _
Hat of propositions extracted from Wyclif's works and con- f
demned by a commission of Oxford theologians. Among other
observations the primate wrote as follows :

" He (Wyclif) even tried, by every means in his power, to
undermine the very faith and teaching of Holy Church, fill-
ing up the measure of his malice by devising the expedient of
a neiv translation of the Scripture in the mother tongue " (Wil-
kins, op. cit. iii. 350),

Taken in their obvious natural sense, these words imply that
there had been an older translation of the Bible in English,
but I wish also to emphasize the point that their spirit is
very hard to reconcile with an approval of Wyclifite Bibles
in Catholic hands. To the first- mentioned implication of the
letter of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Sir Thomas More
brings further testimony. In controversy with Tyndal, he
wrote in his Dialogues (p. 138, ed- 1530):

" As for old translations before Wyclif's time, they remain
lawful and in some folks' hands. Myself have seen and can
shew you Bibles, fair and old, in English, which have been known
and seen by the Bishop of the Diocese and left in laymen's
hands and women's."

I
I

1904.] ENGLISH Bible before the reformation. 795

This evidence is corroborated by the reformer Cranmer,
who wrote thus in defence of the Scriptures in English in
the prologue to the second edition of the Great Bible:

" If the matter shouid be tried by custom, we might also
allege custom for the reading of the Scripture in the vulgar
tongue, and prescribe the more ancient custom. For it is not
much above one hundred years ago since Scripture hath not
been accustomed to be read in the vulgar tongue within this
realm, and many hundred years before it was translated and
read in the Saxon's tongue, which in that time was our mother
tongue, and when this language waxed old and out of common
usage, because folk should not lack the fruit of new reading it
was again translated into the newer language, whereof yet also
many copies remain and be daily found."

So intensely Protestant a writer as Foxe, the martyrologist,
says in dedicating his edition of the Saxon Gospels to Arch-
bishop Parker :

" If histories be well examined we shall find both before
the Conquest and after, as well before John Wyclif was born
as since, the whole body of the Scriptures was by sundry
men translated into our mother tongue."

The force of all the evidence warrants the contention that
the Lollard leaders were preceded by good Catholics in the
translation of the Vulgate into English.

This said, it is only in accordance with historical analogies
to recognize that the Wyclifite Bible found its way into many
hands hitherto without a vernacular version. Doubtless the
Lollards would he active in using the new translation, clothed
in popular language, as an entering wedge and aid in the
propagation of their tenets. But the circulation of the whole
Bible must always have been extremely limited before the art
of printing. The labor and expense of manuscript copies was
prohibitive to the masses. And if the Bible was chained to
the walls of churches and monasteries in mediaeval times, it
was that all who could read might glean from the complete
form of the written Word, inaccessible otherwise.

It is fair to grant, moreover, that the Oxford decree acted
as a check upon its translation and circulation of the vernacu-
lar Scriptures. Thereafter there seems to have been no general
sanction in England of any Catholic version up to the appear-

796 English Bible before the reformation. [Mar.,

ance of the Douay, and while the having and reading of the
pre-WycHfite copies were unrestricted by law, the approval of
translations made during or after Wyclif's time was left to the
discretion of individual bishops.

It was undoubtedly due to the proselytizing use of the
Lollard versions, and the consequent qualified prohibition of
national synod, that England had no printed Catholic Scriptures
with native tongue until the publication of the Rheims (Douay)
New Testament in 1582. In Germany, where heresy was as
yet absent, and conditions more favorable, twenty- four complete
editions of the Bible were printed in the comparatively short
interval between the invention of printing and the outbreak of
the Lutheran revolt. In France the first complete printed
Bible appeared simultaneously with Luther's, in 1523.

St. Paul Seminary, St. Paul, Minn.

1904.]

Marriage under the Black 'Pines.

797

MARRIAGE UNDER.THE BLACK PINES.

BY E. C. VANSITTART.

ERHAPS in no great |event of life common to all
mankind, whatever be their race and tongue^ do
individual customs vary so much as in those
connected with courtship and marriage. Each
country jealously clings to and preserves its
own special time-honored traditions long after, in other impor-
tant matters, it has fallen in with the march of the times, and
conformed to the usages which are gradually levelling all
civilized communities into one uniform plane.

This is specially true of peasant life in the Black Forest,
where the patriarchal character of life in a general, and matri-
mony in a special degree, is very marked, and has been care-
fully described by a son of the soil, the Rev, Hans-Jacob,
from whose various writings I gathered much of what follows,
and found that many striking peculiarities which startled me as
a visitor to the country are simply due to the survival of the
strict family laws to which this most interesting writer al-
ludes.

On the large farms, termed Hof, some of which have de-
scended from father to son in direct succession for over four
hundred years, the wealthy farmers are called " Princes," and
speak of their dependents as "my people," never as "my men
and maids." Down in the valley live the weavers, shoemakers,
tailors, and laborers, the " PUbs*' ; up on the heights dwell
the aristocracy of the peasant population, who nevertheless
remain nothing but peasants. Most picturesque arc these huge
old buildings, with their slanting, overhanging roofs, from under
which the small windows look out like deep-set eyes, and the
great barns and outhouses stand round about, while as far as
the eye can reach over acres and acres of meadow, cornfields,
and cultivated land, the Biir (farmer) looks on his own
property. From morning to evening these wealthy farmers
toil in the fields with their laborers, and it is difficult to dis-
tinguish master from man, while indoors the Bilrin (farmer's

798. Marriage under the Black Pines. [Mar.,

wife) does the whole of the cooking for the household, and
puts her hand to every department of house and dairy- work,
along with her maids. All work hard, but on the weekly mar-
ket day the Bilr and his wife, attired in their best clothes,
alone drive to the nearest village or town, and there meet their
neighbors, transact business, and then feast on Brotis (roast
veal), while the rest of the household remains at home follow-
ing the daily round.

But though, from this account, the grandeur of a Biir and
Burin may not appear to be very striking, intricate diplomatic
negotiations haye to take place before a Princess can be
allowed to enter another Hof. These lie in the hands of
ambassadors and diplomatic agents wbo are often far better
informed than those in high political circles. They consist of
the tailors and shoemakers from the village below, who, as a
rule, visit each Hof three or four times a year, and remain a
week, plying their trade, and fitting out the family. On Sun-
days they are treated as honored guests, and dine at the Hof-
tafel. Thus wandering from one great farm to another all over
the country-side, they are intimately acquainted with every
detail concerning the property, the parents, and their children.
Another valuable emissary is the butcher, who comes once a
week in search of fat calves, pigs, and oxen. He generally
arrives at an hour when all the men are in the fields, and find-
ing the Burin alone in the Stube, he enters on a friendly gos-
sip with her, while waiting for the master of the house ; and
as he sips his glass of Chriesewasser (cherry- brandy) lets fall
information concerning the neighboring households, knowing,
as he does, all about rich sons and daughters. Best of all is
he acquainted with the stables and the quantity and quality
of live stock ; on this account, his opinion bears great weight
with the Biir. The final agent is the village weaver, who, late
in the autumn, com^s up the hill with his hackle to turn the
BUrin's flax into " Riste" as it is called, and make it ready
for spinning.

So, when a Bur's son enters a Hof, and asks leave to court
the daughter of the house, her father is well informed as to
every particular concerning him, since, for years past, he has
known from his agents how things stand with his neighbors.
The daughter is never consulted ; when a suitor appears, which
generally happens on a Sunday, her father merely announces

1904.]

Marriage under the Black Pines.

799

I
I

to him, over a glass of Chriesewasser, " I *11 come with the
maid next Thursday, and look around."

On the appointed day, the Maidie puts on her Sunday
clothes, and walks beside her (ather up hill and down dale in
silence. If the girl's father happens to be dead» it is her
Gbtti (godfather) to whom this office falls. On reaching their
destination, after a short exchange of civilities, the review of the
property, on the result of which so much depends, takes place.
In passing, the Biir has glanced at the great dung-heap in
front of the house ; its appearance is not without importance,
for should it be neatly plaited it betokens order, and adds a
favorable point to first impressions. The stables are visited
first, and the cattle carefully examined. Black Forest farmers
do not approve of much talking in a stable, and have a strong
dislike to any animal being praised ; in this they resemble the
ancient Greeks of Homer's time, who avoided lavish praise lest
it might arouse the envy of the gods. Therefore, when any
one ignorant of this prejudice remarks: "That's a fine cow!"
the Biir instantly exclaims : " God protect her I " The proper
thing on entering a stable is to say: " Gliick im Stall" and
after that to keep silent. The prospecting Biir, closely followed
by his daughter, especially notes whether the owner goes in
for Ufsiiglinge " / that is, for rearing young cattle for the
market; such stock is a sure sign of affiuence, for, as is well
known, the farmer in want of money sells his calves. From
the stables they proceed to the Spicker, the treasury of every
farmer in the Black Forest. Beside each Hof, but standing by
itself, rises a solidly built store-house, whose roof is never
thatched, but covered with slates in case of fire. Here the
Biirs treasures are heaped up : cherry and plum-brandy, fruit,
hams, fiitches of bacon, flax, hemp, butter, lard, sausages, beans,
wheat, barley, etc. His money, tied up in a pig's skin, is kept
in a chest beside his bed, but the key of the Spicher is always
carried in the inner pocket of his coat, together with his prayer-
book, even when he goes to church or to market. The Spicher
and the stables are the best guarantee of the prosperity of their
owners, and from the appearance of these two it is easy to
measure the size of the property, and the quality and quantity
of its produce; therefore the "look round'" is chiefly confined
to them.

If the visitor be satisfied, he invites his future son-in-law

«oo Marriage under the Black Pines. [Mar.,

to come on a certain day to settle finally, for the Biir never
decides weighty questions by himself; he must talk them over
with his wife, and hear her opinion. Should she consent, the
girl is promised to the young man when he presents himself.
As a rule, the bride is not even asked whether her suitor and
her future home have pleased her, aor would she dream of ex-
pressing an opinion; she knows she will be well provided for,
and that she is going to reign over a fine domain, and this
amply satisfies her. If, on the other hand, her father leaves
with the words : " I' 11 let you know what I decide," matters
look bad, and the final decision in this case is almost invariably
negative.

The chief question having been satisfactorily settled, the
parties concerned go on the following day to a notary in the
nearest Stddle, in order to have the Hirotk (marriage contract)
drawn up. On the third day the priest is interviewed, and
immediately after the host of the village inn is called upon to
settle about the marriage feast, for the wedding will take place
in three weeks, long engagements being unknown in the Black
Forest.

The task of carrying the invitations by word of mouth is
entrusted to a poor peasant or tailor, ready to earn a few
groschen in this way, who keeps his ears open the whole year
round on the chance of such employment turning up, and
scarcely has the marriage contract been signed than one appears
early the next morning in the homes of both bride and groom.
Here each messenger is given an artificial nosegay to stick in
his hat; the bride fastens a sprig of rosemary — the peasant's
favorite flower — in his buttonhole, and off he starts to recite
the following time-honored formula in each house he visits:

" Worthy friends and neighbors, I trust you will not resent
my entering your room without first asking your leave, but I
come not on my own behalf, but on that of two honorable
persons about to be joined together in Holy Matrimony. I am
sent to you as good friends and neighbors by the lionorable
youth, , son of , in , and by the hon-
orable and modest maiden, his bride, , to invite you

to their wedding, which will take place next Thursday at

. So I invite you all most heartily, Bur and Burin, all

your sons and daughters, all your men and maids, all your
field-hands and day-laborers, high and low, young and old.

1904.]

Marriage under the Black Pines.

801

married and single. The maidens will wear their wreaths, and
precede the wedding guests to the bride's house, in order to
assist at the church service. God grant the young pair a good
beginning and a happy end ! God the Father instituted mar-
riage in the Garden of Eden, therefore this marriage will be

blessed by the Herr Pfarrer in , and when the bond has

been ratified, and the priest has poured holy water over them,
we will go together to the praiseworthy Crown Inn, there to
eat and enjoy the marriage feast. May God Almighty bless
and sanctify it! The host says he is prepared with good food
and good wine, and will serve each guest so well that he shall
have no cause for complaint. Then we will sing and dance till
the stars pale in the heavens. Meanwhile, as marriage guests,
I wish you all much happiness and blessing, and after this life
joy and peace : this grant us, God the Father, God the Son,
and God the Holy Spirit."'

The messenger receives, in payment of his services, four or
five pence at every house, a glass of beer or wine at the inns,
a bit of bacon or a bottle of cherry brandy at the farms.

Meanwhile the parish priest has published the banns in
church: it is customary that when he announces, " N. N. are
about to be joined together in marriage," every one present
bows the knee, and this is repeated at each name. The even-
ing before the wedding the so-called " Sckiipeihirse*' takes
place at the bride's house. '* Schapel" is a corruption of the
old French word chapel, meaning a wreath of flowers and
leaves; it is also applied to the peculiar head-dress worn by
the bride in some parts of the Black Forest. This strange
ornament resembles a turban, and is composed of glittering
stones, gilt leaves, and brilliant glass balls. The bridegroom
and his friends arrive at the Hof of the bride, who has invited
all her friends, A musician with a clarinet also attends. A
lavish meal is served, commencing with roast beef and Niideln ;
afterwards the guests dance. Finally, at midnight, the Schiipel-
hirse appears, consisting of a dish of millet- porridge crowned
by as many twigs of rosemary as will represent the bride-
groom's friends. In the middle of the Brei a taller twig than
the rest stands upright ; this is destined for the bridegroom^
but no sooner has he stretched out his hand to take it, than
one of his companions sitting round the table beats his hand
back into the Btei ; the same thing happens to each in turn

MARRIAGE UNDER THE BLACK PiNES.

[Mar..

not eaten, but the
each owner. This

before he can secure his twig. The Bret is
rosemary twigs are stuck into the hat of
ends the festivities of the wedding eve.

On the morning of the day itself, ere the procession starts
for churchy the bride and groom step before their respec-
tive parents, thank them for all the benefits they have received
from them since their childhood up to that hour, and ask for
their blessing. Then the messenger who took round the invi-
tations comes forward, and, in the name of the guests who
have breakfasted at the bride's house, says : " Honored wed-
ding guests, we have eaten and drunk, and hereby tender thanks
(or what we have received. Now we will accompany the bridal
pair to church, and before the altar, where, in the presence of
the priest, they will enter on the holy sacrament of marriage,
we will help them to ratify it, and pray God Almighty to send
down the dew of heaven upon them in blessing, that he may
blesa them with temporal and spiritual blessingSj and that they
may live to rejoice in their children's children. To this end
help us, God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy
Spirit."

After this speech five " Paters " and the Creed are repeated,
followed by two more " Paters " for the souls of the nearest
deceased relatives of the bridal pair. At the house door each
one present offers holy water to the young pair from the stoup
which hangs at the entrance of every Hof.

During the service the godfather always stands beside the
bride, and the lights burning on the altar are closely watched
by all during the ceremony, for death will come first to the one
standing on the side where the taper burns dimmest.

From the church they proceed to the Tanzboden (dance-
floor), heralded by the local musicians, generally two clarinets,
two violins, and a horn, both players and instruments being
gaily decked with red ribbons. On reaching a bare barn, with
pine-wood floor prepared for the occasion, the Vor-tans is danced
by the bridal pair alone, with their maids and grooms of honor.
After this they proceed to the marriage-dinner, each guest
having previously offered a gift, either money or a piece of
home^spun linen. The dinner is a lengthy affair, not only on
account of the number of dishes served, but because a dance
lakes place between each course. The bill of fare has been
unvaried tor centuries, and consists of two soups, followed by

*I904.]

Marriage under the Black Pines.

803

roast beef with vegetables ; then the principal dish — stewed
beef with Nudeln and Gugelholpf. Were this wanting at a
wedding, it would be looked upon as a serious misfortune.
Ham with sauerkraut and sausages, veal and salad, baked calves'
feet with stewed prunes, succeed one another, and finally another
soup- — though of late coffee is sometimes substituted. After the
principal dish has been served, before beginning the next dance,
the bride and groom go round and clink glasses with each guest,
he carrying the bottle and she the glass, which she offers to
each with the words : " I will i's brocht ha."

The dancing is kept up till late. When twenty or more
couples are dancing, the whole barn sways and trembles, for the
Biirs stamp with their feet and rush round as though a regi-
ment of cuirassiers was galloping across ; besides this, they
shout till the walls resound. But everything comes to an
end, and as carriage after carriage drives off, the newly mar-
ried pair come out and hand up a final drink, while the musi-
cians blow a special blast. This farewell glass goes by the
name of " St. Johannes' Segen " (St. John's blessing), and many
a tear falls when it is the turn of the father or mother to take
a last leave of their child before she drives off to her new
home.

Next morning the young pair have to be up by cock-crow,
for, according to a time-honored custom, they must assist at a
Mass said for their departed relatives in their village church.
Thus, in deep meaning, is the fulness of life linked to the
memory of the dead. After this the innkeeper's score is paid,
and they return to their No/, where the prose of life begins ;
but as both have entered upon matrimony without poetry, they
do not dread the prose, but accept life as it comes from God's
hand, with its sunshine and its shadows.

8o4 THE "Patronages" in France. [Mar.,

THE "PATRONAGES" IN FRANCE.

BY M. DE LA FONTAINE.

MODERN Catholics are excellent in private life, but
in public they fail. For there they are always,
and everywhere, forestalled, overreached, and
duped by their rivals, their antagonists, and
their oppressors."
Thus exclaimed the French orator Montalembert, a few years
before the outbreak of the Franco- Russian war; and the same
might unfortunately, with equal truth, be repeated to-day.
More than this ; it might be said, that if the bulk of the French
nation is thoroughly indifferent in matters of religion, it is
because their clergy has not understood how to direct, rather
than to combat, the tendencies of our time towards socialism.
But in 1884 appeared an encyclical of Pope Leo XIII.
which awoke the slumbering clergy of France, and broke the
spell which fettered its powers. " The king is God's anointed '*
had until then been their maxim. " God and the king " had
been the battle-cry of France. Can it be wondered at if, find-
ing themselves unable to resist the Republic, priests and bishops
should have stood on one side, hoping and waiting for better
days ; while the torrent of impiety rolled along, ever widening
and gaining strength as it passed on, unchecked and un-
heeded.

But, luckily for France, Pope Leo intervened, and by urging
all Catholics to adhere to the Republic, freed the members of
the clergy from a loyalty which hampered their energies ; while
at the same time, by his advice, he induced them to enter the
lists against socialism and to devote united and well-directed
efforts to the regaining of their lost influence over the people.
It was in order to do this with the greater success that, for
the first time in French history, a congress was held at Reims
in 189(5, at which priests from every part of France were invited
to be present, for the purpose of studying the Pope's encycli-
cals, and of debating on the best way of executing his wishes.
In this congress social questions were more especially examined^

The ''Patronages" in France.

805

and all that had been done in that line either criticised or
held up for imitation ; the worlc^ however, to which every cure
was recommended to devote his attention was that of the
" Patronage de la jeunesse." A Patronage is a Catholic club
for boys which is founded in a parish by the cur^, and placed
by him under the protection or patronage of some popular
saint- Hence the name Patronage. The origin of the Patron-
age is shrouded in obscurity, but towards the middle of the
last century several parish priests, or cures as they are called
in France, began to invite young men of the poorer classes to
their rooms, in order to keep them out of the streets during
their leisure hours.

It is said that the child is father to the man, and the atheists
know this as well as the Catholics; hence the modern govern-
ment school from which religion is now completely banished.
Fortunately, however, for the children of the poor, even the
most indifTerent mother in France insists upon her boy making
his First Communion, and for that purpose she willingly sends
him after school hours to be taught his catechism by the
priest. Scarcely, however, has the child reached that momen-
tous epoch of his life, and learned something of his duty to
God and to his neighbor, than his school- days are over, and at
the early age of thirteen he is sent to some shop, some firm or
manufactory, where he is thrown among companions older
than himself, who have long, ago ceased to practise their
religion.

Then it is, however, that the Patronage appears as a refuge,
where the boy who has resolved to keep straight in life meets
with a friend and adviser in the priest, and can mingle once
more with companions who, like himself, hear Mass on Sundays
and go to Communion.

I have used the expression a *' club " for boys, but a Patron-
age differs from an ordinary club, inasmuch as that the mem-
bers pay no subscription, and are not bound down by written
rules, — only three strict conditions indeed being everywhere
required of the boys : namely, that they should hear Mass on
Sundays, go to Communion at Easter, and not belong to any
other association. An ordinary club, there is no doubt, would
long ago have been suppressed by the government, as being
connected with politics, and more than one mayor of a com-
mune has tried to put down the Patronage ; the latter, how-

8o6

THE "Patronages" in France.

[Mar.,

ever, having always come off victorious, as hitherto no law has
been passed which forbids & man entertaining his friends of an
afternoon or evening.

A cure, then, who wishes to be the founder of a Patronage
begins, as has been already mentioned, by inviting a few of the
boys whom he has taught to come on Sundays and Thursdays
to the presbytery. There he does his best to amuse and inter-
est them, reading out to them, it may be, during the dark hours
of winter, and taking them out for walks as the summer draws
near. If the boys attend these evenings, and some of their
friends join them, the cure looks out for larger rooms and,
where this is possible, for a playground. In the country this
is, of course, comparatively easy, the cure having a garden
which he sacrifices to his boys, while an outhouse or barn may
be fitted up for their meetings. In the town the expense is
greater ; but in no case can a Patronage be successful without
the help of charitable outsiders. For if the boys are to be
attracted, and their interest sustained, books and games of
various sorts must be bountifully supplied them. Thus, croquet
or a trapeze should appear in the playground, dominoes,
draughts, and pufT-billiards in the room where they meet, while
as the boys grow older a French billiard table is regarded as
being an essential acquisition.

* Boys, however, as may be supposed, more especially the
older lads, would easily tire of the games of the Patronage had
not enterprising cures discovered how to interest them in pur-
suits of a more intellectual character. With a harmonium at
hand, for instance, it was found to be easy to form a choir,
while a brass band under a musical director has been known
to produce wonderful results. Theatricals, too, are extremely
popular, and have the added advantage of pleasing the parents;
for several times a year plays are acted by the boys, to which
are invited their friends and relations.

One of the difficulties which the cure has to overcome, in
the task he has so courageously undertaken, is the want of
regularity in the boys' attendance at the Patronage. In order,
therefore, to stimulate their zeal, rewards, in the shape of ties,
studs, and other similar objects, are bestowed upon them, and
laid out on a table for selection — the first choice being natu-
rally given to the boy who has most frequently been present
at the meetings. This faithfulness in attending is easily proved

I
I
I

1904]

The "Patronages*' in France.

807

by tickets or counters, which each boy may earn^ either by
hearing Mass on a Sunday or by spending the evening at the
Patronage. These tickets are also awarded for good conduct,
or forfeited by disobedience, and are not to be despised; a
larger number of tickets conferring upon their possessor such
appreciated advantages as the first right to the billiard table,
etc. This system of rewards is> however, not followed in every
Patronage; neither are the boys always interested in the same
pursuits. Much depends upon the class of lads with whom
the priest has to deal, as also upon the capabilities of the
worthy cure himself. In many of the smaller villages also,
and in the humbler parishes of the towns, benefactors are
unfortunately few and far between, and many a Patronage has
come to naught for want of the necessary funds.

How to render efficient help to these poorer foundations,
was one of the many subjects discussed by the congress of
1896, and an examination of the good work already accom-
plished brought to light the superior organization of the
Patronages of Nancy.

Nancy is the ancient capital of Lorraine, the native prov-
ince of Joan of Arc, and one of the most Catholic parts of
France ; while Mgr, Turinaz is well known as a zealous partisan
of the persecuted congregations. It is, therefore, not to be won-
dered at if, in this diocese, charitable works should be carried
out with a method and perfection unknown elsewhere, and that
the Patronages, instead of being left solely to the initiative of
the cures, should have been placed under the supervision of a
board of administration, presided over by the bishop himself.
The members of this board are selected by the bishop, and they,
in their turn, appoint for every canton a delegate, whose busi-
ness it is to keep in touch with the parishes,^ — to control, encour-
age, and assist the Patronages, and to make an annual report to
the board on the work done during the year.

In other parts of France, again, a central committee has been
created, which has at its disposal a circulating library, and a
provision of games, both indoor and outdoor, for the use of the
Patronages. The funds of this committee are generally supplied
by regular subscriptions. Where these committees do not ex-
ist, however, the priest who is in want of help for his work
need not despair, but may have recourse to other charitable
societies, such as those of St. Vincent of Paul and of St. Francis

VOL. LXXVlll, — §2

8o8

The "Patronages" in France.

[Mar.,

of Sales; or he may write to the "Bureau Central des Patron-
ages/' founded in Paris by Mgr. de Segur.

Money, moreover, is not the only factor in a work under-
taken solely for the salvation of souls. Tact, intelligence, and
apostolic zeal, — these are all required from the director of a
Patronage; while in parishes where the cure cannot devote
enough of his time to the boys^ one of the " vicaires," or curates,
must necessarily take his place. And indeed it is worth the
trouble. For no half-heartedness can succeed in this grand work,
the hope of the Cafltmics in France. There are difficulties to
be met with and enemies to overcome, while even in the way
of amusement the fdunder of a Patronage can never hope to
compete with the tavern, the theatre, and even certain govern-
ment societies, which all enter the lists and are formidable evils.
Hut the priest must appeal to the higher nature of the boy;
Ktt n&ust touch the right chord of his heart, answer the demands
1^ hw intellect, and as the lad grows older excite his interest
\\\ the i]uestion5 of the day and teach him the true meaning of
|vAUt).^t>!tin. For the boy of thirteen has grown into a man^ and on
IkU »w«nty-ftrst birthday he wrings the priest's hand in affectionate
fi4«vwvU. his days at the Patronage being over. The soldier's
M«UU^<tiM awaits him now; he must go and serve France. But
\% wUI return. Will he ? The priest looks after him with
^dubt and anxiety. Temptations are many in the army. But
\y ho does come back, he will be a true Catholic — the right
h<^uU of the curd. May there be many such 1

Tut**, Fnmtt,

I
I

1904.]

JL. A k.« ^^Fl. I

FnoAf AN Old Man's Journal.

809

FROM AN OLD MAN'S JOURNAL.

BY BESSY BOYLE O'REILLY.

INING out last evening, the daughter of my old
friend Parkes sat opposite me. A slight inci-
dent that occurred at table, no doubt unnoticed
by any but myself, gave me a clue to what has
for a long time interested and eluded me.
Catherine Parkes, ten years ago, was so rare and lovely a girl,
that in my character of her father's friend, an elderly uncle as
it were, I watched her first steps in womanhood with affection-
ate concern. Her marriage came as a blow to those who
cared for her. John Wingate was a man to whom I could
wish no good woman to entrust her happiness. Since that
time I have heartlessly pried on the apparent tranquillity of
her married life, but Catherine has been sphinx-like in her
reserve. That so eager a nature should reach the apathy, the
aloofness shown in every glance and gesture, was an irresistible
problem for a man given to psychology.

She married Wingate in the belief that she could help him,
be of use in the world's struggle, one of the many consequences
of what I, of the old school, call this morbid introspective age.
She has done what she purposed ; she has helped him, one
can see she has been his inspiration. And, though to-day she
is as conscious as I that he was not worth the inspiring, it is
not in this knowledge that her disappointment lies. Her sense
that, with a mind attuned to every harmony; she has yet missed
the highest things of life, is not wholly due to her husband.
This was a conclusion I reached long ago, a theory which was
proved for me last evening.

My neighbor, an Englishwoman, spoke of the death of the
well-known writer, Powys Reeve; it had been cabled from
London that morning.

"Powys Reeve!" Mrs. Wingate exclaimed, in a tone that
to the others passed as natural interest, but to me, ever argus-
eyed with Catherine, held a note of deep emotion.

She sat silent when the conversation turned on Reeve and
his books; the general feeling was that his later works had

8lO FROM AN OLD MAN'S JOURNAL. [Mar.,

not fully carried out the promise of his earlier years, a super-
ficial criticism with which I disagreed. Some one asked if he
had been married, and on the Englishwoman replying no, the
strange smile on Catherine's lips, one in which I thought I read
sadness, touched with a melancholy confidence, led me on to
closer scrutiny.

Throughout the rest of the dinner her manner was one
which I have often remarked in her. She was present in
person, and her mind was sufi^ciently alert to let her inatten-
tion pass unnoticed ; but the essential something which makes
Catherine's individuality, had flitted away to another scene ;
• for me what remained was a mask.

On our return to the drawing-room I sought the arm-chair
beside Mrs. Wingate.

"Catherine," I said, "you are aware of my weakness — I aa
an inveterate old prien Tell me, how well did you know
Powys Reeve ? "

I could not startle her.

" My dear old friend," she answered gently, " your imagina-
tion will indeed have to build on little when I tell you that I
met Mr. Reeve but once. He took me in to dinner one night
in London. That is all."

But in her "that is all" lay such a wealth of memory that
I pursued my questions relentlessly. And Catherine, tired per-
haps of the iniier life unknown to any human being but her-
self, and moved by the death of this man who had meant so
' much in her existence, though only known for a few hours, at
length laid bare her lonely mind to me. With no emotion,
quietly; to her, feeling was over and done with, and her future
lay before her as uneventful and uninteresting as though her
' years were mine, instead of thirty less. If there had been a
time of struggle it was past, and I realized, with a sigh, that
in the passing the best of this fair young character had been
lost; she would never be the woman she had promised.

I write the story as I gather it from her, with all the
trivial details, but it is impossible for me to give the exquisite
' commentary made on the tale by her mere personal presence
- beside me. .

As she said, she had met him in London. After her engage-
ment to Wingate she had gone abroad with her aunt for her
trousseau ; and by a curious coincidence it was a letter of intro-

igo4.]

From an Old Man's Journal.

8[i

duction from me, to one of my Irish friends in Parliament,
that had brought them an invitation to dine at the House of
Commons. Not knowing at which door to seek admittance,
they had left it to the cabman's discretion, and had found them-
selves, on leaving the carriage, in a dark and windy hallway,
on a level with the river. Eager to see, even in its desolate
state, the well-known terrace, Catherine passed through the
open doorway leading to it, while her aunt went in search of
their missing host.

The thought that the quick step in the hall was his brought
her back from the terrace, and she went forward to meet him
without a touch of embarrassment. Though puzzled by the
sudden vision stepping from the darkness of the river, the man
hurrying by took her proffered hand with masculine readiness
— in no haste to check so alluring a mistake. I think the
familiar lines that have often haunted me in watching Catherine
must have come to him as he looked at her: "High grace, the
dower of queens, and therewithal some wood-born wonder's
sweet simplicity."

" We missed the door," Catherine consented to explain.

He smiled at her, enlightened. "I'm not Sir Lucius," he
said. " He was waiting above. He dashed down headlong
when he heard you were here. I, too, am a guest," he added,
as he led the way to one of the small dining-rooms overlooking
the Thames, where they found the rest of the party gathered.

Sir Lucius McBride, genial and overflowing with kindly
fun, was jesting away the awkwardness of the meeting.

" And when the news spread that I was to entertain two
lovely ladies from America — ■" he bowed his gallant white head
to her aunt.

" Not having yet met them," she demurred ; a logic on
which his merry Irish eye looked disapproval.

" Two beautiful ladies," he insisted ; " I was beset by these
men. I could not rid me of them. And it 's here we are at
last, three knights tilting for two fair dames,"

Blushing with pleasure, her sedate Puritan aunt was led to
the table. Catherine turned to her companion with a joyous
laugh. So it was a real thing, this Celtic wit and aptness;
this blarney that was not flattery, but whole-hearted in the
giving, and not to be withstood.

" Nothing in life so pleasant as keeping one's illusions," he
returned, as he quietly appropriated the seat on her right.

8 12 From an Old Man's Journal. [Mar.,

" But our waggish Sir Lucius fails in his duty. Though we 've
cordially shaken hands and laughed together, and though I 've
a hazy notion that in some former state of existence we were
great friends," he added with mock levity, " I must plead
ignorance of your present name and you of mine."

" Is that so very unusual ? " she asked.

" You mean we 're rather casual in our introductions ? "

" Not half so natural or generous about them as we ! "

" Ah, if we begin with comparisons, where shall we end ? "
he wailed humorously.

" Since I cannot claim one of your flower- like Englisk
names, what difference does it make?" laughed Catherine.
** I *m not a Daphne, a Vivian, or a Violet."

"But I heartily like your Margarets and your Catherines.
A tall, gracious New England maiden, with her level eyes, is
out of place as Violet. She 's too much of a woman. She 's
too — how shall I say it, — too self-sufficient?"

He smiled as he looked at her slender hand resting on the
table. He thought her the most charming woman he had ever
met. The naturalness of her manner, her fearlessness of mis-
interpretation — sign of purest breeding — delighted him. They
found themselves in unison from the first. They talked of
people, of life, of art, and through all ran a radical sympathy —
a harmony that led them on to test it further.

It is a pet theory of mine that strangers, thrown together
by a passing chance, sometimes reveal more of themselves than
they give to the closest friends. The feeling that this tall,
radiant girl instinctively divined his best, was a warning knowl-
edge which led him to speak with freedom and unrestraint.
Affinity is a hated, hackneyed term, but I stumble on it, in my
inability to find a better.

Catherine gave herself with keen enjoyment to this deep
draught of life, after the meagre sips of eveiy day. No sur-
prise in her aunt's eyes, no jocose allusion from Sir Lucius*
could check her absorption.

At lengrth they paused. With a sigh, unexplained to her-
self, that there were such men in the world, she came back to
earth ; he, with the thought in his mind of the evanescence of
it all; a thought which, he was conscious, never comes to
trouble youth and first enthusiasms. He felt the perfect accord-
ing moments were passing, to leave behind a regret that they
had ever been. This fair girl would return to her happy.

1904.] FROM AN Old Man's Journal. 813

probably brilliant, existence at home in the midst of that rush-
ing, nervous American life he found so impossible to appre-
hend with sympathy,

" Oh, I 'm insular," he told her frankly ; " a rover, yes.
But I always come back with a firmer conviction that we've
got the enjoyment of life down to a science in our little
island. Take the heavenly leisure of the country — its sports,
its gay house parties. Take the meeting of the pick of a
nation in one city."

" Oh, I know, I know ! But our life too is full and eager."

"Too eager; that's what I complain of," he laughed.

"Yet, if we miss a certain flavor, a poise, an age which you
have," said Catherine, " the consolation is we don't often know
it. Or, knowing it" — she added archly — "we may think we
have its equivalent in other ways."

They laughed. *' Comparisons again \ " he said.

Tanned and browned by the sun^ he had but lately returned
from an Alpine tour,

" Mountains are my passion," he told her — " a legitimate
one. I 'm half Welsh, you know. I love your glorious
Rockies."

"When one is touched with the fever for them it lasts!"
she returned.

" Ah ! you know the longing ? " he cried, " One can't
withstand it. Such a glow at the thought of the great rugged
things ! Torrents, ravines, crags — silly poetry words till you
yourself learn their meaning."

" But you must leave the beaten road to get their best,"
said Catherine,

" Have you ever followed a rough pass — traced back a
brook?" he asked. "Better than all, lost yourself on the
broad, stretching top of a mountain — then you know it ! "

" So few care for the discomfort," she regretted, and gave
him a great heart-beat at the prospect of a mountain tramp
with her.

They touched on English politics, on national traits. He
praised his native Wales ; and with seeming irrelevance, asked
if she could read George Meredith.

"But you have made me afraid of a jar," she said. "Sup-
posing that you are not enthusiastic ? "

" Which means you are ? "

" Oh, thoroughly, thoroughly 1 "

Sl4

FROM AN Old Man's journal.

[Mar.,

"Yes, a master," he said — "a great mind and heart."

"The greatest since Shakspere ! " she glowed with womanly
exaggeration. " I would rather meet him than any one in
England."

" Bravo [ That 's real appreciation. I '11 tell him."

"You know him?" Catherine cried.

"A good friend," he returned. "But tell me, there's a
young protege of his in fiction — not so young either," he hesi-
tated, and looked at her with a gleam of boyish mischief.
"Have you read anything of his? I mean Powys Reeve?"

" Ah, I hope he is not a favorite of yours ! "

" Beware, beware — the jar I " he warned in comical dismay.

" I 'm sorry. It will have to come," laughed Catherine, " for
I detest your Powys Reeve."

" Don't quite detest him," he begged, the fun in his eyes
giving place to a disconcerted surprise. He straightened him-
self with a grim laugh.

" The absurd part is I read him," she explained. He looked
at her blankly.

" I 've never met him," she went on — " never even met any
one who knew him And yet — it sounds paradoxical — my dis-
like could only be called a personal one."

" Personal ?"^ — -bewilderment was in his question.

" Ah, but why talk of him ? " Catherine exclaimed.

" You think he has no talent ? " he tried to grope his way.
" Even more — some give him."

" No, he has not genius," she said with simple decision.

" I acknowledge it," he returned. " Oh, he 's honest and
knows it himself, in spite of critics' adulation. A good talent,
at times a great talent, but not genius."

"Yet so near he almost touches it," she added. "A most
wonderful and bewitching gift. That 's the pity of it ! "

"Pity? You must explain." He fronted her resolutely,
his face heated in its earnestness; the waiter at his shoulder
was waved aside impatiently.

"Have I waded in too far to go back?" she begged. "It
was wrong of me to speak at all. It is one of the things I
avoid. For it is something I cannot understand, something
contemptible that — "

"Have no fear," he interrupted bitterly. "It won't be
spread by me. I think I may call myself a friend of Reeve's.
Oh, he's spoiled, perhaps; it's hard to be a little of a lion

I
I

1904.] From an Old Man*s Journal. 815

here in London, and not be touched. Still, at bottom he 's
a man, I hope, and contemptible is n't a word that fits him."

" You are too true to him to let me prejudice you ? "
Catherine asked. "You are sure that what I say cannot influ-
ence you ? Perhaps you can explain it away. The mere fact
of your being his friend disproves already what I accuse him
of"; reasoning to make him wince In its unconscious irony.

He capped it. "Begin; I'm an unbiassed listener."

"That's unkind," she said earnestly. "Somehow you have
made the whole affair seem childish."

" I assure you, it 's far from sport with me," he returned,

" Three years ago we were abroad, and stopped in Devon-
shire for a few weeks, at Torquay. Do you know it ? "

" Yes, well," he answered.

"We were staying in a villa overlooking the sea," Cather-
ine continued — "in the terrace above the ' Osborne.' One day,
while taking that lovely cliflf walk to Babbicombe, I felt tired
and stopped to rest ; but I persuaded the others to go on.
There was a break in the hedge near, and as the wind was
high, I climbed through and found a wood of scrubby pines,
with soft, thin grass to rest on. Some people passed on the
other side of the hedge, and I remember feeling very cozy,
for though within earshot, I was invisible. They leaned against
the bank — an elderly lady, a girl, and a man. I could just see
their heads. The lady soon rose and left them, saying she
must go back, as she would miss her tea. Had I realized
what was to follow, I should have made myself known ;
but before such presence of mind came to me, too much had
been said on their part. To have come forward later would
have been distressing for all. I was an eavesdropper, yet I
can't say I found it uncomfortable. It was too interesting.
The man turned to his companion and asked, abruptly, if she
had read his letter. She replied that she had.

*' ' Did you understand it ? * he asked.

" ' Oh I perfectly,' she answered. ' But I 'm content as
things are.'

"'Then, after what I explained,* he said — he was evidently
making a great effort to speak calmly—' realizing, as you do,
that we neither of us care for each other — that the engage-
ment has been an ill-considered affair from first to last^ — that — '

"'Yes,' she interrupted with exasperating pleasantness,
'knowing all that, I am still willing to marry you.'

8i6

From an old Man's Journal.

[Mar.,

" ' If I felt you cared in the least,' he cried vehemently, ' I
could go through with it, without a word. I could never have
written so brutal a letter/

*" It was rather brutal/ she laughed, and broke off a haw-
thorne branch to shade her eyes, as she quietly looked at him.
'To hint that your prosperity was exaggerated was chivalrous.
But, my dear boy, engagements are not casual things. I 'm a
woman of twenty-nine, and as tired of my good uncle and
aunt as I have no doubt they are of me. And your place in
Wales just suits me. It's a dear place.' And she went on t»
tell him not to mope ; now that he knew the worst, he would
feel jollier to-morrow. He gave her no answer, but apparently
glared ahead at the sea.

" * Can I recall him well ? ' Not clearly. If I saw him
again I might not recognize him — he was there so short a
space. But I remember at the time thinking him delightful.
He was head and shoulders above his companion ; very athletic,
but with the head of a thinker — an ascetic leanness in the
face. Our own Meredith gives us the word for him — ' Phsbus
Apollo turned fasting friar.' It's a type many — I for one —
think the best. Looking at him, one half relented toward her."

A faint color mounted to his forehead, and seeing it,
Catherine flushed deeply. That her impersonal descriptioi,
given without a second thought, could be applied to her com-
panion as well as to her once seen hero, was an idea that stung.

" The girl was a charming creature," she said, to push the
thought from her mind, "with a thin, piquant face; in looks
much younger than she was."

"And the end?" he asked coldly.

" Why, they merely rose and walked away."

"Did you ever hear what became of them?"

" She was staying at the ' Osborne.' " Catherine returned.

" She was a Miss J^ ■. When I passed through the hotel

gardens on my way to the beach I sometimes saw her. A few
days before we left Torquay there was a sudden squall in the
bay, and several boats capsized. Two lives were lost ; Miss

J , who had gone out with a party of ladies, being one of

those drowned. Naturally this bit of real life remained with
me, and the following winter I wrote a slight sketch of it for
a small, a very local magazine at home. Six months later I
read the same story in one of your best English magazines,
written by Fowys Reeve. The same scene, down to such slight

1904.] FRO.\f AN Old Man's Journal. 817

» details as the hawthorne branch and the sun filtering through
the open straw of her hat — all was like my sketch, except that
now it was a moving, a powerful story, with his wonderful
manipulation of words, the almost magical way, it seems to me,
in which he can express intangible emotions, half phrases and
tones. Why, with so great a talent, need such a man be at a
loss for a plot — a commonplace plot ? "

I" There are such things as coincidences," he suggested, in
a tone that carried no conviction.
" No, this was too minute a resemblance. The very day
was described, the wind, the bank they leaned on. And just
as I had ended it — her death. And, as I had feebly tried to
do, the hero was carried on a little farther: his yearning for a
true afifection was drawn, his fear of a second mistake, his fruit-
less waiting, although he felt somewhere in the world there
must be a woman such as he dreamed of. In Powys Reeve's
story this was the best part, one of the most charming things
he had done. My ending had been sentimental rubbish; his
was strong and infinitely touching. Everything I had tried to
do was here carried through; only now no bungling, but artis-
tic work. His story made a great impression; it was immensely
talked of. One felt it was vital — had blood in its veins. I
never spoke of the resemblance; the whole affair was too absurd
and incomprehensible To have spoken of my sketch in the same
breath with anything Mr. Reeve had done was too laughable."

Catherine's companion was silent. His face had grown so
serious that she regretted what she had done.

"But you will surely explain it?" she begged, as if to jus-
tify herself.

" You are certain no one else could have overheard ? " he
asked.

"Absolutely. If I could show you where it took place you
would be convinced I could have been the only eavesdropper."

"Then, did it ever occur to you — I suggest this in justice
to Reeve — that the pitiful caricature of a lover you saw that
day in Torquay might be the Author himself? You may say
this is a damning sort of justice, to accuse him of worse — mak-
ing copy of. But such things are not to be explained ; artists
cannot be tied down by cut-and-dried rules. The point is, I
don't think Reeve is cad enough to take another's plot. I 'm
afraid we must picture my poor friend as the miserable creature
you describe,"

8x8 From an Old Man*s Journal. [Mar,

Catherine turned to him with radiant eyes. " I feel that
you are right!" she cried. "But not pitiful — oh, he was not
in the least pitiful ! "

He interrupted her passionately. '" Why did you not finish
your tale," he said, " and make your hero meet the one
woman in the world for him — the glory of his life ? A man
cannot go through the ordeal you so placidly tell of — a test to
bring out his meanest and worst, to well-nigh end his belief in
womanly sweetness; such a man would know her when he met
her. Let her be old or young, of different race and language,
nothing could hold him back when once he felt that what he
had waited for so long was found ; when once his soul met
hers," he added, beneath his breath. " And if, when he met
her, he should find her so lovely and fair a prize that all
the .world would envy him — ah, what an ending for your hero ! "

"But in life, is it ever so swift and certain?" she asked re-
gretfully; this imaginary hero seemed almost real to her. "Are
there not always doubts and difficulties? Just, for instance,
take Mr. Reeve — you know him. Tell me, how would he finish
his own story to-day? Has he met her?"

"Yes," he said, hesitating at first; but as he turned to her
the cloud left his face. "He has known her but a few seconds
according to the world's reckoning, but he is sure. It is a hope as
yet, a tantalizing promise, knocking at his heart against his
cooler judgment. He is not going to let this great possible
happiness slip through his fingers with the touch-and-go of life —
nor let the conventions and shibboleths of society hedge him in.
He is going to pursue it — this dream — make it yield its fair
young loveliness to him. He has taken a vow. God willing,
he will win her."

Catherine gave a fleeting little sigh. "The glory of his life,
you say ? Oh tell him not to miss it." She raised her charming,
unconscious face to his. " Tell him that on her side she may
see in him her vi.«ion. But she is a woman, and cannot set out,
champion like, to win it. She must stay inactive, waiting. And
if he procrastinates, if he hesitates, the precious time will pass
till it is too late. And she may not be patient as he is; she
may grow tired of waiting, and take the second best, some poor
equivalent which her honest fancy strives to dress in borrowed
plumes. But what a tragedy we are making of it !" She tried
to laugh away her seriousness, as she turned aside to her host.
Genial Sir Lucius was shaking his head at them.

I
I

1904]

From an Old Man's Journal.

819

I
I

" Spoilt by success I call him," he was saying to her aunt —
" not a shadow in his life ! Eton stretched that great frame
of his, Oxford made him a double first. He wrings our hearts
with his paltry tales, and finds himself famous at thirty. And
to cap it all, to add infamy to impudence, he monopolizes a
fair lady for an entire evening, while others are sighing for a
little chance of their own."

Her aunt leaned across the table. " I know your books,
Mr. Reeve," she said. "My niece had one crossing on the
steamer. I could not make her hear nor speak. Which was it,
Catherine ?"

Catherine turned to her companion with startled eyes.

" I don't understand," she faltered.

In the noise and bustle of rising from table her confusion
passed unnoticed. He folded a cloak round her shoulders, and
they followed the others to the terrace.

She leaned against the parapet, as she watched the Ifghts of
the great rushing city. Feeling instinctively that the almost
articulate silence between them must be broken, Catherine tried
to speak calmly of the deserted terrace, contrasting it with its
afternoon brilliancy. He did not seem to hear her.

"You gave Powys Reeve some advice," he said with quiet
concentration. "You told him your type of man," he added
with a timidity that made her tremble—" not to hesitate, not to
let the haphazard of life separate him from the chosen woman
when found. You said — you suggested— ah, forgive me tf I seem
taking things for granted,— you said she might be waiting, as
he was. And I said he had met her. and was sure that his
horrible unrest, his bitter distrust, were things of the past. He is
sure — he comes to you — the dear woman of his vision; he begs
the glory of his life from you. Tell me — " and he bent down
to her, waiting, "is the despaired-of dream ever to be his?"

Sir Lucius McBride's hearty voice rang down the terrace.
" 'Tisn't fair, my dear lady, a creature so lovely. It 's labelled
she must be— a sign for us susceptible men to read: Out of
reach! unattainable! — a fortress held by a fortunate enemy!"
*' Fortress ?" laughed her aunt; "your gallantry? — "
"Is routed by the shock. Nay, then — a fairy palace she is — ■
inaccessible- — a castte in Spain !"

* * Diews anb IReviews* * <f

Father Rose's Studies on the Gos-

STUDIES ON THE GOSPELS, pels* is a work of the very first im-

By Father Rose, O.P. portance. No Scriptural work in

English from the pen of a Cath-
olic can we at this moment recall which does so much to meet
the urgent demands of New Testament criticism. Those de-
mands have truly become a clamor in the ears of orthodoxy.
What is the evidence for the virgin-birth ? What authority
have the four Gospels over the multitude of local gospels which
once aspired to canonical recognition ? Did Christ say anything
about a redemptive purpose, or is this an exclusively Pauline
conception ? Have the titles Son of God, Son of man, and
Kingdom of Heaven such a meaning as would exalt our Lord
to divinity and make him the head of a race restored ? And,
finally, is the Resurrection proved ? These questions are the
chapter- headings in Father Rose's volume. About the supreme
importance of them we trust we need say nothing. They are
the battle-ground where at this moment faith and unfaith are
locked together in a struggle which is unto death. To answer
them our theological manuals will help but little, if they help
at all. Theology is not critical, its method is not inductive, it
deals with system and generalization, not with the minutiae of text-
ual and historical detail. Indeed it would be hard to conceive
two states of mind more different than the theologian's and
the critic's; and it would be difficult also to imagine a failure
more complete than the attempt of speculative theologians to meet
the requirements of the historical method. Look at the contro-
versy between Bossuet and Richard Simon. See, on the one
hand, the grandiose eloquence of theory, and, on the other, the
keen thrust of fact. Notice, too, the irreconcilability of the two
states of mind and methods of study; Bossuet pouring out his
scorn for the grammarian, the textualist, the dealer in unpoetical
and unrhetorical detail, and Simon not daring to frame general
theories, and mistrusting every conclusion that does not rest
upon as exhaustive an induction as it is possible to obtain.
Bossuet was beaten, and since his time many another of his way
of studying has also been beaten, until in our day the critic

• Studies OH the Gospels. By Vincent Rose, O.P. Translated by Robert Fraser, D.D.
New York : Longmans, Green & Co.

1904] VJEIVS'AND REVJEIVS. 82 1

can be met only by the critic, and if Biblical rationalism is to be
destroyed, it is plain to every one that only its own weapons can
destroy it.

Now, Father Rose knows thoroughly the conclusions and
the methods of critical study. He .meets Harnack, Lobstein,
Renan, and others on their chosen field, and with conspicuous
ability he maintains the Christian thesis against them. He is
not afraid of conceding to criticism the just conclusions which
it has demonstrated. In fact, he has been accused as one of
the '* infiltrated " by that set of theologians in France who
seem to think that the Fathers of the first three centuries have
answered every modern difficulty, and that the science of the
present day is all broken out with diabolism. But any student
who will refuse to recognize the achievements of scholarship is
unworthy to speak for truth. Ample and sorrowful is the tes-
timony of history that such champions inflict no harm upon
the enemy's ranks, but work disaster in their own. In this
respect Father Rose is admirable. Honest, open-minded, and
clearly a candid lover of truth, he is as distinguished an apolo-
gist as one could wish. We shall not give a detailed statement
of his views here ; perhaps we shall deal with them at length
at some future time. One word only shall we say, that he has
produced a remarkable book, which we insistently urge our
readers to procure.

Students of the New Testament do

CRITICAL STUDIES ON THE not need to be told of the number

DEATH, RESURRECTION, and magnitude of the historical

AND ASCENSION OF OUR and critical problems connected

LORD. vi\t\\ the last hours of our Lord's

y UT. iseiser. life, his resurrection and ascension.

To ftx the chronology, and to

reconcile the variant accounts of those momentous events, has

produced a vast literature. And incomparably vaster is the

literature of theology, controversy, and apologetic which has

been based upon the closing words and deeds of the Son of

man. A critical study, therefore, of this part of the Gospel

history is as important for the student as an investigation of

the synoptic problem or of the fourth Gospel We are glad to

announce the appearance of such a work • from the pen of a

• IMe GtsthUkte dei Ltidtni uitd Sltrbent, dtr Aujentehung unj Himmttfahrt dtt Herru.
Von Dr. Johannes BeUer, ord. Professor der Ttieologie an der Universitilt zu TUbingcn. St.
L.oui5 : Herder&che Vcrlagshandlyng.

822 VIEIVS AND REVIEWS. [Mar.,

Catholic scholar Dr. Belser, of Tubingen, had already put us
in his debt by his Einleitung in das Neue Testament, which in
the two years since its publication has won honorable recogni-
tion from scholars of every school and tendency. And now in
his Leidensgeschicte des Herm, he does us all a further service
and confers a new distinction upon Catholic scholarship. With
true German solidity he discusses all the perplexing problems
that emerge from the closing pages of the four Gospels, and in
the compass of five hundred pages he brings together more
erudition upon these topics than any other Catholic work
contains.

Dr. Belser is very conservative. He possesses a full appara-
tus of critical scholarship, it is true; but standing ever before
him as a regula morum is cautious, traditional, Catholic opinion.
If the weight of scholarship tends to consider a text of later
insertion, he stands out in vigorous opposition. If there is
question of removing a difficulty of interpretation by means of
an opinion which does not agree with the theological tendency
of the schools, he prefers to let the difficulty stand ; prefers even
to seek after a 'rather remote solution sometimes. Even to so
generally accepted a critical view as that Mark furnishes us
with the earliest synoptic data he refuses to yield assent, though
he calls it, with subtle irony, a " fast allmachtigen Theorie."
In consequence of such an attitude, students who have fallen
to some extent under the influence of the prevalent methods
and conclusions of New Testament criticism will find much in
Dr. Belser at which to take offence. But whether one agrees
with him or not, one. must always admire his spirit and respect
his learning.

An instance or two may be given in which the preoccupa-
tions of theology have prevented our author from ' adequately
accounting for facts. The cursing of the barren fig-tree, narrated
by Matthew and Mark, he completely allegorizes, following
Origen and Jerome. The fig-tree is the chosen people, favored
richly by God. In the fulness of time the Messias comes,
hungry to see among the elect of Israel ripe fruits of right-
eousness and faith. Finding only leaves upon the branches, the
Son of God must perforce pronounce sentence of destruction.
This is Dr. Belser's explanation, and conscious of the difficulty
that at once arises in any critical mind at such an exegesis, he
asks naively : " Konnten die Leser der evangelischen Urkunden

1904.]

Views and Reviews,

823

ger^e diese symbolische Bedeutung des von den Evangelisten
berichteten Vorgangs ohne niihere Erkljirung erkennen ? " The
question is not, as may be obvious, very satisfactorily answered.
Any one acquainted with the Gospel- text is aware that Dr.
Belser's midrash is absolutely untenable. For it is distinctly
stated in both Matthew and Mark that our Lord approached
the barren tree, not in order to point a moral, but because he
was hungry, "if haply he might find anything thereon," says
Mark. And furthermore when later on the disciples wondered
at seeing the tree "dried up from the roots," our Lord took
occasion of the incident to tell them, not the elaborate allegory
devised by our author, but a lesson on the miraculous value of
faith. The occurrence has iong been a dark problem to com-
mentators, and Dr. Belser has assuredly given no help toward
a solution.

So in the apocalyptic discourse of Christ in which the end
of the world seems described as imminent, our learned author,
while displaying much erudition in finding a way out of the
difficulty, seems to do violence to the plain meaning of the
texts. For, with the greatest Catholic Scripture scholar now
living, we hold the common-sense principle, "Ja bible est ce
qu'elle devait ctre pour etre comprise de ses premiers lecteurs,"
we can hardly be satisfied with an exegesis which would make our
Lord's words absolutely unintelligible for those that heard them.

But notwithstanding the points of difference between Dr.
Belser and ourselves, we wish it to be understood that his
work is of rare value, and eminently deserving of approbation.
His discussion of the Last Supper coatains a fine vindication
of the literal sense of "This is my body," and is followed by
an Anmerknng almost equally valuable in defence of the posi-
tion that in the sixth chapter of St. John our Lord had the
Eucharist in mind. We trust that this work will be widely
read in America. The publishers, on their part, have left
nothing undone to make this noble volume a joy to the eyes
of a book-lover.

We wonder why Father McNabb
gave to this collection of essays
the title Where Believers may
Doubt f* For in the last three
papers, those, namely, on Scholasticism, Mysticism, and Imag-

* Wkert Bclievtn may Doubt. By Vincent McNabb, O.P. New Vurk : Beriiigcr
Brothers,

VOL. UCXVIIL— 53

WHERE BELIEVERS

MAY DOUBT.

By Father McNabb, O.P.

VIEWS AND REVTEW^.

[Mar.,

ination and Faith, there is no preoccupation whatever to define
the respective provinces of belief and of opinion, and in the
first three, which are concerned with Inspiration, such a pre-
occupation seems altogether subsidiary and in its issue is most
assuredly inadequate. Misled by the title, we began to read
with more than ordinary eagerness these Scriptural essays,
wondering whether we should find in our author a new asso-
ciate of that pitiably small number of Catholic students who
are endeavoring to bring into.- harmony, after a long season of
disastrous discord, the statements of theology and the conclu-
sions of criticism

With such men wc found Father McNabb at least in sym-
pathy. He is no dogmatist insisting upon sacrosanct formulas
of the schools to the despite of historical induction. He is too
broad minded to commit the blunder, in these days an abso-
lutely unforgivable blunder, of cas^tirg ridicule upon higher
criticism, or of making merry with it because some of its
hypotheses are exploded and some of its adherents eccentric.
But nevertheless he fails to answer many urgent questions
raised by modern learning and asked by almost everybody.
The question above all others which we conceive he ought to
discuss, if he is to meet the expectations aroused by the name
of his book, is : How far does inspiration guarantee historicity?
Certainly some light is given this problem by Father McNabb's
distinction between inspiration and revelation — a distinction
which we think neither so recondite nor so new as he implies —
and also by his repetition of the principle, familiar since its
first formulation by St. Jerome, that the sacred authors often
wrote according to the sensible appearance rather than accord-
ing to the objective reality of things. But this still leaves a
multitude of difficulties. Father McNabb would have done far
better if he had popularized the illuminating theory so well
stated by " X." of the Stitdi Religiosi and a few others, that
the books of Scripture are to be interpreted by the canons of
the several kinds of literary composition to which they belong.
If a book is a poem, judge it by the standards of poetry ; if
It consists of a compilation of official archives, estimate its his-
toricity by the norm of Oriental state- papers ; if it is a devout
Haggada, give it no more objective historical value than such
productions claim. Not that this theory either is without its
difficulties and deficiencies. The host of opponents it has

I904-]

Views and Reviews.

82":

stirred up is enough proof of that. But it is the best availa-
ble we think, and if not formally approved by our present
author, it should at least be given room in his discussion.

Moreover, Father McNabb seems to say more than he in-
tended when he maintains that the inspired writer is always
*' moved by God to apprehend the presence of a revelation and
to intend to transmit the revelation by writing" (p. 22). Now
he defines revelation as " the manifestation of a supernatural
truth — /. f, , of a truth which the natural thinking powers of
man could not discover " (p, 40). Obviously, then, a great
part of Scripture is not revealed— the historical narratives, for
example — and if not revealed, could not, if we take Father
McNabb an pied de la Uttre, be inserted in the Bible by an
inspired writer or compiler ; because an inspired author, he has
said, always recognizes as revealed what he intends to trans-
mit. This conclusion, of course, neither our essayist nor any
one else wishes to hold.

The essay on Imagination and Faith suggests a fruitful line
of thought, but it seems to have been too large a subject for
our author to handle easily. Some of the examples in this
essay strike us as unhappily chosen. We are told that on
a priori grounds it is as inconceivable that a stone should fall
as that a Franciscan friar should be raised in ecstasy three
miles into the air. But nevertheless when we assent to the
proposition that a stone has fallen, and refuse it to the propo-
sition that a human body has flown to the clouds, we are not,
as our author implies, putting ourselves into the bondage of
imagination; but rather are we following the lead of our intel-
lect, which does not exist in an inane world of a priori possi-
bles, but rests upon the solid ground of a posferiori actualities,
and is illuminated by the happenings of life and the general-
izations of experience. And life and experience both declare
that unsupported stones fall and that fleshly bodies do not fly.
And so consistent is this experience that wc think it the in-
evitable impulse of an intellectual man to disbelieve alleged
miracles. The world's ordinary course and the great possi-
bility of error in the witnesses, drive a cautious mind to such
an attitude. But when the facts clearly declare that divine
Power has broken into the continuity of physical law, and has
left indisputable vestiges of itself in the form of a miracle,
then the scientific as well as the devout spirit, as scarcely needs

826 Views and Revieivs. [Mar.,

to be said, hesitates no longer, but gives assent to the work of
omnipotence. Father McNabb, we are inclined to think, in
pleading for inteJlect in our attitude toward the things of faith,
has been hardly fair to intellect in things outside faith.

A knowledge of the Mass* with
THE MASS. all its attendant liturgy and cere-

By Father Gavin. monies is a most valuable spirit-

ual asset to the Catholic. The
literature on the subject is a vast one, and includes many clas-
sical works; yet for a small, practical work we commend most
heartily the present volume of Father Gavin. It embraces
some twenty-eight Instructions delivered at the Farm Street
church, and intended as simple explanations of Catholic doctrine
for Catholics and non- Catholics. After an introductory chapter
on the object of the Mass, the author explains the doctrine, es-
sence, and ends of sacrifice, the altar and the different vestments.
He then follows the priest faithfully in the ordinary, the offer-
tory, the Canon, even to the end; giving a concise commentary
on all the prayers, their purpose and their meaning. Cfhapters
are added on Mass for the Dead and the language of the Mass.
A useful index closes the volume. The present is a second
edition, which has been corrected and somewhat enlarged.

The season of Lent is one in which Catholics might read
and study this book, and we trust that not only at this season
but through all seasons it will be welcomed by many and help
to a deeper appreciation of the greatest act of worship in the
Church.

Father Paschal's brochure f on St.

THE REAL St, FRANCIS. Francis contains work of a high

By Fr. Paschal, O.F.M. order. In the first place, its pur-

pose is noble, being no other than
to vindicate the great saint of Assisi from the imputations re-
cently cast upon his name. For it is well known that M.
Paul Sabatier and scores of other trained students and clever
writers have of late been publishing the results of their Franciscan
studies, in which the Catholicity of St. Francis is gravely called

• The Sacrifice oj the Mass. An esplanation of its Doctrine. Rubrics, and Prayera, By
Rev. M. Gavin, S.J. London : Burns & Oales.

t The Real St, Francis ofAstiti. By Father Paschal Robinson, O.F.M. New York : The
Messenger Press.

1904.] Views and Reviews. 827

in question. He was opposed, the new school tells us; to all ex-,
ternal religion, whether represented in ecclesiastical authorities
or in Catholic sacraments. He is, in fact, continue they, singularly
fit to be the saint and patron of the undogmatic religiosity of
this age. Grotesque as all this is, it is supported with great
learning and with a sincere purpose to do honor to St. Francis.
Against this view Father Paschal offers a solid and efficacious
protest. He proves the holy founder's devotion to the Church,
submissive respect for its prelates, and thorough reliance upon
its sacraments. And, to come to a second conspicuous merit in
this work, the discussion in its pages is carried on with a per-
fect critical spirit. There are no asperities, no smart jests, no
intemperate words. Father Paschal has in a high degree the
tone and temper of the critic and the scholar. He knows his
theme profoundly, he appreciates his adversaries correctly, he
leads up to his conclusions scientifically. Short as his work is,
it contains in summary form principles of investigation and digni-
fied controversy of which we see all too little. Father Paschal
is to be congratulated upon his work.

It is possible that there are Chris-
STUDIES IN SAINTSHIP. tians whose spiritual condition will
By £. Hello. be improved, purified, and stimu-

lated by such information as abounds
in Studies in Saintship;* for example, that St. Goar hung his
cape on a sunbeam ; that Joseph of Cupertino, hearing some one
remark that it was a fine day overhead, straightway flew to the
top of an olive-tree and knelt in ecstasy on a slender branch,
which swayed as though a bird were perched upon it ; that the
fire of hell, is black, whereas the flames of purgatory are pale,
with a tinge of red ; and that Anthony of Padua at one and
the same moment was preaching at Montpellier and singing a
solemn gradual in his monastery miles away. But common- sense
people, we think, who seek in spiritual reading what will help
them to be holier, braver, and nearer to Christ, will And scant
relish in all this. As a compilation of legends the book would
be interesting enough ; but as for " studies in saintship," it is
monstrously misnamed. It suggests very little indeed of either
study or saintship.

* StudUs in Saintship. Translated from the French of Ernest Hello. With an introduc-
tion by Viiginia M. Crawford. St. Louis : B. Herder.

828

ViEivs AND Reviews.

[Mar.,

THE PRIEST.
By Canon Keatinge.

Canon Keatinge has been in active
duty as a priest of the English
mission for nearly thirty years,
and consequently his book on the
priesthood • must contain many a ripe and sagacious counsel,
many a prudent and practical advice. He discusses about every
variety of work that falls to the lot of a diocesan priest: visit-
ing the sick, hearing confessions, organizing schools, attending
public institutions, repairing the church, and many more. In
all these matters the young man just out of the seminary
needs infinite assistance, and Canon Keatinge gives it just as
we should expect a plain, blunt veteran of the mission to do.
We regret, though, that he has carried his plain, blunt manner
so far when he deals with certain dangers to priestly integrity.
It is unnecessary to go into such detail, and, in our opinion,
misleading and unwise. The chapter on Prayer is well done;
is, in fact, the best chapter in the book, in our judgment.

THE TWO KENRICKS.
By O'Shea.

The two Bishops Kenrick fill so
large and so important a chapter
in American Catholic history that
it is remarkable we have had to
wait so long for their biography.f They were strong, sturdy
men, vigorous with speech and pen, keen of intellect, and con-
umed with zeal for the house of God. Peter Richard Kenrick,
Archbishop of St. Louis, is a bishop like St. Cyprian, fearlessly
ndependent, aggressively jealous of his episcopal rights, ready
n any crisis to step out before the front ranks of men and
lead them intrepidly to duty as he saw it. We can hardly
forbear lingering over his rugged character; he was so true,
so blunt, so much a man, so fierce a foe of sycophancy, so
intolerant of feebleness and timidity. Mr. O'Shea has by no
means grasped his character. In fact, our author labors under
many fatal limitations His style needs to be totally trans-
formed to be acceptable. His appreciation of certain critical
phases of thought connected with his subject is immature and
misleading. Whether he meant it or not, he implies that
Father Hecker and the community which he founded are in

• The Priest: His Character and Work. By James Keatinge, Canon of St. George's
Cathedral. South wark, New York: Bcnriger Brothers.

t The Two Kenriiks. Dy John J. O'Shea. With an Introduction by .Archbishop Ryan.
Philadelphia; John McVey.

I
I

1904.] Views and Reviews. 829

some way alien to the genuine Catholic spirit. He speaks of
a " Liberalistic movement as conceived by Hecker," and so
joins together Father Hecker's name and the Syllabus of Pius
IX. as to leave the impression that this celebrated document
contained a condemnation of the PauHst founder's work. This
is very painful because gravely unjust. How long is it going
to be before Father Hecker's own words are heard in which
he declares that perfect loyalty to the Roman Pontiff is a first
principle of his life and labors? We could excuse Mr O'Shea
for the intellectual limitations disclosed in his volume ; we can-
not excuse him for his injustice to a revered and holy name.

In view of the late " motu pro-

HISTORY OF MUSIC. prio" of His Holiness on Church

By Dickinson. Music, Professor Dickinson's Music

in the History of the Western

CHURCH MUSIC. Church and Dr. Richardson's Church

By Richardson. Music* have an additional value

and interest, at the present time,
to all those whose duty and privilege it is to care for this
important branch of sacred art. In this letter our Holy Father
strongly urges the correction of the abuses which have crept
into the solemn functions of public worship. He has laid down
certain rules which are to govern the use of music at the per-
formance of the liturgical offices, and he has imposed upon all
a scrupulous observance of these rules. Most particularly he
recommends the study of the traditional Gregorian music of
the church, and of the mediaeval chorus music which attained
its perfection, after four hundred years of struggle, in the con-
trapuntal compositions of Pierluigi da Palestrina. For a com-
plete, unbiassed, and thoroughly interesting history of the
Plain Song and the medieval polyphony we can recommend
no better book than the volume of Professor Dickinson which
lies before us.

The chapters on " The Catholic Ritual Chant," " Mediaeval
Chorus Music," and "The Modern Musical Mass " deserve
special notice and unstinted praise. In the various stages of
the development of sacred music, the author acquaints the
reader with the development, likewise, of its sister art, sacred

* Music in the History of the Western Church. By Dickinson. New York : Scribners.

Church Music, A. M.ideley Richardson, Miis. Doc. New York and London : Longmans,
Green & Co.

830 VIEIVS AND REVIEIVS. [Mar.,

painting and sculpture. The spiritual, as well as the aesthetic
effects of these two branches of ecclesiastical art, are about
the same, and hence the knowledge of their mutual relation is
essential to any one who would be proficient in either branch.
Hand-in-hand they have come down through the centuries;
they have undergone the same processes of development, and
have suffered, equally, the effects of the mediaeval tendency to
extravagant display and secularization; they have both felt, in
the same degree, the sad results of the spiritual indifference
and moral decline of the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth
centuries, as well as the good and far-reaching effects of the
Catholic Reaction and Counter- Reformation; together they
have shared the fluctuations of ever-changing popular taste.

Professor Dickinson treats with a master's hand the inti-
mate relation of these two members of the sisterhood of sacred

«irt».

Dr. Richardson's book is of a somewhat different character.
While it does give an admirable epitome of the history of
ecclesiastical song, yet its chief purpose seems to be to give
some practical hints to church musicians. The book is meant
mor« particularly for the musicians and clergymen of the
Anglican Church, but it contains very many valuable sugges-
XWw* which recommend it for universal use.

Out) of the points upon which His Holiness insisted, in his
riPCViU encyclical, was the use of boys when the music demands
\\\p ttcutt? voice of the soprano or contralto ; but there is some
t)(<«ovu»lon among those interested as to the possibility of train-
ing hoyn to sing well. Dr. Richardson's chapter on the
'*vlw*ii " furnishes a number of invaluable hints for choir-mas-
(iiu »»H \\\r^ training of the young choristers. There is not
\\\\\v\\ liunutiue on this subject, and we are glad to recommend
\\\\% l>v»(>k, containing as it does the result of the long experi-
VIUM ol »Mui of I'.ngland's best boy -choir directors.

Dr. Emmet's two volumes* on

IHItl ANI> UNUKR ENGLISH the history of English misgovern-

KULK. ment in Ireland make sad but

Mv l»r. Kmmet. interesting reading. They trace

the course of Ireland's Saxon

^M•^.^l^'t>• ••»'«> llrnry 11. to the death of Victoria, and give in

t ', ..«» I 1,'i'- • A<^v/<<* A'«/*. J /Y<-ii for the Plaintiff. By I'homas Addis Emmet, M.D.,

1904.] V/Eivs AND Reviews. 831

eloquent summary the repeated coercions, the inhuman penal
codes, the studied contempt, the heartless neglect, the com-
missions of wrong and the omissions of right, which stand
charged against England, in her dealings with the religion and
the liberty of the conquered Celt. Whether it is in the car-
nival of blood under Cromwell, or during Ireland's dark night
of the soul in famine-time, or in the agitation for a Catholic
university to-day, England's attitude has every appearance of
consistent cruelty or studied contempt. It all makes a disas-
trous history ; and small blame would it seem to be if a man
of Irish birth or blood, reading and pondering such a history,
would find it not in his heart to forget or to forgive. It is per-
mitted us to hope that better days are dawning ; days when
England will be moved with shame, and with desire to cover
over with good- will the oppression of many centuries, and
when Ireland shall lift her prostrate figure from the dust and
be beautiful in the eyes of all the world. Toward hastening
such an hour both struggle and forbearance, both vigilance
and fairness, are needful and necessary in the friends of Erin.
We trust that in the inculcation of such dispositions Dr.
Emmet's work will have its share.

Mr. David Goldstein's book on
SOCIALISM. Socialism* is written from the

By Goldstein. stand- point of one who knows the

socialist propaganda from within,
and who prefers to treat the subject by detailed presentation
of facts rather than by speculative discussion of theories. The
author was actively enlisted with the Massachusetts Socialists
until his convictions led him to see danger in the movement —
danger which was manifested in a startling way in the Herron
episode. W^ith the outbreak of the scandal, he left the party
and considered it his duty to publish this criticism of the
principles which he abandoned. And a very severe criticism it
is. He shows by documentary evidence that European Social-
ism has been eaten into by atheism, revolutionism, and brutal
immorality. Not merely among the rank and file or in an
insignificant and uninfluential section are these foul ideas pro-
fessed, but they proceed from leading journals and international
leaders. Even in America there have appeared indications of

• Socialism : The Nation of Fatherless Children. By David Goldstein. Edited by Martha
Moore Avery. Boston : The Union News League. ,

832 VIEWS AND REVIEWS, [Mar.,

a similar godlessness, and in many a widely read Socialist pub-
lication or popular lecture have appeared tendencies which, if
carried out to any considerable extent, would inevitably destroy
church and state and family. To these dangers, not imaginary
but real, our author peremptorily summons obr attention.
And we doubt not that he has done a great service to Ameri-
can citizenship. For while it would be unjust to include beneath
the vague term of Socialism those upright men who are merely
contending for an extension of government control of business
enterprises, and those dangerous revolutionaires who would
destroy the legitimate ownership of property to make room for
communistic cupidity, and would sweep away the holy resttaints
of matrimony in favor of uncontrolled lubricity, — while to
associate in equal condemnation these two classes would, we
repeat, be a grave injustice and a huge blunder, nevertheless it
is well to bear in mind that many of those who claim to be
spokesmen of the former are also the demagogues of the latter
group, and that often what appears to be only an economic
theory contains the germs of anarchy and irreligion. Sane and
healthy warnings of all this abound in Mr. Goldstein's pages,
and well will it be for all wage- earners who are dissatisfied
with the present structure of society if they read and heed
them.

Seumas MacManus and Jane Bar-

DARBY O'GILL. low never wrote more delightful or

By Templeton. more vivid stories of Irish life than

Herminie Templeton has done in
Darby CGill and the Good People* Her previous work is not
known, but the style of her tales and the clever handling of
their plots show sicill far superior to that of an amateur.

We have the author's word that this is " the only true
account of the adventures of a daring Tipperary man named
Darby O'Gill among the fairies of Sleive-na-mon." The stories
are supposed to be told to the writer by " Mr. Jerry Mur-
thaugh, a reliable car-driver, who goes between Kilcuney and
Ballinderg." Whoever has travelled in Ireland will recognize in
the narrator the identical car- driver who drove him from Cork
to Blarney, and who gave him the impression that he was being
treated to a drive the like of which was never heard of before

* Darby O'GUl and the Good People. By Herminie Templeton. New York: McClure,
Phillips & Co.

1904.] V/SfVS AND REVIEWS. 833

nor since. There is nd companion in the world that equals in
wit and sophistry the Irish jaunting-car driver. The personality
of Jerry, skilfully suggested by his own aphorisms or naive
criticisms, is no discredit to its kind.

Darby's adventures among the Good People, his capture and
escape from Sleive-na-mon, his nightly talks with the fairies'
own king, Brian Connors, we must accept on faith. Unfortu-
nately, we met no one in Ireland who ever had seen a fairy.
But the glimpses of the home-life of the Irish peasantry, their
simple pleasures and their peculiar racial characteristics, are
portrayed with truth and fidelity which every one must recog-
nize. The stories abound in comical incident, whose absurdity
is only heightened by the seriousness with which they are nar-
rated. The contest between Father Cassidy and the King of
the Good People is one of the best. Father Cassidy, troubled
at Darby's intercourse with the fairies, comes to read prayers
over the King, who is paying Darby his usual nightly visit.
The good priest is caught in a bog and surrounded by the
fairies until he is made to surrender. Then by Darby's fireside
follows an exchange of hostilities between' the priest and the
fairy king which is as absurd as anything ever written.

" ' Tell me,' says Darby, — ' lave off and tell me who was the
greatest man that ever lived ? ' says he. At that a surprising
thing happened. Brian Connors and Father Cassidy, aich
strivin' to speak first, answered in the same breath and gave
the same name —

" • Dan'le O'Connell,' says they. . . .

" Darby sthruck agin with the tongs. * Who was the great-
est poet ? ' says he.

"Agin the two spoke together: 'Tom Moore,' says
they. . . .

" Darby said again : * Who was the greatest warrir ? ' he
says.

" The King spoke first. ' Brian Boru,' says he.

" * No,' says Father Cassidy, half laughing : ' Owen Roe
O'Nale.'

"'The divil a much differ betwixt Owen Roe and Brian
Boru ! 'Tis one of them two, an' I don't care which ! ' says
the King.

"The priest and the King sank back in their chairs, eyeing
aich other with admay ration."

834

Views and Reviews.

[Mar..

The rejoicing which followed must be read in the original
CO be appreciated.

It is impossible to quote from a book where there is so
mach that is excellent. We are indebted to Miss Templeton
for making us acquainted with Darby O'Gill and the Good
People.

BEUKDA'S COUSINS.
By M. F. Egan.

Dr. Maurice Francis Egan in
Belinda's Cousins • has given us
the pleasure of renewing our
acquaintance with the little girl so
liappUy introduced to us in Belinda and The Watson Girls.
This latest book in the Belinda series is as readable and delight-
ful AS its predecessors. In this respect it is an exception to
most "series" books, which, with their forced incidents and
over< recurrent characters, are tedious and monotonous to the
last decree.

Delindu has developed into a charming young woman, not a
hh **j:oody-goody," as a heroine is apt to become, but a
Ke^ilthy, happy, and brave girl with enough temper to make
hiM «* human girls of her age are likely to be. Aloysius and
h'red, her two cousins, are the kind of boys one likes to see in
Any family but his own. They are as bad as bad boys can be,
And Marguerite, their sister, deserves more sympathy than their
historian gives her.

There is no more difficult task than to write for boys and
girU of the age to which these books appeal. No longer
hiUlren, nor yet grown-ups, the scorn of the school-boy and
iht »t'hool-girl for the juveniles written for them is equalled
only by Ihcir indignation at the judgment which forbids Dumas
)«imI llarily as being too old for them. A few writers for
ymiiiy people have solved the difficulty successfully. Louisa
Alititl'a l.ittU Women is almost a classic, if classic means the
litfiit wncl innsl ctuluring of its kind. The creator of Tom Saw-
yer «ntl Huckleberry Finn has a shrine in the hearts of boys,
Imlh uM timll yming, that no one dares desecrate. Dr. Egan's
Ifunliti huvc perhaps not yet won as enduring a place on our
liditlf •halvcii, hut he has the story-teller's faculty and power
u\ (-hurMctorlKtetion. To these gifts must be added the charm
nf All WNoellont style and a sense of humor.

* lMi9th'i < '•>((>/Mi. by Maurice Francis Egan. Philadelphia : H. Kilner & Co.

I
I

1904.] Views and Reviews. 835

The Story- Book House* by Honor
STORY-BOOK HODSE. Walsh, is another book for boys
By Walsh. and girls which even grown-up

boys and girls may read with
pleasure. The volume is a collection of stories told to the
children of an old Maryland home. The tales are written in
good, simple style and touch upon diverse subjects, Oliver
Goldsmith, or Noily, the poor Jittle dunce of the school, is the
hero of one. Napoleon and Frederick the Great figure promi^
nently in others. Tad the Fool is the quaint title of a clever
story of a little Irish ne'er-do-well who afterwards becomes the
renowned naturalist, Professor Thaddeus Mahon, F.R.S., of
Trinity College. Fables and legends, fairy tales and allegories,
historical incidents and stories of the South, are all introduced
in such a way that any one may be read apart from the others.
The stories in themselves are far more interesting than the
characters who tell or who hear them. Indeed, the author has
gained little by her detailed exposition of the characters who
live in the "Story-House." Their introduction gives unity and
purpose to the stories, but the charm of the book is found in
the tales themselves. It is just the book to take up before
going to bed, when lessons have been studied and a tired head
wants pleasant thoughts on which to sleep.

This is a thoroughly absurd story. f
SHUTTERS OF SILENCE. An illegitimate child is sent to
By Burgin. Canada by his mother, who, hav-

ing high social aims and a noble-
man in view, declines to marry the father. He is in charge of
an old servant; is ill-treated by the servant, runs away, and
is found, nearly frozen, at the door of a Trappist monastery.
He is adopted by the abbot, who is apparently quite ignorant
as to where he comes from, or whether he is a Catholic or not,
and becomes a novice. His father finds out where he is,
appears and carries him oiT, quite with the abbot's consent and
even advice, though the alleged father seems to give no proof
of his claim. It takes the young man a surprisingly short
time to get quite used to the world; he goes with his father

* Tk* Story-Book House. By Honor Walsh. Boston : Dana. Estes & ,Co.
\ TItt Shutttrs 0/ Silence: The Romance of a Trappist. By G. B. Burgin. New York:
The Smart Set Publbhing Company.

836 V/£»S AND REVIEWS. [Mar.,

to England, and of course promptly falls in love with a young
woman. He also finds his mother — a thoroughly wicked
woman — suddenly learns who she is, and conceives a strong
filial affection for her instantly. ...

But there is no need to go through with the whole busi-
ness. Of course the young man is booked to marry the girl
i;n the end, .'and the father marries the mother. The whole
story is saturated with the common Protestant idea that a
monastery is a place of thorough misery, intetior. as well as
exterior, and that life in the world is the only way to serve
or please God.

Elocution as a studyhas a secondary purpose which is even
higher than its primary one, the art of expression. It famitrar-
izes sftudents with the highest thoughts in their noblest form.
This object has been fully appreciated by Miss Harriet Black-
stone, who has compiled in a'seholarly manner Tke Btst Ameri-
cati ' Orations 'of' To' day.* Her aim has been "to collect in
this^ -irolume the -'best thoughts of the best Americans of this
distinctively ndtkble period in the history of our nation — imen
who are nVost j^rbmtnent in its affairs, and who stand as the
highest types' of honesty, intelligence, and useful citizenship for
the emulation of the' youth of our land." Theodore Roosevelt,
John-'Hay, Thomas B. Reed, Grover Cleveland, Joseph H.
Choate, and Whitelaw Reid are among the many notable men
from whose addresses these selections have been made. They
have been choi^en' for the most part by the authors themselves
for this collection. Because of the place held by these men in
the development of our country and its institutions the addresses
have an interest for the general reader as well as for special
students. " Spartacus to the Gladiators " and Patrick Henry's
oft-spoken Speech have earned a respite. Teachers and pupils
will Welcome this excellent collection of new speeches.

The firm of John Murphy of Baltimore announces that while
their place of business was destroyed by the fire, all of their
plates were saved, and they are temporarily located in Balti-
rhore at the corner of Lombard and South Howard Streets.

• The Best American Oraiiont of To-Day. Compiled by Harriet Blackstone. New York :
Hinds & Noble.

1904.] Views and Reviews. 837

The Arthur H. Clark Company, of Cleveland, Ohio, an-
nounce the publication of a most important series of historical
reprints. -The series is called "Early -Western- Travels," 1748-
1846, and is edited, with historical, geographical, and biblio-
graphical notes, with introduction and index, by Reuben Gold
Thwaites. The work covers some of the best and rarest con-
temporary volumes of travel descriptive of the aborigines, and
social and economic conditions in the Middle and Far West
during the period of early American settlement. A complete
analytical index is to be given of the entire work. The edition
is limited to 750 complete sets, but the publishers announce
in addition thereto that a limited number of the volumes will
be sold separately.

We have received for review a copy of the Sursutn Corda,
the annual record of the Confraternity of St. Gabriel. The
object of this society is to give spiritual aid and consolation
to the sick, and to assist converts who suiter from the isola-
tion and distress which their change of faith has imposed
upon them. A further object is the teaching, through corre-
spondence, of poorly instructed Catholics. The latest report
shows extensive and noble work done in all these fields, and the
many opportunities which might have been taken advantage of
by ze^ous workers if increased funds were at hand. The Con-
fraternity asks us to make public its urgent need of dona-
tions through which it may further cheer the sick and enlighten
the ignorant.

Tlie Tablet (9 Jan.) ; The Roman Correspondent writes of the
decision of the cardinals in Curia concerning the right of
Veto in papal elections and of the Pope's determination
to abolish the custom. He also notes the interesting
item that during this week Mass will be celebrated in
Rome in nine different rites. An article on " Catho-
lic Emigration Work " reviews the interesting report of
Fr. Hudson on the Rescue work done by the Birming-
ham Rescue Society.
(16 Jan.): The text of the decree declaring the virtue of

the Maid of Orleans heroic is given in full. -The Latin

original, with an English translation, of a poem written
some three hundred years ago by a Jesuit father, in
which is curiously foreshadowed the invention of wire-
less telegraphy.

(23 Jan.): Under the title of "Mr. Herbert Spencer's
Advice to Japan " a writer comments upon a remarkable
letter of Mr. Spencer's, now first published, in which that
famous philosopher recommends a policy of isolation to
the Japanese, and advises them to " keep other rapes at

arm's length as much as possible." The Rev. George

Angus gives some interesting reminiscences in an article

entitled " In Town and Country." The Rector of

Bede College in Rome in an article on the "Authorized
Chant " states that the Ratisbon edition may not noj
be introduced anywhere.

(30 Jan.) : In an interesting letter the Roman Corre-
spondent teils of a curious incident which happened last
week at the Church of St. Mark in Rome. Certai ^
remains have for a number of years been exposed fjr
veneration in this church as the remains of St. Fortissima,
who was said to have been martyred in the fourth cen-
tury. It has now been proven that these remains can-
not be those of the saint, and the Pope ordered them to

be taken back to the catacombs. Hence the incident.

Reform of the Breviary is reported as underway, as also
the codification oi the vjholt Canon Law. — Father Coupe,

1904.] Library Table. 839

S.J., in a correspondence on the question of Spontaneous
Generation, answers in his usual clear way some objec-
tions made to his position.—^ — In his " Vale to the
Ratisbon Version " Father Sole recalls the efforts made
by the Ratisbon schola to preserve the purity of church
music.

The Critical Review (Jan.) : begins this first issue of the new year
with an article on four of Norway's most renowned pulpit

orators. Davidson's Old Testament Prophecy is reviewed

by H. W. Robinson. The notice is expository in char-
acter with the exception of a line or two of high but,
no doubt, well merited praise. When we are told that
the work represents upwards of forty years of the
author's best thought and labor on the following pro-
foundly interesting subjects, namely, "The Origins of
Prophecy," " Thfe Characteristics of Prophecy," and
" Messianic Prophecy," we agree with the reviewer that
it is a work which every earnest student of Scripture

should possess. Professor James Iverach presents a

brief but clear outline of the scope and contents of
Guido Villa's Contemporary Psychology. He criticises the
work very favorably, declaring it to be the production
of a very competent student, an actual worker in the
science and one thoroughly acquainted with both its

past history and its present status. Among other

articles of interest in the present number are a review
of Weiss' The Religion of the New Testament by Pro-
fessor J. S. Banks, and a criticism of Funk's Apostolic
Fathers by Professor V. Bartlet.

The Church Quarterly Review (Jan.) : A scathing criticism of
Dr. Fairbairn's Philosophy of the Christian Religion charg-
ing him with having completely vitiated his work by a
fundamental false conception of the supernatural, and hav-
ing, further, presented a weak defence of the Divinity of
Christ, and, in short, of having built up not a " Philosophy
of Religion," but a " Philosophy of phrases." A dis-
cussion of the historical value of the Gospels, especially in
regard to their records of supernatural events. A con-
tinuation and conclusion of The History of the Doctrine of
the Holy Eucharist, discussing works of the eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries, and even including three rather note-
▼OL. Lxxvin.— 54

S^ Library Table. [Mar.,

^r^rthv vv>Iunaes of the present century, Dr. Renz's MeS'
ssffferprf^ijf^ the late Fr Carson's Eucharistic Eirenicon,

and Dr. Gold's Sacrificial Worship. A tribute to the

truly remarkable labors and trials of the heroic Jesuit
Friedrich von Spee in his endeavor to change the mind of
the world and of churchmen away from the delusion of a

belief in witchcraft. An enthusiastic testimony to the

beautiful character and the literary ability of Charlotte
Mary Yonge.
T-w tlibbert Journal (Jan.) : H. C. Corrance points out a funda-
mental philosophic error committed on the one hand by
Harnack and on the other by Anglican Ritualists in their
search for genuine Christianity. Harnack would reduce
the Gospel to the single formula : " The Kingdom of God
is within you "; and he considers the religious history of
Catholicism, with its rites, its dogmas, and its discipline a
huge accretion of which we must get rid. And as for the
Ritualists, they also fix a static content of Christianity.
They regard the Christian experiences and the Christian
^development of the first few centuries as the true represen-
tative of the teaching of Christ, but all later experiences
and development as misleading and false. Both are in
error because they refuse to take account of the pro-
gressive religious life of the race. But the idea of God
is for ever developing, and grows wider, truer, clearer in
the race as in the individual. No religion can live which
does not constantly take unto itself the new nourishment
that rises up from age to age out of the soil of belief. The
Catholic Church alone has gathered up the elements of the
spiritual experiences of all humanity and made them her
own. Her formulas expressed in the terms of a phil9so-
phy of one age can be read, without destroying their essen-
tial content, in the terms of thought of any later age.
She alone possesses truth that is for ever stable, and a
power of adaptation that changes as all living things must

change. Rev. James Moffatt indicates wherein certain

Zoroastrian elements may be reflected in the imagery of the
Apocalypse. Miss Alice Gardner considers some theo-
logical aspects of the iconoclastic controversy. Pro-.

fessor Bacon studies the direct internal evidence for the
authorship of the fourth Gosi^el. Dr. Farnell writes upon

1 904. J ' Library Table. 841

the notion and practice of sacrificial communion in Greek

religion. Professor Beibetz describes the change in

point of view effected in theological studies. Dr,

Montague investigates the evidences of design in the uni-
verse. Mr. Edward Carpenter, from the stand- point of

one who holds " that every soul born into the world has
had a glimpse of eternal verities," has an article on the

gods as embodiments of race- memory. Finally there

is a symposium on why laymen are indifferent to religion.
Le Correspondant (lo Jan.): Mgr. Mignot, Archbishop of Albi,
has a long article on the present relations of Biblical
criticism and traditional belief. It is time, he declares,
that we should realize the gravity of the problems before
us. It is absurd to go on repeating the futility that
only evil passions are the source of unbelief. We must
understand that enormous difficulties, unknown to the
older . apologists, have arisen in our time, and that they
are giving distress and anxiety to many a noble soul
that longs to believe. Catholics must keep in mind one
other fact also, and that is, that the " Bible question "
is no longer a thing agitated among Protestants, but
has reached within the church itself a state of acute
and painful crisis. The theologians have suffered one
defeat after another in matters not of faith. Once these
venerable masters undertook to construct for us a Bibli>
cal cosmology, a Biblical geology, a Biblical chronology,
but their a priori deductions have been ridiculed into
obscurity, and criticism now claims for itself a field
whereon theology may not trespass. It is becoming
clearer every day that our faith in the entire Biblical
dispensation rests upon Christ as a divine Person who
once lived in Palestine and has ever since lived in the
Catholic Church, where He is Sovereign of God's King-
dom on earth. It is a fault in scientific method to look
for the full statement of Christ's personality and the
complete proofs of His divinity, in the fragmentary pages
of his gospel biography. Christ did not cease when the
New Testament was finished, and of his life and power
and character every age of the church's nineteen cen-
turies of history has furnished glorious testimony. If
we look only at the Christ of the synoptic go.epels, per-

842 LIBRARY TABLE. [Mar,,

haps there is ground for saying that his divinity is not
fully proved. But if we look at the Christ of Christian
experience, no other hypothesis save that He is God
will account for the facts. The church which has lived
His life, worked in His spirit, and saved the world by
His word and work, gives us a Lord who is divine.
From the very beginning His divinity is proclaimed
when His first followers set Him above Moses, and
replaced the rites of Leviticus with the oblation of the
Eucharist. Not in the name of Jehovah, but in the
name of Jesus the Apostles work their miracles. And
when, at the very dawn of the new faith, heresies arose
which foreshadowed Arianism, St. Paul tells his con-
verts to hold fast to the new Lord of a redeemed race,
in whom " the fulness of the Godhead dwelleth." Behind
this undoubted persuasion of the earliest church that
Christ is God, are our Lord's clear enunciations about
Himself. He is ineffably in union with the Father; He
is to replace Jehovah's covenant with Moses; He for-
gives sins. He joins Himself with Father and Holy
Ghost as equal to both ; He lives and dies with a con-
sciousness of His Person and mission which would be
impossible to a merely human being. John and Paul
invent no doctrines about Him ; they only express in
terms of a theology what Christ Himself had thought
and. uttered, and what His first believers had held and
preached.

(25 Dec.) : There are some very interesting articles.
Among them the most significant is the paper by M.
Georges Bertrin on " De la Criminality en France,"
refuting the infamous calumnies of anti-Catholic journals
against the French clergy and the religious congregations,
in that country. M. Bertrin has made a close study
and a conscientious use of the statistics furnished by the
minister of justice, and therefore his conclusions are
irrefutable. They prove: (i) that out of 100,000 sen-
tences pronounced in criminial courts against members
of the principal liberal professions, in the three years
from 1894-1897, 3. 1 1 were against clergymen or reli-
gious; in the three years from 1898-1901, 3.01 ; that is,
six and a fraction in six years ; (2) that no faith can

r904.] Library Table. 843

be put in the stories circulated by. sectarian journalists,
no matter how precise and circumstantial ^ may be the
details that give a semblance of truth to their inven-
tions ; (3) that absurdities swarm in the industrial and
agricultural statistics, the organizers of the recent census
having decided to count among the members of a pro-
fession not only the actual practitioners ; but also all the
members of their families and their servants. Thus, the
farmer's wife and children count as farmers, the baker's
wife and children as bakers, and so on. M. Bertrin cites
many instances of this strange method of computation,
which would be amusing if it were' not meant to be mis-
leading. As a result of the process, the secular clergy
are rated at 60,000, though they number 72,000 ; but
even to get the 60,000 the census- taker counts as clergy
the sextons, sacristans, beadles, church- sweepers, the
women who wash church-linen, the priest's housekeeper
and servants, and even his mother and sisters, if they
live under his roof. This arrangement necessitates, of
course, a division of clergy into masculine and feminine.
Frenchmen may be astonished to find, then, that there
arc "5>554 Catholic Female Clergy" in France. By the
logic of the latest French statisticians it seems that all
men and women employed by a physician become by
that very fact physicians, all employed by a lawyer be-
come lawyers, all employed by an ecclesiastic become
ecclesiastics ; an easy, if ineffectual, way of swelling the
ranks. M. Bertrin's study of facts and figures regarding
criminal statistics in France redounds to the honor and
glory of the French clergy and religious.

La Quinzaine (15 Jan.): With a view to find a via media to
compare the strife that is becoming so sharp between
the defenders of the " old " apologetic and the advo-
cates of the " new," M. Blondel exposes, from the epis-
tomological and psychological point of view, the insufH-

ciency of each method, when exclusively adopted.

M. Fidao devotes a very long article, which is to be

continued to the social economics of J. B. Buchez.

The " Motu Proprio " of our Holy Father is published
in a French version.

£tudes (20 Jan.): M. Roure reviews the various stcij^ ta.V.<.\s. Vvj

844

Library Table.

ar.

the governments of France for the establishment of
state charities. He holds that the state should limit its

actions in such matters to seconding private efforts.

The Etudes Napoliennes of M. Frederic Masson, recently
elected to the Academy, are the subject of a paper by

M. Roure. ^The value ot denominational schools is

demonstrated by M. Wilfrid Tampe.

Revue Beuedictiue (Jan.): The activity of Dom Morin in his
researches amongst old MSS. and unedited documents is
evidenced by two articles in the present issue : one an
analysis and commentary of a creed found in a ninth
century codex, and attributed to St. Jerome ; the other
article an introductory word explaining the latest addi-
tion to the author's growing series of Anecdota Mared-
solana. The documents now first brought to the light
by the diligent Benedictine are 14 Homilies on the
Psalms, and 2 tractates on Isaias, and some Greek
fragments of the Psalms, all bearing the name of St.
Jerome ; together with the Expositittuculce of Arnobius

Junior on the Gospel. Contains also an exhaustive

summary of the recent Louvain publication of D. Nys

on Cosmology. A review of Abbe Fontaine's Injiltra-

tiones Kaniiennes et Protestants^ rebukes the writer's
unjust criticism of Abbe Hogan's Clerical Studies,

Revue Tkonnste (Jan. -Feb.) : P. Cardeil undertakes to show
that the traditional Catholic theology takes up a middle
position between the absolutism of human knowledge
and relativity such as M. Loisy professes. Dogmatic
formulae are absolute in meaning but relative in expres-
sion.

Annales de Philosophie Chrc'tienne (Jan.) : A correspondent treats
of Loisy's recent books, and notes that Lenormant's con-
demnation was occasioned by his discussion of the rela-
tion between Oriental and Biblical history. The eternally
unquiet Galileo case is also recalled to notice. The
historical method is declared to be scientific and to give
certain results — e, g., that Moses did not write all the Pen-
tateuch. ^J. Leblanc cites from the early Christian writers

to prove the general faith of the church at that time in

the near reappearance of Christ Senior, reviewing P.

Houtin's history of the movevotiw.Vwo^w ti?. Americanism,

1904.] Library Table. 845

protests against the rather pessimistic tone of the clos-
ing pages ; and hopes that the rights of reason will gain
more and more recognition from the religious conscience,
although at present many find that " in practice the
heresy- hunters make the use of reason almost impossible

in its own field." A pastoral of Mgr. Touchet, Bishop

of Orleans, indicates the defects of the present education
of the clergy and recommends that a new and modified
edition of theological text- books be published every five

years so as to keep pace with the progress of science.

Considerable correspondence pro and con. is published
about Loisy's recent books.

La Revue Generale (Jan.) : The leading article in this number
is from the pen of M. Ch. Woeste. It is an historical
sketch of the Catholic movement in England, covering

the period from 1846 to 1865. Dr. Henri Davignon,

in an appreciation of the writings of M. Brunetiere, points
out many passages which indicate a close study of the
works of Moliere. Prof. Henri Francotte gives a lauda-
tory review of Fr. Castelein's book on natural law: he
states that the work is invaluable to students of sociology
and ethics, and he recommends in particular the chapters

on socialism. In answer to M. Antoine Albalat, M.

Alexis Dumont analyzes the Telemaque and other works
of F^nelon to prove that they are written in a good
literary style.

La Democratie Chreticnne (Jan.) : The writer of an article on the
congress of Bologne accuses L'Unita Cattolica of having
misrepresented the attitude of the assembly in regard
to the organization of labor. He states that, contrary to
the reports in that journal, the Bologne congress em-
phatically rejected the opinion that the labor organiza-
tions encourage socialism and oppose Christian teach-
ing. Dr. F. Dubeis contributes a good paper in defence

of the Catholic notion of morality as opposed to the

individualism advocated by M. Gabriel SeailJes. The

reviewer of the Abbe Gibier's new book calls special
attention to those chapters in which the author urges
the priests in France to identify themselves with the so-
cial interests of their people.

Science Catholique (Jan.): Contains the first instalment of an

846

Library Table.

[Mar..

article on the Parvusia by the Abbe Michels. The ques-
tion of the Second Coming of Christ 10 set up his king-
dom and reign in glory, as found in the Scriptures and
in the belief of the early church, is one of considerable
interest and importance from many points of view.
Whether Christ himself taught the nearness of this Second
Coming and made it the basis of his preaching, as cer-
tain modern critics contend, is the question discussed in
the present paper. In opposition to this position the
writer maintains that Christ did not believe or teach the
nearness of his coming, and that all the texts which are
taken to refer to this event can be understood as refer-
ring either to the immediate establishment of his king-
dom in the church, or to his Second Coming at the end
of the world "to judge the living and dead."—- — M. le
Cte. Domet de Vorges continues his considerations on

Kant's Critique of Pure Reason. Dr. Surbled contributes

an interesting article on the relation of spiritism and science.

Revue des Questions Scientijiqucs (Jan.): Concluding his ultra-
microscopical studies in the " natural triple alliance " of
solids, liquids, and gases, G. Van der Mensbrugghe de-
scribes the *' meteorological cycle," consisting of the
ascent of solid particles and vaporized water into the
atmosphere, and their return in fog, rain, snow, hail,

sleet.- M. Lemoine sketches the life and labors of

Paul Hautefeuille, member of the Scientific Society of
Brussels and of the Institute of France, and professor at
the Sorbonne. P. Thirion, S.J., contributes an obitu-
ary notice of the learned Jesuit, Father Hahn, a favorite
and successful pupil of Hu.Kley's, and tells with what
cheerful serenity he submitted to the condemnation
passed by the Index on his book, which admitted that
St. Teresa was subject to hysterical attacks.

Rivista Lntemazionaie : Prof. Tornolo recommends that the
upper classes and the state should strive to further the
sense of autonomy in the working classes and to aid
the growth of labor unions. ^ ^F. Tolli reports the pro-
gress of the anti- slavery movement, especiaJly in the

neighborhood of Tripoli. C. Torsea di Castellazzo

describes the work done by the International Associa-
tion (or the Legal Protecuou o^ l-^bot«s.

04.] Library Table. 847

vilta Cattolica (16 Jan.): A reviewer of Herbert Spencer
says that no matter what judgment history may pass on
his philosophical system, yet none can deny his lofty
genius, his vast knowledge, the synthetic power of his
mind, his keen insight into the mysterious origins of
things, his ardent and disinterested love of truth, his
contempt of honor and earthly riches, his life, almost
poverty-stricken, always spotless, burdened with serious
and frequent illness, attacked by critics not always just
and generous, temperate, uncondescending, lonely, and
spent in sounding the mysterious depths of the universe.

•zon y Fe (Feb.) : P. Murillo, after naming two books of
Loisy's that were placed on the Index, undertakes to
examine them for the purpose of seeing if they deserved
this fate, and concludes that they certainly do. The
book written against Harnack contains a perfect reflex
of the writings of the German professor, with no other
diflFerence than insignificant variations in terminology —
e.g., Harnack represents the increase of dogmas as a
mere succession and Loisy as the proper and vital
development of a germ.
Rassegna Nazionale (Jan 16): X. di X. maintains that on
recognized principles of law the Pope's right to the
temporal power has ceased, and the Italian government's
claim thereto is clear. Several theologians are cited as
teaching the following doctrines: i. When in any state
^ return to the old order is impossible, the subjects are
freed from all obligation to the former prince, and he is
bound, for the common good, to renounce his claim to
their allegiance. 2. An authority is legitimated when
public peace and progress and the people's will desire
that authority to continue. In the former Papal States
all these conditions weigh in behalf of the Italian monar-
chy. A series of letters from an Italian bishop to Leo

XIII. declares in substance that it is critically urgent
that the Papacy'.s intransigeant attitude on the temporal
power be modified. The bishop says, for example : " To
desire the temporal power in all its former integrity is
absolutely impossible, and is moreover a grave danger
for Catholicism in Italy."

848 A Correction. [Mar.,

A CORRECTION.

In the January number of The Catholic World a paper
was published, entitled " Religion in the Philippines — A Re-
minder." In an editorial note it was stated that the extract
was taken verbatim from the Report of the Philippine Com-
mission to the President, and signed by Jacob Gould Schur-
man, George Dewey, Charles Denby, Dean C. Worcester, John
R. Mc Arthur, Secretary.

The Editor of The Catholic World wishes to say that
the above editorial note was entirely misleading. The " Re-
minder" printed in the January number is not a part of the
Philippine Commission's Report, in which the members of that
Commission express their own opinion and for which they are
responsible (and such an impression our editorial note was in-
tended to convey), but the Reminder is a portion of a paper
written by the Jesuit Fathers in Manila, and merely cited in the
Commission's report: "Report of the First Philippine Com-
mission to the President, vol. iv. page iii. Paper No. 20,
Religion, by the Jesuit Fathers"; and a foot-note states fur-
ther that this paper was written by the Jesuit Fathers in
Manila.

In the light of all this, the paper was a misrepresentation
of a most important question ; we express our sincere regret
that it appeared in our pages under the note in question, and
we desire to correct every false impression of which it may
have been the agent.

A correspondent, whose faithfulness and carefulness had
been repeatedly proved before, sent to The CATHOLIC WORLD
the paper in question. The Catholic World, relying on his
word, published the article ; but now we know that both were
mistaken.

I904.] THE Columbian Reading Union. 849

THE COLUMBIAN READING UNION.

As there is much unreliable information spread abroad for partisan advan-
tage, it has become necessary for every honest student to get the facts con-
cerning the Philippines in their present condition under the rule of the United
States. When Governor William H. Taft turned over his office as civil
governor of the Philippines to his vice, Luke E. Wright, and returned to
Washington to succeed Elihu Root as secretary of war, he left affairs in the
hands of the following men, who make up the insular cabinet :

Governor — Luke E. Wright.

Vice-Governor and Secretary of Finance and Justice — Henry C. Ide.

Secretary of the Interior — Dean C. Worcester.

Attorney-General — L. R. Wilfley.

Secretary of Public Instruction — General James F. Smith.

Director of Posts — C. M. Cotterman.

Chairman of the Civil Service Commission — W. S. Washburn.

Treasurer — Frank W. Branagan.

Executive Secretary — A. W. Fergusson.

Auditor — A. L. Lawshe.

The Supreme Court of the Philippines is composed of these men :

Chief Justice — C. Arellano.

Associate Justice — Florentino Torres.

Associate Justice — Joseph F. Cooper.

Associate Justice — Charles H. Willard.

Associate Justice — Victorino Mapa.

Associate Justice — John T. McDonough.

Associate Justice — E. Finley Johnson.

Few of these men are known in this country, though they have been
engaged in a most difficult work, in which the press has been deeply interested.
While it has been the policy to give the widest publicity to the work of instal-
ling the American administration at Manila, Governor Taft and his associates
have not cared to exploit themselves in connection with the woik. But with
the changing of the administration's head, when the man who established civil
government in the islands is brought necessarily into public view, it is appro-
priate to ask about those who have helped Governor Taft to do what he has
succeeded in doing.

Associated as he has been with Mr. Taft for almost four years, the new
governor, Luke E. Wright of Tennessee, will undoubtedly carry out the policy
of his predecessor, and work patiently, cheerfully, and with the purpose
always in view of making the government popular with the Filipinos.
Governor Wright is fifty-seven years old. For eight years after he had been
admitted to practise law before the Memphis bar, he served as attorney-
general of Tennessee. In 1878, when yellow fever broke out, he took a
leading part in the work of fighting the scourge. There is no question of his
humanity and fearlessness. Naturally enough, Governor Wright is a Demo-
crat. When Governor Taft made his long journey to Rome in connection
with the friars' lands question, Mr. Wright showed his quality as an adminis-
trator.

For a little more than a year General James F. Smith has been a mem-
ber of the Commission and in charge of the DeipaTtmetw oV VviXsVsc NwsWNxolviw..

850 THE Columbian reading union. [Mar.,

Born in San Francisco forty-five years ago, a graduate of Santa Clara College
and of a San Francisco law school, he went from active law practice to join the
First California Volunteers as colonel in iSgS- He rose to be brigadier-
general of volunteers, and became governor of Negros. In 1900 he was
appointed collector of customs at Manila, and less than a year after he was
appointed an associate justice of the Supreme Court. Nearly six years of
experience in the islands have served to show General Smith at least the mag-
nitude of the work now in his charge. Speaking of what has been accom-
plished in the development of a school system in the time of the civil com-
mission has been at work, Mr. Smith has written :

"■ AlthoiigU three years have not yet passed since the establishment of the
Bureau of Education, an almost complete system of primary and secondary
instruction has been inaugurated. There are comparatively few municipali-
ties in the islands that have not made some effort to provide school accommo-
dations for the juvenile population. . . . Secondary school buildings
have been rented, built, or are building in forty of the principal cities and
towns of the islands. There are now two hundred and fifty night schools in
operation, and in the last year summer normal school classes were held in
thirty-three towns. There are something like two hundred thousand children
enrolled in the primary schools and more than six thousand in Ihe secondary
schools. There are over seven hundred American teachers in the field, and
nearly two thousand five hundred native teachers. Two hundred native Eng-
lish-speaking teachers have recently been placed on the insular payrolls."

Under the charge of the secretary of public instruction come the Bureau
of Public Printing, the Bureau of Archives, the Museum of Ethnology, Nat-
ural History, and Commerce, the American Circulating Library, the official
GasetU, and the Bureau of the Census. The official Gazette and the Census
Bureau were the latest to be organised, being established in 1902. Under
this department was conducted an extensive inveslipaiion concerning the
population of the islai-ids, the immediate direction of which fell to Professor

Carl C. Plchn, of the University of California.

• • •

Rarely has a canonization process excited such universal sympathy as
that of Joan of Arc. Mgr. Touchet, Bishop of Orleans, in thanking the Holy
F.-ither for inaugurating his reign by advancing the cause a step nearer com-
pletion, described the Venerable Joan as "by far the most popular of all
^■enerabIes." But there is another aspect of the cause worthy of attention,
and that is the courage displayed in this c^se, as always, by the Holy See.
The Maid of Orleans was burned alive in Rouen on May 30, 1431, in execu-
tion of the barbarous sentence passed upon her by a Catholic Bishop! He
was an unjust and unpatriotic bishop, the tool of the English, and blinded by
his own meanness and cowardice to the heroic sanctity of the Maid. It would,
of course, be very much more satisfactory if no such person as Pierre
Cauchon, Bishop of Bcauvais, had ever existed : but even he furnishes an
object-lesson of the impartiality of the church which has now glorified his
victim :

In the Cause of the Venerable Servant 0/ God, Joan of Arc-, Virgin, commonly
known as the Maid of Orleans,

AS TO WHETHER
The case is clear with regard to the theological virtues of Faith, Hope,
a/jcf Chanty toward God and our neighbor, and the cardinal virtues of Piu-
dence, Justice, Fortitude, Temperance, and Wio^t cotwittud with them, in a
heroic degree in the case and to the efttcX ■\i\ c\>\e^vvoTv,

1904. J

THE Columbian reading union.

851

The Wisdom of God, who delights to dwell on earth, was pleased to raise
Tip in the fifteenth century a virgin stout of heart, vicing in prowess with
Deborah, Jael, and Judith, who> with even more truth and force than they,
merited the praise bestowed on the woman incomparable as we read of her
in the Sacred Scripture: "She has [girded her loins with strength, she has
strengthened her arm, she has put her hands to mighty tasks." It was fitting
that the gift nf such a prodigy should have been granted to a nation renowned
in name and in the glory of its deeds of arms. Time was when it owed its
safety and its honor to the Maid of Orleans — let it then learn to-day, when
ravaged by a furious storm, to hope for the gifts of peace and justice from her
to whom the church now decrees the honor of having practised virtue in a
heroic degree.

The Venerable Servant of God, Joan of Arc, was born in the village of
Domremy, near Vaucouleurs, on the frontier between Champagne and Lor-
raine, on January 6, 1413, of very pious and humble parents. Her early youth
she spent hidden in God, attending to domestic tasks and at times tending her
father's fiock, but giving herself as much as possible to prayer in the church
of her native village. InHamed, too, with an ardent love of her ntigiibor, she
used to visit the sick, console the afflicted, and with such generosity relieve
the necessities of others that sometimes she deprived herself of her bed that
the wayworn traveller might not be without repose. Her life thus flowed on
in the shade until her eighteenth year.

At the time France had passed into a lamentable state, for Charles VII.
had been driven from the kingdom of his forefathers and obliged to take
refuge in the southern part of his principality, where he was pressed hard by
the English, the Bretons and Burgundians. His forces had been diminished,
for fortified places were falling now here, now there, into the hands of the
enemy J little more than his kingly title was left hiiti. And now the tide of
war was surging about the walls of Orleans. That city the English regarded
as the door, the capture and destruction of which would open all France 10
their victorious progress.

In these disastrous circumstances, when even the most active of the
leaders were losing all courage and initiative, the safety of the stale rested on
one woman. P'our years before she had seen the Archangel Michael sur-
rounded by an immense multitude of angels, and heard the voice of the Prince
of the heavenly host command her to hasten at once to Orleans and to con-
duct Charles to Rheims to be there crowned king. The girl was amazed at
first, but the visions and voices grew more and more frequent, and then the
ho!y virgins Catherine and Margaret appeared with the heavenly leader.
Then she submitted to the divine admonitions, and, in pledge of her obedi-
ence, she vowed her virginity to God. She was greatly exercised with the
care of prudently keeping her secret, and later with the necessity of revealing
it to her folk. But at length all difficulties were surmounted, and at her
pressing entreaty her uncle took her to Vaucouleurs to Robert de Baudri-
court, the governor. He at first received her plan with ridicule; then he
began to reflect and to endeavor to gain time, but finally, cutting short further
delay, he furnished her with arms and a small escort of horse and men, and
had her taken before the king. The Venerable Joan, on meeting him,
revealed for his private ear some secrets known only to himself, with the result
that he gave power into her hands and she set out for Orleans. After enter-
ing the town and repulsing the enemy in a fierce onslaught, she destroyed
one after another the posts of the besiegers, broke through their fortifications,
and raised her standard aloft. By equally prodigious efforts she delivered all
the other towns, and then she urged the vacillating Charles on to his anoint-
ing at Rheims.

s.,* THE Columbian Reading Union. [Mar, 1904.]

Having thus accomplished, better than any man could have done, the
mission God had entrusted to her, with equal courage and constancy she
received the unworthy reward meted out to her by the justice of men. Taken
by the Burgundians, she was shamefully betrayed for money into the hands
of the English, who were to wreak their vengeance by the cruel death of the
virgin. She was taken to Kouen, put on trial, and made the object Of all
kinds of charges — except that of having been unfaithful to her vow of chastity.

The case was tried before most corrupted judges, the innocent virgin was
condemned to be burnt, and underwent this punishment with fortitude on
May 30, 1431, before a dense multitude, with her eyes fixed on the crucifix,
while she offered up the most fervent prayers and irhplored pardon for the
authors of her death.

Four-and-iwenly years after her death the Sovereign Pontiff, Calixtus III.,
entrusted to the Bishop of Rhcims and others the duty of reopening the case, with
the result that the first sentence was annulled, and the reputation of the Servant
of God restored. A large body of evidence having been collected in the dioceses
of Orleans, Verdun, and St. Diodate, and forwarded to the Sacred Congregation
of Rites, His Holiness Pope Leo XIII., of happy memory, on January 27, 1894,
decided that the Cause should be introduced. The Apostolic Processes followed,
and the validity of these having been proved, the Sacred Congregation of
Rites entered on the discussion of the heroicity of the virtues of the Venerable
Servant of God, first in an ante- preparatory session, held at the residence of
the Most Reverend Cardinal Lucidus Maria Parocchi, of good memory, on
December 17, 1900; then at the preparatory session at the Vatican, on March
17 of List year ; and finally at the general session in presence of our Holy
Lord Pope Pius X., held on November 17 of the same year. Whereupon,
when the question was proposed by the most Reverend Cardinal Dominick
Ferrata, Relator of the Cause, "As to whether the evidence was clear with
regard to the theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity toward God and
our neighbor, and the cardinal virtues of Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and
Temperance, and the others connected with them, in the heroic degrte, in the
case and to the effect under discussion," the Most Reverend Cardinals of the
Rites and the Fathers Consultors severally gave their opinion. After weighing
these votes our Most Holy Lord Pope Pius X. refrained for the moment from
giving his final judgment, exhorting all present to pray for divine light for
him in such a grave matter.

But to-day, sacred to God the Saviour manifesting Himself by a star to
the nations, and at the same time the birthday of the Venerable Ser\'ant of
God Joan, destined of old to be as a flame flashing in the earthly and the
heavenly Jerusalem; His Holiness, after religiously celebrating the Holy
Sacrifice, has entered this noble hall of the Vatican and taken his seat on the
Pontifical throne, has summoned the Most Reverend Cardinals Seraphirus
Cretoni, Prefect, and Dominick Ferrata, Relator of the Cause, together with the
Reverend Father Alexander Verde, promoter of the Faith, and me the under-
signed Secretary, and in our presence has solemnly decreed: The evidence
conccrninj; the theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charily toward God and
o\ir neighbor, and the cardinal virtues of Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and
Temperance, with the others connected with them, as practised in a heroic
doijiee by the \'cnerable Servant of God, Joan of Arc, is so clear in the case
and to the effect under discussion that it is lawful now to proceed further,
namely, to tiio discussion of the four miracles.

.And this decree he ordered to be published and to be recorded in the acts
of the Sacred Con^'re;^Mtion of Rites on January 8, 1904.

Sf.rai'imnis Cardinal Cretoni,
Prejiit of the Sacnd Congregfitiott of Rites.
4« DlOMEDES PANICI,

Archbishop of Laodicea^
Secretary of the Sacred Congregation of Rites.